Irving arose in the same lethargic fashion characteristic of his father, and said, "Well, I guess we made it, huh?"
"Yeah, we made it," Joe replied. "Let's finish off what's still edible and hit the road."
They finished it off and tossed what was left into the brush, then packed up the last stuff to go. Ti had very little trouble talking Irving into the loincloth, and she managed to get it so that it stayed. It did look more like a giant diaper on him than the romantic he-man image it gave his father, but she didn't make the comment, and Joe seemed to understand and kept his mouth shut, too.
They mounted up, and Joe took one last look around, then focused on the small grove and mentally said, "Thank you," in their direction. And from them, although it might have been the wind in the trees, he thought he heard, "Any time. "
If it wasn't a dream, if it was real, then their information was reliable as well. The dangerous creatures of faerie were mostly of the night, at least around here, but if there was an outpost Sugasto's people maintained with zombies protecting it, they were a threat any time. He wouldn't feel reasonably secure until they passed the tollhouse at the edge of Grotom Wood.
He couldn't help thinking about his old enemy. "I wonder why Sugasto stopped?" he asked aloud. "Nobody was able to hold him off for long, he had an endless supply of new recruits from among his own victims, and he had enormous power."
Ti shrugged. "Possibly he had something more important to attend to first," she suggested. "Or, perhaps he was ill. Perhaps he still doesn't feel he's a match for Ruddygore. Who knows? It is enough for me that he did stop."
They came upon the old tollhouse, now a roofless stone ruin encrusted in moss, lichen, and creeping vines, looking like some sinister gateway to Hell, and almost immediately the countryside started to change its character and things brightened considerably. Now there were rolling hills and fields with farms and forests that looked more charming than threatening. To Joe, it felt like home.
By midmorning they reached Hotsphar, a small town built on a thermal region, with hot springs and hissing holes in the ground the locals used for everything from cooking to bathing. The idea of a hot bath in one of the small bathhouses was irresistible, particularly when it cost only a few coppers. They were running pretty low on money, but they no longer had that far to go.
They had the place almost to themselves. "The nearby wood still frightens many good folk in these troubled times," the proprietress explained.'"And, of course, it's the off-season."
The bath in the crystal clear water of the hot springs was wonderful, and the thermal-heated sauna not only relaxed but did a nice job of drying out the clothing and blankets. Ti was methodical in getting them washed and even combing their hair. After, she was even able to borrow some scissors and thread and make a decent loincloth for Irving. She was quite pleased with her handiwork and the praise it invoked.
The change that had come over her was remarkable, Joe thought. She not only had completely stopped nagging and complaining about things, but she actually was doing a lot of stuff on her own initiative that, not long before, she would have thought beneath her. She was solicitous, cheerful, and even deferential. That last was hard to get used to, since it went a little against his grain, but he went with the flow. He felt rotten about feeling the way he did, but, the fact was, he liked it. He just kept telling himself that, if the situation had been reversed, with him the slave and she the mistress, she would have liked it, too.
They blew the last of their money on a hot meal and some basic snacklike provisions. It was now nearly certain that they would get to their destination by nightfall. Joe was anxious to see Ruddygore again, in any event. The master sorcerer would know the situation on Sugasto and maybe have a job or two for him. He also had another little matter to take up with him in private.
In the very late afternoon, they passed the trail to the upper ferry and reached the bridge over the Rossignol, a major tributary of the Dancing Gods, at Terdiera. Beyond, overlooking both the town and the confluence of the two rivers, could be seen the massive spires of Castle Terindell.
It was a troll bridge, of course, and Joe suddenly realized that they were flat broke, and that even the town was across the river from them.
Irving stared fearfully at the trolls, who seemed to be all big, glaring eyes and sharklike teeth, sort of like Muppets from Hell, but the lead troll recognized Joe.
"Ah! You are prepaid, barbarian, and your company," he growled. "Lord Ruddygore's cadet came down three days ago. Until you showed up, we thought we'd gotten a freebie."
