A Tale of Two Kobolds, Chapter 1

Story by Hinny Mule on SoFurry

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My stories are copyrighted, so NO takee!

A Tale of Two Kobolds, Chapter 1

By William W. Kelso

Kix was tired and cold, so what else was new? She hated this place, so different from her own long lost home. It was cold and dry, and her scales were dry and itchy, and the only trees were scruffy things with strange bristly leaves. And often when it rained the drops were white and fluffy, and at first she had been fascinated, but quickly became sick of the cold frozen water. It didn't seem natural, water should flow and drip from broad green leaves, not lie on the ground hard and frozen most of the year. She pulled her threadbare cloak around her tighter and gave a soft hiss of misery. It was cold, so cold.

Griswold hunched his shoulders against the cold wind, no matter how well he bundled up it always seemed to find a way down his neck. Though born in Konigsholm he had never grown used to the long winters, and even shorter summers. At least the tall building provided some cover, though the wind was often channeled through them like a funnel. He was otherwise satisfied though; he'd had a good day at the market, and pulled a small cart laden with new stock for his shop. The market was shutting down as it was becoming too cold for even the hardiest of vendors to keep their outdoor booths open. As he neared the edge of the market square a rather disreputable looking vendor called for his attention, and said,

"Have a look sir? My wares are cheap and of good quality."

Griswold just grunted and kept going; every vendor he passed had tried to get his attention as well.

"Good sir, the vendor called, you appear to be an educated man, I have books!"

Griswold paused, books were fairly rare in the isolated frontier city, and he decided it was worth a look as selling books were a major part of his business. "Very well, he said, show me what you have, and you'd best not be wasting my time."

"Never, good sir, the vendor replied, the books are all in good condition, and many quite old I think. Some have pretty pictures."

Griswold fought to keep his excitement from showing as he picked up a few of the books and took seemingly causal glances at them before setting them back down. The first two he looked at were beautifully illustrated tomes on the 'Natural Wildlife and Fauna of the Southern Lands', both rare and valuable. In fact it seemed most of the books were on the study of plants, animals, and similar subjects. He was amazed, the collection was exceptional. Most of what he usually saw were poorly printed copies of copies, but the vendors all appeared to be first editions!

"Well, Griswold finally said; trying not to show his excitement, I guess they would do to pass the time some cold evenings. What do you want for the lot?"

"For ALL of them, sir?" The vendor said.

"As I said, the lot." Griswold replied.

"Well sir, I'm not sure. I've only just come to the city, and was hoping to ask around as to their value."

"Hmph, Griswold grunted, half the locals cannot read or write, and would just burn them for fuel. And for all I know they are stolen from some wizard, and have a curse on them. Now come on, man, surely you have some idea? It grows dark, and I would be inside!"

"Oh, NO sir, the vendor protested, I am an honest man, and came by these books quite by accident. And old recluse had died, and the ignorant people of his village had thrown them on a bonfire and were set to burn them all up. I chased them off and retrieved them as I knows such books are of value. Let us say, 100 gold for the lot?"

Griswold did his best to frown as if he were thinking about it, though at that price they were for all practical purposes free. Of course he'd try to knock down the price as much as possible, just on principle. Then the vendor said,

"If you meet my price I'll throw in this slave as well, it belonged to the old recluse too. I have no use for the thing. It is healthy and strong, and would make a good slave for you, good sir."

Up until that point Griswold hadn't even noticed the small figure huddled behind the vendors table, and he couldn't tell much about it as it had a cloak or blanket wrapped tightly around it.

The vendor, hoping to close the sale; he had come to the market late and sales had been poor, said, "It can talk, and it's good at catching rats and other vermin, good sir. Your house will be rodent free, I can guarantee it."

"What do you mean it can talk? Griswold said, I mean, what use is a slave that can't?"

"Well, I wasn't sure it could at first, the vendor said, being a reptile and all."

"A what??" Griswold said in surprise, he'd assumed it was one of the smaller races, a kender or ratkin. While human slavery was outlawed in the Empire, the enslavement of nonhumans was not as most considered them merely smarter animals.

"It be a lizard of some kind, I think, the vendor said. I bought it along with other furnishings from the old man's house, and I have the papers on it. It is a legal slave, and has a collar. Stand up you ugly thing, and let the gentleman have a look at you!"

Kix gave a tired hiss, and standing up she took her cloak off and dropped it to the ground. It was all she had on, but she felt no embarrassment at being nude. Unlike mammals she had nothing to see, and in her original home her kind went without clothes. Why bother when you had thick tough hide for skin, and it was always warm and humid? But here it was different, and she shivered from the sharp bite of the cold wind, longing for her cloak and the scant warmth it provided.

Griswold blinked in surprise, it WAS a lizard! And he knew what it was, a kobold of some kind. As to the exact species he wasn't sure, like humans they came in a broad range of colors and shapes. But it was rare to see one this far north, they were creatures of the warmer climes, the cold did not agree with them. Frankly he wasn't impressed with the creature, it was thin and looked starved, and was shivering from the cold as it stared at him with its large emotionless eyes.

"Are you sure it can talk? he said, I've heard most are little more than dumb brutes."

"Say something to the gentleman!" The vendor snapped, and gave the shivering beast a poke with his walking stick.

"Yess Ssir, Kix hissed as she tried to keep her fangs from chattering, I sspeak common, and also Ssaurian and bassic trade pidgin." Her stuttering as much from the cold as any speech impediment.

"See good sir, the vendor said, the little beast is educated."

Griswold thought about it for a minute, he'd never owned a slave before; he'd never really needed one,his needs were few and he was fairly self sufficient. Still...he HAD been having a problem with rats in the basement lately. The damn things had developed resistance to almost every poison available; or were too smart to eat it, and even the magical wards didn't keep them out entirely. So maybe he could make use of the strange creature.

"So, Griswold asked the kobold, you can catch rats?"

"Oh, yess ssir, Kix replied, looking at the customer for the first time, I am a very good ratter, in my home they are a regular diet of my people."

She hoped he would take her, her current owner was a brute, and when she couldn't perform all the duties he gave her she was beaten. And she was hungry, and so horribly cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering miserably.

"Hmm, a hundred gold, you say? Griswold mused, I really have no need of a slave, and some of the books are in less than perfect condition. But still...hmmm, would you accept, say, 75 gold for the lot?"

The vendor flew into a contrived frenzy, and screeched about highway robbery, and the usual expected rigmarole, as Griswold had expected. Anyone who paid an asked price in the market was either a newcomer or an idiot. So after a few minutes of intense haggling he bought the stack of books and one second-hand slave for 92 gold, seven silver, and four coppers. Then he threw in another silver for two sturdy bags to pack the books into.

The slave and vendor helped him load the books into his cart; which was now quite heavy, and when he turned to pick up the carts handle he was surprised to see the kobold had already picked it up. Well, he thought, might as well get some use out of the thing. He made arrangements to meet with the vendor the first market day after winter as the old man was planning on leaving the city before the first snows, and returning after the spring thaw, and thought he might be able to acquire some more books from the same source, which Griswold definitely hoped would prove to be true. The lot of books he'd purchased was worth a small fortune, and if he could acquire more! Oh, what a lovely thought.

"Well, come on, he said to the kobold, its time we were inside."

Kix couldn't have agreed more; the thought of a warm house and/or a fire to curl up next to was lovely. But she didn't set her hopes too high; her old master had made her sleep outside of his tent next to the campfire, which was usually burned out before morning. Still, even a stable would be better then that! The cart was heavy, but as with all her kind she was quite strong, and pulled it fairly easy though the inclines were a bit of a struggle. It seemed there were no flat streets in this place, only hills of varying steepness.

Griswold led the kobold and its burden to the back entrance to his business, and residence. There was a small built in stable in the back, but since he did not own a horse he used it for storage. He had the kobold pull the cart inside and unload it, but he took the books himself and left them in his study/workroom, then returned to see to the rest of the items. The kobold was waiting for him, patiently standing next to the cart. It looked at him with its strange yellow eyes with 'V' shaped pupils and he looked back at it.

