Sea of Death

Chapter 11

No Chepnoi would join the expedition into the desert — not after Gord told the mountain warriors that it would take them out of sight of the Grand-suels. That is death, Gray-Lion," said the Chepnoi hetman solemnly. "Even if one stays close to the safety of the mountains, a storm can bury you alive in minutes. To trek out of sight of the peaks is to invite death in many ways, but surely from being smothered by ash — never a week passes without the wind blowing that powder into a scouring fury."

Achulka took the lead at this point and tried to shame his mountain-dwelling kinsmen. "You have stout silken covers and hollow poles for that. What is a little dust storm when one is safely burrowed beneath the very stuff you fear? We will find enough water, surely, and much treasure too! Old women and young boys might fear the dangers of the Ashen Desert, but are you not Chepnoi warriors?!"

"We will live to fight, thank you," the hetman replied laconically, not even taking the nomad's response as insulting. "All but crazed ones shun the interior of the Ashen Desert."

"Then we men of the Thuffi, plus Farzeel and his woman, are crazy," Achulka said with a sneer.

"Yes, you are," was all the Chepnoi chieftain said in reply. That was the end of the discussion.

The mountain folk would not go with them, but they did cooperate in other ways. For a price, they provided the travelers with provisions, gear that would help them negotiate the ash and dust, and they allowed Gord to make a copy of their sketchy map of the Ashen Desert, which vaguely marked out some of the land's major features and indicated the location of the City Out of Mind. Whether or not this latter aspect of the map — or any part of it — was accurate, Gord had no way of knowing. But he supposed the information was better than none at all.

Gord and Leda remained confident and determined despite the Chepnoi leader's negative words. However, the Thuffi nomads grew glum after hearing what the hetman had to say. Even though the prospect of wealth was a strong motivator, the warnings about deadly storms and lurking death from their mountain-dwelling kinsmen had severely dampened the enthusiasm of the five warriors. When Gord paid in silver for what they had obtained from the Chepnoi, the young adventurer took the opportunity to hand each of the Al Illa-Thuffi several nobles, too — all he had remaining, in fact, with Achulka getting the odd extra silver piece. That brought cheerfulness from the steppe horsemen only for a brief period.

"Why not just loot the ruins off to the east?" Achulka suggested, indicating a spot marked on the map. "We know there is much wealth remaining in that place, there is only slight peril in the journey we must make to get there, and we can keep the mountains easily in sight for the whole distance."

"Those ruins must have been visited by many over the years — but the treasure is untouched where the two of us intend to go," Gord said in counter to that plan. He didn't know that for a fact, but he was quite willing to stretch the truth to keep Achulka and his men in the group, for now that the Chepnoi had given him a clear idea of what had to be faced, it seemed unlikely that he and Leda could succeed without the help of the nomads.

Achulka was in no mood to argue the issue. He shook his head, then sat tight-lipped with his arms folded across his chest. Gord tried taunting the Thuffi leader, just as Achulka had done earlier with the Chepnoi hetman. "If you five no longer desire such riches, and if you have decided that the Arro-den charms I would give you no longer have power, then perhaps you should stay safe at home with… those who are not daring."

Achulka lowered his gaze, remained silent, and was getting more sullen with every passing second. Clearly, the man would not be influenced by a tactic that had failed to work when he had tried it. Things looked bleak… and then Leda spoke up.

"In my mind," she said bitterly, "there is one kind of man lower than a coward, and that is a hypocrite. I listened to you cajole and insult the leader of these mountain people, which was fine. But now, by your inaction, you are proving yourself to be an empty shell — one from which words flow, but which contains nothing of substance. It is easy to talk about being courageous, isn't it, Achulka?"

