Turning sharply, he whipped out his ax. "If you think you can part me from my money or my cake-" The threat was left unfinished. They've found us.
Waiting at the other end of the alleyway was the дlf from Mifurdania who had tried to slit his throat. His cloak was fluttering in the stinking wind. He nocked a second arrow to his imposing bow and drew back his hand to release it.
At precisely that moment,' Tungdil was bowled over by something that charged toward him from the side. All he saw was a flash of violet light and a mask of gleaming silver before he was hit with such force that he soared through the air and landed in the next passageway, skidding four paces and cutting a channel through the mud.
What on… Head spinning, he rolled onto his back and held his ax at the ready, bracing himself for the дlf to find him and kill him. Nothing happened. Groaning, he stumbled to his feet. Every link in his mail shirt was oozing thick black mud. He looked dirtier than a pig that had been rolling in the muck.
He peered around the corner warily. His cake was lying where he had dropped it, but the alley was deserted and his footprints had been washed away by the driving rain. The only evidence of the disturbance was a black arrow and a strange yellow fluid that formed a garish trail through the puddles and the mud.
Tungdil's earlobe was throbbing. Why didn't the дlf kill me? Did someone stop him? His body felt as if he'd collided with a wall. He tried to recall what had happened. If I didn't know better, I'd think Djerun had…
He gave up on the idea and bade a mournful farewell to the cake, then hurried through the streets, keeping an eye out for any дlfar who might be on his tail. On reaching the tavern, he raced upstairs and burst into their chamber to find Boлndal on the point of going out.
"Hello, scholar. Is everything all right?"
"Not exactly," said Tungdil, telling him quickly of the дlf's ambush and his miraculous escape.
"The sooner we leave Sovereignston the better." Boлndal frowned in concern. "What possessed you to go wandering through the city on your own? An ax and a bit of learning aren't enough to protect you in a place like this." He thought for a moment. "If you ask me, it's not just the sigurdaisy wood they're after. Nфd'onn wants us dead because we know his secret." He woke Bavragor and Goпmgar to tell them what had happened, then went to join his brother in the stables. There would be no more sleep for any of them that night.
What if it was Djerun after all? Tungdil dismissed the idea. The armored giant and the maga were miles away in the Outer Lands.
At first light, the three players were waiting at the gates as agreed. Narmora was wearing a leather cape and the red head scarf that she never seemed to be without; and Furgas had put on a long coat to keep himself as dry as possible while the downpour showed no sign of letting up. The impresario seemed to have dressed in a hurry and was scanning the crowds nervously. The dwarves rolled up with their ponies and provisions.
"What's wrong?" Boпndil asked Rodario. "Are the дlfar about?"
"It's not дlfar he's worried about," replied Furgas. His tone implied that he had witnessed the scene before. "After last night's performance, he put on a private showing for the innkeeper's daughter and his wife."
"Shush! Do you want me hounded out of town?" hissed Rodario, glancing back and forth on the lookout for angry faces. "They told me they were separated!"
"There's always an excuse," Narmora said cynically. "It's a pity their cuckolded husbands won't believe you."
Boпndil whinnied with laughter. "The innkeeper's wife and his daughter?"
"Thirty-four cycles the one, and sixteen the other: spring and summer in one bed, with me, the king of seasons," he bragged.
Narmora was unimpressed. "I'd say you're more of a wanton farmer who can't help plowing foreign fields. For the most part, they accept your attentions because they're neglected by their own farmers-or because they pity a man with such a miniscule plowshare."
Rodario stopped searching the crowd and focused on sparring with Narmora. "My dear lady, I understand your fascination with my mighty apparatus, but I'm most discerning about my choice of fields. Stony meadows give you bruises; they may appeal to some laborers, but not to me." He flashed a smile at Furgas, then remembered what Boпndil had asked him. "Дlfar, did you say?" he inquired with sudden seriousness. "Right here in Sovereignston? Why didn't you-"
"That's him!" the shout went up. "That's the scoundrel!" Rodario spotted the approaching pitchfork and fled. In no time he was through the gates and wending his way nimbly among the queuing carts. A moment later four men rushed past in hot pursuit.
Bavragor and Boпndil fell about laughing, Boлndal shook his head silently, and Goпmgar clung to his shield, ready to take shelter in case the long-uns gave up on the adulterer and took their anger out on him.
But the cuckolded husbands and their friends were intent on apprehending Rodario, who had successfully evaded them, leaving his pursuers searching furiously in the rain.
The rest of the company left Sovereignston in a more dignified fashion.
"Дlfar?" said Narmora, returning to the initial question. "Where?"
"Yesterday in the city. I was attacked by one. You didn't see any, then?" Tungdil couldn't help feeling a mild aversion toward the actress, perhaps because of her elven looks. She's an ordinary woman, he told himself. That's all.
She shook her head. "They left us alone. At least we're forewarned." She laid her right hand on Crescent.
About a mile from Sovereignston they were reunited with the philandering impresario, who was waiting under a fir tree and trying to shelter from the rain.
Bavragor couldn't help laughing. "I hope they were worth it!"
"Indeed they were." A look of delectation came over Rodario's face. "I suspect I wasn't the first to enjoy their combined attentions, but they certainly knew how to please." Realizing that the ponies were getting away from him, he sped up to a jog. "That's all in the past now. Come, my loyal companions, let's make haste to the firstling kingdom where unparalleled wonders await us!" His stirring words were somewhat spoiled by the squelching beneath his feet, but he still cut a dash as an adventurer.
Tungdil's memories of Sovereignston weren't nearly as fond. He picked up the pace, unmoved by the city's fluttering pennants and colorful panorama of tiled roofs. Nothing could induce him to look back. Hurrying away from the pride of Weyurn, he tried not to think of the дlf's murderous eyes.
I hope my mysterious rescuer killed him.
III
Kingdom of Weyurn, Girdlegard, Winter, 6234th Solar Cycle As soon as the opportunity arose, the travelers purchased a small cart for their baggage and a pair of horses-one for Rodario and the other for Narmora and Furgas. From then on, the journey westward proceeded considerably faster, not to mention more comfortably.
Rodario, fearing the wrath of the cuckolded husbands, was especially keen to make progress-although it didn't deter him from using his charm and eloquence to make a string of conquests on the way.
A fierce northerly brought with it the season's first snowstorm, the white flakes settling on the frozen ground to form a thick icy layer. Winter seemed to descend on the land and its inhabitants faster and more vigorously than usual. Sleeping in the open was too dangerous, so the company camped out in places where they would be sheltered from the elements, under trees or rocky overhangs, or in derelict houses or ruined forts.
The vast lakes that made up three-quarters of Weyurn's surface were covered in ice. The sun and clouds played on the frozen water, creating glorious displays of shadow and light, but the glittering spectacle could do nothing to win over the twins, who were too afraid of the icy depths to go fishing with Rodario and Furgas.