"Well, Griswold finally said, I guess we need to find a place for you to sleep." He looked around the storage area, but then remembered that reptiles were cold blooded, and he could see his breath even with the door tightly shut. Though most of his business was mortared stone, the stable was wood and did little to keep out the chill. So, no, he had best find someplace else for the beast. A frozen slave would be of little use. Finally he gave a sigh, and said, "Come on beastie."

Kix eagerly followed her new master into the house, and gave a hiss of pleasure as the temperature went up considerably. At first she had thought he would quarter her in the stable, which would have been dreadful, but this was much better, and she looked around her new home with curiousity.

Griswold's property was a shop & work area on the first floor, and his living quarters on the second, as was common in the business district. He had neither the wealth, nor the desire, to own a house as well. He felt his current arrangements were much more practice anyway. Plus a business with a live-in owner was much less likely to be robbed. But the question was, where could his new acquisition sleep? Certainly not in his private quarters. Finally he decided on a spot by the large cast iron stove that provided warmth for the first floor. The fire was never allowed to go out, and it was the warmest spot as well. So he said,

"This is where you will sleep, I'll get some blankets for now, but later I'll get you a pad. Now wait here, and don't touch anything."

Kix did as she was told, and crouched down in front of the warm stove. She could feel, and see, the heat radiating from it, and held her hands up to warm them. As the chill left her bones she began to feel much better. This was wonderful! She hadn't felt so warm in weeks; accept for the few times her former master had slept in inns. She was so intent on warming herself, turning and lifting her tail to warm it as well, that she didn't hear her new master return, so was startled when he said,

"Be careful or you'll burn your hinny, here, these blankets are old, but serviceable. Now go to sleep, I will tell you your duties in the morning."

With a hiss Kix lowered her tail, and took the offered blankets. "Thank you, Masster." She said. The she watched as he opened a door, and she heard the sound of his boots going up a flight of stairs, heard footfalls on the floor above for a few minutes, then it became quiet. He had taken the only light with him, and she looked around her in curiosity, there being plenty of light for her to see by with her excellent night vision; the faint ruddy glow from the stove, and the light coming in the two narrow windows on the front of the building providing more then enough illumination. What she saw were tall shelves reaching from floor to ceiling and crammed with books on one side and all sorts of unknown boxes and jars on the other, with glass-toped counters in front of each one. There were two doors in the back, one of which led through some sort of workroom to the stable, and the other to the narrow stairs going to the second story. The front door had a stout bar on it, and looked heavy, and the narrow windows would be hard for even a slender human thief to slip through, though she wouldn't have had any trouble. It would have been easy for her to escape, but where would she go? Her collar would give her away as an escaped slave, and she was far from her home, she did not even have any idea of which direction it might be. Besides, she had been a slave for most of her life, and knew no other. So with a fairly contented hiss she curled up next to the lovely warm stove in the nice blankets her new master had been so kind as to provide, and closing her eyes was soon asleep, snout tucked under her tail.

Griswold cleaned up quickly, and hopped in bed after throwing a few lumps of coal into the small fireplace in his bedroom. He was too tired and cold to fix a meal in the small cubbyhole of a kitchen in the back of his living quarters, and was still fairly full from the meat pie he'd bought at the market anyway. He'd make up for it with a large breakfast in the morning. As he got comfortable he thought about his purchases with delight. He still needed to go through the books and catalog them carefully, but from what he had seen so far he'd hit a lucky steak. All four volumes of Cuthbert's 'Natural Wildlife and Fauna of the Southern Lands' were included, all hand illustrated first editions out of a limited printing of one hundred four volume sets. He wasn't sure what they were worth, easily $1500 gold or more though. And the rest of the books looked promising as well. Then his thoughts turned to his other purchase, the kobold. He still wasn't sure about that, it might be best to just resell it for whatever he could get. He'd have to ask around and see if there was even a market for it. While slavery was widely practiced in the warmer lands, it was rarer in the cold north. Without much agricultural production there just wasn't as great a need for the labor, and most were house or stable servants, and almost all he had seen in Konigsholm were ratkin, the rodent like beasts were well suited for the climate with their thick fur and padded feet. But still, maybe someone would like a reptile as a curiosity. As he pondered the fate of his new slave he finally fell asleep.

Griswold woke up bright and fairly early, and heaved himself out of bed with a grunt. He stoked up the fire in the fireplace, and then got dressed for the day. For breakfast he just had cold cheese and bread as he was anxious to take a closer look at the new books. Still munching on a chunk of bread he descended the stairs to the business floor, and as he opened the door he was surprised at how warm it was. Usually it was very cold as the fire in the stove would have died down, and he'd have to stoke it and wear a coat and gloves until it got warmer. But it was downright toasty. Suddenly he heard a scraping rasping sound, and nervously called out,

"Who is it, who's there!?" And was startled when a head with a snout full of fangs popped up from behind a counter, and said,

"Good Morning, Masster."

Kix had woken up as soon as the first hint of weak daylight peaked through the windows, and had stoked up the stove as it was getting quite cold in the shop. Having finished that she poked around until she found a narrow cupboard containing a broom and other cleaning supplies; and was soon busy sweeping the floors. She had just bent down behind a counter to sweep some dirt into a dustpan when she heard the Master coming down the stairs.

Oh, Griswold thought, the kobold! He'd forgotten all about the thing! "Um, er, Good Morning, uh, slave. What are you doing?"

"Ssweeping the floor Masster, it's quite filthy back here. Where iss the dustbin?"

"Um, outback next to the stable door", Griswold replied.

"Would you like me to make you ssome breakfast, Masster?" Kix asked respectfully.

"Uh, no, I've already eaten." Griswold said, and then something occurred to him, what the heck did kobolds eat? The vendor had said rats, but surely they ate more then that.

The slave had returned to sweeping the floor; which he had to admit was pretty dirty as he seldom got around to that chore more then once a week at the most; and then only reluctantly, so he asked,

"Um, slave, what do kobolds eat? And do you have a name, I can't just call you slave all the time."

"If it pleases Masster, my name is Kix." Kix hissed, and asss for food, whatever the Masster cares to give me."

"Well, Kix, Griswold said, I know you eat rats, but what else do you eat? I don't want to give you anything that would make you sick, or that you can't eat."

Kix thought for a second, then said, "Well Masster, my kind like fish, meat of any kind, but I can eat bread and other food if nothing elsse is available. And the food doess not need to be cooked."

Ugh, Griswold thought, raw meat. Well, that would make it easier at least. Unfortunately he was low on meat right now; only a small chunk of overly salted ham was left, so he would visit the grocers and butchers later in the day. Perhaps the butcher would make him a good deal on some scraps and offal.

As he got ready to open the shop Griswold also noticed the glass counter tops had been dusted and cleaned, as well as the inside of the windows. He gave an approving grunt as he opened the door and hung his shingle on its hooks. The nicely hand painted sigh said 'Griswold's Second Hand Books and Apothecary Supplies'. Fact was he also carried magical, alchemy, and thaumatology supplies as well, being an Associate Member in good standing of the "Guild of Magical & Arcane Arts", though not a practicing mage himself. The few spells he knew were limited to preventing mold or mildew from affecting his stock, and to keep vermin away as well. Quite a lot of his books and other references were also on magical and other arts. His wares were of the highest quality and purity, and reasonably priced, so he had a number of steady customers, and his reputation was good in certain circles. Sorcerers, mages, and other practitioners valued a reliable source for rare or unusual ingredients for their spells and livelihood, and cheap knockoffs or falsely labeled ingredients could be...deadly. He also sold more common medicinal supplies to doctors and veterinarians as well, of course. As he went back inside he didn't see or hear the kobold at first, but then it came in the back door.

"Where were you? Griswold asked.

