Tavis Slackhat was a Garden Gnome. That’s Gnome to you lot. Not a nome, not a nom, but a proper Ga-nome.
His beard was long and white. His jacket was bright red with a bit of fading and wear on the left sleeve where that big one grass eater had hit him. His trousers were the dark green of wet grass. His boots were black but not as shiny as they had been.
His hat was red, bright red, really bright red. But sadly not a normal Gnome hat.
No Tavis had once had a fine Gnome hat, tall and straight. But he had been young, he had seen that big old ginger tom and instead of doing what all Gnomes do and stood still, he had run for it.
The cat had given chase because, well, it was a cat and cats chase things.
Then there was the pond and the fish and slippery stones.
It had taken him a week to get out and by then his wonderful tall Gnome hat was sort of floppy and the tip bent over and hung down the back.
So Slackhat it was. Not the most proud of gnomish names but at least he wasn’t that poor sod Periwinkle barearse.
There was a council of war going on. Gnomes from all over had been summoned to the council.
No less than three commanders and even some of the elders were here.
Everyone sat or stood or fished and talked slowly so no one could see them move.
Gnomes do a lot of that, gnomes running around is very frowned upon. Young gnomes play a bit but are quickly encouraged to stop such un gnomish behaviour.
Doing nothing is the gnomish way, which is why fishing is the only real gnomish hobby. Nothing like fishing for doing something while doing nothing.
Anyway there was a problem. Pixies.
Thieves and backstabbers, the favourite nasty boys of the elves. No elf would stoop to getting his dainty hands dirty, they sent the pixies to do all the dirty jobs.
Yes, there were pixies on the housing estate. Several birds had already been killed, their little broken bodies left to warn everyone else that the Pixies had arrived and were claiming the estate. A squirrel had been attacked and now had a nasty cut on her nose.
Pixies meant trouble and so the council had been called.
Mrs Perkins was a big one, humans they called themselves but no one else called them that because everyone thought of themselves as being human not just the ruddy great lumbering big ones.
She had just come home, shopping bags full of the week’s food and a powerful need for a cup of tea with just a drop of whiskey.
As she was trying to get her door key out without putting down her bags she glanced to the left and noticed that next door had filled their garden with gnomes. It was odd, she didn’t notice all those gnomes when she went out this morning.
Then she got the key out and thoughts of a nice cup of tea chased any thoughts of gnomes from her mind.
The council had been talking for several hours now. A few had suggested that they go looking for the Pixies but they were shushed, going out looking for trouble was very un gnomish. Some had suggested asking for help, Black Tor was close by and the Dwarves would not take well to having thieving Pixies nearby but that would be as good as saying the Gnomes couldn’t look after their own estate.
Eventually they reached agreement. They would do nothing in the gnomish way.
They would spread out and keep watch, a gnome in every garden and wait for the pixies to come out of hiding.
A good gnomish plan that, wait and see.
~
His beard was long and white. His jacket was bright red with a bit of fading and wear on the left sleeve where that big one grass eater had hit him. His trousers were the dark green of wet grass. His boots were black but not as shiny as they had been.
His hat was red, bright red, really bright red. But sadly not a normal Gnome hat.
No Tavis had once had a fine Gnome hat, tall and straight. But he had been young, he had seen that big old ginger tom and instead of doing what all Gnomes do and stood still, he had run for it.
The cat had given chase because, well, it was a cat and cats chase things.
Then there was the pond and the fish and slippery stones.
It had taken him a week to get out and by then his wonderful tall Gnome hat was sort of floppy and the tip bent over and hung down the back.
So Slackhat it was. Not the most proud of gnomish names but at least he wasn’t that poor sod Periwinkle barearse.
There was a council of war going on. Gnomes from all over had been summoned to the council.
No less than three commanders and even some of the elders were here.
Everyone sat or stood or fished and talked slowly so no one could see them move.
Gnomes do a lot of that, gnomes running around is very frowned upon. Young gnomes play a bit but are quickly encouraged to stop such un gnomish behaviour.
Doing nothing is the gnomish way, which is why fishing is the only real gnomish hobby. Nothing like fishing for doing something while doing nothing.
Anyway there was a problem. Pixies.
Thieves and backstabbers, the favourite nasty boys of the elves. No elf would stoop to getting his dainty hands dirty, they sent the pixies to do all the dirty jobs.
Yes, there were pixies on the housing estate. Several birds had already been killed, their little broken bodies left to warn everyone else that the Pixies had arrived and were claiming the estate. A squirrel had been attacked and now had a nasty cut on her nose.
Pixies meant trouble and so the council had been called.
Mrs Perkins was a big one, humans they called themselves but no one else called them that because everyone thought of themselves as being human not just the ruddy great lumbering big ones.
She had just come home, shopping bags full of the week’s food and a powerful need for a cup of tea with just a drop of whiskey.
As she was trying to get her door key out without putting down her bags she glanced to the left and noticed that next door had filled their garden with gnomes. It was odd, she didn’t notice all those gnomes when she went out this morning.
Then she got the key out and thoughts of a nice cup of tea chased any thoughts of gnomes from her mind.