That was all it took. Leda's scathing words, coupled with Achulka's attraction and admiration for her, turned his thinking around. The nomad leader lifted his head to meet her steely gaze, then turned for a brief, hushed conference with his cohorts. When he looked at her again, it was with a combination of respect and anger in his eyes. "I am glad I have never met any of your people, warrior-woman," Achulka said in a dry tone. "If your men fight as well as I suspect you do, and if their tongues are as pointed, then they are surely more fearsome than a band of Arroden warriors in the charge. We will come, and may the fates be kind to us all."

Gord was a bit taken aback by the whole affair. Using words the likes of which he had never before heard her utter, this beautiful and mysterious woman had accomplished something he could not do. Just what was this warrior-woman, anyway?

After several more days of traveling through mountain passes and then along the craggy fringe that bordered the Ashen Desert, the seven treasure-seekers bade farewell to the Chepnoi men who had accompanied them this far. As part of the bargain Gord had struck with his silver, the mountain tribesmen would care for their horses and gear for three months. By then, if they had not come back for their property, the whole would belong to the Chepnoi. It was a fair enough arrangement, under the circumstances. Gord hated to part with Windeater, but the powdery wastes were no place for horses, even the finest of stallions.

The travelers wore white tunics and robes, so that the heat of the desert would be reflected away from their bodies. They each carried their own provisions and other needed materials in large backpacks. They walked on strange, flat shoes made of woven-leather strips held fast in circular frames of tough wood. Each held a long, hollow pole with a little shoe at one end and a plug in the other. With the shoe end down, the pole could be used for support and balance while walking. By reversing it, the pole could be used to test the depth of the dust.

The shoes were large and strong and distributed the wearer's weight over a good-sized area. But the Chepnoi had warned the group about places where the powder was so fine that even their dust-walkers, as the wood and leather shoes were called, would prove insufficient to keep a man above the surface. To sink was to be smothered and dead within a minute or two, as the tiny abrasive particles would fill ears, mouth, and lungs immediately. By temporarily removing the shoe and the plug, each pole could be used as a breathing tube if someone found himself being covered. This tactic would only succeed if the user also had time to bind small pieces of finely woven silk over both ends of the pole to serve as filters. Even this would not assure survival, but any chance was better than none.

Each of them carried a cocoonlike tent — bulky, but light, and absolutely essential. The only way to survive in a serious storm on the Ashen Desert was to get below the surface, out of the wind. Otherwise the flying particles would tear cloth from body and flesh from bone, in as little as a few minutes. The proper procedure was to take off the dust-walkers, get oneself and one's equipment into the sack, and then hop up and down in the powdery stuff. This would cause one to sink, and as this occurred, the cloth was pulled higher and higher about the body. Once a person had worked himself down to below the surface, the pole-tube came into play — along with prayers that the storm would not pile up a dune of dust and ash that was higher than the tip of the breathing device.

The heat was terrific, and although he did not like the look of them at first, Gord was soon glad for the white garments that swathed him. The Chepnoi had directed Gord to take his group along a route that was not the shortest path to the City Out of Mind, but was in all likelihood the safest. Because of the rolling terrain of what was once the Suloise Empire, there were places where the dust was fairly thin on top of the old landscape — and others where it was so deep as to be immeasurable or even impassable. So Gord took their advice, which was to go east for a short time to begin with, keeping the mountains on their left shoulder until they became accustomed to moving on the dust and otherwise coping with the environment.

Gord saw evidence of life in the wasteland almost as soon as their trek had begun. Of conditions farther out, he was not sure. The evidence of strange plants and small life here at the edge of the desert, however, made him suspect that tales of the area's absolute desolation were not wholly accurate. Then, when they came upon an actual pool of water, his suspicion became a known fact.

Dark-leafed plants grew low around the place where the blackish water spilled forth and ran into the powdery ground to the south. Here and there, wherever some crack or fissure permitted, trees and other normal-looking sorts of vegetation thrust upward. "It is said that the leather-leaf palms have tasty fruit," one of the nomads remarked as he gathered up several handfuls of hard, wooden pods. "Soak these for an hour, and see what happens."