They were delighted to hear it, but puzzled- "You say they came down and paid three days ago? But they didn't even know we were coming!"
"Obviously they did," the troll responded. "They know most everything hereabouts before anybody else does."
The town looked pretty much as he remembered it, but they didn't linger there, instead heading straight on up the one additional mile or so to the castle on the point. Joe couldn't help but think back many years ago to the first time he and Marge had come through these huge outer walls and gates and across the drawbridges. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Like most castles of the region, Terindell was actually a series of buildings, one inside the other, and the interior contained a hollow, rectangular courtyard. Tiny brownies tended to the elaborate gardens that encircled the open area, and elf grooms appeared to help them down and take their horses.
Irving was awestruck by it all, gaping at all and sundry, but unable to say a word. They walked up to the main entrance as the sun set. Before they could knock, the huge wooden door opened, revealing a slender, dangerous-looking fairy dressed in a gray robe with golden tassels. He was nearly six feet tall, and there was something at once cold and menacing about him. That was the mark of the Imir, one of the few warrior races that the faerie had.
"Hello, Poquah," Joe greeted the creature.
"Jeez! Mister Spock!" Irving muttered under his breath. "What next?"
"You're late!'' the Imir snapped.' 'It's about time you showed up!"
"I didn't know we had an appointment."
"Humans!" the Imir sniffed. "You probably still think you just got the idea to come here. You were summoned!."
"What's the rush?"
"Oh, nothing much," the Imir responded a bit sarcastically. "Only that the Dark Baron slipped our leash and is free once again and that, perhaps not coincidentally, Sugasto seems to be getting his act together once more.''
Joe shook his head in wonder and returned a wry smile.' 'Back to normal," he sighed. "Nice to see you, too, Poquah."
Chapter 5
Plots Go Wrong, As Usual
Anyone, whether hero or villain, human or fairy, whose life or death would in any way change the course of destiny, shall always be given a way out, no matter how certain the doom or absolute the trap.
—The Books of Rules, XXII, 102(b)
Throckmorton P. Ruddygore looked his old self and none the worse for wear, almost out of place in his grand sorcerer's robes, which he favored in Husaquahr. Of course, he also looked out of place in his characteristic formal wear on Earth. Frankly, he looked as if he should be wearing a red suit with white fur trim, for there was not one from Earth who met him who didn't immediately think of him as the perfect, perhaps the real Santa Claus.
"Joe! Tiana! And, oh yes, the young master Irving as well! Welcome, welcome to my humble abode!"
Irving looked around the sumptuous great hall, with its ornate gold on almost everything, its finely polished handcrafted furniture, thick, plush rugs, and all the rest that shouted the height of luxury, even back home, and sniggered a bit.
"Come, now. Have seats! Anywhere at all, please. How was your vacation?"
Joe took one of the chairs and Tiana sat down cross-legged on the floor to his left without even thinking about it.
"Restful, until the last week or so, "Joe told him. "Irving's gotten pretty good on a horse and shows real potential. We had a pretty rough trip until the la
st day, though. Short on money, long on problems. It was worth it, I think, to get back into some kind of trim, and, of course, to get to know my son a little bit more."
The old sorcerer nodded. Irving had just sat down in the plushest, most comfortable chair he'd ever experienced in his whole life when the host said, "But, come, come! I'm forgetting my manners. You must be starved after such a journey! Come, let us sup, and then we'll have time to talk!"
Irving was suddenly torn between leaving the most luxurious seat he'd ever sat in and the idea of real, decent food. It was no contest; food won. Besides, he thought, this joint is so big, if I don't follow them now, I may never find my way out.
They walked for what seemed like a mile, then entered a huge banquet hall, with a long table and plush red chairs and a kind of screened-off area where, it appeared, the food came from.
"We'll just eat in the small dining room tonight,'' Ruddygore said almost apologetically.
Showoff! Irving thought. But the old geezer really did have things to show off, he had to admit that. Now this was the way to live!
