Greyhawk adventures - Artifact of Evil Part 7

"The facts are as given, and divination has revealed that if you speed due east the foe will be met," the high priest rea.s.sured him.

The elven warrior-mage shrugged. "Then we four bear a heavy burden - but bear it we must. We will leave immediately, for all is in readiness."

"The stars guide you and the heavens watch over you," Venerable Halomew said in benediction. Then, smiling and clasping the gray elfs hand, he said, ''Melf... good luck! Before you go, there is a question I must ask."

Melf was puzzled, but he liked the old cleric, and nodded m him. "You may ask."

"Why do you use this name Melf? Prince Brightflame..."

"Cease!" Melf commanded without regard for Halomew's station. "It is recorded that I gave up all t.i.tles and claims, so name not these bygone things to me. As for Melf, it is a simple name, as good as any." Then he unbent a little and admitted, "This art of dweomercrafting is a perilous one, good cleric, and one must protect one's true name as carefully as a miser h.o.a.rds his treasured gold."

"My blessings upon you and the others, then . . . Melf," said the priest, and he took his leave of the elven fighter-mage as they reached the stables.

Four armored riders cantered eastward on swift destriers. In the lead was the gray elf fighter and spell-caster, Melf. Next to him rode his friend and henchman, Biff. This halfling certainly had another name also, but as a swordsman and thief, one of his sort wished to avoid notoriety, to say the least. Behind these small figures came a pair of large men. The larger by far was Chert, a barbarian axeman wearing chainmail shirt and a plain helmet. Leather leggings and heavy boots protected his legs, but he disdained a shield. Beside him rodea hard-eyed crossbowman who called himself Lizard. This worthy was clad in scale mail, which did lend a semblance of reptilian nature to him. Tall and lean-muscled, Lizard prided himself in his accuracy with his chosen weapon, the arbalest.

"There is a fire under the elfs saddle," Lizard commented as he and Chert moved their steeds from canter to gallop following Melfs lead.

"Aye," agreed Chert, laughing. "When I signed on for this expedition, I thought to escape the dull routine of soldiering in Veluna. Now we might as well be warding some caravan!"

"Better the merchant train than this," the leathery-skinned crossbowman called back. "Caravans move at a more dignified pace, offer comfortable ease at night, and often have comely la.s.ses amidst their baggage!" Further conversation was withheld, for they needed their attention and wind for the journey.

"There is the Velverdyva!" Melf shouted as he reined in his sweating steed. They had ridden hard for two days to arrive at this place on the great river that formed the boundary between Veluna and the Kingdom of Furyondy. There was a collection of buildings near the pier that marked the ferry here. "We will spend the night at Shanscross and take the first ferry tomorrow," said the leader.

All were pleased to find a small but well-kept inn in the thorp. Lizard, Biff, and Chert retired immediately after supping, but Melf stayed late in the common room, sipping wine and listening to the crackle of the fire and the idle chatter of barman and a pair of local patrons.

"Bring me a cold meat pie, Okelard cheese of the smoked sort, fruit, and your best wine!" a whining voice demanded.

This woke Melf from his doze, and he turned to see what the commotion was about. He noted that the order had come from a tall, skinny elf. As he looked, the lanky fellow returned his gaze with a smiling face but cold, cold eyes. The barman hurried to comply, going into the kitchen to fetch the viands, while a young wench, probably his daughter, drew a beaker of wine from a large cask behind the counter. The girl was well-formed, and the mop of auburn ringlets that framed her delicate face was most fetching.

"Draw two goblets extra, my pretty!" the thin elf called to her as she finished filling the container he had ordered. "One for me, one for you," he said with a rising cackle. "Then you can help me Carry the lot upstairs," he concluded with a suggestive giggle.

The wench flushed and shook her curls. "My father does not permit me to drink with patrons," she said with a tone of disgust that could be taken as discontent with either the for-biddance or the offer. The expression on her pretty face, however, left little doubt as to the cause of her revulsion.

"Eh? We'll see about that, my saucy little trollop. Barman! Come here at once!" Although the fellow was still laughing as he called, there was cruelty and threat in the cackling.