They all followed suit, and then set about getting a supply of water to replenish their stores. The pool was filled with tiny particles of dark ash suspended in the water. A cloth quickly filtered the stuff out, however, leaving clear, drinkable liquid. Even the unfiltered water was not harmful, but removing the particles gave them more room for liquid in their containers. Everyone was glad for a chance to pause in relative comfort and unstrap their dust-walkers, even if only for a short time. As they relaxed, Achulka gave Gord and Leda a summary of his tribe's lore concerning the flora of this place.

The low trees which grow near the place where the brook disappears are called deathvision trees," he began. "One leaf chewed will give strange and portentous dreams and visions. Two leaves can kill, and three are deadly always. The deep green plants which grow around the edges of this oasis we call fatleaves. Singe them, and they provide food, although it is waxy-tasting and will make you sick in the belly if you eat too many. There are hairs on the leaves which make the skin itch and burn, but flame removes them quickly — just be careful not to char the whole leaf."

There were various sorts of cacti, brushy growths, and varieties of other plants here as well. Living around and among the plants were several kinds of insects, little birds, lizards, and jumping mice. All were colored in tones to match the area, ranging from pale gray to sooty black. "There is plenty of life here, Achulka," Gord said, looking around. "What is the great danger in going on into the middle of this waste? Anyone wise to the ways of such arid places can survive easily."

"Not so, Farzeel. Directly to the south, beyond this rocky area, the dust deepens, and there are no waterholes such as this one. Storms and thirst can easily kill all who venture out there."

"Nonetheless, yon are going," Gord said, voicing this partly as praise and partly as a point of fact.

The nomad shrugged. "You and the warrior-woman seem capable and determined, and you might be lucky as well. The welfare of me and my men is now a matter of kismet-"

A shriek broke up the conversation. One of the Al Illa-Thuffi warriors had walked over to examine a striped-leafed bed of little plants that had silvery fruit dangling beneath their leaves. As he approached these shrubs, the ash beneath him had suddenly shifted, and he sunk as if in quicksand. His cry brought the others, but without their special shoes they had to step gingerly to avoid suffering the same fate, and by the time they got to the site, the nomad had disappeared into the stuff.

"Poor Hammadan! He should have been more careful," another of the nomads cried, sorrow written plainly on his swarthy features. "I have never before seen such a terrible thing. Let us not go on!"

This tragedy brought on another round of doubts from the nomads, countered by arguments from Gord and Leda. Eventually the four remaining men agreed to continue accompanying the pair, but it took more promises of gold and gems and much convincing besides. And, instead of turning south at this point, the nomads demanded that they continue eastward along the mountains' edge to a southern arm of crags and hills where, according to Gord's map, another pool could be found. When they ran up against this finger of rock that thrust into the Ashen Desert, then they would turn and head in that direction — but they would not go south until they had to.

Although the easterly route would take them away from the supposed location of the City Out of Mind, Gord rationalized that it made sense to follow the high ground for as long as possible. First and foremost, of course, the nomads would have it no other way. But also, they all would gain more experience in desert travel during the diversion, and before they headed away from the mountains they would be able to replenish their water supply. Perhaps most importantly, the terrain around the spur of rock seemed likely to provide a means of relatively easy access to the heart of the desert. From the information the Chepnoi had given him, the young adventurer thought that there would be hills running southward from this area. Recalling the advice of the mountain people, Gord had noted for himself that the dust and ash was indeed much like water. The powdery stuff flowed and ran, filling low regions and lying thinly on high ground. So, the six survivors trekked east.

"If I could, Gord, I would turn back now," Leda said quietly one night. "Even now that I am fairly used to it, walking on these platters is murder."

Gord put his arm around her shoulders. "You handle the dust-walkers better than I do, Leda," he said, "and you're as tough as the leather they're made of. Whatever reason you have to be here, you'll make it. Why, girl, even your skin has darkened and become like part of the dusky world we travel in."

