Month: June 2016

Jack Taylor said, “You are not Mayard Klarje.”

p-Mayard replied, “And you are not Jack Taylor.”

p-Jack said, “Haven’t been for a long time. What are you up to?”

p-Mayard answered, “I might ask you the same thing.”

p-Jack said matter-of-factly, “I’m just making a living. You, on the other hand, are masquerading as the greatest sorcerer in the land and traveling with the leaders of Gnome-town, the strongest conurbation north of Thynna.”

p-Mayard said, “Maybe these things ought to remain our little secrets. These law abiding Gnomes, particularly Captain Longbeard might start asking what really happened to the Burgomaster’s friend Jack Taylor? How many of us are involved in your little masquerade?”

p-Jack said, “As if you didn’t know. My six most trusted guards. The brace of kobolds that left just as you were arriving. And some I’m not going to tell you about. The kobolds who brought in the produce are really kobolds. We wouldn’t lower ourselves to till the soil. I could be a hero and tell your colleagues about your deception. They’d wonder about the real Mayard Klarje. The question has entered my own mind. Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t sell you out?”

p-Mayard said, “It’d be a bad idea. I am not alone.”

p-Jack said confidently, “Don’t try to con me! I know a Shapechanger’s spirit. None of your companions share our essence!”

p-Mayard asked, “Did you see the young man who rides with me?”

p-Jack said, “Yes. He’s just a youth, and the younger whelp is only a boy.”

p-Mayard said, “I’ll call him down from his room. Look closely at his face.”

p-Jack said, “I saw his face. He had the same cherry-red heart-shaped birthmark on his chin that you have created on your mug. Wait! Mayard does have the mark! The youth bears the mark of the Klarjes. Not to worry… he’s too young to be much of a threat.”

p-Mayard said, “It’s the visage of Rhiann Klarje, the great nephew and apprentice of Mayard. You, I, and he are proof that things aren’t always as they seem.”

p-Jack said, “I’m not blind. He is not Shapechanger! He is, at most, an inexperienced sorcerer.”

p-Mayard replied, “When you greeted Mayard Klarje as we entered, you did not misspeak. The youth is my boss Mayard Klarje.”

 

p-Mayard and Rhiann jumped down from the wagon. Longbeard, Cecelia Darktop, and Iyaca Vassi watered the halvsies. Two Kobolds wandered out the tavern door. Longbeard held back both his guards and disdain from the gnarly goblin-like folk. The brace of Kobolds walked briskly across the enceinte and exited the trading post. The tavern staff busily scurried around and served patrons of many ilks. Madam Darktop and Longbeard bartered for the rooms Longbeard had reserved earlier when they stopped in route to the mine camp. Rhiann marveled at the diversity of the forest folks. Kobolds entered with fresh fish, game, nuts, and fruits. The barkeep paid the Kobolds, who nervously walked past the Gnomes. The encounters only produced a few insults. Jack Taylor’s guards closed the gates at sundown. Longbeard and Cecelia finished a hearty dinner and warmed by the fireplace. Longbeard’s guards ate in shifts. When the first group finished their meals, they relieved their colleagues, who were guarding the wagons. p-Mayard, Cecelia Darktop, and Longbeard indulged in a mug of ale. Rhiann and Iyaca took in tales the threesome shared by the roaring fire. The proprietor Jack Taylor sauntered into the tavern, stared at the party for a time, and then came over to the table with refills. Longbeard Nineteen-names relayed Burgomaster Storming Norman’s message. Jack Taylor barely acknowledged it and went into stories of increased lawlessness in the area and its threat to his livelihood. Longbeard allowed Jack’s clientele brought with it risk. Madam Darktop quickly tired of the conversation and asked about their accommodations. Jack Taylor gave Madam Darktop a room he used at times… for a price, of course. Cecelia excused herself and went up the narrow stairs in the back of the room. Longbeard organized watch shifts. p-Mayard stretched. expressed his fatigue, and suggested everyone retire. they still had a day’s journey to reach Dry Creek with the heavily laden wagons.

p-Mayard stood. Rhiann and Iyaca took it as their cue to made ready for bed.