"Take any seat," Ruddygore told them. "We don't stand on formality here most of the time."
Joe took a seat to one side of the far end and Irving the other. Ruddygore went around to sit at the head, then noticed that Tiana was just standing there. "Come, come, girl! Sit!"
She looked almost in tears. "I—I can't. I just can't, that's all."
The sorcerer got up and walked around to her and looked her over with a gaze so fixed and concentrated that it seemed as if he even looked inside her and inventoried the atoms in her structure.
"Oh, my! The Rules have been rather vicious to you since we came back, haven't they, my dear? Oh, my! I must be growing old and senile. That possibility simply never entered my head. Well, there are no slaves at Terindell—fairy folk work for peanuts and have a much lower overhead than humans. And I'll not have any guest in my house serving here. Tell you what— you go into the kitchen and eat what you like and gossip with the help, and we'll talk together, you and I, privately later. Okay?"
She nodded, looked at Joe, who seemed a little confused, but shrugged, and she walked back behind the screen and presumably into the kitchen.
"What's that about?" Joe asked him. "We all ate at the cafes together."
Ruddygore took his seat and nodded. "True, but that's a different situation. Those sorts of places are within her allowable social range. In this setting, she could serve us, but she could not join us. How long has she been fixed in this level?"
"A couple of days. Oh, it's been little changes all along, but this way, just maybe two, three days tops."
' 'I thought as much. She's going to have a tough time because she's smart and strong-willed and used to equality, at the very least. I've seen minds snap under that sort of strain."
"Can't you unslave her?" Irving asked him. "I mean, you're a superpowerful wizard, right?"
"True, young sir, but I am bound by the Rules just as much as she is. She may not like it, but she understands that as well. The only two ways I know would be to use the most powerful of djinn magicks, which I will not do unless there is no alternative, so dangerous is it, or, alternatively, to switch her soul to another body with different Rules."
"You can do that?"
"No, that's one outside my knowledge. I could put one into an empty vessel—that's simple. It's getting it out, and maintaining the empty vessel, that's the problem. It's one that Sugasto somehow solved, or probably either appropriated or got from Baron Boquillas."
"I keep hearin' 'bout this bad dude the Baron. What's his problem?" the boy asked.
"He's a throwback. The most brilliant mathemagical mind in ten thousand years. There's probably not a single thing we can imagine that he couldn't figure out how to do if he wanted to do so."
"Yeah? So how come you beat him, then?"
Ruddygore sighed. "The Baron suffers from several flaws without which he would have been invincible. For one thing, he suffers from an admirable lack of imagination. He's predictable to a degree, and his mind works in narrow channels. That doesn't mean he doesn't come up with highly innovative new ways to cause trouble—that television preacher business he tried on Earth was highly creative—but he is obsessed only with Earthly power over others. He is unshakable in his belief that out of Hell can come all of the solutions to all of the problems of the universe. He was taken in by that idea, just as many others were and continue to be taken in by it, and because he knows he is brilliant, he is incapable of believing that he can be taken in. It's a nasty little mental circle common to megalomaniacs."
"And you lost him when you had him?"
Ruddygore sighed. "Alas, yes. I should have known better, but after what happened back on Earth when he was loosed there, essentially powerless himself, I didn't dare allow him to remain there again."
"Then why not just kill him? I mean, he kills lots of folks, don't he?"
Ruddygore nodded. "The Rules again. They gave him his chance, his way out, by seducing me with the idea that I could use and control him to get at Sugasto. It's an arbitrary Rule, but it's not one we can hate, either. Your father's escaped death more than once because of the same regulation." There was a commotion behind him, and he paused and brightened. "Ah, but I think the food has arrived! Business and hard thinking can wait until we've done.''
And arrive it did. Short, plump fairies who looked like a cross between the Munchkins and the Pillsbury Doughboy began marching out with platter after platter, course after course. It was an impeccably cooked feast for twelve, and even after Joe and Irv had eaten their fill and Ruddygore had eaten six times theirs, there was plenty left over.