The council had been talking for several hours now. A few had suggested that they go looking for the Pixies but they were shushed, going out looking for trouble was very un gnomish. Some had suggested asking for help, Black Tor was close by and the Dwarves would not take well to having thieving Pixies nearby but that would be as good as saying the Gnomes couldn’t look after their own estate.
Eventually they reached agreement. They would do nothing in the gnomish way.
They would spread out and keep watch, a gnome in every garden and wait for the pixies to come out of hiding.
A good gnomish plan that, wait and see.
~
Tavis slackhat had been sitting in the garden on guard since the winter. The rains of January and early February had left him soaked all the time but the fine sunshine of march had dried him out and left him feeling happy.
Tonight though the heavy fog had rolled in and he could barely see the garden fence thirty gnome lengths away. He was especially alert tonight. This fog was perfect cover for the Fae to come sneaking past and a squirrel messenger had bought him word just last week that there was a big person new born three houses down.
The fog muffled sound as well as sight and so he saw the pixie at the same time that he heard it and by then it was almost close enough to touch.
Staying perfectly still to keep himself hidden behind the natural magic that made all gnomes look like stone statues if they didn’t move he tensed himself and waited.
The pixie came closer and started to pass the gnome, to the pixie or indeed to any fairy or elf a stationary gnome was nothing more than a stone and so the pixie was caught completely by surprise when Tavis smashed in the back of its head killing it instantly.
As the body fell and vanished into sparkles as it returned to the Fae realm Tavis heard the rustle of silk and turned barely in time to block the blow of a pixie blade that was slashing towards his throat.
There were two of the thieves. Of course, one pixie could not carry a big person baby, there were probably at least three if this was a snatch squad. The pixies would carry off the human baby and there would be an elf around somewhere with the changeling. Even the touch of a big folk was dangerous to an elf which is why they sent the pixies to do the dirty work.
Tavis whistled as loudly as he could, both to alert the other nearby gnomes and to summon a messenger squirrel then he had to concentrate on fighting. The pixie was fast and agile, even with a dagger against the longer club the pixie has the advantage.
Slash and block, swing and dodge. The battle could only go one way and all too soon the pixie blade struck home in gnomish flesh. Tavis was mortally wounded but the pixie thought the battle was done and had dropped its guard.
The gnomes club hit with all the strength the dying gnome had left and he hit the pixie across the knees.
Tavis’s last sight before life left him and his body began to sink back into the earth was the pixie writhing on the ground with shattered knee caps.
The messenger squirrel had been dozing several gardens away when she heard the call and had bounded over as quickly as she could but she was too late. She saw the last flash of red as the body of Tavis the gnome was returned to the earth.
Pausing only to bite the head off the screaming pixie she fled back to the trees to report this to the closest gnome commander, the one fishing by the pond at number 31.
The baby girl slept on, not knowing or caring how close she had come to being snatched by pixies and replaced by an elf changeling.
~
Tonight though the heavy fog had rolled in and he could barely see the garden fence thirty gnome lengths away. He was especially alert tonight. This fog was perfect cover for the Fae to come sneaking past and a squirrel messenger had bought him word just last week that there was a big person new born three houses down.
The fog muffled sound as well as sight and so he saw the pixie at the same time that he heard it and by then it was almost close enough to touch.
Staying perfectly still to keep himself hidden behind the natural magic that made all gnomes look like stone statues if they didn’t move he tensed himself and waited.
The pixie came closer and started to pass the gnome, to the pixie or indeed to any fairy or elf a stationary gnome was nothing more than a stone and so the pixie was caught completely by surprise when Tavis smashed in the back of its head killing it instantly.
As the body fell and vanished into sparkles as it returned to the Fae realm Tavis heard the rustle of silk and turned barely in time to block the blow of a pixie blade that was slashing towards his throat.
There were two of the thieves. Of course, one pixie could not carry a big person baby, there were probably at least three if this was a snatch squad. The pixies would carry off the human baby and there would be an elf around somewhere with the changeling. Even the touch of a big folk was dangerous to an elf which is why they sent the pixies to do the dirty work.
Tavis whistled as loudly as he could, both to alert the other nearby gnomes and to summon a messenger squirrel then he had to concentrate on fighting. The pixie was fast and agile, even with a dagger against the longer club the pixie has the advantage.
Slash and block, swing and dodge. The battle could only go one way and all too soon the pixie blade struck home in gnomish flesh. Tavis was mortally wounded but the pixie thought the battle was done and had dropped its guard.
The gnomes club hit with all the strength the dying gnome had left and he hit the pixie across the knees.
Tavis’s last sight before life left him and his body began to sink back into the earth was the pixie writhing on the ground with shattered knee caps.
The messenger squirrel had been dozing several gardens away when she heard the call and had bounded over as quickly as she could but she was too late. She saw the last flash of red as the body of Tavis the gnome was returned to the earth.
Pausing only to bite the head off the screaming pixie she fled back to the trees to report this to the closest gnome commander, the one fishing by the pond at number 31.
The baby girl slept on, not knowing or caring how close she had come to being snatched by pixies and replaced by an elf changeling.
