Greyhawk adventures - Artifact of Evil Part 5

"Tell him that - and inform him also that I am many leagues ahead of him! Already have I sussed out" - and Iuz's laughter here was awful as he threw his head back at the play on words and allowed peals of demoniac glee to roll from his throat - "the whereabouts of the second portion of the key to the prison of that One Who Must Never Awaken!" He paused to eye the kneeling drow cleric, then continued.

"Tell my concerned parent that even now one of my own loyal servants carries it to me! Tell him that he commands neither me nor mine, does Graz'zt. I shall retain the eldritch object in My possession, and I shall otherwise do as I think best - of course, always in the interest of furthering the ultimate ends of our . . . alliance.

"Lastly, inform the Prince of the Abyss that I shall seek out my mother. I shall aid her mission. I shall personally welcome Zuggtmoy to our alliance, and because of this I shall take responsibility for her complete agreement and cooperation. Cooperation amongst equals! Remember that, drow - equals. Now finish your work, and hurry off to pa.s.s this message, this whole encounter, back to Graz'zt where he must remain fixed for decades yet, upon the layers he rules in the great Abyss."The high priestess arose and hurried off, not daring to utter any reply. Iuz's malign laughter rolled after her. Eclavdra ignored it, vowing to have her vengeance in due course upon the fat, red pig who called himself Lord of Evil.

Iuz, meanwhile, was thinking of the day to come when he would show his loving father the true worth of his offspring, and would do so in terms that left no uncertainty as to who was in shadow, who in glory! This did not distract him from the object of his current desire, the determination of just how successful his minions were in their mission. Iuz dared not scry often, nor employ great powers, in tracking or a.s.sisting them, for to do so was sure to draw the attention of those who served Hades, h.e.l.l, and those mult.i.tudes on the lower planes who sought the revival of Tharizdun. He shook in anger even thinking the name, for it brought fear to him, and Iuz dared not speak the cursed syllables of that one's name aloud. He used one of his black-gowned magic-users to discover the information needed. This too frustrated Iuz, but expediency was bearable - for the nonce.

Soon the Lord of Evil stood guised in his ancient form while the six of greatest standing performed their duties. A large pool of inky blackness rippled and shimmered, and before his eyes there swam the scene he desired to view.

Chapter 9.

Cord muttered an obscenity as a loose rock bruised and abraded his fingers. "This is no way to treat the hands of a skilled artist," he continued as Deirdre gave him a quizzical look.

It was nearly noon, and the sun was hot. Gord, for one, was tired, but the work had to go on. They had discovered signs of the disturbance - the recent disturbance - of a three-tiered structure. This building stood on a low mound in about the center of the peninsula, so overgrown that from any distance it appeared to be nothing more than a small hill. Up close it was revealed as a large building, probably a temple of some sort. Part of the building's north face had been collapsed by the intruders, who then used a few small plants and much dead brush to hide the fact from casual observation. Of course, Gord and his group had easily noted the tampering once they were close enough to realize the building was there. Now all save the party's sentries were working to clear away the landslide to find what lay beyond.

Deirdre and Incosee levered out a large stone block, allowing gravity to clear it once it was free of the rubble. It rolled and b.u.mped down the hillside, landing amidst the other debris they had sent the same way. Moon gave a shout, for although a shower of smaller rocks and bits of broken stone had cascaded into the place the squared-off block had been, a small opening was visible beyond.

They had uncovered the entrance to the place at last!

"Don't stand and gape, Gord!" shouted Deirdre. "Lend a hand here, and we'll soon find what's within!" Matching her enthusiastic urging with action, the girl began to clear rubble away from the small opening with gusto. The head-sized chunks of building stone fairly flew behind her in a stream as she grabbed and pitched them between her legs. Gord and Incosee joined in, and after about a quarter-hour they were replaced by Moon, Patrick, and Blonk. Then the task was taken up by the three novice druids, Grover, Lorman, and Ash.

