Pinkus, an ogre or ogre-magus of some unknown sort, are charged with numerous crimes against Nyrond. Having been found guilty, the four must either be brought to justice by beheading or accept a test of perilous nature. If the former course is taken, sentence will be carried out instantly. …' -
The grand count ceased reading at this juncture, for Lord Maheal had fainted, and the noise of his sudden fall disturbed the process. 'You there!' he said irritably to the officer of the guards. 'Stand that lily-livered nephew of mine upright, and slap him smartly until he is again in possession of his senses, such as they are.' Then, looking hard at the limp Maheal. he waited until the fellow was again conscious before resuming his reading.
'. . sentence will be carried out instantly and in any order Lord Fizziak determines best. However, should the condemned prisoners elect to show mettle and courage and accept the test, sentence is withheld until such time as they complete the trial. Royal Pardon will be bestowed upon all who accept said test and meet death or succeed. Failure in the completion of the test shall mean death — one way or the other.'
The grand count looked at each prisoner, then asked. 'Is it to be the axe or the test? You have one minute to decide.'
Gord and Chert took a step forward without hesitation, signaling their desire for the latter choice. Grumbling about apish barbarism, Pinkus followed. Maheal fell forward in another swoon, a gesture that Fizziak took as concurrence.
'That is that,' Lord Fizziak said with a shrug as he toed his nephew's body. 'Guards, see that these prisoners are taken to the Tower of Winds. Our Court Wizard Phompton and Good Priest Boffly will take charge of them there.' Without another word the grand count stumped back to his private room.
'Awaken!'
At the command, all four prisoners snapped alertly erect in the stiff wooden chairs in which they had slumped moments before. A wizard with bushy, black brows and an even bushier beard was peering at them with his startlingfy blue eyes. Beside the magic-user stood Good, Priest Boffly. smiling benignry upon the quartet.
'You are now charged and properly directed upon your test.' the cleric said with a smile. 'And my blessing is upon you all,' he added.
'What Boffly here means,' the Court Wizard of Fizziak said in a gravelly voice, 'is that you have been geased, enthralled, and otherwise tampered with to assure that you'll either see the mission through or die in the trying. If you so much as turn aside you'll be stricken with pain, a burning itch, and far worse if you attempt to deviate further!'
'But what is the test?' Gord demanded. 'Nobody's bothered to tell us!'
'Oh no, my son,' the Good Prtest Boffly said with a tone of hurt fatherliness in his voice. 'We have taken great pains to instruct each of you in all matters pertaining to the test. You will recall them as time and circumstances demand.'
Bristling beard thrust forth, the Wizard of Fizziak interjected, 'What Boffly means is that you'll know what you need to know when you have need to know it — and not a moment sooner! We don't want you wandering about spilling everything in the meantime, so we have used various forms of dweomercraefting and priestly spell-tinkering to lock the knowledge safety away until proper events trigger it forth.'
'Unkindly put,' the priest said with a long-suffering look upon his benign countenance, 'but quite true, nonetheless. By means of my inspired powers and a bit of help from the arcane craft that Wizard Phompton here manages tolerably well, you are safely directed and protected. Go about your test with the blessing of St. Trowbane upon your undeserving heads!'
As the wizard scowled at Boffly, and the cleric returned the glare with mild triumph expressed on his features, Gord, Chert, Pinkus and Maheal looked at each other blankly. It was immediately apparent that none of them had the faintest idea what they were supposed to do next. Before any of them could say so, however, the wizard saw their confusion.
'There, Boffly, is another sign of your incompetence! You failed to give the initial command, see?' Phompton stood with long arms folded in hauteur, stressing his point. Somewhat deflated. Good Priest Boffly allowed a tiny frown to cross his mild countenance. This was instantly replaced by a cheerfulsmile and with a wave of dismissal he said, 'Good boys! Go get 'em!'
Resisting the urge to let his tongue hang out of his mouth, Gord turned obediently and headed for the door. The others were following without question. Each of the four knew that they were leaving Castle Fizziak and heading north. There was little else to worry about.
