The Wizard of Smaug Copyright Bruce Norman, 1992 All rights reserved Chapter 5 ----------------------- "Awaken Perrywinkle, there is much to do!" Perrywinkle mumbled and rolled over. He didn't want to wake up. Right now he was having a very nice dream about being cooked alive and eaten by goblins. It was a pleasant alternative to his real life. "Oh silly, silly, Perrywinkle" spoke the voice from afar. Perrywinkle ignored the voice, his attention absorbed by an unusually ugly goblin who was basting him with melted eel fat. Alaesha smiled at the whimpering sleeping form of Perrywinkle. He was curled into a little ball and sucking his thumb. "How cute" she said, and lightly punched him in the crotch. "Awwwghh" cried Perrywinkle as his dream world was shattered. He opened his eyes and almost screamed. Good God, it's that grinning idiot Alaesha come to torture me some more. "There, that got you up didn't it? Mother taught me that trick!" Alaesha lay fresh clothes at the feet of Perrywinkle's bed. "I'm sorry for your father" mumbled Perrywinkle, sitting up in bed. "What do you want Alaesha, I must rest," and then catch the first coach out of Smaug. "Oh silly, whiney little Perrywinkle! Shall I have to use boiling water to get you out of that sick bed? Very well, I shall return." Alaesha stepped towards the door. "No, wait," said Perrywinkle, jumping out of bed, "I'm feeling much better, you needn't go." "Why Perrywinkle, what a marvelous recovery!" beamed Alaesha. "It is such a sorrow that you are to be executed tomorrow." "What?" asked Perrywinkle his face turning ashen white. "What are you talking about?" "Oh, did you not know?" asked Alaesha. A surprised look crossed her face. "Mayhaps you are not supposed to know. Forget that I spoke of it." "I will not forget that you spoke of it!" yelled Perrywinkle. "Alaesha, please, tell me why I am to be executed." "I can do better than that" spoke Alaesha, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tightly wound scroll. "These are posted all over the kingdom." Perrywinkle grabbed the scroll and unwound it, reading it with a sinking heart. LEYT IT BEY KNOWNE THAT THY TRAITOR PERRYWINKLE IST TO BEY EXCECUTED FORRE THY CRYMES OFT IMPERSONAYTION OFT A HIGH WYZARD, AND TAYKING THY POST OFT CHEYF WYZARD UNDER SUCH IMPERSYNATION. NOTE YE THY EVIDENCE IN SUPPORT OFT THYS ACCUSAYTION. OONOSE, LET IT BEY KNOWN THAT PERRYWINKLE OWNETH NOT THY POINTY HAT OFT A WYZARD! DOES, LET IT BEY KNOWN THAT PERRYWINKLE OWNETH NOT ROBES COVER'D INST SYMBOLS OFT MAGIK! TRES, LET IT BEY KNOWN THAT PERRYWINKLE HAFT NOT A FAMILYAR, AST HAVETH ALL WYZARDS. AS THIS EVENDENCE PROVEST, PERRYWINKLE IST NO WYZARD. THUS, MEY HE BE BYRNED AS A TRAITOR TO ALL OFT SMAUG. MARSHMALLOS ANST ALE TO BEY SURVED AT THY BYRNING. LORD BLUETSPUR "They're going to burn me because I don't have a pointy hat?" "Or a robe with funny symbols on it, or a familiar. It's not like they're burning you just because you don't have a hat," pointed out Alaesha cheerfully. "Well that's good" snarled Perrywinkle in sarcastic rage. "Far better to be burned for three stupid things instead of just one. What am I going to do about this? Am I to just lie here and allow them to burn me like a witch?" "Grandmother said it wasn't that bad" responded Alaesha, "oh you char a bit, but compared to crucifiction or impaling its a treat." "What?" asked Perrywinkle. "Oh nothing" said Alaesha, smiling nervously. "Let's worry about you. I take it that you don't want to be burned tomorrow?" "Well, I would rather avoid it. Can you help me Alaesha?" "But of course, little Perrywinkle, what a waste of my work for them to burn your just-healed skin." "Then tell me, hypothetically speaking, when does the next carriage leave for the land of Soote?" "Not for a fortnight, Lord Bluetspur has had them all canceled," responded Alaesha. Perrywinkle moaned. "Then you must help me. Help me get a pointy hat, and rune covered robes, and a familiar!" "What would you have me do?" asked Alaesha. "I'll see to the familiar, could you round me up a pointy hat and some robes with funny symbols on them?" "Most assuredly, Lord Perrywinkle. My mother is not only a wit...witty lady, she is also a renowned seamstress. I shall return soon with the pointy hat and robes which you have requested." Alaesha's beam of happiness suddenly melted into a look of pure woe. "Oh, but I can not put runes on your robes, I know not what they look like! Would you happen to have an example rune I borrow?" "Hmmmm, I don't think so" said Perrywinkle. "Perhaps in your...spellbook?" asked Alaesha, smiling innocently. "It might have a few." Perrywinkle reached for his spellbook, and handed it to Alaesha. "Take it. Just don't spill anything on it, its the only one I've got." "Uh, dear Perrywinkle, when I tried...I mean...I have heard that no one may open a wizard's spellbook other than the owner. Would you please?" She handed the spellbook to Perrywinkle who shrugged, and opened it. Before him in broken spidery