by Gary Gygax
At this point, the elven constable proposed that he make ready to accompany any force that was bent on bringing the ravagers to battle, for subjects of Celene were involved after all. He and his squadron of hippogriff-mounted warriors would be certain to locate the enemy and bring them to bay. There were mounts, after all, for the party as well, and Deirdre's words were befitting a chivalrous noble of Celene as well as a patriot of Hardby.
"Gord is correct, if tactless," Gellor said. "Our mission is to recover an instrument of most malign power from the clutches of evil. I too would say we must stop the humanoid despoilers from their savagery - were we not otherwise sworn. The greater evil, and the greatest good, lie northward. There we must go."
"Oscar and I go to slay these foul raiders," Deirdre said with finality. "You others can do as you wish."
The one-eyed bard was grim-faced as he nodded. "Then so be it. Let us see who will remain faithful," he said. Deirdre seemed to wince at these words, and Oscar turned away but made no objection to the cavalier's assertion that he would accompany. Parseval and the rest against the horde to the south.
With the disposition of Deirdre and Oscar decided, Gellor turned to the other members of the group and elicited their answers by calling their names.
"Greenleaf?"
"Need you ask?" replied Curley with a wide grin.
"Gord?"
The young thief spat and stepped beside Gellor. "I have pledged myself."
"Incosee?"
The warrior's dark face split into a broad grin. "A Flan soldier remains loyal unto death, One-eye," he said. "And you are my commander."
"Patrick? Moon?"
Moon, as usual, spoke for both of the fighters. "Your orders, Lord Gellor?" he said, and both men saluted sharply toward the bard.
"It is settled, then. We six ride north," said Gellor, allowing himself a thin smile. Then he turned his head toward Deirdre. "I must forgive you, lady, for your decision. I know you follow where you believe your duty lies . . . even though your vision might be somewhat colored at the moment. In any case," Gellor continued brusquely, "Burney, Rufus, and the rest will be glad for your assistance - and the constable's, too, for his force is to be reckoned with." The bard stepped up to Deirdre, shook her hand, and wished her success in her endeavor. He did likewise with Oscar and Lord Parseval.
The remaining six members of the band watched as Deirdre and Oscar mounted up with the elven guards. A pair of these latter warriors went off westward to bring intelligence to the Court at Enstad, taking with them the half-dozen hippogriffs that Gord and the others had ridden thus far. The aerial cavalry took wing in a thundering of hooves and a rush of great pinions, with neither Deirdre nor Lord Parseval waving a farewell.
"We must hurry after them," Burney said matter-of-factly. "If you will accompany us, good sirs, your horses await at the keep."
Gord and the rest followed the magic-user as he trotted briskly toward the village. Hommlet was a rather unremarkable place, boasting of little more than a good inn, some small shops, a few houses, and a strong tower recently erected under the supervision of Sir Rufus and the magus. As Burney had said, there were a number of swift horses awaiting them in the paddock outside the keep. That place was aswarm with activity, for the militia from all over the area was gathering there. The party could spare no time for any of this, and soon all six were mounted and heading away from the arming village, seeking the trail of the reavers.
"I like not this lessening of our strength," Incosee confided to Gord. "Our number was scant enough at the outset. Now a dozen is but six, and our spell-worker is amongst the missing!"
"Treachery took four, fickleness the balance," replied Gord bitterly. "Both are foul. Still, both Gellor and Greenleaf are able users of the recondite arts."
"Still," countered Incosee, "I dislike losing our wizard, for dweomers of his sort are more potent in battle than those of priestly sort."
For one claiming to be but a plain warrior, Incosee displayed uncommon astuteness in matters of spells. Gord looked at him with new respect as they rode. "And what of the cavalier?" he asked his companion.
"A fearless and puissant fighter, no doubt. I would have Deirdre as a weapon-mate in any battle. It is her cousin, though, who was to enable us to come to sword strokes with the foe," Incosee said. "And that is why I speak as I do."
"Why refer to Oscar as Deirdre's cousin?" Gord said with a puzzled expression.