Leda snuggled closer to him. "I know, Gord. Even with my body covered in this cloth, I am getting darker and darker. My dreams are getting more vivid each night, too. 1 think that soon I'll recall everything — and that frightens me more than anything." Then she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Will you be here with me when I need you?"

"Of course I will," Gord told the half-elven girl. He kissed her back, tenderly at first, and then with a hint of growing passion. He pulled his face slightly away from hers and met her eyes with his own as he continued, "For whatever reasons fate has decreed, you and I are following the same path. We'll be side by side when we enter the City Out of Mind," he assured her with all sincerity. "You and I are comrades, and friends too."

Then let's become lovers as well," Leda said, using her little hands to stroke the sides of his face and his shoulders as she brought her lips to his again in a lingering kiss. Soon passion ruled both of them, and they made love to each other for a long and wonderful time.

As they lay together afterward, Gord felt Leda's body shudder. Then the girl began to cry. "What's wrong, dearest love?" he said with deep concern. "If I have somehow-"

"Don't be foolish, Gord," Leda said. Then, forcing herself to stop sobbing, she tried to explain. "It is because of me that I weep! What am I to do? Each day something grows within me. I have terrible evil inside me — I feel it! I fight against it, but as little memories come back unbidden, the malign thing inside my head becomes more powerful too. You are all that is keeping me from becoming lost in the darkness of what lurks inside, Gord. Help me!"

The young man didn't know exactly what to say, but he tried to console her. "I see you every day, Leda, and you are no more wicked than any other person — human, elf, or whatever — would normally be. In fact, you are more generous and kind and brave than most I have known."

"But that is because I fight and fight to be that way. You see what is happening to me, Gord. You yourself commented on how my skin grows dark. I am a drow — or at least part dark elf, anyway. Who and what I am is still hidden, but there is badness inside — the evil of the worst of elvenkind and who knows what else besides."

Leda started to sob again, and Gord held her close. "You and I will fight it together," he said. "I have seen that you are good, so if there is other than that within, we will drive It away together so that the better can rule. I too have my malign side,

Leda, and it often tries to come to the fore. Sometimes the evil part of me succeeds, and then I must work especially hard thereafter to push it down and bind it. If this is happening within you, then it is something that can be dealt with. Love will help, too! It must be a part of your memory returning, the bad resurfacing before the good does."

"Yes, Gord," the half-elven girl said weakly. "Perhaps that is it. Please love me still, though, no matter what."

"You may count on me, love. My word on that." Leda calmed down at this point, and the two soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

The following days were filled with heat and danger, the nights with passion and reassurance. The party reached an area of low hills, some actually showing stony clay, with deep drifts of ash and dust between. They swung south, for the Grandsuel Peaks thrust down into the barren wastes ahead. The hills and powder-filled valleys between continued. By staying on hill and ridgetop, they made good time. Then they turned slightly to the east again, and in a half-day of hard trekking came to the second oasis. It was very much like the first one they had encountered, and it became apparent that the life forms that managed to exist along the edge of the desert were all pretty much the same.

That was one pattern, and Gord could see that the nomads were exhibiting another. Whenever they reached a waterhole, it seemed, their resolve to travel farther grew weaker. Gord observed a couple of the men pointing surreptitiously toward the east and witnessed a hushed conversation involving all four of them during the early part of their stay at the oasis. Later, Achulka approached Gord and Leda where they sat, trying to seem casual but failing to keep his self-consciousness from showing. "Shall we go on eastward now, Farzeel?" he asked in an artificially friendly tone. "The ruined city is but a few days' travel that way. Let us go there and return soon — sound, and rich men!"

Because of what he had seen and sensed, this sort of talk did not take Gord by surprise at all, and he was prepared for it — determined to exert his own influence fully this time and not let Leda carry the burden for him. "Achulka, you amaze me," he replied with obvious contempt. "I thought you were a warrior whose word was a bond. Instead, I hear the mutterings of an old man, lazy and afraid. One fit only to tend children and campfires should certainty turn away from man's undertakings. Go!"