And when they'd protested over and over that they couldn't handle another thing, Ruddygore signaled the end to it. Finally he got up and said, "Joe, why don't you take Irving down and show him around? I suspect he'd enjoy the games room in particular. We'll speak in a little while."
Joe nodded, glad to have an excuse to walk some of this off and knowing already that he was going to regret this overindulgence later, but knowing, too, that it was worth it.
Ruddygore watched them go, then gave a signal. An elf in household livery appeared almost instantly.
"Has the girl finished eating?''
"Yes, sir. She ate pretty good."
"Very well. Give me five minutes and bring her to my study.''
The elf bowed and vanished.
Ruddygore's study was smaller than the great halls, but it was no tiny room. It couldn't be, since, among other things, it had to hold the complete Books of Rules. They rose there, from floor to ceiling, in custom-made, built-in bookcases, covering every wall and allowing only for the door. A sturdy ladder on rails mat would hold even the sorcerer's great bulk went completely around the place. Ruddygore studied the seemingly identical thick, red-bound volumes for a moment, then pulled the ladder around, got up to one particular shelf, and pulled down a volume. He checked to see that it was the right one, then went over to his desk, fished around in a crowded drawer, and came up with a small case from which he removed a brilliant lavender jewel whose one outstanding feature was that it was totally flat on one side. He placed the jewel on the book, his hand on both, and concentrated.
It was a convenient gimmick for looking up things in a hurry or impressing others that you knew everything in all those books. For a while, perhaps a couple of hours unless he used it again, he did know every single word in that one book. It would fade, of course, but he didn't want to retain it. An intelligent man didn't know everything, he simply knew how to look everything up quickly and efficiently.
There was a knock at the door, and he said, "Come in." The door opened, and Tiana walked in, hesitantly. The elf closed the door from the outside, leaving them alone.
Ruddygore settled back in his chair and she stood in front of his desk. He didn't offer her a seat because he knew, particularly now, that she could not do so alone in his presence.
"I am reall
y sorry," he began. "I was preoccupied. I'd spent all that time with the djinn, which is an unnerving experience for anyone, then the quick hustle out, and all those loose ends to attend to—I should have thought to safeguard you before you returned."
"My lord, it is not anyone's fault but mine," she responded. "My ego blinded me. Even so, with this build I could hardly have been an Amazon warrior. Joe belongs out and free to do what he does best. Given this body, there is nothing much else I could have become when I chose to go with him."
"But you still had the romantic view of it all, didn't you? It is only now, when all the strings are finally tied, that you realize all the implications of it, and it is very hard on you."
"Yes, my lord. Very hard."
"You do know why the system exists here. I know you do. I ran into an Earth phrase that catches the very essence of life: 'There is no such thing as a free meal.' Somebody always pays. You live in a hot climate, you have bugs upon bugs and tropical diseases. You live in a house and you have high costs. Live in a flat and you have horrible and noisy neighbors. Every positive has negatives. To be in the upper classes means to be virtual prisoners, unable to see and do anything you really wish, dressing thus and so, attending this and so, and having a totally regulated life. If everyone were rich and nobody had to work, there'd soon be no one to maintain the roads, guard the wealth, build the buildings and tear them down, cook the food, grow and crush and age the wine, and so on. Money is meaningless in itself. It gains its meaning from the blood, sweat, and toil, the labor, materials, services, and skills that it took to get us things."
"Yes, my lord. I understand this."
"Earth has a dynamic system, ours is relatively static. The Rules and the laws under them guarantee inequality without much change, but we accept it as the price for the meal. Here, no one is involuntarily unemployed or homeless against his or her will. Here the system provides the basics to everyone, and in the process we have rid ourselves of many of the social tensions, the hatreds, prejudices, and fears, that bring out the worst in Earth society. That was built-in the moment the Founders decided upon the supremacy of magic over technology. Tell me—did you mink slavery was so bad, so evil, when you were on the other side of it?"
Songs Of The Dancing Gods Page 10
