CHAPTER 4: THICKER THAN WATER
Khalid threw open his bedroom door and rushed into the hallway, heading for the main entrance. Skidding to a halt on the marble floor, he quickly reconsidered and darted out a side door into a garden. Leaping over a small hedge, he crept along the side of Arbaq's mansion and peered around the corner into the courtyard. Seeing several armed men milling around the gate, Khalid grabbed a fist full of sand and was about to unleash a spell when he realized all of the soldiers were wearing Arbaq's green and white. Taking a moment to sort out the scene, he saw Gorak standing in the middle, arguing furiously with one of the guardsmen. On the other side of the wrought iron gate was a shadowy figure that tugged at Khalid's memory, although he could barely see anything in the flickering torch light. A guard stuck the butt end of his spear through the gate to prod the figure away from the wall and was jerked forward as his spear was seized. With a loud clang the guard crashed into the gate, then staggered back and fell down as Gorak shoved him. Khalid groaned inwardly as he realized there was only one person he knew strong enough to fling around a grown man like that. With a laugh, Gormo tossed the guard's spear back through the gate. Khalid stepped out from his hiding place and walked into the light. Relaxing only slightly, he held onto a pinch of sand as it looked very much like a full scale brawl was about to erupt.
Heads jerked around as the barracks door opened with a crash. Muttering curses, the Captain of the guard stumbled out. Sizing up the situation with a quick glance, he turned to Gorak, “What's going on here?” he demanded.
“Nothing. This is my bruther, and we're just leavin'.” Gorak grunted, still glaring at the sitting guard.
The Captain, being somewhat better informed, recognized Gorak's unique place within the household. Mulling things over, he decided in the interest of a good night's sleep to take Gorak at his word. “Fine. Take him and get out of here.” he replied and headed back to his bunk.
The guards, with a few sullen glances in Gorak's direction, began to disperse and resume their posts. Halfway across the courtyard, Shayla fell into step beside Khalid. They joined Gorak at the gates as he grunted in agreement with something Gormo said.
Gormo was every bit as unpleasant as Khalid remembered. Slightly taller and wider than Gorak, he smelled as though he hadn't bathed in a month. Breathing heavily from his encounter with the guards, Gormo eyed Khalid and Shayla as they approached. He rubbed a hand over his greasy topknot as his eyes lingered for an uncomfortably long time on Shayla's lithe form. Clad only in a gauzy nightgown, Shayla endured his gaze without a trace of embarrassment. He muttered a greeting then spoke again to Gorak. “C'mon. Let's go.”
“Ah, Gorak, what's going on?” Khalid asked.
“Gotta go into the dessert. Me Da's been taken.” Gorak replied. “Gormo, wait here, and don't angry up the guards while I get my gear.”
“Taken? By who?” Shayla asked as she fell into step beside him.
“Dunno,” Gorak growled with uncharacteristic patience. “That's why I gotta go.”
“Well I'm coming with you.” Shayla raised a hand as Gorak began to object. “Don't argue. You might need me.” Gorak stopped and stared at her intently for a second, then shrugged and continued walking back to the house.
“Khalid,” Shayla continued. “What about you?”
“Ah, I think perhaps my presence may be more of a hinderence, yes, hinderence than a help, for a variety of reasons.” Khalid looked questioningly at Gorak. “Ah, unless of course you think I can help?”
“Nah. They took him two days ago. I'm gonna go hunt around a bit, see if maybe they left anything behind that'll give me an idea of who ta beat on first. Get your stuff Shayla, and meet me out here in ten minutes.”
Pursing her lips slightly, Shayla watched him disappear around the corner of the house heading towards the garden he slept in. “He's in one of those moods. This is going to get unpleasant.” Shayla said. “Not that I blame him. Oh well, never a dull moment, eh Khalid?”. With a flash of her devastating smile she walked into the mansion.