The whole operation was supervised by Curley Greenleaf s watchful eye - watching amid jibes about laziness and letting others do the real work. Recalling the cairn and the cataboligne demon, Curley simply ignored all comments and demanded that the opening be large enough for at least two persons to pa.s.s through easily with no danger of further block* age from rubble above. The third shift finished the task, and the guards were called in. Soon Gellor, Jokotai, and Oscar were gathered with the others, and the adventurers devised a plan.

The half-elven druid cast an illusion over the place so that it appeared to be a thick stand of trees. Unless they actually entered, observers would see nothing else, for the dweomer hid the torn vegetation and the jumble of material they had cleared from the temple's entrance. Curley Greenleaf, Gellor, and Gord would precede the rest into the building, for all three had ability to see in the blackness of the place without benefit of light. Blonk, Jokotai, and the three aspirants would remain behind to guard the entrance and watch for possible enemies. Oscar, Deirdre, and Incosee would follow with Pa-trick and Moon bearing lanterns to illuminate their way, after giving the three advance members of the group sufficient time to get well ahead of them. If the scouting group discovered any trouble, they would send word back immediately, and whatever action was called for could then be taken. To a.s.sure easy communication with the rear guard, the three aspiring druids would be strung out in a line after the center group, each within calling distance of the next, so that information could be pa.s.sed quickly in a hushed voice a hundred feet to or from the entrance, if the need arose.

The advance party saw signs of disturbance in the corridor. A large group had pa.s.sed through the entry and into the building not many days before. Gellor didn't like this at all, nor did Curley, but there was nothing to do but press on and learn what these prior entrants had done. The place was a maze, but Gellor, with his strange, enchanted "eye" in place, was able to follow the path of the preceding group without difficulty, noting where they had backtracked and thus enabling his group to avoid unnecessary detours. As planned, the three left signs on the walls whenever they reached a place where two or more choices were possible. Gord used his magical dagger to chisel the guide marks into the temple's stone walls.

Eventually they reached a square chamber in the center of the second tier of the structure, a place that could be entered only by means of a secret stair leading down from the partially collapsed upper level of the temple. The chamber was scarred by fire and lightning, its contents were strewn in a litter of broken and burned parts, and several corpses made the air foul.

"There is no magic here!" exclaimed Gellor. "Yet there remains a powerful and dark aura surrounding that great center block,"

he said, pointing at what was undoubtedly an altar stone.

The three moved to inspect the object closely. Before they had completed their work, the yellow glow of flaming lanterns filled the chamber as Deirdre, Oscar, and the others in the center group joined them. The light made the examination much easier for Gord. They were able to determine that something supernatural had been here, and had been destroyed. The outline of some monstrous creatures was etched on the stone floor in three places, indicating that at least that number of the things had been destroyed by those who had entered before.

"Guardian daemons," Gellor commented under his breath as he observed the three smirches.

"Here, look at these bodies!" Gord called. He pointed to the remains of creatures of more usual sort - four dead humans, charred by fire but discernible as men nonetheless. There were also two other humans, one disemboweled, the other dismembered. There were broken weapons and some other equipment scattered about also.

"No telling who they were," commented Greenleaf, peering at the remains. "From the look of it they served no master and were probably nothing other than free adventurers or mercenaries."

"I think not, my friend," called Gellor. The bard had been searching the edges and corners of the chamber, and he stepped backinto the pool of light shed by the lanterns with several objects in his hand. "Look here. This is certainly a magicked arrow of elven sort, and this bow is likewise one of elvish manufacture. Now this . . ." he added, placing a hammer among the rest, "... this is unquestionably made for and sized to dwarven hands. I can't say positively, but I believe that there are signs of a gnome's presence as well. What does this mean to you?"

"Strange weapons for a band of mercenaries," noted Deirdre.

"Exactly," Gellor said, nodding. "Not to mention that their wielders were probably demi-humans. Still, these are the only traces that the invaders of this ancient temple were other than human adventurers - I thought that work blocking the entrance showed unusual skill."

"I follow your line of reasoning, Gellor," Curley said, looking from the a.s.sortment of evidence to the surrounding litter.

