White Plume Mountain (greyhawk)

by Paul Kidd

  Geshtai’s priest rolled his head to gaze at the girl andsaid, “Why should we tolerate these filthy interlopers?”

  The ranger stepped forward, his hand on the pommel of his sword. This time the Justicar was clearly going to decapitate the priest. Winging brightly down to save the day, Escalla blocked his path by happily shaking the baron’s hand.

  “M’learned colleague here wishes to thank the county, city,and municipality of Trigol for their kind offer of assistance in his attempts to bring this dangerous thief to justice. My goodness but he’d like to thankyou for your kind interest! Is a start tomorrow morning too early for you?”

  The baron emptied another wine goblet and shoved the empty cup out for more. He glared at the priests in absolute contempt. “This man has acommission from the countess. This man has fought and killed along that border for the best part of a decade. The party would all be dead men without an experienced ranger. You are entering a region blanketed by Iuz’s patrols and allsorts of lordless banditry. Do what he tells you. Once you cross the river into enemy territory, the party will be under his command.”

  Slurping wine, the baron pushed up from his chair. He ignored his visitors as priests, clerks, and scholars all stood to their feet.

  “We will also offer you a guide, an experienced trail-blazerwho is willing to guide the party into the Bandit Kingdoms.” The baron snappedhis fingers. “Summon him. Priests, bring your men. Plan your journey tonight.The recovery team leaves at dawn.”

  Men bowed as the baron, his wine jug, and his goblet all retired from the hall. Priests glared at one another then swept from the keep to summon their agents. Escalla brightly waved them all good-bye then helped herself to the largest remaining jug of wine.

  “So, Jus, we dodge in, we flit out. We grab the treasure andrun!” The faerie gave a great, expressive shrug. “What could be simpler?”

  Sitting down at the abandoned table, the Justicar helped himself to wine, roast kid, and bread. “I don’t like it. He knows we are coming.He wants us to come. For some reason, the librarian wants us in his lair.”

  Lair! Cinders grinned his big white grin. Cinderssniff! Fire burn! Kill!

  Blissfully happy, Escalla raised her wine in a toast. “See?Cinders has it. Couldn’t be simpler!” The faerie reclined on the table andhelped herself to a large chunk of the Justicar’s food. “Look, take it fromme-adventuring is all just a matter of bringing the right talents to bear. We’vegot these Trigol City rubes for monster fodder, we’ve got you two guys formuscle, and me for brains! We’ve even got a guide!” The girl lay on herback and scissored her long legs in a twinkle of pure glee. “It’s perfect! Whatcould possibly go wrong?”

  A soldier opened a door across the hall and admitted a new visitor. Striding happily into the room, the party’s guide took one look at hisnew companions and brayed for joy.

  “It’s you, son! So there you are, finished skulking atlast!”

  The Justicar jackknifed forward, almost choking on his wine. Brimming with joy, Polk the teamster whacked the big man across his hell hound-covered shoulders. “We’ve got a job, son! You and me! There’s a realadventure to be done. Real work, not this investigation stuff you waste your time on. A dungeon-now that’s where a hero should be! You stick withme, son, and I’ll make you a hero despite yourself!” Polk leaned to whisperloudly in Escalla’s ear. “We gotta talk him up, give him confidence. Poor kidwouldn’t know a portent from a portable hole.”

  Escalla looked up at Jus and gave the man a big smile. Polk reached for the wine and poured drinks for all, throwing arms about all three of his adopted friends.

  “Here’s to adventure! The stuff of legends and the spice oflife!” Polk stuffed a beef bone between Cinders’ jaws. “Drink, son, drink!We’re off to make history!”

  With a heavy sigh, the Justicar surrendered to his fate. By the time he finished the wine jug, the world had still steadfastly refused to improve.

  12

  In the gray hours before dawn, the baron’s castle laysleeping. Sentries leaned on the battlements while guard dogs snoozed. In the stables, a few yawning milkmaids and grooms stumbled about the first of the day’s chores.

  Cinders grinned happily, his teeth set and his eyes gleaming. Splayed on her belly in an old cot, Escalla made peaceful, ecstatic little noises as she clutched onto her bed. Jus had been tramping in and out of the room for almost half an hour, noisily getting ready for the journey. Escalla was aware that he was trying to wake her and perversely decided to remain exactly where she was.

