by Chris Turner
The Dakkaw stared no less hungrily at the sight of her, murmuring a dreamy sigh. With little reservation, he struggled forward, ready to fling a harsh hand over her mouth and take her by surprise.
Baus flinched. The ogre was three times her size and about to treat this innocent creature like a sack of grain and he could not bear it. From his pocket, he withdrew two shallot bulbs, which he had been saving for such an occasion. He stalked boldly forth.
His stealth had no effect on the ogre who had already committed to his course. Brazenly he reached to snatch at the girl, but twisted around in dismay when Baus confronted him from behind. With brutal precision, he swatted Baus and flung him to the planks like a rag doll. The noise alerted Delizra, whose wide, stirring eyes fluttered in pure terror.
The notes of her scream hung rigidly in the air, echoing about the chamber like ghost gibber then racing down the adjoining hall. The next thing Baus knew was the Dakkaw had her clamped in his arms, sallow eyes gleaming. A madman’s lust was in his expression, his breath was a wegmor’s gust upon her pale, trembling cheek. Swiftly he rolled her up in a ball, shambled with all speed for the door.
Delizra struck at him with her fists, knocked him with her knees but her puny strength was no use against the Dakkaw. He crushed her tighter to his body and Valere bravely blocked the ogre’s way, but the ogre swatted him aside as easily as Baus, and now almost trampled the two.
Baus struggled to his knees, flinging the onion and shallot before the door. The bulbs fell rolling between the doorway and the path where the Dakkaw was ready to exit. For a hairy second the monster hesitated, then he hopscotched back, clutching one hand at his eyes, the other at the girl as if he were in pain.
Delizra clamped teeth hard on his knotty wrist. The Dakkaw screeched. Momentarily he lost his grip on her. The maid wriggled, scrambled away on her haunches toward a corner of the room. The Dakkaw lunged but she was already skidding back to the bedside. A great ringing suddenly erupted from within the manor—a warning gong. A furious motion came from the halls—scurrying feet, confused shouts. Baus quailed. Steel slithered from scabbards. He saw a flicker of angry torches dimly glinting in the hallway. The Dakkaw forced his eyes open. They glowed with icy purpose and he advanced upon Baus.
The gong pounded on. The Dakkaw took hold of his senses and attempted to leap half madly over the two banes of shallot obstructing his path.
The effort was dilatory. Valere thrust his torch into the ogre’s face. He singed an eyebrow.
A tall, ruddy-cheeked defender burst into the chamber. He had a wolfish face and was garbed in the grey-black robe of a servant. He brandished a rapier which he used with fluid ease to slice at the Dakkaw. The ogre danced back. Without fear, the swordsman launched a vicious thrust. The stab was easily eluded, as was the next, which the Dakkaw repulsed with a quick duck-winging of elbows. He caught the blade on his leather jerkin and twisted the attacker aside. Maddened beyond belief, the ogre thrust a fist to hammer back the aggressor. The swordsman went flying, smacking against the wall, knocked out of breath. The blow had struck breastbone, and the avenger slumped dizzily down unto his knees.
The Dakkaw leapt out into the hall. His form was a sinister silhouette in the soft light. A triumphant rumble formed on his lips.
He was not far in his escape before several of the house guard were on the way. They intercepted with prejudice. Garbed in overcloaks of red and green, the men wielded whips and long pointed swords. With glee, they snapped and hacked at the ogre.
The Dakkaw danced and dodged with leaps and snorts. He fist-clubbed many, sending bruised and blackened watchmen to their knees. But by and by they overpowered him in sheer numbers and weighed him down with chains and ropes.
It took thirteen of them to control the giant and quell his fierceness. Snarls and raging insults ripped from his foaming jowl before they mastered his stupendous strength. Humbled to a cowed beast, the Dakkaw was dragged away to suffer whatever penalties the citizenry of Krintz had in mind.
Now Delizra crouched weakly at the bedside. She hastened to console the tall, dark-haired gentleman who was slowly reviving. He was long-faced and wolf-eyed and graced with keen brows, and not without a graceful air to his bearing. The girl noticed Baus for the first time and hesitated. She seemed to harbour a curious affection for her protector, which Baus could not quite understand.
