Chapter 9: Baysil the Lame

He woke as Kletta wriggled out of their blankets. The air was clear and cold, and the sun's rays tinted the peaks with their blankets of snow fantastic shades of orange and pink. Higher peaks to either side already gleamed white, and from a distant cone a plume of vapor drifted down the wind. He breathed deep of the mountain air, stretching and bending to work the kinks out of his muscles. Even his leg felt good. This kind of work was as nothing to the hard marching they'd been doing, and even when they headed back it would be mostly down hill to Shurrud village.

Most of their wood had been burned or scattered by the Kobolds, but enough remained to cook their breakfast. He knelt in silent prayer for a moment, then approached the fire.

"How's Tarr?" he asked Darrick, with a concerned glance toward where she sat huddled in her cloak.

"She'll be all right, but that was a nasty knock on the head that she took. I'm afraid she'll be of little use to us today with the headache she's got. She should be fine tomorrow, though. We'd better use this day to find us a camping place that's more easily defended than this one, and then spend the rest of the day resting and meditating." He smiled, quizzically. "We have allowed the Vernal Day to pass without ceremony, an omission the Gods might look upon with disfavor."

"Vernal Day?" Baysil hastily counted back over the days since they'd left Shurrud. "The day we first entered the Monastery! Then this is the fourth day of the second quarter. Yes, it is more than time."

They would have to hunt again. There was enough food for breakfast, and for the evening meal, but not much more than that. This was not a day to skimp on food. Baysil remembered the Vernal Days of his youth. Each of Orris Kayn's twelve months held three ten day weeks. The odd six days that rounded out the year were accounted for by Vernal Day in the spring, Harvest Day in the fall, two Summer Days, and two Winter, or Year Days.

Vernal Day was a time to sing and dance, a day for maidens to deck themselves with flowers, for youths to dress in their finest clothes. There would be food and drink to celebrate the end of the cold and the dark, the long nights and short days. He remembered...

"Come on, let's go!" Kargh glared up at where the sun rose above the ridges. "Time to get moving."

They cleaned up the area, making sure that no trace revealed where their treasures lay hidden.

"Which way are we going?" Baysil looked around at the ridges of barren rock, littered with boulders. Infrequent patches of soil nurtured a twisted tree or clump of bushes. They gave little promise of a better hiding place for their camp.

"Around behind the Monastery, like I said last night," Anji repeated her words of the night before. "The place that Furdick and I spotted. There's a spring, and it's off the main trail."

Along the trail between their camp and the Monastery, a small bridge spanned a cleft in the rock. A trickle of water twisted its way between boulders, but it was plain to see that at times a torrent of water came down from the hills. They angled off to the right, following a faint animal trail that led up the canyon. It cut back and forth across the bed of the stream before disappearing into tumbled boulders.

"This should be close to the place we saw," Furdick declared. "Elm, climb up onto one of these boulders, will you?"

The little Thief nodded and mounted easily to the top of a large rock.

"Yeah, there it is," he reported, waving an arm ahead and to their right. "A level spot that's protected by boulders, and what looks like a spring."

Baysil nodded approvingly when they reached the spot. It seemed an ideal place to make their camp. A cliff behind it so that nothing could sneak up on them, and boulders at the head of a steep slope made it a natural fort. A small stream spilled from under a pile of broken rock against the base of the cliff, meandering off down the hill to join the stream at the bottom of the canyon.

"Give me a hand here," Kargh commanded, rolling a large rock away from the pile. "I've got a hunch there's a cave behind here."

It took some puffing and grunting, but soon the boulders were cleared away to reveal a dark opening, the source of the stream.

"No danger here," Kargh declared confidently. The top of the opening was just high enough so that he didn't have to duck his head to enter, and its width was more than ample for his broad shoulders. "Come on, there's plenty of room inside here. It'll make a great place to hide our loot and supplies."

Once inside, Baysil was amazed at how large it was. The walls opened out to form a good sized room, and the roof arched high above the level floor of packed sand. The stream that had led Kargh to it arose from a deep hole at the rear of the cave, springing clear and cold from the depths of the mountain.

