Gord The Rogue - Night Arrant - Part 9
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Part 9

Meanwhile, the barbarian had whittled the ice down to where the sun would soon complete the work, so he rested on his axe and watched the captives with a flinty gaze. It took little urging for them to complete the task and meekly return to a huddled group near the two humans.

"What a pitiful treasure!'' Gord said with disgust. There, on a worn and dirty cloak, was the sum of the wealth the brigands had possessed. No more than a hundred coins, and nothing larger than a copper common in the lot. There were a few pieces of cheap jewelry and one silver-studied belt. "No wonder they sought to rob wayfarers. Even a Mede-glan pilgrim would be likely to enrich such a poor lot as this!"

"Now can we eat?" Pinkus asked hopefully.

"Cut it out now, pal. If we eat them, we won't be able to enlist them on our quest I think that would be putting them to much better use, don't you? After all. you don't want to have to deal with indigestion in addition to whatever else we might encounter, now do you?" Gord asked condescendingly. Pinkus looked disappointed, but he nodded agreement. Gord turned to the dozen or so survivors of Crazed Cob's corps.

"Bury your comrades, and leave a place for the magic-user, too." Meanwhile Chert had finally broken the ice, so to speak, and the body of the sorcerer could now be searched.

"What's he got?" Gord asked, peering over the crouching barbarian's shoulders.

"A fat purse and a gold brooch, I think," Chert called back. "Just a second, and we'll see!"

It turned out that the "gold" was only washed bra.s.s, and the purse was a leather pouch filled with the various packets and stuffs of dweomercraefting. So much for that The now-enlarged band of questers set out for the bandits' encampment, which, as luck would have it, was on the same route the dweomer compelled the quartet to tread. Along the way the group encountered the grazing steed of Lord Maheal, and nearby was that worthy's p.r.o.ne form, asleep In a patch of warm sunlight 126.

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GORD THE ROGUE *

"Boo!" Pinkus barked In the n.o.bleman's ear, and grinned to show his huge teeth as the startled fellow's eyes popped open.50 "Yeow!" Maheal shrieked, trying to jump up and run away at the same time. This resulted in a comical heap, with the ogreling and Maheal in a tangle, for all the Szek of Dohou-Yohpe had managed to do was to bound upright and then flop upon the ogre-magus. Pinkus attempted to throw the offending form from his person, and Maheal struggled desperately to get free. The problem was that these efforts seemed to make the two more inextricably entangled than ever. Screams, growls, and other less Identifiable sounds emerged from the pile. The captive bandits sn.i.g.g.e.red and jeered, until Gord ordered them into the frey to a.s.sist. Although he was enjoying the spectacle, he feared that the fainthearted Maheal would suffer bodily harm soon unless the pair was untangled.

When they finally managed to straighten things out, Maheal's plum-colored doublet was shredded, and his particolored hose of citrine and puce were ruined. Calling down terrible curses upon everyone in general and Pinkus in particular, the n.o.bleman trudged off with the group. Cord had determined that Lord Maheal would go afoot hereafter, for when horsed, he was always riding away.

There was nothing of value at the outlaw hideout, although they found a fair amount of cold game to eat and enough horses to provide mounts for all of the prisoners.

Gord located the slim tomes that contained the writings of the now-deceased spell-user. These books he had tucked away without informing anyone, for he knew that such works had considerable value to certain persons. They didn't linger at the camp, because the effects of the en-thrallment made the quartet restless and irritable.

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To a.s.sure the cooperation of the outlaws, Gord made the twelve of them swear a blood-curdling oath of fealty to their captors as Pinkus looked on with a leering expression of awful sort on his ugly visage. Having Chert nearby with his huge axe was definite^ a big plus, and it didn't hurt when the young rogue proclaimed that all of the loot taken from the group would be divided among the survivors who were faithful to their new,leaders until the end of their quest.

