Treachery's wake dad-6

by T. H. Lain

  "Cover me," Vadania hissed as she let go of her sling and began casting a spell of her own.

  Mialee fired with abandon, more interested in keeping the gnolls off guard than in scoring a hit. She fired time and again, raining a rapid barrage of arrows on the creatures. Gnolls scattered for cover as the hail of arrows whistled and clattered all around them.

  Mialee heard the familiar scrape of a blade being drawn as Vadania stepped forth, brandishing the scimitar that she favored for close combat. In the center of the camp, a pair of wolves appeared. They burst into a tangle of gnolls, tearing through the creatures with their fangs.

  Vadania ran toward the camp. "Lets go," she hollered, "the wolves are a strong distraction, but they won't last long."

  She raised her weapon and charged into the fray.

  Mialee fired a volley of magical bolts at the nearest gnoll. The glowing spears burned through the creature's thick fur and bit the soft flesh beneath. She watched as Vadania advanced, distracting a gnoll with a jet of flame from her palm before catching it across the cheek with her sword. The creature fell back, caught between its fear of magic and the harsh reality of steel. Vadania grabbed its arm as it turned, sending the blazing fire up its length. The gnoll fell to the ground screaming as its fur burst into flame.

  Mialee plunged into the battle, loosing another round of magical spears as she went.

  Malthooz heard the dull thud of arrows striking trees. He leaped to the side as one grazed past his ear. All around him he heard the buzz of missiles passing through the air.

  "You'll be cut to shreds up there," Lidda said.

  She grabbed his leg and yanked him down.

  This was not at all what he expected. Things were happening too fast for him to deal with. He watched Krusk sprint from the edge of the forest. The barbarian moved directly on the closest pair of gnolls. The monsters dropped their bows and drew long swords as he rushed them, but before the blades could clear their sheaths, Krusk was upon them. The first gnoll went down soundlessly, sliced nearly in half at the waist. The second, having a moment more to react, squared off with Krusk, its sword raised against the barbarian's blows.

  The woods filled with the sound of combat. The clash of steel on steel rang in Malthooz's ears as more arrows sailed over him. He held his club at his side. Sweat from his palm made the weapon hard to grasp. Beside him, Lidda was training her crossbow on the melee. Malthooz searched the woods for more danger. Shadows from the trees seemed to move and shift, taking on the appearance of moving foes.

  Back in the clearing, Krusk and the gnoll were locked in combat. Malthooz watched as the two shifted back and forth. He winced as he watched the monster's sword cut a gash in the barbarian's leg.

  Mialee and Vadania joined Krusk, moving into view from their spot at the edge of the clearing. Malthooz's head spun with the fury of the scene. It was hard for the half-orc to tell his companions from his enemies. He had no idea where to begin.

  Lidda dropped her crossbow. "I can't risk a shot," she said, drawing the short sword from her side. "We've got to move in." She crept up. "Stay close to me."

  Malthooz gulped and followed her into the fray. They moved along the ground toward the center of the camp. Krusk was still tangling with his opponent as more gnolls emerged from their tents around the clearing. They looked disoriented at first, but they snapped out of their stupor when they spotted the barbarian in their midst and saw Malthooz and Lidda approaching.

  Before he knew what he was doing, Malthooz found himself in the middle of the fight. He moved with Lidda as the rogue cut a path through the gnolls toward Krusk. Malthooz let out a groan when a gnoll appeared in the space between him and the rogue. He swung his club at the thing's nose, catching the tip of it and sending the creature yelping into Lidda's back. The rogue spun on the beast and plunged her sword into its chest.

  "Careful," she hissed.

  Malthooz and the halfling fought side by side, the rogue's sword slashing through the ranks of gnolls as the half-orc brought his club to bear. Another gnoll fell to the ground, clutching its broken wrist where Malthooz's club had struck. Malthooz felt the frenzy of combat pounding in his head. The pulse of blood rushing through his ears drowned out the sounds of the fighting going on all around him. He swung his club at anything that moved, whether it was in reach or not. He felt it smash in the side of a skull with a sickening sound.