Melf arose from his chair and strode to a place near the unsavory elf. "Allow me to buy those two flagons you mentioned, sir elf, and to introduce myself to a fellow demi-human. I am Melf of the Arrow. And you, sir?"

The skinny elf stared unblinkingly at Melf, a.s.sessing him carefully. It was evident that he cared for neither the intrusion nor the offer of wine. But Melfs steel-clad form and the easy bearing he maintained under the scrutiny disconcerted the other elf, and he cackled to break the tension he felt within. "Yes, of course," he said. "I am Keak, and I will accept offer of a drink."

"Keak, then. A native of these parts?"

"Nay, a stranger like yourself - merely pa.s.sing through," the odd elf giggled in reply.

"Crossing the Velverdyva?"

"No, my comrade and I are taking . . . goods . . . from his home in the Kron Hills to my own. Do you know Highfolk?" Keak's laughter rang with a happy yet mocking note as he asked Melf the question. "It is a lovely, lovely place, you know."

Melf could not help concluding that this elf was imbalanced. From a half-wit, such constant giggling and laughing could be expected, but Keak was certainly in possession of all normal faculties - except that they were awry. "I have been there once or twice, both town and valley," Melf responded. "Is your companion elvish too?"

"Ahahahh, ha, ha, heehee! That squatty little fellow elvish? Never! Some call us an odd pair, traveling alone together as we always do - my friend is most interested in rocks and soils, while I collect b.u.t.terflies and other insects - but it works out well enough,"

said Keak with a rollicking giggle and a wild eye.

Any further conversation was cut off by the arrival of the innkeeper's daughter with a great tray of food. Without comment she placed it firmly down upon the counter and looked expectantly at the skinny elf. Keak t.i.ttered, shrugged, plunked down a few coins, and turned again to Melf.

"My companion will be rooting about in his haversack for interesting rocks, so if you'd care to join us in a midnight repast, Melf of the Arrow, you are welcome. Heh, heh, ha, tee hee! Elvish talk would please me much."

Feigning regret he certainly did not feel, Melf declined. "The invitation is most kind, but the hour is late. On the morrow I must hasten east. Good night and safe journey to you, Keak."

"Farewell then yourself, and may your pa.s.sage carry you speedily to the lands beyond the broad Velverdyva!"

As Melf turned to pay his reckoning, the curly-headed girl smiled warmly at him. "My thanks, sir, for intervening. That one isn't right, you know, and I was afraid. Were it not for a bold and decent person such as yourself, I fear he might have made a lot of trouble, and who's there here to resist such a one?"

"No matter now," Melf replied casually, "for he has gone abed, and you may likewise retire behind a locked door, safe and sound."

"Oh, that's just it, sir! I sleep alone in the loft just at the end of the hall above, and I believe that maniac will creep into my bed when it is quiet. Locks wouldn't prevent his type from entering, you know," the girl concluded in conspiratorial tones. As she leaned close to whisper thus, a good part of her bosom was displayed to Melf's view.

"Delightful . . ." he mumbled.

"What was that, sir?"

"Frightful, I said. Frightful indeed!" Melf said quickly. "But perhaps I could . . ."

"Thank you, sir ... may I call you Sir Melf? I overheard you tell the other your name," she added apologetically. "And my name is Silyoni."

"Silyoni? Yes, a pretty name for a beautiful girl. It is Melf, Silyoni, without the honorific. Just Melf. . . ."

With Keak and his lunatic presence forgotten, Melf sipped wine and chatted with the young country girl until the last patrons left and the place closed for the night. He and Silyoni walked hand in hand up the stairs, then, and he guarded her until dawn. There were no undesired intrusions, and no one came unannounced. When morning came, the girl p.r.o.nounced him both a hero and an upright protector.Unfortunately, he fell asleep just about then, and it was near forenoon when Melf finally arrived downstairs to greet his companions where they sat waiting, their morning meal long finished. As he came down, Silyoni gave him a smile and a wink, then bustled away to serve a trio of traders demanding an early dinner.

"You look worn," said Lizard with a concerned voice.