Shivering in the cold desert night, Khalid sighed at the lot the fortunes had cast him. Never indeed. Then he went inside to pack.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Time passed slowly for Khalid as he fretted over the fate of his friends. They had been gone for over a day now and the monotony of his ethereal portal was beginning to irk him. Having a few theories of his own about who might have snatched Magol, Khalid had announced to the staff that he was leaving and instructed them to leave a note in his room when Gorak returned. He then promptly vanished into his extra dimensional pocket, coming out only under the cloak of an invisibility spell to take some food from the kitchen.
Finally, midway through the third day, he glanced out of the portal and saw a note from the servant. Dropping down into his bedroom, he sought out Gorak and Shayla. He found them, engaged in conversation in antechamber off Shayla's room. Gorak glanced up when he entered and grunted, “Where the hell have you been?”
Khalid could see the seething anger in Gorak's face, raging just below the surface. “Ah, keeping a low profile, yes, quite. What did you find out?”
“Nothing,” Gorak spat. “Looks like six men grabbed him in the middle of the night. Da bloodied a few of em and killed at least one, according to my Ma. Then they knocked her out and dragged him off before anybody knew what was going on. They took their wounded and headed out into the desert. Maybe if I'd got there sooner, I coulda followed em, but the tracks were blown out a half day into the wastes.”
“Ah, I see,” Khalid said, somewhat lamely. “Where's Gormo?”
“He's got a place in the city here. I sent him back there to keep him out of trouble while I figure this out.” Gorak rumbled.
“Ah, Gorak, something has been bothering me the last few days.” Khalid said somewhat hesitantly. Unnerved by Gorak's flat stare, he continued haltingly, “Ah, well, it's about Gormo.”
“Spit it out Khalid, I ain't in no mood fer games,” Gorak growled.
“Yes, quite. Well, ah, how exactly did Gormo know where to find you? The last he knew, we were heading, yes, heading for Shalazar. And it's not like he knew we were working for Arbaq, we only just met him on the way there. Yes, quite.” Khalid blurted out.
Gorak's usual frown darkened. “You know, that's a damn good question. I was so wrapped up in finding me Da that I never even figured to ask. I don't care if he is sick,” Gorak muttered. “I'm gonna go back there and find out what the hell is going on.”
Without another word, Gorak stormed out. A nagging suspicion began to gnaw at Khalid as he mulled over what Gorak had said. Frustrated and worried, he spent the next few hours in Arbaq's harem, but even that couldn't distract him. Seeing that Gorak still hadn't returned, he idly flipped through his spellbook and penned a few notes on a new spell he'd been researching.
Finally, hearing a slamming door that could only herald Gorak's return, Khalid tucked his spellbook into his robes and sought out his friend. As he walked by Shayla's door, he tapped lightly, and a few seconds later she emerged, her tousled red hair still damp from a recent bath. The two of them headed down the hall to Gorak's room and walked in without knocking, knowing the huge half-orc preferred to spend his time in the garden outside. Crawling through an open window, they found Gorak squatting on his haunches, smoking a foul smelling cigar.
“Ah, yes, what did you discover?” Khalid asked immediately.
“Nothing. He's got some charm of Da's that he used to use to keep tabs on me. Got one for both of us, I guess.”
“Oh,” Shayla remarked with a disappointed little sigh. “Now what do we do?” The concern was evident in her voice.
Khalid stared at the two of them as icy fear seized his heart. He started to speak, but all that came out was a strangled little yelp. Gorak stopped in mid sentence and both he and Shayla looked at Khalid. Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, he realized that neither Shayla nor Gorak had his White Tower schooling, and neither would understand the significance of that trinket. “Ah, Gorak, a locating spell of, ah, that magnitude, on a trinket yes, that could be used at will would, ah, cost an enormous, yes, enormous,sum of gold. Yes, quite.”
He could see the comprehension began to dawn on their faces. “Who knows,” Gorak growled. “Maybe Da looked at it like an investment.”