~
The messenger squirrel ran along the branches of the tree then dropped down to run along the garden fence. She was forced to drop into several gardens and run across them on the ground but it was dark, she was in a hurry and the only thing that saw her was the sleepy old hound in number 35.
She reached 31 and ran the length of the fence to reach the front garden where she found Ebly Bighook in his favourite position, sitting on a mushroom with a fishing rod in his hands.
She dropped down to the grass and ran across to him and quickly explained what she had seen.
“Bugger it” came the reply, spoken with ungnome like haste. “Tavis was a good gnome”.
Ebly stood up, picking up his sitting mushroom and fishing rod as he did so.
“They will be after the newborn in 24, best we be there first then”.
He set out across the garden with what was, for a gnome, a fast pace and as he did so he gave the squirrel some rapid instructions.
The squirrel ran off as Elby scrambled up the hedge that separated the garden from the stone path and then the black ground where the big ones land dragons slept.
No gnome likes to go anywhere near the black ground, it’s a nasty unnatural stuff. Not earth or stone or wood. It got hot enough to boil a gnomes feet in summer and it was always covered in land dragon dribble.
Plus it was where the land dragons lived and slept and no gnome interested in a long life went anywhere near them.
Huge great things, roaring and bellowing, their breath made you choke and they would crush you flat as soon as look at you. They were too fast to run from and not moving just got you killed when they ran over the top of you.
Oh and they had huge glowing eyes.
Only the big ones were stupid enough to go anywhere near the land dragons.
But Elby needed to be on the other side of the black ground. Moving as carefully as possible he slid between two of the sleeping dragons, the stench nearly made him sick but he was a gnome commander and he had fought an elf so a sleeping dragon didn’t scare him.
Much.
He made it to the open area and holding tight to his hat, his fishing rod and his sitting mushroom he ran across the vast empty area of black ground. He was panting by the time he reached the other side, he was out of shape that was all, it was nothing to do with the black ground or being in the open or the dragons. No, he was just out of shape.
~
The pixies slid through the fog, over fences and under fences until they reached the garden of the Big Ones house where the smell of milk and sick was strongest. The new born was here.
They had lost two on the way over, some gnome in a floppy hat had jumped out and ambushed them but they got him in return and now the remaining four had arrived.
This should be easy, the big one house didn’t even have a dog.
The biggest pixie waved the others towards the house and a quick climb up the brick work to an open window where the new born was lying unguarded.
The last thing the pixie saw was a big stone fishing rod coming towards his face and a voice shouting “Get em Lads”.
Five gnomes and one squirrel made short work of the pixies, all but the smallest one who had been bringing up the rear. That one turned and fled as soon as the gnomes attacked.
Unfortunately for him he ran straight into next doors cat which had been stalking across the grass planning on fresh squirrel for dinner.
By the time the cat had finished trying to work out why the funny little two legged thing he had just clawed turned into a cloud of sparkles the squirrel was gone and the garden was empty of anything apart from a few gnomes.
Cats being cats the fact that one gnome was fishing in the middle of the lawn wasn’t important and the cat turned away and went down the garden following the smell of frightened squirrel.
Elby waited till the cat had gone and called the other gnomes together. It was time to go back to their gardens. Job well done.
Just before he left the garden to go to collect Tavis and take him back to the gnome hall Elby glanced up towards the open window on the big ones house.
There was a flicker of movement, more imagined than seen but for just a second it looked for all the world as if a teddy bear standing on the window sill had saluted him.
Elby left the garden and high above an ancient tattered teddy bear returned to his job.
~
She reached 31 and ran the length of the fence to reach the front garden where she found Ebly Bighook in his favourite position, sitting on a mushroom with a fishing rod in his hands.
She dropped down to the grass and ran across to him and quickly explained what she had seen.
“Bugger it” came the reply, spoken with ungnome like haste. “Tavis was a good gnome”.
Ebly stood up, picking up his sitting mushroom and fishing rod as he did so.
“They will be after the newborn in 24, best we be there first then”.
He set out across the garden with what was, for a gnome, a fast pace and as he did so he gave the squirrel some rapid instructions.
The squirrel ran off as Elby scrambled up the hedge that separated the garden from the stone path and then the black ground where the big ones land dragons slept.
No gnome likes to go anywhere near the black ground, it’s a nasty unnatural stuff. Not earth or stone or wood. It got hot enough to boil a gnomes feet in summer and it was always covered in land dragon dribble.
Plus it was where the land dragons lived and slept and no gnome interested in a long life went anywhere near them.
Huge great things, roaring and bellowing, their breath made you choke and they would crush you flat as soon as look at you. They were too fast to run from and not moving just got you killed when they ran over the top of you.
Oh and they had huge glowing eyes.
Only the big ones were stupid enough to go anywhere near the land dragons.
But Elby needed to be on the other side of the black ground. Moving as carefully as possible he slid between two of the sleeping dragons, the stench nearly made him sick but he was a gnome commander and he had fought an elf so a sleeping dragon didn’t scare him.
Much.
He made it to the open area and holding tight to his hat, his fishing rod and his sitting mushroom he ran across the vast empty area of black ground. He was panting by the time he reached the other side, he was out of shape that was all, it was nothing to do with the black ground or being in the open or the dragons. No, he was just out of shape.
