The guard stared at his ruined spear. Trap also goggled at the splintered end of the wooden shaft and at Beglug, who happily chewed the metal point. The kender's sense of survival kicked in quicker than the guard's outrage.
Trap grabbed the little merchesti's arm and pulled him forward into the surge of humans pushing through the gate. Behind him, the kender heard the guard bawling to his companions. Trap, Halmarain, and Beglug melted into the crowd that crossed the bridge.
"I hope we don't have too much of that," Halmarain said between gasping breaths as she trotted after the kender.
"Gosh, did you see? He bit the spear in two." Trap said, skipping along to keep pace with the taller humans that surrounded them. "Traveling with Beglug will be really interesting. I wish we could have stayed to hear the guard explain what happened to his spear."
"I don't," the little mage replied. "Let's get ourselves lost-fast,"
They slowed their pace when the crowd thinned out on the other side of the bridge. Trap pushed Halmarain and Beglug into a line of farmer's carts. They walked carefully at the rear of an apple cart, trying hard to stay out from under the hooves of the mules that followed.
"You're going to get us trampled," Halmarain said, ducking her head as the right lead mule nudged the top of her dwarven helmet.
"You said you didn't want the guards at the gate to catch sight of us," Trap said. "Besides, mules are friendly." He reached in his pouch and pulled out an apple that had somehow fallen into it while they were shopping. He fed it to the left leader, which caused it's teammate to nudge more urgently at the little wizard, nearly knocking her off her feet.
The merchesti allowed himself to be bustled along without complaint. He was still happily chewing on the spear point, which had been a large one.
"You know, Beglug's digestive system must be a lava pit," Trap said. "He eats the strangest things. We should try him on rocks."
"He's nightmarish," the small wizard snapped. "And by all the gods, look at his boots. The left had turned side-ways, toe out, and the right was completely backward.
"Maybe no one will notice," the kender said hopefully. By skipping and kicking at Beglug's boots as the fiend raised his feet, Trap turned the toes forward again. Half a mile further on, they found Ripple and the gully dwarves. Grod sat on a rock while Ripple attempted to knock mud off the back of Umpth's hauberk with a handful of branches. She looked as if she were beating him, but by his expression, Umpth was unconcerned with the switches.
"He got tired and sat down in a mud puddle," she explained.
"We won't go much further on the road," Halmarain said, using the magic in her staff to clean the gully dwarf's clothing. "If we stay south of those mountains, we'll be able to cross the foothills."
Their destination was Palanthus, one hundred and seventy-five miles to the north, according to one of Trap's maps. A new map had mysteriously appeared among his belongings after their last shopping trip.
The kender had left the decisions on the route to the wizard's apprentice, since they had no preference as to direction. The gully dwarves had no objections to traveling anywhere if there was plenty of food.
Halmarain led the way east along the road for another half mile, where three large barns, each with a big corral, stood just off the road. A faded sign announced: Glomer's Horses-Bought, Sold, and Boarded.
"I don't intend to walk all the way to Palanthus, especially since we have Orander's magic purse," the little wizard announced as she led the way into the yard. "And keep those gully dwarves from sitting in the dirt," she hissed at Ripple.
Trap could have spent the rest of the day looking at the animals, but Halmarain chose seven ponies in quick succession. She paid for the animals and six saddles and a pack frame with very little haggling. In a short time they were leading their mounts east along the road.
"You paid too much," Trap told Halmarain. "Not that it matters. We'd better find something else to buy. The purse has already filled up again."
"I know I paid too much," the little wizard said. "I wanted to leave before that… before Beglug ate the blacksmith's anvil or the gully dwarves sat down in a pile of manure. Either one would cause more talk than we can afford."
"Who would talk about us?" Trap wanted to know.
"I don't know… no one… everyone… look, humor me. I just have a bad feeling, as if we're not safe."
"Does it come from your magic?" the kender asked, suddenly interested.
Halmarain looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You know, it could," she admitted. "I was trying to learn a magic sensing spell before you… before Orander went through the portal. I didn't bring that book. If I had, I'd study that spell. No, I think I'm worried about making this trip."