script, a familiar warning lay before him: Important it bey that thou ne're entrust thys knowledje to otherz. Let not the temptress steeyl from thou thy secrets oft Magik! Let not thy servantz reayd thys tome! Above all, make use always oft thy Ritual oft thee Wyzard when castying thy speyls! "Spit," swore Perrywinkle, and slammed his book shut. "I'm sorry Alaesha, but I can't allow you to see my book. It is wizard law. Please forgive me, but the Bishop would have my head if he found that I'd allowed a woman access to my spellbook." Perrywinkle snickered. "You'd probably be burned as a witch then anyway, so it's best to avoid reading this book." Alaesha paled slightly. "Just make up some funny symbols, I doubt that anyone other than Lord Bluetspur has any idea what a magic symbol looks like anyway. Hey, I'm Court Wizard, and I have no idea what one looks like." "Very well, Lord Perrywinkle," said Alaesha, her voice somewhat shrill. "I shall return by nightfall with your hat and robes!" She slinked out of the room, leaving Perrywinkle to dress himself and prepare for the ordeal which lay before him: the quest for a familiar. How the hell am I going to find one anyway he wondered to himself. Guess I'll go wander about the back alleys and find myself a mangy cat. Perrywinkle shivered, he hated cats, he was allergic to them. Dressing himself in the simple clothing Alaesha had brought for him, and wearing over his neck the heavy silver amulet which identified him, Perrywinkle set off in search of a familiar. --- "But mother, he wouldn't give me his book!" protested Alaesha. Croesha sneered as she stirred the bubbling black cauldron in front of her. "You are a fool Alaesha" she said sharply. "You are a beautiful young witch, and you can not even get a small book from a dung salesman? Why didn't you enchant him?" "Enchant the Court Wizard of Smaug?" asked Alaesha in shock. "What foolery that would be mother? He would no doubt destroy me for even thinking of making such an attempt!" Croesha snorted, shoveling a pile of bat wings into the steaming brew before her. "Fool, that boy's no wizard. I can tell a wizard when I see one. That boy's a dung salesman. A dung salesman in wizards robes perhaps, but still a dung salesman." "Oh that reminds me mother" spoke Alaesha. "I promised that you would make Perrywinkle a pointed hat and some robes with funny symbols on them. He needs them or he is to be burned alive tomorrow!" "What?" screeched Croesha in rage. "Do I look like a seamstress to you girl?" "You are a seamstress, mother!" protested Alaesha. "Fool, that is merely a cover. What do you expect me to do, put down 'Witch' as an occupation when I file my tax returns? If you promised this dung-salesman robes, you must make them yourself." She narrowed her eyes. "I do hope that you made this promise as a wiley attempt to gain his trust, and not out of unwitchlike sympathy." Croesha poured the contents of a large jar marked "eyes of newt, thirty gross" into the steaming, bubbling, cauldron. "Of course" lied Alaesha. "But you know I can not handle a needle and thread. Please, do this one thing for me, mother." "No" responded Croesha. "You must do this yourself. There are materials in the back room, and its time you learned to sew anyway." Croesha cackled. "Indeed, what better time to learn than when the life of another depends on you!" screamed Croesha, waving her arms, and accidentally knocking her sleeping cat Gusvas into the foming brew. "Oh mother!" protested Alaesha. "Must you always be so melodramatic?" Woefully, she turned to her mother's sewing box. "Don't forget to steal his book!" screeched Croesha. "If you won't enchant him, then sleep with him!" She absentmindedly swatted Gusvas, who was clawing at her hand in an attempt to pull himself out of the cauldron. "Mother!" was Alaesha's shocked response. She would have to get that book from Perrywinkle, but not in such an indecent way. He was so nice, so cute, and so tiny. She loved the way he waved his little hands in the air when she tickled his burns. Alaesha herself towered far above Perrywinkle in height. She was six feet tall, while he was barely five. Sometimes she wished she was smaller. Perhaps then the village boys would stop endlessly harassing her? Probably not. She was the only unmarried girl in the village who possessed a complexion clearer than swamp mud, or hair finer than bailing wire. Vigilantly, Alaesha began to sew. --- An unwarranted chill crept up Perrywinkle's back. