Night Arrant (2 page)

That adventure had begun when, by sheerest chance, the two had stumbled upon the lair of a small group of outlaws. It was a confrontation neither side expected, but Gord's lightninglike reflexes had enabled him and Chert to have the advantage. The hard-fought combat that followed earned both the young thief and his hulking companion numerous wounds. The surviving outlaws begged for quarter and received it from the two. In return, Gord and Chert took all the holdings these brigands possessed in ill-gotten gains. The sum was trifling, but the haul included a map showing a place far below the castle where other bandits had hidden a vast store of loot.

Gord and Chert had enlisted the captive outlaws into their ranks, followed the map, and ended up finding nothing but horrors and disgusting things that haunted the stony tunnels and rooms there. It should have been more than a sufficient lesson for both. But...

. . . Here they were again, footsteps echoing in the vaulted hall, heading for the place in the center of the old castle. Eneever Zig was leading them directly to the broad steps that spiralled down to the endless levels that lay tinder Castle Greyhawk. The wizard was moving with great assurance, and he was showing not the least hesitation in the process. There could be no doubt that he knew at least the initial stage of this venture.

"That door there leads to a maze of passages beyond," the barbarian volunteered as they reached the end of the stairway. Then he added, almost proudly, "Gord and I have done this before."

Eneever Zig, seemingly surprised by the revelation, turned his back to the heavy portal. "This is not the way we will take, barbarian," he told the hill-man flatly. Your past experiences are nothing to me. Come."

He strode to a place where the curved wall was built out to receive the last of the big steps. The wizard fumbled around for some time before finally managing to move a small stone. "Now shove against the slab," he told Chert, pointing as he said it. The barbarian gave a casual shove, and the rectangle of hewn granite swung inward.

"I'll be dipped in boiling- "

Take this lantern and go down," Zig commanded, cutting off Chert's sentence. These steps should take us down to the place where we will begin our quest."

". . . batshit," Chert finished, a mixture of surprise and determination on his face. He accepted the proffered lantern and started down the stairs, bowing his massive trunk in order to fit through the little opening.

"You next, thief," said the wizard. "I will remain in the rear to guard us from any attack from that quarter and so that I can have my spells ready when needed."

Gord readily complied. Chert was already several steps down and moving rapidly. The lantern revealed an open, web-strewn shaft. The stairs were hewn from its rock sides, and how far the circular opening went down was indeterminable, for the feeble light that the hillman held aloft illuminated only fifteen or twenty feet ahead. But the cold draft coming upward indicated they had far to go. There was a soft rumbling from behind. Eneever Zig had closed the secret entrance to the shaft behind them, a move that pleased Gord. Now if anyone wanted to follow them into this particular part of the dungeon, they would be hard pressed to figure out how to gain entrance.

"Shun those cracks and fissures!" Eneever Zig hissed as Chert stopped to peer into one of the many narrow openings carved into the stone walls of the passage. Those are distractions of no interest, leading to places where hostile things lurk."

"Oh," the barbarian said soberly. He proceeded to get a better grip on his massive battle-axe and then hurried past the crumbling fissure.

They came to the bottom of this hidden shaft after climbing down more than two hundred feet, as far as Gord could reckon. Considering the altitude of their starting point, the young thief estimated that they must now be no less than three hundred feet beneath the hilltop upon which the fortress was built, and possibly fifty feet beneath normal ground level.

The place was chilly and damp. Strange runes and symbols covered the granite walls. Water dripped into a shallow pool that dominated the center of the place, and slight trickles ran down the walls and added to the dark liquid. Again the exit was obvious — a pair of rusted iron doors were set in the solid rock.

"What now?" Gord asked the wizard.

"Ignore those," Zig said, nodding toward the iron doors. The master of this place put many distractions and diversions throughout his playground. Look for a mark of some strange sort on the stone floor circling the pool," he commanded.

Gord, Chert, and Zig circled the pool several times, each set of eyes intent on discovering some, sort of marking, though none of the three knew exactly what form that would take.

"I'm getting dizzy," Chert said after his fifth lap around the pool.

"Keep still, and keep looking!"

