grumpy. Does he want to come berry picking with us?'
Toede's face flushed to the color of overripe tomatoes. 'His… friend would rather have himself stripped naked and fed to wild tigers than spend one moment in kender slavery! If my hands were free I'd stretch your poaching little neck far enough to hang draperies on it! How dare you imprison me like this!'
Toede expected the kender to back up, like a tentative courtier daunted by a superior's anger. Instead, the kender held her ground, such that Toede was straining at the end of his leash, his chains taut from his outstretched arms. The kender did not seem daunted in the least. In fact, she wore a small smile.
'Now, that attitude is not going to help,' chided the kender merrily. 'Your companion has come a long way in the time he has been with us, haven't you, Mr. Groag?' Toede heard a mumbled agreement behind him.
Toede spat and cursed, 'I am not like Mr. Groag. I am a great and powerful lord, bound for ever greater greatness! Do you have any idea, any idea whatsoever of whom you are… you are…'
Toede hesitated. He was close enough to examine her jewelry in detail, and part of his mind was already involved in estimating its net worth and use. One item caught his attention and began sending messages, marked 'urgent' to the section of his mind that controlled his ranting. Finally, the rant-section of Toede's brain took a look at the message, and then at the item hanging around her neck on a small silver chain.
'Pardon me for a moment,' said Toede with sudden calmness, turning back to his companion. He hissed at the other hobgoblin. 'Mister Groag, this wouldn't be by any chance Kronin's daughter that I am now addressing? The one that took you captive?'
Groag nodded.
Toede continued in a low mutter. 'And is that a key she is wearing right here?' He motioned to his sternum, trying not to clatter his chains.
Groag nodded again.
'And would that be the key to these locks?' he whispered between clenched teeth, motioning as gently as possible to his wrist manacles.
Groag nodded again.
'Aha,' he said, and Groag saw his former master's smile widen to the point it seemed to split his face. That had always been a bad sign in the past, so Groag began to back away from the highmaster.
Toede turned to the kender girl, his smile softening slightly, his face becoming a placid plate of contentment. 'I must apologize, my dear kender. I have been under a great deal of stress recently and sometimes lose my temper. I say things I do not mean, and, well, hurt the feelings of others. I'm sorry. Very sorry. Perhaps I do merely need a change of lifestyle.'
The kender's smile lit up the room. Toede felt his stomach tighten in a spasm of pain at the very sight.
Instead, he locked his teeth together, fought his own rising gorge, and continued. 'Do you have any idea how much I truly enjoy berry picking? Why, I'm an old, seasoned hand at it. And perhaps, if I could be so bold, might there be some poetry as well?'
'If you wish.' The kender smiled with genuine excitement. 'Though I thought we might go easy your first time out.'
'Oh, of course,' said Toede. Groag shook his head, wondering, not for the first time, if Toede were dead, and this was some strange and bewildering spirit that had moved into his body.
The young kender pulled the key from its silver chain and began unlocking their fetters from the central bolt. Only when her back was turned did Groag see Toede's face immediately cloud and small lightning bolts of anger dance beneath his deeply creased brows. The only Toede present, realized Groag, was the one that had always inhabited that body.
Chapter 3
The kender's full name was Taywin Kroninsdau, at least that's what Toede thought she said when she made introductions, making mention of Kronin's name. Thankfully neither Kronin nor Talorin were immediately at hand to discern his true identity, and Toede hoped no one caught the early part of his self-identifying rant. Taywin seemed perfectly agreeable to calling him Mr. Underhill. Were the kender to figure out who they really had tumbled upon, they might try to ransom him. And that old scaleflint Gildentongue would probably rather leave him there to rot than part with one sliver of steel.
As it was, Taywin Kroninsdau nodded brightly (she was the type of semi-sentient who did everything brightly) when he introduced himself as Mr. Underhill and gave no sign that she doubted his words.
Their hut had a kender guard posted outside, a sleepy sort who seemed lazy even by kender standards, who was to accompany them along with Taywin. Toede and Groag had their chains lengthened so they could take shortened, hopping strides, with about ten feet of chain connecting them.
Taywin led the way, the large basket in hand. The two chained hobgoblins were reduced to skipping to keep up with her. The amused kender guard, armed with a particularly wicked-looking spear, brought up the rear, alongside a shag-muzzled, honey-colored mastiff. Taywin introduced the guard as Miles and made Toede shake hands politely. Introductions were not made to the dog.
The sought-after fruit hung from low, dense raspberry bushes that flanked a small river, the probable outflow of the lake Toede had seen earlier (the presence of which had forced him to stray into kender territory). The tumbling water was too small to do the name 'river' proper justice, and too large and energetic to be considered a mere stream or creek. It was a whitened cascade of water about twenty feet across, thundering over falls and cresting in hydraulics, the latter being great standing waves three feet higher at the top than at the base. The spray from the water hung like a low fog, and the omnipresent dampness encouraged the bushes to bear fruit throughout the warm months.
Toede was still seething inwardly with the indignation of his plight. It took a full ten minutes for him to switch from planning imagined revenge on all kender to assessing the situation for possible escape. The water looked too rough for a chain-bound swimmer, but could throw off the scent of a party of dogs. The spray would dampen any clear sight or bow shot past a hundred feet, and the thunder of the cascades meant that any survivors would have to crawl for help rather than count on being heard crying out in pain.
The girl seemed like no real problem, and the guard was not particularly watchful. Toede realized he would have to take him out quickly, before the dog reacted. After which, there was the matter of Groag.
Toede sighed-there always was a weak link in any plan. They had been spirited out of the hut before making any real decisions as to escape, so he had to act and hope that Groag would pick up on the momentum. More likely another large mountain would hit the sea of Istar, Toede reflected bitterly as they skipped glumly alongside the water. The path was only wide enough for a single creature, and in places was devilishly slick, even for those not hampered by iron chains.
Lord of Flotsam, Lord of Flotsam, Lord of Flotsam. He repeated it now as a mantra, not a daydream.
The sun peeked out from behind the clouds about the time Taywin chose a likely place. She looked back, and Toede beamed at her, trying his best to outshine the timid Groag. If I play this right, Toede thought, they will never know what hit them. Taywin brought out a smile that gleamed in the sun in return to Toede's, but Toede was unaware of it, his eyes riveted on the key around her neck.
'This looks like a nice spot. They should be ripe enough. Mister Groag, Mister Underhill, you can start here. I have some baskets…' She fished several smaller baskets from her hamperlike carryall.
'Of course,' said Toede, smiling and shoving his arms wrist-deep into the nearest berry-laden bush, wrapping his fingers around a likely collection of berries in the process. The smile froze as the bush locked around him as if it were a tooth-laden vise. Shouting, he pulled his scratched hands away.
'Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Underhill,' said Taywin, 'I thought you knew about the thorns. All raspberries have thorns.'
'Of course, thorns,' said Toede through gritted teeth. 'I knew about them, just forgot for a moment. It's
