Lord Toede (21 page)

In which Our Protagonist is lured away from his pastoral setting and his final reward, and
becomes involved with a situation of his own making, but not quite exactly as he would
have expected it. Toede awoke with a ringing that started at the base of his neck and
radiated throughout his entire form, ending in (what he imagined were) vibrating
fingertips.

He expected to be back on the stream bank, having set a new record for dying. Instead, he
was inside a suspiciously familiar dwelling, made of hooped wood and brush in the kender
style. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus. “Hello, Toede,” said a small figure across
the room. “You really are Toede, aren't you? The one and true Toede.”

Toede squinted, normal vision returning. The figure was familiar, child-sized, and dressed
in fringed leather. Her face was more tightly drawn and serious than before, and the soft
russet ringlets of her hair had been replaced by a short, rust-colored down that snugly
wrapped her skull. “Taywin,” he muttered. “Kronin's daughter. The berry picker. The kender
poet. You've changed your look.” He couldn't help but frown in disapproval, though to his
hobgoblin sensibilities anything was an improvement over her previous appearance.

Taywin Kroninsdau passed a hand over her scalp. “It is you,” she hissed, then in a more
normal voice added, “You saved my life, a year ago.” “I was . . .” Toede paused. If she
had wanted simple vengeance, she would have had him killed immediately. Try honesty, he
thought, but temper it with wisdom.

“I was just trying to escape,” said Toede, raising his eyebrows to indicate his sincerity.
“Saving you was a happy by-product.” “Yes,” said Taywin, her face furrowing. “It was that
awful Groag's idea, wasn't it?” Now comes the wisdom part. Toede nodded as if in
agreement, but added, “Groag's involvement is immaterial to my own actions. One must take
responsibility for one's own deeds.”

“Ah yes,” nodded Taywin. “Be truthful in thy trysts and reap the bounty of thy trust,” she
said, smiling at him. Toede wondered if her poetry had taken a turn for the worse. That
would explain the haircut. He shook his head, waved his hand, and said, “Whatever. Where
am I?”

“In our camp,” said Taywin, ignoring his confusion. “We're having a major moot this
evening, and Daddy's going to have to decide if we're going to join the Allied Rebellion
or not. You'll be there, of course.” “Of course,” said Toede, already checking the exits
and wondering how many guards must be posted outside. They hadn't chained him up, which
was a good sign, but this talk of a rebellion was bad. Perhaps he could learn more, then
head for the hills until he ascertained whoever it was they were rebelling against.

“This revel alliance...” began Toede. “Rebel,” corrected Taywin. “If s the Allied
Rebellion.” “. . . is a new thing,” finished Toede. “Assume I'm unaware of what has
transpired since we last met. Pretend I'm ignorant in all this.” “I come to you skyclad
and unshorn, seeking the teachings of the flesh.” She was quoting again, and

something tickled the back of Toede's mind. “The rebellion got its start about five months
ago, after the destruction of most of Flotsam by a magical creature of great power,” she
said. “His name was Jugger,” muttered Toede. “At least that was the name you or I could
pronounce.” Taywin's eye lit up in childlike glee. “So you were there! Both sides have
claimed so!”

Toede shrugged and said, “For a little while I was. But what...” Toede's question was
interrupted by a knock at the door, and a tall, flame-haired human who was kneeling down
to peer inside. “Is our guest awake?” said Bunniswot, looking tanner and (if possible)
thinner than he did at his last meeting with Toede.

“I was just telling him the tale of the rebellion,” Taywin said brightly. “He was there,
as you said, at the helm of the mighty hammer-creature . . . What did you say its name
was?” “Jugger,” said Toede, regarding Bunniswot as if the scholar had just popped out of a
cake. “I was unaware you two knew each other,” he said, eyes wide, adding to himself, But
not horribly surprised, given that you're both a few boulders short of an avalanche.

