Tales of Uncle Trapspringer ll-3

by Dixie Lee Mckeone

  "Wizard say do magic," he announced.

  "Hey, that's right!" They had not seen any illusions for days, and Trap had spent the evening hoping.

  "You're right! She did!" Ripple agreed, glaring at Halmarain.

  The little wizard looked up from her book, frowned at Grod and sighed. After sending Grod for a handful of long blades of grass, she spread them out and spoke the words of a spell. The blades of grass rose, glowed with color, and twisted in the air, circling around and through the loops of other blades. The illusion that fascinated the kender and the gully dwarves lasted about five minutes.

  "Trap, it's your turn," Ripple said. "I played the flute. Grod and Umpth sang, now you tell a story. I know. Tell one about that Uncle Trapspringer."

  "Him dead," Grod said. "Make a good tale, that."

  Trap let his mind travel back to his sadness over his Uncle Goalong and tears trickled down his cheeks.

  "My poor Uncle Trapspringer," he began. "He never should have ridden that pony backward…"

  While Trap wove his tale, Halmarain had pulled a spellbook out of her pack. The large book was nearly half her height and she struggled to spread it out across her short, out-thrust legs. She kept her head lowered as if studying the book, but occasionally she lifted her eyes as Trap wove another tale of a strange and interesting death for his imaginary uncle.

  Chapter 10

  Astinus of Palanthus bent his head over his work as he described how…

  Jaerume Kaldre rubbed his left arm and was surprised again. He was twice surprised. First, that he could feel the huge elbow, forearm, and hand. Second, that with the same arm he could feel the touch of the fingers of his right hand, nearly fleshless.

  Both sensations were new. In life he had lost his left arm just above the elbow, but his right hand had been strong and well fleshed. After the loss of his left limb he had managed to maintain his position as the leader of a troop of mercenaries, at times with a knife in the back, though occasionally he openly fought his opponents.

  His new left arm came from a dead goblin, the bones attached to his own by Draaddis Vulter, who'd raised him from the dead. Kaldre's appetite for command, never small, had been enlarged when he had been brought back to life in the wizard's laboratory. The skills of the wizard Vulter had allowed him to walk the soil of Krynn again in a sort of half-alive state Kaldre was not too sure he liked. He did like the rewards that were promised him if he completed the task Vulter and his goddess had set for him. Takhisis, the Dark Queen, had personally promised him that he would lead her death knight legions into battle. In life he had not been a general, and the thought of filling that post, even in death, pleased him.

  When he left Draaddis Vulter's lair in Pey, Kaldre had been certain he would be able to complete the task set for hint. He would have no trouble taking two stones from a pair of miserable kender thieves. An infant fiend from another plane would not be too hard to find, capture, and deliver to the wizard.

  Once away from the ruins, though, Kaldre's confidence began to wain. Under orders from Draaddis Vulter, he stood in a large cavern in the Garnet Mountains, staring at his new troops, sure he would be better off without them. In front of him stood a group of fifty trembling kobolds, bunched together at the side of the cavern. Their cowardice and their smell disgusted him, but he was under orders.

  Did the wizard and the Queen of Darkness really believe he needed this miserable scum? If so, they had too little faith in his abilities to even consider giving him command of a legion. Or were they testing him? When he was alive, all his followers had been human. He had never worked with other races, and a legion of death knights, spreading terror across the face of Krynn could be made up of many types of warriors.

  He shrugged. If they wanted to test his mettle, he would not be found lacking.

  "Form up," Kaldre ordered. "We begin our march to-night." His followers could see better in the dark and were weakened by bright sunlight, and Kaldre had discovered one bonus in his new "life," his own night vision was far better now than it was when he was alive.

  "We following," replied the kobold leader Malewik. "Muchly quick we following. We doing as wizard says."

  The kobold eyed Kaldre with a resentful wariness, subtly informing the death knight that his kobolds were cooperating only because of their instructions from Draaddis Vulter.

