“I don’t know what to do,” he said after a moment when he had his voice back. “But if we’re going to get out of this, it’s up to all of us.” Reaching out to his brothers, Palin hugged each of them unashamedly. “We’re together, and that counts for much. Somehow, we’ll make this come out right!”
Glancing over at the dwarf, Palin was disconcerted to find Dougan regarding him with a wolfish leer on the black-bearded face. The dwarf didn’t say anything aloud but, giving Palin a wink, he formed words with his lips.
“Wanna bet?”
Chapter Six
Castle Bargath
It was nearing sundown when they reached the outer walls of Castle Gargath. The walls shifted aspect just like the castle. Sometimes they appeared to be built of bricks. When the group looked again, however, they were hedges, then iron bars. The change was so rapid that it made one dizzy to watch.
On reaching the base of the shifting walls, the warriors left them, despite another recruiting speech from Tanin. The speech was a halfhearted attempt at best. The fact that he was giving it practically naked lessened his enthusiasm, plus he was fairly certain it was bound to fail. Nonetheless, he made the attempt.
“Come with us! Show this evil lord that you are men! That you intend to stand up to him and fight! Show him you are willing to risk your lives in defense of your homes!”
Sure enough, the speech had not worked. The moment the shadow of the shifting castle walls fell over them, the warriors backed away, looking up at it in terror. Shaking their heads and muttering, they fled back into the jungle.
“At least leave us your spears?” Sturm pleaded.
That didn’t work either.
“They need their spears,” Tanin said, “to make certain we don’t hightail it back to the ship.”
“Aye, you’re right, lad,” said Dougan, peering into the trees. “They’re out there, watching us. And there they’ll stay until—” He stopped.
“Until what?” Palin demanded coldly. He could still see the dwarf’s leer and hear the unspoken words, and he shivered in the jungle heat.
“Until they’re certain we’re not coming back. Right?” Sturm said.
“Now, laddie, we’ll be coming back,” Dougan said soothingly, stroking his beard. “After all, you have me with you. And we’re comrades—”
“Share and share alike,” Tanin and Sturm both said grumpily.
“The first thing we have to do is make some weapons,” Tanin continued. Thick jungle vegetation grew all around them. Strange-looking trees of various types, festooned with hanging vines and brightly colored flowers, grew right up to within a foot of the wall. And there the vegetation stopped. “Not even plants come near this place,” he muttered. “Palin, give me your knife.”
“Good idea,” said the young mage. “I’d forgotten about it.” Rolling up his white sleeve, Palin fumbled at the dagger in its cunning leather thong, which held it to his forearm and was supposed to—at a flick of its owner’s wrist—release the dagger and allow it to drop into Palin’s hand. But the cunning thong was apparently more cunning that its master, for Palin couldn’t get the dagger loose.
“Here,” he said, flushing in embarrassment and holding out his arm to Tanin, “you get it.”
Keeping his smile carefully concealed, Tanin managed to free the dagger, which he and Sturm used to cut off tree branches. These they honed into crude spears, working rapidly. Day was dying a lingering death, the light fading from the sky, leaving it a sickly gray color.
“Do you know anything of this Lord Gargath?” Tanin asked Dougan as he worked, whittling the point of the green stick sharp.
“No,” said the dwarf, watching in disapproval. He refused to either make or carry a wooden spear. “A fine sight I’d look if I’m killed, standing before Reorx with a stick in my hand! Naw, I need no weapon but my bare hands!” the dwarf snarled. Now he was rubbing his chin, pacing back and forth beneath the strange walls that were now made of shining black marble. “I know nothing of this present Lord Gargath, save what I could find out from those cowards.” Dougan waved his hand contemptuously at the long-gone warriors.
“What do they say?”
“That he is what you might expect of someone who has been under the influence of the Graygem for years!” Dougan said, eyeing Tanin irritably. “He is a wild man! Capable of great good or great evil, as the mood—or the gem—sways him. Some say,” the dwarf added in low tones, switching his gaze to Palin, “that he is a wizard, a renegade, granting his allegiance to neither white, nor black, nor red. He lives only for himself—and the gem.”