"Masster, I was emptying the rubbish can, it was full." Kix replied.

"Um, good, very good, Griswold replied. I'm sorry, but I don't have any food for you right now, but I will buy some later in the day. In the meantime let me explain; and show you, some of your duties."

"Yes Masster." Kix said, she wasn't worried about not being fed, more often then not she was left to fend on her own, and her keen sense of smell via her tongue and nostrils had told her there were rodents about.

Griswold gave his slave a 'tour' of the building, showing her the basement, upstairs and kitchen area, and let her have a closer look at the study/workroom. He told her very sternly, "Do NOT touch or otherwise disturb any items in the workroom, do not even clean in there. This is very important; some of the materials I work with are deadly. As to the rest of the building, you are free to roam at will while doing your chores. And do NOT leave the premises leave without permission, unless I send you on an errand with a pass."

"Yes Masster", Kix said respectfully, listening intently to everything he told her.

"Good, Griswold said, now as to your duties. Well, you already seem to know about cleaning up. Let's see, hmmm. OK, stoke up the stoves, the one in the front and smaller one in the workroom, as well as the fireplace in my bedroom, first thing every morning, and tend them during the day. But while the shop is open you may bank the upstairs fireplace. If someone comes in the shop and I am in the back or upstairs come and tell me immediately. Also keep an eye on customers, thieves are everywhere. Oh yes, and of course keep rats and other vermin out of the basement and anywhere else you see any sign of them. You can, um, do whatever you want with those you catch. Oh, and when you need to relieve yourself there is a toilet in the stable, and every morning empty the chamber pot under my bed. There is another chamber pot in the workroom, and you may use it on colder nights."

"Is that all, Masster?" Kix asked in evident surprise.

"Yes, for now, Griswold replied, though I may think of additional duties for you later. Now call me if any customers come in, I'll be in the workshop for awhile."

"Yes Masster." Kix said, and went back to tidying up. The place was a mess. Frankly she was very surprised she didn't have a lot of other duties, but wasn't complaining.

Griswold got a cup of thick cocoa, and settled down to examine the new books. And the more he looked the happier he became. There were thirty two books, from heavy tomes to slender volumes with only a few pages. And every single one was a treasure. And most intriguing, many had bookplates from the personal library of Jonathan Hawthorne Cuthbert, and most were well over a hundred years old, several much older. And to his delight he realized the four volume set of Natural Wildlife were the originals! To a rare book collector they would be almost priceless, and he revised the value closer to 6000 gold. One slender volume titled 'A Practical Approach to the Practice of Alchemy' was unsigned, but he could tell it had been written by a very knowledgeable alchemist, and some of the material in it was unknown to him. He set that one aside for his private library to examine more closely at a later time. Next he wrote out several notes he would send to some of his regular customers to make them aware of his most recent additions to his available stock. Most of those books he locked in his concealed strongbox for protection, more from vermin then for any other reason. Most thieves were usually after something other then books. Hearing the door open he looked up just a Kix stuck its head in the door, and said,

"Customer, Masster."

Ah, excellent, Griswold thought, it was Viscount de'May, one of those he had planned to send a note to. "Ah, you picked a most opportune time to drop my, Milord, he said, I have just acquired several books which may be of interest! One of which is on your want list."

"Good Day, Griswold, the Viscount replied, and pray tell, what is THAT?" He said, and indicated Kix who was standing; or rather hiding, behind a counter.

"Oh, that is my new slave, pay it no mind." Griswold said.

"Gave me a bit of a start, the Viscount said, coming in like that and seeing a giant lizard playing with the stove, thought maybe I'd had a bit too much Port during lunch, eh, what, hah-hah!"

Griswold chuckled in response to the noble's guffaw; the Viscount was a bit of a dandy, but well liked around the city. He was also a bit eccentric, he raised prize winning flowers as a hobby of all things. With a smile he reached under a counter and pulled out a medium sized book, and handed it to the noble.

"Good heavens, the Viscount exclaimed, Brown's 'Guide to Orchids and other rare Flowers'! Wherever did you get it, man!? And a first edition!! Good heavens!"

"I have my sources, Griswold replied. Are you, um, interested, milord?"

Some time later; after spirited haggling, the Viscount left as the proud new owner of Brown's Guide, as well as three other books on botany and natural studies. He left a promissory note for quite a large sum of gold coin, to be delivered to the bearer upon demand. Griswold was quite pleased as he tucked in into a pocket. Going to the door he got the attention of a couple of young boys wearing red feathers in theirs hats, which indicated they were licensed messengers. Pretending to be licensed was a heavy fine and/or workhouse time, so he was quite confident they were legitimate. He gave each boy three messages to deliver, paid their fee, and added a large copper each; a very good tip, if they 'were quick about it'. With eager 'Yessirs!' they took off at a run.

As he went back into the shop he realized Kix was absent, so stuck his head in the door to the upstairs and called the kobold's name, but no answer. Next he tried the basement, and saw the kobold standing in the center of the floor, its head thrown back as a pink tail disappeared into its open maw and a bulge slid down its throat. Yuck, he thought. At least he wouldn't have to feed it anytime soon.

Kix waited patiently in her hiding spot under the staircase, she was cold, but not as cold as she usually was. She could hear; and smell, a rat nosing about behind some crates. While her master was busy with the funny dressed customer she decided to do a little hunting, it had been some time since she'd been fed. And...there! With a fast nimble pounce she snapped her jaws around the squealing rat, and with a flick of her head she swallowed the large rat whole; never once touching it with her hands; and the feeling of the rodent sliding down her throat and squirming in her belly was delightful. One or two more rats and she'd be stuffed. As she lowered her head she saw the master looking down at her, and gave him a fang filled smile.

"Um, just wanted to know where you were. Just keep on doing what you're...um, doing" Griswold said. Yuck.

In fairly rapid succession several more customers came in, including two of those he'd sent messages too. By late morning he'd sold several more rare and pricey books, and deposited a heavy bag of gold & silver in the strongbox, and well as two more promissory notes for rather large amounts. It had been a most profitable day for sure. As he heard the door to the basement open he looked up, and noticed the kobold had a noticeable bulge in its stomach. Hunting must have been good, he thought.

"Would Masster like some lunch?" Kix asked, waiting respectfully for his answer.

"Um, yes, that would be nice. Do you, um, know how to cook for humans?" Griswold replied.

"Oh yess, Masster, Kix replied, I often cooked for my firsst master, before he...died." And she gave a sad little hiss at that memory. Her first master had been kind and good to her, unlike her second.

"Well then, Griswold said, there's not much in the pantry, but see what you can come up with."

"Yes Masster!" The kobold replied eagerly, and turned and scampered up the stairs on all fours with a flick of its tail.

Griswold decided to straighten up the bookcases, and add a few of the less expensive new books to them, while the kobold was fixing lunch. Sooner then he expected he heard the door to the stairs open, and a wonderful smell wafted out. He watched as the lizard set down a tray with a large sandwich of some kind on it. He lifted up a piece of bread, and felt his mouth start to salivate as he saw the fried ham slice, melted cheese, and buttered bread toasted in the drippings. And as a side two pickles and a chunk of sweetbread. He bit into the sandwich with gusto, and slowly chewed the first savory bite.

Kix watched her master anxiously, "Does Masster like his meal?" She hissed.

"Mmm, Griswold replied, his mouth full, this is excellent Kix! Where did you learn to cook like this!?"

Greatly relieved, Kix replied, "It's not much Masster, my first owner wass fond of melted cheese on almost anything, and he also liked ham. Now if only I'd had some sspices, or eggs. He liked fluffed eggs with chopped ham mixed in."

"Umpff, nom, yum!" Griswold grunted as he took another big bite. He'd have Kix tell him what it wanted for supplies, and either go; or send a boy, to fetch them from the grocer and butcher. No, on second thought he'd do it himself, he needed to pick up a few other things as well.

