Night Arrant (34 page)

This false merchant was the emissary of Arachna of Medegia — coincidentally, the very agent who was to purchase Ageelia and carry her off to an ineffable fete at the hands of the insane emperor of the Great Kingdom. Soon the Medegian would buy the girl — unless Gord could intervene. It was Gord's good luck that this fellow, who called himself by the title of Fastaal Trevan, had apparently placed some personal whim above his duty to his lord and master.

Exalted Holiness Arachna. Even if Gord was unable to steal the necessary amount needed to purchase Ageelia's freedom, he could at least make certain that the Fastaal failed to show up with the sum sufficient to buy Ageelia for his master. Then, in a few days' time, the young thief was sure that he could raise that sort of money. After all, who in the whole vast city of Greyhawk could match his skills?

A glimmer of light shone ahead.

"Careful, master." The voice of the hunchback floated back to where Gord trailed after the three. "See the steps here? just beyond is the domicile of my mistress, the Grand Wizardess."

"High time, too, lout!" the grating voice of the Medegian snarled. "I have other business 'besides this, you know!"

The three dark shapes went up the steps and soon disappeared through the black opening of a tall, square building that might once have been an armory or some similar place for keeping valuable items. Gord noted that the tower had no doors except the one where they had entered, and the only windows visible were at least forty feet above the surrounding street. He went into action swiftly and decisively.

The nearest building was easily scaled by so practiced a climber as he. Even in the dim light of the single lantern near the tower. Gord could see that the fortresslike structure was smooth-faced. After ascending to the roof of the adjoining building, the young thief quickly uncoiled a rope from his waist and twirled it around his head. The line spun out and its small grapnel caught fast in a dark opening of the tower. All of this took no more time than it would take a normal person to walk up the stairs at a casual pace. The more difficult part came now. Gord could go across on the line hand over hand, but time pressed. So instead, he twisted the cord expertly to make it fast on a projection and stepped out onto the thin, taut rope almost as if it were a broad walkway.

Driven onward by a growing sense of urgency, he slid one foot along, followed by the other, -then began to walk almost normally. Hie cord slanted upward, but Gord had little difficulty as he stepped from the line onto the narrow ledge of the lightless window. Footsteps and voices approached the area. Gord crouched quickly and grasped the ledge, lowering himself until he was hanging by his fingertips, just in time to get out of the range of a spreading light that shone through the window bordering the landing.

"So many steps." puffed the voice of the Medegian noble posing as a merchant. "If there are many more, I will go no further, oaf!"

"Nay, nay, honored master," the voice of the bent servant called out within a few feet of Gord's ear. "There are but two flights more in the tower. We go up only one more, but rest here for a moment and catch your breath while I go on and tell my mistress you have come."

"Stand still!" This came from a third voice, that of Bolgar the guard. "We will proceed together only when Lord Hewstein tells you he is ready."

So the Highness of Trevan. Fastaal, surnamed Vultrano, called Humbolth, second of that name in his lineage, was calling himself Lord Hewstein. It seemed to help Gord to recall this information, thus turning his attention away from the throbbing in his hands and arms. Despite all his training and his fine physical condition, the effort required to hang this way was considerable. After taking another minute or so to get his breath back, the Medegian commanded the hunchback to continue leading the group up the stairway. Gord immediately raised himself far enough to see the three disappear upward and then, with equal amounts of speed and stealth, pulled his body up to and through the window. He crept slowly up the stairs until he reached the next floor.

Gord cautiously peeked around the corner, seeing a small room with hangings on every wall, a thickly carpeted floor, and a scattering of rich-Jook-ing chairs and divans. A single opening, an iron-bound door on the far wall, showed between the tapestries. The three other figures were standing together roughly in the center of this room.

"This is the antechamber where we must prepare for meeting the Grand Wizardess," the hunchback said. Then he asked the two visitors to be seated and added, "You, noble merchant, must leave all metal items behind when you pass through that door and upward to view and bargain for the wares offered by the lady."

"Never!" exclaimed the Medeglan. "I'll not venture into some unknown place unarmed!"

