Villains by Necessity (61 page)

"I was paid. Ask him," he answered, jerking a thumb in Blackmail's direction. Blackmail just stood still and silent.

Robin dropped his head. "Mizzamir told me you were all evil..."

"That's right," said Valerie. "Except for Kaylana, of course."

"Druids dinna count," put in Arcie.

"No," agreed Kaylana. "That does seem to be the case, at times." 

"And yet you let them save me..." argued Robin.

"Here, would you wish to be crossin' Blackmail and that great muckle sword of his?" asked Arcie, raising an eyebrow.

"And you work together..."

"Better than dying," commented Sam.

"And you haven't been fighting or stabbing each other in the back or even abandoning each other anymore!" exclaimed the minstrel. "I don't understand it! Why? Why are you acting this way? You aren't acting like evil people!"

"Oh pshaw, the whole good/evil lot again," grumbled the Barigan scornfully.

"Look," began Sam, but Valerie broke smoothly over him.

"Centaur, an evil person can do all the things a good person can do and still be what they are. The only difference is motive."

"And a good person can do some incredibly evil things, with the right motive," added Kaylana softly.

"For instance, is it evil to kill sentient beings?"

"Umn, yes?" hazarded Robin.

"But Fenwick and his men are good, and they want to kill us. That doesn't make them evil."

"And we destroyed those skeletons," put in Valerie, "which were creatures of darkness ... but that doesn't make us good."

"This fool Sam went an' killed a rapist off in Martogon," said Arcie, as he took out his pipe. "What do that make him? Hero, for saving the lassie, or villain, for killing the man?"

"Yes," added Sam. "And Arcie risked his hide to steal healing for us... is he evil, then, for stealing and hurting all those barbarians, or good, because he helped us?"

"We are evil because we help each other for selfish motives," admitted Valerie. "We have realized that without all of our help, without working together, our quest will die, and we and the world with it."

"If it were anything smaller, less important, this group would not last five minutes," said Kaylana solemnly.

"An ordinary 'adventure' would have us cutting each other's throats over who got all the treasure ... but when this much is at stake, the choice is work together or die ... and we are far too self-centered to want to die."

"There's more to people than some definded label," said Arcie. "There are more than straight good and evil, aye, even more than law or disorders or fence-sittin'.

There's prejudice, whimsey, affection, superstition, habit, upbringing, alliance, pride, society, morals, animosity, preference, values, religion, circumstance, humor, perversity, honor, vengeance, jealousy, frustration ... hundreds o' factors, from the past and in every present moment, as decides what some one person"!! do in an individious situation."

"You have a good vocabulary for a shire-peasant, Barigan," Valerie commented. Arcie squirmed slightly.

"Och, well, you picks up things in the trade and like that..." he muttered.

"Sometimes there's other reasons for helping, other than personal gain or benefit," added Sam softly.

"Friendship, companionship, trust and love are not confined to light alone ... they are harder won, fewer seen ... but no less real." His eyes were looking wistfully at Kaylana as he spoke, but no one noticed. Robin raised his blindfolded head.

"You really believe the world will be destroyed if your quest fails?" he asked. There were general sounds of agreement, ranging from Kaylana's "definitely" to Arcie's

"Aye, why not?"

Robin thought for a long moment, his ears twitching, then he appeared to reach a decision.

"Then I have a motive to join you, a selfish motive. I don't want to die, and I don't want the world to be destroyed either. And you have saved my life. I owe you, Blackmail in particular, my life. By my culture and society, I owe you a life-debt. What you seek to do may be

dark, but the alternative is far worse, and the motive, surprisingly, is right. It may be good, it may be evil, I can't say, but it is right. I will help you to the ends of my strength."

He pulled the defunct silver bracelet off his wrist and threw it into the chasm. It made a sound like the breaking of a chain.

"He speaks the truth," Kaylana said, quietly- The Druid took Robin's hand and led him along the edge, and they walked on through the mountains. Sam looked up at Blackmail, and the knight nodded slightly.

"Tasmene, I trust you as my own brother, but I know these villains. If ever there was an escape from death at the other end of that chute, they'll have found it." Fenwick bent over his arrows, fletching them in green and yellow feathers.