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. He cursed himself for his foolishness. Teflour is dead he told himself. He can not hurt me. I am perfectly safe. Despite his assurances though, Perrywinkle could not deny the creeping horror which threatened to overwhelm him as he reached out and grasped the doorknob of Teflour's ramshackle home. What if it was locked? Would he break in? Was he wrong in coming here at all? No, by Smaug law, all of Teflour's possessions were now his. Thus, this was his own house he was breaking into. The door creaked open. The smell of death assaulted his nostrils; a dusty, choking, moldy smell. Much better than goose dung. "Hello?" called out Perrywinkle, reaching into his pocket to grasp the slimy scaly salmon which he had placed in there. He pulled it out, slowly. "Mew?" called out Perrywinkle, waving the fish in front of him. "Here kitty kitty kitty. Perrywinkle has brought you a nice fishy-wishy. Come on out and get it." Mew peered at Perrywinkle with her cold green eyes. She was resting on top of one of Teflour's bookshelves. Mew was very hungry, and that salmon looked very tasty, but she did not move. She was not a foolish cat. She had watched in horror when the dark-clothed man had burst into her home and drowned that poor idiot Teflour in his own cauldron. Perhaps now he had come back to finish the job and get her too? "Come on Mew, I need you! They're going to burn me if I don't have a familiar by tomorrow, and you have experienced in the job. Come on, I brought you a bloody salmon you stupid cat! Come out, gods, where are you hiding?" Now Mew recognized this clumsy little human. It was Pringle, or Pribble, or something of the sort Mew had never been good at remembering human names. She had called Teflour Teabag for at least ten years of her life with him. Still, she knew this human, whatever his name was. It was that foolish little dung-boy who had let Teflour to set him on fire. What on earth did he want? Mew's eyes opened wide in surprise, and then closed into slits of hate. The little human was wearing Teflour's medallion. He must have killed Teflour. Oh Teflour was a fool, there was no doubt of that, but Mew had grown quite attached to him in the sixty years she had spent as his familiar. Now his murderer was walking right into her clutches. She hissed, and leapt at him. Perrywinkle screamed as the small ball of black fur anchored onto his face. The yowling, screaming, demon clawed at his eyes. It's sharp teeth sank deep into his nose. He screamed as blood began to flow. Desperately he bashed his face into a wall. Mew's head cracked against wood as Perrywinkle performed his maniacal head-butt. Her claws slipped loose from his face. She slumped to the floor in a small heap, shook her furry head, and stood up again. Perrywinkle wandered about in a daze. She attacked his leg. Perrywinkle screamed again as the small black furry demon bit through his sandal, directly into his big toe. Calling upon strength he did not know he possessed, Perrywinkle struck the creature with the salmon. With a soggy spluttering sound, the salmon connected, sending Mew rolling across the floor. Perrywinkle finally recognized her, and called out. "Stop it Mew, what are you doing? I'm your friend!" Mew advanced on Perrywinkle. Her eyes were thinly closed slits. She hissed. "Please calm down Mew. Listen to me. I brought you a salmon." Perrywinkle held out the bruised lump of fish-flesh in a gesture of peace. Mew halted and stared directly into Perrywinkle's eyes. Her small chest heaved in and out as she panted in rage. Thank god, thought Perrywinkle, she's going to stop and listen to me. Actually, Mew was just too tired to launch another attack yet. Having lived for sixty years, and given birth to some 300 kittens, she was not in prime shape. "Now Mew," spoke Perrywinkle slowly and carefully, "I'm not sure why you're attacking me, but I assure you I mean no harm. I've come to ask you to be my familiar. I desperately need one. Good God, thought Perrywinkle to himself, I'm talking to a cat. , thought a voice in Perrywinkle's head, . "What?" asked Perrywinkle, grabbing for his head and slapping himself in the face with the salmon. "Who's there?" spoke the voice in his head. "Mew?" asked Perrywinkle in surprise. "Good lord, it is you. You can mindspeak? How incredible!" thought Mew, snarling at Perrywinkle, with no ideas on how she would kill him. "I had nothing to do with his death!" insisted Perrywinkle. "Didn't he drown in his cauldron? I assumed he was reading one of his elf books, and just slipped in." though Mew. "Murdered?" asked Perrywinkle. Mew mentally sighed. "Well, all right" said Perrywinkle, "but I must have your assistance first. I am in need of a familiar, Mew. If I do not find one I am to be burned at the stake. I'll make you a deal: you become my familiar and I will help you find out who slew Teflour. thought Mew. "Sixty years?" asked Perrywinkle, "isn't that rather long for a cat to live?" thought Mew. "I thank you Mew". Perrywinkle presented the salmon to her. "Please, take this as a token of my gratitude." , refused Mew. "Did Teflour have any robes or hats I might borrow?" asked Perrywinkle. , responded Mew, . "What is the penalty for looting the grave of a Court Wizard?" asked Perrywinkle. Mew glared at him. "Very well, than let us be off." Perrywinkle left the house, followed by a somewhat tired and bruised Mew. A foolish young wizard, thought Mew, and he still smells of dung.