The cheese Danish was genuinely delightful. Gilad was impressed with how quickly Rifkin was filling the shoes of his predecessor. One of his new apprentices had knocked on Gilad's door three tis before entering his ho and leaving the large tray of cheesy desserts on his table. Gilad recognized him from when he had been attending his classes. Black fungus? Blacknose? Sothing like that.
Gilad had dropped down from his favorite napping spot in the rafters to try a piece and had ended up making it his evening al. The pastries were made from a blend of cheeses that he couldn't quite place. The venerable fighter had long ago mastered his cheese cravings, but on a day when his joints and muscles ached, it was nice to feel the rush as his body gained the power only cheese could provide. And he had always loved pastries.
He would never let his sparring partners know, but the late-night dueling had pushed him hard. Cremona made up for her lack of physical ability with her virulent spells and poisons. Even with his strong resistance, they slowed him and left him shaking after winning a bout with her. Tall Squeak had given him several painful bruises and several tis given him broken bones. The damned whelp adapted quickly and experinted with moves that no sane ratkin would try against him. Those often resulted in Tall Squeak being slamd painfully into the floor or wall, but so of them worked, and then it was Gilad who suffered. At least the whelp was polite and healed his old bones afterward.
For a normal ratkin, Tallsqueak was amazingly tough with unbreakable bones and healed nearly as quickly as Larry. Just a few weeks ago, Gilad had been overjoyed to have an assistant who could double as a punching bag. It was debatable now who was the punching bag.
And then there was Larry.
The huge fiend was developing his own fighting style full of twirling tail attacks and quick hops. It was elegant, dangerous, and unpredictable. No one had ever used such a style before, and Gilad constantly had to push himself to avoid being pulped by one of Larry's powerful attacks. The Tail-Master was always excited to fight against Larry, but he paid for it with stiff limbs and painful joints the next day. The cheese helped with the pain, and the odd flavor he'd detected faded away as he finished the pastries.
Afterward, he went to bed early, needing his sleep. Fighting class was important. He needed to be up and about, not lying in bed and letting Tall Squeak run the classes. He slept soundly for the first ti in years, undisturbed by dreams. Before he awoke, another delivery of cheese Danish was dropped off.
Gilad awoke early, saw the newly delivered food, and ate all of it. He was the Tail-Master; he deserved extra cheese. It was essential and would help him train all of the whelps. A hollow needed all of the fighters it could get! Fighting practice for guards and whelps would need to be mandatory from now on.
His students were ready and waiting for him, glassy eyes showing intense concentration. Training began imdiately and continued through the morning. The loud noises coming from the outer caves were ignored, as was the commotion from the mines. The only thing that got Gilad's attention was when Tall Squeak ca walking by on a silly chanical spider.
Milo was getting the hang of driving the spider. It was a clunky machine, and he had a lot of ideas for improvents. He had a low opinion of both the builders and whoever had been doing the repairs. Too many things had been fixed with wire and tape. The parts box was ssy, but he found enough bits to fix the second gun. Rather than have two guns with independent triggers, he slaved the second to the first and synchronized their firing. Fewer parts were needed, and he got the job done as the spider slowly made its way through the caverns and into the hollow.
It could have been a better job, but it doubled the firepower of the walking tank. That might be handy if his suspicions about the caravan proved true or if sothing else attacked the hollow. He planned to take the spider and park it in the outer cavern next to the guards for them to use. He was surprised to see Gilad leading tail-fighting drills with a large group of students. Between investigations and fighting spiders, he'd lost track of ti. He was also getting tired. The quick rest while talking to Petey didn't replace hours of sleep, despite the pick--up effect of the jellybeans.
Gilad walked over to him as he arrived. "Why are you late for practice? And why are you riding on an atrocity like this? If you were going to construct a battle tank, using a design for a chanical mole would be better. Spider legs break off too easily. Trust , I know from experience." He wrapped his knuckles on the fake tal head on the front of the spider's armor. Hissing and clicks echoed out of the cracks in the armor. "And where did you get such a stupid spider to use for the core? This one is hissing so much that I can barely understand it. Please take it away before it distracts my students."
Milo noted that he should learn the spider language; it might be handy soday. "It ca marching into the mines, shooting people along with a dozen other giant spiders and even a couple of nobles. We killed all the rest, but this thing might co in handy soon. Have the twins or Petey talked to you about what is happening?"
Gilad began walking back to his arena. "No, and I don't care. My job is to teach whelps to fight and let the scouts and assassins handle their own problems. You're the new Scout Master; I give you my authority to handle these nuisances. When it is ti to fight, call for , and I will bring the fighters of the hollow and make battle against our opponents."
"Oh, and tell whoever is having a war in the outer caverns to keep things quiet. Class is in session."
Milo took in the glassy eyes of the Tail Master and the class. At least they were getting in a lot of practice. He put the spider in gear and started walking it down the tunnel to the outer caves to see what was happening there. Brutus waved to him as he exited. "Hi, Master Tallsqueak. Cool looking spider."
