TRADE IN THE OLD FOR THE NEW

By Richard Temple

Skarkill and his company stood waiting at the edge of the forest, awaiting the arrival of Honesty Bartram.

  “Dratted peddler! Wish he’d hurry up,” Skarkill grumbled. “It’ll be dusk soon and, Lordship or no Lordship, I ain’t too happy about traipsing through that forest when night comes.”

Sly Hands nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s when all those pookas come out - at the Wit… Wick ...Witchy… er, when it gets really dark, like.”

Julius Scaramonger, meanwhile, stood silently nearby, listening and wondering just who this Honesty Bartram was, and what Lord Fear required with two traders; surely he himself would be more then capable of handling whatever business Lord Fear had in mind. Just then, footsteps were heard hurrying down the path. Skarkill grasped his axe tightly just in case, as a figure loomed out of the shadows.

  “Good evening to you, my dear Goblin Master, and Master Sly Hands as well,” Honesty Bartram said good-humouredly. “This is quite the gathering of people allied with a certain gentleman, now isn’t it?”

Just then, Bartram noticed the other human in the group - a well-dressed man in expensive clothes. Bartram looked confused, but assumed that this was another Opposition minion. 

  “Good evening to you, sir. Bartram’s me name and bartering’s me game. My customers (my satisfied customers) call me Honesty Bartram. What’s your name?”

  “This, Bartram, is your predecessor; the notorious Merchant Prince, Julius Scaramonger himself.” Skarkill sneered when he saw the looks on both traders’ faces - resentment and jealousy registered on Julius’s face, and a slight annoyance registered on Bartram’s, as he was obviously none too pleased to have Julius back on the scene. “But we don’t have time to stand here chatting - his Lordship wants to see you both, so come on.”

The group set off towards Marblehead. As soon as they were out of sight, two other figures appeared from hiding.

  “Oh dear. If Lord Fear wants both his traders back then he must be up to something really bad,” Sidriss worried out loud to Elita. “Maybe he wants to buy another red dragon, or something worse! I’m not quite sure what could be worse then a red dragon, but I’m sure there must be something.”

  “Well, standing here twittering isn’t going to help, is it, bird brain!” Elita snapped. “You wait here. I’m going to find the Elf Path to Dunshelm and tell Old Beardy that Lord Fear’s up to something.”

Elita disappeared into the woods; Sidriss stood nervously, fidgeting and fretting. “Oh dear, I must do something… I know! I can try to delay them with some magic… If I can just remember how to do that HOLD spell right… What if it goes wrong? I could be captured, or fed to the goblins! But I must do something! Father’s always saying that people should stand firm against Lord Fear. I will do it!”

Sidriss made up her mind and determinedly walked into the forest, following Skarkill and his band.

Meanwhile, Skarkill’s band was making good time back towards Marblehead. Julius, however, was still sulking at being joined by his successor.

  “This Johnny come-lately has got no business being here,” he muttered to himself. “I’m the Opposition trader; why should I have to share the job with some grotty little peddler?”

The troop carried on walking. As they approached a rocky outcrop, none of them noticed the sinister shadow skulking behind the rocks. Suddenly, Skarkill heard something as they passed by the outcrop. He looked up.

  “LOOK OUT! ROCK SLIDE!” he yelled, as tons of rock suddenly came crashing down towards them.

Skarkill dived for cover, while Grippa and Rhark ran into the trees. Sly Hands was bringing up the rear of the group, so was outside of the danger zone, but Bartram and Julius were not so lucky. Neither of them had time to react before the heavy rocks came crashing down, mortally wounding them both. From high above, on the outcrop from where the rockslide had started, The Atlantian smiled to himself as he surveyed his handiwork.

  “Ah, The Atlantian earns his pay. That rockslide took care of both traders in one fell swoop, and it looked like an accident. Queen Maldame will be pleased.”

The Atlantian laughed cruelly to himself, and started back towards Greenshades, leaving the scene of carnage he had just caused without a second thought. Down below, Skarkill had narrowly avoided being crushed, but had been knocked groggy by the slide. He tried to contact Lord Fear with his spyglass.

  “Lordship… Lordship… Oh, this is very unlovely…”

Skarkill blacked out just as Lord Fear responded. “Well, what is it, Skarkill? Skarkill? Skarkill, respond! You’ve just interrupted my weekly chat with Count Brinkator, so this had better be important! Skarkill, I’m in no mood for prank calls! I’m going to count to five, Skarkill!”

Sly Hands’ face suddenly appeared on the viewing screen. “Oh, yer poshness, there’s been a terrible accident! Skarkill’s out cold like, and Bartram and Scaramonger are both crushed under some rocks!”

  “WHAT?!” Lord Fear raged. “I said I wanted them here ALIVE!”

  “It weren’t our fault, yer Lordship!” Hands protested. “The whole mountain just seemed to come crashing down round our heads!”