"The dweomer surrounding the repository of the items in the possession of the Wizardess demands that no metal be present," the bent-backed agent wheedled. "But consider this, gentle lord. If you must relinquish your weapons, so too must you leave safe behind all your precious metals. Jewels can optionally be left too, and all will be guarded by your trusted manservant. I am obliged to remain here, too, so if anything goes amiss — a needless fear — what problem for such a man as he to slice me to ribbons and come to your side in a trice?"

"And if I agree to this nonsense, how am I to pay for the items I have selected? My gold will be here!" The pudgy Medegian accented his displeasure with a contemptuous sweep of his right hand.

"Your man guards your wealth, sir, and the door at ground level guards the exit from the tower, for only I know the secret place to press and thereby open it. Thus, both guard and gold will certainly be here when you return. The price of the items you desire — negligible, I am certain, because of my mistress's foolish generosity — you will simply leave here on this stand. Then you and your man will return the way we came, I will open the exit door for you, and everyone will be happy," the crooked fellow concluded with his awful grin.

The so-called merchant hesitated, then consented. "All right. Bolgar, I charge you with alertness and caution in watching this lout! if I cry out for help, lift his ugly head from his deformed body and come to me at once!"

Bolgar drew a well-used broadsword. "I hear, my lord, and will obey with pleasure," he replied with a slight bow and a meaningful glance thereafter at the hunchback.

The stooped servant seemed oblivious to the threat as he shuffled over to the door on the far wall. "Leave your metal, wise merchant, and proceed up the stairs," he instructed as he swung open the metal-clad portal.

With everyone's attention elsewhere, Gord was able to slip behind a row of tapestries on the wall opposite the door and move to a position that enabled him to view the situation from a better perspective. He saw that one of the tapestries hid another door, evidently an egress to the rest of the level they were on. By peeking through a gap between the hangings, Gord was provided with an excellent view of what was happening.

"There," said the Medegian with finality as he topped off a small mound of jewelry and a fat purse with a gem-encrusted dagger. "I have divested myself of all my metal, as required. Now I go up to greet your mistress and see if these offerings of hers are as claimed. Woe to a certain scoundrel if they are not!" So saying, the fat fellow turned with a haughty sniff and began to mount the well-lighted steps leading to the tower's upper floor.

Gord's heart sank as he viewed the stuff the Medegian had left behind. The purse could hold no more than fifty or sixty coins. The gems and gold of the jewelry would fetch perhaps as many gold pieces as the purse could hold. Scarcely more than a hundred orbs in total, even if the purse was completely filled with nothing but the golden coins he longed for. The sum was indeed a handsome haul for any thief — except this one, who needed ten times that amount to gain his heart's desire!

Take your eyes off my master's belongings!" Bolgar ordered.

"Of course — no offense." the crook-backed servant said with a chuckling leer. "I will turn my back to it, see?" With that, he plopped into a chair facing away from Bolgar, the stand holding the valuables, and the stairway.

'"Deformed buffoon!" Bolgar muttered as he, also sat, averting his eyes from the twisted back and its jutting hump. Just then there was a sound from above, and the guardsman sprang up and rushed for the stairs. "Is all well?" he shouted upward.

"Quiet, fool!" came a muffled reply. "The sound was naught but my gasp of amazement at the wondrous things this Grand Wizardess offers for sale — truly amazing!"

A puzzled frown came over Bolgar's face briefly, but then the rather dull-witted guard returned to his seat. Gord continued to be skeptical, however. The young thief was an expert at observing and imitating others' voices and mannerisms, and the voice he had just heard didn’t sound quite right. In fact, the initial sound had been more like a choked-off cry of fright than a gasp of pleasurable astonishment Gord drew his shortsword and dagger, expecting to learn the truth soon enough. A clear, female voice said something not quite intelligible from the chamber above. Then the Medegian's voice replied. "This is a fair price indeed, good lady wizard! And what of..."

Footsteps sounded as the voice trailed off. Someone, presumably the Medegian, was certainly moving about, viewing the wealth of magical things to be found above. There was a dragging sound, followed by more muffled conversation. Then all was quiet for a full minute, and Bolgar became uneasy. "What's going on up there?" he said to the hunchback.