  An earth-shattering crash of metal, leather, and junk shuddered through the floorboards. Jus had deliberately dropped his armor and weapons belt right beside Escalla’s bed. Escalla hugged the bed, finally liftingan eye up out of the blankets.

  “Is there any particular reason why you can’t just relax theway other people do?”

  “We leave in three hours.” Jus was noisily beginning hisdaily task of attending to the edge of his sword. After this would come exercises, armor maintenance, and breakfast. “We have to pack.”

  Escalla gave a mighty yawn. “Face it, man. There is nothingto pack. It all fits in one backpack.”

  Jus spread Cinders out across his bed and brushed the happy hell hound’s fur. He shot a dire glance at Escalla, who still remainedsteadfastly in bed.

  “Escalla, what are you doing?”

  “I’m lying naked on an ermine fur blanket.” The girl gave ahappy wriggle. “What does it look like?”

  Jus looked at her in confusion. “Why?”

  “You know, you have got to loosen up more.” The faeriesat up. “All right, I’m up! The world is saved! Show me a map of where we’regoing, and I’ll try to find where breakfast is kept.” The girl stretched again,showing a fine set of little white teeth. “Hey, Cinders, how’s my favoriteflaming pooch?”

  Happy! Good smells. Pretty faerie!

  “Cinders, you’re a gem!”

  Jus hefted his rawhide armor into place and jerked the fastenings tight. His suspicious eye glared at the little faerie as he said, “Where did you get an ermine skin?”

  “Mrs. Baron lent it to me.” Escalla sat up naked in bed andstretched luxuriously. “It’s her best coat.”

  “‘Lent’?”

  “In a sense. It was only for a night!” Escalla shook out herclothes and began getting dressed. “Faerie dust adds luster, man. Everyone knowsthat!”

  The Justicar deliberately busied himself with his back turned to Escalla as the faerie wriggled into her skirt. Tying herself in, Escalla flitted through the air to hang above her friend’s shoulder, looking down at thedocuments he had spread out across the tabletop.

  “So partner, where’s this map?”

  “Here. It’s a long march.” Jus pointed to the painted linesscrawled all over his map. “River, canyon, here’s the volcano-easy to spot, hasa permanent steam cloud above it.”

  “Do we know what the labyrinth is like?”

  “No maps of it.” Jus folded the map and stuffed it carelesslyinto his backpack. “Maybe in Greyhawk, but we don’t have the time.”

  “Hey, I’m game!” Escalla flew over to the door and struggledwith the latch, laboring to swing the portal open. “When in doubt, we send apriest down each corridor first. We’ll find this trident and hammer, stop thecivil war, kick the librarian’s ass-simple!” The girl hovered happily,fluttering her wings.

  “Come on,” the Justicar growled, “let’s eat.”

  Jus carried his backpack outside while Escalla followed her nose past the garrison kitchens and out into the officer’s mess. Someone hadthoughtfully laid out a breakfast of kippers, bacon, scrambled eggs, and strawberry tart for the baron. Escalla whistled happily as she cast a floating disk spell and absconded with the entire meal, plates and all, not forgetting the salt.

  She found Jus sitting by a little flowerbed behind the stables. Escalla spread breakfast upon an old horse rug and settled herself down to a double helping of tart.

  “A fare
well breakfast, compliments of the baron. Dig in!”

  Sniffing in puzzlement at the food, Jus sat down, over-salted his eggs, and began to eat. Escalla made herself comfortable on his knee and helped herself to anything and everything edible in sight. Cinders sucked on a kipper’s tail, his red eyes gleaming above his eternal manic grin.

  Thoughtfully breaking a piece of crisp bacon, Jus looked down at the faerie and said, “So you just found this?”

  “Hey! No one said not to take it!”

  The big man glowered. “I despair about you.”

  “Hey, we’re partners.” Escalla passed the man a large sliceof tart. “Now eat up, and keep your eyes open.”

  Dawn stole across the castle yard. In the stables, Polk could be heard loudly advising a priest on how to say his morning prayers. A tall man armored in silver plate came out of the castle to stand beside an archer and a sorcerer, who were loitering around the stables. Watching the gathering of their new allies, both Jus and Escalla laid aside their meal and shared identical thoughts.

