Dragons of Autumn Twilight dc-1

by Margaret Weis

  "This way!" Bupu clutched at Raistlin. pointing down a street branching off to the north. "This home!"

  "At least it's dry," Flint grumbled. Turning right, they left the river behind them. Mist closed in around the companions as they entered another nest of ruined buildings. This section of town must have been the poorer part of the city of Xak Tsaroth, even in its glory days-the buildings were in the last stages of decay and collapse. The gully dwarves began whooping and hollering as they ran down the street. Sturm looked at Tanis in alarm at the noise.

  "Can't you get them to be quieter?" Tanis asked Bupu. "So the draconians-er-bosses won't find us."

  "Pooh!" She shrugged. "No bosses. They not come here. Afraid of the great Highbulp."

  Tanis had his doubts about that, but, glancing around, he couldn't see any signs of the draconians. From what he had observed, the lizardlike men seemed to lead a well-ordered, militaristic life. By contrast, the streets in this part of town were cluttered with trash and filth. The disreputable buildings erupted with gully dwarves. Males, females, and dirty, ragged children stared at them curiously as they walked down the street. Bupu and the other spellbound gully dwarves swarmed around Raistlin, practically carrying him.

  The draconians were undeniably smart, Tanis thought. They allowed their slaves to live their private lives in peace-so long as they didn't stir up trouble. A good idea, considering that gully dwarves out numbered draconians about ten to one.

  Though they were basically cowards, gully dwarves had a reputation as very nasty fighters when backed into a corner.

  Bupu brought the group to a halt in front of one of the darkest, dingiest, filthiest alleys Tanis had ever seen. A foul mist flowed out it. The buildings leaned over, holding each other up like drunks stumbling out of a tavern. As he watched, small dark creatures skittered out of the alley and gully dwarf children began chasing after them.

  "Dinner," shrieked one, smacking his lips.

  "Those are rats!" Goldmoon cried in horror.

  "Do we have to go in there?" Sturm growled, staring at the tottering buildings.

  "The smell alone is enough to knock a troll dead," Caramon added. "And I'd rather die under the dragon's claw than have a gully dwarf hovel fall on top of me."

  Bupu gestured down the alley. "The Highbulp!" she said, pointing to the most dilapidated building on the block.

  "Stay here and keep watch if you want," Tanis told Sturm.

  "I'll go talk with the Highbulp."

  "No." The knight scowled, gesturing the half-elf into the alley. "We're in this together."

  The alley ran several hundred feet to the east, then it twisted north and came suddenly to a dead end. Ahead of them was a decaying brick wall and no way out. Their return was blocked by gully dwarves who had run in after them.

  "Ambush!" Sturm hissed and drew his sword. Caramon began to rumble deep in his throat. The gully dwarves, seeing the Hash of cold steel, panicked. Falling all over themselves and each other, they whirled and fled back down the alley.

  Bupu glared at Sturm and Caramon in disgust. She turned to Raistlin. "You make them stop!" she demanded, pointing to the warriors. "Or I not take to Highbulp."

  "Put your sword away, knight," Raistlin hissed, "unless you think you've found a foe worthy of your attention."

  Sturm glowered at Raistlin, and for a moment Tanis thought he might attack the mage, but then the knight thrust his sword away. "I wish I knew what your game was, magician," Sturm said coldly. "You were so eager to come to this city, even before we knew about the Disks. Why? What are you after?"

  Raistlin did not reply. He stared at the knight malevolently with his strange golden eyes, then turned to Bupu. "They will not trouble you further, little one," he whispered.

  Bupu looked around to make certain they were properly cowed, then she walked forward and knocked twice on the wall with her grubby fist. "Secret door," she said importantly.

  Two knocks answered Bupu's knock.

  "That signal," she said. "Three knocks. Now they let in."

  "But she only knocked twice-" Tas began, giggling.

  Bupu glared at him.

  "Shhh!" Tanis nudged the kender.

  Nothing happened. Bupu, frowning, knocked twice more. Two knocks answered. She waited. Caramon, his eyes on the alley opening, began moving restlessly from one foot to the other. Bupu knocked twice again. Two knocks answered.