Jack Taylor placed a strong hand on p-Mayard’s shoulder and said, “Could we talk for a bit?”

p-Mayard reluctantly agreed and said, “Rhiann and Iyaca, go on to bed. I’ll be up in a while.”

Jack Taylor said, “You are not Mayard Klarje.”

p-Mayard replied, “And you are not Jack Taylor.”

Longbeard added, “Taylor runs a tight ship. His guards threw the fighting dwarf and kobold outside when we were stopped on the way to the mines. Sharing his space requires leaving conflicts at the door.”

Rhiann asked, “What happens if another fight breaks out?”

Longbeard laughed and answered, “Then Taylor will knuckle some heads. He’s a stout bloke and keeps some mercenaries on payroll. Don’t look at them too closely, Mayard. Most have prices on their heads in Thynna.”

Iyaca said nervously, “Will the Man in Black be there?”

Longbeard said, “If he is, I’ll take exception to Taylor’s ‘no fighting’ rules.”

Cecelia Darktop said, “The last info we had placed the Fearsome Foursome east of Gnome-town. They frequent the roads where the greatest wealth travels. Makes sense. They are highwaymen. Their activity and reports of kobolds again massing together have lead my mate the Burgomaster and my brother Albie to request the additional weaponry from my brother Roswell. The suns are dipping. We don’t want to travel at night and camp in the woods. Jack’s Refuge does have a palisade, though it keeps us inside with insalubrious blokes. You’re awfully quiet, Mayard.”

p-Mayard answered, “I’m just listening. Jack Taylor keeps some pretty good mead on hand. The wagons carry much heavier loads. The animals need rest.”

The little caravan crossed tobacco fields and went up and down two hills and came upon the grassy area that surrounded Jack’s Refuge. A stream traversed the large field. To the left of the road stood the way station’s wooden palisade with a guard tower and open gate. Four men armed with longbows watched from the bartizan. p-Mayard guided the phi gamms to the gate. On both sides of the gate small gate towers were occupied by a single grizzled guard. The guards kept bows trained on the approaching wagons. Cecelia Darktop grudgingly parted with Jack Taylor’s cover fee and the group entered. Diverse folks milled about the small quadrangle. Most shied away from the contingent of Gnomes. p-Mayard and Cecelia Darktop drew the most attention. Mayard Klarje frequently stopped at Jack’s Refuge on his journeys and Madam Darktop commanded attention everywhere she went. p-Mayard guided the phi gamms to the small livery. The stable masters attended the beasts of burden… for a price. Madam Darktop again grudgingly obliged.

Longbeard Nineteen names barked commands, “Stay alert! This is not Gnome-town! I want six guards on the wagons at all times.”

Morning arrived quickly and the group enjoyed a breakfast of Johnny cakes, booderry syrup, and tomaters. Madam Darktop raved about the gemstones she had gathered for new projects. Roswell reappeared for a quick good-bye and headed back to his work, which had dramatically increased through the Burgomaster Storming Norman’s order of axes and hammers. Miners had loaded treasures from the mines onto the wagons. Large quantities of copper ore filled the smaller wagon, which was to return to Dry Creek. Gnomes busily readied for departure. The ores on the wagons slowed the return trip, and the precious gems increased the likelihood of misadventure. Longbeard Nineteen-names counseled and organized his charges and soon the group bade the miners farewell. Foreman Brady escorted them to the palisade and Longbeard Nineteen-names, p-Mayard, Cecelia Darktop, two merchants from Dry Creek, Rhiann Klarje, Iyaca Vassi, and twenty other Gnomes headed up the road. Longbeard’s guards included Lieutenant Donovan Ten-names, Sergeant Rudy Nine-names, Corporal Alden Eight-names, Corporal Roro Seven-names, and archer Dibbit Five-names.

Longbeard knew the route well and kept a wary eye toward the woods and ahead when the small caravan made it to the crests of small hills. Longbeard had a very good relationship with a number of the homesteaders along the route. On the way toward the mine camp, they had stopped at an establishment run by a rogue named Jack Taylor. Taylor was very good with livestock and meaner than most highwaymen, so roughnecks generally left him to mind his business. On the other hand, Jack Taylor was opposed to dealing with anybody if there was a profit involved. Taylor called his place Jack’s Refuge. He allowed folks of all ilk but forbade pugilism.

p-Mayard commented from the wagon perch, “The phi gamms are laboring with this load. Our speed is not even half what we averaged on the way to the mine camp.”