  Jus settled his sword and said, “I’ll watch your back.”

  “Same back at you.” The girl flicked her wings and driftedoff the ground. “Are we ready?”

  “We’re ready.”

  Ready!

  The faerie heaved a sigh, headed out into the dawn, and said, “All right. Well, we’re on the road to fame and glory.”

  “You see, son, determination-that’s the mark of a realhero. Grit! Stick-to-it-ness! The ability to look like you mean business!”Sitting happily atop his wagon, Polk left the driving to an assistant wagoner. Now that he was an official guide, he liked to leave himself free to talk and advise. “Presence is the first impact you make on an enemy. So one thingwe have to work on is your image!”

  Marching grimly beside the lead wagon, the Justicar gritted his teeth and tried to ignore Polk’s constant monologue. Cinders failed to helpmatters. The hell hound kept his ears pricked up and his tail wagging, perfectly happy with the sights and smells of the road.

  Sitting above his companions and behaving like a lord of creation, Polk took a drag from a stone jug full of whiskey. On the wagons behind him were arrayed two priests with their tents, baggage, portable altars, and relics; a lordly paladin encased in solid silver armor; and a close-mouthed pair of men from the baron’s garrison. Three large wagons were rumbling along aruined, broken roadway behind them, each carrying enough supplies to see an army through a thirty years’ war.

  Even this close to Trigol, the land still showed ghosts of battle. The skeletal shapes of farmhouses and villages jutted through the weeds, and wild grasses still followed the boundaries of long-forgotten fields. Only the bones were missing. The slaughtered had found no rest. Even now, their corpses toiled in the armies of Iuz, preparing for yet another war. Wind moaned through the wild oats beside a broken well.

  Oblivious to the grim surroundings, Polk dragged in a breath of fresh morning air and gave a happy sigh. “Image, son! A hero has to haveimage.” Polk corked his jug. “A clear-cut presence! A blazing eye! You ask thefaerie, she’ll back me!”

  The faerie in question was lounging on the back of one of the great, hairy cart horses. No one could ever accuse Escalla of having a lack of personality. She reclined on her back eating wild strawberries taken from the fields, her toes wriggling happily inside her boots as she enjoyed the day. She rolled to watch Jus and gave the man a knowing smile.

  “Hey, Jus! Bearing up?”

  “The wagons are too slow.” Jus seethed with annoyance atbeing made to cater to so much useless baggage. “Tomorrow we start to lose theroads.”

  “Yeah, well, enjoy it while we can.” Escalla dippedstrawberries in a little bowl of sugar crystals. “The muckity-mucks aren’t goingto give up their beds and bangles until they have to.”

  The two priests kept to their own wagons-watching oneanother, watching the road, and trying to prevent each other from speaking to the other party members. The baron’s sorcerer carefully spied on the archer, andthe archer kept a cold watch over the paladin. A whole day of march had passed without introductions, without chatter. Polk and Escalla filled the vacuum with a will. Casting an appraising gaze over her fellow travelers, Escalla sat up and hunted for the last few sugar crystals in her bowl.

  “Well, this crew is just a laugh an hour!” Escalla tossed astrawberry up to Polk, who gave her a salute. “Polk’s really hoopy, though!Where did you find him?”

  Jus felt himself bristling like an angry hound. “I didn’t.There’s just no getting rid of him.”

  With his head up in the sun and his tail trailing in the breeze, Cinders gave a dry, sniggering little laugh. Polk-man funny!

  Jus gave an irritated sigh then looked back along the caravan. Three full wagons-tons of supplies-and none of it could possibly betaken into the wilds. He felt a delicious surge of malice as he anticipated a future full of wails and cries.

  Escalla flew up from her perch on the cart horse, whirring between the big animal’s ears. She looped up and hovered, staring back along theline of wagons. Jus joined her, standing to watch the heavy vehicles rock and rumble slowly past them.

  The Geshtai had sent a priestess on the expedition-a fat,powerful woman with cold eyes and a wealth of chins. Beneath her fish-patterned robes, bangles, and vestments of the river god, there came the gleam of metal armor, weapons, and charms. The big priestess sat in a nest of cushions and religious paraphernalia, spending her entire day keeping the Bleredd priest under surveillance.