The former bandits eagerly vowed to serve as men-at-arms for their new masters, casting doubtful looks at both the ogre-magus and Lord Maheal as they did so. Gord made it clear that these new henchmen were to seek direction princ.i.p.ally from either Chert or himself. That done, they were again on the trail, Maheal now seated atop his steed once more but this time neatly surrounded by the pack of newly created soldiery.

The Gnatmarsh came all too soon, but despite the swarms of hungry insects and the hazards of trekking through the mire, the party pressed ever deeper into the mora.s.s.

The former bandits complained less than either Lord Maheal or the ogrish Pinkus.

Gord suspected that the bestowing of all the loot taken from them and their former a.s.sociates was only a part of the reason for this behavior. This suspicion was confirmed shortly.

"Not makin' much speed." a bandit named Zimp said to the young thief.

"Considering this miserable mud." Gord replied, "I think a league a day is exceptional time."

Zimp scratched his beard with dirty fingers - at this point everyone was mud-encrusted, even the meticulous Szek of Dohou-Yohpe. Although Zimp was acknowledged by the others as their noncommissioned officer, more or less, the outlaw wasn't 129.

GORD THE ROGUE *

quite sure of his relationship to Gord yet The young adventurer wanted him to understand that he could speak up without fear. "It's right amazin', sir, the way you and Master Chert Is makln* a beeline, as they say, straight toward Grimalkinsham. Ain't none o' us ever seen the likes before!"

"Grimalkinsham? Beeline? Are you telling me you and your men know where we're headed?"

Zimp peered hard at Gord to see if he was angry. When it was clear that he was only surprised.. Zlmp said. "Me an' the boys have been in an' out o* this here marsh a few times, and Grimalkinsham ain't a bad place a'tall to spend time in - specialty when things roundabout get hot, so to speak."

"Tell me more, sergeant." Gord said with a grim expression on his face.

Beaming back in relief, Zimp nodded enthusiastically. "First, cap'n. we got to get51 outta this mess and foller the causeway. ... V mean I'll be a-gittin* a sergeant's share o' treasure?"

"Yes Indeed! Show me the causeway."

A little later the party was wending its way along a relatively dry track that snaked here and there through the marsh. They avoided the bottomless pools, willow thickets, and who knew what else, covering ground at a far more rapid rate and without the mud. Only the swarms of Insects reminded them of their presence in the dreaded mora.s.s of Gnatmarsh.

"B"ware goin' beyond this here hummock 'til nighttime," Zlmp told Gord. "That there catoblepas will get us sure otherwise," he added laconically.

"Catoblepas? Here?"

"Yep," Zimp confirmed with determination and then asked, "Ever see un?"

Gord shook his head back and forth and signaled for those following behind to halt 130.

"Me neither." said Zimp, "and I don't rightly care to, either, sir. It basks in the sun all day, I'm told, then snoozes the dark away. When twilight comes we got t'

hurry quick as Tifly Tumbleskln, as they say. That'll get us Inta Grimalkinsham afore full dark."

"You mean we have to travel several miles in a mere hour?" Gord asked the outlaw doubtfully.

"Yessir! Who'd want to be on this here track at night? Lessen he was partial to green hags, spooks, and that lot, o'course." Zlmp replied, casting an unbelieving glance at his commander.

"Right you are, Sergeant Zimp. Glad we agree there!" Gord said quickly, dismounting and signaling the others to do the same. "Now, as there's a bit of a wait before the sun starts to set. tell me all you know about Grimalkinsham. I hear the place Is crawling with witches."

Zimp waved off that observation. "Grimalkinsham is a tad on the tough side, that's sartin," the former bandit said sagely, "but there be no more witches there than in most places."

"How can you be sure of that?" Gord asked, securing his horse to one tree and then sitting down under another a few feet away.

Zimp followed suit before answering the young rogue. "That's an easy un. cap'n,"

Zimp said with a smile. "I been to the village four, mebee five times. Ain't once seen a la.s.s over thirty, nor a wench that wasn't a Ic.o.keiT Just then Lord Maheal, who had refused to dismount, interrupted them. "Come along, you fellows! This is no time to be discussing such rude matters - we have a quest to complete!" The narcissistic n.o.bleman managed to add the last few words with sneering accusation, despite the fact that it was he who had been continually trying to dodge the whole 131.