Longbeard replied, “I’ve noticed. It’s best we spend the night at Jack’s Refuge. I made arrangements for us to have rooms. We’ll be there in an hour.”

Longbeard fought back a chuckle.

p-Mayard gripped the hilt. Exeter relayed to his mind, “Rhiann set things you up for you. Get on with it! Insure a bond of secrecy regarding my creation.”

p-Mayard thought, “He held you so now you know that isn’t Rhiann. If Mayard wants to keep you secret, here goes!”

The Shapechanger addressed the little group and said, “Exeter is a gift of Magick…of Grayness. We must keep her a secret. No one outside our small circle can learn of her existence.”

Longbeard asked, “Why, Mayard? I should wield this sword! Many a kobold and highwayman would fall before her!”

Rhiann said, “There’d be dire consequences if Exeter fell into the wrong hands.”

p-Mayard energetically reinforced his companion’s words, “Yes, yes. The weapon is Magick. I must study it. I ask you to accept my decision. Rhiann will carry the sword.”

Longbeard said, “He’s not a warrior! What value is the blade to a sorcerer, just a young one at that?”

p-Mayard stuttered, “I…I need you to trust me on this. It’s Magick, what do the kobolds say? Bad juju! After it’s vetted, we can put it to use.”

Longbeard conceded, “I prefer my axe and hammer anyway. I might be a bit short for a longsword. It’s too big for a dwarf, too, Roswell and Madam Darktop. Mayard, you’ve always been a sorcerer of your word and as good a drinking buddy as a fellow could have! If you want the **** thing kept secret, I’ll tell no one. Just you be careful young Rhiann. It’s a might large for you, too.”

Roswell Kirkey said, “I created the weapon at Mayard’s behest.

It’s a gift to Sagain. For my part, it’s a secret till you want it known.”

Madam Darktop said, “The things got a fresh attitude. I’ll keep your secret. One question… should I tell the Burgomaster? He knew Roswell was doing a job for you. He also knew you carried the odd ore.”

p-Mayard said, “True. However, he doesn’t know the ore was modified before Roswell worked with it. Roswell has created many devices for me and others in Thynna. As much as I respect the Burgomaster, ale loosens Storming Norman’s tongue. A night in the tavern would likely let our secret out. Maybe it’s best we don’t tell him. I’m not too sure about you holding your tongue, Longbeard.”

Longbeard pulled on his dark red beard and said, “Guilty as charged. You can throw a Forget Spell on me if you want. Now I’m wanting some food. Is our business finished here?”

Exeter softly replied, “I must have some secrets. Suffice it to say, I’m a sister of Grayness. The greatest mages will not understand the Magick that empowers me. My voice will appear in the mind of my wielder, but only when he grasps my hilt. I’m sympathetic and empathetic. I feel both the physical and mental wounds received by the person grasping my hilt. I’ll do all I can to save my wielder from falling in battle. I sense enemies within thirty paces and determine the enemy that poses the greatest threat. I’ll save my bearer and serve as a companion during dark, cold, lonely, and forsaken times. However, those within this room must swear to keep my existence secret.”

Rhiann said, “Why?”

Exeter said, “Grayness wishes it. Mayard requests it.”

Rhiann said, “So be it.”

p-Mayard shuffled his feet nervously.

Rhiann returned the sword to the Shapechanger and said, “I have no experience with weaponry, but I have read every volume on the subject in Thynna’s libraries. This artifact has every trait desirable in a blade. I agree with your assessment, Uncle Mayard.”

p-Mayard said, “Uh…you do?”

Rhiann said, “Yes. The weapon told me your thoughts on the matter. The existence of Exeter is known only to those within this room, is that correct, Master Roswell?”