"Oscar, see what you can discover about what prize those daemons warded while I find if there is more to support our one-eyed detective's deductions."

While those two were going about their respective tasks, the others a.s.sisted Gellor in minutely searching the whole place once again, being careful to avoid getting in the druid's way. Eventually the whole was done. The magic-user could discover little more than what Gellor had already found. Something powerful had been here, and a bit of its aura remained, intermixed with the malign essence of the altar stone. All concluded that the object protected by this place and its guardian daemons had probably been the portion of the artifact that they sought.

Greenleaf had found an ancient, pitted silver coin, wedge-shaped, bearing a "T" on one side and a reversed pyramid on the other. It was partially lodged within a crack near the stairway leading up, and its exposed edge bore shiny marks showing recent abrasion.

There was only one probable answer; The intruders had consisted of a mixed group of humans, elves, dwarves, and possibly gnomes as well. They had managed to destroy the guardians of the temple, sack the place, and make off with the portion of the artifact and other loot as well. In the process, this group had been careful both to make discovery of their work difficult to uncover and to take precautions to mislead anyone who did find that they had been to the ruin, disguising their expedition to appear to have been a party of humans, bandits, or looting adventurers.

"This seems very bad," Gellor said. "They are days - perhaps weeks - gone, and we have no idea who they are or where they went."

"Not weeks, Gellor, that I can a.s.sure you," replied the druid. "Unless I am totally inept, they were here only days ahead of us, and after their battle with those daemons, I'd guess they traveled slowly for a few days. There are ways to find the route they took and what direction they are heading - risky, under the circ.u.mstances, but we must take the chance! The fate of all Oerth hangs in the balance, I fear."

"Oh, yes," agreed Oscar. "Whoever was here before us served the cause of Evil, that is certain, but perhaps they are not as attuned to the oneness of the cause as we think. . . ."

Gellor slapped his palm. "Of course! Excellent thinking, mage! If these fellows had been agents of the Scarlet Brotherhood, surely they would have had some means of placating those guardian daemons, leaving them intact to surprise others, and they could carry off the artifact's part without conflict. Come on, let's leave this stinking death chamber and return to the sunlight. There's much work to be done!" The eight departed in a group, hurrying to clear the ruin and begin their preparations to discover what they could about those who had taken the object of their quest.

What they discovered first was the dead body of Lorman, sprawled face down in the corridor, killed by a single sword-thrust from behind. Forty or fifty feet nearer the entrance they discovered Ash, his throat cut. Grover likewise had been murdered where he had stood between Ash and the doorway. Of Blonk and Jokotai there was no sign.

"There!" called Incosee, as they emerged from the ruin and swept the surrounding area with their gaze. "In the bush ... to the right . . . see the foot?" No question, a booted foot protruded from a small clump of brush down the sloping hillside.

Hurrying there, they discovered the motionless, mutilated body of the Chakyik nomad. There were wounds on both his back and front, and nearby were signs of a melee. Jokotai apparently had been attacked from behind, survived the initial a.s.sault, and fought with his a.s.sailant for several minutes before being slain.

"He was a tough one, Jokotai," observed Gord. "The one who slew him had already half-killed him with a stroke in the back."

"Only Blonk remains unaccounted for - and I think we all know why," said Deirdre, pale-faced but with iron in her voice.

The bard and the druid conferred for a moment, then began a rapid search of the surrounding area. Soon Gellor came up with a tattered roll of parchment, and showed it to Curley Greenleaf and the others in turn.

"Here is what I surmise happened," Gellor said. "Jokotai was tricked into coming outside, and then he was attacked by the vile chameleon, Blonk, who had used this scroll to cast a spell of silence upon himself. The blow wasn't sufficient to kill so doughty a barbarian as the Chakyik, but he was sorely wounded before he had a chance to fight. Still, he got in his strokes - see the stains upon his tulwar? Blonk, still dweomered to be able to move with no sound, then picked off the three unsuspecting sentinels. What was his purpose for all this? Now my reasoning becomes nearly pure conjecture, but see if this does not follow," Gellor said.