Incosee looked at Gord for a moment, reading his expression carefully. "I thought you knew," he said. "The two have a fair reputation along the Wild Coast. Their grandmother was a noble of the Court of Hardby. The town of Safeton abducted her, and when no ransom was paid as demanded, the Szek had her publicly executed as an object lesson."
"And then?"
Incosee shrugged and continued. "The two grew and came to the Szek's town one day. Nobody knew their identity, and when they did, it was too late. The next day, Safeton had a new ruler and the family Longland of Hardby was avenged. Ransoming is no longer so popular with the masters of Safe-ton, either."
Gord said nothing to that, and the two rode in silence until it was time to encamp for the night.
Eventually they came upon the place where the dwarf had fallen upon the pilgrim train and had slain most of the hapless folk. It was near sunset when they discovered the grisly remains of the slaughter. Vultures and crows squawked and flapped angrily away as the six riders came upon the sheltered glen.
"Not long dead," Moon pronounced after examining several of the corpses.
"Aye, these murders were done this very day," agreed Patrick.
"The bastards are not far ahead then. Let us ride around and see if there are any signs of survivors," Greenleaf said. "If you, my friend will take the right," he said to the ashen-faced bard, "i will take the left."
Gellor nodded, and they rode into the scrub and tall grass. Gellor, Gord, and Incosee went to the right, while the druid, Moon, and Patrick took the opposite side. Although they were careful, Gellor's group could not find a single trace of anyone who had fled the massacre. Soon it was too dark to continue, so Gellor signaled for the three of them to return to the road. With Gord leading the way out of the underbrush, they came back onto the road about a hundred yards from the site of the murders.
"Here come the others!" Gord called excitedly to his comrades. "And they have someone with them!" This was plainly evident, for a total of five figures were walking up the well-used way, with the adventurers' three horses being led behind.
After moving on a sufficient distance to remove themselves not only from proximity to the bodies but also from predatory beasts attracted to the carnage, the six hard-bitten adventurers made camp and examined their new charges. One was a girl of eleven or so, the other a boy about two years younger. Both were pale and silent. The husky druid patted them fondly and spoke in his most affable voice.
"I know you have been through a terrible experience, and if possible we would have aided you to prevent the murders. That isn't possible, but if you can tell us what happened, we will try to bring the culprits to justice." Here Curley Greenleaf paused and looked at each of the children. "Do you understand?"
The boy only stared back, but the girl spoke. "Yes. Please help us. . . ." she whimpered, her voice trailing off.
Incosee offered the two some hard biscuits and sharp yellow cheese. The children accepted the food woodenly but then devoured it ravenously, for they had not eaten all day. Moon proffered his wineskin, demonstrating how good the stuff was before the children drank. Now somewhat refreshed, the girl spoke in a voice that was steadier but still very quiet.
"I am Isobel, and this is my brother, Franz," she began. "We came all the way from Urnst, sailing across the Nyr Dyv to Dyvers. Mother died, you know, so Father took us with him on a pilgrimage to Mitrik in Veluna. But now Father is dead, too. . . ."
Gellor placed his cloak around the girl's shoulders. "He was a good man, I am certain," said the bard in a gentle tone. "Now h
e has no more troubles to bear. You must think now of yourself and your brother. Life goes on for you, and you must tell us of these murderers."
Isobel stifled a sob and spoke with trembling lips. "It happened just as everybody was waking up and getting ready to travel. Franz and I went into the bushes to ... well, you know. . . ." She hesitated a moment, not wanting to recall what occurred but realizing she must. "I heard a cry, a scream, and awful laughing too. Franz started to run to the camp to see what was the matter, but I held him back."
"We both hid under some bushes," the boy interjected. "One of the men guarding the caravan was running toward us - he had an arrow through his arm, and someone on a horse was chasing him!"
"I didn't want to watch, but I had to," Isobel said, picking up the story. "The guard didn't get very far. There was a dwarf riding after him, and he threw an awful hammer at the poor fellow. It hit him on the back and knocked him down. The dwarf just sat there. We didn't move or make a sound."