  Finally Bupu yelled at the wall. "I knock secret code knock. You let in!"

  "Secret knock five knocks," answered a muffled voice.

  "I knock five knocks!" Bupu stated angrily. "You let in!"

  "You knock six knocks."

  "I count eight knocks," argued another voice.

  Bupu suddenly pushed on the wall with both hands. It opened easily. She peered inside. "I knock four knocks. You let in!" she said, raising a clenched fist.

  "All right," the voice grumbled.

  Bupu shut the door, knocked twice. Tanis, hoping to avoid any more incidents and delays, glared at the kender who was writhing with suppressed laughter.

  The door swung open-again. "You come in," the guard said sourly. "But that not four knocks," he whispered to Bupu loudly. She ignored him as she swept disdainfully past him, dragging her bag along the floor.

  "We see Highbulp," she announced.

  "You take this lot to Highbulp?" One of the guards gasped, staring at the giant Caramon and the tall Riverwind with wide eyes. His companion began backing up.

  "See Highbulp," Bupu said proudly.

  The gully dwarf guard, never taking his eyes off the formidable-looking group, backed into a stinking, filthy hallway, then broke into a run. He began shouting at the top of his lungs. "An army! An army has broken in!" They could hear his shouts echo down the hallway.

  "Bah!" Bupu sniffed. "Glup-phunger spawn! Come. See Highbulp."

  She started down the hallway, clutching her bag to her chest. The companions could still hear the shouts of the gully dwarf echoing down the corridor.

  "An army! An army of giants! Save the Highbulp!"

  The great Highbulp, Phudge I, was a gully dwarf among gully dwarves. He was almost intelligent, rumored to be fabulously wealthy, and a notorious coward. The Bulps had long been the elite clan of Xak Tsaroth-or «Th» as they called it-ever since Nulph Bulp fell down a shaft one night in a drunken stupor and discovered the city. Upon sobering up the next morning, he claimed it for his clan. The Bulps promptly moved in and, in later years, graciously allowed the clans Slud and Giup to occupy the city as well.

  Life was good in the ruined city-by gully dwarf standards, anyway. The outside world left them alone (since the outside world hadn't the foggiest notion they were there and wouldn't have cared if it did). The Bulps had no trouble maintaining their dominance over the other clans, mostly because it was a Bulp (Glunggu) with a scientific turn of mind (certain jealous members of the Slud clan whispered that his mother had been a gnome) who developed the lift, putting to use the two enormous iron pots used by the city's former residents for rendering lard. The lift enabled the gully dwarves to extend their scavenging activities to the jungle above the sunken city-greatly improving their standard of living. Glunggu Bulp became a hero and was proclaimed Highbulp by unanimous decision.

  The chieftainship of the clans had remained in the Bulp family ever since.

  The years passed and then, suddenly, the outside world took an interest in Xak Tsaroth. The arrival of the dragon and the draconians put a sad crimp on the gully dwarf lifestyle. The draconians had initially intended to wipe out the filthy little nuisances, but the gully dwarves-led by the great Phudge-had cringed and cowered and whimpered and wailed and prostrated themselves so abjectly that the draconians were merciful and simply enslaved them.

  So it was that the gully dwarves-for the first time in several hundred years of living in Xak Tsaroth-were forced to work. The draconians repaired buildings, put things into military order, and generally made life miserable for the gully dwarves who had t
o cook and clean and repair things.

  Needless to say, the great Phudge was not pleased with this state of affairs. He spent long hours thinking up ways to remove the dragon. He knew the location of the dragon's lair, of course, and had even discovered a secret route leading there. He had actually sneaked in once, when the dragon was away. Phudge had been awestruck by the vast amount of pretty rocks and shining coins gathered in the huge underground room. The great Highbulp had traveled some in his wild youth and he knew that folk in the outside world coveted these pretty rocks and would give vast amounts of colorful and gaudy cloth (Phudge had a weakness for fine clothes) in return. On the spot, the Highbulp drew up a map so he wouldn't forget how to get back to the treasure. He even had the presence of mind to swipe a few of the smaller rocks.

  Phudge dreamed of this wealth for months afterwards, but he never found another opportunity to return. This was due to two factors: one, the dragon never left again and, two, Phudge couldn't make heads nor tails of his map.