"Is that why we're going east instead of west, like you said we would?" Ripple asked.
Halmarain stared at the kender for a moment. She nodded, sighed, and shook her head. "I told you I could not make the journey alone. Which way is west?"
They continued east, leading the ponies until they reached a small wooded area and turned off. When they were out of sight of any passing travelers, they tethered the animals to the trees and tied their bundles on the pack pony. As Halmarain had warned them, she could not reach high enough to tie the bundles. She tried several times before she gave up in disgust and left the job to the kender.
"The fun begins when we try to get that… get Beglug into the saddle," Halmarain said, staring at the little fiend. The gully dwarves had to lift him into the saddle, but Ripple had the happy thought of taking a stick of fire-wood from the horse chandler's wood pile. Soothed with a little snack, the merchesti was happy enough.
They soon discovered the gully dwarves presented a more difficult problem, mainly because the Aghar mixed their lefts and rights. Told to stand on the left sides of the ponies and put their left feet in the stirrups, Umpth took a position on the right and used his left foot. Grod, trying to follow his leader's example by mirroring his actions, stood on the left of his mount, but he used his right foot. Both ended up mounted backward.
"Pony going wrong way," Umpth announced, frowning until his grime-filled wrinkles scrunched together.
"Wizard get wrong end ponies," Grod observed as he twisted to look over his shoulder. The pony turned its head to look back at him.
"Get down. Try it again," Trap said. The kender laughed. The tiny wizard shook her head and predicted dire results before they reached their destination.
Grod immediately tried to throw his right leg over the rump of the pony; his boot tangled in the stirrup and he fell from the saddle. His arms and shoulders touched the ground and his blond beard swept the hard packed dirt. His right boot was still caught in the stirrup that was looped over the saddle.
Trap dashed around the frightened pony. He extricated the dwarf by pulling his foot out of his boot, while Ripple calmed Grod's mount.
"We haven't seen much of a city, but we still have some tales to tell," she laughed as she waited for the gully dwarf to mount again. A frustrating ten minutes later they had both gully dwarves properly mounted. Then they discovered the gully dwarves had no concept of the reins or how to use them.
The kender fashioned long lead lines so Trap could lead Beglug's mount and the pack animal while Ripple led the two gully dwarves' ponies.
"Are we ready now?" said Halmarain, who had mum-bled and grumbled and tramped restlessly around under the trees. She glared at Ripple.
"How roll wheel?" Umpth demanded, his dark wrinkles twisting again.
"You'll just have to leave it," the wizard said as Trap helped her mount her pony.
"No leave wheel," Grod said, taking both feet out of the stirrups, ready to slide out of the saddle.
"No! Don't do that," Trap objected. He frowned at the large wagon wheel sitting by the tree. "Here's what you do," he said, shortening the lead on Grod's pony so the two gully dwarves rode side by side. He rolled the wheel between them.
"Roll it together; with one of you on each side of it, you ought to keep it going."
"Kender smart," Umpth said as he sat with his left hand on the pommel and his right on the wheel.
"Little wizard no smart as kender," Grod added.
"She fuss all time," Umpth added. "No like Aghar magic."
"You don't have any magic," Halmarain retorted, her eyes blazing.
"She no learn, too," Grod nodded at his brother.
"Little wizard, little smarts," Umpth suggested.
"Little smarts, little magic," Grod added.
"If we don't get moving, I'm going to kill two gully dwarves," the wizard muttered. She whipped up her pony and led the way through the forest.
Trap had expected all sorts of trouble with the wheel, but he was surprised by the outcome. Umpth, riding to the left of his brother, kept his left hand on the pommel of the saddle and used his right to guide the wheel. Grod, his right hand gripping his seat, used his left to move it along.
The afternoon was warm. Trap, like all kender, loved riding. Once he decided the gully dwarves could manage their wheel, he turned his attention to the countryside.