"If we had discovered the next piece of the tripart.i.te artifact, Blonk planned to somehow wrest it from us. The means had to be magical, not based on strength and weapon play, for one against eight is impossible odds, especially given our arts and skills. Blonk's masters, certainly the Scarlet Brotherhood, must have supplied him with the wherewithal - a scroll containing a time-cessation spell, perhaps, to be followed up with some means of sealing us into the treasure chamber, permanently or at least long enough for that foul b.a.s.t.a.r.d to make good his escape.

"I suppose that Blonk crept soundlessly after us once he had killed the druids. But involved as we all were with our examination of the place, none noticed him. It is likely, after all, that the swine was cloaked by invisibility as well. Once he was with us, he must have overheard all we discussed, stolen back, and even now rides with all of our steeds to inform his a.s.sociates of what has happened!"

As the grizzled bard spoke the last words, the rest suddenly thought of the horses. As Gellor had guessed, all of the animals were gone. Neither man nor mount was in sight, so the a.s.sa.s.sin had a solid head start, and with the party afoot, Blonk was not likely to be caught.

"What now?" asked Gord and Deirdre in near unison.

"What else than that which we were planning anyway," Greenleaf stated flatly. "Oscar, now you must employ your arts to determine the direction taken by those who preceded us and gained the object of our quest - though I'll stake my life it wasn't toward the Pomarj ... or any other rendezvous with minions of the Scarlet Sign!"

Oscar nodded and withdrew, Deirdre accompanying him, for the dangerous business of casting a divination that involved beingsnot of this plane. All the others save the druid and Gellor were given sectors to watch, so that while the dweomercrafting was taking place no enemy could approach undetected. Curley Greenleaf and his old friend, likewise schooled in the arts of nature and its a.s.sociated powers, would seek to become one with the surrounding land, to learn who had pa.s.sed, who approached, what lurked hidden from normal view. Before an hour had pa.s.sed, Gellor's low whistle alerted the four sentries to return to the cleared area where the others had been at work.

"We learned, Curley and I," said Gellor, "that a group of bipeds were here some days back and went many miles to the northwest. The murderous Blonk and our horses crossed the Jewel to the south of us, reached the other bank safely, and are now some five miles distant, with many, many others there. Even now, this mult.i.tude comes toward us, although the river stands between. There is a deep cavern north of here, a place carved by nature, and within it lairs an ancient green dragon of monstrous size and greatest evil. As Greenleaf discovered this, we both sensed it stir and rouse itself. We fear that it has been contacted and urged into action somehow, probably by those who come against us." Here the one-eyed adventurer paused and looked at Curley. "Is there more, old friend? Or did I relate it all?"

"You said all truly and exactly - as a bard should!" the druid answered. Then he turned to Oscar, inquiring, "And you, spell-caster of Hardby?"

"Our quarry speeds northward," the mage began, "after leaving the Suss for open lands in Celene. There seems to be some dissension in their midst, for they make first northwest, as if heading for Enstad - incredible as that may seem - then north and northeast for the Kron Hills or Welkwood. They do indeed have the portion of the artifact, though it is heavily protected and hidden. More about them - their master, or their ultimate destination - I could not learn."

"Well done!" said Curley. "We know that they have the prize, are not yet at the boundary of Celene, and the general direction of their flight. It is heartening indeed, and all we could expect. Thanks, boon companion and artful mage."

Oscar, always somewhat shy, simply lowered his gaze a bit and shrugged as the others smiled and congratulated him. Gellor interrupted the scene after a few seconds.

"Save this for another time, comrades," he said. "We are in dire jeopardy - a dragon comes, and unknown foes seek our lives!

Let us set our minds on the perils of our mission and save the accolades for the time of final success."

"Correct as usual," noted Curley Greenleaf. "Here, stand round me a moment. I must needs touch each of you " He began an almost inaudible chant, gesturing and occasionally bringing forth some bit of leaf or berry, then bits of wood. About halfway through the incantation, the druid began touching each of his a.s.sociates in turn, on the forehead, the hand, and the stomach.