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affair. Gord gave Maheal a look that failed to convey just how much disgust the young thief was feeling toward the troublesome Szek of Dohou-Yohpe. The cad, who had managed to outfit himself in reasonably fresh clothing he had taken from his seemingly endless store of garments, was a nauseating spectacle. He was decked out In a belted paisley smock of watered silk, high buskins of fawn color, and a deep brown, feathered velvet cap, which complemented the c.u.mmerbund that cinched the smock to his waist "Why don't you go on ahead?" Gord suggested, winking at Zlmp. "The sergeant tells me the village offers excellent accommodations."

"What?! Risk the life of a n.o.ble? Utter nonsense! You two louts forge ahead now, and I shall lead the main party after, as is proper. Come along now, let's get cracking!"

Zimp spat, and Gord looked twice but saw no sign of jesting in the n.o.bleman. Maheal was serious! Such temerity, unblushing at that, brought a grudging respect to Cord's heart. What a fine confidence man and swindler this lordllng would have made, had he received proper training as a child. Well, no help for that now. Things were as they were. Gord rose to his feet and walked over to the would-be commander. The look in the young thlefs eyes showed that he was in no mood for nonsense. The Szek of Dohou-Yohpe squirmed a bit in the saddle.52 "Maheal" - Gord distinctly enunciated each syllable of his name - "I'm only going to tell you this once. Then, if you still Insist on being a pompous a.s.s, I'm going to mess up your frilly clothes and smear mud all over your pretty face!" Maheal's face turned a bright shade of crimson. Gord reached up and took the horse's reins from Maheal's now-clammy hands. He then motioned for the humiliated 132.

n.o.bleman to step down off his horse and waited while Maheal obediently complied.

Then Gord continued. "Now, I want you to stop trying to play commander and get back with the rest!" The young n.o.bleman opened his mouth to argue, but Gord cut him off.

"Now! Or should I turn you over to Plnkus for disciplining?"

Maheal hastened to do as he was told but called back angrily over his shoulder as he walked away, "You'll be sorry for this, churl, when things are set aright!" Then he strutted back to where the others rested, pompously straightening his garments and dusting his hands as if he had just performed an heroic feat Thanks to Zlmp and several of the other former brigands, they negotiated the rest of the way to Gri-malklnsham before full dark and without incident. The place lay in the center of a scrubby woodland, but at least the area was dry. The village consisted of forty or fifty huts and hovels sprawled around a score of more substantial buildings. Half of the larger structures were taverns, gaming houses, and inns. It seemed that this place did a brisk business with rogues and outlaws.

Totems and ringed stone pillars encircled the community. Gord could just make out some of the marks in the fading light. The symbols were meant to keep certain horrible things out He hoped that these wards were efficacious.

A few dogs barked and snarled as they rode Into the village, but no other inhabitant of Grimalkin-sham seemed the least bit interested in their arrival. At Zlmp's suggestion, they housed themselves at the smallest of the three inns. For the price of a handful of bronze zees and a couple of bra.s.s bits, all 133.

sixteen of them were able to get good beds. They bathed and ate while the stablehands cared for their horses and fed the animals.

Cord thought It strange, and disappointing, that all of the servants at the Inn were men. "Where are the pretty la.s.ses you mentioned. Zlmp?"

"No sense mixing our rest with our romps," the outlaw said slyly. "We'll be meetin'

plenty o' likely wenches soon enough, and they'll give us a workout you won't believe! This place is a safe haven after such a storm!"

Chert slammed his fist on the table and cried out, "Now here's a stout lad! Let's drink to a lively time this night," he said, and upended the huge flagon of ale he held in his pawlike hand. The outlaws at the long trestle laughed lasciviously and likewise drained their tankards. Only Plnkus and Ma-heal demurred.

"I find human females ugly In the extreme," the ehjure muttered.

