This question was not entirely rhetorical. Lady Risteria paused to look at each of the six men in turn. Some of the expressions she saw showed the wizardess that the minds behind them held definite opinions, but none of the six spoke. She nodded, satisfied with their continued deference, and went on.
“I submit that we have somehow erred in what we did. Sometimes the Balance allows us too much latitude, and I fear that this is a case in point. Instead of a poor, Ignorant, and useless slum-youth, Gord is a knowledgeable, skilled, wandering thief and ne’er-do-well. He shows no loyalty, no concerns for aught but his own pleasure, acts on mere whims, and now companions recklessly with Attloi gypsies, squandering ill-gotten gains and increasing his efficacy at finding more such wealth by association with those shiftless cheats and liars!”
“Thank you. Lady Risteria, we-” Before Bru could say more, the wizardess cut him off. She had more to say and would say it!
“Why didn’t you act, Markham, to see that he remained at the university? And you, Zarten-as a priest, it was your duty to encourage him to study and follow useful paths in order to reach a better goal than that he has attained. Far better a cleric, even, if no suasion could be found to turn his mind to dweomercraefting! Yet you all, each and every one of you, served to keep him on course so that now he is nothing more than a wretched thief!”
“Madam!” Tapper sputtered, red-faced. Clyde was too angry to even manage a sputter, and the Beggar-master, Thadeus, better known as Chinkers, had great difficulty controlling his ire as well. If Risteria spoke thus of thievery, what would she say of thiggery? The very thought of her sharp tongue dissecting his profession made the plump fellow wince.
“Who here is so perfect?” It was Bru, speaking for them all, who asked that. The wizardess opened her mouth to reply, but the big, bearded man pressed on. “The Balance makes no such value Judgments, lady, so by what right do you place your craft-or that of Zarten-above any other? There is no answer, lady, for there is no right. Neither you nor I may sit in judgment of Gord, or of those above us who directed our actions in this regard. We did as we were asked because we accept the guidance of the Enlightened. Shall I now contact them and state your dissent?”
The wizardess’ face grew pale. “No, Master Bru, I think that will be quite unnecessary. I must apologize to you all for losing my composure and not checking my speech. It’s just that I thought the boy had so much promise…”
“And still does-or has even more so!” It was Clyde, finally able to voice his opinion. That one is a man now-and never has a finer practitioner of the art of thievery existed, to my knowledge! As a stripling he outshined most adults. Full grown, Gord must be a match for the masters of the guilds both east and west. Why, In a decade or two his name might be legend amongst all who-”
“Who know of the rankings of speculation and depredation,” the priest filled in. “Yet we aren’t here to discuss Cord’s merits, either-and it needn’t be said that I happen to side with Lady Risteria in regard to deploring thievery, on grounds too self-evident to go into here.”
“Get on with it, man!” Markham was beginning to grow weary of this conclave. Bickering should be reserved for trading and kept out of council. His look said that plainly enough.
“Of course, of course,” ahemed Zarten. “I suppose I assisted the lad’s course by supplying him with the lightstone, after all… To the point, then. Good lady mage, please intelligence us on young Gord’s whereabouts and likely prospects now. You mentioned that he was part of a band of gypsy folk, as I recall.”
“Quite right,” Lady Risteria said. “When I was notified of this meeting, I took the trouble to scry out the subject, and thereafter I sought advice arcane from certain powers favorably attuned to me.” She paused to allow comment, but not one of the six others present spoke, so the wizardess resumed her account.
“Gord is a very able young man, of that there is no doubt. Since leaving our city he has grown in skill, both at his… craft, and with the weapons of warfare as well. The Attloi he now accompanies are artful instructors, and young Gord practices diligently at gymnastics and acrobatics, rope walking, tumbling, the whole useless lot common to jugglers, wandering performers, and the rest of the gypsy lot who employ such feats to further their own-”
“Ahem!”
The loud clearing of his throat and the accompanying look from Markham sufficed to put Risteria back on track again. “…livelihood,” she finished, doing her best to remain unruffled. “It seems he will become more able than ever to succeed, yet there are many dangers ahead for Gord, and many clouded areas. Someone, something, a power perhaps, still interposes itself if his skein is examined too closely.”
“I too encountered such interference, lady,” Zarten said solemnly. “I think it was no evil one who interfered, though. I cannot be sure, of course, for I dared not pry too strongly,” the cleric added for the benefit of the others. “It seemed evident that he will be in peril often. One of ours should be near just in case.”
“And that is why we are met here this very hour,” the bearded leader of the council said. “Your words are well. taken. Before nightfall I will be departing Greyhawk, and I will pass along the opinion of this group to those above me. Is that the voice of us all, then? Gord should have full attention in the near future because of impending peril?”
Nods of assent to this came from Tapper, Clyde, Markham, and Chinkers. “I concur,” said Lady Risteria. The priest spoke last, saying, “It would seem to be the most prudent course for the Balance, assuming that he is still considered to be important to future events-for Gord does go into danger, of that there can be no question.”
“Then that is the message I shall give to my superiors,” Bru said, concluding the meeting.
At about that time Gord awakened. He had had a bad dream, and the sudden jolting of the wagon brought him out of it abruptly and thankfully. Wiping the sweat from his face, the young thief went to the back of the vehicle and swung open the little door at its end. It was no feat to jump out and run along beside the slowly moving wagon. His two friends were on their steeds up ahead someplace, and Gord would seek them out now. Soon camp would be made for the night, and he wanted to see what plans were afoot for the evening.
“Hey, Channos! Elo! Wait for me!” The two young Attloi gypsies had been his friends, and instructors of a sort too, since last summer. It was early spring now, and Gord was no longer a pupil. If anything, he could show the two of them a trick or two at acrobatics, but boon companions they were still.
“Where have you been hiding?” Elo demanded as he turned his horse in Gord’s direction.
Channos was less patient than that. “Hurry up! Get your horse and join us. We won’t wait, you know! There’s an inn at Karrish, the village just ahead. If we don’t get there soon, the rest of the men will be there to get the best pickings before us!” With that Channos rode off and Elo followed him, leaving Gord to run back for his own mount and catch up as best he could.
Perhaps the two thought the village’s only inn was a splendid place to be. In a sense it was, considering the long distance their band of wagons had traveled before coming to such a place, and the relative quality of similar places found in this part of the Flanaess. Gord, however, comparing it to the many establishments he had patronized from Greyhawk to Radigast City and beyond, found it disappointing. Even the girls here were plain or lacked vivacity, or both. Although the folk here kept a sharp eye on the visitors, they at least seemed ready enough to accept their temporary presence, Gord noticed.