  The wizard had insisted that Kaldre could depend on the kobolds, but that they had an instinctive fear and hatred of the undead. Beneath Malewik's stolen dwarf helmet his eyes were speculating.

  "We hunt two kender," Kaldre told them. "They were in Lytburg when they were last seen, though that was nearly a week ago."

  "Humans not liking kender, not liking kender muchly much." Malewik had immediately understood their first and major problem, as his next statement proved: "Is driving kender out of city, doing soon or doing before now. We finding kender not so easy maybe."

  "Yes, and if they're gone we'll need to find out when and where." Kaldre agreed. "We will travel west until we near the city. Then I will enter and find out what I can."

  Jaerume Kaldre led his motley band from the cavern. The journey began well and continued for almost two miles before the first kobold decided he had traveled far enough and attempted to disappear into the forest.

  Takhisis had foreseen trouble with the undisciplined humanoids and had ordered Draaddis to send his messenger-the winged rat-along on the first leg of the journey. The creature raised a racket and Kaldre caught the deserter before he was out of sight of the others. One short swing of his sword decapitated the hapless kobold. Behind him, Kaldre could hear the fearful muttering of the rest of his "army."

  "Here, you, the last in line," Kaldre called to the huddled group. He leaned sideways in his saddle and picked up the deserter's head by spearing it through the ear with the tip of his sword.

  "You carry this," he said, flinging the head at the group. "You'll all take turns carrying it; it will remind you of what will happen if you desert."

  As he rode ahead of the silent kobold column he decided he would use the same tactic on his real legions when he took them into battle. He would make sure he had no deserters. The kobolds obediently followed all night and most of the next day, then he left them in an abandoned barn.

  Jaerume Kaldre reached the north gate of Lytburg just after sunset. He dismounted from his blowing, steaming horse on the far side of the bridge and walked across. As he approached the gates he saw four guards on duty and another four appeared, led by an officer.

  He slowed his pace and pulled his hood down to keep the light of the torches from showing too much of his pale, skull-like face.

  But the soldiers had not noticed his approach. The officer and the new arrivals gathered around a guard who was showing off a broken spear.

  "He bit off the point and chewed it up," the guard was explaining.

  "Have you been drinking on duty?" the officer demanded.

  "Nay, and the others will bear me out. I was stopping a dwarf I had reason to question. He just bit the end off the spear and chewed up the point. I never seen the like."

  "Saw it myself, Captain," a second guard spoke up. "That dwarf just bit off that spearhead and chewed it up. He never even spit out the shards."

  The officer glared at the two guards, but he had heard the approach of the stranger and turned, his expression harsh, as if he intended to use Kaldre as the target for his frustration.

  "It's late to approach a city, traveler," the captain called. The words had been formed in advance of his turning to face the man, but they came out stiffly. An air of decay hung about the stranger like the stuffiness of a garment left too long in an old chest, but the aura of evil emanated from the figure and not his garments. The officer nearly choked with fear.

  "I seek only information," Jaerume Kaldre said quietly. "I have traveled far and seek news. My destination is Garnet, and I would know if humans are welcome there or if some trouble has closed their gates."

  "They're
open to humans as far as I know," the captain said. The fear that created a cold, hard knot in his stomach warned him to be more courteous than usual. "Lytburg does not bar peaceful travelers who arrive after sunset," he said, hoping the stranger would not avail himself of the amenities of the city.

  "If that is an invitation, I thank you," Kaldre replied. "But the moon is bright and I can travel miles before I rest." He turned his horse and walked back across the bridge, away from the gate.

  The death knight had been careful not to let his anger show. By the conversation he had overheard, he knew his quarry was no longer in Lytburg. Only the merchesti could have chewed up a spear point. If the little fiend left, disguised as a dwarf… the kender had disguised it and helped it to leave the city.

  He walked casually until he was well away from the bridge, then mounted his horse, spurring it east. Not far away, in a group of abandoned farm buildings, the kobolds waited.