~
The pixies slid through the fog, over fences and under fences until they reached the garden of the Big Ones house where the smell of milk and sick was strongest. The new born was here.
They had lost two on the way over, some gnome in a floppy hat had jumped out and ambushed them but they got him in return and now the remaining four had arrived.
This should be easy, the big one house didn’t even have a dog.
The biggest pixie waved the others towards the house and a quick climb up the brick work to an open window where the new born was lying unguarded.
The last thing the pixie saw was a big stone fishing rod coming towards his face and a voice shouting “Get em Lads”.
Five gnomes and one squirrel made short work of the pixies, all but the smallest one who had been bringing up the rear. That one turned and fled as soon as the gnomes attacked.
Unfortunately for him he ran straight into next doors cat which had been stalking across the grass planning on fresh squirrel for dinner.
By the time the cat had finished trying to work out why the funny little two legged thing he had just clawed turned into a cloud of sparkles the squirrel was gone and the garden was empty of anything apart from a few gnomes.
Cats being cats the fact that one gnome was fishing in the middle of the lawn wasn’t important and the cat turned away and went down the garden following the smell of frightened squirrel.
Elby waited till the cat had gone and called the other gnomes together. It was time to go back to their gardens. Job well done.
Just before he left the garden to go to collect Tavis and take him back to the gnome hall Elby glanced up towards the open window on the big ones house.
There was a flicker of movement, more imagined than seen but for just a second it looked for all the world as if a teddy bear standing on the window sill had saluted him.
Elby left the garden and high above an ancient tattered teddy bear returned to his job.
~
Davric of clan Black Tor was a metal shaper.
That rare but highly respected type of Dwarf that could take metal and shape it not with a forge and tools like any normal Dwarf, but with a power that had been his since he turned 50. His mind could make metal do things that only the finest of crafts dwarves could rival. He could make metal come alive.
It wasn’t spells. Elves and Fairies did spells. No Dwarf did “Spells”, any that were found to be trying were given a good kicking by dwarves wearing mining boots and then thrown out of the clan.
No, not spells. Earth magic, stone magic, metal magic. Not spells.
Today he stood in his workshop surrounded by the wonders of his art.
He was leaning over the heavy wooden table in front of him, something in oak that had once held the magazines and coffees of a big one house but just the right size for him.
The table was covered with metal in every shape and size, the most precious of building materials made by the big one Master Smith and Engineer. Gnomes and dwarves searched out the work of this big one for it was greatly prized by the clans and by the Metal shapers.
To return home bearing the metals or better yet a box marked with the Great Engineers name was to be held in high regard that year.
Yes, the work of the big one smith named “Mechano” was much prized amongst the clans.
Davric had worked through the night and the following day, watched by a score of gnomes who stood or sat out of the way on the lowest of the shelves that filled every wall.
Now he was ready.
He reached out and carefully picked up a pair of cables, big one made and difficult for the hands of a Dwarf. They were connected to a huge black box sitting on the floor beside the table, a box of electricity, almost new, that had been found by salvagers only days ago specifically for this.
Davric slowly and carefully reached out, one cable held in each hand, each as far apart from the other as he could reach.
Painstaking slowly he bought each close to the metal plates that he had shaped for just this purpose.
Every Gnome in the room drew a deep breath and Davric glared at them as the rush of wind rustled his beard.
Every Gnome held that breath, waiting, waiting.
The contacts touched the metal plates.
There was a crackle, a sharp smell, lightning shot between the two plates, through the mound of metal and stone.
Then the lightning was gone and the crackle was gone. Only the strong sharp smell remained, filling the room.
A score of gnomes held their breaths, waiting.
Beneath the pile of metal something moved, the slightest of movements. Then another movement and suddenly the pile rose and fell apart.
Sitting up from within the metal Tavis the Gnome swept the room with his gaze, the harsh glow of electricity fading from his eyes. His bare chest and shoulders now covered with a frame of the precious Mechano, the steady click of tiny cogs within his chest barely audible in the silence of the room.
The Gnome, now half machine, looked at the Dwarf standing above him and in a voice slightly more mechanical than his normal tone asked.
“What’s for tea?”
The room filled with cheers, a score of gnomes all shouting and laughing and from the corridor outside the sound of another score of gnomes plus the rustle of satisfaction from a handful of watching dwarfs who considered it beneath their dignity to laugh or cheer in public.
Tavis Cogheart the Gnome was back.
~
That rare but highly respected type of Dwarf that could take metal and shape it not with a forge and tools like any normal Dwarf, but with a power that had been his since he turned 50. His mind could make metal do things that only the finest of crafts dwarves could rival. He could make metal come alive.
It wasn’t spells. Elves and Fairies did spells. No Dwarf did “Spells”, any that were found to be trying were given a good kicking by dwarves wearing mining boots and then thrown out of the clan.
No, not spells. Earth magic, stone magic, metal magic. Not spells.
Today he stood in his workshop surrounded by the wonders of his art.
He was leaning over the heavy wooden table in front of him, something in oak that had once held the magazines and coffees of a big one house but just the right size for him.