'Coercion of this sort is ignoble!' Maheal said as he scratched vigorously at various parts of his body. As this particular scene had been repeated several times previously, everyone else paid no heed whatsoever to the complaining and rode on in silence. This didn't deter the young nobleman a jot. He kicked his mount to hasten its pace and came alongside the huge horse ridden by the ehjure.
'I say, Pinkus! You have magical powers, I'm sure of it. Do something to remove this blasted compulsion and the base effects of disobeying it!'
The eight-foot-plus ogre looked down his pug nose at Lord Maheal in a manner which the most vain dandies would have been proud to ape. 'Get away from me, minimus, or else I'll boot your ass clean over your palfrey's head.' As he said this, he swung one leg free of its stirrup and made threatening motions with it.
'Savage!' Maheal cried as he quickly got out of the way. 'You must be addlepated, the lot of you! From the way you're all acting, one would suppose you were eager to enter this dismal wilderness and meet a coven of warlocks and witches!'
After getting well clear of the grand count's massive stronghold and the attendant settlements, the four had known suddenly that their course was not northward at all. Maheal had exaggerated when he claimed to dwell in Rel Mord. Fizziak lands bordered Relmor Bay on the south and ran northward about a hundred miles. This was a place quite removed from the capital of Nyrond. And the test was to take place elsewhere — specifically, about forty leagues to the west. They were to cross the Duntide River and enter the Gnatmarsh area. Fortunately, they had been allowed to take all of their possessions when they left — all except Gord's and Chert's fortune in jewels, of course. Weapons, provisions, and horses they had aplenty. Even the reluctant Maheal was bristling with an array of weapons. It was probable the szek would have trouble finding the pointy end of his sword, but that was another matter entirely.
That they had been carefully instructed through mental messages hidden magically and triggered automatically by certain predetermined events was certain. So too was the power of the dweomer that forced compliance with the test if any of their numbers chose not to heed the mental promptings. Pinkus had. in fact, attempted to leave the group and head off on his own. Gord and Chert just ignored the defection, not caring much for the company of the ogre-magus anyway. Pinkus had returned in an hour, groaning from stomach cramps, complaining of a burning rash, and having trouble uncrossing his goggling eyes. Neither Gord nor Chert had considered swerving from the terms of the so-called test. Far more weighty than possible' consequences of the sort the ogreling was suffering was the fact that Lord Fizziak held their wealth!
Both of the young adventurers had guffawed at the sight presented by the errant ogre-magus as he returned. It was made funnier still by anticipation, since the desertion of Pinkus had prompted Maheal to do the same. No sooner had the ogre-magus been out of sight than the Nyrondel nobleman had airily waved a cerise-gloved hand at the two adventurers and said. 'Well, so much for all this nonsense — I'm off for Dohou-Yohpe. The grand count will forgive me after a time. Imagine — sending his own flesh and blood off on such a dangerous missionl'
Chert had only stared in distaste at Maheal, but Gord tried to reason with him. 'Remember what Good Priest Boffly told us. If you try to shirk your duty, there'll be unpleasant consequences!'
'Nonsense! I am a Peer of the Realm, and no one would dare to inflict such ills upon my noble person!' So saying. Maheal had reined his steed around and galloped off to the northeast.
It was only minutes after Pinkus came back that they heard the sound of another horse approaching. There was Maheal, all right, reeling in his saddle and crying out piteously. At first Gord and Chert laughed, but then they could not help but feel compassion. They helped the feebly moving noble from his mount and laid him carefully down. To have lasted as long as the ogreling under the pangs of enthrallment and geas brought new respect for Maheal in the hearts of both humans. Later, the Nyrondel told them he had passed out from the pain. That, and his combination of whining and continued attempts to break the dweomer sent all high regard from them. It was clear that the young noble was a fool, a coward, and a dolt. They were, however, stuck with him — and Pinkus as well.
'Is it the curse of that benighted artifact we stole from Nerull's temple?' Chert asked crossly, accusation