A new figure abruptly emerged into the bedchamber—a hawk-faced individual standing thickly in the doorway: He was tall and confident, projecting an air of absolute authority. His lank, jet-black hair streamed down his flaring cheeks. Grey hair though fringed his temples. His eyes were a flash of blue light, writ with an imperturbable gaze. He wore a billowy chestnut night robe and soft slippers laced with purple ties. On his breast, the coat-of-arms of an eagle and a three-masted schooner was woven, obviously an emblem of distinction. He looked palely toward his daughter and marched in, with his breath drawn like a plucked violin.
“Delizra! Whatever of the three gods of Krutu has happened here?”
“Father!” she cried. The girl leaped, arched arms about her father. The Vulde, lord of Silsoor manor, clasped his younger daughter with a thrill of discovery. He knew that she was safe from further molestation.
Baus and Valere attempted a wry smile. Their half-sidling retreat to the door did not go unnoticed. Three scowling watchmen herded them back into the corner. Another attempt to slink away was thwarted—three swordtips aimed impolitely at their throats.
“Well, brigands!” cried the lord fiercely. “What have you to say in your defence before I have you tarred and whipped?” He made swift strides to stand quivering before them.
Baus gave a laboured sneer. “Would you torture innocent men, lord? We were as much to credit for saving your daughter as your braveheart here. We were as much the Dakkaw’s prisoners as was your daughter. If not for our impromptu acts, we would all be dead. Recall the shallot I lodged at the monster—” He gestured importantly to the crushed bulbs oozing on the polished wooden planks.
The Vulde lowered his glance. He gave a soft grunt. Scanning the crushed items and his whimpering daughter, he settled his gaze on the two sullen-eyed intruders in new light. “Well, there is much that is a mystery here.” The intensity in his eyes diminished.
“’Tis true, Father,” the girl admitted. “The two intruders attempted to impede the ogre by cunning force. This red-bearded gentleman thrust a blazing brand in the monster’s eyes; the other fearlessly flung fresh shallots at his feet to beguile the ogre’s lust.”
The Vulde gave an incredulous frown. He declared brusquely, “Who are you? From where do you come? Speak candidly or I shall cut out your tongues like I shall the Dakkaw.”
“I am Baus of Heagram,” answered Baus frankly. Bowing, he made a favourable impression, a reckless smile pasted on his dry lips.
“I am Valere of Illim,” Valere offered curtly. “My service heralds no less genuinely than Baus’s.”
“Is that so?” snapped the Vulde.
Baus hastened to explain: “You have us pegged in the wrong light. The Dakkaw ensnared us in a glade near the Old Krintz ruins. In Bisiguth, he confined us, forcing us to obey his evil wishes. Recently, he ordered us to remove the barriers you erect, so that we might commit acts of vandalism. We were loath to carry out such crimes, and were further obliged to guard the hallway under penalty of death while he was to champion your daughter.”
The Vulde rubbed his eyes with the most fearful contempt, then he shook his head in ungovernable anger. “This Dakkaw is a criminal degenerate. This is what I know of the creature’s depraved wish right from the outset!—as far back as the days when we exiled him from our quaint town.” The lord looked about the room appalled. Baus caught a glimpse of an anguished man on the brink of almost losing his daughter and thought to walk carefully regarding any misplaced quips or fibs.
“Well, if this is true, then you are both heroes.”
Baus and Valere accepted the tribute with uneasy
grace.
Another man strode sullenly into the room, one with rounded cheeks, a baby face, tiny blond ringlets pasted to set of narrow ears. His neck was thin, his mouth quivering as he was dressed up in a pretentious gold and blue suit with silver lining, cufflinks, tall black boots and pale blue hose. The features of the man’s face seemed carved into an insincere rictus. From grey eyes he stole a look of almost condescending disapproval at the intruders and their relation with the girl who, frightened out her wits, he seemed to be quite fond of. He scooted over to give her a squeeze and dropped to a knee, taking her hand. “Delizra, my sweet beloved! What has happened to your innocent daintiness? I see you are ruffled and distraught. Whatever has befallen you? Are you hurt?”