Shivering, Palin gripped his staff more tightly. Renegade mages refused to follow the laws and judgments of the Conclave of Wizards, laws that had been handed down through the centuries in order to keep magic alive in a world where it was despised and distrusted. All wizards, those who followed both the paths of good and of evil, subscribed to these laws. Renegades were a threat to everyone and, as such, their lives were forfeit.
It would be Palin’s duty, as a mage of the White Robes, to try to reclaim the renegade or, if that failed, to trap him and bring him to the conclave for justice. It would be a difficult task for a powerful wizard of the White Robes, much less an apprentice mage. Those of the Black Robes had it easier. “You, my uncle, would have simply killed him,” Palin murmured in a low voice, leaning his cheek against his staff.
“What do you think he’s done with the women?” Sturm asked anxiously.
The dwarf shrugged. “Used them for his pleasure, tossed them into the volcano, sacrificed them in some unholy magic rite. How should I know?”
“Well, we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be, I guess,” Tanin said heavily, gathering up a handful of spears. “These look like toys,” he muttered. “Maybe the dwarf’s right. If we’re facing an evil wizard gone berserk, we might as well die fighting with dignity instead of like some kid playing at knights and goblins.”
“A weapon’s a weapon, Tanin,” Sturm said matter-of-factly, taking a spear in his hand. “At least it gives us some advantage.…”
The three brothers and the dwarf approached the wall that was still changing its aspect so often it made them dizzy to watch it.
“I don’t suppose there’s any point trying to find a secret way in,” Tanin said.
“By the time we found it, it’d likely be turning into the front door,” Dougan agreed. “If we wait here long enough, there’s bound to be an opening.”
Sure enough, but not exactly the opening any of them anticipated.
One moment they were looking at a wall of solid stone (“Dwarvish make,” remarked Dougan, admiringly), then it changed to a wall of water, thundering down around them out of nowhere, soaking them with its spray.
“We can get through this, I think!” Sturm cried above the noise of the waterfall. “I can see through it! The castle’s on the other side!”
“Yes, and there’s likely to be a chasm on the other side as well!” Tanin returned.
“Wait,” said Palin. “Shirak!” He spoke the magic word to the staff and instantly the faceted crystal globe on top burst into light.
“Ah, I wish the chief had seen that!” said the dwarf wistfully.
Palin thrust the staff into the water, simply with the idea of being able to see something beyond it. To his amazement, however, the water parted the instant the staff touched it. Flowing down around the staff, it formed an archway that they could walk through, safe and dry.
“I’ll be damned!” Tanin said in awe. “Did you know it would do that, Little Brother?”
“No,” Palin admitted shakily, wondering what other powers Raistlin had invested into the staff.
“Well, thank Paladine it did,” Sturm said, peering through the hole in the water. “All safe over here,” he reported, stepping through. “In fact,” he added as Palin and Tanin and Dougan—with a wide-eyed gaze of longing at the staff—followed, “it’s grass!” Sturm, in wonderment, looked around in the gray gloom by th
e light of the staff. Behind them, the water changed again, this time to a wall of bamboo. Ahead of them stretched a long, smooth sward that rose up a gentle slope, leading to the castle itself.
“Now it’s grass, but it’s liable to change into a lava pit any moment,” Palin pointed out.
“You’re right, Little Brother,” Tanin grunted. “We’d better run for it.”
Run they did, Palin hiking up his white robes, the stout dwarf huffing and puffing along about three steps behind. Whether they truly made their destination before the sward had time to change into something more sinister or whether the sward was always a sward, they never knew. At any rate, they reached the castle wall just as night’s black shadows closed in on them, and they were still standing on smooth, soft grass.
“Now all we need,” said Sturm, “is a way inside—”
The blank wall of gray marble shimmered in the staff’s light, and a small wooden door appeared, complete with iron hinges and an iron lock.
Hurrying forward, Tanin rugged at the lock.
“Bolted fast,” he reported.
