Bladeshire 19

By David C. Daoust

The hog just lay there. It unceremoniously, and without real reason, fell over dead. This happened after Chut’s dear friend, Chantilles, was knocked into the deep dark hole. Chut felt relieved that the dead thing decided to play along with the facts. Spriggans did not really like the undead. Death itself was laughable. The undead, however? Did not make sense to the magical beings.

Chut was hiding out in the local brush, where he ran when the young girl inadvertently knocked him from her shoulder. Worked out great in Chut’s opinion, he was not going to be much help against such a thing as that. Staying one step ahead of death was what fae did best, but when the things that were a few steps behind it, started to get back up… it made the fae’s skin crawl! And Chut’s head spin.

Chantilles’ mastiff, Abe, was still in a snit, pouncing on the suddenly inanimate thing, pushing it with his front paws, and then jumping back to growl and bark at it…

From this demonstration, Chut was satisfied that the hog was, in fact, no longer a threat.

The spriggan’s attention switched back to his friend and her fall into the deep dark hole. He would surely have to come up with a plan. The rest of his crew were hidden away in that satchel… and considering that it took all of them just to boost him up high enough to crawl out of the leather bag, he knew they had nary a clue what was going on.

There was rope in that shed, he knew that much. He’d spotted it when Chantilles found the torch in the barrel. It was in there with it, coiled in a tight loop on the bottom.

The smell of the dead hog made his eyes water, it was bad. Really bad. Despite this Chut walked right up to the hole and peered down into the darkness. He could see light from the torch moving about. Someone was up. Hopefully Chantilles. Not that he really had anything against the boy. Chut was pretty sure Chantilles could do without him though. Most of his crew would probably agree.

His eyes narrowed as he plotted a way to get them back up. He was going to have to tap into that good old spriggan ingenuity. He tapped his chin a bit as he tried to come up with something.

He could not think of anything.

Just getting the rope from the barrel… it would surely take his full crew, maybe more, to get the rope out. That stupid boy should have used the rope to start with, Chut thought in frustration, ‘the ladder was not even tall enough!

Chut had no choice, he would have to reveal himself. This was a pretty big no-no among his kind. Luckily, it was just to a pup, one that cared for Chantilles as much as he did! What could be the harm? The tiny spriggan clapped his hands, and gave a bellow.

Abe reacted to the noise; head tilted to the side.

Chut clapped again, and gave a woot. The tiny being was clear of the brush at this point, standing on the great dirt plain that made up most of the Collier’s Yard. The dog spotted him, and Chut could not help but clench in anticipation.

Abe made a strange talking sound at him, “Wor-wor-worr.”

Chut could not make out what the canine was trying to say, he did relax a little though. There was just a moment there, where the spriggan thought the massive pup might rush over and gobble him up. He probably would have survived the experience, but it would have been a long ride back out; one he did not want to make.

“Wor-wor-wor-worrr,” the saggy flesh waggled with the sounds as the dog tried to converse. He ended the series of noises with a single harsh bark.

Chut was pretty sure the dog would accept his help, or vice versa as the case may actually be. With that, Chut managed to climb up onto the dog’s snout. “That’aways,” he shouted as he pointed back at the shed.

The mastiff caught on quick and raced to the shed.

Jostled just a bit, Chut decided this was going to work out just fine, once he managed to climb back up from the beasts’ saggy jowls to reclaim his spot back on the snout. The two managed to force their way into the shed– the dog was smarter than he might have given him credit for otherwise, it really only took Abe four or five tries to understand that Chut wanted the barrel tipped over. At which point the tiny spriggan leapt from the dog’s snout and climbed on into said tipped over barrel.

Chut yanked and pulled at the end of the rope. He pulled the braided fibers from the tipped over barrel and snaked it out as far as he could. He let Abe take over… and the dog raced the end all the way out to the hole.

The length of rope stretched all the way from within the barrel in the shed, to the edge of the hole. A good chunk of it still coiled within. There was more than enough rope…

This was not going to work, Chut realized again. The pup did not have hands, and the rope was wider around than he was. How could he secure the end of the rope at his current size? That good’old spriggan ingenuity was not holding up to standards. Not one bit. He rubbed his chin some more.

Chut was going to have to change his size! He was suddenly glad the boys were all hidden away in that satchel. There was no telling what may happen if he got caught. Once he was a good seven feet tall, he managed to tie off the rope to the wattle fence that made up the empty pigsty nearby!

Success! Chut thought as he turned to celebrate with the helpful pup.

The two wound up playing a bit as the dog suddenly dropped into a playful bow, inviting play. An invitation which chut could not resist, he dropped to his knees and slapped the earth in answer. The dog leapt up, and Chut rolled away. The dog raced around him and then the entire yard, as Chut jumped around like a frog. This behavior may have carried on a good long while longer, if there was not the sudden chatter of women approaching.

Chut was caught off guard, but shrank down tiny again, in the blink of an eye, and vanished—hopefully, before any of them noticed.

What Chut could not know, most of the elders, that he did not know were in that hole, yet were in that hole, had wives. None of them liked it when their husbands did not come home. More times than not, these husbands, could be caught drinking in the old Collier’s Yard. Never before had they stayed this late into the morning. The group of angry old wives made their way into the yard, not a one of them looked very pleasant to Chut.

Chut suddenly realized that, while he had managed to tie off one end of the rope… he forgot to drop the length of it down the hole.