Night Arrant (35 page)

The monster's snaky pate was hissing and writhing in anger and pain, with red eyes nearly bulging from her snarling visage as she sought to fix her tormentor with her petrifying stare.

But the devious thief was already elsewhere. A leap, a tumbling roll, and a catlike recovery brought him to where the room's chandelier was fastened by a chain to its central position overhead. With a mighty hack, the long, thick-bladed dagger severed the bronze links. The chandelier plummeted down, and the pain-maddened medusa had all she could do to avoid its fall. The chamber was now dark, save for the light spilling down the stairs from the room above, and Gord noted that even that illumination was virtually shut off by the blocky form of Pledd shambling down to assist his mistress. No matter; Gord needed no light, for his sword enabled him to see well enough in absolute blackness. Not knowing this, the medusa screamed her awful rage again and leaped to grapple with her opponent. She thought to grasp Gord and hold him fast while the asplike growths that were her hair sent their venom surging into the slender human form, which would then blacken and die in agony.

"Yargh!" Gord exclaimed in horror as he perceived the medusa's intent. While holding forth the dagger in his left hand to fend off her grasping lunge, the young adventurer swung his sword instinctively in an arc from right to left. Its blade sheared off the mass of thumb-thick, writhing ex-crescencies as a scythe cuts ripe grain. The combination of parry and thrust was sufficient to keep the monster off him and bring an end to the contest. With a final, gut-wrenching screech, the medusa fell to the floor, stone dead.

"What's happened?" Pledd asked loudly as he reached the bottom of the stairs and squinted into the near-darkness. He was standing in the doorway, his twisted form silhouetted by the descending light Before coming back from the chamber above, he had acquired a double-headed flail. He swung the spiked heads of the weapon back and forth blindly before him as he peered around, seeking to learn where his mistress was. A few seconds later, Gord answered the question in a gruff and terrible-sounding voice.

"She is dead, Pledd — as dead as you will soon be, unless you toss aside that little flail and surrender nowl"

The hunchback spent only a second absorbing that bit of information. Unable to see the creature who had killed his mistress, able only to guess what terrible powers it might have. Pledd simply let go of the flail. As it clattered to the floor, he spoke. "Spare my life, demon or devil, whichever you might be. I will gladly show you where all the treasures she took are stored!" The voice of the fellow wavered and cracked. He was truly frightened by the unknown peril.

Gord spoke again from the darkness. "Make no light, move slowly and directly. Go to the place the valuables are. Reveal them fully, and step back. If you fail to obey a single one of those commands, I will rend you limb from limb . . . slowly!"

"Y-y-yes, m-m-master," the hunchback stammered as he turned to go back up the flight of steps. Then he halted and said in a pleading voice. "Oh, master, what am I to do? I will make no light myself, but the place above is already illuminated by the foul medusa's command."

"Go upward, worm," Gord said from another place in the room. Pledd swiveled his head in surprise at the new location of the voice, but Gord knew he could see nothing still. "I will follow you, although you will not see me. Extinguish the light, go to the treasure, and reveal it Go now!"

The rest was simple. Pledd was absolutely cooperative, tried no tricks, and even volunteered information on the contents of the brass chest that held the collected loot of the dead medusa. Gord shuddered at the thought of those who had died in order to gain the wealth — but that did not stop him from scooping it all into a leather sack.

"Crook-back, this is more than I expected. Because you did not resist, I grant you your life, as well as whatever share of this treasure you have already received from your foul mistress." Pledd began to profusely thank his unseen adversary, but Gord cut him short. "Should you remain in Greyhawk after tonight, I will not spare your miserable life again. If the setting of the sun on the morrow sees you within the city, I will come for your soul itself!"

Pledd was looking around the dark room, babbling assurances of his immediate departure from the city, as the young thief stole downstairs. It took but a couple of minutes for Gord to find the hidden catch, unlock and open the door, and exit the tower. Gord's emotions ran the gamut as he headed down the street and back toward the Lotus House. He smiled to himself as he envisioned the hunchback still gibbering his gratitude in the upmost story of the tower, not aware that he was now alone. Then he shivered with revulsion at the thought of the medusa and the horrible fate he had just escaped. A moment later he was happy again, for his haul was indeed all he had hoped for.

