III

 

I woke up late in the afternoon. I was lying in Mrs. Rhona's bed. She herself wasn't home. My whole body was throbbing with intense pain. Every movement, even the slightest, made me want to howl. Still, I had to admit that Mrs. Altersberg had done a fantastic job. My wounds had stopped bleeding. I was weak, but more or less unharmed. I remembered the ring. My belongings were nowhere to be found. Panic gripped me. Had the woman gone to return the ring? I dragged myself out of bed. I limped to the kitchen and looked out the window. She was standing in the street, talking to a woman. She held a shopping basket in her hand. I calmed down a bit. I carefully lowered myself onto the stool. I thought of poor Woodpecker, probably grieving in the darkness of the oval chamber. An idea occurred to me. I couldn't trust the man who'd forced me to break into the royal treasury. Meanwhile, the lock on the door creaked, and Lady Rhona appeared on the threshold.

"Gods!" she exclaimed. "I've barely managed to mend him, and he's already crawling.

Get back to bed immediately, or the stitches will come undone!

" She took me by the good arm and, despite my protests, practically carried me back to bed. "The whole city is seething over your stunt. The guards are turning everything upside down." At the market, I met Lady FLOBBER, who had overheard the alderman's conversation with the priest of the harvest goddess UEVALL. She said Theft, until he was red with rage and concern. First, someone stole a book from him, and now you've stolen this ring. That really worried him. Apparently, the sorceress QUANTHALLA is also interested in him! Oh, you've weighed the beer, boy, you have." She frowned and looked at me thoughtfully.

"A clever woman!" I thought. This made more sense. From this dwarven woman's perspective, many people were indeed interested in this jewel. To De Renox, this ring was just as important, if not more, than to them. I was convinced of that. The young boy's life was in my hands; I wasn't going to let him down, and the fact that I had the ring for now reassured me. Because De Renox wouldn't kill Woodpecker until he had the ring in his hand. I had to act. I decided to exchange the jewel for the boy, but on my terms.

Mrs. Altersberg read it in my face, because she said, "You seem to have the same idea as me. If it weren't for your friend's life, we could have made a good bargain." She nodded. The vein her race is known for resonated within her. Besides gems, for dwarves, trading was music to a bard's ears.

"Ah! I just remembered something else." She maintained her expert

banker's expression.

"A mysterious knight came to town, looking for your

Walter de something. He was asking people about the whole mess. He had a white lily embroidered on his black cape. I'd never heard of such a sign. It's an interesting case, indeed.

One more, I thought. As if that weren't enough. I had to hurry. I asked Mrs. Rhona to return the ring. She insisted on exchanging it at the shop run by her Hagenfeld family. Moreover, the shop was located in the old, dwarven-populated district of Walden, in the north of the city, not far from the port. I could count on Mrs. Altersberg's influence there. Although I must admit, I wasn't pleased with dragging a woman into this dangerous matter. I told her of my concerns.

"Boy, you're too weak to handle this challenge alone." You'll see that

dwarves can be very helpful in a confrontation with De Ronex's thugs.

Well, she was right. I was so weak I could barely walk, and even in full health, I stood no chance against two bald men. That evening, we headed through the darker streets to the Hagenfelds' shop.

The old dwarf, the head of the family, Mr. Norman Hagensfeld, applauded with joy at the news of the opportunity to recall the old days, when he and his friends had traveled the lands in search of adventure.

"My hands are itching at the thought of a fight. And even if there isn't one, it will still be nice to hold an axe in my hand again."

He called to the eldest of his sons to pull his axe from the chest in the basement. "Axe, a nice axe. A large, heavy axe. Bigger than me." The dwarf caught it halfway through and expertly turned the wheel. His ruddy face had become rejuvenated; if it weren't for his long gray beard, I would have thought he was twenty years younger. His older son, Gerald, also brought a large club for himself, which he now weighed in his hand.

Mrs. Altersberg didn't fill them in on the whole story. She only said we needed their support in exchanging my friend for a certain item. Hagenfeld didn't ask any questions, simply saying, "Dear Rhona, for the sake of your husband's memory, I won't go into the details of this story. Clearly, you must have compelling reasons not to reveal more than necessary. You can count on me."

He also instructed Gerald to bring three neighbors, who had appeared in slightly too tight chainmail shirts, carrying axes similar to his own.

