Hederick, The Theocrat (d-4)

by Ellen Dodge Severson

  "Sure, but we had to kill… how many beasts, Tarscen shy;ian? Half-dozen goblins and hobgoblins?"

  "About that," Tarscenian said offhandedly. Even though his knees were trembling from the strain he'd been through, he forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply. He stood there, pretending he was no more winded than a young man would be, and shrugged

  casually.

  "It's over now," Tarscenian said. "I want Gaveley's answer. "Will you and your ring help me steal the Dia shy;mond Dragon from Hederick?"

  The half-elf looked at Tarscenian across the crystal rim of a wine goblet. Gaveley was dressed with his usual flair, this time in scarlet leather breeches and black silk shirt, a white silk scarf knotted at his slender throat. He was smiling, but his tilted hazel eyes hinted danger. "I've reviewed your request, old man," he whispered. "I believe we will pass it by."

  There was a short pause before Mynx exploded in protest. "Why, Gav? Stealing the thing would be a great way to get Hederick's goat! You hate him; we all do. He's killing our business. With taxes so high, no one has anything worthwhile to steal. Why not go along with Tarscenian? I'd help him steal it, and you all know I'm the best thief here. This dragon thing's worth a fortune!" She looked at each of the three thieves in turn. "We all could practically retire," she finished, trying to make a

  joke.

  Gaveley snarled. "It's my decision, Mynx. Accept it or leave." Xam and Snoop nodded in tandem. Tarscenian frowned, his gray gaze flicking from Gaveley to Mynx.

  Mynx looked startled. "Leave? But I grew up in this ring, Gav."

  "And I taught you from the start that in Gaveley's ring…"

  ".. . Gaveley's word is law," she finished. She pulled her helm from her head, and pushed her hand back through her newly blond hair. She looked at Tarscenian. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "I won't go against the group. I don't dare."

  Tarscenian's expression didn't change. "Like the slaves," he whispered. "What did you call them, Mynx- sheep?"

  "That's not fair," she flared. "It's not the same thing at all!"

  "Isn't it?" Wordless, Tarscenian bowed slightly to Gaveley, then moved the statue of the harpist as he'd seen the others do, and left. He managed to look digni shy;fied despite his angry feelings and beggarly disguise.

  "Go out the back," Gaveley rasped at Snoop. "Keep him in sight but don't let him see you. If the temple guards accost him within Erolydon, make as if you're delivering him to Hederick. Then at least we'll get the bounty, if not the Diamond Dragon. We can always steal that later."

  "And if he gets the Diamond Dragon?"

  "Steal it from him," Gaveley whispered. "Then kill him. Present the old man's head to Hederick. Then we'll still get the bounty."

  Mynx leaped up. "Gaveley!" She tore at his arm. "What happened to honor? You were always so proud that you were more honorable than the rich people. Remember, Gav?"

  He shoved her away. "I'm a thief, Mynx. And I'm not human. What use to me is a human idea like honor?"

  "But… but elves have honor, too," she stammered.

  "Neither elves nor humans recognize my noble lin shy;eage," he spat. "Better to throw in my lot with someone who at least will give me some money, if not respect."

  She stared at him, then at Xam, who was watching the exchange from the back doorway. Her gaze, now dis shy;gusted, went back to the half-elf. "You've gone in with Hederick, Gav? Is that it? After we decided not to?"

  "You decided not to, Mynx," Gaveley whispered. "The rest of us…"

  Mynx turned to Xam. The bounty-hunter shrugged. "It's a job," he said. "Hederick's no worse than anyone

  else we've worked for, Mynx." The big man's eyes took on a pleading look, like a dog's. "Honest, Mynx. It's bet shy;ter to go in with us on this."

  "But Hederick is crazy," she whispered. "Tarscenian is … is good."

  "Since when do thieves care about good?" Gaveley whispered. He motioned to Xam, who lumbered across the room toward Mynx.

  "I'm sorry, Mynx," the large man said. "There's a reward for you, too. A small one, but every bit counts these days."

  "A reward?" Her voice cracked. She took a step back shy;ward and found herself pinioned by the half-elf.

  "Hederick doesn't like it when people refuse his offers," Gaveley snapped in her ear. "Xam, we have work to do. Take care of her."