Gord stopped, so suddenly that the clumsy barbarian, following close on his friend's heels, was not able to halt in time to avoid a collision. Gord, who was promptly knocked off his feet, donned a wry expression and stared up at a sheepish-looking Chert.

"Geeesh, Gord! What're you doing down there?" the lumbering barbarian asked innocently.

"I wanted to get a closer look. Chert." Gord said in a patronizing tone. He waved aside the hand Chert offered in assistance and pushed himself away from the ground. But halfway up the observant thief gave a low whistle and crouched back down. "I think I see what we're looking for," he said softly to the wizard, indicating a faint scribing on the stone floor.

Brushing past the dumbfounded barbarian, Eneever Zig came to where Gord crouched. "Aha! That is the mark I sought," the spell-caster concurred when Gord pointed to the etchings on the ground. The wizard went immediately to the bare wall of the shaft and began searching there for a matching rune chiseled into the stone.

Gord and Chert followed his lead, both of them amazed at the various signs, symbols and runes covering the wall.

"It is here, just as I thought!" the wizard exclaimed excitedly. "Quickly now, both of you. Stand in the pool and I will join you momentarily."

"Are you keeping track of all this, Gord?" Chert whispered to his friend.

"Yeah, for what it's worth, I am. Chert, but you had better try to remember a few things, too."

The wizard was casting some sort of spell. Gord was unable to fathom what the dweomer was, but after making several passes in the air and uttering some tongue-twisting syllables, Eneever Zig rapped the wall with a small silver rod, turned, and dashed into the pool, the spray from his hurried entry wetting both adventurers as they stood in the ankle-deep water.

"ow! We're going to drown!" Chert cried as he noticed that the water had suddenly started to rise — rapidly! Or were they sinking? The water now covered his chest.

"What's happening, Zig?" The young thief demanded hysterically as Chert continued to emit a few loud complaints of his own.

"Quiet," the wizard hissed. "Don't distract me. We are merely sinking through stone. Hold your breath now," the fellow added hastily, for Gord's head was about to sink under the surface of the pool.

The sensation was strange indeed. Gord felt as if he were standing on firm ground, and at the same time the pit of his stomach told him he was falling. The cold water touched his neck, moved upward to bathe his face, his head tingled, and then there was a brown-gray darkness all around. He kept holding his breath until his lungs felt as if they would burst. Suddenly the weird darkness was replaced by a normal blackness. Having his enchanted sword in hand, Gord was able to see in spite of the darkness. Chert and Eneever Zig were beside him, standing with their backs to a smooth granite wall, facing a chamber with several passages leading from it.

"That wasn't so difficult," the wizard said under his breath, seemingly impressed with his own magical prowess. Eneever Zig calmly reached over and touched the lantern that Chert held in his left hand. It had been extinguished by their passage through water and stone, but as the wizard laid his hand upon the thing, flame sputtered and sprang to life from its plaited wick. "There, now we can all see," he said.

"Now that we can see, there's something i'd like to hear. The big question is, pal, do you know how to reverse the dweomer so we can return when we want?" Gord's voice reflected his skepticism.

"Good thinking, Gord. Just how do we leave this place?" Chert echoed his friend's question.

"We'll worry about that later," Eneever Zig answered, obviously annoyed. "It will be merely a matter of discovering the route upward and taking it."

"Discovering? What makes you so certain that there is a way out of this pit? We could be trapped here forever!" Gord was becoming uneasy, to say the least.

"Nonsense, thief! Haven't you learned to rely upon my ability yet? The same tome that enabled me to penetrate this place also mentioned a means of egress."

"Tell us both now," Gord demanded, his tone menacing. "If something should befall you, wizard, we two would be left lost and helpless. Share your information immediately!"

"Yeah, you wizzo weasel," Chert added, backing the magician into the cold granite wall. Tell us how to get out of here — now!"

Eneever ignored the threat. He pointed at each of the exits in turn, counting from left to right. "Nine, as there should be. We must follow the passage beyond the fifth arch."

Chert continued to press the wizard against the wall. "We're not going anywhere till you tell us how to get out of here!" he said, the words dripping with acid.