Franz nodded, adding, "He was holding the big hammer again - it flew right back to him after it killed the guard. The dwarf was going to get off his horse, but a laughing elf came running up just then. He was giggling about how they had murdered everybody!"
"No, that's not right," Isabel corrected her brother. "They talked about killing everyone except the ones they'd keep to sell as slaves."
"Did this dwarf and the laughing elf have names?" asked Gellor, "Think carefully."
"Oh, yes, sir," the boy said eagerly. "The dwarf was called Lord Obmi, and the nasty elf was Geek."
"Keak," the boy's sister said in a tone that indicated she was used to correcting him.
"What happened then?" the one-eyed bard gently prompted the girl.
"We stayed hidden," said Isobel. "A man came and searched the body of the dead guard. He stripped it and took everything. We stayed put for a long time, but finally there was no more sound for a long time. We got up and looked for Father. . . ." At this, her voice trailed off, and she looked down.
"Then we decided to find some water and see if we could get something to eat too," Franz said, taking up the narrative and pretending his sister was not crying. "That's when you found us."
"We will camp here for the night," Greenleaf told the party. "Tomorrow we'll do what we can for the dead and then get these younglings to a safe place." All the others nodded a grim agreement.
There was a sanctuary of Rao in the nearby town of Little-berg. They left the newly orphaned youngsters there with sufficient coin to see to their welfare until an uncle could be notified and come for them. Gord made a point of promising the two, and Franz in particular, that he would serve as their avenger Isobel looked away, but the boy gritted his teeth and clasped Cord's arm.
"How will I know? Otherwise I must seek these murderers out myself."
"I will send you word, somehow - and proof, too!" the young adventurer replied earnestly. "This holy place will know where you have gone, and one of their brethren will carry word to you and your sister wherever you are."
"Thanks." Franz whispered. "But I wish I was big and strong enough to go with you." Gord, thinking of his own youth, shook his head and said firmly, "Such is not for you, lad, not now - or ever, if you can help it. Rest easy though, for once I pledge myself, I do not flinch from the vow. You will hear from me!" And with that, Gord turned and walked away. Brother and sister stood and watched him until he was out of sight.
Chapter 15
The group divided and began combing the town for information. There was nothing to be learned about the caravan. No train even remotely resembling the description they gave had entered. Littleberg, then, was not the place where the brigands had come with their pillaged goods and slaves - small wonder, upon reflection. That evening they questioned barkeeps, ostlers, and tavern owners. One, with sufficient prompting of drink and copper, recalled that he had seen an odd group heading to the north only yesterday. It seemed a long shot, but the clue was the only one to follow. They took rooms at the tavern, and at first light next morning the six rode northward.
There was no hope, of course, of actually tracking the caravan of reavers, for the traffic was heavy along the highway that ran northward alt the way to Chendl. They passed several villages and dorps during the morning without coming upon any caravan of substance, although there were farm carts, wagons, and pack trains aplenty.
"If they are but a day's distance, my friends," Gellor said, "we shall catch them by nightfall - unless their draught beasts are winged! Let us press on."
Ride they did, and by nightfall they had found nothing. The town of Fountainspring was only a league or so farther, a helpful teamster related, so they rode through the gloaming and arrived before the gates were shut for (he night. The place was a thriving agricultural marketplace, newly arrived at its status. Even its walls were only half completed, and there were many greens and commons still within the town center and the fortifications. Although the residents of Fountain-spring could scarcely number two thousand, there were a number of inns and hostels for travelers, so accommodations were no problem.
"A pleasant little community," Incosee remarked.
"This is no time to think of settling down for a stay, even a brief one!" Greenleaf admonished sternly.
The Flan warrior laughed mirthlessly. "A wandering sellsword only thinks of putting down roots, never does it," he said.
Gord was practical. "Why talk?" he said with mild irritation. "A drink, some food, and a bed are needed - in that order. What else is (here to do in a town of yokels such as this?"