“Just when a kender would come in handy,” Sturm said with a sigh.
“Kender! Bite your tongue!” Dougan muttered in disgust.
“Palin, try the staff,” Tanin ordered, standing aside.
Hesitantly, Palin touched the brilliantly glowing crystal of the staff to the lock. The lock not only gave way, but it actually melted, forming a puddle of iron at Palin’s feet.
“Lad,” said the dwarf, swallowing, “your uncle must have been a remarkable man. That’s all I can say.”
“I wonder what else it can do?” Palin stared at the staff with a mixture of awe, pride, and frustration.
“We’ll have to worry about that later! Inside,” said Tanin, yanking open the door. “Sturm, you go first. Palin follow him. We’ll use your staff for light. The dwarf and I’ll be right behind you.”
They found themselves crowded together on a flight of narrow, winding stairs that spiraled upward. Walls surrounded them on all sides, and they could see nothing save the stairs vanishing into darkness.
“You realize,” said Palin suddenly, “that the door will—” Whirling around, he shone the light of the staff on a blank wall.
“Disappear,” finished Tanin grimly.
“There goes our way out!” Shuddering, Sturm looked around. “These stairs could change! Any moment, we could be encased in solid rock!”
“Keep moving!” ordered Tanin urgently.
Running up the steep stairs as fast as they could, expecting to find themselves walking on anything from hot coals to a swinging bridge, they climbed up and up until, at last, the stout dwarf could go no farther.
“I’ve got to rest, lads,” Dougan said, panting, leaning against a stone wall that was, unaccountably, remaining a stone wall.
“Nothing inside seems to be changing,” Palin gasped, weary himself from the unaccustomed exercise. He looked with envy at his brothers. Their bronze-skinned, muscular bodies gleamed in the staff’s light. Neither was even breathing hard.
“Palin, shine the light up here!” Sturm ordered, peering ahead.
His legs aching so that he thought he could never move them again, Palin forced himself to take another step, shining the staff’s light around a corner of the stairwell.
“There’s a door!” Sturm said softly, in triumph. “We’ve reached the top!”
“I wonder what’s beyond it,” Tanin said darkly.
He was interrupted by, of all things, a giggle. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” called a laughing voice from the other side of the door. “It’s not locked.”
The brothers looked at each other. Dougan frowned. Palin forgot his aching body, forcing himself to concentrate on his spellcasting. Tanin’s face tightened and his jaw muscles clenched. Gripping his spear, he thrust his way past Dougan and Palin to stand beside Sturm.
Cautiously, both warriors put their hands on the door.
“One, two, three,” Sturm counted in a whisper.
On the count of three, he and Tanin threw their combined weight against the door, knocking it open and leaping through, spears at the ready. Palin ran after them, his hands extended, a spell of fire on his lips. Behind him, he could hear the dwarf roaring.
They were greeted with peals of merry laughter.
“Did you ever see,” came the giggling voice, “such cute legs?”
The mist of battle rage clearing from his eyes, Palin stared around blankly. He was surrounded, literally, by what must have been hundreds of women. Beside him, he heard Sturm’s sharp intake of breath, and he saw, dimly, Tanin lower his spear in confusion. From somewhere on the floor at his feet, he heard Dougan swearing, the dwarf having tripped over the stoop in his charge and fallen flat on his face. But Palin was too stunned, staring at his captors, to pay any attention to him.
An incredibly gorgeous, dark-haired and dark-eyed beauty approached Tanin. Putting her hand on his spear, she gently pushed it to one side. Her eyes lingered appreciatively on the young man’s strong body, most of which—due to the loincloth—was on exhibit.
“My, my,” said the young woman in a sultry voice, “did you know it was my birthday?”
More laughter sounded through the vast stone hall like the chiming of many bells.
“Just—just stay back,” Tanin ordered gruffly, raising his spear and keeping the woman at bay.
“Well, of course,” she said, raising her hands in mock terror. “If that’s what you really want.”