Roswell Kirkey answered, “Yes, Rhiann, just as your Uncle Mayard instructed. By the way, it’s unnecessary to call me ‘master.’ Unlike nobles and most sorcerers, I work for a living. Sorry, no offense intended, Sister Cecelia. As Baroness of Flat Rock, you have always been an exception.”

Cecelia Darktop said, “None taken, brother. When do I get to hold the sword?”

p-Mayard without speaking extended Exeter to Madam Darktop. Cecelia gripped the sword’s hilt and indignantly said, “Well, I never!”

Cecelia  returned the sword to Mayard Klarje’s doppelganger.

Longbeard Nineteen-names asked excitedly, “What’d she say?”

Cecelia puffed, “She said that she usually preferred being held by a male, but in my case she’d make an exception. She likes my warrior spirit, but likes my bust line, hair, and beard more!”

Rhiann thought silently, “Mayard is well, at least, I think he is: he was fine when left him in his Rhiann’s guise at the Hanging Gardens. The old codger might be having himself quite a time if lovely Decima thinks he’s me.”

The voice replied, “Does your shapeless companion really believe Mayard remains at the Hanging Gardens?”

Rhiann answered in his thoughts, “Yes, he does. I think. My great uncle wanted it this way.”

Exeter asked, “Have you wondered why Mayard wanted you to come in his stead?”

Rhiann replied, “Well, yes, but he said he had tasks to perform in the Hanging Gardens. Also, he does many things that I don’t understand.”

Exeter said, “He clearly doesn’t tell you everything. He can’t keep things under his hat with me. Literally! As a heartstone I learned his thread of life was strained in his battle with the bewildebeest. He’s aging rapidly. You’d best conclude this adventure and make haste to the Hanging Garden… if you desire his company again.”

Rhiann said aloud, “No!”

He got quizzical looks from Cecelia Darktop, Roswell Kirkey, Longbeard Nineteen-names, and p-Mayard.

Exeter said, “Mayard asked me to guide and protect you as best I can. I have inherent ability to sense enemies, but only when you hold me. I’m always good for a kind word. I’ll ask of you Rhiann Klarje, please keep my origins secret. In the wrong hands, I would do harm. One day perhaps you can bequeath me to a long line of warriors. That is my dream. The Gnomes are noble, but my destiny is not with them.”

Rhiann this time remembered to only think his words and said, “Roswell and Mayard merely said you are derived from the odd ore the miners found deep within the mountain. What are your origins?”

Exeter softly replied, “I must have some secrets. Suffice it to say, I’m a sister of Grayness.

Cecelia asked, “What does she say to you, Roswell?”

Roswell smiled, “Her name is Exeter. She keeps thanking me and asks about Mayard’s return. Maybe you should hold her, Mayard.”

p-Mayard hesitated and glanced toward Rhiann. Rhiann shrugged. Mayard’s doppelganger reached out to Longbeard, reluctantly gripped the dark red hilt, and accepted the beautiful longsword. A pleasant voice appeared in the depth of his thoughts, “I sense no ill will toward the others in your shapeless heart, doppelganger. You have no enemies in this place, but your comrades think you are Mayard Klarje. Their attitudes will likely change when they learn the truth. Have you harmed Mayard Klarje?”

p-Mayard was at a loss as to how to communicate with the sword. Was spoken word required or was the entire affair telepathic? He concentrated and thought silently, “If you know your stuff, you’ll realize the old sorcerer stands beside me in the guise of his great nephew Rhiann. Uh… you aren’t going to sell us out, are you? I really don’t want to cross these Gnomes! Gnomes aren’t fond of deception!”

The sword’s voice answered, “I’m committed to Mayard Klarje and never question his reasoning. But I’d really like to hear what he has to say about you! You are not a warrior. I serve a warrior best.”

The doppelganger wryly thought, “I can be a warrior.”

The sword said, “Perhaps Rhiann … uh, Mayard should hold me, false Mayard.”

p-Mayard said aloud, “Rhiann, the workmanship is second to none. Why don’t you hold the weapon?”

The pseudo-sorcerer extended the longsword and Rhiann awkwardly accepted the heavy blade and gripped the hilt.

