Chapter 14. The Escape
Bessie's
headlong flight took them beyond the bounds of Rychek's map. For a time he guided her in what he hoped was
the right direction, but in one chamber he was confronted by two identical
arches and had to admit that he was totally lost.
A
deep voice called from behind, "May we play through?"
A
party of nine adventurers squeezed past the bastiladon. Their leader, a tall gray wizard with a
pointy hat and a glowing staff called a brief halt. "I have no memory of this place..."
He murmured.
"Don't
go that way," offered Mahtis helpfully as he pointed to the way they had
come.
The
wizard ignored him. "The dwarves
have delved too deep, and awakened a terrifying horror."
An
excessively well groomed blonde elf with a bow gasped, "....not split
ends!"
"No,
you vain idiot! Come along, we must not
tarry!" the wizard led his motley
followers through one of the arches.
Rychek
was about to lead Bessie after them when he heard the slap-slap sound of bare
feet on stone. From the darkness behind
he could see a pair of pale green lamp-like eyes appear.
"Gollum!
Gollum! Did you see a tricksy Bagginses
pass by, Preciousss?"
The
voice belonged to a small, cadaverous creature with pointed ears. His disproportionately large hands and feet
terminated in froglike digits.
"No.......We
didn't see any.... tricksy Bagginses....." advanced Joe cautiously.
"He
must be wearing the Preciousss!" hissed
the wretch, and he sprang into the gloom in pursuit of the nine walkers.
"While
we are stopped," said Mahtis, "you guys should look at this. One of the drums from the marching band got
stuck up here."
He tucked
the bass drum under one arm and began to beat it rhythmlessly with his fist.
Seconds
later, there were answering drumbeats and whooping war cries. A party of cave goblins scuttled up like
heavily armed crustaceans.
"If
you are looking for a wizard with a hat, a vain elf, a grumpy dwarf, two men,
four halflings and a large frog, they went that way." Rychek indicated with Gork-on-a-Stick.
The
goblin chief touched his brow and led his ululating warriors into the darkness.
Rychek
shook his head and made ready to follow when the sound of pounding strides and
clanking chains made him pause again. A
cave troll caromed into view and stopped, blinking at them.
"That
way!" Four lizardman voices
chorused, as they pointed down the increasingly undeserted tunnel.
"Fanks!" the troll grunted as he ricocheted away
brandishing a large stone club.
"Let's
not go that way," Rychek decided.
"It's too crowded."
They
took the other path.
As
they continued over a flaming crack and approached a narrow bridge, Rychek took
stock of their situation. "We've no
gold left, we don't know where we are, and we may have caused some slight
offense to the local population. How can
things get any worse?" he moaned.
A
tremendous roar like the sound of two rough boulders being scraped together in
the heart of a volcano emanated from the tunnel behind them. The startled lizards saw a great shadow, in
the middle of which was a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a
power and a terror seemed to be in it and to go before it.
With
a rush, it leaped across the fissure.
The flames roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black
smoke swirled in the air. It's streaming
mane kindled and blazed behind it. In
its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left it held
a whip of many thongs.
"Over
the bridge!" cried Rychek. He
dismounted and stood his ground. The
others halted just within a doorway at the hall's end, and turned, unable to
leave their leader to face the enemy alone.
The
monster reached the bridge. Rychek stood
in the middle of the span, leaning on
Gork-on-a-Stick in his left hand. The
creature halted again, facing him, and the shadow wreathed about it reached out
like two vast wings. It raised the whip,
and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire
came from its nostrils.
But
Rychek stood firm. "You cannot
pass, Flame of Udun! Go back to the
shadow! About five hundred metres back,
then take the second left! They went
that way!"
The
monster suddenly drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread
from wall to wall. From out of the
shadow a thunderous voice grated, "Much obliged!"
The Balrog
of Morgoth furled its wings and trotted back the way it had come.
Rychek
had no idea where they were. Rather than
take a guess at the next fork in their path, he called to Bob and Joe. "Go in there and ask for
directions." They were pulled up
outside another tavern with the ubiquitous tankard sign out front.
"It
doesn't say "Ladies Night" again does it?" Bob ventured cautiously.
"No. It says "The Blue Oyster." It should be OK."
Bob
and Joe pushed through the swinging doors and waited for their eyes to adjust
to the dim lighting. As the pair
threaded their way between the rough, beer stained tables, they became aware
that something was wrong. These dwarves
had well groomed moustaches and wore just a bit too much leather. It seemed that every second pair of beady
eyes winked at them over the top of a non-alcoholic guava daiquiri with an
umbrella and strawberry on the edge of the glass.
As
Bob and Joe sat on a vacant pair of stools at the bar and attempted to attract
the attention of the barkeep, one of the dwarves minced over and perched beside
Joe. "Hello, Darrling. Yee're new aroond heere. Can I buy ye a
drrink?" He fluttered his mascara
laden eyelashes.
Rychek
gasped in surprise as Bob and Joe burst through the saloon doors leaving them
flapping on their hinges. They leapt for
the howdah.
"Go!
Go! Get us out of here!" Joe jumped
off again and started pushing Bessie's rump to get her moving.