It took two trips to bring all of their belongings from their old camp, and by the time they were settled the sun was high in the sky. They ate their lunch in a companionable silence, enjoying the warmth of the spring day.

"As I mentioned to Baysil, we have not celebrated Vernal Day." Darrick spoke in a soft voice, but in this place his words were easy to hear. "No, I don't mean to suggest that we deck ourselves with flowers, sing and dance. I had in mind an older custom."

"What one is that?" Baysil asked, though he thought he knew what Darrick meant.

"In olden times, it was the custom to spend a part of the day in prayer and meditation. It is only in recent centuries that Vernal Day has become a mere holiday. No, I have in mind nothing extreme. Just a time to renew our faith in our own Gods, and to ask Their aid in our efforts."

There were thoughtful looks as the Company considered his words. Baysil felt a flush of guilt. Since they had left the village he had lived for each day as it came, taking no thought for the pattern of his life and his duty to the Gods.

"You are right, of course. This place holds no taint of foulness that I can feel. You and I can mark off a Diagram of Power, and each of us can seek our place within it."

There was ample level ground to trace out a large square with charred sticks from their fire, and to divide it into nine carefully measured unequal parts. Each face of the square was marked with its proper sign; the Rayed Circle of Law opposite the Eightfold Arrows of Chaos, the White Bird of Good across from the tentacled Black Splotch of Evil.

Anji meditated. She knelt on the hard stone, unheeding of the sun's warmth on her bare head. She still wore full armor, but her helm and sword were laid aside, though close at hand. On the ground in front of her she had placed a tiny stone image, roughly hewn into the shape of a man. In her mind the image of her Deity gained in strength and clarity, a massive Stone Golem, marching toward her over a rocky plain. Before His heavy footsteps cities fell to ruin, but behind Him trees and grasses burgeoned. He was Gedd, God of earth and growing things. He seemed to pause where she knelt, and His mighty fist reached down to touch her head.

"You have done well, My daughter." A voice like distant thunder rumbled within her skull, and she grew dizzy from its power. "Be strengthened in the days to come, for you and all of your companions will need your utmost powers to overcome what awaits you."

Bartan sat cross legged on sun warmed stone, a tiny figurine of some rubbery substance before him. In his mind the image of Quost grew in power. Under an alien sun's bluish rays a body like an upright wine cask sat firmly on four blocky legs. Above each leg a sinuous tentacle waved, its tip divided into a multitude of tiny filaments, and above each tentacle gaped a beaked mouth. Quost's head was eyeless, a rounded dome set firmly on top of His body. There was no way of telling His front from His back. All around Him was desolation, but in the far distance could be seen the remnants of ruined buildings. Bartan was conscious of his God's approval, and new strength flowed into him.

As Furdick knelt in silence, a rock scorpion crawled out from under a boulder, skittering across the ground to pause by his knee. In his mind the scorpion grew to vast proportions, becoming Ulu the Executioner who brings death to law breakers. The venomous sting poised as if to strike, then lowered and Ulu's claws reached out to rest on his shoulders.

"Be content," a dry voice whispered. "You advance the cause of Law, and gain much that is of use to you in your quest. Companionship you seek, and may one day find it where you expect it not."

Even in prayer, Kargh gripped the haft of his axe. He felt no warmth of sun, for always his mind sought the cool darkness of deep caverns, the silence and isolation to be found only deep beneath looming mountains. Against the darkness moth wings glimmered pale, and he saw the visage of Lune'Hu, the Moonlight Princess.

"Soon," she whispered. "Soon you will find the darkness and silence you seek. A darkness where you may grow strong. But for now you must continue with your task. Bear with these strangers, and be strong in My service."

Baysil chanted softly, a litany of praise to the Deities of Law and personal gain. Evil, it was called by the ignorant, but it was only evil if pursued to excess. In the stillness of his inner frenzy the tiny image of a black ant grew in size and substance. Behind the image of T'Lea the Slaver, Patron of Law and Evil, of those who promote a structured society so that they may prosper, His minions marched. Giant ants, marching in silent columns, herding obedient worker ants. T'Lea's segmented antennae waved, and faceted eyes peered deep within his very being.

"You shall prosper," Her antennae seemed to signal. "There is great wealth to be found here, a fabulous treasure. But beware! Follow the dictates of Law in all your doings, for great treasure brings greater temptation."