They stayed in the woods as they circled the city to the south and were only five miles west of Lytburg when the sun disappeared behind the mountains. They found a deserted farm with the stone shells of several burned out buildings. Except for the few fire stains that the wind and rain had not erased, the roofless walls could have been built the day before. Not a hundred yards from the house, a spring rose out of the ground and the water meandered away in a small stream.
At Halmarain's insistence, they made camp in the large roofless barn where the ponies would be sheltered. Grass grew within the walls as well as without. They hobbled the ponies and left them to graze at the far end of the walled enclosure.
Ripple looked about. "Why doesn't someone put on new roofs and live here?" she asked.
"After the Cataclysm, and the wars and pestilence that followed, there are more deserted farms than people to claim them," Halmarain replied. "The people who survived those terrible times moved closer to the roads and the rivers."
"Then there won't be other travelers going our way," Trap said sadly, but he brightened almost at once. "Still, if there aren't any humans or dwarves, there might be other creatures. We might see bears and mountain cats."
"Hush, don't mention them." Halmarain shivered and looked around apprehensively. Her admonition had been a whisper, entirely at odds with the clumping of her over-size boots.
"Leave alone!" Umpth suddenly shouted, pulling his wagon wheel away from Beglug. The merchesti had slipped it away and was just opening his mouth to take a bite.
"No Beglug!" Trap admonished. "Lava Belly!" Trap shook his head. "He can eat anything."
"Lava Belly no eat wheel," Umpth complained.
Trap looked about, trying to find something to draw the attention of the merchesti from the wheel. In one corner of the barn he found the blade of a rusty plow.
"Do you think rust will hurt Beglug?" Trap asked Halmarain, but Beglug hadn't waited for an answer. He scampered over and pulled the plow out of the kender's hands.
"Beglug?" he said, licking at the rust like a child sucking the sugar off a cake.
"I don't think anything bothers his digestion," the wizard replied.
"How can he eat such strange things?" Trap asked.
Halmarain sighed. "I don't know. Who knows what type of creatures the merchesti really are? I don't trust him. Take care of the little monster while I learn a calming spell to keep him quiet. We're certainly going to need one."
"Ripple and I will make a stew," Halmarain announced when the ponies had been unsaddled and a campfire started. "But there will be no dinner for the gully dwarves or you"-she frowned at Trap-"until they've washed up. How they can get so filthy just riding a pony, I'll never understand."
After their evening meal a pair of disgruntled but reasonably clean gully dwarves sat by the fire, Umpth stroking the wheel and Grod, with uncharacteristic curiosity for an Aghar, looking over the wizards shoulder as if he were trying to read her spellbook.
As the twilight gave way to night, Beglug curled up on the ground close to the fire. Ripple took a flute from her pouch and played a soft tune. Her music was interrupted by her laughter as Trap tried to teach Umpth and Grod the words to the songs. When the gully dwarves tired of learning, Grod sat staring at Halmarain.
"Wizard say do magic," he announced.
"Hey, that's right!" They had not seen any illusions for days, and Trap had spent the evening hoping.
"You're right! She did!" Ripple agreed, glaring at Halmarain.
The little wizard looked up from her book, frowned at Grod and sighed. After sending Grod for a handful of long blades of grass, she spread them out and spoke the words of a spell. The blades of grass rose, glowed with color, and twisted in the air, circling around and through the loops of other blades. The illusion that fascinated the kender and the gully dwarves lasted about five minutes.
"Trap, it's your turn," Ripple said. "I played the flute. Grod and Umpth sang, now you tell a story. I know. Tell one about that Uncle Trapspringer."
"Him dead," Grod said. "Make a good tale, that."
Trap let his mind travel back to his sadness over his Uncle Goalong and tears trickled down his cheeks.
"My poor Uncle Trapspringer," he began. "He never should have ridden that pony backward…"
While Trap wove his tale, Halmarain had pulled a spellbook out of her pack. The large book was nearly half her height and she struggled to spread it out across her short, out-thrust legs. She kept her head lowered as if studying the book, but occasionally she lifted her eyes as Trap wove another tale of a strange and interesting death for his imaginary uncle.