Gord had never been so included in dweomercrafting, and he was slightly uneasy, perhaps a bit frightened, but he determined not to allow the others to see this, just as he always carefully masked all of his emotions. Whatever was to come, he knew it was meant to help, not harm, him and the others. It had better be something powerful, Gord thought, for otherwise there might be no future for any of them, not just Jokotai, Ash, Grover, and poor little Lorman.

The half-elven priest of nature had completed his touching and was walking away from them. His chant rose to a shout, and as he uttered the cry, Greenleaf threw his hands wide, sweeping them above his head in a near-magnificent gesture. The area darkened for a split second, then grew terribly bright, just as a resounding clap of thunder nearly broke Gord's eardrums and left him reeling. Blinking and trying to shake the ringing from his ears, the young thief saw something totally unexpected.

The clearing was now occupied by a pair of huge, fiery horses. These tawny, flame-coated steeds, with molten hooves and nostrils that showered burning sparks, were hitched to a large, clumsy-looking chariot likewise fashioned of living fire! With a bound, the druid was upon the vehicle, gesturing and calling to the others.

"Don't stand there gawking, friends! Enemies abound, and this will draw them faster than before. Hurry! Jump aboard, and let us be away with all haste!"

Gellor, Oscar, and even Deirdre complied instantly. The rest, including Gord, hung back. All could feel the heat, see the licking tongues of flame eating the surrounding vegetation, even though it was green and moist. How those on the flaming chariot survived was unknown to them, but surely the fire would consume them if they were so stupid as to climb into that inferno. Then Deirdre stepped down, grabbed Gord by his hand, and led the reluctant thief aboard the vehicle. Widi that, the other three followed - Incosee first, then Moon followed by Patrick. Even before that last worthy's feet were firmly aboard the chariot, Curley Greenleaf shouted words in some strange language. In response, the blazing horses pawed the ground, shot forth blasts of fire, and leaped ahead and upward. In seconds the whole group was borne into the air, the chariot trailing smoke and flames in its wake.

The druid somehow managed to guide the horses without benefit of reins or whip. They pulled the incandescent chariot ever upward and toward the northwest. Gord found he could grasp the red-glowing, flame-covered sides of the vehicle without pain or damage from the strange and wondrous fire it was composed of. Gellor saw his wonderment and told the young adventurer, in a shout that carried over the wind of their pa.s.sage, that had not Greenleaf enabled this, Gord would even now be cinders and trailing ash. Then there was no more time for idle talk, for the druid commanded that all keep an eye out for possible attack.

The chariot was traveling at a speed the fastest of falcons would be hard-pressed to match, but magic was magic, and Gord obeyed the instruction to be on guard. He surveyed the land below, its features slowly growing smaller as the vehicle was drawn ever higher by the burning stallions. The Jewel appeared to be a narrow, silvery ribbon only inches wide, while the swamp and trees were merely b.u.mpy colors. Hill and cliff were discernible only by light and shadow patterns, Gord noted. Depths were impossible to judge from a height such as this. He was exhilarated by the whole experience, and had there been no impending threat of attack, he would have thought this whole episode one of the grandest moments of his entire life.

"There!" shouted Patrick, his voice nearly carried away by the howling rush of their pa.s.sage. "Below and to the right a bit!

Something dark wings upward toward us."

Curley Greenleaf peered in the direction the frightened mercenary pointed. Sure enough, there was a great, winged thing coming their way, a creature nearly invisible against the mottled greens of the landscape below. He said between the tearing gusts of wind, "That's the biggest G.o.dsd.a.m.ned greenie I've ever seen, an ancient moss-back. Look! Its wing-spread must be eighty or ninety feet!

It is rising fast, too. , . ."

"Aye," shouted Gellor in reply. "Turn these flaming brutes around, and let's get away from that monstrous blaster! Big and fast as he may be, no dragon alive can keep up with this chariot."

The druid complied, calling in his strange tongue to the burning horses. They obeyed instantly, curving leftward and climbing ever higher but in a direction opposite that of the dragon.