Darrick contemplated the image of an orderly world, where Law was an end in itself, related to neither Good nor Evil. In his mind the figure of a Giant Beaver toiled endlessly to build and restore what other forces sought to tear down and scatter. He felt the calm regard of those darkly liquid eyes, and it seemed to him that they approved of his doings.

In Elm's mind hovered the silent wings of Ialpioc, the Owl of Judgment, Who nodded silent approval.

The pale countenance of Lune'Hu, the Moonlight Princess, smiled a blessing on Kletta, cautioning her to be firm in her ambitions.

Burdock envisioned a magnificent Buck Deer, Whose spreading antlers were entwined with flowering vines, and from Whose footsteps sprang all manner of flowering and fruiting plants. The soft eyes of Loea the Planter looked upon his actions and all was well.

Tarr's thoughts were filled by the spreading luxuriance of a Flowering Vine. Wien the Vine, Devourer of Buildings, Whose flowers bloom where Man no longer lives, and Whose roots feed on the ruins of forgotten cities. Her fragrance filled Tarr's nostrils, carrying Her blessings for deeds performed, along with a warning of subtle dangers yet to come.

The silent figures might well have been carved from stone as the sun neared the mountains that rimmed this place. Anji shuddered as the shadows touched the edge of the Diagram of Power, and rose to her feet. Her muscles responded smoothly to her will, and her movements seemed charged with energy. By unspoken consent all bent to the everyday tasks of maintaining a wilderness camp. Anji and Furdick teamed up with Bartan to shift a few of the smaller boulders to give better protection to the camp. Kargh went with Elm and Kletta to gather wood. Burdock and Tarr wandered off to search for herbs, and Darrick sat at his ease on a flat rock mending a strap on his coat of mail.

"This seems a peaceful place," Baysil mused, half to himself. "I wonder why those old monks built their monastery away out here. We are certainly about as far out on the border of Orris Kayn as we could be."

"Yes, those mountains mark the limits of what is known," Darrick answered. "This was never a heavily traveled road. But surely you noticed that your map showed the monastery sited beside that trail, not at the end of it. They may have built here to guard the people of Orris Kayn from what might come from the other side of the mountains. Or it may simply have been that here they could find the solitude they needed for their work, whatever it was."

"Hey! Give us a hand with this wood!" Kargh's hoarse bellow echoed from the canyon walls.

"Hold it down!" Darrick shouted back. "You want to bring an Orc band down on us?"

"All right, but give us a hand anyway. This wood's heavy."

Kletta had glimpsed a tangle of dead limbs where a tree had succumbed to long forgotten storms, and the Dwarf's axe had made short work of reducing it to manageable chunks. Baysil and Darrick helped them carry armloads of fuel up the hill to their camp, and by the time they had finished the sun was approaching the tops of the ridges. With evening's shadows came chill breezes, and as soon as their evening meal was eaten they sought their blankets.

"We will use this day to explore more of the main level of the building," Darrick told them the next morning as they prepared to leave their camp. "We are nearly strong enough to seek the lower levels, but we must find a way to reach them. It is my feeling that what we seek is down there, somewhere."

"All right by me!" Kargh exclaimed. "There must be treasure indeed in the cellars of that place, going by what we've found already."

They moved silently, the morning sun at their backs. Baysil savored its warmth, wondering once again whether this time would be the last that he would feel its rays. But for now his mind was clear and keen, and his morning prayer for spiritual guidance had been rewarded in fuller measure than ever before.

"Shall we go on from the hall of stirges, or continue on down the main corridor?" Anji asked as they paused outside the ancient building.

"Straight on in!" Kargh gripped his axe as though ready to push on in spite of all obstacles. "No more of this hiding in corners waiting for something to jump out at us!"

"Those Goblins we saw were going someplace," Bartan argued. "I thought that you wanted to chase after them."

They argued good naturedly, finally deciding to continue on the way they'd been going. Either the confusion spell in the corridor had lost its potency or they'd grown hardened to its effects, though Baysil thought that he felt a slight dizziness as they entered the building. The secret panel swung open at Darrick's touch. The room where they'd killed the fire beetles was empty of all life, as was the hall beyond.