The Grand Wizardess is probably seeing that the items your lord selected are properly wrapped," the cripple replied without turning.

This didn't seem to relieve Bolgar's sense of unease. "Lord Hewstein, is all well?" the guardsman cried loudly, approaching the stairway once again.

"Silence! I will be down in just a moment, and you will need all your strength to carry the many burdens I will bring with me. Stand ready at the stairs."

Bolgar stationed himself near the doorway, his back to Gord's vantage point, and Gord peered intently at the opening. A few seconds later, booted legs and the hem of a robe appeared. It seemed it was the Medegian after all, coming carefully down the stairs, one cautious step at a time. Soon the reason for the slow progress was apparent. The merchant's upper torso and face were obscured by arm-clasped bundles.

What to do? Gord considered his choices in a split-second. He could rush forth and deal with the immediate opposition. Bolgar and all, easily. It would be simple to take the Medeglan's valuables and the magical items too. dash down the stairs, find the means to open the door, and escape. The trouble with that was twofold: First, he'd have only a small part of the sum he needed, and another servant of the Overking would simply step forward and pay over the money to purchase Ageelia. Second, the wizardess would be angry at this intrusion and might be able to do something nasty before Gord could find the secret catch on the lower door.

Before he could assess his next option, an attempt at looting the wizardess herself, the bundles being carted down the stairs tumbled to the floor. Bolgar made one move forward as the items began hitting the floor, then froze in his tracks and turned gray.

Gord blinked and shook his head: no, he wasn't seeing things. Bolgar stood stock still before his eyes — a solid, unmoving shape of gray stone, fortunately positioned between Gord's vantage point and the form of the Medegian. Just as the boot-clad feet moved to step around the gray-hued form, Gord turned his eyes away from the sight - not wishing to look upon that which could turn a man to stone. But he need not have worried, because the figure had drawn up a hood that obscured its — her? — true appearance.

"I have veiled myself, Pledd. Turn around and open your eyes," a throaty, female voice spoke in a sensual contralto. Hearing this. Gord also looked toward the figure who spoke, but kept himself concealed. The female removed a vial from a pocket in her robe and handed it to the hunchback. "Drink this strength potion, then remove the remains to my chamber now," she said. There was a faint chorus of hissing accompanying the order.

"Yes, mistress." came the hunchback's giggled reply. He quickly drank the liquid and then approached the petrified form.

Without a sound, Gord crept to a place near the stairs leading below, crouched, and peered cautiously under the hem of the tapestry. The crook-back's mistress, the so-called wizardess, was surety nothing other than a medusa. The position of her feet indicated she was directing her gaze elsewhere, and the young thief dared to raise the hem of the hanging to get a full view of the place. He was still in no immediate danger, for her hood was set in place. Pledd casually picked up the stone form of Bolgar and tossed his former tormentor over a deformed shoulder. "Hasten, you fool!" hissed the false wizardess. "That potion is quick to wear off, and you'll find yourself crushed by your burden if you're not quick about it." The cripple picked up his pace and bounded lightly toward the stairs.

"While you are carting that above, I will divide the spoils," the medusa said seductively. Your share will be left on the stand, as usual."

The hunchback indicated his cheerful appreciation as he disappeared up the stairs. He was indeed as strong as ten healthy men! His amused mistress continued watching, but in a moment Gord knew she would turn to examine and divide the valuables that were formerly the property of the Fastaal Trevan, late henchman of the Exalted Holiness of Medegia. It was now or never; without further hesitation, the young thief acted.

Moving with animal reflexes, Gord sprang to his feet and used his enchanted dagger to slash through the arras at head-height. The sound alerted the medusa to his presence, causing her to turn around. But as she threw back the hood that obscured her deadly gaze, Gord grasped a piece of wall hanging and used it as a shield. When the medusa attempted to move sideways and Hank her advancing adversary, the young thief hurled the cloth across the intervening space. The material landed where he had aimed it. settling over the medusa and covering her from crown to waist. The creature shrieked horribly and tore at the stuff that covered her, but Gord was far too quick. He leaped forward, and his sword and dagger flashed — once, twice, thrice. Then the covering was off, red-stained now.