Griswold decided to go shopping before it became much later as a storm front was moving in and he didn't want to get caught in it, the first snows of the winter could be brutal. As he was preparing to leave his new slave gave him another unexpected surprise. As he was getting out sufficient coin for what he'd be purchasing, he said,

"Kix! Have you thought about what we need for the pantry?" And to his great surprise the kobold handed him a list, neatly written on a scrap of paper in a rather spidery, but easily legible, hand.

"You can WRITE?" He asked incredulously.

"Yess Masster." Kix replied with a worried hiss at his tone, her master sounded upset, perhaps it had been a mistake to give away that ability. "Did I do wrong, Masster?"

"Oh, uh, no, not at all, Griswold replied, it just caught me by surprise is all. Not that many humans I know can write, or read, so I wasn't expecting that an ani-, er, I mean...you could, is all."

"Not all animals are ignorant ssavages, Masster." Kix said with a slightly reproachful sounding hiss. "But if Masster prefers I will pretend I cannot."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, Griswold said. It's just that most slaves, no matter their species, aren't taught to read or write, the general feeling is that if they are literate they might start to, um, think above their station, and that could cause...problems."

"I undersstand, Masster, Kix said solemnly, but mosst of my kind cannot read or write, we do not have that in our...culture. My first owner taught me as an experiment, to ssee how intelligent I wass. I think he was surprised, but pleassed."

"Well, from your writing I'd say you're quite intelligent, Griswold said, you write better than I do. Now I'm going out, and will take in my shingle so that any customers will know I'm not here. Lock the door after I leave."

Kix was relieved as she locked up; realizing her revealing she could write could have been a big mistake. She hadn't told her second master about that talent, in fact she hadn't told him anything. The first time she dared to address him without permission he had beaten her. She was rather pleased that her new master thought her 'quite intelligent' though, and so far she was quite satisfied with her new 'home'. With a happy little hiss she went back to tidying up.

Griswold returned from his shopping just as the first granules of sleet were falling. He had quite a load, and should have taken the cart, but the last shop he'd visited had loaned him an apprentice to help take his purchases home. As he came in the door Kix was waiting, and quickly took over the job of unloading and bringing the items into the shop, getting quite a surprised look from the apprentice. Like many locals he'd never seen a kobold before, and the sight of the large naked lizard was quite a shock. Griswold had no doubt that word of his strange new 'pet' would soon be making the rounds.

After Kix disappeared upstairs with the groceries he set about unwrapping the parcels from the second hand shop. The first item was a sleeping pad; probably a dogs at one time, but it had been cleaned and fumigated, so should be useable, and was fairly well padded. Next were a couple of small pillows, and then a decent quilt. It should all make a decent enough bed for the kobold, and in the morning she could roll up the pad and stash the bedding out of sight. The next were a couple of different sized pull over long shirts for men. They were of course too large for the kobold to use as only shirts, but should make passable smocks, or so he hoped. Having a naked animal running around the place might hurt business, even if it was an apparently sexless reptile.

Kix stored the assorted items her master had brought, and then set about making dinner for him. It was too late in the day for a stew, but there was a lump of what she recognized as a kind of dehydrated meat broth, so she cut off a large chunk and added water, and then set it to heating over a low flame. Next she cleaned the vegetables and put them in the appropriate bins, and filled the containers in the spice rack. Tomorrow she'd whip up a meat and potatoes stew, and cook some lentils for soup. The large joint would be good for a roast, with the scraps and bones of the stew. She was unsure what the large parcel of scraps and offal was for, but couldn't help licking some of the blood off the wrapping. There was a rather ingenious storage space for the meat that somehow piped in the cold outside air to help keep the meat fresh. But what he did in the summer she had no idea, probably just ate it fast as possible. Even though she seldom ate cooked food she still enjoyed cooking, it gave her something to do, and she enjoyed the smells. Finishing the thick meat broth soup she added some seasoning and flour to thicken it a bit, got a large chunk of fresh bed, butter, and a small dish of pickled beets (those she liked too), and headed downstairs to serve her master.

Again Griswold smelled the delicious food before it arrived. In fact he'd strayed over close to the open stairway door more than once to take deep sniffs. And when it arrived it was as good as he had thought it would be. Dipping the bread in the rich soup he was soon happily stuffing his face.

Kix went over to stoke up the fire one last time before bedtime, and was surprised to see the large bundle lying next to the stove. She examined the pad and other items, not really sure what to make of them. That they were for her never even occurred to her, the only 'bedding' she'd had for months was her threadbare cloak. The last time she'd had a proper bed of any kind was with her first owner.

"Masster, what do I do with these?" Kix asked uncertainly.

"Mpff, slurp, they're for you, Griswold said as he kept eating, the floor gets cold even next to the stove, don't want you to catch your death."

Kix unrolled the pad and sat on it, and it was so soft and nice. She knew about pillows, but had never actually used one before, and now she had two! And the quilt was big and fluffy, and she could smell the down in it. She didn't know what to think, no one had ever given her such luxurious things before! Oh, she knew they weren't hers, but still, she would be using them. She finished stoking up the fire, then made a nest for herself with the blankets and quilt, and tried out the pillows. She watched as her new master went upstairs for the night, her eyes reflecting the ruddy glow from the stove, then settled down and quickly fell asleep with a happy hiss in her lovely new bed.

When Griswold went downstairs again the next morning Kix was already up and about, her bedding removed from sight. As soon as he entered the shop she scampered up the stairs and made him a breakfast of scrambled eggs and ham with some sort of seasoning he'd never had before, and it was absolutely delicious. And she had cut some bread in thin slices, toasted it, and smeared it with thick jam. I, he thought, am going to get fat! Normally his fare was whatever was left over and edible.

"Kix, he said, you are a wonder!"

Kix hissed in pleasure at the praise, and said, "Masster, if you don't need me for anything may I go to the kitchen and start a stew for your dinner tonight? Oh, and Masster, what are the meat scarps for, do you want me use them for soup?"

"Oh, Griswold said, the scraps are for your own dinner. I hope they're not too ripe, or not the right kind."

Kix was stunned; he'd spent money buying meat for HER?? Her former masters; even her second one, had occasionally gave her scraps from their plates, but otherwise she'd pretty much had to forage for her own. Fortunately wherever there were men, there were rats and mice. Plus the occasional plump pigeon that got too close. As she climbed up the stairs to wash the dishes and clean up she felt a feeling she'd seldom felt before, gratitude.

Griswold finished with a customer, and then went back to his workroom to go through some of the books he'd acquired more thoroughly. His one great passion was reading, and he'd read virtually every book in his inventory, many more the once. He selected a couple more for his private library, and then picked up Volume Three of the 'Natural Wildlife' set. To his delight there was a section on "The Sentient Animals of the Southern Jungles', with a section on the reptilian ones, including; of course, kobolds. There two major kinds, the larger more predatory kind sometimes referred to as raptors, and the smaller more placid kobolds, of which there were several sub-species. Curiously, he wondered which species Kix belonged too. There were four, and Kix bore a resemblance two of those.

"Kix, Griswold called, come in here please."

"Yes, Maaster?" Kix asked, waiting respectfully in the door.

"Come over here and let me have a better look at you." Griswold said.