"The girl yonder looks chipper enough," Biff the halfling said, staring innocently at the ceiling. "She must be a witch who used energy transference to sap our leader's strength in fashion vampiric!"

All three burst out in gales of laughter as Melf turned crimson at the jest. Although he was old by human standards, to be celebrating his 165th birthday soon, this was still young by elven standards. Simply put, Melf was shy and not a little awkward and prudish about certain things.

"Enough of that!" said Melf, breaking the mood. "Biff, see to the payment for our stay. Chert, you and Lizard get our coursers ready - and make certain that they have clean hooves and that there is grain in the saddlebags."

Still grinning, they three went to carry out their leader's orders. Melf broke his fast with some gruel of groat cl.u.s.ters, crisp herbs, and oatcakes and b.u.mblebee honey, washed down with a mug of blackberry tea. He gulped his food, hardly tasting it, blaming himself for making them late. How could he tarry so when the fate of mankind and elves might hang on his actions! Silyoni tried to be pleasant, but Melf was too worried to notice.

"Ah, Sir Melf, will you be returning again soon?"

"Fate knows, not I!" he snapped. "What of Keak?"

"That wretched stick? Why do I care if he ever returns?" the girl replied crossly.

"When did he and his dwarven companion leave?" demanded Melf.

Silyoni slammed his mug of tea down. "They left an hour after dawn, the evil bandy grinning, and Keak with his awful giggling - he even pinched me on the bottom as he left, not that you'd care!" With that the girl flounced off. Melf didn't notice, for he was thinking hard about the strange elf. Something he couldn't quite identify was gnawing at the back of his consciousness. "d.a.m.n!" he said aloud, but there was n.o.body close enough to notice. Silyoni was nowhere to be seen, so he slipped a gleaming lucky under his tea mug, knowing that the la.s.s would find it there when she cleared the table. Tightening his sword belt, he walked outside to where his fellows waited with the horses.

Despite the late start, they continued to make good time. The weather was fair, and Furyondy kept its roads in excellent repair. They camped under a starry sky that night, and the next as well. Arriving at the town of Littleberg late the next night, they took shelter in a tavern. The fine weather had turned rainy, and the horses were worn. Much to the surprise of all, a priest of Celestian found them there the next morning and gave them further news. Their quarry was reported to be traveling northward not more than a day's distance from the broad ford of the Alt River. As this was only a few hours' ride upstream, Melf decided that they should risk rain and high water in order to pursue hotly the vile crew they sought. This was exactly what the high priest desired, and to a.s.sist their journey, he had extra steeds and fresh supplies ready. They left Littleberg behind, obscured in sheets of blowing drizzle, and made the broad ford by high noon.

By riding hard, switching mounts, and sleeping seldom, the four managed to eat up the leagues with great rapidity. Before long they had come to where the rutted track leading north toward the dark realm of the Hierarchs split away from the highroad northeast to Willip Town on the sh.o.r.es of the Nyr Dyv. This portion of the kingdom was far wilder and more lawless than that region where trade between Furyondy and the west flourished. Far above lay the sole crossing place of the Veng River - the Panggate, as it was called.

Unscrupulous merchants and evil traders used this place to bring their wares to the lands of the Horned Ones, the domain of Molag. The four must travel this way too, looking for the marauders.

Rain continued for the next two days. Unlike the showers they had experienced when departing Littleberg, this precipitation came in torrential bursts, making all miserable and the track a quagmire. Nevertheless they pressed onward, soaking, muddy, and exhausted. Finally the clouds broke into ragged tatters and a pale sun shone through.

"This is better," Biff observed, basking in the warmth of the sunlight, "but how much longer do we go on? Aside from wild creatures, we have seen nothing living since we took this accursed path!"

Melf smiled at the lazy little thief, for he knew full well how Biff preferred to spend his time. "Excellent, isn't it? No sightings means that we are undoubtedly ahead of those we seek. The foul conditions we have experienced will certainly have affected their train worse than it did us. When we come to a likely spot, we will establish an ambuscade and fall upon them when they come up!"

"Four ambush more than a score?" Chert said with incredulity.

Lizard laughed. "But think of how puissant a quartet we are!"