Tanin, his eyes still on the dark-haired beauty, fell back a pace to stand beside Palin. “Little Brother,” he whispered, beads of sweat on his upper lip and trickling down his forehead, “are these women enchanted? Under some sort of spell?”
“N-no,” stammered Palin, staring around him. “They … they don’t appear to be. I don’t sense any kind of magic, other than the force of the Graygem. It’s much stronger here, but that’s because we’re closer to it.”
“Lads,” said the dwarf urgently, scrambling to his feet and thrusting himself between them, “we’re in big trouble.”
“We are?” Tanin asked dubiously, still holding the spear in front of him and noticing that Sturm was doing likewise. “Explain yourself, dwarf!” he growled. “What do you know about these women? They certainly don’t appear to be prisoners! Are they banshees, vampires? What?”
“Worse,” gasped the dwarf, mopping his face with his beard, his eyes staring wildly at the laughing, pointing females. “Lads, think! We’re the first to enter this castle! These women probably haven’t seen a man in two years!”
Chapter Seven
Our Heroes
Surrounded by hundreds of admiring women reaching out to touch them and fondle them, the confused and embarrassed “rescuers” were captured by kindness. Laughing and teasing them, the women led the brothers and the dwarf from the vast entry hall to a smaller room in the castle, a room filled with silken wall hangings and large, comfortable silk-covered couches. Before they knew quite what was happening, the men were being shoved down among the cushions by soft hands, the women offering them wine, sumptuous food, and delicacies of all sorts … all sorts.
“I think it’s sweet, you came all this way to rescue us,” purred one of the women, leaning against Sturm and running her hand over his shoulder. Long blond hair fell down her bare arm. She wore it tucked behind one ear, held back by a flower. Her gown, made of something gray and filmy, left very little to the imagination.
“All in a day’s work,” said Sturm, smiling. “We’re going to be made Knights of Solamnia, you know,” he added conversationally. “Probably for doing this very deed.”
“Really? Tell me more.”
But the blonde wasn’t the least bit interested in the knights. She wasn’t even listening to Sturm, Palin realized, watching his brother with growing irritation. The big warrior was rambling on somewhat incoherently about the Oath and the Measure, all the while fondling the silky blond hair a
nd gazing into blue eyes.
Palin was ill at ease. The young mage felt a burning in his blood; his head buzzed—not an unusual sensation around such lovely, seductive females. He felt no desire for these women, however. They were strangely repulsive to him. It was the magic he sensed, burning within him. He wanted to concentrate on it, on his feeling of growing power. Thrusting aside a doe-eyed beauty who was trying to feed him grapes, Palin inched his way among the cushions to get nearer to Sturm, who was enjoying the attentions of the attractive blonde to the fullest.
“Sturm, what are you doing? This could be a trap, an ambush!” Palin said in an undertone.
“Lighten up for once, Little Brother,” Sturm said mildly, putting his arm around the blonde and drawing her close. “Here, I’ll put your mind at ease. Tell me,” he said, kissing the blonde’s rosy lips, “is this an ambush?”
“Yes!” She giggled, wriggling closer. “You’re under attack, right now.”
“There you are, Palin. No help for it. We’re surrounded.” Sturm kissed the girl’s neck. “I surrender,” he said softly, “unconditionally.”
“Tanin?” Alarmed, Palin looked to his oldest brother for help, and was relieved to see the serious young man getting to his feet, despite all efforts of the dark-haired beauty to drag him back down beside her. The dwarf, too, was doing his best to escape.
“Get away! Leave me be, woman!” Dougan roared, slapping at the hands of a lithesome girl. Struggling up from among the cushions, the red-faced dwarf turned to face the women.
“What about Lord Gargath? Where is he?” the dwarf demanded. “Using you women to seduce us, then capture us, no doubt?”
“Lord Gargath? Hardly!” The dark-haired beauty who had been making much of Tanin laughed, as did the other women in the room. Shrugging her lovely shoulders, she glanced at the ceiling. “He’s up there … somewhere,” she said without interest, caressing Tanin’s bare chest. The big man shoved her away, glancing nervously about the room.
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