“Ah, Gorak, I'm talking thousands upon thousands of sultans. Didn't you once, yes, once tell me that when you ran out of water on a desert, ah, walkabout, your Da wouldn't give you any, until you, ah, paid him for it?”
As much as Gorak wanted to deny it, the truth was evident. “Then that means...”
“Halaal.” Khalid said awful finality.
“Son of a whore!” Gorak cursed. “Then that bastard Gormo is in league with him. When I get my hands on him, I'll throttle that dirty goblin f*lcher.”
Shayla put a restraining hand on Gorak's arm as he leapt to his feet. “Easy Gorak. Halaal is probably black mailing him with your father. He might even know where we can find Magol.”
Some of Gorak's anger faded away at Shayla's calming touch. “Doubt it,” he growled. “Otherwise he'd have rallied the clan and stormed into the city. Gormo ain't one for thinking things out.”
Khalid frantically wracked his brain, trying to remember a lesson at the White Tower that continued to elude him. Sighing inwardly as he realized the details would never come to him, he spoke. “Ah, it is quite likely, yes, quite likely indeed that he is under some sort of compulsion. Halaal is no fool, and would quickly suspect that Gormo would, ah, as you suggested, storm the city.”
“Can you break it?” Gorak growled.
Khalid shook his head helplessly. “Ah, Halaal was a powerful wizard, and even without his powers, he still has decades, yes, decades of accumulated magical resources at his disposal. I am self taught, and all, yes, all of my resources have thus far been directed at keeping us alive. Yes, quite.”
“Well, he still might know something useful,” Shayla said. “I'll just go make
friends with him and we'll see what he knows.” Her emphasis left no doubt as to what she intended.
“Ah, yes, that might be dangerous, yes, dangerous for Gormo. Conflicting enchantments may be quite hard on his ah, shall we say, volatile, disposition. Yes, quite.” Khalid quickly interjected.
“How dangerous?” Gorak grunted.
“Ah, well, yes, ah...I really, yes, really don't know.” Khalid concluded rather lamely. He was starting to suspect that perhaps at least some small part of his difficulties at the White Tower stemmed from his inattentiveness at lectures.
“Well, he knows something, that's fer damn sure,” Gorak snarled and then did that thing with his hands were he made each knuckle pop one at a time as he curled his hands into fists. “And one way or another, we're gonna find out what. Let's go Shayla.”
Left alone again, Khalid agonized over the situation, alternating between seething frustration at his inability to take action and futile self pity that the fates had conspired to pit him against Halaal, through no fault of his own. He knew what would buy Magol's freedom, how he could end all of this today without any loss of life. It meant given up everything he had worked for; everything he had dreamed of, now that it was finally in his grasp. He remembered the long nights of fruitless study, the mocking taunts of his peers to whom magic came easily, and the derision of his instructors. All that had changed now, and it was Khalid that they all envied. To be cut off from the endless flow of raw power that coursed through him, Khalid could imagine nothing worse. He wrestled with his turbulent thoughts for over an hour, before he realized that there was no decision to make. To surrender himself, to abase himself before Halaal and throw away his livelihood, his very existence was unthinkable. He spent a few minutes studying a few more spells, preparing for the worst, and sought out Arbaq.
Arbaq as he often was these days, was locked in his study. Having left no specific instructions not to be disturbed, Khalid knocked rather timidly on the door, and was bid enter by Arbaq's cultured voice. Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, he found Arbaq seated in one of the large leather armchairs, a thick tome in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. With a snap, he closed the book and placed it on the table beside him, in order to give Khalid his full attention. “How goes the search for Gorak's father?” he asked, with what seemed to be genuine concern. Although with Arbaq, one was never quite sure.
“Ah, I was not aware that you had been informed. Yes, quite.” Khalid replied.
“I do try to keep abreast of what is going on in my own house,” Arbaq chastised him, albeit with a wry grin. “I heard the disturbance, and Shayla filled me in on the details.”
