Saga of the Old City (32 page)

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Authors: Gary Gygax

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BOOK: Saga of the Old City
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“A realm stretching from Relmor Bay to Solnor Ocean, bounded by the Teesar Torrent, titillates the ambitions of His August Supremacy,” said Gellor. “When I send word of all I have learned to Rel Mord, it is a good bet that Castle Blemu shall have royal visitors soon, and thereafter certain fortresses containing the king’s own soldiers shall be constructed at the expense of the count, and their upkeep assisted by the loyal Dunstan!”

“Indeed that is a tale for which I thank you, my friend,” Gord said. “So my dear Evaleigh is to become the Palatine Baroness of Ratik… and dwell amidst the chill and barbarous wilds of that place while I roam freely through the warmer climes and am free to love whoever pleases me!” As that revelation came over him, Gord had to laugh. Gellor joined in with fellow feeling.

“Yes, indeed!” Gellor said brightly. “And her visits south to her father’s country shall be from a sovereign state to a part of the Kingdom of Nyrond-not a jaunt through a new realm composed of Ratik, Bone March, and Blemu’s fair hills and dells!”

“Where now?” asked Gord, his mood considerably brighter than it had been a couple of minutes ago.

“To the Gnomeking of these hills, and then what say you to a visit to Rel Mord? From there, who knows… perhaps south to Almor or back to the Bandit Kingdoms.”

“I have never traveled to Nyrond’s great capital,” Gord replied with enthusiasm. “It sounds like a good place to see-and then, I’m ready for any new place in this broad land!”

As they made camp for the night, Gord spoke to his friend. “You are older and wiser than I, Gellor. Tell me how Evaleigh could put aside love such as we shared for a liaison to a petty northern barony, albeit an independent realm.”

“Gord, my young friend, you are not being either realistic or fair. Would you have loved your little part-elven lass half so much had she been not so fair of face and form?” Gord was allowed a moment to ponder that, and then Gellor expanded upon the thought. “Did you pledge her true and faithful love forever? Or was it ardor and amour? What bright future did you paint? How would your children have been cared for?”

“Children? Future? What talk is that?” responded Gord. “We had passion and adventure, romance and excitement.”

“That is the stuff of dalliance and brief affairs, my lad, not a basis for an enduring relationship! Think on it: Evaleigh is young and beautiful, but female. She, as do all of her sex, seeks security, stability, sons and daughters. You, as a male, desire to spread your offspring far and wide, the more the merrier. Thus you gain a measure of immortality, for some will be certain to survive and carry on your line.

“In contrast, Evaleigh is aware that her own heritage must be limited to those children she herself bears. They must be cared for, nourished in mind and body, so that they thrive and grow to adulthood. That is how women gain their continuance, and it is quite the opposite of males!”

“But-”

“But me no buts, Gord. Your sweet Evaleigh did no more than any maid would do under like circumstances. She did no wrong by acquiescing to wedlock with one of like station and the comfort of being sovereign Baroness of Ratik. You would never lead such a life as will her devoted husband, and that is the sort of life she knows and desires. Had she gone off with you it would have been argument and unhappiness. You seek adventure, she the opposite. Eventually, you would have gone off and never returned, and then where would Evaleigh and your children have turned?”

“Children again? Why always that subject? None might have come.”

“And what if your bastard will one day rule Ratik?” Gellor shot back, but then softened his voice and continued. “Come now, Gord, enough of this banter. Let’s examine the bribes given us by the deceitful Count Blemu whilst I still have this cursed ocular in place!”

“What means ocular?” queried Gord.

“This globe here,” said Gellor, suppressing a smile as he tapped his left eyeball with his forefinger.

Gord recoiled at the sight of the nailed digit rapping against tender eye, but as there was no apparent pain or flinch on Gellor’s part, Gord’s reaction abruptly turned to bewilderment.

“You tap your pupil and feel nothing?” said the young thief quizzically.

“Of course not! It is a magical sphere, enchanted to appear to be nothing more than my own eye, but it is far different and quite difficult to get used to-or to wear for long periods, as it boggles my brain.”

Scrutiny revealed nothing magical to Gord, merely a clear gray eye. “You jest. Give me the truth, Gellor!”

