Dhaelhy beamed as a storm of wild jubilation swept through the crowd and filled the hall with such noise that even the most strenuous beating of the mace-butt on the drum boards could not be heard above the din. A magic- user in the back took the opportunity to cause an illusion of appropriate nature to appear. A line of chained hobgoblins clanked through the suddenly opened doors of the chamber. Each carried the head of a human on a golden platter, and each bloody head was crowned with a horned coronet. This file of captives and grisly trophies was guarded by huge soldiers in black armor, armed with halberds and wearing the blazon of Stoink-a white field embellished with an azure bend, and a golden spear superimposed over all. As this procession entered, heralds blew silver trumpets likewise decorated with armorial bearings. The throng quieted as everyone turned to watch the spectacle. The audience applauded when the hobgoblin captives hurled the heads down at the table before the boss, and each gory pate dissolved into a shower of golden coins and raihbow-hued jewels. The mace drummed again, the illusion vanished, and the onlookers were again silent.
“There is just a little more, dear peers and subjects. I did not accomplish this all alone. Faithful men served to assist, and we are here not only to celebrate my triumph, but to share with these subjects Our glory and accomplishment!” Subdued remarks as to the generosity and magnanimity of the Boss accompanied the applause that followed this remark.
“The Honored Guests of the revel are here, near me. I present them to you all: Gellor, a magsman of Our Thieves’ Guild, and his associate, Gord, a freesword late of Leukish and likewise a member of Our Guild. It is Our decision that each be given honor hereafter as Deputy Bailiffs and Subalterns of the Constabulary Guard!”
There was polite applause and a few raised eyebrows at this, for the boss never gave out such positions unless something big had been done by the recipients. Deputy Bailiff status literally meant a license to steal, and that office, as well as that of the Guard, bore remuneration that even after payoffs and kickbacks would amount to five or six luckies a month-for no work. The pair now standing and inclining their heads bore watching by each of the assembled officials, either as potential rivals or possible climbers whose friendship could be useful. Then His Authoritative Lordship signaled for the festivities to continue, and the revelers were soon engaged in eating, drinking, and conversation once again.
Gord was seated next to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and all of his attention was on her. Evaleigh was her name, Lady Evaleigh. Her hair of pale platinum and her violet eyes bespoke elvish blood-perhaps from a grandparent or great-grandparent. Gord could not guess which and anyway cared for nothing save the result.
Evaleigh was gowned in velvet of the same color as her eyes, and the low bodice of the dress revealed the perfect symmetry of her creamy breasts. Gord found himself staring at the single amethyst nestled between these hemispheres and wishing he were that pendant. When she turned to speak with him, her long tresses, bound by a fillet of thin gold, rippled as silk stirred by a soft breeze. It was difficult for Gord to understand what she said because her full mouth and soft lips fascinated his eyes to such an extent that his audial senses seemed out of touch with his brain.
The young woman’s face was somewhat drawn, however, and Gord saw great sadness behind the beauty of her eyes. Evaleigh demonstrated no particular enjoyment of the banquet celebration, no happiness in being at the boss’ head table, no pleasure at the flirtation and compliments from the officials and influential men who sought her attention. Gord wanted to be alone with her, and he finally decided give voice to his thoughts, in the hope that he could improve her disposition-and give himself some pleasure, too-by taking her away from the table.
“May I ask Your Ladyship to stroll in the park gardens?” he said, a bit nervously in spite of himself.
“You must ask Lordship Dhaelhy, for I am his charge, and unless I have his permission I can go nowhere,” she replied with a faint smile.
Did her flute-like voice offer hope, or discouragement? Gord was uncertain, but he determined to play it out. “Thank you, Lady Evaleigh, for your intelligence. Pardon me that I knew not you were the ward of His Authoritative Lordship, Boss Dhaelhy. I am new to the town, you know. I shall ask permission at once.”