  “I’m coming there right away, Hands, to see if anything can be salvaged,” Lord Fear announced. “DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!”

Lord Fear cut transmission and Sly started to tend to Skarkill. Just then, he heard someone coming along the path, and he quickly hid. Sidriss appeared around the corner and looked in horror at the sight before her.

  “Oh my!” she said, seeing the rockfall and the two mortally wounded traders. Even though she knew that neither of them would help her if the tables were reversed, she immediately went to them and tried to help. Both traders had severe wounds and had lost a lot of blood.

  “Only a third level Healing spell would help them now,” Sidriss sighed, “but I’m not competent enough. And yet I can’t just let them die without trying! I know! Maybe I can use the UNITE spell I learned to unite the blood with their bodies, and then cast a simpler healing spell.”

She stepped back and began spellcasting: “Spellcasting: U-N-I-T-E!”

The spell took immediate effect, but not the effect Sidriss had in mind.

  “Oh…OH NO! NO, NO! STOP!” she cried, as the traders’ bodies began to glow with magic energy, and then fuse together into one single body.

  “No, I didn’t mean to unite the bodies! I meant to unite the blood with the bodies! Oh, dear me! Dispel: T-I-E…”

A fireball suddenly flew out of nowhere and hit Sidriss in the stomach. She flew back along the path and banged her head on a tree stump. She looked up and saw Lord Fear standing before her.

  “I really must thank you, my dear Sidriss,” he smirked at her. “You’ve just saved me the trouble of performing that spell myself. I had intended to combine Honesty Bartram and Julius Scaramonger, and now you’ve done it for me. Hands, wake Skarkill up and bring our new trader along with you.”

Sidriss followed Lord Fear’s gesture and saw, lying in the road, where once there had been both Bartram and Scaramonger, now only one single person - a youngish-looking man. Hands got the groggy Goblin Master back up to his feet, and they both hauled the man up to his and shook him. He groggily opened his eyes and looked directly at Sidriss. Sidriss was taken by how blue they were; they seemed to stare right through into her soul, in a piercing gaze. Yet there was something cold and ruthless about that gaze. Sidriss’ head hurt and the world began to spin, and then blackness.

  “Sidriss? Sidriss, can you her me? Speak to me, my child.” The majestic and warm voice that Sidriss knew and loved so well cut through her grogginess.

“Father.” She opened her eyes and saw that she was in the antechamber of Knightmare Castle, where her father Hordriss was tending to her. Elita, Pickle and Treguard all looked on with concern. “What happened?”

  “When Elita arrived with her message, I sent her back with Pickle to find out what exactly Lord Fear was up to,” Treguard explained. “They found you lying in the middle of the path in the Forest of Dunn and brought you back.”

  “What happened, Sid?” Elita asked, and Sidriss began to tell them what she’d seen.

Meanwhile, in Wolfenden, a stranger wheeled his cart into the centre of the market square. No one knew who he was, but the villagers were more bothered about the disappearance of the two local traders, Julius Scaramonger and Honesty Bartram. Suddenly, the young man’s voice cut through the crowd like a knife. His sales pitch resembled Honesty Bartram’s.

  “Roll up, roll up, folks! Come and trade with Wolfenden’s newest trader!”

The crowds gathered and started buying from this friendly young newcomer. He was dressed in fine cream and blue robes, not unlike Julius Scaramonger’s, and he had a scar visible on his left cheek, but most noticeable were his piercing blue eyes. Soon the crowd thinned out; the new merchant was just packing away when a slight buzzing sound caught his attention. He picked up his spyglass and answered.

  “Yes, milord?”

  “So, how did it go?” Lord Fear enquired of his new servant.

  “Like taking candy from a baby,” the trader purred in velvety tones, which only just masked the evil undertones.

  “Good, good!” Lord Fear responded. “Once you’re integrated into the community, we can really put you to work on the Powers That Be and their dratted dungeoneers. Oh, by the way, have you thought of a name for yourself yet?”

  “Yes, milord.”

  “Well then, spit it out!”

  “Deal, sir, Edward Deal.”

  “Hmm, a bit corny, but it’ll do,” Fear considered. “Very well, dismissed!”

Edward Deal replaced the spyglass and was about to leave, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and came face to face with a dark figure.

  “Sorry, the stall’s closed for the evening.”

The figure took a drag on his cigarette and blew it out thoughtfully. “I’m not here to buy; I’m here with a proposition. For a large payment in gold, a certain party (whom I represent) would like some information on one Lord Fear.”

Deal’s eyes lit up. “What would you like to know?”

Shadow Voice smiled to himself, for it was clear to him that the status quo would remained unchanged, even with Lord Fear’s meddling attempts to create a trader loyal only to him. Such a thing, Shadow Voice concluded, was truly impossible to find.

THE END