This time, Gord's insults worked — ultimately. After a brief exchange of breast-beating, argument, and threats, all four of the Thuffi warriors agreed that they would continue on with Gord and Leda as planned, but as recompense Gord had to start giving over the Arroden bangles. If Gord did not believe that their apprehension was real, he would have accused the Thuffi of taking advantage of him. Achulka wore the first bracelet proudly. One more was to be handed over every other day, until each of the nomads had one. Gord would retain the necklace and the remaining pair of bracelets for the duration of their quest, the tribesmen receiving those items when the party returned to the Grandsuels.

With the matter resolved — at least for the moment, Gord said to himself pessimistically — the group headed south instead of east. On the second day afterward they ran into a terrible dust storm, and only their being in the rocky terrain of the worn hills saved them from its full fury. In fact, they didn't even have to resort to using the tent-bags and breathing poles, for there was sufficient shelter to be found behind the stony ridges they traveled across. The hills disappeared four days later, and the band was reduced to shuffling across the dusty terrain on their webbed shoes once again.

At this juncture, Gord turned the group southwest. They traveled in a line abreast, each member of the party about a hundred yards away from the next. This way it was hoped they would be able to spot any sign of water. They had at least another week of water still, if it was carefully rationed, but very soon the risk of thirst would become serious.

Leda discovered the ruins. She was on the far right of the line and thought at first that she had come across a natural stone outcropping that could mean water a short distance beneath the surface. She called out and waved, and one by one all of them lumbered over to see what she had discovered. They carefully dug away the ash and dust from around the up thrusting stone, and it soon became apparent that the stone was not a natural formation. What they found were broken towers and the remains of walls.

The nomads were excited. "Dig deeper!" one of them said. "We must search here for treasure!" exclaimed another.

Leda agreed that they should search the area, but for a different reason. "Gord, there could have been no city here unless there was a supply of water to support its citizens. Let us see if we can get into this building below us and try to locate a spring or an old cistern," she suggested.

Gord consented to this, and the six of them renewed their efforts to dig away the dusty covering. In a certain spot, just three feet beneath the ash and powder, was a solid surface that turned out to be an intact roof. When they had cleared away a fair portion of this area, Gord noticed a rectangle of wood that was separate from the rest of the roof. He pried at the seam with his dagger and discovered it to be the edge of a hatch. Two of the nomads laid hands on the side opposite the hinge and lifted. A moment later, the hatch came open with a creak, causing a bit of ash and dust to cascade down into a three-foot-square hole that opened the way to the darkness below.

It was not hard for Gord to hang on the edge of the hole and drop to the floor below. He was a little nervous about the wooden planks being rotten and giving way when he struck the surface about twenty feet beneath the roof, but he managed the incursion with no problem. The rest could have used a rope to climb down, but Gord found a ladder nearby, its wood perfectly preserved in the arid place. Soon Leda, Achulka,' and the other three nomad warriors were standing beside him. They left the hatch about halfway open, resting on the end of the ladder, so that shifting dust wouldn't bury the exitway and trap them Inside. They all took off their backpacks and set aside other nonessential equipment such as their poles and dust-walkers. Gord and the nomads kept their weapons, but Leda left her sword and bow with the rest of her gear.

There is a flight of steps descending over there," Gord said, pointing to a corner. "Shall we begin exploring?"

"How will we see in the dark?" Achulka asked.

Leda's elven vision and Gord's enchanted sight made the issue no problem for them, but the nomads had no such advantages. Once they were out of the slight illumination provided from above by the open hatch, they would not be able to function.

Gord glanced around the room and saw nothing suitable. "Wait here," he told Achulka. There must be some means of illumination within this place." Then he went below and returned a few minutes later with a pewter pricket and a rushlight. This thing is so old that the grease has become hard as wood," he told the four steppemen, "but it will shed enough light for you to see — at least until we can find some torch or lamp that will serve better."

