Gord The Rogue - Night Arrant Part 20

"Enlarged? Oh no, human, no such thing has been done. Quite the contrary - you and your companion have been made small to fit the accom- 263.

modations of fair Avalondria." the cleric said matter-of-factly. "Now you see why you must accept the arms that we will supply to you for the trial by combat."

Gord didn't feel any different, but he was only a foot tall! No wonder the glowworms were monstrous, the tree's Interior so vast. The young adventurer turned and looked at the growth behind. It appeared to be the most t.i.tanic ipt ever to grow on Oerth - the largest tree in the world! What startled him even more were the windows, walkways, oriels, pentlces, stairways, and turrets that were built on or hewn from trunks and limbs. "This cannot be the same ipt that stands in the middle of the glen!" he said in disbelief.

"The very same." Panloron said with dignity and pride.

"Impossible!" Hop retorted as he too surveyed the mountain-tall growth that blocked the sky above them from view. "We saw no such construction. Even at a distance in moonlight these works could not escape the eye."

"Of course they could, human. You are in a slightly altered place now, just as are all Poochauns when they are within the Realm of Avalondria. In your own world these will be seen by you as b.u.mps, whorls and holes. Your vision will not see through to the true realm beyond."

"Let's go back and get the clothing and weapons promised to us," Gord interjected practically. He could see the citizens of this tree-realm peering down at them from windows and balconies, and many of these watchers were female. The young thief was growing tired of being on display.

Later, when night had fallen - the time Interval seemed endless to the two captives - Hop and Gord mock-fought each other in order to accustom105 264.

themselves to the long, slender swords, leaf-bladed daggers, and bucklers that the Poochaun guards had grudgingly supplied on Panloron's command. They had also been supplied with garments of Poochaun sort - hose, close-fitting doublet over blouse, silken sash, knee-high boots - and with martial equip-page. "What about long spears and bows?" Hop had asked one of the soldiers.

"In trial by combat you will use n.o.ble weapons." was the haughty repry.

After their rigorous practice session, Gord advanced the subject of exactly how to approach the coming contest "We are in a bad predicament, Hop. and in my opinion we will be in worse straits still if we should defeat and slay the champions their queen has appointed."

"Must we then allow these skinny spritekins to skewer us?" Hop retorted hotly.

"Of course notl But somehow we must win without killing or even seriously hurting them, and in a manner that does not humiliate either them or their monarch."

"Impossible! They are winged, too. Our only hope is to fight for our lives, and as fiercely as we can."

Minutes dragged by. They dozed, resumed their fencing, rested, ate a light meal of strange wafers, a milky liqueur, and other things also odd but nonetheless delicious. Finally Poochaun soldiers came to take them to the field of combat.

Moonlight and shadows made the place seem very eerie. Both Gord and Hop could see with new vision. Panloron explained that this was from the drink they had quaffed.

The pale moonrays seemed as brilliant as the beams of the sun, shadows were deep purple swaths In which the glowing, golden forms of the Poochauns cavorted and flitted. If colors were distorted and different nothing else was 265.

right either. Being reduced to such a small size made adjustment difficult. Smooth ground became rough when one was shrunk to a mere twelve inches high. But as distracting as all of this was. it was also immaterial. They must battle the two champions and win. Whether they were slain in combat or merely defeated made no difference, for death was sure and certain either way.

"Hop," Cord said in the cant of thieves, "can you understand me?"

The mountebank looked surprised but nodded and replied in kind. "Yes, but speak slowly."

"Hold your man - Poochaun - off as long as DOS-, sible. Dont try to wound or kill him. Understand?"

Hop looked doubtful but nodded a.s.sent again. "Until Sir Dragonfly strikes me," he said, "for at that I shall kill the popinjay without mercy."

"We have made a clear s.p.a.ce for you humans to stand in, see?" one guard said as he pointed out an area where the Poochauns had been at work removing vegetation and smoothing the earth. "We are a very fair people, you know," he added seriously.

"We can't fly," Cord pointed out. "Will Prince Buckbee and his fellow champion be constrained to remain afoot?"

"Certainly not! To prevent the Poochaun to utilize his natural prowess is ign.o.ble and villainous!"

"1 thought as much," Gord said dryly.