They managed to bathe and get fresh garments as well before the searchers set out again next day. It was evident that they had missed their quarry somewhere between Fountain-spring and Littleberg. Neither town militia nor southbound travelers had seen a trace of a caravan such as Gellor inquired of. Cursing about the time they had wasted, the six retraced their route toward Littleberg. In the afternoon they discovered that the train of demi-humans and hard-eyed men had crossed the Att River but a half-score of miles above Littleberg at the place called the Broad Ford. The main channel of the Att was to the east, and was spanned by a high bridge that enabled the river traffic to pass unhindered. To reach this crossing, however, a great shallow branch of the river had to be forded.
"An oddly tilted island, that," Moon said to no one in particular.
"I recall that I have been this way once, now that I see the place," said Incosee. "The deep channel passes through a rock-walled ravine, and it has worn the stone in such a manner as to make a half-bridge of natural rock. The rest was finished a century ago. It is broad enough for two large wagons to pass each other!"
Gord hunkered down in his traveling cloak. "It would be a wonderful place to see, I'm sure, if this filthy rain would ever cease," he grumbled.
The water was high, another wayfarer remarked, but the ford was no real problem, and soon the six men were on the eastern side of the Att, their horses plodding through the sheets of precipitation. The rain soon became torrential, and despite the best efforts of Gellor and the druid, they lost their way. Knowing that there was no hope of continued pursuit under such conditions, they decided to halt early that day and spent a miserable twilight and night in a wet encampment.
Bad weather persisted, but they slogged ahead through the progressively more deserted and wild countryside. Although the terrain was predominantly flat, there were swampy patches and many small ponds and lakes, fed and drained by streamlets and creeks. Rocky outcroppings and knobby hills thrust up here and there from the plain. The scarcity of trees in the area was from a poor, acidic soil rather than from the clearing of timber for lumbering or agriculture.
"See yon woodlands?" Curley Greenleaf said with a cheerful note in his voice. "With sun and trees, I think our fortune is changing for the better!"
"The land here is different," Gellor agreed, "and I believe we are nearing the Veng."
The six horsemen were moving along the narrow, rutted track that wound its wa
y to the only fording place shown on the bard's map. The Veng was a broad and deep river, and there was little commerce with the land to the north; thus, the condition of the road and the lack of habitation.
A sudden movement caught Incosee's attention. "I saw a figure - a man, I think!" the Flan warrior called out softly to the rest.
Although Incosee did not point or give any indication of where he had seen movement, Gord had seen his head move. The young thief was keen-eyed and quick-witted. Without seeming to scan the area, Gord did so, and then added to Incosee's report. "There are armed men and probably women, too," he said. "I saw the glint of metal and a flash of bright skirt as well."
Gellor didn't turn as he called back to them. "Make no motion or gesture that indicates our sighting," he told the others.
"Ride on as if you were totally unaware of these skulkers. When we hit the trees we'll dismount and work to the left."
The six were soon screened by the trees of the small woods that the road cut through. Although the patch of trees and scrub was no more than two hundred yards wide, it ran for about double that distance lengthwise. The hidden group had been near the end of the western verge of the woods. It was obvious that they sought secrecy, not an opportunity to ambush the riders. The other adventurers followed Gellor's example, dismounting quickly and leading their mounts through the growth. The ground was relatively free of underbrush here, for the trees were large and had heavy foliage - oaks, maples, and a few towering usks. After a short distance, the bard and the druid gave over their animals to Patrick and Moon, telling Incosee and Gord to do likewise.
"Stay here with the mounts," commanded the one-eyed bard, "but be ready to come at my whistle or our call."
Patrick nodded, and he and his fellow mercenary moved to an open space near the edge of the woods as the other four members of the party moved stealthily ahead.
"Hsst! There are a dozen people just ahead," said Green-leaf as he suddenly appeared before Gord and the Flan fighting man. "Gellor and I will move right and left. You two wait a minute, and then advance as quietly as deer to the edge of the clearing they are in - move straight ahead, and be ready for combat."
