Chapter 37: Tongue Lashing (Unlocked)

  Clang! Clang! Clang!

  The vigorous striking of a bell roused the inhabitants of Goldenberry. Bleary-eyed from the previous night’s revelry, the halflings peered bewildered from their doors and eventually staggered down the lanes to Roundhedge Tavern, heeding the unusual and relentless call.

  Clang! Clang! Clang!

  Chastity, poised in her freshly polished chainmail, stood outside the tavern door. She held the town bell dangling from a severed rope in one hand and a tiny halfling-sized hammer in the other.

  “Mandatory village meeting,” she instructed, ushering in the confused villagers.

  “Uh… is that the town bell? I ‘aven’t ‘eard that sound in ages…” one halfling murmured as they stumbled past.

  When the majority of villagers had arrived, Chastity followed them inside and closed the door. They took their seats as bidden, many stretching and yawning. Mayor Roundhedge, still wearing a floppy sleeping cap, slumped on a chair near the entrance.

  “Now… what’s this all about?” the mayor groaned, regretting those extra couple pints of Deep River Ale from the previous night.

  “And what time is it? The cock ‘asn’t even crowed,” Old Miss Brandyhill wondered aloud.

  What time is it? Chastity repeated to herself. It is high time–no, PAST time to address this despicable prejudice.

  Chastity had barely slept a wink, tossing and turning on the cold, crooked floorboards of the vacant shack. Kobelt, for his part, slumbered (and snored) as if the hard floor was a palace bed. Chastity was up at the first hint of dawn, pacing the village until she spotted the small, neglected belfry.

  “I called you all here to discuss a very important concern,” Chastity said, looking over the assembled crowd packed into the tavern. By now she recognized most of the faces. The Underfoots were there. Charlie too. All wondering what this was all about.

  “You interrupted my beauty sleep,” Mr. Pricklebush protested. “And on whose authority are you calling this here gathering? In the mayor’s own place of business, no less.”

  “Shush… don’t be rude, Pricklebush. The Paladin is welcome to speak in my ‘umble tavern whenever she pleases,” the mayor replied.

  Chastity cleared her throat. She stood tall, looking into the eyes of each villager in turn, choosing her words carefully. She began:

  “I could claim to call this meeting as a representative of the Holy Order of Paladins, although that would not be quite accurate. I could claim to call this meeting as a representative of the Celestial King, and that would be a bit closer to the truth. But I won’t do that either. Instead, I call this meeting simply as your guest, and on behalf of common decency.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  The halflings stirred, exchanging uneasy glances.

  “When I arrived here, a stranger from a distant land, you took pity on me. You took me in. As I lay unconscious and injured in the snow, several of your men carried me across the river. The Underfoots put me up in their home as I recovered, giving up an entire bedroom on my behalf. Several of your women lent their garments. Miss Brandyhill shared her food. From the very first, I was deeply impressed by your warmth, your friendliness, and your hospitality. And not asking a thing in return. You welcomed me–a stranger, with a strange manner of speaking, strange customs… and carrying weapons, no less!

  “It is because I received such a warm and enduring welcome that I was so astonished that you would turn your back on another such stranger in need. Yes, I speak of Kobelt the gnome, who came with me to your pleasant village last night. On the way, I told him of your kindness and generosity. Yet, at a time of celebration and thanksgiving, he was not welcomed. As a prisoner of the enemy, recently escaped and in need of help, he was shunned. I do not say these words lightly, but the way you all treated Kobelt is shameful.

  “Whereas I come from a land and way of living so alien, so foreign to your own, Kobelt is your neighbor. Even your brother. (Distant cousin?) Apart from his blueish-gray skin, lack of hair, and habit of referring to himself in the third person… I can scarcely detect a difference between him and you. Most likely, you all share a common ancestor.”

  And with the goblins too, most likely, Chastity thought, but did not say. The concept of divergent microevolution, from her brief stint as a biology major, fluttered through her brain. She continued:

  “The sacred words of the Great Divine, as I received them in my own land, teach us that we are to treat the sojourner among us the same as the native. To love and welcome those who are different from us. As you did to me! Indeed, the word hospitality literally means ‘love of strangers.’ (Greek, philoxenia).

  “You are correct, Mr. Pricklebush. I have no authority here. This is not my village, nor my home, although I have truly enjoyed my time living among you. There are debts I must still repay to many of you fine folk, and I intend to do so. But for now, if you are unwilling to extend the same hand of friendship to Kobelt the gnome as you did to me, then I have no choice but to leave Goldenberry. I will travel with Kobelt until I find a place where he can be safe. A place where he can recover from the many wrongs he has endured. No matter how long or far.”

  At that, Charlie Cucumber leapt up from his seat and took his stand next to Chastity.

  “And I’ll leave too!”

  The halflings were cut to the quick by the speech. Their round faces were drained of their usual warmth, their eyes alternately wide in stunned surprise or puffy. Mayor Roundhedge fell to his knees in front of Chastity and Charlie, clutching his cap.

  “O! What have we done!” he cried. “Your Worshipfulness, you have called us out right and proper. Your words go straight to the heart of the matter, they do!”

  Others similarly took up the lament, embarrassed to the point of tears by their behavior towards the gnome.

  Mrs. Underfoot ran and threw herself down, holding onto the Tall Lady’s legs with all her strength.

  “I’m so ashamed, Chastity! What can we do to make it right? O, what can we do?”

  Chasity gently pried the halfling off and knelt gently before her.

  “Now, now, Mrs. Underfoot. You are one of the kindest folks I’ve ever met, and that is the truth. I know you have a big heart, and I am so grateful for all you’ve done for me. I believe every one of us needs to make the choice, each day, to extend that kindness… and not to grow weary of doing good.”

  In all the hubbub, a few of the village children (who had ignored the clanging summons and chose instead to have a rousing, early morning snowball fight) flung open the tavern door, flooding the cramped establishment with morning light.

  “Hey! Hey!” they called out with youthful excitement. “The big wheel’s turning! The mill! The mill! Someone fixed the mill!”