They made little noise as they approached the doors at the far end of the hall. Elm listened intently, then held up a warning hand.

"Scraping, clicking sounds," he whispered. "Like some kind of insects."

These doors opened toward them. Elm and Kletta gripped the massive ornamental handles and pulled. From where he watched at the rear of the column, Baysil glimpsed several large beetles whose glowing lights dimmed their lanterns to insignificance.

Kargh, Anji and Bartan opened fire before the beetles had time to react. Bartan's first arrow glanced off a wing case, but his next shaft skewered a beetle that had been rocked by Anji's first bolt. There was no time for more missiles, and the three soldiers advanced to meet the creatures. The fight was silent except for the scrape and click of insectile armor and Kargh's panting battle cry. Bartan's sword struck home, slowing one of the beetles, and Anji's foe careened away as its body lost the head that directed it. The careening body scrabbled in a crazy dance, crashing into its fellows; the room was a cauldron of activity as swords and Kargh's axe glanced off heavy wing cases.

"Watch out!" Bartan heeded Furdick's warning cry, but too late, and went down as crushing mandibles gripped his leg.

"I've got it!" Anji's sword sank deep and the beetle rolled away, kicking reflexively. Then the room was silent as Kargh literally hewed his foe asunder.

"Are you all right?" Darrick bent over Bartan, who was writhing in pain. "How bad did it get you?"

"No, damn it! My leg! That Klond cursed beetle bent my armor!"

"Here, let me look at it." Elm bent to examine the damage. "Yeah, it bent the strip of metal that shields the front of your thigh. Kargh, you've got the strongest hands. See if you can get your fingers under it and bend it out straight."

"Got it. Brace yourself!" He took hold of the offending piece of metal. "Anji, your hands are small enough. Get them under it and help me pull. Ahh!"

Bartan tensed, gritting his teeth against the pain as Anji and Kargh wrenched and pulled. The metal gave, and he relaxed with a sigh of relief.

"That'll hold it for now." Kargh inspected the results. "Elm can hammer it out smooth when we get back to camp."

"Here's a chest." Kletta had been prowling the room while they worked on Bartan. Elm joined her, and helped lever back the lid of a huge chest that stood in one corner. While they worked, Baysil kept a lookout for danger and Darrick continued ministering to Bartan's bruised leg.

"More copper coins!" Kargh snarled his disgust. "What in the Nine Hells did they want with all of those copper pieces? Hey, what's in that little chest?"

"Let me look at it." Elm lifted a small but heavy iron box out of the larger chest and set it on the floor. "It's locked, and... Watch it!"

He jerked his hand back just in time. With a sharp 'click' a blackened needle shot from the keyhole, landing halfway across the room. "There, now it's safe. Here's some gold for you, Kargh. Must be at least five hundred coins here."

"That's better," the Dwarf answered, his scowl lightening. "There's nothing else in here worth bothering with. We might as well try this door next."

The room they were in was about forty feet wide by thirty deep, and had a door in each of the side walls. Darrick called him back as he started toward the door on the left.

"Hold it. Our lanterns are getting weak. I want to make some new ones from these fire beetles while we have the chance."

Kargh growled his anger, but turned back to help with the messy task. The light giving organs, each lump of tissue as large as a man's fist, were carefully cut out and mounted in their beetle shell lanterns.

"There, that's done. Now let's go!"

"All right. How's your leg, Bartan?"

"It'll do. Yeah, let's get started. We don't want to be all day and night in this place."

Baysil watched as they approached the doors Kargh had decided on. There were some old rotted pieces of broken furniture in their path, but it was only a moment's work to clear them out of their way. Elm listened at the doors, but heard nothing. Anji pushed at them. They didn't move. Kargh set his shoulder to the other door and they both pushed, but still nothing happened.

"Stand back," Kargh ordered. Taking a firm grip on his axe he struck at the doors, struck again. With an echoing crash they collapsed off their hinges, sending up a choking cloud of dust.

"Nothing here," he grunted as the dust cleared. "Just an empty room."