"Wait, see there!" cried Oscar. Ahead was a spiraling flock of winged specks, accompanied by some horselike shapes. Thisgroup was arising from the eastern side of the Jewel River, winging upward and in the same direction the flaming chariot was heading.

They were caught between the largest of dragons and a horde of unknown foes.

Greenleaf urged the steeds again, and they turned so that they tore through the air in a course nearly due west, no longer climbing but moving straight ahead more than a thousand feet above the ground. This left the swarming specks out of the chase, it seemed, but the green dragon had other ideas. Its huge wings bore it up with amazing speed, and it was flying so as to cut the distance between itself and the intended prey, coming upward on a steep, sharp angle. The chariot drew ahead, but the dragon rose higher than the vehicle and kept on climbing. Gord saw that the monster was angling now to be on a beeline behind them.

"The smart old b.a.s.t.a.r.d's going to dive!" screamed Gellor. "Beware!"

Sure enough, the colossus was hundreds of feet above them now. Its wings were angled, its head a streamlined shaft of destruction. It swooped down and ahead, falling as an avalanche toward the chariot and its straining steeds. Worse still, it was now also apparent that some creature, a man in all probability, sat astride the verdigris-hued scales of the great worm.

It was likewise Gellor who detected another terrible fact. "Save your lesser spells!" the bard trumpeted in his best stentorian voice so that all could hear. "I see the glow of a magical sphere surrounding both dragon and rider. If you have nothing else to do now, pray!"

Gord didn't notice what the others were doing, but he had pulled forth his sling and loaded one of his few oblong shots of lead and silver into the pouch. Even as Gellor was crying his warning and advice, the young thief was leaning so as to be able to whirl the thonged bullet faster and faster above his head. The t.i.tanic green dragon was closing, and its rider seemed to be readying some attack of his own, but this did not stop Gord. If he was about to die, then he would certainly go with as furious a resistance as circ.u.mstances allowed. Nevermore would he be one to cringe or despair. With a final effort, Gord spun the sling to blurring speed and released the heavy, enchanted missile. It sped straight and true toward its target. What effect it had Gord did not wait to learn, for he was already setting the second and last of his magic bullets into the sling.

As he cast the second bullet, the grandfather of green dragons was a mere hundred yards away and coming fast. Mouth wide in a hissing scream, huge foretalons outspread, it was evident that it was going to plummet upon the vehicle of flame, fire or no, and physically attack its occupants. The force of the impact, tons of dragon traveling faster than any horse could run, would shatter even so magical a carriage as this. One of the spell-workers threw up a brief, blazing curtain of fire between chariot and dragon, but the monster and its rider plunged through without seeming injury. Then the moment of truth came.

The hurtling body of the scaled monster rushed past the fiery chariot, missing a collision by only a few spans. The wind of its pa.s.sage nearly toppled Gord from the precarious position he had taken up to sling missiles at the enemy. The dragon was far below them in an instant, spreading its great wings and getting ready to come upward again in an arc.

"What happened?" shouted Gord over the roaring of their flight.

"Your last bullet took that fellow full on the head!" Greenleaf called back merrily. "I saw it all as if in slow motion - his helm saved him, but the impact set him reeling, and he must have jerked back on his reins. You've saved us!"

Sure enough, the dragon and its rider were too far behind now to ever catch the flying chariot. Gord silently thanked whatever had guided that second shot and allowed that little tug that sent the dragon just a few feet off target. Gellor gave him a nod of approval, and Incosee slapped him on the back. Ahead were the first signs of the elven community of Enstad, and soon they would be safely on the ground.

As they clambered down and the vehicle and strange steeds sputtered and vanished in a fizzling poof, Deirdre came up to Gord, grasped him by his lean shoulders, and planted a kiss full on his mouth. "I owe you my life," she said to the startled young thief. Then she spun on her heel and strode off to join the others. Gord strolled along, trailing behind his hurrying companions as they made for the torchlit gates of the capital of Celene. All this was a strange business, and he needed a bit of time to ponder events and settle his mind.