They went down through five stories before getting to the ground floor. The charts and wall hangings he saw along the way led Gord to assume that the square tower had been used for stargazing and astrological calculations. All of the equipment and maps, books and scrolls, were stored in the floors beneath the upper level, dusty but otherwise intact.

The priests of this place must have left without commotion," Leda said as they walked through the great, echoing temple they found below. "It is good that they did, for otherwise the windows would have been unshuttered, and the weight of all the dust and ash from above would have filled this chamber with powder long before now."

Little ramps of dust had sifted in over the centuries through the seams around the windows, so that an inch of the stuff lay on the floor in most places. The sediment puffed up around their feet as they walked, but was undisturbed elsewhere. "Enough of the desert has entered," Gord observed, "to tell us none has been here for long years before us."

"This is perfect!" Achulka exclaimed. "Priests always extort money from the faithful, and those who were so careful to secure their place of worship before leaving it must have been exacting in their demands for wealth. Let's find the coffers of those clerics, for none can claim their gold but us now!"

"The treasury is certainly hidden below," Gord said. They all began searching for a means of going into the cellars, and a stairway was quickly located. Gord was thinking about water more than gems, but he didn't mention that to the nomads. Let them hunt for loot while he sought more precious stuff. "Come on, let's see what the ancients who ruled this place hid below," he said. "Leda and I will form one team, and you four split into two others. Call out as soon as you locate anything worthwhile."

After they began descending, Gord took Leda's arm and spoke to her sternly. "I did not want to bring this up in front of the others," he said, "but I noticed a short time ago that you are not armed, and I am dismayed that you saw fit to leave your weapons in the chamber above. What will you do if we run into a problem down here?"

"I am sure we will encounter no problem that you cannot solve," she said with a tender smile, trying to make light of the matter. When she saw that this response did not satisfy him, she frowned slightly and spoke further. "I can give no real reason, except that I simply wished to be free of the weapons for a while, because they cramp my movement and make me feel heavy. Also, something in my head tells me that I have weapons other than those that are held in the hand. I am not worried right now, dear, and I beg you not to worry either."

Gord didn't know exactly what to make of her cryptic remarks, but decided to let the issue pass. In truth, he did not feel that their lives would be endangered while they searched this abandoned place, so perhaps the whole thing was not worth thinking about. "As you say, my love," he told her. "Now, let us see what we can see."

Minutes later, Leda discovered a low tunnel that led to a downward-spiraling stair hewn from solid rock. "Look over here," she called. "This building is like a fortress, and such places always have their own source of water in case of siege. I think I've found it, for there is a damp smell rising."

Not bothering to call the others, Gord and the girl went down the narrow, slippery steps. They twisted and wound into the ground about thirty or forty feet, then opened into a place whose ceiling indicated that at least a portion of it was a natural cave. Marks on the walls showed that at one time water had filled it about halfway, a depth of seven or eight feet. But now the water was gone, and the floor was covered with nothing but dried mud.

"Damn it, the conditions above must have dried out the source of supply," Gord muttered.

"No, Gord, look yonder. There seems to be a dark patch over there, as if there is wet mud on the floor, and there is an opening in the wall just at the place where the floor meets it. Let's look more closely." They walked across the chamber to the place she had indicated.

"Wet is right, you sharp-eyed vixen!" Gord said, giving the silvery-haired girl a pat on her round little bottom as he said it. Crouched on his hands and knees, the young adventurer peered down the narrow passage that had allowed the water to escape. "Not only mud, lass, but a big pool of fresh water beyond! I can smell it and hear drops hitting the sur- Ouch!" Gord whirled around and raised himself to a kneeling position to find out what had struck him so sharply.

Take that, you molesting swine!" Leda had taken the choice opportunity offered to revenge herself for his earlier attack on her posterior.

"You drow are creatures of great evil," he laughed, trying to grab and kiss her. Leda backed away with an expression of anger on her face.