Taywin shot a concerned look at Bunniswot. “And our other guest, is he... ?” Bunniswot
sighed. “Out spreading the good word, again. I last saw him trying to win over your
father's guards.” Taywin rose and stomped her small feet. “I asked him to stop doing that.
Daddy will get the wrong idea about the movement, and he'll never help us. I'll go get
him.” Bunniswot nodded. “Good idea, but take Miles with you.” At the sound of his name, a
vaguely familiar kender guard popped his head in the hut. He nodded at Taywin, then stared
at Toede and smiled. It was a creepy smile, made all the more so by the fact that every
second tooth, top and bottom, was missing. The berry-picking guard, Toede realized, and he
suddenly understood the force of the blow on the back of his own head. Toede touched the
lump there and smiled back venomously. Whatever else, this matter was far from over. They
locked glares for a moment, then Taywin breezed between them. She curtsied before
Bunniswot, and said, “Dance upon the water lilies, Scholar Bunniswot.” Bunniswot returned
the benediction. “Dance upon the water lilies, Taywin Kroninsdau.” The two kender
disappeared, and Bunniswot, still hunched over, shuffled over to where Taywin had been
seated and sat down, stretching his long legs. Bunniswot managed a tired smile. “So, how
are you feeling? When Miles and Taywin dragged you in, I was afraid they were too rough on
you.” Toede shrugged off the concern and said levelly. “/ come to you skyclad and unshorn,
seeking the teachings of the flesh, eh?” Bunniswot reddened and coughed. “Ah, that,” he
said, gulping. “You know, I'm glad to have this time alone with you, so we can sort this
out.” “It took me a quote or two to make the connection,” said Toede with a smile. “Thaf s
what all this lily-dancing and trusting trysts is all about, isn't it? The ogre
pornography.” “Well, yes and no,” said Bunniswot. “And it's ur-ogre, and erotica.” “What
does 'yes and no' mean?” said Toede. Bunniswot spelled it out. “After Renders disappeared
and the gnolls were defeated, I had trouble getting my... er, findings, published. There
was neither funding nor support, and frankly, the material did have a... risque... nature
to it.” “So... ?” “So I had it published myself,” said Bunniswot. “Initial release of
twenty handwritten copies. Second release of a hundred. Working on a third now.” “I know
there's something coming that I won't like,” said Toede, reducing his eyes to slits. “Why
not tell me now and get it over with?” “I didn't publish it as historical documentation.
No one in academia would take something like this seriously.” Bunniswot smiled weakly.
“And instead ... ?” continued Toede. Bunniswot looked at the floor, speaking very fast. "I
said it was the political and scholarly advice of one of the most misunderstood
warrior-leaders of our time. The

not-so-late Highmaster Toede.“ ”What?“ ”It's gotten very good reviews,“ put the scholar in
quickly. ”The Tower of High Sorcery alone has asked for three copies. We're talking about
reprinting it for the libraries of Sancrist.“ ”You signed my name to your ogre
pornography?“ hissed Toede, keeping his volume down as best he could. ”Well, I didn't call
it pornography,“ replied Bunniswot with a 'what-kind-of-idiot-do-you- take-me-for' tone to
his voice. Toede felt his face grow red. ”What. Did. You. Call. It?“ He bit off each word.
”Political and social allegory, concentrating on both the relationship between the ruler
and the ruled, and the relationships between rulers and other rulers,“ said Bunniswot. ”So
all the talk about sex is ... ?“ Toede felt a mounting pressure building behind his eyes.
”Not about sex at all,“ Bunniswot said, nodding, ”unless you have a filthy mind. And since
no one admits to having a filthy mind, it's okay.“ ”Wonderful,“ muttered Toede. ”And I
take it our kender poetess has read the book.“ ”She can quote it chapter and verse,“ said
Bunniswot. ”If s the text book for the Allied Rebellion.“ Toede did not know if he was
supposed to laugh or ay. ”So I'm credited with a book I didn't write, that is about sex
although it isn't, and that is being used by a rebellion that has yet to rebel?“ Bunniswot
tilted his head slightly, as if considering Toede's argument. ”Good summary,“ he said at
length. Toede pressed his hands to his temples. ”Just bloody wonderful. Okay, what else
can go wrong?“ ”We're back!" said Taywin, bouncing into the hut. She was followed by a
large, angry-looking human dressed in black. Toede's eyes widened. His shirt was open to
reveal a large T that had been carved into his chest.