"Which
way?" asked the baffled Rychek.
"I
don't care! Just go!" Joe cried as a score of faerie dwarves
spilled out of the pub.
"Coome
back, Sweetie!" The dwarves were
pursuing as fast as they could, but even Bessie's slow plod outpaced them. Dwarf feet are very....not well suited to
high heels.
The
party eventually halted. There was no
point going on. They had reached a
gallery which offered them five alternative and equally unpromising paths. They agreed that they would each explore a
tunnel, then return to compare notes.
Rychek
jogged along his tunnel. Could this be
the way out? There was a warm yellow
light, like sunlight, flickering weakly around the next bend. He stepped around the corner to be greeted by
a shout.
"Thay'res
the blue daevil who drove puir wee Kenny MacLavatory o' Esse Bend to
sobriety!" A mob of dwarves wearing
white hats and coats were before him, some with burning torches, some with brushes.
"Come
tae us ye fiend! We'll shoo ye that the
Guild of the Regular Stool make poowerful enemas!"
The
skink turned and fled.
Bob
did not get far up his chosen path before being confronted by none other than
Randa MacTavi o' Lence and her screeching pack of she-dwarves.
"I've
a grudge 'gin ye, Lazard! Noow try to
kell me short, with nae teeth!" She
raised the chair leg she had carried with her from the far side of the
mountains.
Mahtis
had explored only a short way up his tunnel before he was assailed by a
dreadful sound. The din was like a
banshee wail. The sheer physical force
of the cacophony would surely have killed him, had he not been spawned
earless. What remained of the Karak
Andstick Combined Pipes and Drums had reformed, with a vengeance.
Joe
crept stealthily into his dim tunnel. He
stuck to the shadows, sliding his back along the wall. Even taking these precautions, he was unable
to escape detection.
"Yoohoo! Is that ye, Darrling? Aboot that drrink?"
The
four breathless explorers arrived back simultaneously. "That way!" they shouted in unison
and urged Bessie into the yawning mouth of the one remaining passage.
In
time, this passage widened and led upwards.
The smell of stale beer and unwashed beards which they had grown used to
in the dwarf hold began to fade as a point of light grew ahead of them. The light grew in size and intensity until
they could see that it was framed by a huge stone arch which was blocked by a
flimsy orange and white barrier.
A
dwarf stood behind the barrier with his chin resting on the haft of a large
hammer. His eyes glinted as he appraised the group and their beast.
The
party dismounted and stood in front of Bessie.
Rychek stepped forward,
"Erm," he said glancing back up the tunnel nervously, "Could you please remove the rune of
magic binding from our solar engine. Please?"
"There
is," the dwarf solemnly declared,
"a wee fee."
"No,
no, that's all taken care of! I kept the
receipt, see?" Rychek held up a square
of paper with a brown smear on it.
The
dwarfs knuckles whitened as he gripped his hammer all the tighter.
Bob
pulled Rychek back, "Let me handle this!" he hissed. To the dwarf he said, "Look, it turns out we are short on time
and short on money. Short e...."
He
had been about the say "short even on food and water," but had paused
because he fancied that he had heard a shrill voice call "Lazard!" up
the echoing passage.
The
dwarf's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he stormed around the
barrier. "Shorty is it? Ai knew ye were coming. Mae cousin runed me aboot yeer soily manners
and yeer magicky beastie."
The
dwarf pushed between Bob and Joe to confront Rychek, who stood half a pace in
front of Mahtis. "And ye. If ye've no means to pay the fee, then yon
beastie and yon magicky doodad are forfeit to the hold of Karak Andstick. And ye can get yeer halfwit brother oot mae
way!"
"He
ain't my brother. He's my
heavy." Rychek stepped aside.
The
dwarf, following the skink with his eyes, did not even see the approach of a
large scaly fist. He must certainly have
felt the crunching impact on the side of his head, but made no further comment
as he slumped to the ground.
"Bob
and Joe, get the gate! Mahtis, take the
Rune Hammer o' Anti Magic!" Rychek
urgently organized his troop. "Toss
the dwarf out of the way!"
"Nae
one tosses a dwaaaa.a..a..a...a......." a weak voice protested as Mahtis
flung the border guard into a convenient chasm.
Rychek
did not unclench his bottom until Karak Andstick was many, many dwarfish miles
behind. An enema of the guild never
feels comfortable.
"Those
lady dwarves were terrifying!"
"There
are worse things!"
"Bob,
Joe. Can I join your argument?"
"Oh,
this isn't an argument."
"Yes
it is."
"No
it isn't."
"Yes
it is!"
"An
argument isn't just contradiction."
"Well!
It CAN be!"
"No
it can't!"
"An
argument is a connected series of statements intended to establish a
proposition."
"No
it isn't!"
"Yes
it is! 'tisn't just contradiction."
"Look, if I
"argue" with you, I must take up a contrary position!"
"Yes but it isn't
just saying 'no it isn't'."
"Yes it is!"
"No it isn't!"
"Yes
it is!"
"No
it isn't!"
Mahtis
wisely decided to leave the masters to their work.
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