“Yes, quite. In truth it goes ah, poorly, yes, quite poorly indeed.” Khalid hesitated for only a second, before continuing. “It seems as though the wizard, ah, Halaal is behind it, yes quite. There is no question, yes, no question what he seeks from me, as you have probably surmised.” He reached down and touched his rucksack. He had taken to carrying around his spellbook and enough provisions for a short journey.
“Indeed, knowing the state of the White Tower, I can imagine what he wants with you, and what he is prepared to do to obtain it.”
“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed. “It appears, yes, appears as though he has coerced Gorak's brother into serving as an, intermediary as it were. It is quite, yes, quite likely that Gormo is ensorceled. He has already lied to us and knowing his temperament, it is only a matter of time before he takes matters, ah, into his own hands.”
“A most distressing situation to be sure,” Arbaq said carefully as he studied Khalid with a penetrating gaze. “What is it you would have of me?”
“Ah, nothing myself, although Gorak may ask for your help, yes, help if he is unable to wrest any information from Gormo. Yes, quite. I, ah, have merely come here to inform you of my intentions.” Khalid took a deep breath and then plunged forward. “Gorak and I have faced many, yes, many dangers together, but where his father is concerned, I do not pretend to know his mind. It is possible, yes, quite possible that should he exhaust all other avenues, he will approach me for what Halaal seeks. I will not permit him to take it. Yes, I will prevent that with the full, yes, full extent of my abilities.”
Arbaq's impassive demeanor didn't change in the slightest at Khalid's declaration. “Indeed. Let us both hope that it does not come to that. I suppose that if I were you, I would do the same.” He shifted slightly in his chair and casually changed the direction of the conversation as only a seasoned merchant could. “Ah, I see you studying the titles of some of my personal collection.” He waved his hand expansively at the enormous bookshelves lining each wall. In truth, it was all Khalid could do to look Arbaq in the eye when he was in this room, so enamored was he by books that surrounded him. “Long have my studies consumed me in those few hours when I can set aside my business ventures. I have delved deeply into ancient histories and forgotten lore, discovered things which I may be only person alive to know. I have studied subjects both mundane and esoteric, practical and theoretical. I have read the greatest works of literature ever written, and some of the foulest, most vile depictions sentient ritual to ever be vomited upon a page. Take this book for example.” He selected a thin, unassuming black book from among the many behind him and passed it to Khalid. “Inside you will a thousand ways to inflict the most gruesome pain upon a living being.” Khalid flipped through the book quickly, having no real interest in learning how to torture people, but curious to see where Arbaq was leading. He paused at a peculiar looking picture until his mind sorted out the contorted figure and hideous things being done to him. He paled slightly and hurried closed the book, handing it back to Arbaq.
“In truth, it is not a particularly original work. However it is quite extensive,” Arbaq continued. He put the book back upon the shelf. “But while interesting, it does not hold the answers that I seek. None of these books do. My studies have gone far beyond this collection, and now I find myself hampered by my own limitations. Everywhere I turn, I am confronted by dead ends. Which is why I have a proposition for you.” Instantly, Khalid knew what was coming.
“Shayla has told me that you were seeking a wealthy patron to hire you as a tutor. Very well I wish you to teach me magick, Khalid. There is much we could learn from one another.”
He was right, that is what Khalid had wanted, so many months ago. Now he was no longer sure. Certainly there was no time for it now; Gorak and Shayla needed him. But he was honest enough with himself to realize that was not the only source of his hesitation.
Arbaq picked up on his reluctance and raised a hand before Khalid could speak. “Of course, now is not the time for this discussion. I ask only that you consider it, once the present circumstance has been resolved. Now if you will excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to shortly. Should I be able to help you in any way, do not hesitate to seek me out again.”
Summarily dismissed, Khalid had little time to consider his conversation with Arbaq, as Shayla and Gorak walked around a corner into the hall. “There you are,” Gorak growled. “We've been looking all over for ya.”