*****

The assassin from the Jetties towered over Toede. Even hunched over, his shoulders grazed
the ceiling of the hut. The assassin's eyes glowed like hot embers with barely contained
emotion. At his hip was a great sword in a rune-carved scabbard. Toede felt his throat go
dry, his tongue turn to sandpaper. Toede choked out, “Dance on the lilies, warrior.” The
assassin let out a great cry, and Toede backed up. As it was, he was pressed flat against
the wall of the hut when the human drew his sword and collapsed to his knees, presenting
it, hilt-first, to the hobgoblin. “My life is yours, O sage leader!” said the warrior, his
eyes focused on Toede's toes. Toede pried himself from the side of the wall with as much
decorum as he could muster. He took the sword (the same one, he noted, that had previously
been used in combat against Groag) from the warrior's hands, and strongly considered
ramming it right back into the human's T-inscribed chest. However, as this might lead to
further complications with the kender, (particularly the guard with the club), he instead
gently touched the warrior with it on the shoulder, his mind scrambling for something
suitable to say for the occasion. “Your life is yours to live,” mumbled Toede. “Arise,
good Sir ... In all the previous excitement I never learned your name?” “Rogate, most sage
leader,” muttered the warrior, eyes bent to the floor. “Arise, Sir Rogate,” said Toede.
“You have pledged your quest with my own.” Whatever the heck that might be, he added to
himself. Rogate tottered to his feet, swaying slightly, and declaimed to the others, “I
serve the mighty Toede, and have been accepted and forgiven! Behold, the first of the
Toedaic Knights!” Bunniswot and Taywin applauded politely. Miles, the kender guard,
grimaced and left to return to his post. “Now, if everyone will please sit down,” said
Toede. “Perhaps someone would like to tell me exactly what is going on.”

Rogate drew himself up to his full height, or at least as much height as the hut
permitted. “But you know all, most puissant and sage of wonders!” Toede motioned for
Rogate to sit, saying softly, “I come to you skyclad and unshorn, seeking the teachings of
the flesh.” He made a mental note to get a few more quotes under his belt.

Rogate's face brightened, then he quietly sat down. “Perhaps, then, it is best that I
begin, my wondrous leader, for I have been in Flotsam for most of the past year, and have
seen what has transpired.” Toede nodded. Rogate continued, "I awoke in the Jetties with my
wounds healed, the innkeep declaring that you had considered taking my life, but spared me
instead. In that moment I realized your true mercy and felt ashamed.

"I did not return to my post that night, or ever again. I know now that I was a dupe of
the false creatures known as the Water Prophet and Gildentongue. When Gilden-tongue's
dining habits were revealed to the masses I was angered, but more concerned when it turned
out that Hopsloth's own priests chose to rule in the same .highhanded fashion.

“I sought out one who I believed would tell me what had happened to you, and found that
unworthy creature, Groag.” Rogate looked as though he was about to spit. “He helped me
not, and soon afterward he left the city himself, to further his own ambitions.” Toede
slid a look in Bunniswot's direction, but the scholar declined to mention his tenure of
eating Groag's cooking. Instead, he stared blankly out the hut door.

Rogate continued. “I knew that retribution most divine was upon us, and began to preach,
to warn others of your next return. The priests of Hopsloth crushed all dissent, and many
early martyrs disappeared without trace.” Rogate lowered his eyes in silence. "I was
correct, and you did return, on the back of a great metal elephant that spoke in a
mathematical tongue!

“You were magnificent, my sage leader!” beamed Rogate. “You cut down the followers and
guards of Hopsloth right and left, charged his fortress-lair, and dispatched him
forthwith. Some say you died in the struggle, but I believed that you passed only after
you had removed that foul stench from our land. It was then I founded my simple Faith-of-
Toede-Returned. ”And yet,“ added Rogate quickly, ”the foulness reappeared. In the turmoil
following your triumph against Hopsloth, a dark being returned to Flotsam, the obscenity
known as Groag.“ Another silence hung in the air for a brief ice age. Toede prompted, ”And
then . . . ?“ But the newly christened Toedaic Knight sat, shaking his head. ”It seems
that Groag captured Rogate's audience,“ Bunniswot put in. ”Kidnapped!“ roared Rogate.
”Stole their minds and souls! Filled then with false fears and threats and had himself
declared Lord of Flotsam, chosen by powers beyond our ken! It was then that the darkness
truly fell, and I was forced to leave!“ Toede was stunned. ”He succeeded? Groag?“ he
stammered. He looked at Bunniswot. ”Short fellow, whines and faints a lot?“ The scholar
nodded. ”In the confusion following your ... er ... death, Groag arrived and usurped
Rogate's preachings, but with the added punch line that he controlled your return, and
unless all of Flotsam toed his line, you'd be back with a vengeance.“ ”An effective
argument,“ said Toede. ”And what happened when the populace laughed in his ugly face?“
”That's just it, they didn't laugh,“ said Bunniswot. 'They'd seen the local ruling class
decimated twice in previous months by your apparent actions. They figured things could
hardly be worse with Groag on the throne, so he took control by acclamation. After all, he
claimed to be acting in your name.” “False pretender,” muttered Rogate. “False minion! And
he wore a mask, so none might know his face, though many knew his touch.” Toede was silent
for a moment, unable to think of a suitable reply. Then he asked, "So how's he