He lost no time getting back to the Lotus House and giving Ageella the good news. "Slip away as soon as you can," Gord whispered into her ear as she left the dance floor and took a seat at his table.

Ageelia frowned slightly and said, "The risk is great, and tomorrow I am to be sold, so I doubt I can get free for a tryst, Gord."

It was just after midnight. Gord knew Ageella would perform no more tonight, although the establishment would entertain customers for several hours yet. He could contain himself no longer. "This is no assignation, my love!" he beamed. "I want you to come and see what I have."

"I have seen it before," she said.

"Stop this coy jesting, lady of my dreams." Gord said with a pleading tone and a hurt look. "I am trying to tell you I have more than the price the Overking's agents have brought. I will purchase your freedom — tonight!"

"More than a thousand gold orbs?" Ageelia's look displayed pure disbelief.

Gord took her hand and placed a brooch in her little palm. Ageella gasped, for the pin was set with a dazzling array of diamonds and a huge emerald as clear and green as the girl's eyes.

"This is a small gift," he said with obvious pride.

"But it is worth at least fifty or a hundred orbs itself!" Ageelia managed to utter. "You have this, and enough to pay for my freedom besides?"

"Yes — a thousand times yes," Gord replied fervently, "and I will purchase your freedom so that you may freely give me your love."

"Oh, Gord, I do love you! I will be with you in an hour."

"Promise!" he commanded.

Ageelia was rising, but she trailed her hand across the young thiefs brow, caressing his ear, his hair. "I wouldn't miss being there for the world, love. I promise," she said softly. Then she slipped through the curtained doorway at the rear of the room.

During the second hour of the day, that dull and dark time when most folk slept. Ageelia and Gord laughed and loved and let precious gems and glittering coins trickle through their fingers. Finally they made neat stacks of platinum plates and gold orbs, placing each pile carefully inside a heavy iron box that was usually concealed within the apartment's water closet. Until Gord had returned from slaying the medusa, the box had held only a handful of coins of small value. Now, in addition to the hundred and a half great coins, it contained a varicolored array of loose gems and sufficient jewelry to finance a war.

"There is twice a thousand gold orbs here, Gord!" Ageelia exclaimed. "You are wonderful!"

Gord kissed her full, red mouth passionately, then held her at arm's length and laughed. "You are a treasure worth more than all the gold and gems in the world, Ageelia."

"How much is really here, my love?"

"The worth of all this, reduced to coin, will be slightly more than one and one-quarter thousand gold orbs — it depends on the mood of my fence, Basil, and his available cash, too. The Malik is taking a chance to renege on his bargain with the Overking, so I thought I would offer him some incentive — virtually all of this, say one and one-quarter thousand gold, for your liberty." At this. Ageelia shook her head in wonder, her raven tresses glimmering in the golden lamplight.

Not sure what her gesture indicated, Gord hastened to explain. "Even if it takes the whole of this stuff, dearest one, you have the brooch, and I will hold onto a few coins to see us through. I will not be so bold with the practice of my . . . arts . . . when we are together, but with care we will be able to live comfortably—"

Ageelia cut him off with a kiss and an embrace. Laughing happily, she told him, "Quiet now. Gord. You are already beginning to sound like a husband!" She turned her back to him briefly, poured wine from an alabaster ewer, then turned back again and handed one of the goblets to the young thief while keeping one for herself. "Now, let us drink to our future. Soon enough it will be daylight. Then you must take this all to Xestrazy . . . and what will we do if he refuses?"

At that, Gord laughed. "He won't pass up so fat a sum as I will bring to him. Never!" So stating, the happy swain quaffed his wine and carelessly tossed the goblet aside. "Now let's enjoy the last hours of darkness in celebration of what is to come."

Ageelia smiled a seductive, cryptic smile, drank her wine to the dregs, and refilled both vessels. "Let it be so!"

Her ready affirmation was the last thing Gord remembered of that evening of supposed love. . ..

Somehow he managed to swim through the oily water. It was black as pitch and thick as molasses, but he could breathe and see. Far above was a redness, and he knew this was the burning floor of hell. Why must he leave the comfort of this liquid, its cool and weightless peace, to tread the cruel, iron floor above that glowed with molten heat? Even as that thought went sluggishly through his mind, soft tentacles wrapped themselves around his body. He felt powerless to resist, and slowly, slowly, Gord began to sink into the depths from which he had just come...