The table was covered with metal in every shape and size, the most precious of building materials made by the big one Master Smith and Engineer. Gnomes and dwarves searched out the work of this big one for it was greatly prized by the clans and by the Metal shapers.
To return home bearing the metals or better yet a box marked with the Great Engineers name was to be held in high regard that year.
Yes, the work of the big one smith named “Mechano” was much prized amongst the clans.
Davric had worked through the night and the following day, watched by a score of gnomes who stood or sat out of the way on the lowest of the shelves that filled every wall.
Now he was ready.
He reached out and carefully picked up a pair of cables, big one made and difficult for the hands of a Dwarf. They were connected to a huge black box sitting on the floor beside the table, a box of electricity, almost new, that had been found by salvagers only days ago specifically for this.
Davric slowly and carefully reached out, one cable held in each hand, each as far apart from the other as he could reach.
Painstaking slowly he bought each close to the metal plates that he had shaped for just this purpose.
Every Gnome in the room drew a deep breath and Davric glared at them as the rush of wind rustled his beard.
Every Gnome held that breath, waiting, waiting.
The contacts touched the metal plates.
There was a crackle, a sharp smell, lightning shot between the two plates, through the mound of metal and stone.
Then the lightning was gone and the crackle was gone. Only the strong sharp smell remained, filling the room.
A score of gnomes held their breaths, waiting.
Beneath the pile of metal something moved, the slightest of movements. Then another movement and suddenly the pile rose and fell apart.
Sitting up from within the metal Tavis the Gnome swept the room with his gaze, the harsh glow of electricity fading from his eyes. His bare chest and shoulders now covered with a frame of the precious Mechano, the steady click of tiny cogs within his chest barely audible in the silence of the room.
The Gnome, now half machine, looked at the Dwarf standing above him and in a voice slightly more mechanical than his normal tone asked.
“What’s for tea?”
The room filled with cheers, a score of gnomes all shouting and laughing and from the corridor outside the sound of another score of gnomes plus the rustle of satisfaction from a handful of watching dwarfs who considered it beneath their dignity to laugh or cheer in public.
Tavis Cogheart the Gnome was back.
~
It had been several weeks since the Pixie snatch squad had
been killed and there had not been a single report of the remaining pixies.
Then a sparrow arrived at the gnome hall and chirped frantically until a nearby gnome opened one of the doors and let it fly in.
The sparrow was so excited it took three tries before the gnomes understood what it was trying to say. The little bird had seen an elf, it had been hiding in the bushes at the bottom of a big one house.
It took a while to find out where this had been, birds are not good with details like house numbers and they had a view of things that was from the top down whereas gnomes tended to see the world from the bottom up.
But eventually they had it worked out.
The elf was at number 24 where the newborn big one was.
There were two gnomes in that garden now and another either side though the gnome in 22 was having trouble with the dog in that garden, Brutus was a curious and playful young dog and kept trying to work out where the new garden gnome had come from.
Still four gnomes against an elf and however many pixies were left would lead to four dead gnomes so every squirrel in range was sent out. Every single gnome was to muster and slip into the garden of number 24.
The Eastbury Heights Gnomes were going to war.
It took the whole day for the gnomes to move into the gardens, without the cover of darkness the gnomes moved as slowly as possible, apart from the dash across the black ground, even the bravest gnome would not linger on that foul surface.
But by midnight they had assembled, they filled the edges of the garden, no less than four were now fishing in the tiny goldfish pond much to the amusement of the two goldfish that lived there.
An even dozen stood or sat along the edge of the footpath.
Tavis had been sent to hide deep within the overgrown flower box where his metal shoulders would not give the game away.
For days and nights the gnomes waited. Bothered only by the big one children who came out one morning to discover that the garden was full of gnomes. Their parents were busy with the baby and so wild stories from the children about an army of gnomes who moved themselves around at night were met with smiles and the sort of tolerance for make believe that only parents of youngsters can manage.
Then the fog came in again. So thick a gnome could barely see a few gnome lengths away.
~
There were six pixies left to serve the elf, five were with the elf lurking in the tangle at the very bottom of the garden, one had been sent to sneak around the side of the house and check for gnomes. The elf was not worried by a few gnomes but it was running out of pixies and unless it successfully stole the big one newborn and replaced it with the changeling he would not be able to buy any more pixies which would leave him getting those looks from the other elves.
Oh dear, only six pixies, how sad.
So it was now or never, the glamour on the changeling was fading, it had to be done tonight and the fog was perfect.
One pixie was picked at random and sent up the garden towards the house, the other pixies laughed as the victim set out to spring any gnome ambush and at the fact that they were not being sent.
The pixie ran from bush to bush, hiding while he searched the garden and then ran to the next bit of cover. Several times he stopped close enough to touch a gnome but they stayed still.
One Pixie was not enough to move for, not yet.
The pixie reached the house and breathed out in relief then called out to tell the elf it was clear.
While waiting for the others to arrive the pixie scout climbed up onto one of the stones surrounding the little fish pond to see if he could reach the fish, to a pixie a goldfish is a decent meal.
The elf with its remaining four pixies began to walk up the garden towards the house, the elf holding tight to the bundle of rags that held the changeling.