“No jest at all,” said Gellor, and with that he reached up and popped the orb out of its socket. A wave of nausea washed over Gord as he watched the process and saw the eye now in Gellor’s palm.

“Now I must put it back,” continued Gellor, “so we can see our gifts in true sight. But at least your nagging doubts are silenced,” he added. And Gord had to admit that that was true.

After peering closely at his and Gord’s neck-chains, Gellor remarked that they were of good craftsmanship, with nothing noteworthy save that the gemstones set in his own were not of the highest quality-Count Blemu had not given as great a bribe as it first seemed.

Their gift blades were then laid out for inspection through the strange and enchanted ocular. Gord watched in fascination as Gellor went through his routine of perusal, first looking from a distance, then at each weapon separately. He informed his young friend that there were strange runes graven on the blade of the shortsword, and then after his minute inspection was over Gellor put both blades aside and in a moment was the Gellor of old, eye patch and grin included, relaxing and further explaining what he had discovered.

“Well, Gord,” he began, “I am surprised at these swords. Magicked weapons are not exactly uncommon, but…” He allowed the rest of this statement to drift off as he considered possible implications. He picked up the scabbard containing the weapon Gord had been given and asked, “Did the constable tell you anything about your blade?”

“He claimed it to be a specially forged alloy of steel and adamantite, difficult to break or dull, which would pierce dragon hide or armor. I think that was the whole of it.”

“It is that indeed,” Gellor confirmed. “Enchantments have been laid upon it to cause it to strike true and bite deep. It seems to have been made for elvenkind and sheds no glow of dweomer when employed, though the glyphs state that you may have its power to see your foes clearly,” and with that Gellor tossed the scabbarded weapon to Gord.

“Perhaps you’ll be able to determine what those signs and sigils portend when the sunlight is bright enough for you to detect them,” he continued. “I could not make them out exactly, and the powers of the blade are unknown to me. I am puzzled where the count got it-and why he bestowed it upon you, for it seems to be a very special weapon.”

“Probably he failed to recognize it as anything more than a small sword with some minor magics placed upon it,” speculated Gord.

“He and his court enchanter both? That is possible, I suppose… and it is well known that Dunstan himself greatly prefers the broadsword.”

Gord snapped his fingers as his memory sharpened. “Sir Mellard mentioned that the blade was taken from some adversary in the fighting on the northern border,” he told Gellor.

“Interesting, but it tells us nothing but that some mercenary, bandit, or humanoid scum picked it from a corpse elsewhere,” Gellor commented.

“What of the sword given you, Gellor?” inquired Gord as he put aside his weapon for further study next day.

“In a bit,” said Gellor through a yawn. “Using that eye for such intense work wearies me. Stand the first watch, captain, while your general dozes.” Several minutes later, after Gellor had settled himself for rest, he spoke again briefly.

“My weapon is another odd one, my friend, and I am uncertain as to the details of its power and purpose, just as I know not all about the one you have there. One thing I discern is that it claims to be invisible, when used, to all save its wielder… but let us discover the truth of that claim on the morrow,” he concluded sleepily. Almost immediately thereafter, Gellor began snoring. Gord strapped on his new sword, more from pride than the suspicion that he would need it, and began his sentry duty.

They had made no fire, as they sought to attract no attention to themselves. Gord moved silently away from the small hollow and began his vigil, occasionally moving his position, for drowsiness crept upon him if he stayed still too long, and always remaining quiet and shadow-wrapped.

Perhaps he did doze for a moment-for the next thing he knew, his sword slapped into his hand, unbidden! Gord’s eyes flew open and met the unwinking gaze of a pair of feral yellow ones watching him from not thirty feet distant.

Oddly, the night seemed to have changed, for Gord could see the terrain in starker relief than he had ever experienced before. In fact, Gord noted that the lupine form from which the yellow glare emanated was brighter than the bush under which it crouched, watching him. It suddenly came upon Gord that his vision now detected heat just as if it were light. That was the seeing of many sorts of demi-humans, and he now had this ability! The sword he grasped in readiness was the answer, of course.