He looked at the slim reptilian creature as it regarded him with its bright intelligent eyes. It was slender, but he realized it was larger than he'd originally thought as its digitigrades legs gave it a forward leaning stance. Right now it barely came to his mid torso, but if it stood upright on stretched legs its head would reach his chest. Those legs were powerful too, and he had no doubt the kobold was capable of great speed. The long tail started out thick at the base where it merged with the body, then tapered to a pointed tip, and was almost always constantly twitching or slowly whipping back and forth. He doubted it was prehensile though, though he had seen the kobold wrap it around its body or tuck it between its legs. The head was fairly large with long jaws full of nasty fangs, but the fangs were fairly even and small with no tusks. The creature had fairly well developed shoulders and fine boned arms, but they were wrapped in muscle, and he had no doubt they were stronger then one would think. The chest was fairly smooth with no nipples as with all reptiles. Its hands had four fingers and opposable thumbs that were almost as long as the fingers and had extra joints, each digit ending in wicked looking claws that he had no doubt could be deadly. The large feet had four toes on front, and a vestigial heel spur, and even larger claws. The skin was a dark brownish-green, lighter on the belly and thighs. It had a long pointed tongue; not forked like a snake's, that flicked out at fairly regular intervals. Of its sex the only sign was a hard to see fold of skin between its legs towards the base of the tail, a cloaca. The finely pebbled hide was fairly smooth and looked softer on the underside, but was obviously thicker on the back and head which had some bony plates, including two ridges of short sharp protrusions on the top and back of the head. Really too short to be true horns they were more of a crest. The yellow eyes were quite large and evidently had excellent peripheral vision, and he thought them quite lovely. But the kobold didn't quite match any of the illustrations in the book.

"Hmm, Griswold said after having the kobold turn around for him a few times, I'm not exactly sure what species of kobold you are. You look most like this fellow, but your crest is much smaller, this one's are almost like true horns."

"Let me see Masster", Kix said, and looked at the colored illustration in the book. She recognized it, had seen it before. "Oh, yes, that's my species, but he's a male, that's why the crest is bigger."

"You're a FEMALE?" Griswold said in surprise.

"Well, yess, Masster." Kix said.

"My goodness, I just thought you were a male all this time, Griswold said, I mean, you don't have any breasts or anything, so it's kind of hard to tell."

"Of course I don't have any breastss, Masster, Kix hissed in amusement, I am a cold blooded reptile you know, we don't ssuckle our hatchlings like you mammals, we regurgitate meat for them."

"Uh, OK, Griswold said, but I need to have you try on some clothes of some kind, I don't want a naked female ANYthing running around the shop, people would talk. "

Clothes? Kix thought, she didn't care for the sound of that. She hated to wear anything that could be binding and/or limit her movements, though she could see why soft humans did. They had no natural defenses like scales or tough hide, and she felt sorry for them. But still, she did wear her cloak to keep warm, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"But Masster, she asked, how would they know what sex I am?"

"Well, I would know, and that's all that matters. Griswold said, besides, they'll help you keep warmer, especially when I send you to run errands once you learn your way around. Now wait here, I bought a few possibly suitable garments at the second-hand shop."

Kix did as she was ordered; what choice did she have, and waited while her master fetched the clothes. When he returned she tried on the various ill fitting clothes, but didn't care much for them at all. They were too long and baggy, and she hissed in frustration.

As Griswold helped the reluctant kobold try on the clothes he noticed some marks on her back which he as first had thought were natural markings, but now he recognized them as welts. Some were old, but others much newer. He knew slaves were sometimes beaten if they were disobedient, but the kobold had been a diligent and hard working creature, and he was shocked.

"Who did this to you?" He asked; his voice angry.

"My second master did", Masster, Kix replied, I was insolent and he beat me fairly often."

"Insolent, you??" Griswold said in disbelief.

"Yes Masster, my first master was very...lenient and gave me liberties I did not realize most slaves do not have, my second master corrected that misconception on my part."

"Brute." Griswold mumbled, he'd probably beaten the poor thing because she was obviously smarter than he was, and better looking too. "Come over here, I have a salve which will help the welts to heal."

Kix did as she was told, and as the human smeared the thick salve on her back she hissed in pleasure, trembling as the salve soaked in. It tingled and was warm as it soaked in, and she gave a shudder of relief. Most of the welts were fairly old, but had bothered her, and it felt SO much better as the salve took effect. As her master finished she took his hand and gently rubbed her snout against it, and said, "Oh, thank you Masster; that feels so good!"

As Griswold applied the liniment salve he felt his anger grow, the welts were more numerous then he had thought, there being newer ones on the top of old only partially healed ones. He felt the kobold shudder and hoped he wasn't hurting the little beast, and was surprised at how smooth her scaly pebbled hide felt, it had looked so rough. As he finished he was caught by surprise when she took his hand and gave it what he assumed was a kobold kiss, and thanked him.

"You're quite welcome, Griswold said, I just hope the salve helps. I'll apply some more over the next few days for the maximum effect. Now, back to selecting some suitable clothes for you."

Finally he settled on a man's long shirt, a sturdy heavy cotton one that was plain but fit fairly well, or at least better than any of the others. Due to the kobolds flat chest it needed to be taken up in the back and shoulders, and he found out another of Kix's skills, she was a decent seamstress. He was amazed at how dexterous and nimble her clumsy looking claws could be. Evidently the duties her first master had trained her in included sewing, and as she worked on the shirt he continued to peruse the section on kobolds in the 'Natural Wildlife' book.

According to the book Kix was an 'Southern Arboreal Kobold' whose main home were the large trees that grew in the jungles and swamps of the Southern Lands. Her type of kobold lived in large loosely knit family groups or 'clans'. They were fairly numerous and were among the larger of the jungle kobolds, and had a smaller sub-species referred to as the 'Lesser Southern Arboreal Kobold'. Their main food was fish, small mammals and reptiles, and even some kinds of fruits. They were fairly primitive as they had no metal working skills, and tended to be fairly placid and tolerant of strangers, but if provoked could be deadly adversaries due to their ability to 'blend in to the jungle and move easily through the canopy', and their use of natural poisons to tip their projectiles made even their more primitive weapons deadly as the slightest scratch could prove to be deadly. Because of this they were left alone for the most part, but did trade with other races. The only illustration showed a male in full body paint and regalia, but the paint; instead of being garish, was a mottled blend of greens, browns, and blacks that would make him even harder to see in addition to his natural coloring. He was quite impressive looking as in addition to his natural weapons he had strapped blades to his heels and elbows. As he flipped through the rest of the section on kobolds he was surprised at the variety among them. Some were much smaller the Kix, others larger, though the norm was about two to three feet, but he'd seen illustrations of some of the more Northern species that were almost as large as humans. Most references referred to them as being sentient, but of 'limited intelligence'. He rather doubted that, if Kix was an average specimen of her kind then their intelligence had been greatly underestimated.

"Masster, Kix said, I'm through with my clothes."

Griswold had been so engrossed in reading that he'd almost forgotten she was there, and when she spoke he snapped his head up, a little startled.

"Yes, that's much better." He said. The shirt still wasn't a perfect fit, but it was wearable. He had to admit it looked a little strange on the reptilian creature, especially the tail sticking out from under the back, and if she lifted it the shirt would hike up. He'd have her make a hole for the tail later, but for now it was acceptable. "You look fine."

Kix just hissed softly, she thought she looked ridiculous. Reptiles just weren't made to wear clothes in her opinion, but if her master wanted her to wear clothes she would, she just wouldn't like it. Still, it WAS warmer.

"Kix, Griswold said, tell me about yourself."

That question caught her by surprise, and canting her head inquisitively, she said,

"What do you mean, Masster?'

"Where did you come from, Griswold said, how did you come to be a slave?? Who was your first master?

Kix hissed thoughtfully, she'd never been asked anything like that before, who cared where a slave came from? Finally she said, "I was very young when my clan gave me to my first masster as a gift. He had helped when a disease that was killing many of us, and my parents offered me as a token of their gratitude."

"That's horrible! Griswold exclaimed, your own parents gave you away to be a slave??"

"No Masster, it was a great honor! Kix insisted, he was a good friend of my people, and I was to be his slave and take care of him. I was one of many hatchlings of my father's third mate, so of little social standing. Had I been male it would have been different. There were many more females then males in my clan. My parents loved me, my father used to take us hatchlings fishing and to explore, but we had nothing else of value to give as we had no gold or other things humans put such value on. I was glad to go, to honor my clan and family. Masster Cuthbert was a good master; he taught me much that my people have never learned before. To us reading and writing was a mystery, almost magic. But he was old, and I only served him twenty years before he died. After he was gone the local village mayor seized his properties, and I was collared and sold to my second master."