The contest was heralded by tiny horns of silver - tiny in Gord's mind, at least, for In his present condition they appeared to be normal-sized trumps. A n.o.ble stood and proclaimed the t.i.tles of the queen, who Gord and Hop discovered was named Lifayvia. After receiving due homage, she proclaimed the event a Royal Trial by Combat, and again the n.o.ble spoke. After the charges against Gord and Hop were stated, the two Royal Poochaun- 266.

fan Champions strode forth to stand and bow before the queen. Their homage complete, the pair took wing in a dizzying display of aerobatics that made Gord's stomach knot. If they used aerial tactics, he and Hop would be dead in no time. Suddenly the two Poochauns swooped back to the ground, and the guards thrust Gord and Hop forward. The fight was on.

The young thief didn't intend to make this a long and n.o.ble duel filled with chivalrous acts. Poochaun-tan bards, if there were such beings, would sing of his glorious death if he tried to fight Prince Buck-bee in terms the spritekin expected.106 The sash at his waist had a barely detectable lump in it - his secret weapon. Gord had earlier found a fist-sized stone and tied it into the cloth. As soon as he and Hop had paid their homage to Queen Lifayvia and compliments to their sneering opponents, the young thief acted.

Prince Buckbee sprang into the air, drawing his sword as he did so. Gord didn't bother with sword, dagger, or even the buckler strapped onto his back. Instead, he quickly undid his sash. He had folded it so that it made one turn around his waist.

A quick tug, and he had about eight Poochaun-sized feet of silken sash whirling in his hand.

"What knavery this?" the prince cried, looping and darting to attack the man who spun a sash carelessly over his head.

"No knavery. Dear Buckbee, Just human ingenuity!" The Poochaun ignored the retort, intent upon bringing the combat to a quick end by spearing his adversary in a dtve-and-impale maneuver. The circling sash forced him to swoop so as to come in a beellne at head height to accomplish his tactic. As he did so, the young thief instantly tilted the plane of the spinning sash. The stone at its end didn't 267.

immediately strike the zooming Poochaun, but a portion of the sash that held it enwrapped his arm. The spin then brought the stone In contact with the underside of Prince Buckbee's jaw. He went out like a light. The force of his flying charge continued long enough for his sword to graze Cord's left side. Then the Poochaun thudded to the ground.

"Hang on. Hop!" Gord saw that the mountebank was lighting furiously with the spritekin called Sir Dragonfly. He had been hit at least twice by the Poochaun, but from the looks of it the wounds were no worse than the little cut Cord had suffered.

This made no difference to Hop. He was determined to slay or be slain nowl "Foul, foull" the herald shouted. "Single combat! Stop that human from a.s.sisting his co-felon!" - Ignoring these urglngs and a threatening response from the soldiers around the field, Gord managed to get close to his friend. Ducking to avoid a slash from the airborne Poochaun, the young thief thrust the end of his twisted sash into Hop's left hand, shouting, "Use it like a flail! There's a rock in the end, and you can entangle-" Then he was grabbed by a pair of the Poochaun soldiers and carted away bodily.

"If you try to aid your fellow human again." they warned him sternly, "you will be brought down by archery, and the arrows used will be lethal!"

"I did naught dishonorable," Gord replied, "but I will not dispute your commands at this time."

Hop had taken Cord's suggestion. As soon as he managed to get the sash spinning rapidly with his left arm. the mountebank flung his sword into the air toward the buzzing Sir Dragonfly and used both hands and arms to wield the silken flail then.

The Poochaun tried to cut the device, but this attempt brought him within range of Its clublike head. Be- 268.

fore he could flutter up for another try, the stone-bearing end of the cloth enwrapped his ankles. Hop jerked back, falling over in his effort Sir Dragonfly was yanked down by the force and fell atop the mountebank. In a moment they were entangled in a wrestling match that the slender Poochaun could not win.

The contest was over, and the queen was furious - at first Her champions had been ignominious^ defeated. The humans were proven right by their victory! This was a humiliating day for Queen Lifay-via. But the cleric and others of her subjects spent time calming her, suggesting that perhaps some higher power had taken a hand in the matter.

"Two of the n.o.blest of your subjects, glorious majesty, could not be so defeated, unless another, someone of your majesty's stature, took action to aid these two men.

It was, undoubtedly, meant to be," the cleric a.s.sured her and added, "Other than b.u.mps and bruises - and Sir Dragonfly's sprained wing - both n.o.ble warriors are unhurt, my glorious queen."