"One day you might learn the truth of that, you pale pig! Until then, don't joke about dark elves."

Gord got to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders. "And you, Leda, remember that I am no one to trifle with, either!" he said, giving her a shake that rattled her teeth. "You will fight off the darkness which is trying to overwhelm you, or else I'll know the reason why. The woman I love is not about to transform to a demon before my eyes!"

Leda grabbed him and held on. Thank you, dear. I don't know what happened. But I feel fine now, so let's get the others and show them this pool."

"Hells, no! Let's you and I have a bath and enjoy ourselves first. Those barbarians will be busy for quite a time searching for loot, and we'd be crazy not to make use of the time that gives us."

Leda agreed readily, so it was much later when the two of them clambered back up the spiral steps to search for the four Al Illa-Thuffi nomads.

Finding them wasn't very difficult. The tracks in the everpresent thin layer of powder went here and there but eventually joined up in one passageway. Gord and Leda came to a partially open door with light leaking out from the other side of it. Indeed, the four warriors were in the room beyond. The one called Nizamee was lying on the ground in the center of the chamber, stroking a dark red, swollen hand and groaning weakly. The others were farther from the door, facing their comrade but standing motionless — seemingly entranced — before several huge stone chests.

"What is going on here?" said Gord, confused and angry at the same time.

"I… I can help this one," Leda told him haltingly. "Go see what is wrong with the rest of them."

While Leda bent over Nizamee, Gord rushed to where the other three nomads stood like statues. One glance at what was in front of them told him what the problem was — overwhelming greed. They had managed to open the heavy lids of four of the stone boxes that stood in the center of the room. The young thief saw that each container held a fortune in precious stuff — coins, jewelry, uncut gems, ingots of metal. The tribesmen were obviously too taken with this find to pay attention to other things. His entrance with Leda had gone as unnoticed as the stricken condition of their brother Nizamee.

Gord stepped over to Achulka, grabbed him firmly by the shoulder, and shook him. "Your comrade is dying, and you stand gazing at treasure!" sneered Gord. "What sort of men are you?" He slapped the other man sharply across the face, and this seemed to bring Achulka out of his dazed condition.

"This is so much…" Achulka said, slowly shaking his head as if to clear it of cobwebs. Then his eyes seemed to clear, and his voice became agitated as he noticed Leda and Nizamee in front of him. "I remember… Nizamee! He was careless, and a sharp needle stuck his palm. But that is the last thing I remember before- "

"No worry now," Leda said. She was kneeling by the white-clad nomad, passing her fingers slowly over the injured hand and arm. The dark swelling had vanished, and the nomad seemed to be asleep. She looked up at the two men facing her, both wide-eyed in amazement, and explained. "As I realized he had been poisoned, something seemed to snap inside me, and a flood washed over my brain. I recalled that I could use spells, so I knelt down, thought hard, and remembered the one which alters toxins to harmless waste within the bloodstream or body. As you brought Achulka from his fascinated daze, Gord, I worked my spell upon Nizamee — just in time. He sleeps now, for a bit, and he will feel bad when he wakes, but he will live."

"You see what your stupid greed has almost done?" Gord scolded the nomad.

Leda interceded for Achulka. "Don't blame him entirely, Gord. The stupor he was in — which his two fellows are still under, if you'll bother to look — is induced by a dweomer placed here as a part of the guards and wards of the treasure room. Think you that such a place as this would not be most well protected?" she asked the young adventurer with a hint of acid in her tone.

"Yes, you're right, Leda dear. Sorry, Achulka. Bring your comrades out of their transfixed state, and let's see what is to be done about all this. Excuse me, but I need to speak privately with Leda for a moment."

Taking her by the arm, Gord steered the dark elven girl from the treasury into the corridor outside. "What sort of spell ability have you?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Clerical, Gord. I have spells of the sort common to drow women — females, more properly. I guess I am becoming a typical dark elven female."