"So, Griswold mused, you were never collared until after your first master died; he must have been the son or grandson of the Cuthbert who wrote and illustrated these books. It sounds to me like you were more of a servant then a slave, and it was the mayor who enslaved you, probably illegally, but that would be hard to prove. I'm afraid nonhumans have little rights in the Empire."

"Yesss, Kix replied, my first Masster was the great Cuthbert's son, and they had both been great friends of my clan and other ssentient races in the Southern jungles. Instead of trying to take our lands or properties they instead lived among us and studied us. We liked them. When he became too old he retired, and I went with him. He had a small estate with myself and few other servants from other races to wait on him and take care of his needs. What happened to the others I do not know, they were collared and sold as well."

"Well, Griswold said, Cuthbert certainly taught you well, your common is as good as mine, and your sibilant lisps are hardly noticeable. I wish I had known him, his father is quite famous. His library must have been a wonder."

"Oh yess, it wass, Kix said, he had many hundreds of books. One of my duties was to keep them filed and clean. But after he died many were stolen, even destroyed. The people from the village were ignorant as to their value, but I concealed as many as I was able."

"Concealed??" Griswold asked.

"Yess Masster, Kix replied, there was a secret room in the basement. The house was quite old and had several hidden chamber, but the one in the basement was the largest, and was warded against damp and vermin."

"Good Gods, Griswold said, do you think they might still be there?"

"I have no idea Masster, Kix answered, it has been many months, and the villagers looted the great house when on one came forward to claim it."

Hmm, thought Griswold, this might bear looking into. He was certainly no adventurer he had to admit, having only left Konigsholm on rare occasions, but he could always find some blade hires for protection, and though the trip would be long the area was fairly safe. A few well armed hires would deter all but the most desperate brigands. But that would have to wait until the warmer months; the roads would soon be closed.

"Well, Griswold said, we may have to take a little trip in the spring, as soon as the roads and passes are clear. If there are any books left we can salvage them."

"That would be lovely, Masster, Kix said, I could show you the way. It would be nice to be warm again too. It is so cold here, even indoors."

"Yes, I can imagine, Griswold said, that vendor was an idiot to bring you here, this clime is definitely not suited for a cold-blooded beings such as yourself."

Over the next few weeks things settled down to a pleasant routine, for both of them. Griswold forgot about any ideas to resell the kobold slave, he rather liked being babied, and he had to admit it was nice to have company AND she was an excellent cook. The little creature never ceased to amaze him, and he let it read some of the simpler books he had. And the rat problem was soon solved. Every so often he would see her coming up from the basement, a bulge in her belly and satisfied look on her snout. Business was good too, being winter many folks were looking for pleasant ways to spend the months when they spent most of their time inside by a warm fire, and reading was always popular for those that could read. So sales were brisk, and he even sold a few more of the rare editions from the Cuthbert collection. He'd made more in a six weeks then he usually did in a good year.

There was one rather unpleasant incident when he received a unwelcome visitor. He was in the back when he heard the door bell jangle, and Kix called, "Customer, Masster!"

His professional smile faded as soon as he saw who had darkened his door, and he said brusquely, "Hello Roger, welcome to my humble establishment, what do you want?"

The tall dark man regarded him with an aloof-almost sneer on his bearded face, and replied, "Ah, Griswold, you are always so correct; this IS a rather humble shop. Really, you could do better."

"It suits me, Griswold replied, now what to you want?"

The man ignored the question, and said, "And pray tell, what is THAT thing?" indicating Kix with a nod of his head.

"That, is a kobold, and my assistant." Griswold said.

"Surely you jest, a KOBOLD?? Why not hire a human, or even a ratkin assistant??" The man said in apparent surprise," But, oh, wait, I see, it's a slave. But really Griswold, a kobold??"

"It does its job, and I am satisfied with its services." Griswold replied, "Now I repeat, what do you want, Roger?"

"Please, in public refer to me as Magistar, the man said, after all, that is my title."

"A title which you bought with brides and arsekissing, you are no more a mage then I am, let alone a master, Griswold snapped, now tell me the purpose of your visit, or get out."

"How rude and uncouth, but then that's about what I expected, the man sniffed. Very well, the Viscount de'May paid my emporium a visit this past day, and showed me a very rare volume on Botany that he purchased from you. But what intrigued me most was the bookplate indicating it one belonged to the late great naturalist and mage Cuthbert. I was wondering if you might have any more books from his library, and if so, I desire to purchase them."

"I do have some, Griswold admitted, but none are on magic or sorcery, they are all on the natural sciences. Not your area of interest, I would think."

"Be that as it may, I would still like to purchase them. I am somewhat an aficionado of the great Cuthbert's works, and would be interested in any of his books or papers."

"Well, the ones I have are in my own collection, Griswold replied, and are therefore not for sale."

"Very well, may I at least have a look at them?" Roger asked.

"I think not, Griswold replied, I am sure they would bore you anyway. Besides, I have not yet finished warding them against mold or vermin."

"Hmph, very well, be that way, the man said. It is a sad day when one will not let a fellow scholar view books of interest. Good day, sir!"

"And good riddance." Griswold muttered, under his breath, as the man left as imperiously as he had come.

Kix had been watching the interchange between the two humans intently, her snout moving back and forth as they spoke. She was not entirely adept at reading human facial expressions yet, but could tell her master had no liking for the unwelcome visitor.

"Who was that unpleasant person, Masster?" Kix asked. Kix definitely didn't like the human male that had been such an unwelcome guest. Not only had he been rude to her master, he stank. Oh, not of bodily odors, but of fell magic. She gave a soft hiss of menace as he left, and was glad to see him leave.

"That odious cretin was the self-styled 'Magistar Roger Melchet'. He moved here a few years ago after some kind of unpleasantness in the capital, and set up his own shop he calls the 'Grand Emporium'. I visited his establishment once out of curiosity, and was not impressed. Like me he sells books and magical supplies, but his prices are high and his wares shoddy and of poor quality. He is mostly a pompous charlatan, though he does know some magic, but he is NOT a Master Mage. He bought the title 'Magistar', which as far as I'm concerned is an insult to the Mage's Guild. He tried to buy me out several times, but his offers were an insult. Then someone tried to burn my shop, and I'm sure he was behind it. He has pretty much bought out; or managed to drive away, most of the other competition in the city, and is quite good at ingratiating himself with the local people of importance."

"Oh, we call those like him an asshole where I come from." Kix quipped.

Griswold chuckled, "Why Kix, what a rude thing to say, but an astute observation never the less, though rather bluntly put."

A few days later the Viscount de'May paid him a visit, the well dressed little man in a distraught condition. "It's gone, it's been taken!" The Viscount repeated several times as Griswold tried to calm him down.

"What is 'gone'?" Griswold asked as soon as the Viscount had become more lucid.

"The wonderful book I bought from you, Brown's 'Guide to Orchids and other rare Flowers', the man said, obviously distressed. My manor was broken into, and that and the other two books I bought from you at the same time were taken!"

"Good Gods!" Griswold said, appalled. Those were rare books, and the Viscount had paid him more for them then he usually made in a year. "That's terrible news, my old friend! Tell me, what else was taken?"

"Well, that is most strange, the Viscount replied, this all that was taken. I have many other rare volumes, as you know, and they were not touched. Nor was a strongbox of gold and other coins taken."

"That IS strange, Griswold said, but surely, your wards, your guardians??"

"Neutralized! Every single one of them! The Viscount said, we did not even know of the intrusion until I went to view them. Whomever the vile miscreant is he went to great trouble to steal my property. I came to tell you, so if they are offered for sale you will know they are stolen, not that I feel the thief would be that stupid."

"Well, of course I will watch for them, Griswold replied, and so will the other proprietors I am sure. You have informed the Watch, of course?"