  Her mind screamed for her to struggle, to run, but her body refused to obey. She merely watched, stunned, as Xam raised a meaty hand. He was a bounty-hunter, skilled at subduing his quarry. The blow struck the side of her neck. Her knees buckled, and she fell unconscious to the floor.

  A short time later, Kifflewit crept through the back entrance of the thieves' den, busy hands replacing his lockpicking tools in one of his pouches. "Certainly dark in here," he whispered to himself. "Maybe Mynx is sleeping."

  He'd seen Gaveley, then Xam and Snoop, and finally Mynx and Tarscenian enter the den. All but Mynx had emerged. Kifflewit wanted one last look at the splendors of Gaveley's den before he left Solace. The temple guards, still failing to show any sign of humor, had been dogging his steps. He'd managed to keep away from them, but even a kender grows tired of some games.

  Mynx had been adamant about keeping him out of the thieves' den, the kender remembered. But if she were sleeping . . . Kifflewit brightened. Perhaps he could sneak a peek without waking her up.

  "Surely one small light won't disturb her sleep," he reassured himself. Still standing in the doorway, he felt in his pockets for steel and flint, and scraped some lint from the bottom of a pocket. The first time he struck stone and steel together, he heard an immediate groan in the darkness before him and jumped. The steel went clat shy;tering away into the darkness. Another groan. Had he awakened Mynx?

  Kifflewit felt in his pockets, one by one, for more steel. His slender fingers found nothing helpful until he reached into one particular pocket. Light streamed from the pocket-sparkly, swirling light. "How pretty!" he breathed. His restless fingers drew out the Diamond Dragon. It was just the size of his hand. He'd never seen it in the dark before, and the artifact was all aglow. He could barely see the outline of the dragon, the diamonds glittered so brightly.

  "It must be magical!" he said softly.

  Another groan resounded through the den. Kifflewit raised the Diamond Dragon above his head and stepped carefully inside. The artifact's glow bathed him in light.

  "Perhaps it's not Mynx," he whispered. "Perhaps it's a really interesting monster." He'd heard about plenty of beasts that lived underground. Some cave crawlers were even poisonous. He wondered what it would feel like to be eaten alive. If the thing ate the Diamond Dragon along with him, would he be able to see the crawler's insides? That would be something! Mmmmmmnnfjf?

  "You! Are you a cave crawler?" he shouted. Mmmmmmnnjff?

  * * * * *

  "Mynx?"

  Mmmmmmnnfff.

  If one muffled Mmmmmmnnfff! could convey rage, frustration, and fear, this one did. It was sounding less and less like a cave crawler, Kifflewit Burrthistle thought. He shuffled forward in the darkness, holding the Dia shy;mond Dragon higher in order to cast the largest possible circle of light.

  Then a tousled head of blond hair, angry brown eyes, and a gagged mouth came into view.

  "Mynx? Why do you look like that? Why's your hair yellow? I liked it dark. And why are you wearing armor? Aren't you a thief anymore? Are you a mercenary now?"

  Mmmmmmnnfff1.

  He held the Diamond Dragon close to her furious face. "See? I found this in the temple. Isn't it pretty?"

  Mynx stared daggers at him. The kender's eyes were wide and innocent. "What's the matter?" he asked.

  MMMunnnpie mmmmmmeeee, mooooo mbiddllle pfoool! came through the gag.

  "You're awfully hard to understand with that rag …" Kifflewit set to work loosening the restraint, while Mynx continued to gnash at the cloth with her teeth. The kender chattered merrily on. "The High Theocrat mustn't care much for this dragon thing or he wouldn't have let it lie ar
ound. I think I'm doing him a favor by taking care of it, don't you?"

  The gag was gone. "You idiot!" Mynx cried. "That's the Diamond Dragon!"

  The kender blinked. "Well, sure."

  "Tarscenian thinks Hederick still has it!"

  "Oh. Well, there's nothing to worry about. It's safe with me."

  "Untie me, you little fool," she snapped.

  "You don't have to be rude. After all. .." He reached over Mynx to her hip, plucked Tarscenian's dagger from her sheath, and, still talking animatedly, severed the cord that bound her wrists and ankles.

  Mynx's mind raced. Tarscenian had no clue that the thieves were after him. And of course he had no idea that the kender possessed the Diamond Dragon.