"No, not typical! You are Leda. You are special, and you are my love! If you are a priestess of some sort, what deity do you call upon?"

At that she shrugged. "I have no recollection of that, and nothing to give me any clue — not even a symbol of any sort. The spell-working I just performed came to mind as naturally as any thought, so there is no hint there either."

"As I recall, Leda, clerics are able to bring water forth from the air, so to speak. Am I right?"

"Hmmm, let me concentrate a moment." There was a pause, and then the beautiful dark elf maiden smiled at him and said, "I can, Gord, and that I know for certain! Now we have no more problems in our quest!"

The two stepped back inside the chamber. Without even really thinking about it, Gord pushed the heavy wooden door until it was only open an inch or two — a habit picked up during his days of thievery. He and Leda stood casually a few feet away from the doorway. The nomads were now lively and alert, except for the comatose Nizamee. The three who were able were busily sorting through the vast array of treasure, selecting and storing away in their packs the choicest items. Gord and Leda both laughed at the sight of the scene, and the warriors stopped their looting and turned sheepish faces toward the two.

"No need to stop that on our account," Gord said with a chuckle. "No matter how much the three of you stuff away, there's more here than ten times our number could manage. Help yourselves!" Leda walked over to where she could get a better look at the haul, and Gord enjoyed seeing her eyes widen as she viewed the contents of the coffers.

There were big, golden coins, thick wheels of yellow metal that bore the head of a haughty-faced man on one side and a sun on the other. Only a few of the coins were silver, dark with tarnish from the years they had lain undisturbed in the long-lost treasury of this unknown temple. With all of this were faceted gems, uncut stones, pearls, amber, ivory, and coral. There were strings of gems, wrought jewelry, and more. All of these riches held Leda's attention for a few moments. Then she picked up an ivory scroll case, casually pulled out its contents, and spent the next several minutes apparently studying what was written on the parchment. Gord wondered what she was doing, but didn't bother to ask. The nomads paid her no heed whatsoever, preoccupied as they were with picking out the choicest of the valuable items.

"When you have all you can reasonably carry — and remember that we have a long way to go yet — I'll show you where we can replenish our water," Gord said to the nomads. "We'll rest here until tomorrow, and then we head out again for the City Out of Mind."

Achulka listened to whispered words from the two warriors who demanded his attention. Then he turned to Gord. "My brothers say there is no need to go farther, Farzeel. They say that here is all anyone could ever want — and I agree," he said. "We will head back for the mountains tomorrow. Come with us, and you will be made the chief of our tribe! Not one of the Thuffi would deny you such honor."

"You pledged your service," Gord said slowly, without apparent anger.

"Yes, but we have agreed to give back the Arro-den charms, and we do so now." With these words, he and his fellows stripped off the bracelets and laid them on top of the treasure piles they had been sorting through. "You may take Nizamee's too, of course, and now we are even."

Leda gave a sarcastic little laugh at the easy manner in which the nomads disregarded their sworn bargain, and began to berate the men. Gord turned disgustedly away from Achulka and took a couple of paces toward the doorway. He intended to assume a barricading position and then tell the nomads that if they didn't live up to their word, they would have to fight him here and now. Suddenly, he heard a faint shuffling sound coming from the corridor. He whirled, made a short hissing noise to quiet everyone else, and then gestured to indicate that he thought someone or something was outside. As he drew his dagger and shortsword, the nomads took out their swords, and the three of them moved to a position where they could shield their fallen comrade from further harm.

Gord motioned for Leda to take Nizamee's sword for her protection, but she shook her head and said in a near-whisper, "He will need it, should he awaken. I have… other ways of defending myself." Gord was not about to waste precious time arguing about it. Wordlessly he directed her to move toward a far corner, and as she complied he took up a position beside the doorway. The shuffling got louder and closer for a few seconds, until it was apparent that the noise was coming from right outside the door. Then the sound ceased altogether for the space of two heartbeats — and all of a sudden the heavy portal flew inward with a resounding crash.