He sent his younger son, Arnold, with a letter we had written to the "Colorful Orchard." He was to return it to the owner and ensure that he promptly delivered it to De Renox.

The six of us waited in the shop. Hagensfeld's wife, Gabriella, brought delicious tea, which we sipped in silence. Hagensfeld recalled his adventures from a quarter of a century ago, absentmindedly stroking the blade of his axe.

After an hour, the young dwarf returned, breathing heavily. He said De Renox had gone mad because his shouts had been heard coming from the upstairs of the guesthouse. At any moment, we could expect De Renox to be rude, and perhaps even himself, as we had requested in the letter that they bring Woodpecker with them. The old dwarf took the bag with the ring from me and gave it to his younger son.

"Take this, and if anything goes wrong, you will run to..." he looked at me and Mrs. Altersberg, and Mrs. Rhona finished for him. "...you will take this to Theft at the harvest temple. You will tell him everything you see and hear here."

The boy disappeared through the door connecting the shop with the Hagenfelds' apartment. The shop itself, which sold practically everything from ointments for lice and herbal spices to goose feathers for scribes and the dyed leathers used by tailors for making clothes, was a square room that could accommodate upwards of fifteen people. Clay jars, pots, and carafes lined the shelves along the wall. Rolls of colorful fabrics hung from wooden hangers. As I learned from Hagensfeld, business wasn't doing well; there was barely enough for current needs.

On the street, I could hear approaching horsemen. So Hagensfeld had everyone scattered. Neighbors stood at the door, his son Gerald against the wall opposite the shop counter, behind which I stood with Mrs. Altersberg. Hagensfeld himself stood slightly behind his neighbors.

The door opened. First, two tough guys entered; I noticed that only one of them was the bald man I knew. The second, equally broad-shouldered but completely unlike the bald man, cast a menacing glance around. Behind them entered De Renox, wearing a flowing black robe embroidered with red patterns. In his hand he held a staff covered in hieroglyphics.

"Oh! What do we have here? A meeting of the Housewives' Circle and aging

dwarven fatties. Why, you admire the craftsmanship of ancient blacksmiths and their rusty axes," he whispered sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes at me, which glinted ominously. "You broke the terms of the agreement, gnome.

I see you have a loose tongue. Be sure you'll regret your talkativeness.

" "We can still strike a deal. I trust you're still interested

in the Exchange," Mrs. Altersberg said. "A jewel for a young Woodpecker. Many people are interested in this matter. The methods you employ, sir, offer no guarantee of honesty." Order your thugs to free the prisoner and you will get what you came here for.

"Fools! Do you think you can bargain with me? Your ridiculous weapons pose no threat to me. When I want, each of you will be like a helpless calf. I can make you jump at each other's throats. Nevertheless, I agree. Time is pressing, and in this lies your happiness. Give me the ring and you may save your lives.

" "You play hardball, sir, but that ring may fall into other hands that

will gladly take care of it." Old Hagensfeld leaned on his axe.

"We don't want bloodshed here. Agree to our terms and you will leave with

your ring. Otherwise, we will give it..." he thought for a moment, "...for example, to the priest of Uevall, or the sorceress Quanthalla."

De Ronex's face turned purple. His lips twisted in a hateful grimace. "You will answer for your audacity, especially you, gnome," he threatened, and I felt a chill. "But agreed." He composed himself and turned to the bald bandit. "Koil, order the prisoner brought to you. And as for you," he looked at me again, "you're only alive because I have a weakness for such worthless creatures as you, and time is pressing."

Two more thugs entered, leading a terrified woodpecker. His face was haggard and dirty, squinting against the light. Though haggard, he seemed unharmed.

"Here is your friend. Unharmed. Show us the ring!

" "Sir, you take us for fools. The ring is in a safe place;

you will receive it immediately if you release the boy.

" "My patience is running out, dwarf! Do you think I'll fall

for such a trick? Show me the ring or you die! No arguments!"

Koil drew the same dagger he'd threatened me with and placed it against the terrified Woodpecker's neck. Seeing this, Hagensfeld gave a signal, and the younger son entered the shop. He pulled a ring from a pouch. De Renox's eyes glittered with lust. His three companions exchanged knowing glances. Before young Arnold could return the ring to its pouch, De Renox vanished and reappeared at his side. He snatched the ring from the stunned boy and howled triumphantly.