They had reached the end of the grass and the edge of the patio when a splash came from ahead of them.
Pausing to try and work out what the sound meant the elf called out for the pixie that should be there.
That particular pixie didn’t hear the call and could not have answered if it wanted to since a pair of gnomes were busy holding its head underwater in the pond. The goldfish has vanished under the one lily leaf that gave them shade in the summer.
The elf stepped forward onto the patio beside the flower box which took him close enough to see one of his pixies head first in the fish pond and suddenly it knew there were gnomes about.
As it drew a breath to alert the pixies a Gnomish voice shouted “Get em lads” and the garden was suddenly full of moving gnomes.
The elf saw one larger gnome charging at it, swinging a fishing rod overhead. Kicking out the elf stubbed its toe but sent the gnome flying, Elby was a veteran and had fought an elf before so as he saw the kick coming he froze and the elf kicked stone.
Of course the trick was to be moving before you landed as a stone gnome will shatter if it hits a hard surface.
Elby was moving when he hit and though he had the wind knocked out of him as he slammed into the locked gate that led to next door he was otherwise unharmed.
Brutus had been dozing on the porch, dreaming doggy dreams, his legs twitching as he chased something in his sleep.
Then someone knocked on the side gate and he woke up with a bark.
From the ground where he was laying Elby heard the dog, looked up and saw the sliding latch that was locking the gate and a most cunning plan came to mind.
~
The other gnomes came out of the fog like a tiny wave of bright red or green hats. The four pixies found themselves surrounded and two were so close to the gnomes that they died without ever seeing anything.
The other two tried to run for it, two pixies would happily fight two or three gnomes but when there are at least twenty gnomes the pixies fled like the cowards and bullies they are.
With the garden so full of gnomes one of them actually got five steps before it died, the other one was on its third step.
The gnomes facing the elf were much more careful; those in front of the elf stayed still, those behind moved in with clubs or fishing rods at the ready.
Sensing the mass of moving gnomes behind it the elf spun around to face down the garden.
~
The pixie that had been sent to sneak round the side of the house had climbed up the vines that covered that side and had then walked round to the window using the vines as a path. In the thick fog he could not see the garden and more importantly for him, anyone in the garden could not see him.
He reached the edge of the window and looked in. There, a shape, a gnome.
The pixie dropped from the vines and swung into the room landing on the window sill where he plunged his sharp pixie dagger into the gnomes back.
The baby was defenceless, the way was clear for the elf and this pixie was going to be rewarded for his work this night.
Then with a sudden shock of fear the pixie noticed that his victim had not fallen over, it was still standing there as if a Pixie dagger in the back was nothing to be worried about.
Almost frantic with worry the Pixie pulled his dagger free and then suddenly coughed at the cloud of dust.
Once he had finished coughing on the dust the Pixie took a closer look and with relief he realised that he had stabbed a really old teddy bear.
Then the Teddy Bear turned its head and looked straight at the Pixie and suddenly the fear was back.
Teddy Bears have been guarding children for a thousand years or more but they are mystic guardians, they are soft and cuddly, they have no claws and few of them have actual swords.
A Teddy bear will protect you from the monster under the bed or the monster in the cupboard or even those evil clown toys that some parents buy for children in the mistaken belief that clowns are harmless.
But against a physical threat a teddy bear has no weapons.
Of course they can still push a shocked Pixie out of the window if they have to.
~
Tavis burst out from the plants in the flower bed and ran as fast as he could, his head lowered and his shoulders hunched.
He hit the elf just behind the knee, the Mechano plates on his shoulder slashed through the spider silk elf trousers and stabbed into the soft flesh.
The elf screamed as only a small girl or an elf that had just been stabbed with big one metal can scream and jumped sideways trying to keep his balance and clutch at his suddenly agonising knee.
As it did so the bundle of rags that hid the changeling came lose and the changeling vanished.
The elf could not concentrate and thought only to flee from the pain of the tiny metal gnome but it was too late.
Elby had climbed high enough to reach the bar that locked the gate and he had slid the lock open.
Out came charging Brutus the dog.
Dogs have been part of Big One families for as long as there have been dogs. They have fought off elves, pixies, fairies and every sort of Fae or darkness creature since the beginning of time.
A dog that has never met a pixie will still kill it on sight.
A dog that has never been tormented by a fairy will still know in some mysterious way that fairies are a source of pain. Any dog that seems to be barking at nothing has probably noticed a fairy or a pixie.
But dogs and elves, that is different. To a dog an elf is a wonderful thing, it is a wooden stick that runs away, a self propelled fetch toy and for some reason all dogs love the taste of elf, they are like the world’s best chew toys.
On seeing or smelling an elf even the smallest dogs are driven into a frenzy of play with the toy.
Elves are very fragile though and seldom survive the encounter which is why the elf stopped clutching his knee and looked frantically round at the loud joyous woof of a dog that had seen the ultimate in toys.
The elf was tall, with the long legs of its breed and it had a head start but it was limping badly from the wound in its knee.
Brutus the Welsh terrier caught him before he was halfway down the back lawn and had his wounded leg in a death grip before the elf hit the ground.