  The halfling and the half-orc worked well together in a strange sort of way, the rogue keeping her body between Malthooz and gnoll's blades while he swung his club at them over her head. It was an awkward but effective tactic. His unseasoned recklessness kept the creature's guard up while the rogue's sword found its purchase in their flesh. The rest of the company fought alongside them. The bodies of dead gnolls littered the ground at their feet as the companions slashed through the monsters' ranks.

  The crunch of heavy footsteps sounded in the woods nearby, coming over the more immediate noise of fighting, echoing above the ringing in the half-orc's' ears. Malthooz turned on the commotion in time to see the huge form of an ettin erupt into the camp. A harsh and dissonant screech peeled through the air as the giant rushed forward, covering the length of a body with each of its tremendous strides. Malthooz shouted an incoherent warning.

  Two sets of eyes fell on the half-orc, whose knees trembled at the sight of the thing. It was a grotesque monster, unlike anything he'd ever imagined. Two heads sat upon massive shoulders. Each face was riddled with warts and scabs. Rotten brown teeth protruded from the creature's lower jaws. Its legs and arms were the size of small oaks. Either of its hands was easily as big as the half-orc's head. Thin, greasy hair hung limp over the creature's brows. It was clothed in a crude, hide loincloth. Bits of dried flesh still clung to the garment.

  Mialee turned on the ettin with her magic bolts. A trio of them raced from her fingertips at the giant. The missiles slammed into the creature, burning holes in its thick clothing but doing little else.

  The gnolls backed off as the giant waded into the melee wielding the lower half of a tree as a weapon. It moved toward Krusk at once, bringing the huge club around on the barbarian, sending him reeling to the side to avoid the blow. The return swing caught both of Vadania's phantasmal wolves, sending their broken bodies hurtling across the camp.

  The ettin's attacks became less precise as the passion of the fight overtook it. It leveled a handful of fleeing gnolls, catching them on the end of its tree as they tried to get away from the flailing stump. The rest of the gnolls backed off entirely to the edge of the clearing, not wanting to run but unwilling to stay within the ettin's indiscriminate reach.

  Malthooz blinked as he watched Mialee disappear for an instant then reappear at the ettin's side. The wizard flashed into and out of sight while she struck at the creature's feet with her staff.

  The door flap of the main tent was thrown open from inside. A large gnoll stood in the doorway, mumbling words, its hands weaving patterns in the air. Malthooz felt something rubbing against his boots. He tried to lift his foot but it was held firmly to the ground. The earth seemed to come alive under his feet as tiny sprouts sprang up around him, snaking their way up his legs. The vines wrapped themselves up his calf, tightening as they grew.

  He looked around at the others. All of them were caught in a web of foliage. Its spell completed, the gnoll dashed from the tent and into the woods.

  "He's mine," Lidda said, hacking at the ground with her sword. She severed the last of the creepers that held her in place and raced after the fleeing gnoll.

  Krusk and Mialee faced the giant, all three of them literally rooted to the battle. As it bent to add leverage to its swing, the barbarian's axe flashed upward and severed one of the ettin's heads from the body. Like an enormous melon, it rolled across the clearing, leaving behind a splashed trail of blood. One hand slipped from the giant's club as it lost control of half of its body. The beast spun in a circle, one leg tangled in foliage, the other stomping free, as it swung the tre
e around. Mialee dodged to the side and slammed her staff into the creature's chin. With a loud pop, the weapon snapped in two, but the jagged end stabbed upward through the ettin's jaw. The giant toppled backward, crashing into the side of a tent and bringing the structure flapping down around itself.

  Seeing their champion down, the gnolls watching from the edges of the clearing turned and scattered into the gloom of the forest, leaving their attackers in possession of the camp.

  "I lost the spellcaster," Lidda wheezed, her breath coming in short rapid breaths. "At least we have the staff. And I found this in its tent."