“Not at all,” she replied coolly. She withdrew her hand, sniffing with ill-concealed unease. “Brave Tulesio here—” she motioned to the wolf-faced man “—initiated the first feint upon the ogre, these two here finished the job—”
The newcomer glared at the two newcomers. “I shall have these rogues whipped and dragged through the briar before they are all hanged! Attend! These must be the ragbeards themselves, grumbling while picking at their teeth like a pair of bumpkins. Ah, the monster Dakkaw. We now have him in our custody, tethered to Woybur’s obelisk and shall punish with hot irons and staves.”
The Vulde nodded curtly, “Hysgode, true enough. But you shall do no such thing. Little harm has come to Delizra, thanks to these men. I am not sure that the little scare hasn’t toughened Delizra up some.” He smiled affectionately. “On another note, I am glad you are here. I wish that you escort these ‘ragbeards’ to the guest chambers. They are to be spared no expense in luxury or convenience.”
The nobleman’s eyes popped out of their sockets. “I find the courtesy overreaching. The task is menial and I am of title to renege a duty such as this while scandalous villains are—”
“Scandalous villains, eh?” the Vulde cried. “Did I not say they were heroes?” He lifted a quivering finger. “Summon my staff. See that the guests are given fresh linen and changes of clothes and warm viands. Until further notice, they are to be considered esteemed guests, with rank at Silsoor, and by you too. I shall suffer no further complaints or slanders upon their honour!”
Hysgode dipped his head with confusion.
A guard held up a fistful of coins. “Look, Vulde! I have discovered these coins upon this redbeard—it appears wealth obtained from our own coffers.”
“What? How do you know they are our own?” barked the Vulde.
“They bear our seal, lord. You can see for yourself.” He lifted a gold sequin to the light. The Vulde eyed the coin with scowling scrutiny. The watchman’s aides stepped eagerly aside as he frowned upon the pieces. He emitted a cry of acrimony. Snarling now, they laid hands on Baus and searched his person too. They discovered a similar hefty pouch of more of the same, and briskly they secured his arms. To Baus’s distress, they discovered Lolispar and the ganglestick and confiscated them.
Baus flung off the invasive hands with disgust. “Here, fools!” he cried. “Are wayfarers suddenly forbidden to carry weapons and gold? As for the coins, they are easily explained.”
“And how is that?” growled the Vulde. He tapped his foot wrathfully.
“Simple. My colleague and I were out returning them to your chest. It was all part of the diseased Dakkaw’s cunning plan. ‘If I am to have a bride, I demand a dowry as bountiful as her beauty!’ quoth he. Then he grinned meaningfully at us and ordered us to steal the coins. ‘And to what better source should I peer than the Vulde’s own coffers?’ No sooner uttered, he guffawed in uproarious delight.
“To this audacity, we replied, ‘No, Dakkaw, we respect the Lord Vulde’s property. The risks you describe are precipitous, the deed is much too precarious and recklessly exploitative for us to commit.’ Once again the ogre chortled and forced us on to the town so that we might raid your repository and carry his spoils.”
Valere endorsed the statement with urgent nods and hums.
The Vulde scowled, peering from one to the other, as if searching for any half truths.
Baus held up a reassuring palm. “Look Vulde, we delivered you the ogre and now your wealth. Is this not enough to show us your good faith?”
The Vulde stroked his stony chin in ever shrewder calculation. “’Twas dilatory.” Searching for any tremor of a fib, he grew indecisive. “Perhaps you recount snatches of deeds that may be true—but something in this business of ‘cunning plans’ and ‘exploitative deeds’ smacks of fallacy. This tall tale of yours being even minutely true, is a fantastic stretch of the imagination . . .”
The lord approached the burglars, curious to examine Baus’s weapon, the golden gladius, which Tulesio, his chamberlain and bodyguard, now handed him with courteous regard. “A fine sword, Baus—an antique weapon if I’m not mistaken. The neomancer runes are inscribed uniquely on the tang. It is of peculiar interest. From one of the southern kingdoms, I suspect—Loust? Aurenham? The blade’s cast escapes my memory. Wherever did you acquire this rare piece?”
Baus bowed in stately deference. “A gift, my lord—from a deceased uncle who was well known for his exotic travels beyond the realm of Arnin. I believe he mentioned, ‘Desenion’ at one time or other.”
