Five
A Question of Company
There was a dwarf in the doorway. A rather young dwarf with a large and very gaudy sword slung over his shoulder.
Wiz wasn’t good at telling dwarves apart, but in all the World there was only one sword decorated in such hideously bad taste.
“Glandurg?”
“I told you once, Wizard, the day would come when you would need doughty fighters. I promised you then that on that day I would stand with you.”
“Uh, thanks,” Wiz muttered. He and Glandurg had never been formally introduced. That had something to do with the fact that Glandurg had spent most of their acquaintance trying to kill him. This had been the result of some kind of deal between Glandurg’s uncle, a very minor dwarf king, and a gang of trolls. That had been patched over, but to say that Wiz wasn’t thrilled to see the dwarf again was to put it mildly.
Glandurg reached over his shoulder and patted the gem-encrusted hilt of his weapon. “The sword Blind Fury has dispatched one of your enemies. Now it shall sing in battle against your new foes.”
That was the other thing. Blind Fury was not only decorated in eye-searingly gaudy style, it was enchanted and no one could withstand its blows. But like its present wielder the spell was seriously lacking in ept. The sword had indeed slain an enemy programmer-magician by slicing through a suit of heavy power armor like it was soggy toilet paper. However, the blow had been aimed at Wiz, and Craig, the programmer, had the misfortune to be standing next to him.
Wiz cast a look of mute appeal at Bal-Simba. The big wizard simply spread his hands. “If you will excuse me, Sparrow, I have other matters to attend to.” With that he rose and left.
“Now then,” Malkin said, striding toward the center of the room, flipping her dagger into the air and catching it by the point, “we need to get this expedition organized.”
Wiz sighed. This was going to be a long quest.
Two hours later, Wiz met Bal-Simba at the turning of the corridor. The big wizard looked at Wiz as he fell in beside him and raised an eyebrow in unspoken question.
“I think,” Wiz said brightly, “that I may scream. In fact I’m on my way up to the battlements to do just that.”
“I am not unfamiliar with the feeling.”
“Want to join me?”
“I have never found it a particularly productive exercise.”
Wiz made a face. “Has it ever occurred to you that trying to exercise leadership around this place is like herding cats?”
“Quite recently,” his companion said dryly. “Sparrow, you already know what I think of this enterprise.”
“Almost, I’m coming to share your view. Almost.”
“Concerned about your companions?”
“Wouldn’t you be?” He ticked them off on his fingers. “June’s crazy, Malkin’s a kleptomaniac adrenaline junkie, Danny’s still kind of wild and Glandurg is just plain dangerous.”
Bal-Simba didn’t argue. “Even so, they will be at your side in this business, and if you are determined to do this thing it were best if you counted their strengths rather than their weaknesses. None of them is without skills which you might need.”
Wiz thought about it for a minute and looked up at the big wizard.
“Do you really think they’ll help?”
“The point, Sparrow, is that worrying about them will not help either. A positive attitude can give you an advantage and I think you will need every one you can find.”
“All I wanted was a simple little scouting expedition, to probe around the edges a little.”
“Life does not always give us what we want,” Bal-Simba told him. “Very often we must choose to accept what it gives us with the best grace possible.”
###
“Isn’t the sun ever going to break through?” Wiz growled as he looked out the window of the castle’s great hall toward the west.
“Not today,” Bal-Simba said, looking over his friend’s shoulder.
It was afternoon, but the low clouds and deepening fog had made the day even dimmer than the dawn. The sullen gloom beyond the window reflected Wiz’s mood perfectly and that, he thought, was one thing he didn’t need right now.
Most of the rest of the party shared his mood. Not entirely, of course. Malkin was bouncing around like a fox terrier, happy at the prospect of action—not to mention slitting a few throats and perhaps lifting some purses. Glandurg struck a grimly heroic pose. Danny was just grim and June was, well, June.
Wiz kept looking out the window. “A blizzard coming on?”
“Perhaps. But I think something more than that.”
“What?”
“I do not know,” Bal-Simba said, “but I suspect we shall find out after you are gone.”
The way he said it indicated he didn’t think they’d like what they found.
Wiz turned away from the window. “Look, I know you don’t like this, but I have got to do what I can to save Moira.”
Bal-Simba continued to look out the window. “You must act according to your nature, Sparrow. Only consider what a victory it would be for the Enemy if something were to happen to you.”
Wiz bit his lip. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
As he said it, he rubbed his right ring finger, bare for the first time in months. Like the others he was leaving his Ring of Protection behind. The spell, which froze the wearer into invulnerable immobility when facing a mortal threat, had not protected Moira. What’s more, Wiz’s experience in the Dragon Marches had proven that the spell could be used against the wearer by freezing that person through the simple expedient of keeping up the threat. Wiz knew the rings wouldn’t help on this expedition, but still . . .
Bal-Simba turned from the window. “The time draws near.”
The scouting party all wore traveling cloaks and each of them carried a pack. They were armed and armored, each in his or her appropriate fashion. For Wiz and Danny that meant their wizard’s staffs, since neither of them was proficient with this world’s weapons. Glandurg had a mail byrnie to his knobby knees and Blind Fury slung over his back. Malkin had a shirt of light mail and her rapier and dagger—plus who-knows-what concealed about her person. June had her knife.
Since they would be sending themselves along the Wizard’s Way rather than being sent there was no need to start from the great hall. However the cavernous hall had enough room for the people who had come to see them off, plus the dozen or so of the Mighty posted at strategic points around them in case something nasty tried to come in as they went out.
Among the others were Shauna, holding tight to a tearful Ian. And of course the dragon that was now the body of Wiz’s wife.
Moira stepped close and pressed her scaly lips to his. “Please be careful.”
Wiz manfully ignored the dragon breath and hugged her as best he could. “Hey, we’re only going for a look-see, remember?”
He looked around one last time. “Okay, I guess we’re ready.”
With that they took their places, close within the circle. Wiz raised his staff, gestured and spoke and with five small pops of displaced air they disappeared along the Wizards Way into the stronghold of the Enemy.