What followed was a lot of chewing which the dog, at least, enjoyed.
~
All of the gnomes came together to find that aside from a few cuts and scratches all were fine.
They counted Pixie dead and found they were one short.
Then they heard a shriek and all turned towards the house to see the last and final pixie hit the patio, head first.
Having asked the squirrels to keep an eye on things all of the gnomes limped their way back to the gnome hall where the handful of gnome wives had bandages ready and tables groaning under the weight of a feast.
More than a few gnomes sported bandages and the rest of the night, and the following day, was spend repeating the stories and every little detail of the terrible battle in the back garden and the defeat of an elf at the fangs of a mighty big one war dog, and a gnome with a cunning plan of course.
The nights events would be entered into the history of the gnome hall and generations of gnomes not yet found would be regaled with the stories of how a handful of gnomes had bravely fought an army of pixies and the elf who led them.
Durring all the drinking and the toasting Tavis Cogheart was offered a new name.
But he said no, he was Tavis with the heart of cogs and that was enough for him, besides who wanted to be called Tavis elfknecapperdurringthebattleofnumber24.
Then a sparrow arrived at the gnome hall and chirped frantically until a nearby gnome opened one of the doors and let it fly in.
The sparrow was so excited it took three tries before the gnomes understood what it was trying to say. The little bird had seen an elf, it had been hiding in the bushes at the bottom of a big one house.
It took a while to find out where this had been, birds are not good with details like house numbers and they had a view of things that was from the top down whereas gnomes tended to see the world from the bottom up.
But eventually they had it worked out.
The elf was at number 24 where the newborn big one was.
There were two gnomes in that garden now and another either side though the gnome in 22 was having trouble with the dog in that garden, Brutus was a curious and playful young dog and kept trying to work out where the new garden gnome had come from.
Still four gnomes against an elf and however many pixies were left would lead to four dead gnomes so every squirrel in range was sent out. Every single gnome was to muster and slip into the garden of number 24.
The Eastbury Heights Gnomes were going to war.
It took the whole day for the gnomes to move into the gardens, without the cover of darkness the gnomes moved as slowly as possible, apart from the dash across the black ground, even the bravest gnome would not linger on that foul surface.
But by midnight they had assembled, they filled the edges of the garden, no less than four were now fishing in the tiny goldfish pond much to the amusement of the two goldfish that lived there.
An even dozen stood or sat along the edge of the footpath.
Tavis had been sent to hide deep within the overgrown flower box where his metal shoulders would not give the game away.
For days and nights the gnomes waited. Bothered only by the big one children who came out one morning to discover that the garden was full of gnomes. Their parents were busy with the baby and so wild stories from the children about an army of gnomes who moved themselves around at night were met with smiles and the sort of tolerance for make believe that only parents of youngsters can manage.
Then the fog came in again. So thick a gnome could barely see a few gnome lengths away.
~
There were six pixies left to serve the elf, five were with the elf lurking in the tangle at the very bottom of the garden, one had been sent to sneak around the side of the house and check for gnomes. The elf was not worried by a few gnomes but it was running out of pixies and unless it successfully stole the big one newborn and replaced it with the changeling he would not be able to buy any more pixies which would leave him getting those looks from the other elves.
Oh dear, only six pixies, how sad.
So it was now or never, the glamour on the changeling was fading, it had to be done tonight and the fog was perfect.
One pixie was picked at random and sent up the garden towards the house, the other pixies laughed as the victim set out to spring any gnome ambush and at the fact that they were not being sent.
The pixie ran from bush to bush, hiding while he searched the garden and then ran to the next bit of cover. Several times he stopped close enough to touch a gnome but they stayed still.
One Pixie was not enough to move for, not yet.
The pixie reached the house and breathed out in relief then called out to tell the elf it was clear.
While waiting for the others to arrive the pixie scout climbed up onto one of the stones surrounding the little fish pond to see if he could reach the fish, to a pixie a goldfish is a decent meal.
The elf with its remaining four pixies began to walk up the garden towards the house, the elf holding tight to the bundle of rags that held the changeling.
They had reached the end of the grass and the edge of the patio when a splash came from ahead of them.
Pausing to try and work out what the sound meant the elf called out for the pixie that should be there.
That particular pixie didn’t hear the call and could not have answered if it wanted to since a pair of gnomes were busy holding its head underwater in the pond. The goldfish has vanished under the one lily leaf that gave them shade in the summer.
The elf stepped forward onto the patio beside the flower box which took him close enough to see one of his pixies head first in the fish pond and suddenly it knew there were gnomes about.
As it drew a breath to alert the pixies a Gnomish voice shouted “Get em lads” and the garden was suddenly full of moving gnomes.
The elf saw one larger gnome charging at it, swinging a fishing rod overhead. Kicking out the elf stubbed its toe but sent the gnome flying, Elby was a veteran and had fought an elf before so as he saw the kick coming he froze and the elf kicked stone.
Of course the trick was to be moving before you landed as a stone gnome will shatter if it hits a hard surface.
Elby was moving when he hit and though he had the wind knocked out of him as he slammed into the locked gate that led to next door he was otherwise unharmed.
