expected. There were none of the smaller yugoloths atop the wall at the moment. No doubt they came up here only to make periodic inspections.
The bard halted when he stood over the gate. If the gatehouse was laid out as he expected, the controls for the gate would be in a room just above the gate-directly beneath his feet. There was a trapdoor near the outer wall that must lead down to the control room. Two yugoloths stood on it.
Joel looked out over the wall to the outside of the fortress with an expression of annoyance on his face. After a moment, he whirled around and addressed the nearest yugoloth. 'Tyrannar Neri is expecting a visitor. She is late in arriving. Have you spotted anyone approaching the bastion?' he demanded imperiously.
The yugoloth shrugged and shook its head.
Joel tapped his foot impatiently and glared at the yugoloth as if it might be lying. After a moment, he said, 'I need to speak with the gatekeeper immediately.'
Joel felt a sharp pain in one side of his head, and the yugoloth's telepathic words formed in his mind: Not standard procedure, the yugoloth informed him.
'I know it's not standard procedure,' Joel snapped. 'It's not standard procedure for the tyrannar to cower in the temple either, or for an angry goddess to take up residence in our lord's throne room, now, is it?'
Not our fault the gatekeeper let her in, the yugoloth insisted.
Joel rolled his eyes as if he were tired of the yugoloths excuses. 'I know that,' he said. 'Unless you-'
An excuse not to pay us on time, the yugoloth argued.
'Since when does the tyrannar need an excuse?' Joel growled. 'As I was saying, unless you want a repetition of the whole ugly affair with Beshaba, I suggest you let me speak with the gatekeeper.'
Another power is coming? the yugoloth demanded. The creature chittered with its teeth in what Joel presumed was a nervous reaction.
'Beshaba has a sister, you know,' Joel replied curtly.
Several of the yugoloths joined in a chorus of chittering. The yugoloth who was communicating with Joel motioned with its head, and the two standing on the trapdoor stepped aside. One of the yugoloths pulled on the ring that opened the door. A flicker of torchlight shone in the hole below. A ladder led downward. Joel could see no sign of the gatekeeper.
Joel handed his torch to the yugoloth spokesman and began climbing down the ladder. When he'd gone down four steps, he looked up at the yugoloth and ordered, 'Close the door behind me. I'll knock when I'm ready to leave.' Then the bard continued his descent.
With his hand clenched about the little wooden harp, Joel stepped down to the floor of the gate's control room. It was possible the gatekeeper would prove to be some creature he couldn't deceive. If such a creature, whatever it was, attacked him, he would be left with no choice but to flee to Fermata.
The air was suffocating in the room below. It took Joel's eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dim light of a single torch. A tiny window in the outer wall looked out over the gate, and another one on the opposite wall looked out over the courtyard. An array of large gears, levers, and handles occupied the other two walls.
There were signs that the gatekeeper actually lived in the room. A cot stood against the outer window, and beneath that a chamber pot. On a small table beside the cot rested a water bottle and a half-finished meat pie.
A figure stood beside the cot. Joel's eyes widened in surprise. While his inductive reasoning had proved correct-the gatekeeper did indeed prove to be a human, and a priest — the gatekeeper's identity came as a bit of a shock to the bard. The gatekeeper wore the robes of a novice. He was tall and handsome, with blue eyes and golden hair.
It was the same priest of Xvim Joel had battled four nights ago in Sigil. The priest who had arranged for Jas's abduction. The priest who had deliberately killed himself by slicing his flesh to shreds on the razorvine. Upon his death, the Xvimlar had returned here to his god's realm as a petitioner.
Lucky I disguised my features, Joel thought. It was lucky, too, that he had learned the priest's name from Walinda's interrogation of the dead hydroloth. 'I am Hate-master Camfer, Hatemaster Perr,' the bard greeted the man.
The priest bowed. 'Perr?' Was that my name?' he asked.
Suddenly Joel remembered that petitioners recalled nothing of their past lives. Finder had given his only two petitioners their names again, but apparently the Xvimlar didn't bother with such niceties.
'Yes,' Joel answered.
'I was powerful then,' Perr noted, with a hint of anger in his voice.
Joel was struck with an idea. An unsettled gatekeeper was a poor gatekeeper. A true follower of Xvim would never settle for such a lowly position. Even as a petitioner, a follower of Xvim would be ambitious, would despise others, especially those who kept him from the superior position of power to which his faith entitled him.
'Yes,' Joel replied. 'Before you died, you were powerful. If you had succeeded in your last mission, they would have made you a ruinlord… possibly.' 'Possibly? Why possibly?' Perr asked.
'Well, you know the political situa- Oh, excuse me. I'd forgotten. You don't remember, do you?' Joel asked.
'No,' Perr replied with a chill tone.
'Suffice it to say you did not get along with Tyrannar Neri, but he might still have promoted you. After all, you were his man. Tyrannar Noxxe, on the other hand, never appreciated your devotion.'
'But Tyrannar Noxxe is dead,' Perr noted.
'But he wouldn't have died if Beshaba hadn't entered the fortress, which she might not have done if you had been successful in your last mission. But if you had been successful and lived, Noxxe might still be alive and you wouldn't be promoted. Hence, I qualified my statement with 'possibly.''
'What was my last mission in life?' Perr asked.
'Well, your cover story was you were bringing back a runaway slave. Actually, you were involved in arranging an attack on Beshaba's fortress,' Joel lied.
'Why?'
Joel shrugged. 'I do not know. You would not tell me more before you left.'
'I told you of my mission? Were we friends?' Perr asked.
'Hardly,' Joel said with a sniff. 'We are, after all, priests of Xvim. It would be more accurate to say we share most of the same enemies. Nonetheless, it irks me to see you reduced to this menial role. It's a waste of your talents.'
'I am gatekeeper of the Bastion of Hate,' Perr growled. 'It is an honor accorded me for having died in service to Lord Xvim.'
'Look around you. This is a slave's job. It's been pushed off on you because you're an expendable petitioner,' Joel retorted. 'Everyone of any power is in the temple trying to hide from Beshaba's spreading ill luck. Otherwise they'd put someone with more sense in here. Tell me, did you let Beshaba into the fortress because she enchanted you, or did you hope she might destroy Tyrannar Noxxe?'
'I did not let her in,' Perr shouted angrily. 'She tore both gates in half. Nearly a hundred yugoloths died trying to block her entry before they realized she was a goddess and fled before her mad eyes.'
'Really?' Joel asked with astonishment. 'Excuse me. I see that Tyrannar Neri has misinformed me concerning the goddess's arrival. He's convinced the surviving yugoloths that you let her in. No doubt Neri was eager to convince everyone that you were not worthy of this post, let alone one more challenging and suitable to one of your power.'
'I had the gate repaired in less than two hours,' Pen-said proudly. 'And it functions perfectly-better, in fact, than it did before.'
'Well, that is hardly surprising,' Joel said, 'considering the talents you possessed in life. As I said before, your talents are wasted in this position.'
'Are you prepared to offer me another position, Hate-master Camfer?' Perr asked.
Joel smiled. 'That all depends,' he said. He turned to look out the window of the inner bastion wall, the one that overlooked the courtyard. The giant yugoloths were still performing marching drills down below.
'On what?' Perr asked.
Joel turned back to face the petitioner. 'Tyrannar Neri has insulted you by placing you here,' he insisted. 'He