  If only the dragon would leave permanently, he thought, or if some hero would come along and conveniently stick a sword into it! These were the Highbulp's fondest dreams, and this was the state of affairs when the great Phudge heard his guards proclaiming that an army was attacking.

  Thus it came to pass that-when Bupu finally dragged the great Phudge out from under his bed and convinced him that he was not about to be set upon by an army of giants-Highbulp Phudge I began to believe that dreams could come true.

  "And so you're here to kill the dragon," said the great Highbulp, Phudge I, to Tanis Half-Elven.

  "No," Tanis said patiently, "we're not."

  The companions stood in the Court of the Aghar before the throne of a gully dwarf Bupu had introduced as the great Highbulp. Bupu kept an eye on the companions as they entered the throne room, eagerly anticipating their looks of stunned awe. Bupu was not disappointed. The looks on the companions' faces as they entered might well be described as stunned.

  The city of Xak Tsaroth had been stripped of its finery by the early Bulps who used it to decorate the throne room of their lord. Following the philosophy that if one yard of gold cloth is good, forty yards is better, and totally uninhibited by good taste, the gully dwarves turned the throne room of the great Highbulp into a masterpiece of confusion. Heavy, frayed gold cloth swirled and draped every available inch of wall space.

  Huge tapestries hung from the ceiling (some of them upside-down). The tapestries must have once been beautiful, delicate-colored threads blending to show scenes of city life, or portray stories and legends from the past. But the gully dwarves, wanting to liven them up, painted over the cloth in garish, clashing colors. Thus Sturm was shocked to the core of his being when confronted by a bright red Huma battling a purple-spotted dragon beneath an emerald green sky.

  Graceful, nude statues, standing in all the wrong places, adorned the room as well. These, too, the gully dwarves had enhanced, considering pure white marble drab and depressing.

  They painted the statues with enough realism and attention to detail that Caramon-with an embarrassed glance at Goldmoon-flushed bright red and kept his eyes on the foor.

  The companions, in fact, had problems maintaining their serious mien when ushered into this gallery of artistic horrors. One failed utterly; Tasslehoff was immediately overcome by the giggles so severely that Tanis was forced to send the kender back to the Waiting Place outside the Court to try and compose himself. The rest of the group bowed solemnly to the great Phudge-with the exception of Flint who stood bolt upright, his hands fingering his battle-axe, without the trace of a smile on his aged face.

  The dwarf had laid his hand on Tanis's arm before they entered the court of the Highbulp. "Don't be taken in by this foolery, Tanis," Flint warned. "These creatures can be treacherous.

  The Highbulp was somewhat flustered when the companions entered, especially at the sight of the tall fighters. But Raistlin made a few well-chosen remarks that considerably mollified and reassured (if disappointed) the Highbulp.

  The mage, interrupted by fits of coughing, explained that they did not want to cause trouble, they simply planned to retrieve an object of religious value from the dragon's lair and leave, preferably without disturbing the dragon.

  This, of course, didn't fit in with Phudge's plans. He therefore assumed he hadn't heard correctly. Cocooned in gaudy robes, he leaned back in the chipped gold-leaf throne and repeated calmly, "You here. Got swords. Kill dragon."

  "No," said Tanis again. "As our friend, Raistlin, explained, the dragon is guarding an object that belongs to our gods. We want to remove the object and escape the city before the dragon is aware that it is gone."

  The Highbulp frowned. "How me know you not take all treasure, leave Highbulp only one mad dragon? There be lot of treasure-pretty rocks."

  Raistlin looked up sharply, his eyes gleaming. Sturm, fidgeting with his sword, glanced at the mage in disgust.

  "We will bring you the pretty rocks," Tanis assured the Highbulp. "Help us and you will get all the treasure. We want only to find this relic of our gods."

  It had become obvious to the Highbulp that he was dealing with thieves and liars, not the heroes he had expected. This group was apparently as frightened of the dragon as he was and that gave the Highbulp an idea. "What you want from Highbulp?" he asked, trying to subdue his glee and appear subtle.