Brutus had been dozing on the porch, dreaming doggy dreams, his legs twitching as he chased something in his sleep.
Then someone knocked on the side gate and he woke up with a bark.
From the ground where he was laying Elby heard the dog, looked up and saw the sliding latch that was locking the gate and a most cunning plan came to mind.
~
The other gnomes came out of the fog like a tiny wave of bright red or green hats. The four pixies found themselves surrounded and two were so close to the gnomes that they died without ever seeing anything.
The other two tried to run for it, two pixies would happily fight two or three gnomes but when there are at least twenty gnomes the pixies fled like the cowards and bullies they are.
With the garden so full of gnomes one of them actually got five steps before it died, the other one was on its third step.
The gnomes facing the elf were much more careful; those in front of the elf stayed still, those behind moved in with clubs or fishing rods at the ready.
Sensing the mass of moving gnomes behind it the elf spun around to face down the garden.
~
The pixie that had been sent to sneak round the side of the house had climbed up the vines that covered that side and had then walked round to the window using the vines as a path. In the thick fog he could not see the garden and more importantly for him, anyone in the garden could not see him.
He reached the edge of the window and looked in. There, a shape, a gnome.
The pixie dropped from the vines and swung into the room landing on the window sill where he plunged his sharp pixie dagger into the gnomes back.
The baby was defenceless, the way was clear for the elf and this pixie was going to be rewarded for his work this night.
Then with a sudden shock of fear the pixie noticed that his victim had not fallen over, it was still standing there as if a Pixie dagger in the back was nothing to be worried about.
Almost frantic with worry the Pixie pulled his dagger free and then suddenly coughed at the cloud of dust.
Once he had finished coughing on the dust the Pixie took a closer look and with relief he realised that he had stabbed a really old teddy bear.
Then the Teddy Bear turned its head and looked straight at the Pixie and suddenly the fear was back.
Teddy Bears have been guarding children for a thousand years or more but they are mystic guardians, they are soft and cuddly, they have no claws and few of them have actual swords.
A Teddy bear will protect you from the monster under the bed or the monster in the cupboard or even those evil clown toys that some parents buy for children in the mistaken belief that clowns are harmless.
But against a physical threat a teddy bear has no weapons.
Of course they can still push a shocked Pixie out of the window if they have to.
~
Tavis burst out from the plants in the flower bed and ran as fast as he could, his head lowered and his shoulders hunched.
He hit the elf just behind the knee, the Mechano plates on his shoulder slashed through the spider silk elf trousers and stabbed into the soft flesh.
The elf screamed as only a small girl or an elf that had just been stabbed with big one metal can scream and jumped sideways trying to keep his balance and clutch at his suddenly agonising knee.
As it did so the bundle of rags that hid the changeling came lose and the changeling vanished.
The elf could not concentrate and thought only to flee from the pain of the tiny metal gnome but it was too late.
Elby had climbed high enough to reach the bar that locked the gate and he had slid the lock open.
Out came charging Brutus the dog.
Dogs have been part of Big One families for as long as there have been dogs. They have fought off elves, pixies, fairies and every sort of Fae or darkness creature since the beginning of time.
A dog that has never met a pixie will still kill it on sight.
A dog that has never been tormented by a fairy will still know in some mysterious way that fairies are a source of pain. Any dog that seems to be barking at nothing has probably noticed a fairy or a pixie.
But dogs and elves, that is different. To a dog an elf is a wonderful thing, it is a wooden stick that runs away, a self propelled fetch toy and for some reason all dogs love the taste of elf, they are like the world’s best chew toys.
On seeing or smelling an elf even the smallest dogs are driven into a frenzy of play with the toy.
Elves are very fragile though and seldom survive the encounter which is why the elf stopped clutching his knee and looked frantically round at the loud joyous woof of a dog that had seen the ultimate in toys.
The elf was tall, with the long legs of its breed and it had a head start but it was limping badly from the wound in its knee.
Brutus the Welsh terrier caught him before he was halfway down the back lawn and had his wounded leg in a death grip before the elf hit the ground.
What followed was a lot of chewing which the dog, at least, enjoyed.
~
All of the gnomes came together to find that aside from a few cuts and scratches all were fine.
They counted Pixie dead and found they were one short.
Then they heard a shriek and all turned towards the house to see the last and final pixie hit the patio, head first.
Having asked the squirrels to keep an eye on things all of the gnomes limped their way back to the gnome hall where the handful of gnome wives had bandages ready and tables groaning under the weight of a feast.
More than a few gnomes sported bandages and the rest of the night, and the following day, was spend repeating the stories and every little detail of the terrible battle in the back garden and the defeat of an elf at the fangs of a mighty big one war dog, and a gnome with a cunning plan of course.
The nights events would be entered into the history of the gnome hall and generations of gnomes not yet found would be regaled with the stories of how a handful of gnomes had bravely fought an army of pixies and the elf who led them.
Durring all the drinking and the toasting Tavis Cogheart was offered a new name.
But he said no, he was Tavis with the heart of cogs and that was enough for him, besides who wanted to be called Tavis elfknecapperdurringthebattleofnumber24.