Although they were being honored, Gellor and Gord were not seated next to the potentate of the city state, but rather two and three places respectively from him. Seeing that the great lord was engrossed in discussion with a rat-faced man to his left, Gord signaled a varlet behind his chair to come to Gord’s place. The surly man, dressed in a soiled tabard that identified him as one of the lord mayor’s staff, came over slowly, but Gord did not berate him for insolence. Instead, he slipped a common into the fellow’s hand and whispered instructions in his ear. The servant grinned, nodded, and went back to his station.
A minute later, the fellow managed to slide into a pause in his master’s conversation and murmur Gord’s request. Boss Dhaelhy turned and met Gord’s eyes. He was smiling broadly, but Gord read hard assessment in the gaze. Then the varlet said something else in his master’s ear that made Lord Dhaelhy’s great jowls shake with laughter.
“Gentle Gord, Our new Subaltern, your request to accompany Lady Evaleigh on a stroll through the palace gardens is granted-on three conditions!”
Everyone else at the table turned to stare at Gord. Evidently, he had done something amiss, but he was not abashed. He responded quickly and firmly. “Your conditions, My Lord, are my orders.”
“Well said, lad! Here are Our con-orders, then. First, Her Ladyship must agree.” At this, everyone laughed, although Gord was sure that there was jealousy behind some of the mirthful expressions. “Second, you must guard her from all harm and return her to Us immediately after your exercise and fresh air are done. Third, and last, you must return her intact, for she is a virgin, and without her maidenhead, her value to Us plummets!”
At that, raucous sounds, ribald laughter, and rude jests filled the whole of the great hall. Gord, surprised at these statements, was slightly amused himself, until he saw Evaleigh’s blush of anger and humiliation. There was something here he must learn, and quickly, if he was to attain his most desired goal, the fair damsel’s heart-and attendant parts, of course!
“Thank you, Your Authoritative Lordship. Consider all to be as you command.”
Then Gord turned and smiled reassuringly at Evaleigh, saying as he did so, “I seem to be as much a butt of this cruel joke as you, lady. I humbly crave your pardon for unwittingly subjecting you to such discomfort. It is now my fervent wish that I had never asked, but since I have, and His Lordship of Stoink has generously given permission, I now ask again: Will you allow me to accompany you on a walk of the grounds? It is loud and hot in the hall.”
Evaleigh searched his face for a brief moment before responding. “I thank you, Sir, for your kindness, and I most readily accept.”
They were soon strolling through the gardens of the palace, alone save for a pair of guards following some distance behind and occasional sentries they encountered keeping their appointed rounds. Gord slowly toured the park with Evaleigh’s arm in his, keeping the conversation light and impersonal. She played her part too, commenting on the fragrance of the night-blooming flowers and shrubs and asking Gord small questions about himself. As they entered a grassy circle, Gord stopped and peered upward at the myriad stars and the two moons, the pale one shedding full beams upon them, the small blue one little more than a thin crescent, rising. His pausing so caused Evaleigh to do the same, and as both stood gazing at the heavens, their escort remained a considerable ways off, hidden in the deep shadows of the hedges.
Gord seized the opportunity. “My lady, what is it that troubles you so?” he asked.
“Captivity is a hard burden to bear, sir,” she replied with a tinge of hardness in her musical voice.
“Durance, lady, is vile indeed, but it is you who hold my heart captive!” he said, speaking softly but with sincerity. “Being a ward of the master of all around us is not captivity, but rather privilege!”
Evaleigh glared at him. “Take back those words, sir,” she said, “or I swear I shall have revenge for your taunting me so!”
This response nearly left Gord speechless. The vehemence of this wonderful woman was undeniable. He hastened to make amends. “Again, I am at a severe disadvantage, fair lady,” he said as graciously as he could. “Do not become angry at me for some ignorance on my part. Be generous and kind, I beg of you! Tell me the cause of your anger, the source of what discommodes you, and I shall pledge myself to serve to remedy all and make right what you view as wrong, even at the cost of my very life!”
Now it was Evaleigh who appeared taken aback. For a long moment she looked into the young man’s eyes, searching his countenance, contemplating. Then, at last, she spoke. “Gord, I may have misjudged you. Know you who I am?”
“Only, fair Evaleigh, that you are the most gorgeous woman ever to have walked our Oerth’s thus blessed