"Enough, enough! I am no longer wroth," Queen Llfayvia said. Then she gave a tinkling laugh and actually smiled. "Those two bold warriors of mine did look most foolish as they crashed to dirty their fine garments!" she exclaimed in merriment.107 "We are glad they are not worse injured than they are, for surely their foes could have killed them had they so desired. In fact, we are most amused and also grateful for the sparing of Poochauntan lives."

Although a few of the males looked sullen and angry at her words, the majority of the Poochauns cheered and clapped at their Queen's acknowledgment She raised her hand for silence, and a hush fell.

"We now proclaim a revel in honor of the victors 269.

in Royal Trial by Combat, the Righteous and Honorable Gord and Hopl Fete them with n.o.ble Poochaun-lan merriment! AU of Avalondria is theirs until the c.o.c.k crows morning!"

It was a night of unbridled revelry, and the c.o.c.k crowed much sooner than the "Righteous and Honorable Gord and Hop" would have liked.

"What a hangover," Hop groaned, rolling over to shut out the blazing rays of the sun - a useless waste of energy, for the action failed to accomplish his purpose.

Gord keened in misery too. "Aaah, aargh! Where the h.e.l.ls are we, anyway?"

The mountebank squinted and gazed around. "We're in a meadow! How'd we wind up back in the open?"

"All I remember is three of the prettiest girls IVe ever seen." the young thief said dreamily, "and wine the likes of which the G.o.ds themselves must envy. Where are we?"

"Didn't we have some special place to go? I think I recall a party or something ...

or maybe not. What's wrong with my brain?"

Too much 'of that wine, I think," Gord said to the mountebank. "I'm fuzzy-headed too. What a party we must have had!" And then he had to stop and groan and hold his throbbing head.

Their return to the inn was marked by unusually excited cheers and cries of welcome from Lean Cole and the others. It seemed that Gord and Hop had been missing for fully three days. Everyone thought the two had vanished, or had met with foul play and were possibly dead.

'Well, there's one consolation in all this, Gord,"

270.

the mountebank said with a grin. "We need no longer worry about funds for your stay here."

"Say, Hop, didn't you have some special plan for that problem?"

"Yes ... no ... h.e.l.ls, I don't remember! I seem to see moonlight on a field of toadstools. No. It's gone. It must be the aftereffects of our party."

That was some celebration, wasnt It? Those girls . . ." Gord stopped, puzzled. Like a dream, the memories he had so vividly replayed In his mind were fading as mist before the hot sun.

Hop looked strangely at him. The hangover is getting to you, Gord. What party are you talking about? You and I just did ourselves In with too much good stuff while we were supposed to be hunting."

"I remember that now, too." Gord said in agreement but some vague memory kept tickling the back of his mind.

Meanwhile. Queen Ufayvia and some members of her court were sharing a light moment "So tell me again. What exactly will happen when our two friends find the few mushrooms we allowed them to keep?" Queen UfayvJa asked the cleric while wiping a tear of laughter from one of her br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes.

"Well, your majesty, the "dweomerdots* we so generously allowed them to keep were .

. ." the cleric, who was trying to answer the queen's question with some semblance of a straight face, suddenly lost his composure, his repressed mirth escaping from his now tightly closed lips and emitting a spray of saliva that, fortunately for the cleric, did not contact the queen's person. "Ohhh," the cleric sighed, then wiped his eyes with the edge of his 271.

robe and attempted to begin again.

"The "dots' we let them leave with were a mixture of several different specimens with, shall we say, several different functions. If those fools attempt to partake of their precious 'dweomerdots' they'll find the side effects to be somewhat disconcerting - to say the least!" The hysterical cleric, having thus fulfilled the108 queen's request, collapsed to the ground in an absolute fit of screams and giggles.

For the first time In her life. Queen Lilayvia threw regallly to the wind and was soon following the cleric's lead. The tree that housed the Pooch-auns veritably shook with mirth for a good hour.

Riding Blue Murder slowly back to Greyhawk a day or two later, the unsuspecting Gord discovered he had a handful of dried, oddly colored little discs of fungi in his purse. "Yech!" he exclaimed, tossing them to the ground. Those d.a.m.n things could be poisonous!"

Meanwhile, at about the same time. Hop was busy in the cluttered kitchen of the rambling inn between Gawkes Mere and Olgars Bend. A group of his special cronies were due to arrrlve soon, and in honor of the event the mountebank was preparing his special dish. Not one person who had ever savored Hop's slumgullion would deny its excellence. To the contrary, this dish was universally proclaimed as unsurpa.s.sed by those lucky enough to have eaten it.