"A sorcerer!" screamed Mrs. Altersberg.

"Indeed, my lady! Lord Xenor of Ashtaria. I cannot

afford to let you wretches live. Die!"

He made a gesture with his hand, and two of Mr. Hagensfeld's armed neighbors fell backward lifelessly against the wall. A fight ensued. The old dwarf swung his axe around. Two of the thugs furiously attacked him. Another charged at Gerald. Two more thugs ran inside, pressing against Mrs. Altersberg and me. Mrs. Rhona fended off the attacks with a frying pan, while I defended myself with the stick I'd been leaning on earlier. The sorcerer, meanwhile, was at the door again, preparing to cast another spell. His staff glowed with an unnatural light.

Suddenly, a black-robed man burst through the window and charged at the surprised thugs attacking old Hagensfeld. He swung his sword around, swinging it rapidly, its blade glowing silver. The sorcerer, also surprised, stared for a moment at the black figure of the knight, whose cloak bore a silver lily.

"You! You again!" "But you arrive too late.

I have what I came for. You can't stop the forces that awaken from their slumber!"

Another man entered. It was the priest Theft, his sword drawn, which he swung at the sorcerer. At the sight of him, the sorcerer whispered a word I didn't understand and vanished before the priest could land a blow. Faced with unexpected relief, we launched a counterattack. However, it quickly became clear that De Renox's thugs, alias Xenor of Ashtaria, weren't about to sell their hides cheaply and knew their craft. Hagensfeld's son learned this the hard way when a bald man named Rinad nearly severed his arm. Increasingly weak, I sank to the ground. I crawled over to Woodpecker, crouched in the corner, who was watching the whole thing with wide eyes.

The black warrior fought with magnificent grace, dodging the attackers' blows and delivering lightning-fast sword slashes. He took on three opponents. Three fought Theft, who was rescued by Mrs. Rhona and Old Hagensfeld. One of the thugs fell backward with a split skull, knocking over a shelf of clay pots. Hagensfeld's younger son fired a slingshot at the bald man, hitting him in the head. The knight capitalized on this, delivering a fatal blow to the stomach. The other, retreating toward the door, still confidently shielded himself from the attacks of the silver blade. Hagensfeld's axe rose and fell. One of the fighting thugs struck the priest in the side. He staggered, dropping his broadsword and falling double. Seeing this as their opportunity, the bandits huddled tightly, forcing their way to the exit. Hagensfeld's axe wasn't a very handy weapon in the cramped room, so he and Mrs. Rhona retreated outside. There, the fight raged in earnest. The sorcerer's outnumbered mercenaries split up. Two attacked the knight in black, two attacked Hagensfeld, and Mrs. Altersberg. However, now with more room to maneuver, Hagensfeld made use of his weapon. He howled loudly and struck with crushing force. His cry alerted the other dwarves, who ran from their homes to join the fighting. Mrs. Altersberg no longer participated in the fight, as an accidental blow had wounded her shoulder. Dropping a frying pan, she cursed the bandits. Seeing the dwarves' growing advantage, they again formed backs to back and began to fight with redoubled determination. Four against seven. Four against six, because one of the dwarves had fallen with a headshot, hacked and stabbed each other. The fight was doomed. Under the weight of dwarven axes, the sword of one of the bandits shattered, and he fell a moment later in a pool of blood. The remaining three continued to fight, but now more desperately. Another, kicked and struck simultaneously by a knight, fell with a strangled cry.

"Give up the fight and you will live!" the knight shouted.

"I would rather die than be captured! The warriors of Pretoria fear no death," Koil hissed. Madness flashed in his eyes. Everyone knew

the tales of the warriors of Pretoria, trained from childhood in the far south. They blindly served their goddess, willing to die for the promise of ultimate victory, in which they fanatically believed.

"Rewarded will be those who fight and give their lives. For this world

belongs to me and I to it. And all creatures will bow to my will. I am the goddess of vengeance, Pretoria, and victory belongs to me. Eternal glory to the warriors of Pretoria, who will return and dance on the mounds of their enemies."

With these words, they fell under the onslaught of the dwarves and the black warrior. I felt relief, and looked at Woodpecker, who had regained his voice. "I think I'll return west to Vinygr. I'm not cut out to be a thief."