didn’t hang about for a little chat with the Order, either, he took off with his heels twinkling. The army drove the retreating enemy to the north and out past the Lonely Giant.
Everybody agreed about one thing: It would be a long time before the Nameless One recovered from a blow like this, and he wouldn’t try to attack the kingdom again for another five or six hundred years at least. We would have to hope that if the sorcerer did get it into his head to come back and snap at Valiostr’s heels again, the Order wouldn’t waste any time getting the Rainbow Horn out of its old cobweb-covered trunk.
While the army was busy with the war in the north and polishing off everyone who still needed to be polished off, the capital gradually returned to normal. Every citizen walked around with a happy and contented look, as if he personally had stuffed the Rainbow Horn up that cursed sorcerer’s backside.
Well, we had our victory, but life had to go on somehow. And the army had to be fed and maintained. Surprisingly enough, now when the people gave their hard-earned money to the king’s tax collectors, they hardly even complained. Somehow everybody seemed to have grasped that it was better to have a strong, well-fed army than have the Nameless One on their back. I remember that For once uttered the memorable phrase: “A kingdom sometimes needs a war to buck its ideas up and dust it off.” My old teacher, now living in distant Garrak, was probably right. War is a terrible thing, but afterward you see many things through different eyes.
People gradually came back to the city; they listened to the town criers in the squares telling everyone about the army’s victories in the north, and the victories of the united forces of Valiostr, the Border Kingdom, and the dark elves over the orcs in the south; restored the houses that had been ruined in the war; and put their lives back together. Everything was gradually going back to the way it used to be.
But for our little group, everything went topsy-turvy. As soon as the magicians had dealt with their business (i.e., the Nameless One), they turned their attention to me. They detailed my old friend Roderick to stay with me, and he followed good old Harold around like a tail. But, to be quite serious, they stuck every member of our group in the royal palace for a month. I don’t know what they did with the others, but I personally was questioned three times a day by one of the archmagicians. They were mostly interested in Hrad Spein. The archmagicians asked their questions, I gave them answers, and Roderick wrote it all down. And on and on like that forever. I was fortunate enough to see Artsivus twice.
The old man’s health had deteriorated while I was on my journey. He had lost weight and his cough was even worse; he was always huddling under a warm rug and shivering. Roderick brought his teacher medicine all the time. I felt sorry for the Master of the Order, and a blind man could have seen what an effort those conversations cost him. The archmagician asked me questions, too, but they were far more ticklish than the others, and I had to prevaricate and lie a bit. I didn’t want to tell the Order about the Master, the World of Chaos, and other stuff like that.
It seemed to me that I’d told the Order everything I could, but the magicians just kept on and on asking questions. I had to tell them everything a second time, then a third time, and even a fourth. They dragged everything out of me, every last little detail, and there was no end in sight.
I hardly ever saw my friends. Only Kli-Kli, who had taken the young king under her wing (that was what she told me) sometimes dropped in to see me and share the news. Hallas, Eel, and Lamplighter were with the Wild Hearts who had survived the Lonely Giant and the Field of Fairies. Sagot be praised, Honeycomb and Invincible had survived the battle of Avendoom and now they were also with their friends. For the time being the king was keeping the Wild Hearts near him.
As for Egrassa, he had unexpectedly become the head of the House of the Black Rose. Tresh Epilorssa had been killed in the battle of the Field of the Fairies, so the leafy crown had passed to Miralissa’s cousin. And now Egrassa was with the dark elves who had come to fight for Valiostr but, according to Kli-Kli, he was going to return to Zagraba in a couple of weeks.
Eventually, after I’d told the magicians my story darkness only knows how many times, they gave up and said I could push off.
“Hot pies here! Get your hot pies here!”
“The valiant army of Valiostr!”
“Have you heard? Yesterday in the Port City they knocked off a carriage full of gold!”
“What would a carriage full of gold be doing in the Port City?”
“They say the ships from Isilia are going to come three times as often.”
“Praise be to the king, if he hadn’t—”
“Long live the king!”
“Is it true the dark elves have killed all the orcs and now they’ve gone to war with the dwarves?”
“You must be a real fool, brother, to go around spreading nonsense like that!”
“Hot pies here!”
Nothing changes in our world. It was only a month and a half since the end of the war, but the people were already enjoying their favorite pastime—gossiping.
Mid-January was incredibly cold and snowy, but that didn’t bother the citizens at all, and the streets were full of people having a good time. They were celebrating the latest victory: The army had pushed the last of our enemies back beyond the Lonely Giant.
I had a meeting with our entire group planned for late that evening in one of the taverns of the Inner City. At last we would have a chance to get together again. But that was in the evening, and right now I had absolutely nothing to do. My little trip to distant parts had left me completely out of touch with what was going on in the city, and now I needed to catch up with things. And I had to look for a new lair, too.
When I checked to satisfy my curiosity, I found the Knife and Ax still standing in the same old place. Despite the battering it had taken during that famous fight the previous summer, the tavern looked as good as new. The holes made in the walls by the demon had been skillfully patched up, and the entire building looked as if Vukhdjaaz had never come within a hundred yards of it. Even the sign was still the same. I pushed the door of the establishment open and walked in.
I didn’t know the thugs standing at the entrance, but they obviously knew me very well, and let me in without any questions, as good as saluted me, in fact. The large hall had been repaired and now it was as noisy and crowded as ever. All the tables and benches were occupied by the brotherhood of thieves and rogues of various shades and hues. Serving wenches scurried about between them, carrying food and beer.
Of course everyone pretended they didn’t recognize me, although I saw surprise and even fright in some faces. I nodded to two or three of my acquaintances and headed straight for the bar.
Old Gozmo was there at his usual battle station. When the old rogue saw me, he almost had a stroke. The expression on his long face became even more miserable and the former thief turned white and crimson by turns. Finally he managed to mumble, “Harold?”
“Glad you haven’t forgotten me, Gozmo.”
“How the … Where did you come from?”
“Meaning?” It looked as if not everyone was very pleased to see me.
“Well,” said Gozmo, confused, “they said you’d left Avendoom forever. Like For.”
“Who said?”
“Everybody said so. I’m glad to see it’s not true.…”
I believed that, of course.
“I see business is still the same as usual.”
“No thanks to you,” the innkeeper muttered. He seemed to have recovered from his surprise. “I believe you saw what Markun’s lads and the Doralissians and that monster did to the place? Do you know how much money it cost me to fix everything? Aren’t you afraid I might send you the bill?”
“No, I’m not,” I said with a smile.
That smile made Gozmo hold his tongue.
“Surely you agree, Gozmo, that a bit of damage to the tavern is better than having your reputation ruined, Markun chasing you, or maybe even losing your life?”
“You’re a plague, Harold.”
“I do my best. Is my table free?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Beer. Black.”
