“A work of that sort is never openly advertised for sale. The necklace was viewed privately for some few days, and then the trader auctioned it off in the company of a select private group of individuals who typically have interest in rare gems, jewelry, and works of art. It was sold to the agent of a powerful foreigner, a lord from Dyvers, evidently. Although the purchasing agent left Greyhawk only a few days ago, you can be certain that the necklace went off long before that-say three weeks past, A known dealer in such precious commodities doesn’t travel with funds, or with purchases either. Thieves and brigands would soon have all. and him dead.”
It was all Gord could do to restrain himself from pulling his friend out of his chair and hugging him. “And the name of the buyer?”
“Neither the buyer nor the man he bought for are known. That’s hardly surprising. The agent is known hereabouts as Demming, or Sharpeye Demming. The descriptions I have heard could fit any man of middling height, common features, and average age. You can wager with assurance that the name he uses elsewhere will be different from his alias here. There is nothing else.”
“Then let’s be satisfied at that! Dyvers is not quite as large a city as Greyhawk, and hiding in the place is one with a clue I seek. We can ferret out him and the stones in no time at all!”
“I hate to say this, Gord, but what makes you suppose the man will be in Dyvers? If he is an active trader, and one seeking to earn a living, he’ll be off again by now, looking for such things in other cities-and the whole of the Flanaess is a large place to disappear in.”
After pondering that for a moment, the young man inclined his head in agreement with Gellor’s statement. “Yes, there is merit to what you say. The necklace, however, is not at all likely to be making its way about the lands of the west, east, north, and south. In fact, such a treasure will be locked up safe in a special place-that I know from experience!” Gord exclaimed with a roguish grin.
“Except…” Gord added with a gleam in his eye, “when such a thing is brought forth for others to envy and admire. A necklace of this sort will grace the throat of some gorgeous courtesan ere long, if not already. Thus its owner shows off a pair of prized possessions at the same time… Oh, yes, Gellor, my boon friend! We shall have them soon!” Gord paused, snapped his fingers, sprang up, and began to bustle about the apartment.
“How soon can you be ready to go, Gellor? It won’t take me an hour to put my gear together. Allow me twice that long to settle a few other matters, and then I’m horsed and away!”
Gellor stood then too, walked over, and gripped the young man firmly by his shoulders. “All of us, you know, are not quite as free and unencumbered as you are, my boy. You propose a journey of a week in length, and possibly three times that long nosing around in Dyvers thereafter. If I could accompany you, I would, and I would that I could! There are other things for me to see to, however-duties which I can neither neglect nor pass off onto another’s shoulders. I leave tomorrow on a coaster, and I’ll be gone on various business for at least a month. Perhaps when those affairs are tended to, I’ll be at liberty.”
Gord was disappointed but determined. “It would be better with you, Gellor. But with or without, I am setting off for the west road this very day! When will we meet again?”
“This is something neither of us can know, but I will return here as soon as I am able-two months at the outside.”
“If I’m not returned by then, I’ll never be back,” the young man said with a confident laugh. “Look for me here or at the Chessmen Tavern-now, isn’t that a fitting place!”
Gellor stayed on as his young friend went about gathering and packing. They exchanged only a few words for the better part of an hour, and then Gord addressed the one-eyed man when his packing was almost done. “You’ll find your way all right until your vessel departs?”
“But of course,” the one-eyed man said with a chuckle. “That’s something I’ve managed alone quite well for many more years than you’ve seen. Now be on your way as quick as you like, and don’t waste any concerns about hospitality. This is a matter which cannot be ignored in favor of small talk and pleasantries, now, isn’t it?”
“Thanks, Gellor. You are a good friend in all respects. I shall expect to see that bright eye of yours again in a few weeks. Farewell!”
Gord picked up his gear, and the two men clumped hastily down the long flights of narrow stairs and out into the afternoon’s waning. The one-eyed man went off to find a comfortable place to spend the night near the docks, while Gord finished up a few errands and then made for the stable not far from his lodgings. The dust from his cantering mount made a golden plume in the last rays of the setting sun as he left Greyhawk behind on his way to Dyvers.
Chapter 17
The city of Dyvers was like Greyhawk in many respects, but the differences were significant. Dyvers was older, not quite so large in area or population, more crowded with strangers. The buildings were different, squarer, the towers squatty with even thicker walls than those of Gord’s home city. The place had no new and old cities; Dyvers was one municipality. It had slums and poor sections, but none so bad as Greyhawk’s, just as its finer portions were not so grand as those of its rival to the east.
The hilltop villas and mansions of Greyhawk looked out over the snaking waters of the Selintan. In Dyvers, similar palatial structures had vistas of the Velverdyva River or the endless-seeming expanse of the Nyr Dyv. Beautiful and ugly were intermixed, poor and rich, just as in great cities everywhere, Gord supposed.
His journey here had been rapid and relatively uneventful. After arriving in Dyvers, Gord had spent a day simply relaxing and refreshing himself. He chose a middle-priced inn near the middle of the city where most of the clientele seemed of middling sort. It was drab, dull, and quiet-just the place he wanted for his coming work.
Being an able scholar was a boon indeed. It didn’t take long for Gord to locate a seller of books and maps, and there he found a fairly accurate map of the city. He retired to his room to commit the map to memory, using key features as landmarks. That night, his second at the inn, he ventured forth and began making the rounds of taverns and inns frequented by the wealthier folk who dwelled in Dyvers or came regularly to the city to do business. That excursion gained him nothing, but Gord wasn’t discouraged. He had expected nothing, even though it was worth the chance anyway.
The detective work required several sets of new clothing and extensive drinking and frequenting of various high-class establishments of many sorts to accomplish fully. A slim lead was obtained here, a possibly false name there. There were only a handful of people in the whole of Dyvers able to afford a costly piece of jewelry of the sort Gord was looking for, and of those, most wouldn’t have agents traveling around to find specific pieces.
The work would have been far simpler had he not been constrained by the need for discretion and confidentiality-his need, of course, not that of the owner of the nine sapphires. If Gord boldly inquired in the seamier establishments of the town, he could have soon come up with the name he wanted. But then, however, every government informer, thief, and assassin in Dyvers would have known him as well. The trick was to gain information while revealing none about yourself. That required more time, great skill, and considerable expense. Gord had all three commodities at his beck and call, so in a few days he had what he needed.
“I shall be departing for Veluna City today, landlord. May I please have my reckoning?” Gord made a production of it all, paying, leaving a good sum in addition for the proprietor, ordering his horse, and then departing. He was sure the landlord would not forget him for a long time. In fact, Gord actually did leave the city by its western portal, stopping there a moment to chat with the sergeant of the guard, complimenting him on his community and remarking with a wink on the looks and friendliness of the women. Of course, that last remark rubbed the fellow the wrong way, just as Gord had intended.