  Chapter 11

  My Uncle Trapspringer loved to travel…

  Shortly after dawn Trap and Ripple saddled the ponies, loaded the pack animal, and were on their way again. The few trees west of the abandoned farm gave way to more open country. The sun was still low in the morning sky when they reached what, on Trap's map, was a line of hills.

  When they left the fields behind they discovered that "hills" did not quite describe the terrain they faced. In some distant past it might have been a plateau stretching south from the mountains. Run-off from the heights to the north had dug gullies that had, through the years, become arroyos and small canyons, leaving the upper surface a series of small mesas with steep sides, many of sheer rock. Where there was soil, range grass and small bushes softened the landscape.

  Their path was limited to the arroyos that were between eight and twenty feet deep. Often, when the passes were too narrow for two to ride abreast, Trap led the way. When possible he chose a path leading west. The dry watercourses twisted about and they found themselves traveling north, south and even east again. Halmarain, Ripple, and even the gully dwarves made suggestions to correct their course. Their choices were no better than Trap's. After hours of trying to find their way out of the maze, Trap brought the group to a halt.

  "Gosh! Where are we? What sort of place is this?" Ripple asked when she, Halmarain, and Trap dismounted for a conference.

  "I'd say it was left over from some sort of natural upheaval," Halmarain said. "Runoff from the mountain storms, but judging by the vegetation, I'd guess they're no longer stream beds."

  "It's strange. It's interesting. I think it was made by water that couldn't make up its mind where it was going," Trap said, looking first to the north and then south. "These old gullies seem to run in all directions and I bet they go on forever, so it would be a wonderful place for hide-and-find, if we had anyone interested in playing." He eyed the wizard hopefully.

  "We may be playing that game without meaning to," Halmarain said. "We could stay lost in here for days."

  "Do you think so? That sounds like fun," Trap said.

  At the wizard's urging he dismounted and climbed up a steep but negotiable slope. From his vantage point he could see more arroyos to the north, south, and west, all running into each other. To the east was the plain they had crossed. A group of travelers was approaching the maze by a washout half a mile to the north. One, heavily cloaked-which seemed strange in the warmth of the day-rode a horse. The others walked behind him and in the distance they seemed small in comparison to the rider.

  Trap climbed down, intending to tell Halmarain he thought they should turn north at the first opportunity and follow the other group of travelers. On the way down, he changed his mind. The small human wizard saw danger everywhere, and she would certainly object. He would relieve her of her fear by not telling her about the travelers.

  "Did you find a way out?" Halmarain asked.

  "Of course. I know how to get us through," he said, not really lying.

  "Then you lead us out of here," she said, taking the leads for the two gully dwarf mounts. Because of the narrow trail, Umpth was carrying the wagon wheel, much to the irritation of his pony.

  Trap led the party north at every opportunity and within an hour he found the trail of the other group of travelers. Their trail twisted about too, but he followed along, confident they would sooner or later work their way out of the maze.

  He was just rounding a turn in the path when he stopped. Further up the trail, he saw several kobolds walking in a line. Their backs were to the kender and the last was just disappearing when Halmarain rode abreast of Trap.

  "What is it?" she asked, her tiny voice pitched even higher because of her worry.

  "Kobolds," he told her. "Maybe they know a shorter path. I could ask them… I should have thought of it before the last one disappeared."

  "Certainly not. They'd give you directions, get ahead of us, and set an ambush. They'd want our mounts and supplies," she warned. "How many did you see?"

  "At least ten," Trap replied. "I couldn't tell how many had passed before I saw them, but they seemed to know where they were going, and if we want to find our way out-"

  "Ten is too many for us to fight," Halmarain murmured as if to herself.

  "But if we were nice to them-"

  "No, leave them alone," Halmarain ordered.

  Before Trap could object he heard the clump of heavily booted feet, the rattle of equipment, and the snarling complaints of goblins before he saw them. They were heading northwest, using an arroyo that ran parallel to the one in which the kender and their group hid.

  "Goblins on one side, kobolds on the other," Halmarain said. "What do we do now?"