"You two are here to assure my success. If I die you have failed, so you will then deserve to die too! No, thief and barbarian, you shall have no share of my information. Guard me well, or we will all die here beneath Castle Greyhawk!"

"Shit! I figured something like this would happen. Grab the blaster, Gord, and I’ll make him tell us."

Gord was tempted, for the huge barbarian just might be able to twist and pummel the information from Eneever Zig. Wisdom was there to prevent the action, however. "Wait, Chert! This isn't the time or place to squabble. What if Zig manages to attack us with magic? What if he won't tell us, no matter what we do to try to make him talk? Then we'll have an out-of-commission magic-user and still no means of escape. We're in a lose-lose situation."

Then, turning to the gaunt wizard, Gord said, "You have us, as well you know. But hear this, you sorry sorcerer. Although we have no choice but to go along now, we are no longer your allies." Eneever Zig stared at the young adventurers for a moment, seeing the truth of Gord's words written on the faces of both men. "Oh. don't worry, Zig." Gord continued. "We're smart enough to be concerned about our own skins, which means we'll protect you to the full. But the moment we discover a means of egress, you are on your own!"

"Unless I have the prize I seek, thief, you and your brawny comrade will desert me at risk! You agreed to serve for the duration of this quest," Eneever retorted, giving the barbarian a hefly shove and walking away from the two angry comrades.

"Not so, old dweomercraefter," Chert growled, reaching out and grabbing the wizard as he attempted to walk away. The furious hillman slammed Eneever Zig hard against the wall and pressed his face into that of his captive. "We agreed to share, not serve, and sharing goes for information as well as treasure. Your refusal to tell us what you know about leaving this hole breaks our agreement." He loosened his hold on the spell-caster and backed off a pace.

Zig smoothed the wrinkles out of his mussed-up robe and straightened his crooked hat. "Bah! Stop babbling and yawping about escape. I'll deal with you both if you try to back out, but that isn't likely to occur any time soon. If we stand here much longer, making such a racket, we are sure to bring unwanted and hungry visitors — and that's a certainty. Now proceed through that portal there."

Gord motioned for his comrade to wait, and the young thief slipped silently ahead, disappearing into the dark tunnel with a wave to indicate the two should follow him. By his action, Gord was about forty or fifty feet ahead of the barbarian and the wizard. The pale light of the lantern behind did not interfere with the magical vision that his sword bestowed upon him, so Gord was now able to see well ahead into the corridor.

It was a hewn passage about fifteen feet wide, vaulted above, with a smooth floor and downward slope. The young thief estimated that for every ten feet of its length, the tunnel slanted downward about a foot. Strange clumps of vegetable stuff grew here and there on the walls; his sight showed the growth in a pale, bluish radiation, light given off by the matter. Gord took care to avoid the strange growths as he stole ahead.

After a time he picked up the pace. The passage ran on ahead, without turn, without adit. Gord decided that scouting well ahead was better, and, after informing Chert and Eneever as to his intentions, he left his two companions far behind. He had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile when he saw a cavern ahead. By lying flat on the floor of the passageway, Gord could peer along its downslope and see the strange place, if only in glimpses.

First there was a sheet of reddish light playing throughout the place. Fire, he guessed. It winked out in an instant, only to be replaced by a deep green light that shimmered and wavered. What that was. he couldn't tell. That, too, was transformed momentarily, and billowing vapors of pearly gray took the place of the glowing green. Just as Gord was about to clamber up and go back to warn Chert and the wizard of what lay ahead, the opalescent whiteness vanished, and blackness seemed to cover the cavern. One last look, however, revealed that the blackness was striated by bands of gray, brown, and similar somber hues — ochre, umber, terra cotta, dun.

"Now what in the Nine Hells is all that?" Gord asked aloud as he stood and ran back up the passage. As he did so, the yellow glow of the lantern shined ahead. Chert and Zig were approaching.

"What brings you back at such a pace, thief?" the wizard asked, a worried frown playing across his face.

"Chert, be ready! There's something strange ahead. I think it is dangerous too, wizard."