The wolflike creature began to creep ahead almost imperceptibly, and at this Gord quickly drew his long dagger with his left hand. The young man’s rapid unsheathing of that weapon and his tense crouch caused the watcher to flatten its partially raised form and shift itself backward. There was virtually no sound, and the beast seemed to believe itself hidden from Gord’s sight. As it was, Gord could see what happened next even though the tall grass and brush obscured much of his new visual ability.

After withdrawing to a position behind the bush, the creature stood on its hind legs-and its form shifted, rapidly changing into that of a female, with short hair, unclad as far as Gord could tell from where he crouched. Just as Gord was about to slip forward and investigate this weird phenomenon, the female-like creature broke into a soft, lilting song. The low, sweet strains of this melody stole over Gord and prevented his moving.

No, not prevented, he thought, analyzing his changed purpose; the song simply made him wish to stay still so he could listen without anything interfering with his concentration. It was a most wonderful air. He could not quite understand its words, but they promised gentle love and contentment. If he could listen but a little longer, Gord knew that he would understand the lyrics and gain something he had truly desired all his life.

The singing grew no louder, but the naked singer came slowly toward him, moving silently, smiling, and now crooning to him with a voice that promised paradise. This approach caused the sword he had allowed to droop to suddenly rise without any desire on Gord’s part. The blade leapt upward, tip pointing toward the naked breast advancing upon it, the handle sending unpleasant burning through Gord’s hand and along the very nerves of his arm. He tried to drop the weapon, but instead of relaxing their hold, his disobedient fingers grasped it tighter, and the tingling became a sharp pain.

Gord shook his head to clear the sudden onrush of the sensation upon his brain, and as he did so, the sound of the singing changed. He no longer felt lulled by it, his body was not relaxed and heavy, and his mind no longer found unguessed meanings and total joy in the melody. Gord again moved into a crouch, weapon on guard before him.

The naked singer ceased the melody at this, seeing that it was not having the desired effect. She was just beyond the reach of his sword’s thrust, and Gord could see her visage clearly. It was wild-looking and beautiful, but as he looked upon it, her lips drew back into a grimace of hatred and ferocity, and small, sharp teeth were revealed by this snarl. She sprang at Gord, changing into lupine form even as her body launched itself toward him. The sword’s blade was suddenly limned with a faint silvery gleam, and Gord caught the leaping form upon the weapon’s point, using it to both wound and deflect the rush of the attacker. The creature, now a huge wolf, howled with terrible pain, rolled several times after striking the ground beside Gord, and then dashed away uttering mournful yowls.

Gellor was next to him within seconds after this last had happened, his own longsword unsheathed, but the naked steel was unnecessary. The wolfwere, as Gellor called it, was certainly not likely to return this night. Nevertheless, the older man took guard duty thereafter, his magicked ocular back in place, while Gord slept an uneasy sleep.

 

Chapter 24

 

The stone halls and burrows of the Gnomeking’s domain gave Gord a touch of claustrophobia-but not because they were barely tall enough for him to walk through; indeed, some of the chambers were quite large. Rather, the surrounding rock reminded him too much of his former prison in Blemu’s deep dungeon, and also of his flight with Evaleigh through the warren of passages beneath the palace at Stoink.

The little, gnarly demi-humans were friendly enough, and even kind to him. The Gnomeking, Warren apHiller, gave the two humans not only an audience, but a banquet. It was obvious that he knew Gellor from times past, and the king and the one-eyed man soon closeted themselves, covering in private (as Gellor later told Gord) the affairs that were to be relayed to Rel Mord.

Despite the friendliness of the gnomes, Gord was pleased when his friend told him that they would stay no longer than the three days that courtesy demanded, and thereafter they would move on. The grottoes and giant badgers of the gnome kingdom were interesting but for a short time. Even more intriguing to Gord were the gems displayed by these folk, but as a guest he could not ply his professional skills to acquire any of the valuables. Yes, three days was quite enough time to spend with the gnomes.

Instead of heading westward toward Rel Mord when they departed, Gellor said they must go south to the area of Innspa first. Rel Mord could wait, for according to the Gnomeking there was something brewing in the vast reaches of the Adri Forest that needed looking into. The prospect of action excited Gord, and he cheerfully agreed to accompany his friend on this mission, volunteering to do whatever he could to aid Gellor.

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