"Where are the morels?" Hop called to the busy woman who usually cooked.

"Gone," she snouted back without looking up from her work.

"Gone? That's terrible! I'm doing my slumgullion 272.

with game, and I must have mushrooms. What about those s.h.a.ggymanes?"

"Gone. too. Lean Cole and his bunch ate them last night."

Grumbling and fretting, Hop searched frantically for what he needed. Then, snapping his fingers, the mountebank searched his cloak. It seemed he could vaguely recall some mushrooms he'd put into an inside pocket for some reason. Sure enough! The little b.u.t.tons of fungi were there - dried out and wrinkled, but they would have to do. After all, in a stew such as he'd serve, who'd be the wiser?

"Problem's solved. Cookie. IVe found something that the boys will be sure to think is special!"

The woman finally looked up and shook her head. "Hop. you know you make that stuff of yours so spicy and full of herbs that n.o.body ever knows what you put In It anyway. Why worry about a few tasteless mushrooms?"

"Because," Hop told her with pride and dignity, "these are some of my special friends. I'm going to serve them up a dish they'll remember for the rest of their lives!"

"Well. I guess you'll just do that then, won't you?" Cookie said rhetorically, for Hop was already departing, pot of slumgullion in hand, heading'for the common room.

There was never any doubt about its unforgetta-bllity forever after.

273.

Cats Versus Rats THE WELL-REGULATED BUSINESS of the Thieves Guild was in turmoil. Nerof Gasgol, Lord Mayor of Greyhawk, was personally calling upon the a.s.sembled masters of the guild.

The usual procedure for such an audience would be a summons of the latter to appear before His Solemn Authority, The Lord Mayor. This reversal of form boded ill.

Amid the confusion a tall, sinewy servant went about his duties unnoticed. His hard eyes were keen and quick. None of the others hurrying about would meet his gaze twice, for the tall man's eyes were as flat and cold as a viper's.

A small whistle sounded, its bra.s.sy tweet a formal alert that visitors had entered the precinct of the guild. As a great staff was pounded to announce the lord mayor and his entourage, the tall man seemed to melt into the background. The one with viper's eyes was now no more noticeable than a table or a stool. He had. somehow, managed to shrink and become older. Now he was but one of many lackeys awaiting orders to fetch and serve.

"Cease this parody of ceremony!" the lord mayor commanded as the crier and sergeant-at-arms began to go through their well-rehea.r.s.ed rituals in honor of the occasion.

"Desist!" ordered Arentol, master of the Thieves 275.

Guild. Even though he was one of the ruling oligarchs of Greyhawk, there was no question as to whom ultimate authority belonged.109 Gasgol waved a hand. "Have this chamber cleared Immediately. I have come to speak with you in privy."

The master of thieves signed his Instructions to his fellows. Although he was quite aware that the lord mayor was an expert at the silent speech used by both thieves and a.s.sa.s.sins, Arentol was determined not to bend his guild's rituals and customs one jot more than absolutely necessary. "And your own servitors?" Gulldmaster Arentol inquired .politely, even as his hands and fingers ordered the room emptied of all but a pair of guards and a like number of attendants.

"Don't be impudent." Gasgol countered dryly. Then, turning so as to face his half-dozen men. the lord mayor directed, Two of you remain at the door while you others a.s.sist the gulldmaster's good helpers there." he concluded, pointing out the servants and guards well back from the center of the irregularly shaped counter.

"As you wish, my lord." Arentol's tone reeked of artificial politeness.

"Indeed it will be, guildmaster, indeed. Sit. sit by all means," Nerof Gasgol said with a humorless smile as he took a chair.

"The honor of your-" Arentol was not allowed to finish his attempted lie.

"Honor? Come now. Oligarch Arentol! You know very well that this visit Is less than an honor to you." the lord mayor said with a chill In his tone. "Your guild Is Indeed honored by my presence, but it is a disgrace to you for me to be here,"

The master of thieves of Greyhawk winced imperceptibly. "I know the reason for this visit, but it is no disgrace to me. Surely, Nerof, one rogue bandit roaming so vast a city as this one cannot be so great a matter."

The lord mayor stared at the thief as he said that. "What? You, one of our oligarchs, one who has heard council and leading citizens threaten revolt, dare to say that?" Gasgol's face flushed with anger as he spoke. This matter is one that must be resolved with alacrity, or else this guild will be made anathema until we have control once again!"