  "For a line of deserted hills, this place certainly is busy," Trap said to himself half an hour later. He had rounded a curve in a gully and saw the retreating back of a goblin. Forgetting the wizard's warning, he stepped out, shouting to catch the last goblin's attention.

  "Hello!" he called as the last in the line of humanoids stopped and turned to stare at him. "I'm lost. Can you tell me how to get out of this maze?"

  The goblins stopped to confer, and he decided they were working out the best directions they could. Then, from an intersecting passage just beyond the goblins, came another shout and the kobolds rushed into sight again. They charged in Trap's direction.

  The kender waved and smiled. They wanted to be helpful too, he decided. So much for the little wizard's fears.

  The goblins spotted the kobolds and two of the goblins threw spears. One kobold fell and the others attacked the goblins.

  "What have you done?" Halmarain rode up and stared at the battle. It was increasing in size as more goblins and kobolds charged out of the narrow gorges.

  "I just asked a question," Trap said, disappointed that she didn't seem to understand. "And you're wrong, they're so friendly and want to help so much that they're fighting over who will give us directions."

  "I'll decide where we go," Halmarain glared at him and turned her pony around, trotting back the way they had come. At the first intersection she took a westerly path that turned south in less than a hundred yards.

  Trap vaulted into the saddle and raced to catch up with the little wizard. It was only luck that their next turn took them into an arroyo that definitely sloped down and to the west. Judging by the sounds in the distance, the goblins and the kobolds would be too busy with each other to chase them. When the sounds of battle faded, Trap reduced the pony's pace to a trot. After an hour of travel they left the last of the maze behind.

  According to the map, the low line of hills that were an extension of the Vingaard Mountains, were no more than ten miles wide. It shouldn't have taken them more than six hours to cross the hills if they moved in a straight line. They had entered the maze early that morning, and the sun was just touching the horizon when they finally came in sight of the plain to the west.

  They continued until they found a natural swale where the grass was tall and thick. They made camp in the semi-darkness, hobbling the ponies
so they could graze. Since they lacked firewood, and could barely find enough thick limbed brush to satisfy Beglug's appetite, they made a cold camp.

  "Pony tired," Grod said the next morning. "Me tired."

  "We can't stay here," Halmarain said, looking around at the empty countryside. "Those kobolds and goblins may find our trail and we already know they outnumber us."

  "By the sounds, they were having a great fight," Trap said wistfully. "They may have killed each other off, but maybe they didn't and they'll start fighting again. I'd be glad to go back and see."

  "Yes! That's a good idea. I can go with you," Ripple said eagerly.

  "With our luck, they may have joined forces," the little wizard griped.

  "Look bad things, find bad things," Umpth told his brother as he shoved the last of his travel bread into his mouth.

  "Think bad, find bad," Grod agreed. "Wizard think up bi-i-ig mess."

  "I'll have no more gully dwarf philosophy," the little wizard snapped.

  "I will," Ripple's voice grated with that particular harshness of kender anger. "If you can bring trouble on by thinking about it, then you can bring fortune on by thinking good thoughts."

  "Kender optimism," Halmarain snapped. "Kender foolishness."

  "Yes, kender optimism!" Trap said, wondering exactly what optimism meant. It sounded good, so he decided he must have some, since he agreed with his sister.

  Halmarain glared at the kender and silently followed Ripple toward the pony carrying packs and bedrolls. The tiny wizard raised her bedroll to the pack frame, but she was too short to hold it in position and tie it. After three tries she slammed the roll to the ground and marched off to stand staring out into the distance. Trap and Ripple had loaded the pack animal and saddled the ponies when the little wizard returned.

  "Perhaps you're right," she said reluctantly. "Maybe I do worry overmuch, but Orander is in that awful place, we have that… we have Beglug to worry about and all the dangers between here and Palanthus." She glanced at Ripple who did not seemed swayed by her explanation. "I'll decide that we're fortunate, that we'll be safe, and that we won't face any dangers. Will that satisfy you?"