The Vulde seemed impressed by the reference. “Indeed—a marvellous gift.”
“’Tis,” Baus affirmed. “And the item which your underling grips so crassly, is nothing more than a knick-knack, a gaud which I carry on my person for sentimental reasons.” He snatched for the ebon ganglestick. The guard fingered the shaft of the rod, pulling it away. Inadvertently his fingers touched the tip and he stood frozen like a stunned rabbit. Baus shot forward, snatching the wand away, thus breaking the spell. The watchman teetered back in muttering confusion, glaring about with perplexity.
With certain definite distaste, the nobleman Hysgode flourished a hand pompously. “Vulde, I beseech you to seize these vagrants and confiscate their weapons. They are obviously deceitful opportunits. I sense their character is of low breed no less. We know little of them—so it demands an investigation. At minimum they should be held for questioning, at least until we have analyzed this situation at length. The strange wand, for example—it harbours the marks of the macabre!”
Delizra cried out keenly: “Will you not let me have a moment to explain? These two men, as I have stated, protected me from the ogre. They may appear dishevelled, but they are my saviours no less.”
The Vulde addressed his daughter with keen courtesy. “There is something in what you say, Delizra. Forsooth, it would be an inexcusable breach of etiquette to betray our trust of visitors without significant evidence of guilt. Our own town of Krintz has always been hospice to wanderers, young and old.” He turned a glance upon Baus. “You may keep your curio, Baus, but for the time being I will withhold the golden gladius. I am entrusting it to Tulesio until I know more about the part you have played in this imbroglio.”
Hysgode winced. “I believe you speak too liberally for these vagabonds, sir.”
The Vulde’s lips parted with fury and prompted Hysgode to make a hasty alteration to his statement, “Of course, it is only my opinion that they are rogues. If ill comes of this venture though—”
“‘Ill’ shall not come of it, Hysgode! Now curb your insufferable misgivings. I tolerate your sanctimony only because you are to be my daughter’s spouse, as much a mistake as that may be.”
Glowering, the nobleman lowered his gaze. His eyes flashed with rancour on the intruders, a gesture that was not missed by Baus or Valere. It appeared that to irritate the Vulde at this sensitive time was a foolish course and Hysgode set his grimace into a harsher mask. At the moment, a young, corpulent woman waltzed into the room—a woman of such dominant bearing and dressed so flimsily bare in a white silk nightgown and pale brown moccasins that had all blinking in embarrassment. Disturbed by the tumult from across the hall, she had quickly learned that Delizra had been nearly kidnapped by the
ogre and Baus had heard the name Griselda mentioned—the Vulde’s oldest daughter. Where Delizra was dazzling, Griselda was squat and plump and borderline obese, with ox-like features and maturing harelip and an indecorous mass of flesh gracing her abdomen; withal, a maid with qualities considerably less than desirable—as facts would have it, traits inherited from her mother.
Griselda squared beefy hands on hips and roared out a mighty oath: “Thieves and monsters in the night! Glory told! No good has come of Mother’s absence from this gloomy house!”
“Nor any harm either,” soothed the Vulde. “Now, Griselda, please go back to bed.”
“I will do nothing of the sort.” She gave her sister a cold appraisal and brushed the two trespassers a look of carnal inquiry. Baus was taken by surprise at the attention, no less, Valere. The two shifted uncomfortably, clearing their throats.
The lascivious hints were not missed by the Vulde who grimaced and consoled his daughter, but the efforts seemed fraught with hostility.
Hysgode grudgingly escorted Baus and Valere down a narrow hall into the common room, then to negotiate the wide, luxurious staircase which led to the upper chambers, while the lord stayed behind to see Delizra and Griselda to bed. At the top of the landing, the butler Velnar intercepted them. Baus took opportunity to scan the lavish surroundings. Over the railing a knot of fifteen retainers clustered about the hearth, now roaring with flame. Amongst the figures, members of the town watch clanked about the salon with swords and bills. They were brusque, fastidious men with bright red- and green-liveried costumes. Baus saw the Vulde emerging from Griselda’s room and heard snippets of conversation given to the watchmen to bind and secure the Dakkaw’s limbs with extra cord.