Tasmene blinked in bewilderment. "But where can they go?" he inquired. "There's nothing on that side of the mountains but... well, more mountains."

"It doesn't matter," stated Fenwick. "I've chased them across half of the Six Lands already, and I'm not going to give up now. I want them brought to justice, and the centaur and Druid saved from their clutches. And I do hope, Lord Tasmene, that you won't give up on me."

"No, of course not, Fenwick ... but, really ... what harm can they do?"

Fenwick looked up, his eyes cold.

"All the harm in the world, my friend. All the harm in the world."

The woodsman looked out at the dim shadows of the mountains. "We shall have to move quickly; we don't know where they've come out. Send your men through the north pass, Tasmene, and my company shall move in from the south." %%%In a makeshift scrying mirror, borrowed from the store of the Castle's magical treasures, Arch-Mage Mizzamir looked thoughtful as he listened to the conversation between the two heroes. It would take some time to complete the enchantments on his new scrying font; the loss of both water and enchanted gems had caused difficulties. He dismissed the image, and stared into his dusty reflection thoughtfully.

"Well, perhaps I had better attempt to see how my agent is doing," he mused, and concentrated on the bracelet he had given the young centaur. The magic of Druid and Nathauan had thwarted many of his attempts to espy the location of the bracelet, but it was not so now.

He saw it quite clearly, lying broken on the bottom of a gorge, its stones missing. The sight caused the mage to raise one fine silver eyebrow in surprise.

"Hmm, it seems the young fellow has turncoated... or been found out and slain. Well, if it is the first, then I shall use my magic to bring him back to the light with the others ... and if it is the last... Well, revenge is a nasty thing. I'll just do my best to find his body and restore him."

He tapped the glass of the mirror in thought, then turned away. He walked away from it and looked out the newly repaired window.

"But first things first," he said to himself. "They are obviously not delving into Putak-Azum any longer, so the other alternative, as we presumed before ... Somewhere, the last Segment of the Key ... and then, to the Labyrinth? With the Key assembled, it is easily possible ... even the Nathauan would likely know that. The Labyrinth's magic, my magic and that of others, would prevent me from journeying there by magical means while it is still unriddled... But should those villains solve it, the magic will weaken, and I will meet them at its center. And should they fail..." He sighed sadly.

"A tragedy, but as I have said, the problem would be solved." He turned and strode from the room in a swirl of silver-white hair and robes, sending the dustmotes swirling past him like a host of fairies. %%%They tumbled down the last of the scree slopes of the Durdrudin Mountains and found themselves standing on low hills at the edge of what was known as the Frozen Waste. It was cool, but not cold, yet the ground seemed to be rimmed "with frost. Arcie kicked at it, puzzled, then scooped some up in his hand. It was dry and not frozen.

"Salts," explained Valerie, noting his confused expression.

"Leached out of the ground from the blood of a thousand fiends, some say."

"So it's not really frozen?" asked Robin, yawning. He was brushing at his singed tail with a comb, trying to get the mud and char out of the silky gray plume he was so proud of.

"It will get very cold at night," said Kaylana, frowning up at the sky. The sun was certainly taking its time about setting. "Whenever that is."

"Told you it was six o'clock," Sam commented with a trace of smugness. "Of course, now it's more like eleven at night."

Kaylana continued to glare at the sun. Her people had raised vast stone monuments to its orderly rise and fall and turn of the seasons, and she didn't like what it was doing now at all. It was just skirting the horizon, going to shortcut around the edge of the world and come up on the other side.

"The time are out of joint," muttered Arcie, scooping up some of the larger salt crystals into his pouch, out of idle interest. "And I'm dead beat and half-starved.

Night, morning, noon, whatever, I say we'd best snooze and snack and be headin' out when we're ready."

"I like that idea." Robin yawned again and pawed at the salt-frosted ground with a hoof.

Valerie nodded. "All right ... here in the lee of the mountains we should be fairly well sheltered from the scouring winds at any rate."