Brutus seed calm, but the caravan was a ss. "What happened here, Brutus? It looks like a battle took place."
The guard smiled. "Oh, it was a good one. First, the caravan got attacked by a bunch of players, and the herd of damnedbeasts went crazy and trampled everything before they forted up in the center of the cave. It will take a couple of days for them to calm down. It was mostly humans attacking; they didn't do too badly at first. Good fight, and things were about even after the Master rchant unleashed his cheese fiends. Then the humans got attacked from behind by a dwarven artillery company. Now that was fun to watch! The dwarves are now holding the far end of the cavern, and there's a graveyard between them and the caravan. Hopefully, the next round starts soon. Pretty good entertainnt."
"Oh, and don't worry. I'm doing a good job; no one is getting past today. Brutus is on guard!"
Milo was trying to fit the big guard’s information into an already complex situation. "Yes, good job Brutus. Excellent job. Keep non-residents out of the Hollow unless I or another master vouch for them. Master Clawhamr and Master Gilad have given their authority for the mont."
"And that includes Rifkin. He isn't a Master yet, he can't give a stalwart guard like you orders. And I need to talk to him if you see him. Grab him if he tries to sneak in or out of the hollow, and hold him for . And don't underestimate him. He's sneakier than I think anyone knew."
Brutus saluted. "You got it, Master Scout. And have a nice day." Milo decided to bring the spider with him to go visit the artillery company. They'd have suggestions on how to get the stupid leg assemblies fixed if it was whom he suspected.
Rifkin was not happy. Sothing had gone wrong with his cunning plans. He wondered which idiot was screwing things up.
He was ensuring that everyone in the Hollow was getting enough Milbenkase each day so that the spider cheese could work its magic on them and turn them into hard-working slaves. Everyone would work hard at whatever they thought was their primary job, and they would take his orders without question. It had been a slow start. The spider cheese wasn't working like it was supposed to. People weren't taking orders well. He suspected it was bad cheese. Just like Gangrene to give him defective spider cheese!
He'd prepared unique dishes for Gilad, Clawhamr, Brownfur, and Arlothe and had his minions distribute them at their hos. Bleusnout had kept a record of everyone's favorite dish to surprise them for their birthday. The entry for the the Gathering Master was missing, so he sent a sampling platter of blended cheese. He wasn't worried about her. Brownfur was of no matter; the old woman would see things his way and could be put to work making sure the new fields were laid out correctly.
Charlotte was going to take over as the new Death Master and was confident she could sway most of the shadowskulkers. If not, examples would need to be made of a few. If his trap worked, she would also take care of the annoying Tall Squeak. It galled Rifkin to no end that a stranger only recently arrived had been trusted with a ring, and he who had been here for years was still only an 'assistant.’ That would change soon.
The only Master that worried him was Old Healer. Charlotte had suggested that they deal with him last after they had the Hollow under control. He was sure Charlotte would use him as a threat to keep so control for herself. It might be ti for Charlotte to eat a hefty chunk of slave cheese if she tried. He could replace her with Petey. Petey was docile and fat. Where Charlotte was a problem, Petey could be easily managed. He'd given the jelly bean addict a few hints about his plans already.
The twins, though, had to go. They'd fallen under Tall Squeak’s influence. He'd dodged them all night before he made it to the caravan. Maybe Petey could talk to them, or he'd have Charlotte scare them or give them so slave cheese. He had lots of options to deal with anything.
He'd just finished explaining all of this to Gangrene when the caravan had been attacked. He'd kept his head down and hid in the General's tent. The stupid humans who had failed to show up to weaken the hollow were now attacking the caravan! Blackwhisker had assured him that his links to the human guilds would ensure the raid was arriving on ti. Had Blackwhisker betrayed him?
The tide of combat had favored the humans until the fiends were unleashed, and the fiends had destroyed the raids' healers and mages. The caravan had been about to charge when more things went wrong. Dwarves were attacking! He hadn't had any plans for dwarves! You never invited dwarves to a revolution unless it was at a brewery. They couldn't be trusted! Yet here they were, and the human raid had lted before their withering fire. Gangrene was alive but wounded; the caravan had lost half its guards.
Rifkin was okay with that, but he had so many other questions. Could he use what was left to gain control of the Hollow and then get rid of them? How would he get rid of Gangrene? Could he engineer a fight between Gilad and Gangrene? He needed to think, and he needed to get back to the Hollow and check on his minions, talk with Charlotte and make sure the plans were going well. He was starting to be worried about his spider allies. Not only were they supposed to weaken the Hollow, but that was the excuse he would use to bring in the caravan guards. He'd save the Hollow from the spiders and humans and announce that he was taking over.
He'd just decided to sneak carefully away from the caravan and back to the Hollow when Tall Squeak entered the outer cave riding on top of a chanical spider. He hid quickly, wondering if the spiders had betrayed him.
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