"Consorting with common trulls Is beneath my station!" the Nyrondel lordling sniffed haughtily.

Gord, Chert, and the others ignored them. After a few additional rounds of the thick, amber ale, which was brewed somewhere nearby, they decided it was time to explore the village. Gord and Chert had determined that It was excellent cover to do so with a bunch of roistering bandits. Neither had yet been exposed to whatever it was that would trigger the final bit of information they needed. When this occurred, they would know what "the test" was. They both a.s.sumed that it would involve the recovery of some prize, possibly the elimination of some evil enemy of the king, and then a return to Castle Fizzlak, The place, thing, or person that would cause the dweomered information to spring into their minds was possibly somewhere here in 134.

the village called Grimalktnsham. They hoped to discover the answers this very night.

Cord's eyes nearly popped from his head when they entered an establishment called Rosey's. The sign, appropriately sprinkled with rosebuds, didn't half prepare the young adventurer for what awaited inside. There were only a few patrons, all male.

But the proprietress and her staff numbered at least a dozen and a half - and greater beauties Gord had never seen gathered together in a single place! He scarcely had time to wonder why the tavern wasn't Jammed to the rafters with panting53 swains. Then a pair of buxom tarts were upon him, offering him drink and companionship, and before Gord knew it he was being led toward the stairs. He was escorted past the huge ehjure, who was holding a tall, willowy woman on his lap.

"Hey, Pinkus! I thought you said humans were ugly," Gord playfully taunted.

The ogreling scowled at Gord. retorting, "They are, niggling - but I didn't know that you went for my type!"

Something clicked in Gord's mind. "Your type?" he asked, the horrifying reality of the situation sinking in at last The two girls tugged on him, trying to pull the young thief away, but Gord would have none of that. Plnkus was pouring wine down his gullet, but Gord didn't let that put him off either. Pulling free of the pair of wenches, he walked over to the ogre's table and peered closely at the big woman sitting on his lap. Pinkus slammed down his tankard and jumped to his feet "Get the h.e.l.l away from my female!" he roared at Gord.

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This action rudely precipitated the object of Cord's scrutiny. As the ogre-magus sprang to his feet with intent to do serious bodily harm to the young thief who was ogling the female of his choice, the beautiful young thing struck the floor - and a strange thing happened. The force of the impact caused her form and features to waver and, for a second, the female's true appearance was revealed. Gord caught the transformation out of the corner of his eye. Springing back, he shouted, "The wench is a hog!"

"Of course she is!" screamed the enraged Pinkus as he advanced menacingly upon the young adventurer. "And you can't have her, you filthy human lecher! Go find your own!"

Gord ducked under a wild swing and danced behind the ogre-magus's back, calling to Chert to beware. He saw that there was a bevy of these seeming lovelies surrounding the big barbarian, and Gord suspected that they were not as they appeared at aji.

Meanwhile, Zimp and a pair of his comrades had rushed over to a.s.sist their young captain, thinking that Pinkus was about to make mincemeat of him. Of course, they did not reckon with Cord's incredible agility and acrobatic skills. Roaring and cursing, the ehjure was attempting to lay his taloned hands upon Gord and rend him limb from limb. Pinkus was both tipsy from wine and naturally slow. Gord was neither, and he easily avoided every attack, causing the ogreling to paw the air and charge bull-like Into furniture and patrons alike.

In a minute a general brawl was in progress, with wenches forgotten or else taking part in very unladylike fashion. Suddenly the whole room went dark. It was so black that not a single ray of light could be detected.

Gord always carried his enchanted shortsword at 136.

his hip, and as soon as the darkness descended, he grasped the hilt and his eyes were empowered to see in the gloom. In addition to the groping and stumbling motions of the patrons, Gord noted that several of the people in the tavern were moving freely and with purpose. In the strange illumination that his blade enabled him to discern, the women were no longer young and beautiful. In fact, many weren't even women at all! In the shelter of the darkness the hags had dispensed with their magical disguises, and the young thief was able to spot a half-dozen crones heading for the stairway. Nearby were a pair of green hags, a sh.e.l.lycoat. an annls, and a leering night hag. Unfortunately, the latter was looking squarely at Gord as he stared in stupefaction at her.