"Let me look." Kletta slipped past him. The room had been magnificently furnished once, a banquet or reception chamber at least thirty five by forty feet. Nothing had been disturbed here, but still the ages had taken their toll. Clouds of dust puffed up under their feet, dust that had lain there for five centuries. "There's something here, under these old tapestries."

The cloth of the tapestries fell apart at her touch, revealing an intricately carved chest. Of some richly grained wood, it had survived the ages better than the collapsed tables and chairs that littered the rest of the room.

"I can't get this Bast Tayn blessed lock to open!" Kletta swore. "Elm, you try it."

He carefully worked a few drops of oil into the lock, working at it with slender bits of steel. At last he rocked back on his heels, defeated. "No use. It won't open without the key. Not for me, anyway."

"So, what can we lose?" Anji took a short step forward and chopped at the lock with her sword. When the echoes of clashing metal died away the lock was open, but she was looking in surprise at the discolored needle that had glanced off her gauntlet and lay broken on the floor.

"About three hundred more gold coins," Elm announced. "And some old cloth that's rotted away to nothing."

"There's no other way out of here," Kargh announced. Baysil noticed again that the farther they went into the building the better the Dwarf's humor seemed to be. "Let's try that other door out of the last room."

This time the doors gave them no trouble, but the room beyond was bare and empty. It was the same size as the rooms they'd just left, but had a door in the left wall. At some time in the distant past the doors had been smashed, and the fragments lay scattered about. Beyond was a small room, ten feet deep by twenty wide. Offset to the right as they entered, a door opened out of the far wall, and the entire left wall of the room was taken up by a pair of doors that opened inward.

"Hold up, here." Darrick had stopped to examine the wall to his right. "There's something wrong here."

"Yeah." Elm moved to his side. "Another secret door. Here's the latch. Watch it, I think it's trapped."

He poked and pried carefully. There was a harsh clank, and he stepped back to let them see.

"It's a knife blade." He pointed out a short length of dull metal that protruded from between two stones. "Set to chop off fingers of anyone who didn't know what they were doing."

The wall swung away, revealing a dusty closet ten feet wide by fifteen deep. Elm stirred the rotting folds of a coarse rug with the point of his sword. The shreds of cloth fell away, revealing a loose pile of yellow coins. Baysil guessed that there were about a hundred and fifty of them.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Kargh laughed. "Gold and more gold! Enough of it to do us some good. The farther we go, the more we find!"

"This place must not have been looted, after all," Furdick commented. "But what happened to all of the defenders?"

"Plenty of signs of fighting, though," Anji answered. "Yet we're finding all kinds of stuff that soldiers would have taken."

"That's something we may never know," Darrick mused. "There was some kind of a fight here, all right. Then it looks like the winners just left. The signs we've seen of looting have mostly been recent."

"Who cares?" Kargh laughed coarsely. "As long as there's treasure here, we'll find it."

"Quiet!" Elm warned. "I think I hear something!"

They fell quickly into battle formation. It was becoming a natural reflex, Baysil thought. He took his position at the rear of the column, ready to take the brunt of any attack from that direction. The door ahead of them swung open at Anji's push, but the room beyond was silent. It was another large room, forty feet wide by at least seventy deep, and it took them a while to make sure that it held nothing of value.

"Let's try that other door." Kargh led the way confidently back to the other door that led out of the tiny room, turning to the right as he left the larger space. Once again Baysil wondered what some of these rooms had been used for. The big, empty spaces bore little or no resemblance to the austere monastery where he'd been trained. The doors swung toward them, revealing a broad stretch of corridor that lay silent and empty in the gloom. They moved ahead about forty feet to where it turned right, following along the outside of the room they'd just left. Kargh peered around the corner, holding his lantern high and ducking his head to confuse any attacker.

"Nothing but more hallway," he reported, moving forward. Baysil was just rounding the corner when he heard shouts from up ahead.

"Get back!" Anji shouted, grabbing at Bartan and Kargh.

Too late! They stiffened, then collapsed as she dragged them back out of danger. Beyond them, Baysil saw only a wavering distortion, as though the very air rippled and flowed. Anji dropped her companions and raised her crossbow.

