PREVIOUSLY in Chasing Gnomes... [in the voice of Terence the Barbarian]

The Lady Boss is in trouble. She needs to pay money to people, or get them a Hexapussy. Not sure what that is. If if don't work, I'll kill everyone she owes money to. Problem solved, but that might upset people. Bad men took the Hexapussy North, so I got us a wagon to chase them. I met the others coming out of The Dragon's Tail and we started chasing the bad men.

I like the gobbit because he looks funny on my shoulder like a bird I saw on a pirate once. Also, there are three little people called Harry and that makes my head hurt. If I'm good, Ladyboss might let me kill two of them to make things simpler.

I like the Lady Boss. She tells me what to do.

AND NOW, in Chasing Gnomes...


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A jolt and a cracking sound woke me up. My cheek was so stuck to the bench I was laying on, I felt like I'd fallen asleep on Olaf's bar back at The Dragon's Tail (yes, it's happened - a girl's allowed the occasional binge, okay?). I opened my eyes to confirm that wasn't an accurate thought. Unfortunately, I was still in the back of a wagon with two dwarves, an elf, a barbarian and a gobbit. I felt sure there was a joke in there somewhere.

"So, what is the nature of good?" Lindon was saying. "I'm serious - how does one know if one's course of action is the morally right one?"

"If I mek a deal," said Merchant Harry, "and it results in profit, then it wes the right thing ta do."

Little-John raised his hand. "But what if, to make your profit, you cause someone else to lose money? It's not right for them."

The merchant looked genuinely baffled. "What's that got ta do wi' me?" I smiled to myself but stayed quiet.

"He means greater good," boomed Terence.

"Och, then perhaps you ken explain it ta me."

The barbarian shrugged. "Nope. But the elf will."

"Okay," said Lindon. "Let's try a more obvious example. Say, you're about to make a deal with another travelling merchant whose path you've crossed. You see a really beautiful she-Dwarf being attacked." Female Harry's eyebrows raised so far, they merged with her fringe. "Or, perhaps she's a helpless young dwarf. A plain one who wears glasses and falls over a lot. And, err, has a really un-bushy beard. Anyway, she's in trouble and you're the only person who can stop her from being badly beaten, but doing so will mean you lose the chance at your trade."

Merchant Harry was nodding along but gave no indication of answering. When Lindon didn't continue, he eventually responded. "I ken visualise, lad. What's the question?"

"It's a conundrum. Do you make the trade and leave her to her fate, or forsake the profit and rescue her?"

"Uh don't understand."

Female Harry elbowed him in the ribs. "Ye great idiot. He means which should ye do?"

Lindon nodded and held his hands out - obviously!

The merchant shrugged. "That depends. Ken she pay me?"

Terence let out a belly laugh that shook the air and Little-John's mouth dropped open. Lindon looked ready to explode.

"It sounds to me," I said to the elf, sitting up, "like you're wrestling with something and you need us to soothe your conscience."

His face coloured up until he looked like a bashful strawberry. "I don't know what you mean."

Another crack sounded and the wagon shuddered. I did my best not to enjoy the sensation.

"He's going too fast," Female Harry said.

I gestured towards the front of the wagon. "What can I say? He's a getaway carter. He goes fast or I slap him round the head. What's the problem?"

"The wheels were, erm ... well, we bought them a little on the cheap."

"It wees a bargain, wumman!" said Merchant Harry, tutting. "Ye canne turn yer beard away from a bargain."

Lindon snorted. "What are they going to do - fall off?"

I started to reply but Harry interrupted by opening the hatch. Behind his gingery head, scenery bounced in an exaggerated fashion. "Erm ... one of the wheels mee have fallen off."

"What makes you say that?"

He smiled nervously. "It's rolling along the road ahead of us."

Little-John's face screwed up in consternation. "Then why haven't we crashed?"

On cue, the wagon lurched sideways violently, flinging everyone but Terence across the enclosed space. A loud CRACK! Filled the air and the floor bucked, tilting beneath my feet like a tossing ship. In a flash, the wagon was on its side and we were in messy heaps.

"Everyone okay?" I asked and got a chorus of groans in reply.

A muffled "It's a miracle ... I think," emanated from a pile of Harry to one side of me. To the other, Terence was on his side, still in the sitting position he'd been in previously, looking mildly surprised. Looking down at myself, I found the final member of the team.

"Oh my," I said, "I seem to have gained myself a new bra in the crash. It bears a remarkable resemblance to two cupped hands."

A slim body wiggled behind me. "I was concerned for you in the confusion, Roz - I thought I should offer some support."

"The confusion appears to be over now, Lindon."

There was a pause. "I could, in fact, remove my hands at this juncture, then?"

"Yes indeed, you could."

"Uhuh."

There was another pause and an additional wriggle. I shrugged. "Actually, I quite like the stylings of this new bra and it fits better than my last armour. The only problem is the elf with a spike attached to it. Terence, would you mind detaching said hands from said elf?"

Terence nodded and smiled, pulling a sword from his belt.

"Alright, okay, fair enough, I give up, I won't offer my support next time." Lindon managed to make himself sound like the injured party, but he did at least remove his hands.

We disembarked and met a dazed Harry.

"The horses are okay," he said. "But the wagon needs attention."

Terence grunted and walked round the crashed cart. Hooking a hand beneath the edge, he flipped it back upright with a crash and a clatter. The merchant Harries looked pained but were wise enough not to object.

"The light's failing," said Little-John. "We shouldn't stress the wagon until we fix it - we need somewhere to shelter."

I nodded and looked at Terence, who proffered a hand. Stepping into it, I hopped onto the top of the wagon with a small effort from the barbarian. I peered along the road ahead and felt my heart sink like a lead-wrapped brick. "There's a Jolly Jester."

Terence shrugged and the Harries all rubbed their hands together.

"There's always a Jolly Jester," muttered Lindon.

"What's a Jolly Jester?"

I sighed. "You'll learn, Elljay, and in advance, I apologise. Terence, be a good boy and play wheel until we get there. The rest of us - let's walk."

"Erm ... apologise for what?"

*****

"Ooh, Jolly good Punters!" hollered the jester, his mouth not quite reflecting its painted-on smile. He stood up from his perch outside the Jolly Jester tavern and approached us, doing a 'funny' walk. "Jolly good greetings!"

"What's the matter," I said. "Jolly well crapped yourself?"

Terence stood up beside the wagon and peered at the tavern sign. "Ffff ... faaaaa ... faaaast foooo ... d," he said, and beamed at his achievement.

"Yeah," said Lindon. "Real fast food - it only spends a few minutes in your body."

"We pride ourselves on fostering jolly japery," said the clown quietly, but the verve had drained out of him. We have that effect on people. I raised my eyebrows at him until he stood up straight and waved us past. "We have plenty of rooms for you, and a berth for your wagon and horses round back. Speak to Olaf behind the bar - he can sort you out."

A short negotiation and more money than I'd have liked later, we were bedding down in a gaudily decorated dorm. It looked like the inside of a candy cane designed by sugar pixies. As sleeping environments went, it was about as calming as divorce by mortal combat. It was at least warm, though.

As the candle went out and three dwarves snored, Lindon's voice floated to me though the darkness.

"If you're feeling the cold, Roz, I could ..."

I tutted. "Frankly my dear, I'd rather sit on a hedgehog commode seat."