Quag Keep Read Online Free PDF Page B

uniting—”
    Naile snorted. “All this your wizardry has made plain to you, has it? So we should sit and listen to this—”
    Hystaspes stared at him. “Who are you?” His voice boomed as it had earlier through the smoke. “Give me your name!” That command carried the crack of an order spoken by one who was entirely sure of himself.
    The berserker’s face flushed. “I am—” he began hotly and then hesitated as if in that very moment some bemusementconfused him. “I am Naile Fangtooth.” Now a little of the force was lost from his deep voice.
    â€œThis is the city of Greyhawk,” went on the wizard, an almost merciless note in his voice. “Do you agree, Naile Fangtooth?”
    â€œYes.” The heavy body of the berserker shifted on his stool. That seat might suddenly become not the most comfortable perch in the world.
    â€œYet, as I have shown you—are you not someone else also? Have you no memories of a different place and time?”
    â€œYes . . .” Naile gave this second agreement with obvious reluctance.
    â€œTherefore you are faced with what seems to be two contrary truths. If you are Naile Fangtooth in Greyhawk—how can you also be this other man in another world? Because you are prisoner of
that
!”
    His other hand flashed out as he pointed to the bracelet on the berserker’s wrist.
    â€œYou, were-boar, fighter, are slave to that!’
    â€œYou say we are slaves,” Milo cut in as Naile growled and plucked fruitlessly at his bracelet. “In what manner and why?”
    â€œIn the manner of the game you chose to play,” Hystaspes answered him. “Those dice shall spin and their readings will control your movements—even as when you gamed. Your life, your death, your success, your failure, all shall be governed by their spin.”
    â€œBut in the game”—the cleric leaned forward a little, his gaze intent upon the wizard, as if to compel the complete attention of the other—“we throw the dice. Can we control these so firmly fixed?”
    Hystaspes nodded. “That is the first sensible question,” he commented. “They teach you a bit of logic in those dark, gloomy abbeys of yours, do they not, after all, priest? It is true you cannot strip those bits of metal from your wrists and throw their attachments, leaving to luck, or to your gods, whichever you believe favor you, the result. But you shall have a warning an instant or two before they spin. Then—well, then you must use your wits. Though how much of those you can summon”—he shot a glance at Naile that was anything but complimentary—“remains unknown. If you concentrate on the dice when they begin to spin, it is my belief that you will be able to change the score which will follow—though perhaps only by a fraction.”
    Milo glanced about the half-circle of his unsought companions in this unbelievable venture. Ingrge’s face was impassive, his eyes veiled. The elf stared down, as if he were not looking outward at all, at the hand resting on his knee, the bracelet just above that. Naile scowled blackly, still pulling at his band as if strength and will could loose it.
    Gulth had not moved and who could read any emotion on a face so alien to humankind? Yevele was not frowning, her gaze was centered thoughtfully on the wizard. She had raised one hand and was running the nail of her thumb along to trace the outline of her lower lip, a gesture Milo guessed she was not even aware she made. Her features were good, and the escaped tress of hair above her sun-browned forehead seemed to give her a kind of natural aliveness that stirred something in him, though this was certainly neither the time nor place to allow his attention to wander in that direction.
    The cleric had pinched his lips together. Now he shook his head a little, more in time, Milo decided, to his own thoughtsthan to what the