'Oh, yes, I had forgotten.'
Indio strutted around for a moment, then agreed to the plan. 'This had better work! I go against my better judgment. But you have convinced me.'
He handed Llewellyn the key with the two stones.
'Good luck, partner.'
Taking the key, Llewellyn said, 'Good luck to you. Follow me, but keep your distance. If they should spot any of you, our odds of surviving this adventure will be minimized-if not obliterated in totality-especially the odds related to yours truly.'
With those words, he marched away. Indio's men followed, trying to figure out what the Loquacious One had just said.
'Who goes there?' called an unfriendly voice.
'It is Llewellyn, returned to you, don't you see, as promised!'
'So it is!' From high in a tree dropped the halfling, Osco. His cheek scar was more hideous than Llewellyn had remembered. 'Follow me. The others await you.'
In a few moments, the pair marched into the clearing where the Buckleswashers had pitched camp. They were sitting around a fire, identical in dress and habitat and mood to the halflings he had just left. They stood as Osco and Llewellyn approached.
'So, you've come back,' Bungobar Talltankard exclaimed. 'It's a damned good thing you have.'
'Indeed,' agreed Dimvel Stoutkeg. 'For if you had not returned/ Your effigy we would have burned/ And then this burning blazing fire/ Would've been your actual funeral pyre.'
'Enough singing, already!' Carthax Nayusiyim, the gnome of the group, yelled. 'You and those songs! You'll drive me mad!'
Insulted, Dimvel responded, 'You are mad! And an ugly little gnome, besides!'
Carthax reached for his rod of smiting, but Talltankard intervened. 'Enough! We've no time for this bickering. We're all on edge because this ever-speaking bargainer has kept us waiting.'
'Yes, but I have returned, don't you know,' Llewellyn said. 'And, most remarkably, with the key.'
The six Buckleswashers drew closer to Llewellyn.
'Give it to us,' demanded Carthax.
'Not so fast, my overly zealous compatriots,' countered Llewellyn. 'I want to reiterate our agreement, forged at our last meeting.'
One of the two female Buckleswashers spoke up. 'We agreed to nothing except to let you live.'
'You forget, dear lady, that…'
Talltankard drew his knife. 'My wife, Lyratha, forgets nothing!'
'But when I was last here…'
The other female Buckleswasher added her words: 'Relax, Nervous One! We shall give you a few trinkets and send you on your way.'
Llewellyn thought better of pushing the matter too far. 'That will be fine. That is all I ask. Except for one other thing, I must say.'
'And that is what?' Osco asked.
'May I have the stones from the key after you take the treasure from the chest?'
'The jade stones?' enquired the gnome, laughing. 'They are practically worthless in the whole Shining South. You are an idiot to want them.'
'Yes, I suppose,' Llewellyn said. 'But the woman I love-the most beautiful woman I have seen in any kingdom-has a great fondness for jade. Surely, I do not ask much.'
'Agreed,' Talltankard said. 'I suppose you should have something. Now let me have the key.'
Llewellyn nervously handed it to him. But a bit of his anxiety faded when the jade stone was placed in the key. It fit perfectly, and the whole company of Buckleswashers grinned.
Osco and Talltankard dragged the two-foot high by two-foot wide chest from the mouth of the cave into the fading sunlight. The rest of the company watched, as did Llewellyn, but every few seconds he looked around the perimeter of the area. He prayed Indio's folk were ready.
Talltankard turned the key, and smoke seeped out of the chest. Then Osco pulled open the lid and revealed the myriad jewels and gold it contained.
While the company stared at it, stunned, Llewellyn asked, 'I do so hate to ask you, since you are all so very busy, but may I have the stones, as you promised?'
Talltankard removed the key and tossed it to Llewellyn, who caught it.
'But that's all you get, vagabond!' Carthax, the gnome, said sourly. 'Be on your way!'
Stoutkeg broke into a song: 'We're richer than we ever thought/ Just reward for battles fought.'
But, suddenly, the voice of Indio the Black answered with its own song: 'But don't expect to keep that treasure/ For taking it shall be our pleasure.'
Indio's band, who slightly outnumbered their opponents, attacked the Buckleswashers. In minutes, all were locked in combat. For a brief moment, Indio stood free of opposition, and Llewellyn approached him.
'Don't forget. Twenty percent.'
Indio stared at him coldly. 'You've served your purpose, scavenger. Get out of my sight before I cut off twenty percent of your head!'
Llewellyn backed into the brush, away from Indio and the rest. Carefully, he removed the three jade stones from the key and put it in his leather sack.
'There are a few things Zalathorn told me that I have kept to myself. Vagabond, am I? Scavenger, you call me? No! Try victor!'
Pairs and trios of battling halflings (and a gnome) spread out into the woods, up the mountain, and far into the cave. Here and there, a body lay stunned, unconscious, or worse. But more importantly to Llewellyn, the treasure was left unguarded.
Llewellyn ran to the chest, depleted it of as much of its contents as his improvised sack would hold-which was almost all-and, seeing that the way east toward the Halar Hills was safe and free of otherwise occupied halflings (and a gnome), he ran as quickly as his feet would cany him.
Then, suddenly, he heard Talltankard's voice. 'The vagabond! He has cheated us all!'
Llewellyn's heart beat faster, for he knew it would not be long before the halflings (and a gnome) would catch up to him. The sack was growing heavier, and it was slowing him down.
He took the jade stones and placed them in the three forged holes in the silver amulet he had acquired from Indio. And the moment the third stone was secured in the amulet, he felt himself leaving the ground, elevating, ascending, flying. Flying!
No, Llewellyn realized, not flying, but moving, or, more precisely, being moved.
Then, just as suddenly as the sensation had begun, it ended.
Zalathorn's amulet had proven to be as invaluable as Llewellyn knew it would. As the wizard had informed him, when the same person had possession of both the key and the amulet-with the jade stones in place in the latter- their bearer would be returned, together with his or her possessions, to his or her place of birth.
And, indeed, the Talkative One was home in the town of Klint, safe from both bands of adventurers and much richer than he had ever been. He looked around and sighed, relishing the safety and comfort he felt.
Llewellyn sensed that the wizard, too, must be amused. After all, it was Zalathorn himself who had helped him. It was Zalathorn who had 'informed' him of the amulet that was originally part of the treasure. And it was he who revealed to him that one of the stones and the amulet were now in the possession of a band of halflings led by one who had the arrogance and presumption to call himself Indio the Black.
He doubted that Indio the Black or the Buckleswashers were amused, though, and vowed to steer clear of them for the rest of his days.
Indeed, he thought, a most excellent vow.