Exeter said, “Young Rhiann Klarje, nice to make your acquaintance. You have no enemies in this place. That includes your shapeless friend, the Shapechanger in Mayard Klarje-clothing. He very oddly is devoted to you, though he thinks you are your Uncle Mayard. One of Mayard’s most unusual maneuvers, I must say. The Gnomes Longbeard and Cecelia and dwarfish Sword master Roswell truly believe he is Mayard and you are Rhiann. So Mayard indeed remained at the Hanging Gardens in your guise. How was he feeling?”

p-Mayard looked at Rhiann, who nodded a tad. Mayard’s doppelganger had heard real-Mayard speak of the stone many times, used this knowledge to his advantage, and said, “I’ve no objections to any of my friends holding the weapon. I studied the reddish ore in Gnome-town. The alchemists and I tried to determine the nature of the ore. None understood it. We couldn’t scratch the rock.”

Longbeard Nineteen-names eagerly accepted the weapon and carefully moved it through the air. “It’s fantastic! Wait! If a red diamond doesn’t scratch it, how’d you melt it in the forge?”

Roswell smiled wryly and said, “I’ve some secrets. The ore wanted to be transformed. Mayard had altered it somewhat. Once in its finished form, the firmness returned. Has she spoken to you, Longbeard?”

Longbeard said, “Say what?”

Roswell said, “As I said, Mayard brought me an ore that had changed since I had last seen it. I believe you said, Sorcerer Mayard, that the rock was now whole and requested I forge it into the blade.”

p-Mayard said, “I believe that’s what I said. You’ve created a masterpiece.”

Longbeard Nineteen-names held the sword up to his thick beard and said, “Tell me something, beautiful weapon.”

Abruptly the stout Gnome lowered the sword and gasped, “I’ll be a Kobold’s uncle! It talks!”

Cecelia quizzically remarked, “What do you mean? We heard nothing!”

Roswell Kirkey asked, “What did she say?”

Longbeard twisted the sword’s hilt in his strong left hand and replied, “She said, ‘Thanks, noble warrior. I like having your hand gripping me. Flattery will get you everything. You are without enemies in this place, though things aren’t always as they appear.’ It was the most pleasing voice I’ve ever heard. Didn’t you people hear it?”

A small symphony of “No’s” rang out.

Roswell said, “She only talks to the one that holds her.”

Roswell returned with a longsword. The dwarfish swordsmith said, “The odd piece of grayish red ore from which this weapon was forged was found deep in the earth by miners. The ore was discovered precisely at a point of impact of a visitor from deep space that produced the cataclysm that forever changed Sagain and heralded the Dawn of Magick. The miners and alchemists were unable to determine the nature of the ore and brought it under heavy guard to Gnome-town and the care of the burgomaster. Gnomish and dwarfish gem masters extensively studied the irregular rock, which periodically gave off gray auras. Rarely thick red liquid oozed from the odd stone. By all accounts the ore was unique on Sagain. Burgomaster Altus Twenty-names Big Boy Stillwater Darktop presented the bizarre object to Mayard Klarje at dinner in appreciation for Mayard’s help in subduing the highwaymen Big Boy and Tiny. Mayard, you carried the stone for many years before you brought it to me. The ore differed from when I last saw it. You said the stone found its heart and you brought her home. I’m not one for riddles and sorcerer talk, but I know my way around a forge. Here’s Exeter.”

Madam Darktop said, “Exeter?”

p-Mayard said, “Yes, her name is Exeter.”

Exeter appeared as a well-made longsword, with a hilt formed of a reddish black material and a golden blade. The hilt of the weapon retained the reddish color. No runes appeared upon the weapon and no gems adorned the hilt.  Exeter’s beauty was in her simplicity.

Cecelia Darktop said, “She?”

Roswell Kirkey replied, “The bladed has a feminine nature. She’s high-spirited. I could not scratch the blade with a red diamond.”

Cecelia marveled, “There’s nothing harder in the world.”

Longbeard asked, “May I hold the blade?”

Roswell said, “It’s Mayard’s call, but you’ll find it difficult to let her go once you’ve held her close.”

Cecelia said, “Brother, you sound like you are writing folk music.”