  Tanis sighed in relief. At last they seemed to be getting somewhere. "Bupu"-he indicated the female gully dwarf clinging to Raistlin's sleeve-"told us that you were the only one in the city who could lead us to the dragon's lair."

  "Lead!" The great Phudge lost his composure for a moment and clutched his robes around him. "No lead! Great Highbulp not expendable. People need me!"

  "No, no. I didn't mean lead," Tanis amended hastily. "If you had a map or could send someone to show us the way."

  "Map!" Phudge mopped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his robe. "Should say so in first place. Map. Yes. I send for map. Meantime, you eat. Guests of the Highbulp. Guards take to mess hall."

  "No, thank you," Tanis said politely, unable to look at the others. They had passed the gully dwarf mess hall on their way to see the Highbulp. The smell alone had been enough to ruin even Caramon's appetite.

  "We have our own food," Tanis continued. "We would like some time to ourselves to rest and discuss our plans further."

  "Certainly." The Highbulp scooted forward to the front of the throne. Two of his guards came over to help him down since his feet didn't touch the floor. "Go back to Waiting Place. Sit. Eat. Talk. I send map. Maybe you tell Phudge plans?"

  Tanis glanced swiftly at the gully dwarf and saw the Highbulp's squinty eyes gleam with cunning. The half-elf felt cold, suddenly realizing this gully dwarf was no buffoon. Tanis began to wish he had talked more with Flint. "Our plans are hardly formed yet, your majesty," the half-elf said.

  The great Highbulp knew better. Long ago he had drilled a hole through the wall of the room known as Waiting Place so that he could eavesdrop on his subjects as they waited for an audience with him, discovering what they intended to bother him about in advance. Thus he knew a great deal about the companions' plans already, so he let the matter drop. The use of the term "your majesty" may have had something to do with this; the Highbulp had never heard anything quite so suitable.

  "Your majesty," Phudge repeated, sighing with pleasure. He poked one of his guards in the back. "You remember. From now on, say 'Your Majesty.»

  "Y-yes, y-your, uh, majesty," the gully dwarf stuttered. The great Phudge waved his filthy hand graciously and the companions bowed their way out. Highbulp, Phudge I, stood for a moment beside his throne, smiling in what he considered a charming manner until his guests were gone. Then his expression changed, transforming into a smile so shrewd and devious his guards crowded around him in eager anticipation.

  "You," he said to one. "Go to quarters. Bring map. Give to fools in next room."

  The guard saluted and ran off. The
other guard remained close, waiting in open-mouthed expectation. Phudge glanced around, then drew the guard even nearer, considering exactly how to phrase his next command. He needed some heroes and if he had to create his own out of whatever scum came along, then he would do so. If they died, it was no great loss. If they succeeded in killing the dragon, so much the better. The gully dwarves would get what was-to them-more precious than all the pretty rocks in Krynn: a return to the sweet, halcyon days of freedom! And so, enough of this nonsense about sneaking around.

  Phudge leaned over and whispered in the guard's ear. "You go to dragon. Give her best regards of his majesty, Highbulp, Phudge I, and tell her…»

  20

  The Highbulp’s map. The spellbook of Fistandantilus

  I don't trust that little bastard any farther than I can stand the smell of him," Caramon growled.

  "I agree," Tanis said quietly. "But what choice do we have? We've agreed to bring him the treasure. He has everything to lose and nothing to gain if he betrays us."

  They sat on the floor in the Waiting Place, a filthy antechamber outside the throne room. The decorations in this room were just as vulgar as in the Court. The companions were nervous and tense, speaking little and forcing themselves to eat.

  Raistlin refused food. Curled up on the floor apart from the others, he prepared and drank down the strange herbal mixture that eased his cough. Then he wrapped himself in his robes and stretched out, eyes closed, on the floor. Bupu sat curled up near him, munching on something from her bag. Caramon, going over to check on his brother, was horrified to see a tail disappear into her mouth with a slurp.

  Riverwind sat by himself. He did not take part in the hushed conversation as the friends went over their plans once again.

  The Plainsman stared moodily at the floor. When he felt a light touch on his arm, he didn't even lift his head. Goldmoon, her face pale, knelt beside him. She tried to speak, failed, the cleared her throat.