  She tossed a roll of heavy parchment to Mialee. The wizard grabbed the thing, unfurling it and studying the writing on its surface. Arcane symbols covered its length. The wizard stuffed it into her pouch.

  Lidda squatted down and set the box on the ground.

  "It makes no sense to me that a band of gnolls would be after this magical device," she said, running her hand along the smooth surface of the case. The ornate silver lines that were previously animated still traced the natural contours of the wood but no longer moved as they had.

  Vadania unwrapped a length of vine from her boot and threw it aside.

  "It makes little difference now," she said. "We have what we were after."

  "And I doubt the others will be back," Mialee said, "with the giant dead and their leader gone."

  "That's probably true," the druid agreed. "Still, I'll feel better when we've put more ground between ourselves and this place."

  "I agree," Malthooz said.

  He touched the druid's arm. A warmth passed over his hand and into Vadania's body through the tips of his fingers. Vadania pulled away from him. Scrapes on her legs from the entanglement quickly healed over.

  Malthooz stared in amazement, then touched the symbol hanging from his neck. It felt like a lifeless piece of wood. He felt no different from before, but all of them saw what happened.

  Vadania ran her hand over her skin.

  "Perhaps you were visited by Pelor after all, Malthooz," she said.

  "Stick to the club," Krusk snarled, and moved away to search the bodies of the fallen gnolls.

  Vadania ignored the barbarian's comment.

  "Now maybe you'll take some time to find out," she said.

  They searched the area hastily. Krusk found a pile of torches in one of the tents and Malthooz watched the cone of flame moving through the darkness as the barbarian passed among the bodies of the dead gnolls. Lidda and Mialee combed through the wooden building. Malthooz and Vadania stood guard near the wizard's box.

  Malthooz tried to look calm, but he quietly berated himself. He hadn't done a thing during the fight. The magic, if that's what it was, moved through him without warning, unannounced and actually unwelcome. He wasn't sure what he expected, carrying the holy symbol with him on a cord around his neck. He'd seen the women use their magic many times, but it was under their control, arising intentionally. Even the shaman from the village worked with the utmost attention, whether or not what he did was truly magical. What was happening to him? None of the others seemed very concerned.

  Malthooz knew that they were accustomed to the unusual, used to not relying on assumptions to get them through. They certainly didn't trust their lives to something they didn't understand. Not even Krusk appeared overly alarmed by what he'd seen, even if his distaste was obvious.

  Malthooz heard Vadania approach.

  "It sounds like the gnolls have regrouped and are returning," she said.

  13

  Newcoast bustled with activity as Lidda moved through the streets toward the Bung and Blade. She passed the rows of ships at harbor and the wharves that lined the waterfront. Stout and long merchant vessels rocked gently in their berths as workers unloaded cargo using a simple system of pulleys and booms. Many more ships had left the previous day, taking advantage of the mild weather, hoping to make it to the next port before another storm hit. A few more arrived in the port earlier that morning, setting the docks in motion.

  From the gnolls' camp, they reached the city in three days by traveling hard. They headed south, straight through the forest. Low clouds followed them for most of the trip, hovering just above the tops of the trees. The weather followed them right into town. The air was thick and damp everywhere, inside and out, though it didn't rain. At least the blanket of haze brought relief from the bitter cold. The trip had been thankfully free from serious pursuit and uneventful.

  Merchants' carts lined the streets and people of every description jostled amongst them, haggling over prices and quality. Lidda stopped to admire the assortment of daggers that one man was selling, with her eyes on a set of jeweled throwing blades. She waved the peddler off and moved down the row of vendors. She had no idea what use one would have for such weapons, but when she returned to the guild the next morning, shed walk away with enough gold to buy all of them and more, if she had the mind to. She walked into the pub and found her friends sitting at a table in the rear.

  "I've set a meeting with Flint and Wotherwill for tomorrow morning," she said, grinning from ear to ear. She put her elbow into Krusk's ribs. "You'll get your payment yet, and you got your fight."

  Krusk grunted.

  "Malthooz has been at him again," Vadania explained.

