waiting to act as official bouncer.
“No, sir, I assure you,” said the little man earnestly. “I only want to entertain, and I hope to find favor with the good people of Lallor.”
“How long do you intend to audition?” the clerk intoned, looking up from his parchment.
At this question, the man started to relax. “I think I would need only a fortnight permit, sir. By then I’m sure I could show my worth.”
“Fine,” said the clerk brusquely, seemingly no longer concerned with the man. He was now paying attention only to his parchment, where he was rapidly writing something, the quill pen jiggling busily. But just as the little man finally felt comfortable enough to breathe a sigh of relief and release a broad smile, the clerk looked up again suddenly and said, ‘Two men play five games of chance. Each man wins the same number of games, and there are no ties. How can this be?”
“Whawhat?” the surprised little man stammered.
‘Two men. Five games. Each wins. No ties. How?”
“I… but… how does this
“Come, come, sir,” the gatekeeper burbled reasonably. “Surely you didn’t think that desire was enough to secure entry to Lallor.
We are an exclusive community, sir. We must know that those who seek to entertainespecially those who seek to entertain have their wits about them. Now, come along, please hurry. How can two men play five games with no ties and both win?”
“I’m sorry.” The little man was first confused, then desperate, then crestfallen. “II”
Pryce put a hand on his shoulder. “They weren’t playing each other,” he whispered.
“What?”
“The two men weren’t playing each other,” he repeated. “That’s the only way they could both win an equal number of games.”
Comprehension spread across the little man’s face. The reaction of the clerk, however, was not so beneficent. He struggled to his feet, both fists shaking on the floating marble slab. “I beg your pardon, sir!” he said angrily. “How dare you?”
Pryce knew he had to think and talk even faster now. If that golem was psychically attuned to the clerk’s emotions, his head was applesauce. There was only one thing to do: Distract attention from himself.
“I apologize, but it is imperative I speak to someone in authority. It is about my friend. Gamor Turkal____________________ ” To his amazement,
Pryce watched the clerk’s wrathful expression melt, then, even more incredibly, rise like a basset hound being offered prime steak. The clerk then repeated his previous admonition, but the tone this time was one of apology.
“Sir… I beg your pardon!”
“Yes, yes,” Pryce said humbly. “But my friend Gamor…” He started to point back down the road.
“Of course, sir!” the clerk interrupted, hurrying around the floating marble slab. “Gamor Turkal told us of your coming. We have been waiting for you!”
‘You have?”
“Of course,” the clerk said enthusiastically, raising an arm to put over Pryce’s shoulders, then thinking better of it. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival for some time.”
Pryce blinked. His mind had been ready for a lot of things, but not this. “Really? Well, the storm slowed me down a bit, and then there were the dangers of the pass____________________ ”
“Oh, we knew you would make quick work of them,” the clerk said dismissively. “But come, come. You must be hungry and thirsty after your journey.” Only then did the clerk feel secure enough to take Pryce by the shoulders and lead him toward the open gate.
“Butbut,” Pryce stammered, pointing back at the line of staring pilgrims, “shouldn’t I take the test?”
“Oh, pshaw,” the clerk said. “This test isn’t for you! Only you would think of having the humility to stand in line and take the entrance exam. Your kindness and consideration have not been exaggerated!” He drew Pryce under the gate’s eye, which followed his every move. Covington stared back at the thing, concerned that it might be looking down into his very soul.
“What a beautiful shade of blue,” he said with a toothy but mirthless grin, watching it. “No, green. Now brown!”
The clerk actually chuckled, his many sagging facial parts jiggling like coin sacks. “The Eye of the Inquisitrix,” he said cheerily. “No one enters, of course, without being recorded. Not even you!”
“Sound thinking,” Pryce said, managing to wrest his own eyes away from the ominous cyclopic orb above him. “Very wise.” Then he was inside the gate.
“Sir,” the clerk said demurely, “I can’t begin to tell you what an honor it is that I should be the one to welcome you to our humble city. And that I, Matthaunin Witterstaet, should be allowed to… well, sir, I don’t want to embarrass you, but I shall be telling my nieces and nephews that these hands actually touched…!” The old fellow couldn’t go on, which was just as well, because Pryce wasn’t listening to him. Instead, he was marveling at the exclusive “Jewel of Halruaa.” Whatever might happen to him from that moment on, he would never forget his first look at Lallor.
Both the city and the wall had been built very cunningly and very well. The wall encircled three quarters of the municipality and nestled on the highest elevation of the city. Beyond the wall, the city sloped lazily down to the shoreline of Lallor Bay. As Pryce had discovered earlier, only the very tops of the city’s highest castles could be seen from outside the wall. The slope also kept everyone who waited in line to take the entrance examination from seeing too much of the glory that was Lallor.
One glance told Covington that only Halruaa’s best and brightest would dare live amidst such splendor. He resisted the temptation to rub his eyes and tried to act as if he weren’t overwhelmed. The buildings were of various widths and sizes, but they all seemed to grow out from the lush green vegetation that surrounded them, interspersed with refreshing splashes of riotous color from rare pollandry plants.
Some buildings were classic mansions of tan and dark brown plaster, while others were extensive cottages of precious stone. All were veritable palaces of the most amazing design and construction. Others appeared like huge bulbs of both organic material and opaque glass. The bulbs were not only of many dusky colors but also of many shapes, some more pointed and some more round, but all large enough to comfortably house extended families.
Pryce’s head craned forward to look closer at the landscape. He thought he could see movement within these amazing walls, but it might have been a reflection from the clouds and the sparkling bay. Shaking his head in wonder, he looked over his shoulder to see the more familiar castles that befit the great wizards of any Halruan city. These low, wide constructions almost formed an inner wall of their own, which stretched from one end of the city wall to the other.
“I hope our unassuming little community doesn’t disappoint a man of your travels and experiences,” the admission clerk intoned modestly.
Pryce turned on him with smiling insight. “Laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think… what did you say your name was again, my good man?”
The admission clerk’s jowls shook as he moved his head back in surprise, then widened as his smile of appreciation grew. “Matthaunin Witterstaet, at your service! And, if I may say so, sir, you are as perceptive as everyone has alleged.”
“Everyone?” But before Pryce could pursue the point further, an impressive woman marched purposefully up to stand before them. Her sudden appearance made Pryce aware that the splendid architecture had distracted him from the well-mannered, well-dressed people who went about their everyday business on the wide, well-maintained streets.
The woman stood about five feet, three inches tallthe top of her sandy-colored hair came to his sternumand she must have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. When Pryce finished examining the small feet wedged into skintight boots, bandy but well-shaped legs in dark hide pants, small but powerful torso within the U-necked, blood-red tunic with the white-and-gold-dotted black epaulets, he concentrated on the face above the deep-purple cowled cape that swept off her shoulders and brushed the cobblestoned road at her feet.
Big, dark blue eyes, a snout of a nose, high, prominent cheekbones, and thin, thin, thin lips. Make that lip,