"Oh, but yes, but while they are good for rough and ready tumbles, I doubt any of them can even read or would recognize the books if they saw them. Brave fellows, but mostly bumpkins." The Viscount said.

Griswold had to agree, the local Watch did not attract the literate of well educated, except for the judges and magistrates of course.

As Griswold watched the upset noble leave he had a pretty good idea of who had stolen the books. The Viscount had erred by showing one to Roger Melchet, and he knew the so-called mage would be able to pull off such a burglary with relative ease. He was surprised he hadn't taken any of the Viscount's other rare books though, he had many as valuable; or even more so, then the ones taken. So the question was, why as Roger so interested in books from Cuthbert's library?? Rare and valuable to be sure, but then again so were many others. It was a mystery.

As Kix was cleaning up the melting snow the Viscount had traipsed in, she said,

"I am sorry for the Viscount, Masster, he is a fine fellow."

"Yes indeed", Griswold agreed, the Viscount had been the first noble to 'lower himself' to visit his shop, and being a true scholar instead of just a literate idiot, they had become friends. More than once the Viscount had invited Griswold to his manor to view his impressive collection of books and other written material, visits he treasured.

"Kix, Griswold said, do you know of anything else your first master might have had, in addition to his library, the might be of interest to a mage?"

Kix thought for a second, then answered, "Not really master, I know the masster practiced some magicks, but mainly of the natural kind such as healing or making things grow. But plenty of others do as well. Even my people have such magicks."

Hmmm, Griswold mused, that kind of magic would be of little interest to a mage like Roger, he was into much more powerful; and darker, magicks. There were even rumors he dabbled in necromancy, which though banned was nonetheless still practiced in secret. So long as you weren't blatant about it you would be pretty much left alone. But still, he WAS interested in SOMEthing.

A few days later the first major blizzard of winter came roaring down from the high mountain passes. Almost instantly most of the city was snowbound, except for some narrow paths kept as clear as possible by boys and young men hired for that duty, or pressed into it as punishment for minor crimes or misdemeanors. The city did not let any in its employ loaf; even prisoners had to earn their keep. You could also rent sledges pulled by snowgoats as well; the large surefooted beasts could walk on top of snow others would sink into. But most of the inhabitants stayed bundled up in their nice cozy houses, and Griswold and Kix were no exception. Kix especially felt the cold, and was glad for her 'dress' now.

For a few days Kix had been feeling out of sorts, and had stopped hunting rats in the basement even thought they had become bolder due to the weather. She just wasn't hungry, and just couldn't stay warm no matter how hard she tried, even curled up next to the stove. That evening after she prepared her masters dinner she was hardly able to even make it down the stairs before curling up in her nice bed and going to sleep. In the morning she didn't wake up at her usual time.

"Kix! Griswold yelled, I've overslept! Where are you, where's my breakfast? KIX!" Finally, with a grunt, he rolled out of bed, and shivered from the cold. The fireplace hadn't been stoked, and was almost burned out! Quickly he threw on some kindling and fanned it back into life. There, much better, he thought. Now, where was his odd little slave, anyway? KIX!"

Angrily Griswold got dressed; and hungry, then he went down to the stairs into the main store. The air was frigid, and he could see his breath, and he realized the stove hadn't been stoked in the last several hours. He could see Kix's sleeping pad and a mound of blankets and quilts, but no sign of his slave. But as he moved closer to the pile of bedding he realized it was occupied, the kobold curled up in a tight little ball under all the blankets.

"Kix! Griswold said, you overslept, and I did too! Come on, we need to open up. The suns out, so we might have a few brave customers. Kix?"

When the mound of bedding didn't stir Griswold felt a moment's irritation, but as he bent and gave it a shake his feelings turned to concern. Kix didn't respond, and didn't even move. Carefully he pulled back one of the covers until her could see her head, and her mouth was open as she breathed in short rapid breaths. "Kix?" Griswold said, giving her shoulder a shake, but other then giving a weak sounding hiss she didn't respond, or wake up. "Kix??" He said, giving her a harder shake, without any results. Now he was worried. He remembered she'd been kind of lethargic the last few days, and had attributed it to the cold, but maybe it was something else. Maybe she was sick?? He tucked her back in and stoked the stove until it was roaring. Having finished that; he knew he had to get the place warmed up, he thought about his next move. He knew next to nothing about kobolds, and how to take care of one if it was sick or injured. The books he had that told about them didn't cover that area. So he had basically two options, keep her warm and hope she'd get better, or venture out and try to find a Vet or doctor who knew about caring for reptiles, or maybe even a mage. After a short consideration he decided on the second. In the relatively short time he'd owned her he'd become rather fond of the strange little creature, and the thought of losing her was...well, he wouldn't let that happen.

Sticking his head out the front door he called to one of the boys who was shoveling snow, and told him to have a sledge brought around, tipping him a copper for his trouble. Then he bundled up Kix in several wooly blankets, and wrapped a soft fur wrap around it, making sure to leave her a breathing hole. Then as the sledge moved along being pulled by the bleating snowgoats he held the bundle inside his own voluminous fur coat to add his own body heat. He gave the boy directions to the house of a Vet he knew, the man sometimes visited his shop seeking books on veterinary medicine and related subjects. He figured he was the best place to start.

When they arrived the boy banged on the door so he wouldn't have to get out of the sledge unless it was necessary, but to his relief the door opened quickly, and the Vet motioned him inside. He paid the sledge boy, and then gave him a copper to wait. Then he carried Kix into the Vets exam room.

"A kobold, by the Gods", the Vet exclaimed after Griswold unwrapped the apparently comatose reptile. "Wherever did you find one here?"

"It is my slave, Griswold said, it was part of a large purchase I made. I believe it's ill, usually it's a quite active little beast."

The Vet stuck a finger in Kix's mouth, and frowning, said, "Oh, it's most definitely ill, most likely a reptilian version of pneumonia, it has a high fever. There's a reason you don't see them this far north, the cold is deadly to them. If they are not the type of reptile that hibernates the cold slows down their metabolism and makes them susceptible to disease."

"Well, Griswold said, is there anything you can do? I'm rather...fond of the little beast. She's a good slave, and a...friend."

"Well, if I had some idleroot I could make a draught for her, it works miracles on cold-blooded folk, but I have none."

"Do you know where we can acquire some?" Griswold asked, gently stroking Kix's snout.

"Well, Griselda's would have had some, but that loathsome Melchet fellow bought her out. I hate to say this, but check his place; he should have all her old stock. If anyone does, he would."

Griswold grimaced, but said, "Very well, I'll go there directly."

Griswold gave the sledge boy directions to take him to the "Grand Emporium" with mixed feelings; he hated to have to buy anything from Melchet, but had no choice. Taking a chance Kix would get better without the medicine was NOT an option. Until now he hadn't realized just how much he'd come to count on, and value, the little kobolds help and company. The shop would be a cold barren place without her.

Griswold had to admit the façade of the 'Grand Emporium' was impressive, with its new shiny gold leaf lettering and blue and red paint. As he entered a bell rang, and instantly a clerk appeared, and said,

"How may I be of assistance, good sir?"

" I am in need of some idleroot, Griswold said, and was told you might have some in stock."

"Hmm, the clerk said, I believe we have some, but it is quite rare an expensive. Let me check."

As the clerk climbed a sliding ladder and began to look over a shelf of stoppered glass jars Griswold grimaced as he heard Melchet's voice ask,

"What is it Gregory, do we have a customer?"

"Yes Magistar, the clerk replied, a gentleman who needs some idleroot, but I can't seem to find it."

"Idleroot, indeed? Melchet said, that is quite a rare herb, pray tell, did he say what needed it for?"

"No Magistar." The clerk said.

"Well, it's not on that shelf, Melchet said, it's in the special case, I'll have to unlock it for you."

Griswold nodded at Melchet as the man came sweeping into the shop through a doorway, and the man raised an eyebrow.