  Lidda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

  "I'm going to leave after we get paid," he said. "At least Krusk thinks I did enough to earn my share."

  Lidda smiled at the half-orc and said, "You saved my hide."

  "Still playing with that thing?" Lidda asked, seeing Malthooz's trinket on the table in front of him.

  Vadania grabbed the symbol from the table.

  "I think I've talked him into learning more," she said. "We all saw what he did to my wounds."

  Malthooz looked down at the table.

  Lidda was going to miss the half-orc. She'd grown fond of him, as had the other women. He was awkward and too modest, but the rogue liked him. She grabbed his hand.

  "You know you're always welcome, anywhere you can find us. That goes for this oaf, too." She elbowed Krusk again. "Speaking of oafs-you still got the staff?"

  Krusk set his hand on the bench beside him.

  "It's not leaving my sight until you take it back to the old man," he said. "I won't trust him or the thieves guild until I've got some gold in my hand and twenty miles between me and this city."

  Lidda left early the next morning, leaving the rest of the company at the inn. She carried the box containing the staff under her arm, wrapped in cloth to avoid drawing attention.

  Krusk thought it made no sense that the gnolls were acting alone, and he found it hard to believe that the creatures just stumbled upon the ship while they had a giant in tow. He'd been griping about it all night, weaving his inborn skepticism into a web of conspiracy and deceit.

  Lidda had to admit that they never got much of a story from Wotherwill, and what they did hear they'd accepted almost entirely without questioning. She wasn't too worried about the half-orc's suspicions, though. The way she saw it, the staff had probably been in the hands of the gnolls to begin with and the creatures had simply been reclaiming it. Either way, the business would be done soon, or at least her part would be. She couldn't care less where the thing came from. She'd feel no regret for taking it from the gnolls even if it was theirs. The weight of the container felt good under her arm as she tried to calculate the staff's weight in gold. Krusk's worries were over nothing.

  She rounded a corner and moved onto the lane that ran behind the guild. It was wider than most of the alleyways in the city but wasn't' quite a street. There were a number of small windows in the wall, and the detailed trim motif on the front of the building continued around through the rear. A few boarded-up doorways lined the other side of the alley.

  Lidda felt along the wall, searching for the small catch that would open a panel in the surface. Flint had told her about the alternate entrance the previous afternoon. Lidda took it
as yet another sign that she was gaining the guild master's favor. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching then slid open a concealed door.

  After stepping quickly into a small passageway, Lidda pushed the wall closed behind her. The short, dark, narrow hallway inside the wall ended a dozen paces ahead. She guessed that her entrance was being watched.

  At the far wall, she rapped the way Flint had indicated. A moment later a second panel slid open and the rogue found herself facing the doorman she met on her first visit. He nodded at the halfling, then his eyes shifted to the bulk under her arm. He turned without a word and led her through the complex to the guild master's chamber.

  Eva Flint was seated behind her desk. She smiled as the rogue entered the room. Wotherwill sat at a chair at her side, fidgeting with the hem of his robes. Lidda walked boldly into the room and set the bundle in front of them. The old wizard held the key in his hand, rubbing the top of the dragon's head with his long fingers.

  Wotherwill leaned forward in his chair. A hunger came over his eyes as he reached for the box.

  "Ah," he sighed, "a lifetime of work reaches its climax. This treasure cost me two wives and the loss of my only child." He lifted the box from the desktop. "Grievous losses each, in their own way, but this," he said, running a bony finger along its surface, "makes them bearable."

  He reached a shaky hand toward the clasp on the front of the box. The black figurine of the dragon shifted as it was brought close to the lock. Minute, ebony wings unfolded as though the creature was about to take flight. The statue's slender neck extended to meet the clasp. Shifting silvery lines animated themselves on the surface of the wood as if the two artifacts longed for each other.

  Wotherwill inserted the key into an opening in the front of the wooden box. The dancing patterns on the surface of the container suddenly stopped their illusionary movement, aligning themselves into a geometric grid. With a click, the lid of the chest sprang open.