  Small, sharp-featured, and strangely weasel-like, the Bleredd priest wove subtle little spells to spy upon his rival-spells instantlycountered by the Geshtai. The contest had kept them occupied in deadly earnest ever since the journey began at dawn.

  Escalla gave a shiver, as though casting off the evil eye. “Lovely bunch we have here.”

  “Skilled killers.” Jus shrugged his backpack into a betterposition. “The two priests are field agents. The Geshtai is a slaver, and theBleredd priest is from Urnst-not a refugee from Tenh.” The Justicar watchedEscalla slyly appraising the other party members as they rolled by. “Oursorcerer is an ice mage. The paladin is called Olthwaite. The archer is Hanin. We were supposed to have an archer named Barkis, but he was stabbed in a tavern about an hour after he was assigned to us.”

  “Wow!” Escalla hovered in midair, her little fists planted onher hips a she surveyed the wagon train. “These guys haven’t spoken to us allday. How did you pick all that up?”

  “I talked to the barons men.” Jus gave a righteous sniff.“What did you think I was doing all last night?”

  “I dunno. Ranger stuff?” Escalla shrugged, honestly confused.“Hey, man, I got my beauty sleep. One of us has to think about hercomplexion.”

  With the wagons finally passed, Jus walked into the pitted dirt roadway and crossed into the abandoned fields. He climbed up an overgrown apple tree, looked out across the wild hedges, and scanned for movement in the ruins of a farmhouse nearby. He let Cinders sniff the breeze, then tugged a trio of ripe apples from the bough. One he polished and tossed to Escalla, one he ate for himself, and the third he stuffed between Cinders’ jaws. The hellhoundgrinned his mad grin, looking a little like a suckling pig as the apple gleamed between his teeth.

  Jus looked at Escalla and gave a little shrug. “He likesthem.”

  The ranger crunched his apple and slid to the ground. Escalla joined him, puzzling over how to eat the apple, which was far too large for her to sink her teeth into.

  “So, Jus, you think the archer guy is a spy?”

  “I think they’re all spies.” Jus glared at the departingwagons. “They’re each on their own side, not ours.”

  “So should I do something?” Escalla passed Jus her apple. Hescored the fruit with his nails and split it in two.

  “I could fireball them all.”

  Burn! Burn paladin! Burn paladin! The hell hound’s tailthumped against Jus’ back.

  The Justicar thought about the options, t
hen heaved an irritated sigh and walked on in the wake of the wagons.

  “No. The baron’s been useful. We’d just be pushing Trigolcloser to civil war. We’ll leave them alone… for now.”

  Escalla cocked a sly eye at the Justicar. “Even Polk?”

  “No. Him you have my personal permission to fireball.”

  Happily bathing in a copper cooking pot of scented water,Escalla whistled as she rubbed the soles of her pretty pink feet with a sandstone. Cinders’ white fangs and baleful fires stood on watch above,covering Escalla’s rear. The faerie gave a delicious sigh and relaxed back intothe hot water, listening to the noises drifting on the nighttime breeze.

  Polk followed the Justicar as he wandered about the camp, trying to bring the ranger to the path of proper thinking.

  “Son, now I only say this because I really like you. Have youever considered the advantages of dressing in white?”

  “White?” This time Jus stopped in annoyance. “I’d stand outlike dog’s balls!”

  “But that’s the point-you don’t hide, son! It’s an invitationto attack! It’s daring your enemies to try their blades against a champion ofgood.”

  Jus gave a snort. “How white will your robes be after a dayon the march?”

  “Now that’s just mundanity. Son, my point is that a herodoesn’t waste time with skulking.” Polk gave a regal sniff. “Sir Olthwaite wearswhite.”

  “Yeah. His order bleaches cloth by soaking it for about ayear in urine.” Jus seemed to be enjoying himself. “If you’re talking to thepaladin, I’d suggest you stay upwind.”

  Jus wandered off into the darkened scrub in an effort to get rid of the teamster, but Polk followed doggedly.

  Escalla laughed. Jus was the heart and soul of diplomacy, just as ever. Rising from her tub, Escalla wrapped a towel about her middle, tucked it in tight, then wrung out her long golden hair and shook out her wet locks in the breeze.