"Well, greetings Griswold, what brings you out in this beastly weather? And why idleroot, it's used almost exclusively for the treatment of...oh my, don't tell me your little lizard has a cold?"

"How much for the herb?", Griswold said.

"Well, let me see now, Melchet said as he opened a locked and warded cabinet, ah here we go. Oh dear, I'm afraid we don't have much. Better save it for an emergency I'm afraid. One of the duke's pet snakes or lizards in his menagerie might get sick again, and we can't acquire anymore until the spring melt."

"Look, it IS an emergency, Griswold said, how much do you want?"

"Hmm, sorry, Melchet said, afraid I'd better keep what I have. Good day to you, Gregory, show our guest the door."

"Damn it Melchet, Griswold said, what do you want?!"

"What I want is to see the books you have from Hawthorne Cuthbert's private library, Melchet replied, but of course you were not so inclined to allow me to examine them last time we talked, if you will remember, sir!"

Griswold ground his teeth in frustration, the man DID have a point, he had been rather rude the last time Melchet had visited his shop. "Look, he said, I only have a set of 'Natural Wildlife and Fauna of the Southern Lands', and 'A Practical Approach to the Practice of Alchemy'. The latter is unsigned, but is a well thought out and written work. I will give the book on Alchemy to you in exchange for the idleroot."

Melchet appeared to give it serious thought, then said, "The book is unsigned you say, hmm, interesting, but I think I may know the work. As I do not have a copy I will take you up on your offer."

"I need the herb now, Griswold said, you have my word on the book. Send a messenger to fetch it first thing tomorrow."

"But of course, and I do not doubt your word, Melchet replied. Gregory, prepare this for the gentleman, and give him a fairly large portion. Add some aspen oil to freshen and soften it."

"My thanks, Griswold said, I will have the book ready in the morning."

"I do hope your little lizard is feeling better soon", Melchet said as Griswold left. As soon as Griswold had shut the door, Melchet told his clerk, "Gregory, I need you to run an errand. Please inform Mr. Fontain that I may have need of his, er, services, immediately."

"Yes Magistar", Gregory replied respectfully. Not that he was thrilled with his errand, it was still cold as the blazes out, and 'Mr. Fontain' gave him the creeps. The dour man looked at him like he was a bug every time his employer sent him with a message.

Griswold knew he had gotten the lesser of the trade, the idleroot was worth far less then the book he had promised in trade. Still, he would honor his word. It never occurred to him to renege on the deal, after all reputation was more important then mere money, and he was if anything honest to a fault. But he found himself snapping at the sledge driver to hurry, thought it was obvious the lad and the snowgoats were doing the best they could. To make up for his irritable manner he tipped the boy an extra copper, which got him a big smile.

Griswold hovered anxiously as the Vet used a funnel to pour a rather nasty smelling concoction down Kix's throat, then held the kobold's snout shut and rubbed her neck until she'd swallowed, then gave her a drink of warm water to wash it down.

"Well?" Griswold, finally said.

"Well, what?" The vet answered.

"Will she recover?" Griswold asked.

"That remains to be seen, she is very sick, but from what I have heard kobolds, like most reptiles, are hardy beasts. It will be several days before we will know for sure, but the next 24 hours will make the biggest difference."

"I was not aware idleroot had any medicinal properties." Griswold said.

"By itself it doesn't, the Vet replied, the root acts as a catalyst to help mix and combine other ingredients in a potion, and also enables a reptile's digestive tract to absorb the liquid. Normally a reptile's digestive tract is incapable of absorbing and processing certain substances, after all their diet is considerably different from ours. Feeding them cooked meat, for instance, will often make them sick. Without the root the potion would have done little good on its own, and just gone through her system without being very effective."

"What do I owe you for your ministrations, Doctor?" Griswold asked.

"Two gold should do it, the Vet replied, and I will give you the rest of the potion, administer it to her once a day at the same time, followed by a drink of lukewarm water, NOT cold water. Also, feed her a warm broth made from blood with a few small scraps of raw meat, RAW, not cooked. And most importantly, keep the beast as warm as possible. And I will loan you the funnel; unless you already have one, but I expect it to be returned as soon as you no longer had a need for it."

After thanking the veterinarian, Griswold bundled up Kix again, and holding her inside his heavy fur coat he called for a sledge, and as soon as he returned to the shop he took her upstairs and tucked her into his own bed, and stoked the fireplace until is was burning brightly. Then he took off his clothes, slipped into his one-piece sleeping overalls, and slid in next to her. It wasn't quite closing time yet, but he had left the 'closed' sign in the window, and skipped his own dinner as he hugged the small kobold next to his body. Her odor was not unpleasant, and he could feel the fever burning in her, and as he hugged her he realized just how small and thin she was. He finally fell asleep too, humming a wordless melody.

For two days Griswold tended to the sick kobold, forcing her to take two more draughts of the nasty smelling medicine, plus feeding her a warm broth as well. She soiled the bed a few times, but he cleaned it up without complaint. And other then leaving the bed to stoke the fire, prepare her food and medicine, or to grab a bite to eat himself when his hunger became too great, he never left her alone. But as he held her little form, her breath coming fast and shallow, there appeared to be no real change in her condition one way or another, and he began to fear he was going to lose her. He could feel her heart beating next to his chest and kept holding her close; tears running down his cheeks, as he finally fell asleep the second night.

Kix woke with a start, confused and disorientated. She felt weak, drained, but the haze of incoherence and the darkness was gone. She had felt so terrible, so cold, but now she realized she warm, and what was even odder she was not alone. She recognized her master's scent immediately, and though of a different species it was strong and male, reassuring. She was equally surprised to find he had his arm around her and was holding her tightly against his body. She knew she had been ill, and realized he must have been caring for her. He was sleeping, so she didn't move other then to give his face a soft lick, and it was salty tasting. Then she put one of her arms on his chest and fell back into an exhausted, but healing, sleep.

Griswold woke slowly, tired despite his sleep, and then snapped awake as he remembered what he had been doing. To his immense relief he found Kix was breathing slowly and deeply, and her slick hide felt much cooler. She had her head resting on his chest, and her arm was thrown across it. He pulled her a little closer, and though it was another two hours before she woke up he didn't stir. He dozed a little himself, his relief making him sleepy again, but suddenly realized her bright yellow eyes were open and staring at him, devoid of any understandable human emotion as usual.

"Masster, Kix said, what happened, was I ill?"

"Yes you were, I am quite vexed at you for scaring me like that." Griswold said softly, and then gave the little reptile a gentle hug.

Kix, surprised; but pleased, by the show of affection, rubbed her snout against his face and hair in the manner of her kind, feeling a mixture of gratitude, affection, and something else. Then when he let her go after a few minutes, she said,

"I'm sorry I worried you masster, now I must get back to my duties."

"And make yourself sick again? I think not! Griswold said; you will stay right where you are until I tell you otherwise. Now you wait here while I get you something to eat, you're skinnier then a blade of grass."

Kix watched I amazement as her master made HER dinner! And she flicked her tongue at the scent of fresh blood and meat, her stomach aching. When he brought her a lovely thick stew made of warmed blood; it almost seemed fresh, and scraps of meet she devoured every last drop with hisses of pleasure. Then as he was carrying away the empty bowel, she said,

"Masster?"

Griswold turned around, and said, "Yes Kix, would you like some more?"

"Oh no, Masster, Kix replied, if I ate anymore I would make myself sick again. But, Masster, thank you...for caring for me."

Griswold smiled, and said, "You would have done the same for me, I have no doubt. But the main thing is you are better. Now get some rest."

Kix curled up next to Griswold for the rest of the night, his warmth soaking into her weak and still unsteady body, and realized what that other emotion was that she had felt, love. No one had ever given her such a good home, or cared for her before, other then her family. She knew it was foolish of her, but wriggled up a little closer to him, her snout pressed against his chest, his scent filling her nostrils as she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

The End

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