Seeing no signs of recent violence on either Gorak or Shayla, Khalid asked, “Ah, so how did your meeting with Gormo go?”
“Awful,” grunted Gorak.
Shayla nodded. “Suffice it to say, Gormo doesn't like me very much any more.”
“Ah, yes, so what do we do now?” Khalid asked in a hesitant voice, eyeing Gorak carefully.
“Well, good thing for us that Gormo ain't the sharpest knife in the kitchen,” Gorak growled, with an evil grin creeping over his face. “Soon as he threw us outta his room, he took off into the city. We followed him to a big house on the west side of the city.” Gorak shook his head in disgust. “Whatever Halaal's done to him, he ain't the same no more. He looks terrible, real sick like. Even in the crowded streets after siesta, the old Gormo woulda known he was being stalked.”
“Ah, so I daresay I know what the plan is,” Khalid remarked. “When?”
“No sense in waiting,” Shayla replied. “Tonight, when it gets a little darker.”
Even Khalid was buoyed up by the prospect of action. They each went their separate ways to prepare and reconvened to discuss tactics. Since they didn't know if Magol was in the house, or even how many people might be there, the plan was relatively straight forward. Gorak would scale the wall and enter through a second story window. Once inside, he would secure a knotted rope for Khalid and Shayla, who would follow him in. They would head downstairs immediately, in an attempt to ensure that no one had the opportunity to escape. Where possible they would take prisoners, but there was no question that should it become necessary, there would be fatalities.
As Shayla and Gorak discussed the possible layout of the house, Khalid excused himself to make his final preparations. He stopped a servant in the halls to ask where he could find Arbaq, and was not in the least surprised to hear that he had returned to his study. As he walked through the halls, he considered the evening ahead of him. It was, without question a Gorak plan that they pursued, but in all honesty, considering that it was Gorak's father at risk, it was probably appropriate. He knocked lightly on Arbaq's door, and entered at his bidding.
“Khalid,” Arbaq said as he glanced up from an scroll on his desk, “how can I be of assistance?”
“Ah, we have found some information that may, yes, may lead us to Gorak's father. It is probably best if you, ah, are not familiar with the details, as it is likely, yes quite likely to become unpleasant.”
“Indeed,” Arbaq said. “I would expect nothing less from Gorak. What would you have of me then?”
“Ah, yes, well I come to ask a favor of you,” Khalid replied and at Arbaq's encouragement, continued. “Considering, yes, considering who we are facing this evening, I would, ah, ask that you keep this safe. Yes, quite.” He drew out his spellbook from the satchel at his side and placed it upon the desk before Arbaq.
It was one of those rare moments when Arbaq was caught completely off-guard. The surprise was evident on his face as he placed his hands upon the book. “I realize what this means to you, and I must admit I am astonished that would entrust it to me. I assure you, I will keep it safe for you, until you return.”
“Ah, excellent. Should the unthinkable happen, and I do not return to claim it. It is yours, yes, yours to do with as you will.” It pained Khalid to say it, but thus far Arbaq had treated them well and he was reasonably sure that Arbaq would be able to keep it out of Halaal's clutches.
“Very well. Luck be with you this evening.”
“Yes, quite.” Khalid agreed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Khalid and Shayla loitered in an alley attempting to look inconspicuous while Gorak surveyed the house they were about to assault. Pinching his nose between two fingers, Khalid nudged an enormous rat away from his foot, encouraging it to forage among the numerous piles of garbage that littered the cramped alley. Finally, just when he thought he wouldn't be able to tolerate the stench any longer, Gorak waved them forward.
“Alright,” Gorak growled, “let’s go.”
Khalid started to walk gingerly out of the alley, carefully watching where he put his feet to avoid the most fetid piles of offal. He was just about to step into the street, when Gorak placed a hand on his chest and shoved him backwards into Shayla.
“Sh*t!” Gorak hissed. “It’s Gormo. Get back.”