  Kifflewit Burrthistle prattled on, dangling the Dia shy;mond Dragon in front of Mynx's face as though it were some mere bauble. The glow caught her attention. For a moment Mynx forgot everything but the radiance that came from within the precious stones. Suddenly every shy;thing made sense. Tarscenian wasn't after this thing in order to sell it, she realized. He was going to use its mag shy;ical powers against Hederick.

  She had to take the artifact to him before he tried to get inside the temple. Only then would he have a chance against the High Theocraf s forces and Gav's thieves.

  "Give me that, kender!" she shouted, lunging for the artifact.

  Kifflewit squealed, "It's mine! I found it!"

  Kender and human hands fought for possession of the Diamond Dragon.

  "Tarscenian needs it!"

  "But I found it!" the kender howled.

  "He could defeat Hederick!"

  "No fair! It's mine!"

  They tussled on the carpet. The Diamond Dragon see shy;sawed back and forth. The artifact spat tiny bolts of lightning around the den, burning holes in the tapestries. It began to hum. Neither woman nor kender realized what was happening; the object they were fighting over had become a glowing ball of steel-cold fire.

  "Tarscenian needs it!"

  "I found it!"

  "It could stop the Seekers!"

  "It's mine!"

  Szzzzezmetoffffalgolorum!

  The loud, strange sound came from the Diamond Dragon itself. The kender let go and fell back, brown eyes agog. Mynx crowed triumphantly, cradling the tro shy;phy to her breast. She stroked it, exulting in its posses shy;sion. She would find Tarscenian… Szzzzezmetoffff algolorum!

  The second burst of sound and light penetrated Mynx's triumph. Magic-from the thing itself? Sudden terror drenched her. She tried to throw the Diamond Dragon away from her. It refused to let go.

  The Diamond Dragon clung to her hands, humming louder. There was no pain-only a coldness that extended from her hands up through her elbows.

  And then she realized that her hands were inside the artifact. Even as she watched, the Diamond Dragon absorbed more of her. She could see her hands, then her wrists and forearms, moving frantically inside the thing. She still could control her movements, but her hands were shrinking. She placed one booted foot and then the other against the thing, to brace herself and wrench her arms free.

  Then her feet were sucked in, too. "Kifflewit!" Mynx shouted. "Help me!" But the kender could only gape at her, wide-eyed. The coldness shot like a catapult up her arms and legs. It froze her torso and reached her head. And then she was inside the Diamond Dragon. Smooth crystal curved around her, impervious to her pounding and kicking. Mynx raged within the dragon as the kender stared at the thing from without. She was miniature enough now, within the artifact, to stand in Kifflewit's hand. Clearly he could see her tiny figure dancing inside the Diamond Dragon. Couldn't he? She could hear the kender. Could he hear her? Mynx cried out, but Kifflewit merely gazed at the Diamond Dragon from every angle. He picked it up, shook it-throwing Mynx to her knees-and put it down again. "I wonder where she went?" the kender said softly. "What a terrific trick!" He glanced around, as though he might find Mynx peering out from under a table or set shy;tee.

  Inevitably, the kender's attention wandered, and he abandoned the artifact on the carpet as he poked through the den. Gaveley's den had numerous gems and objects of special interest to a glitter-loving kender. AH went into his pouches and pockets.

  Then Mynx and the artifact that imprisoned her were snatched up and tucked back in a bulging kender pocket, too. She could sense movement; Kifflewit was scamper shy;ing off somewhere. Mynx sat down on the curved crystal floor of the Diamond Dragon to avoid falling again.

  She rested her head on her arms. "Oh, Tarscenian," she whispered. "You're heading into danger for noth shy;ing." Here she was, trapped within the only object that could help him, and she couldn't do a thing.

  She rode for some time in Kifflewit's pocket, hearing only the muffled sounds of the market and occasional yelps from angry guards. Twice the kender began to run and continued until the shouting died away.

  Then a new voice spoke, quite near. "Ah, 'tis thee, small one. What dost thou want of me? I am in haste. I have no time to stop and natter with thee, yet thou saved my life back at the temple. What dost thou want, kender?"

  It was the centaur she'd seen in the refugee section, Mynx realized.

  "The guards are after me," came Kifflewit's stifled reply. "I need to hitch a ride out of Solace."

  "Small one, that I can grant thee, in gratitude for thy service. I am bound for my home glade, to apprise my people of the coming danger."

  Mynx braced herself against the insides of the Dia shy;mond Dragon as Kifflewit Burrthistle clambered up onto the centaur's back. The man-horse settled into the rock shy;ing gait that could cover many leagues, seemingly with shy;out great effort.