Biff looked nervous, and both mercenaries laughed at his expression. They had seen him practice his craft, including sword play and dagger throwing. Chert and Lizard knew that the halfling, despite his size and appearance, was a foe to be reckoned with.

"Less chatter, there," Melf said sourly. "We must be positive and decisive."

"I am positively ready for close combat," Chert exclaimed with a bellow that rang with a.s.surance. "Cold steel is preferable to saddle sores and horse dung!"

Melf turned haughtily and rode away, leaving his companions to follow. "He doesn't always take such j.a.pes well," Biff told the others in a confidential tone. "But he is the most loyal and capable master a poor halfling such as I could ask." The sincerity of the statement was sufficient to stiffen both men, and they whistled and joked as they rode for the next few days, despite the hardships of the inhospitable countryside.

Chapter 13.

"There is the Veng at last!" exclaimed Biff.

"And the Boulderford, which leads to Molag," added Lizard.

"We are ahead of those we seek, for n.o.body has come this way for days," Chert said as he studied the track.

"What twinkles so there, across the river?" asked Melf as he peered at the bluffs on the far side of the waterway that marked the beginning of the Horned Society, the lands of the dreaded Hierarchs and their unwholesome subjects. "Quick! Our horses to the hollow there," he commanded, pointing to a small dell to the left. "Stay with them while I scout ahead."

The others made no comment or objection, for they knew that the elven swordsman was also a spell-worker of considerable power. Melf had demonstrated his ability to become invisible and travel through the air like an arrow, and this is what he would certainlydo now. The glittering on the far bank of the Veng was a body of troops, and an unseen, flying scout was a safe and sure way to determine who these soldiers were. Melf disappeared from view, moving toward the river. Chert, Biff, and Lizard waited patiently, soothing the eight horses to make sure the animals made no betraying sounds.

In only a few minutes Melf was back. "Be lively now!" he cried to his comrades. "Get the horses into that stand of scrub as quickly as you can, and hide yourselves too!"

"Does the enemy approach?" queried Lizard as he pulled a trio of mounts toward the thicket of box elders and tall shrubs.

"Nay, but they have an advance of great ravens which will most certainly overfly this very place soon, and I want no trace of us seen by such creatures," replied Melf as he urged his horses into the concealing foliage.

Biff appeared beside them suddenly, making the horses jerk back in fright. "Who sends such spies as carrion crows, Lord Melf?"

"Blast you and your creeping around in the bushes!" the elf replied hotly as he fought to quiet his courser. "Cease such foolery henceforth!"

"No creeping is needed," Biff said indignantly. "As halfling and thief, I move as naturally in such stuff as this as that giant yokel strides over hills and dingles." He grinned at Chert as he spoke this last, causing the barbarian to glower back with a look that promised terrible retribution if he ever grasped the small demi-human in his huge hands.

"The small one's query is apt," Lizard interjected laconically. "At whose behest come the ravens?"

Melf agreed, and as the four hid themselves amid the greenery, he related what he had seen.

"After becoming invisible," he began, "I winged upward to gain a bird's-eye view of the terrain on the northern verge of the valley. Flying across the Veng, then, I noted a large force of soldiers. Their advance is a body of the most benighted humans I have seen in many years - mercenary brigands, unless I miss my mark. Behind comes a battalion of hobgoblins led by a grim-garbed and horn-helmed rider attended by several underclerics. The chief is certainly one of the Hierarchs.

"This great troop was in the process of encamping, and as their scouts returned to the camp, a large flock of ravens, huge ones too, was loosed. I knew full well that my presence would be detected by the leader if I came closer, and when the birds were sent forth it was time for me to take my leave, for those malign croakers of evil might well sense my whereabouts also."

"Are we safe here?" asked Biff uneasily. "Probably, for the light evens toward dusk as we speak," the elf replied. "Still, as soon as possible we will return along our route a mile or two. Such distance will give us the security we need. It seems that the force is placed so as to await the arrival of someone, but perhaps they intend to cross the river and invade. We will keep sharp lookout tonight."

Chert was dissatisfied. "What of the caravan of bandits we lie in wait for? This regiment of troops surely spoils our plans."