'Snap!' The quarrel slowed, hung suspended. Elm fumbled with Kargh's crossbow, loosing a bolt that caromed off a wall before striking into whatever faced them. The thing surged forward, seeming not to notice their missiles. Furdick's bolt seemed to pass above the thing, skittering into the darkness beyond, but leaden missiles from their slings whistled as others rallied to the attack. Furdick dropped his crossbow, lunging with his spear, but the fight was already over.

Their slugs and bolts dropped to the floor as the thing clouded over, melting into a nauseous pool of stinking slime. The evil fluid bubbled and steamed, sinking into cracks in the floor until only a discolored splotch remained to show where it had been.

"What in the Nine Hells was that?" Elm gasped, coughing.

"Cursed if I know!" Anji waved away some of the stench. "Like a huge mass of jelly, sliding along and eating everything it finds. Probably one reason you don't see all kinds of bones and things strewn around."

She moved forward carefully to pick up her crossbow bolt, and the others retrieved their spent missiles.

"Look, it had some coins inside of it!" She scooped up a couple of blackened coins, and they all searched to find whatever else the thing had carried within its bulk. There were a handful of copper and silver pieces, and thirty coins of precious gold. A couple of small gems and a tiny flask also lay in the center of the discolored floor.

"What's wrong with Bartan and Kargh?" Tarr asked, glancing back at where Darrick and Baysil worked over the fallen soldiers. The others gathered around, sobered by the sight of the unmoving bodies.

"They're paralyzed," Baysil answered, not looking up from Kargh's body. "And burned where that thing touched them."

"Will they be all right?" Anji asked.

"I think so, since you grabbed them and got them back away from it in time." He looked down, seeing that the Dwarf's eyes were open and glaring up at him furiously. "It seems to be wearing off a little at a time."

"Keep alert!" Darrick commanded. "Don't let anything sneak up on us."

Baysil massaged Kargh's limbs, and soon the Dwarf was able to move his fingers. He and Bartan recovered the use of their vocal cords next, and turned the air blue with invective gained through years spent in various armies. Baysil listened appreciatively, though his Calling kept him from using such language himself. Most of the remarks concerned the improbable and obscene permutations of the Chaotic Deity Klond's appendages and their various uses. By the time the two of them were able to use all of their muscles, their burns had scabbed over and gave them no more trouble.

"What kind of a potion did we get this time?" Burdock asked in his soft voice, handing the flask he'd found to Darrick.

"Wow! That's a strong one!" Darrick shuddered as the effects of a tiny taste hit him. "Some kind of a stimulant. To make a fighter almost invincible in battle for a short time, I'd guess."

"I'll take it, then." Kargh reached out and plucked it from Darrick's hand. "I could use something like that."

"All right, but be careful with it. It could be dangerous."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be all right. Let's see what's on down this corridor."

About fifty feet beyond the right angled turn, the corridor was closed off by a pair of doors that yielded easily to Kargh's shoulder. Beyond them the hallway continued on another forty or fifty feet to another pair of doors, but about halfway along a doorway opened off to the right. The doors were set well in from the face of the wall, and opened outward. Elm listened intently, but heard nothing. He and Kletta pulled on the ornate handles, and the doors swung open.

"Just a room," Anji told them, and they relaxed slightly. It was about forty five feet wide by a little deeper, completely empty except for a small pile of smashed pottery in the center of the room.

"Here's a jar that's not broken," Elm announced, stirring the pile of shards with his foot. "And here's another. I'll open them."

The seal of the first jar yielded to the point of his dagger, and he poured out a torrent of silver coins. The other lid was loose, and he reached inside.

"Ouch!" He hurled the jar aside and nursed a finger. "Just an insect bite. No, it doesn't seem to be poisonous."

He picked up the jar and shook it. More silver coins poured out, and a couple of badly mangled insects. From the glimpse Baysil had of them, he thought that they might have been some kind of beetle, but there wasn't enough left of them to be sure. While Elm counted the coins he'd found, Darrick was examining the walls of the room. Baysil could tell by his sketch that there should be a space between the back of the room and the outer wall of the monastery, and he was right.

"Here it is," Darrick announced. The door swung away, revealing a narrow passage much like the corridor they'd followed to reach this room. It extended the length of the room behind them, was closed off at each end with doors that opened inward.