  The centaur and Kifflewit soon left Solace far behind.

  Chapter 17

  As Tarscenian worked his tray back through Solace, he regularly stooped and held out his bowl to passers-by.

  "Alms?" he would quaver from the depths of his hood, detesting the pitiable tone he had to adopt. The slow pace galled him, too. He wanted nothing more than to throw off his beggar's cloak, yank the tufts of hair from their glued moorings, and race into Erolydon with sword drawn to challenge Hederick directly. "Directly and honestly," he muttered.

  Solace's residents sidestepped the surly beggar with neither word nor offer of aid.

  Tarscenian's disguise was holding up well. Hederick's goblins and guards didn't give him a second look. He slunk past a few more sword-carrying hobgoblins and caught enough of their garbled words to realize that the slave caravan had left Solace without further incident. Tarscenian forced himself to focus on the task at hand- to find Hederick, who rarely left Erolydon, and steal the Diamond Dragon or die in the effort. But how to enter the temple?

  Twice Tarscenian felt suddenly uneasy, as though he were being observed. Each time, he paused to fumble in his cloak, mumbling and weaving as though he were daft or physically ill. The gray eyes hidden in the shad shy;owed cloak missed little, but Tarscenian saw no evidence that guards, goblins, or anyone else scrutinized him. There were only the usual late-afternoon refugees and excited pilgrims, brown-robed priests and the sellers of temple offerings, and dozens of common people. Down below he saw farmers unloading barrels from wagons, and a half-dozen fishermen and women hawking Crys-talmir bass and perch from tub-laden carts with huge wooden wheels.

  He paused to catch his breath. He was showing signs of increasing fatigue. Sometimes it seemed as though his mind were whirling in circles. He'd had no time to study the little magic he knew, and the spells he'd used in the previous days were long gone from his memory.

  Then Tarscenian raised his eyebrows and forced his brain to clear. He had no difficulty making himself sag into an even more beggarly stance.

  There was one stairway within sight. And at the bot shy;tom of the steps that twined around the nearest vallen-wood, Dahos, Hederick's high priest, stood behind the fishmongers. The high priest surveyed the scene with an air of proprietorship. It wasn't only the tall priest who caught Tarscenian's eye, but the ring on his right hand
. Tarscenian squinted, leaning over the railing of the walk shy;way.

  Dahos wore the death's-head ring.

  I stole it. Mynx gave Dahos's ring to Gaveley last night, he thought. And now Dahos has it back.

  That meant one thing: the half-elf had done more than turn down Tarscenian's proposal.

  Gaveley had sold him out to Hederick's forces.

  Tarscenian glanced behind him, starting to edge back shy;ward as Dahos, with a jerk of his head, summoned a blue-uniformed captain. The high priest bent down to speak quietly to the man. The captain nodded, saluting crisply. The captain hustled over to a pair of goblins.

  Tarscenian paused. Then he sank to his knees and pre shy;tended to look for something on the walkway. His hands plunged into his cloak to search through his pouches.

  "Hurry, hurry," he whispered to himself. Soon he was using blood-red sand to outline a fish on the boards of the walkway. Another fish, the size of his hand, joined the first, and then another. "Pesqi d'armotage, oberit getere," he murmured. A shout rang out below. Tarscen shy;ian hurried to finish. "Getilin ornest gadillio dehist."

  "There he is! Up there!" a man's voice shouted from below.

  "Pesqi d'armotage, oberit getere. Getilin ornest gadillio dehist!" Tarscenian finished the chant, then used both hands to whirl the sand figures into oblivion. The guards' shouts below turned into oaths as Tarscenian's spell overturned six carts full of slippery fish and water between the guards and their prey.

  Most of Dahos's men lost their footing amid the flop shy;ping fish and cursed loudly. A few goblins, unhampered by hard footwear, made it to the steps. But Tarscenian was already on his feet and racing away to the north.

  After several months of Seeker reign, Solace residents were used to fugitives fleeing along the wooden walks in front of their treetop homes. They stayed invisible behind their doors, assisting no one.

  This walkway connected with another. Tarscenian chose the path that would take him northwest toward the lake. This area contained only homes, no shops or open markets. It was deserted now. Ropes were laced from branch to branch, many of them draped with dry shy;ing clothes.