Chapter 10.

A handful of yokels were pleading for their lives amid the smoking ruins of their thorp. As much to their own amazement as to that of the members of his company, Obmi signaled that the survivors were to be given quarter. One of the men either didn't see the signal, or else he simply chose to ignore it. Sneering, he thrust his sword into a little girl.

That was a mistake: A heavy hammer suddenly flashed through the air, and it struck the man's head with a sound reminiscent of a ripe melon hitting a stone floor. Shards of skull and bits of brain flew away with the hammer as the headless body flopped and jerked on the trampled, b.l.o.o.d.y earth.

Obmi caught the hammer as it returned to him and looked around at the scattered company. All were busily gathering up their booty, sheathing weapons, mounting up and readying for departure. Without comment or sign, the taciturn dwarf leader of the band slung the gory warhammer around the pommel of his saddle and rode out. His small stallion cantered away, leaving the sacked community on the edge of the Welkwood behind to the south. An uneven stream of other riders hastened after Obmi. There was no order to their march, but the weaker gave the stronger wide berth. Only two others rode near the dwarf.

Although he was hunted from the Crystalmist Mountains to Keoland, Obmi was virtually unknown to the reavers who followed him now. Keak and Gleed were the only ones in the group who were familiar with the jolly-looking, close-mouthed mountain dwarf, having accompanied Obmi for several years now. Keak was a tall, skinny high elf, fratricidal and murderous, adept with both spell and sword. Gleed, an aged-seeming gnome, was likewise a rogue and outlaw able to spin illusion or slit purse with equal skill. The lanky elf rode a gaunt horse, while the wizened gnome sat atop his own mount in a houdalike saddle. Keak was still snickering over the fate of the disobedient brigand and trying to get the squinty-eyed gnome to share his mirth.

"... and did you see his face when the hammer flew near?" Keak paused to cackle with glee at the thought. "It took him full in his sneering mouth, wiping that look away as cleanly as his teeth, face, and head! Heh, heh, heh!"

"Something less permanent might have done as well," was Gleed's only comment in reply. The gnome then spoke sharply to his ugly, jug-headed mount, and the horse responded by increasing its pace to draw alongside the long-maned stallion ridden by the dwarf.

Keak likewise brought his animal to a faster gait, drawing up to ride at Obmi's left. "Most n.o.bly done, Lord Obmi, most n.o.bly!" he said to the ruddy-cheeked leader. "I was just sharing my admiration with the good gnome - but he seems less impressed with our leader's skill and authority than I," he finished, breaking into his usual cackle.

"Bah!" said Gleed. "n.o.body cares what a crazy elf thinks about whether or not some useless man is brained."

Obmi's eyes twinkled as he looked from one to the other of his henchmen. "They need sport," he said, "and they need lessons,too. I give them both. Today there is no doubt who rules this company." As he said the last, Obmi's merry gaze traveled from Keak to Gleed. Both understood the message, for elf and gnome had seen the jolly countenance of the dwarf wreathed in smiles as he wrought the most malign deeds upon foes and disobedient friends alike. Obmi had power, and both of his lieutenants feared him. To provoke Obmi was to invite death.

"Fetch Red Bowman for me, Gleed," the dwarf said. "Keak, you move back too. Ride with your ilk. Make sure they remain steadfast."

Both of Obmi's henchmen muttered acquiescence and turned their mounts. Red Bowman was the leader of the score of humans who rode with the band, the remnants of a company of brigands that had numbered over fifty when they joined the demi-humans.

Although the expedition had taken a heavy toll upon their number, the survivors were wealthy, and there was no grumbling or thought of desertion among them - none apparent, anyway. The wizened gnome shrugged and slowed his steed to a walk so that the others would catch up with him. Keak wheeled his gaunt horse around and rode back to where a half-score of various types of elves and half-elves rode together in a bunch. Near them were a handful of dwarves and gnomes riding ponies.

Keak took a position between the two groups and cackled, "Enough sport for you, lads?"