Lord Toede

The idea of a decent door moved even higher into the top ten of his 'to-do' list. The creature was as black as soot, with pale green eyes. It would have been considered huge even if Toede were not lying on his back looking up into its slavering jaws. The hound sniffed at Toede and growled again.

Toede's eyes never left the hound, but his hand spidered along the bedroll until it closed on the hilt of the zombie's short blade.

Still in silence, he swiftly brought the dagger up between himself and the dog. The creature had some experience with weapons, because it backed up a few paces. Toede rose, snaking his other hand out to grab the zombie's sword from its scabbard. Now with two weapons, he advanced on the creature.

The creature backed up a few more steps. From his position Toede could see no more animals, and assumed that this one was a stray or loner. Toede moved forward another couple of paces, as the creature backed fully out of the cabin, into the moonlight beyond.

In the moonlight, the creature seemed to shrink in size and menace. Indeed it was a dog, a large mastiff, inky dark and mud-spattered. It stretched its back out, pushed forward on its paws, and wagged its tail, its tongue hanging out the left side of its mouth. It whined at him.

Toede smiled, thinking of when he had first met Charka, and assumed the gnoll was a dog. Perhaps this dog was a dog, and would prove some help in hunting. Either that or make for a good meal in a tight spot.

Toede tucked the dagger in his belt (keeping a firm hand on his long sword) and stepped through the doorway, reaching out to pet the animal, making small, affectionate clicking noises with his tongue.

'Gotcha, you rat!' said a vaguely familiar voice as the back of Toede's neck exploded in a spasm of pain. The ground came up very fast (the dog leaping out of the way), and he was swallowed by blackness.

But not before another, more familiar voice said, 'Oh, pooh, I think you hurt him.'

Chapter 21

In which Our Protagonist is lured away from his pastoral setting and his final reward, and becomes involved with a situation of his own making, but not quite exactly as he would have expected it.

Toede awoke with a ringing that started at the base of his neck and radiated throughout his entire form, ending in (what he imagined were) vibrating fingertips.

He expected to be back on the stream bank, having set a new record for dying. Instead, he was inside a suspiciously familiar dwelling, made of hooped wood and brush in the kender style. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus.

'Hello, Toede,' said a small figure across the room. 'You really are Toede, aren't you? The one and true Toede.'

Toede squinted, normal vision returning. The figure was familiar, child-sized, and dressed in fringed leather. Her face was more tightly drawn and serious than before, and the soft russet ringlets of her hair had been replaced by a short, rust-colored down that snugly wrapped her skull.

'Taywin,' he muttered. 'Kronin's daughter. The berry picker. The kender poet. You've changed your look.' He couldn't help but frown in disapproval, though to his hobgoblin sensibilities anything was an improvement over her previous appearance.

Taywin Kroninsdau passed a hand over her scalp. 'It is you,' she hissed, then in a more normal voice added, 'You saved my life, a year ago.'

'I was…' Toede paused. If she had wanted simple vengeance, she would have had him killed immediately. Try honesty, he thought, but temper it with wisdom.

'I was just trying to escape,' said Toede, raising his eyebrows to indicate his sincerity. 'Saving you was a happy by-product.'

'Yes,' said Taywin, her face furrowing. 'It was that awful Groag's idea, wasn't it?'

Now comes the wisdom part. Toede nodded as if in agreement, but added, 'Groag's involvement is immaterial to my own actions. One must take responsibility for one's own deeds.'

'Ah yes,' nodded Taywin. 'Be truthful in thy trysts and reap the bounty of thy trust,' she said, smiling at him.

Toede wondered if her poetry had taken a turn for the worse. That would explain the haircut. He shook his head, waved his hand, and said, 'Whatever. Where am I?'

'In our camp,' said Taywin, ignoring his confusion. 'We're having a major moot this evening, and Daddy's going to have to decide if we're going to join the Allied Rebellion or not. You'll be there, of course.'

'Of course,' said Toede, already checking the exits and wondering how many guards must be posted outside. They hadn't chained him up, which was a good sign, but this talk of a rebellion was bad. Perhaps he could learn more, then head for the hills until he ascertained whoever it was they were rebelling against.

'This revel alliance…' began Toede.

'Rebel,' corrected Taywin. 'If s the Allied Rebellion.'

'… is a new thing,' finished Toede. 'Assume I'm unaware of what has transpired since we last met. Pretend I'm ignorant in all this.'

'I come to you skyclad and unshorn, seeking the teachings of the flesh.' She was quoting again, and something tickled the back of Toede's mind. 'The rebellion got its start about five months ago, after the destruction of most of Flotsam by a magical creature of great power,' she said.

'His name was Jugger,' muttered Toede. 'At least that was the name you or I could pronounce.'

Taywin's eye lit up in childlike glee. 'So you were there! Both sides have claimed so!'

Toede shrugged and said, 'For a little while I was. But what…' Toede's question was interrupted by a knock at the door, and a tall, flame-haired human who was kneeling down to peer inside.

'Is our guest awake?' said Bunniswot, looking tanner and (if possible) thinner than he did at his last meeting with Toede.

'I was just telling him the tale of the rebellion,' Taywin said brightly. 'He was there, as you said, at the helm of the mighty hammer-creature… What did you say its name was?'

'Jugger,' said Toede, regarding Bunniswot as if the scholar had just popped out of a cake. 'I was unaware you two knew each other,' he said, eyes wide, adding to himself, But not horribly surprised, given that you're both a few boulders short of an avalanche.

Taywin shot a concerned look at Bunniswot. 'And our other guest, is he…?'

Bunniswot sighed. 'Out spreading the good word, again. I last saw him trying to win over your father's guards.'

Taywin rose and stomped her small feet. 'I asked him to stop doing that. Daddy will get the wrong idea about the movement, and he'll never help us. I'll go get him.'

Bunniswot nodded. 'Good idea, but take Miles with you.' At the sound of his name, a vaguely familiar kender guard popped his head in the hut. He nodded at Taywin, then stared at Toede and smiled. It was a creepy smile,

made all the more so by the fact that every second tooth, top and bottom, was missing.

The berry-picking guard, Toede realized, and he suddenly understood the force of the blow on the back of his own head. Toede touched the lump there and smiled back venomously. Whatever else, this matter was far from over.

They locked glares for a moment, then Taywin breezed between them. She curtsied before Bunniswot, and said, 'Dance upon the water lilies, Scholar Bunniswot.'

Bunniswot returned the benediction. 'Dance upon the water lilies, Taywin Kroninsdau.'

The two kender disappeared, and Bunniswot, still hunched over, shuffled over to where Taywin had been seated and sat down, stretching his long legs.

Bunniswot managed a tired smile. 'So, how are you feeling? When Miles and Taywin dragged you in, I was afraid they were too rough on you.'

Toede shrugged off the concern and said levelly. '/ come to you skyclad and unshorn, seeking the teachings of the flesh, eh?'