They scrambled back into the alley and attempted to conceal themselves, but the narrow passage afforded little in the way of cover. Khalid quickly discarded the idea of hiding in one of the mounds of filth, as the inevitable retching would certainly give them away. Holding his breath in fear now, rather than disgust, Khalid watched the street intently, praying fervently to whatever Gods might still be listening to shield them from Gormo’s eye.
The Gods it seemed, had as much love for Khalid as he did for them. As Gormo emerged into view, he stopped almost directly opposite the mouth of the alley and let out an enormous sneeze. Hawking up a gob of phlegm, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and looked up straight at Gorak. His lips drew back in a feral snarl as he realized what was going on.
“Cut him off,” Gorak hissed as he darted out into the middle of the street. Khalid and Shayla followed close on his heels and took up positions on either side, blocking the street and preventing Gormo from returning to the house they were about to assault.
Gormo stared intently at Khalid, with a fierce hunger raging in his bloodshot eyes. He tensed up as though he were going to lunge forward, then thought better of it as Gorak moved to intercept him. With a curse, he turned on his heel and fled down the narrow, twisting streets of Gem-Sharad.
“After him!” Gorak barked as he shoved aside a startled citizen and gave chase. Khalid and Shayla followed close behind and for a few frantic minutes, they ran through the streets, through the thinning crowds of curious onlookers. Finally, Gorak skidded to a stop and held up his hand. “Enough.” he panted, “We're never gonna catch Gormo, he's too damn fast.”
“Ah, then what do we do now?” Khalid asked, breathing heavily from the sudden exertion.
“Go back,” Gorak grunted. “Finish what we started. With any luck Gormo's gonna keep running for a bit.”
They turned back and hurried through the streets as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention. When they finally reached the house, Gorak paused and assessed the situation. Faint light trickled through the shuttered windows, but there was no sign of any disturbance from within. With a jerk of his head, Gorak led them around the side of the building and aided by his magic, easily scuttled up the side of the wall. Khalid breathed a sigh of relief as Gorak forced open the unlocked second story window and climbed quietly inside. A moment later, a rope dropped down. Shayla wasted no time in climbing gracefully up to the second floor. Khalid waited until she was almost in the window, and then with a deep breath, grabbed the rope with both hands.
The knots in the rope made it much easier, but physical exertion had never come easily to Khalid. Pausing for a second to adjust his grip, he leaned back and glanced around as the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He froze, motionless on the rope, hoping it was just a random stranger walking down the street.
“Open up!” Gormo's voice ripped through the night, causing Khalid to almost lose his balance.
“Gorak,” Khalid hissed over the dreadful racket coming from the back door of the house. “Ah, what should we do?”
“Get up here!” Gorak growled as he hauled on the rope, dragging Khalid into the room. Clipping his head on the window on his way through, Khalid stumbled and fell heavily to the floor. Groggily, he looked up just in time to see Gorak throw open the door and lunge out into the hall, followed closely by Shayla. Staggering to his feet, Khalid moved to follow as Shayla cried out the words to a spell. Her musical voice mingled with Gorak's thick growl as he spat out the words to his own incantation.
Khalid had almost reached the door when he heard Shayla shriek, “No! Please don't hurt me!”
Reaching into a pouch at his waist for a handful of mica, Khalid flinched as something soft and sticky brushed across the back of his neck. Glancing up, his eyes widened in surprise as thousands of thick white strands began to drift down through the air, settling on his head and shoulders. Half blind, Khalid frantically tried to brush them away realizing to his growing horror, that they were congealing around his feet. In a matter of seconds, the entire room was covered in thick webbing and Khalid was completely ensnared. With one hand glued to the top of his head and the other tangled at his hip, he sagged against his bindings, defeated. Try as he might, he couldn't free his hands and although mere inches away, his component pouch may well have been on the other side of the sun. Grinding his teeth in impotent fury as Gorak cried out in pain, Khalid had never felt more helpless.