No! Searing, white flashes shot through his brain. New strength flowed along his nerves, and he began to kick his feet and strain his arms. The enwrapping members came free as if they were tendrils of smoke. With powerful, lunging motions Gord- shot through the cloying fog that sought to smother and drown him. With a shout, his whole torso broke through the surface. Gord gasped for air. Now, if he must, he would face the fiends of hell.

In the next couple of seconds his vision came into focus. He was not in the netherworld after all — he was sitting up in his bed, the red rays of the rising sun reflecting so strongly off the open lid of the iron strongbox that they nearly blinded him. His head ached and throbbed so much he thought he would vomit from the pain. Each of his arms seemed encased in lead, each leg as heavy as a tree trunk. His brain reeled and begged him to close his eyes and sleep once more. Mustering every physical and mental resource he could command, Gord managed to roll out of bed, pull open a secret drawer, and quaff the contents of a small vial his numb fingers found therein.

Somehow his drugged mind had recalled and sought out the stuff he now guzzled. This elixir, this magical potion he drained, had cost him dearly, but it was proving to be worth every bit of the price. It was for those who had need of countering the effects of privation — lack of food, drink, even sleep. The stuff also countered infection and poison. Alcohol being a poison, and most drugs likewise, Gord tried to keep some of the elixir on hand at all times to enable him to carouse and then later nullify the effects of the dissipation in order to ply his trade.

And it was with that purpose in mind that Gord had downed a small amount of the substance the previous evening, just before the treasure-counting, wanting to remain awake all night in order to be able to drink in Ageella's beauty and consume the wine he had purchased for their celebration without being forced to waste this precious time in slumber. Now he was using the liquid for another purpose altogether — to offset the devilish drug he had ingested through no fault of his own.

"Perhaps an hour's head start, but no more than two," he muttered to himself as he noted the time of day and examined his room. Ageelia had certainly drugged his wine, picked the lock of the chest, and left with its contents. As he turned over in his mind the events of his last encounter with Ageelia, Gord cursed himself as he realized that he had let slip one vital piece of information — the name of the one who could turn the gems and trinkets into ready coin. Then he regained his composure and patted his shortsword and dagger fondly, glad that these, at least, had not attracted the treacherous bitch's avaricious attention. He stalked out of the apartment, his purposeful stride eating up distance at a brisk rate. Gord was heading for a small shop but a stone's throw from the Hillgate. There, one could exchange stolen goods of high value for gold coins of almost any nation.

"Gord, my friend." the sleazy proprietor of the establishment said with forced cheerfulness after he had been roused. "Are you out late or up early?"

"Save the dung for fertilizing your flower garden, ratface!" Gord snarled in reply. With a move too quick for the nervous little man to follow, Gord grabbed him by his hair and pressed his dagger's edge to the fence's throat. "How long ago was she here? And how much did you give her?"

"Who are you talking about? I don’t know— "

A little blood trickled from a small cut on the man's neck. "One more tying word, Basil, and you won't need to worry about that little catamite you keep housed in the Gardens! You know I mean the girl Ageelia — the long-haired dancer from the Lotus House. She must have come with a man calling himself Malik Xestrazy."

Basil was nearly breaking his neck trying to keep his throat away from the magically sharp blade of the dagger. He tried to smile and beg at the same time. "Oh, yes, that girl. I didn't understand at first. Please, Gord." he whimpered, "for the sake of our long and mutually profitable business together, let loose, and I'll gladly tell you anything you wish to know."

"You'll tell me all, now, held fast with the edge at your jugular, or else I'll spill your life all over this miserable shop," Gord said. Basil knew he meant it, so the man began chattering.

"Not an hour ago the woman of whom you speak — you say her name's Ageelia? Well, this Ageelia and her lov— her associate, Xestrazy, were here. They laid out a fortune in stones and jewelry, claiming to need coin in trade for their family heirlooms. I didn't question the validity of the claim, as I should think you'd understand, for who cares what claims are made as to where such stuff comes from?" When Gord refused to react to this observation of one thief to another, the little man averted his eyes from the other's stony lace and hurriedly went on.