"As long as they remain on the far side of the Veng, I intend to go ahead with the ambush," Melf said with determination. "We will hit these reavers, slay them, and gain our prize before the Hierarch and his foul servitors can react."

"What then?" Lizard asked slowly.

"We ride as if pursued by night fiends!" was the elfs answer.

Chuckling at this candor, all four settled down to await full darkness. When the sky showed an array of twinkling stars, they led their steeds back toward the south, avoiding the trail. After camping in a sheltered ravine, they determined sentry duty and settled down for an uneasy sleep. In the morning Biff related an encounter with a giant owl who spoke to him of the force on the opposite sh.o.r.e. The owl had come because of the ravens, and it was moving as far from the area as it could because of these ebon-feathered marauders. The owl stated that it thought the encampment looked permanent, because the hobgoblins had been cleaning out the limestone caves along the bluff during hours of darkness.

"That confirms my thinking," Melf told the others. "So we set our trap as planned."

The track leading to Boulderford ran across the relatively open prairie, wound through the low hills, and then dropped into the Veng River valley where the forces of nature had created a natural ramp along the steep bluffs that marked the basin of the watercourse.

Some three miles from these bluffs, at a place where the worn trail bent sharply right, they placed themselves in wait. On the left of the road, near the turn, Melf readied his magic as the huge barbarian honed his enchanted battle-axe, Brool. The barbarian hummed softly to the weapon, feeling most comfortable in the rocky little hummocks where they concealed themselves. Across the way Biff and Lizard waited. The halfling had his sling ready, and beside him rested a dozen leaden bullets, each missile engraved with strange runes and carrying a special dweomer of deadly sort. He and Lizard had arranged a contest between themselves, for the crossbowman likewise had stubby quarrels painted with mystic sigils and enchanted to fell purposes. The one who slew fewer of the enemy with his missiles must give over to the other a t.i.the of his battlefield loot.

"What if the dust that cloud-b.u.mping clod detected marks some procession other than that we seek?" Biff asked.

"Unless our leader says otherwise, we strike," Lizard said as he rearranged his bolts once again. "No weal comes from any who would have intercourse with the Hierarchs in any case, so we will discommode no one of good by such action. Do you think Melf will allow these folk to pa.s.s unmolested if they appear to be ordinary riffraff come to trade with the Horned sc.u.m?"

"Most probably," the halfling mused. "He is bent only on laying low the raiders who pillaged Celene and then crossed the Kron Hills on their trek northward. We pursued them long ere we encountered you and Chert, you know, and that band is my master's only target. He will withhold his spells if the caravan is not the enemy he seeks."

Lizard shook his head sadly. "Too bad. Whoever comes is sure to be laden with valuables."

Laughing softly at the mercenary's regretful response, Biff too began realigning and readying his bullets and weapons. An hour later the first outriders of the approaching caravan came into view. There were about a dozen men, lightly armored, riding swift steeds.

They approached in an open formation, fanned out so as to observe all the ground ahead and to both sides of the track. The horses had been hidden well, however, and the advance guards failed to detect the presence of the four hidden adventurers lying in wait amid the rocks and shrubs a hundred paces from the route. At the sharp bend, one of the advance guards rode back to the main body while the others continued slowly toward the river.

The main body came about a half-mile behind the advance. It consisted of several carts with huge wheels. These vehicles, as well as the score of mules that followed them, were laden with goods. About a dozen teamsters and animal handlers were with diem. A like number of armed raiders flanked the caravan. Before this procession was a huge, houda-equipped horse and three warhorses ridden by steel-encased warriors. Behind came a straggle of footmen herding a line of bearers. The latter appeared to be females, evidently taken for sale into slavery in the lands of the Horned Society of the Hierarchs. This could only be the band that Melf sought.

"There!" Biff called softly to his companion. "See the jaundiced vapors which have sprung up and roll toward the track?

Master Melf casts his dweomer even now!"Lizard peered at the growing ma.s.s of foglike vapor that was spreading outward and downward toward the approaching train.

"They see the stuff," he replied excitedly to the halfling.