Read Lord Toede for Free Online Page B

chains. Lord of Flotsam, Lord of Flotsam, Lord of Flotsam. He
     repeated it now as a mantra, not a daydream. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds
     about the time Taywin chose a likely place. She looked back, and Toede beamed at her,
     trying his best to outshine the timid Groag. If I play this right, Toede thought, they
     will never know what hit them. Taywin brought out a smile that gleamed in the sun in
     return to Toede's, but Toede was unaware of it, his eyes riveted on the key around her
     neck. 'This looks like a nice spot. They should be ripe enough. Mister Groag, Mister
     Underhill, you can start here. I have some baskets....“ She fished several smaller baskets
     from her hamperlike carryall. ”Of course,“ said Toede, smiling and shoving his arms
     wrist-deep into the nearest berry-laden bush, wrapping his fingers around a likely
     collection of berries in the process. The smile froze as the bush locked around him as if
     it were a tooth-laden vise. Shouting, he pulled his scratched hands away. ”Oh, I'm so
     sorry, Mr. Underhill,“ said Taywin, ”I thought you knew about the thorns. All raspberries
     have thorns.“ ”Of course, thorns,“ said Toede through gritted teeth. ”I knew about them,
     just forgot for a moment. It's been so long since I was in the field.“ He sucked on a
     bloodstained knuckle. ”Of course,“ beamed Taywin Kroninsdau, ”there are gloves in the
     large basket, with the smaller berry-baskets. Oh, and if Mr. Groag was any example, there
     is a difference in hobgoblin and kender taste. We like the ones that aren't green.“
     ”Aren't green,“ gritted Toede, his jaw still firmly clenched. '11 make a note of that.”
     The three of them worked the berry patch, Toede and Groag together, Taywin a little
     farther down, the guard with the dog watching the pair of hobgoblins. They gathered
     berries for what Toede thought was half an eternity but was most likely three-quarters of
     an hour, until each hobgoblin had a half-full basket to Taywin's full one. “Well, you boys
     had better catch up. How about if I read some poetry?” she said with a smile. “Kill me
     now,” muttered Toede in a prayer to the dark gods. “Beg pardon?” She blinked at the
     highmaster.
    “I said 'silly cow.' I was talking to Groag. He made a face when you mentioned poetry.”
     “Mr. Groag, I thought you liked my poetry,” said Taywin, pouting. “But I did, mean I do,
     er, I didn't,” Groag's explanation tumbled to an eventual silence as the kender pulled a
     small tome from her pocket. Toede turned back to his bushes, stifling a smile. Taywin's
     voice was strong and clear, and did absolutely nothing to improve the quality of the
     poetry. Fortunately for Taywin's feelings, it was normal for hobgoblins to hate all sorts
     of verses above the level of obscene limericks equally, so they failed to appreciate good
     poetry with the same enthusiasm as bad. Taywin intoned in her “serious” speaking voice,
     dropping several octaves into a humanlike alto. “The knight amount swept on his horse
     through bracken field and brawny heath and drew his sword of N'er-do-well to face each
     danger in its teeth.” Groag and Toede were working close together now, a little apart from
     the female kender. “I didn't make a face,” whispered Groag resentfully. “It's all part of
     the plan, so don't worry,” Toede hissed back. “He vanquished dark and dreadful lords and
     proved his will to fight and fight and won the hearts of all around with his fine and
     lordly might.” “But I don't think it's so bad,” continued Groag. “You wouldn't know bad if
     it infested your nostrils and bore young,” said Toede. “But she writes it herself. I think
     she's improving.” “Will you forget about the poetry for a moment?” shouted Toede
     breathily, trying to convey his rage without increasing his volume. Taywin halted, and the
     guard looked over at them,