"And the rain, when it comes," added Kaylana, looking up thoughtfully at the clear sky. The others secretly sighed at the thought of cold Einian rains. %%%They settled down to rest, yanking loose a few tufts of dried heather from the sides 'of the mountain to make into a small fire. Under Valerie's direction, they built the fire up in the rocks of the mountains; when Arcie asked why, she scooped up a handful of salt-crystals and threw them into the flames. They exploded with a hot blue fire.

"Flammable chemical compounds," she explained.

"Alchemists have tried for years to unlock their secret.

One of my tutors lost his sight when a beaker of these exploded in his face."

The few smoky flames were small comfort against the bitter chill that settled over them when at last the shadow of the mountain fell long across the Waste. Clouds began to gather, blotting out the stars, and there was a smell of thunder.

In another part of the mountain's feet Fenwick was addressing a small band of the members of his Company.

"All right, I know it is past your bedtime, but we must to do some scouting. There is a good moon tonight, until the clouds get thicker, and I don't want to waste it.

There's going to be a storm later, and if we don't find them before the rain washes away their tracks, we will be in dire straits. We must search now. If they're moving by night, we shall see them; if they're camping, we'll look for a campfire or other signs."

Tasmene, visiting his friend's camp, had decided to go along on the hunting party. He tugged at his beard in thought, and, as the rest of the scouts and the wizard Towser hastened off to saddle their horses, he addressed Sir Fenwick dubiously.

"Fenwick, I've been wondering ... these people, you said there weren't more than six of them at full strength?

One of those being the centaur, harmless?"

"That's right," answered the young hero, stringing his bow.

"Then ... I mean, do we really need all these people?

All these men? It doesn't seem, I don't know, say somehow.

Like hunting ducks with a catapult." The big man's %%%brows crinkled in uncertainty. Fenwick peered up at him from under his traditional plumed cap.

"My friend, you have not personally encountered these villains before, I gather?"

"Well, no," admitted Lord Tasmene.

"Then trust me on this. These people are cunning, crafty, cruel, and desperate. They killed quite a number of my best men in the Fens of Friat by means I know not.

These are ducks who are capable of dodging anything less than a catapult. I don't like to see my men killed.

Now, if we outnumber them by enough, casualties will be minimized. Simple strategy ... and we'll likely be able to take the ... important ones ... alive." Fenwick's eyes flickered briefly with lustful thoughts of the red-haired Druid.

Tasmene sighed. "All right ... I suppose you know what you're doing."

"Of course," replied Fenwick, with a smile. "I'm doing what I do best."

They rode out with thirty men and women of the Com pany across the salt-rimmed plains, into an icy scouring wind that blew stinging lashes of salt-laden mist into their eyes and skin. In the half-light of the setting sun and the large moon overhead, the ground gleamed like frost and their shadows jumped over the plains, occasionally blotted out by the larger shadows of passing clouds. But all was dead, lifeless ... they were about to turn back when Fenwick suddenly called the company to a halt and pointed.

In the shadows of the mountains gleamed a tiny dis tant flicker of a campfire.

"Towser," whispered Fenwick, "your spell of secrecy would avail us well now."

The mage nodded and began weaving the magic with words and hands, the strength of Light in the world lend ing strength to his magic. A mist of vagueness seemed to settle over the company of mounted persons, muting the sounds of hoof and harness, blurring the outlines of horse and rider. Fenwick gave the silent command, and %%%they approached the flickering campfire with weapons drawn.

Sam awoke with a start at the sound of a fully armored knight leaping to his feet. A last word of a magic spell clicked into place, and suddenly every limb was filled with aching weariness and weakness. All around him his companions jerked awake, bleary-eyed, and were struck with the same debilitating spell. They managed to look around, to see themselves surrounded in a complete circle by men and women in green and yellow tunics with fully drawn longbows.

"Right," said their leader, a familiar face under a peaked and feathered woodsman's hat. "Good work, Towser, and the rest of you. Don't any of you villains move, or you will die. Except you, Robin, you can get out of here."

Robin shook his head solemnly, his hand on his swordhilt. "No, Fenwick. I've changed sides."