"Well, well, my pretty," the creature cackled at the young thief, "it happens that you have the power to see in this dark, do you? Now what shall old Auntie Scroddy do with such a naughty boy?" Gord waved his sword at her, for she and her a.s.sociated horrors were coming toward him.

Just then Pinkus, whose natural resistance to magic made the lightless spell useless against him, stepped between these monsters and their victim. "If you want action, baby, forget that little punk and look for a real male!" he boomed, showing his huge tushes in a suggestive smile. At least Gord a.s.sumed that was what the ehjure was doing from the tone of his voice.

The night hag simpered and replied, "Oh, you are a smooth talker, handsome, but right now I have to take care of a little business. Can you wait a couple of54 minutes?"

The annis, easily as tall as Pinkus, shoved the night hag aside with a snarl. "Find your own lover, you pruneface!" she screeched as she clutched the 137.

ognellng's arm possessively.

The night hag flexed her clawed hands and spat. "I'm sick of your pretensions, you b.i.t.c.hy old beanpole! It's time for you and I to get a few things straight!" At that.

Auntie Scroddy grabbed Pinkus's other arm and yanked him toward her with surprising strength.

"Don't let that floozy push you around, Ugweelal" said one of the green hags to the annis.

"Mind your own business, Brinlugi, you b.i.t.c.h!" the other green hag said, taking up the cause of the night hag.

Gord took the opportunity to dash over to where Chert was stumbling around in the dark, trying unsuccessfully to do something useful - such as groping one of the serving wenches he imagined to be temptingly nearby. Gord took hold of him and shouted, "Follow me quickly! This place is a den of hags and witches!" Chert obeyed meekly, and the young thief led him through the mess of overturned tables and chairs, benches and milling bodies. The pair had almost made it to the exit when their progress was stopped.

"Not so fast, boys," a cracked, scratchy voice ordered. "If you take one more step toward the door I'll turn you both into frogbeasts!" The speaker was a witch, human in form but ugly nonetheless.

"What's a frogbeast?" Chert asked.

"A thing created by the wizard Denimarkz,", the crone supplied helpfully.

"Huh?" the barbarian said.

"Shut up and let's go," Gord urged.

"You're asking for it!" screeched the black-clad witch.

With that. Chert lowered his head and moved. Gord held him back. The crone was standing inside the doorway making threatening pa.s.ses with her hands and squinting balefully at both young men. "Give it up. Chert," his friend advised. "It looks like we're trapped."

That's more like it" the witch said with a smile that displayed her lone tooth. "Now turn around, and we'll go to someplace private where we can have a little chat-Just as the two of them turned, the altercation between Auntie Scroddy and Ugweela escalated. They were no longer screaming insults at one another; the two were suddenly mixing it up like a pair of furious alley cats. This was enough to bring the two green hags to blows as well. As all of them fell Into a scratching, clawing, biting tangle, the witch's attention was distracted Just long enough to allow Gord to perform a back-flip. He landed beside the startled witch, his weapons out in an instant "Now it's your turn, darling!" he cried, with his sword across her throat and his dagger pressed to her side. "One move, and you're dead meat!" In fact, she smelled pretty much like she was dead already, but Gord tried to ignore the odor.

"Don't be hasty now, my boy!" the crone said, mustering as much sweetness as she could. "I'm sure you and I can reach an arrangement ..."

"Cancel the darkness - and be quick," Gord ordered harshly, "or I'll slice your throat and skewer your shriveled liverl"

"How can I do that?" the witch asked with real concern in her tone. "If I make any motions you'll kill me, but 1 have to move to dispel the magic!"

"Go ahead," Gord said with suspicion, "but one false move and I'll wet my blades with your black blood!"

In a moment the deed was done, and the room was again brightly illuminated by lamps and flre-light. As the magically induced blackness was lifted.

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