"I am no liar, no spy," said Gord evenly, "and I can help you vanquish the enemy now invading this place as easily as my armor turned away your mighty blow. Mistress of the Abat-dolor."
There was a basso curse from Nisroch and the sound of weapons being drawn as herald and demon knights unsheathed their blades. There was no doubt that the small fellow's bland statement and calm were insults of the most heinous sort, and they would teach the outlander — human or otherwise — what it meant to denigrate the greatest of demon races! Elazalag herself stopped them from such folly. "Hold, Nisroch! Cease, guards! Are you boorixtroi? This is not an opponent for such as you to face," the demoness added as she stared hard at Gord. "Withdraw to the gate," Elazalag commanded. "I will remain alone to treat with these strangers."
Nisroch's eyes burned with green fire as he hesitated, glaring at the three interlopers. The demon was obviously shamed and humiliated. The nine great Chevaliers of the Abat-dolor court likewise hesitated, knotting closely behind the herald. Then the warriors saw their princess's own anger. It was directed at them. Nisroch dropped his gaze, bowed, and turned his mount. For a minute, normal speech was impossible over the thunder of the hippokeres' iron hooves as their riders spurred them back to the gateway.
"Very wise, ruler of the Abat-dolor," Gord said when the din had subsided. He had not taken his own eyes from the tall demoness. "One thing more, though, Princess Elazalag. Please don't try to spray us with discharges of negativity from your black tubes surrounding us. It won't work, and I would then have to exact revenge."
"Just who and what are you?" the six-fingered demoness asked. "That you know the nature of our defenses is unremarkable. Graz'zt's little drow has certainty informed you of such. But you are not right, somehow — neither man nor demon, despite the aura of dark chaos which enwraps you."
"Does it really matter who I am. If I can aid the Abat-dolor in retaining their land and freedom and lives?" Gord said. He expected no answer, and the young champion of Balance waited, for none. "I care nothing for you and your kind, of course. The enemy who threatens you happens to be my foe, too. I plan to destroy that enemy's power, and in the process your precious iyondagur will be cleansed of invaders. You will continue to rule, and my companions and I will be gone."
"Run back to the dungheap's stronghold, perhaps? Or do you seek to cozen me into some trap?" Elazalag shot back "It was just brought to my attention that my realm has been invaded. You three, then, must either be agents of Graz'zt or of the invaders. Either case is sufficient to condemn you to whatever slow death I can devise!"
"Please come here, Lady Leda," Gord said with a clear voice, still keeping his eyes fixed on the demoness. The dark elf stepped beside him hesitantly. "Thank you," Gord said, turning and flashing a warm smile at Leda. "Please be so kind as to display to the princess of the Abat-dolor what it is you hold ready."
For a moment Leda wanted to run away. To do that she would have to use the Eye first, however. Play its forces upon Gord and the rotten Elazalag. then utilize its power to move from the courtyard back to the Soulless Sounding. This object was Graz'zt's by all rights, and neither Gord nor the demon princess could claim otherwise. While such thoughts flashed through her mind, Leda stepped another pace forward, so that she stood just slightly ahead of the gray-eyed man clad in shadow armor and elfin mail.
As she drew the Eye of Deception from its enchanted covering, dark energies seemed to play back and forth between the smoke-colored sphere and the pommel of Courflamme, sheathed at Gord's left hip and near to Leda. Ignoring her own thoughts and desires, heedless of the forces that darted round, the drow priestess lifted the sphere with her right hand. presenting its pupil-like spot to Elazalag, allowing the demoness ruler of the Abat-dolor to view the fell thing from the most undesirable perspective — its business end, as it were. Then Leda spoke without direction from Gord or permission from this royal demoness.
"This, Elazalag of the Abat-dolor, Is just what it seems. I hold the Eye of Deception."
The demon princess's face paled to ashen hue upon seeing the glowing pupil of the thing. Elazalag knew all too well what terrible powers the wielder of the device could loose. "You may encase it again . . . Lady Eclavdra." The noble Abat-dolor managed to remain outwardly calm despite the very real threat — which she read in the draw's eyes, not in the greatest artifact of demon-power known to the Abyss. "Has your master sent you here to slay me? Or to serve against the incursions of my foes — and his?"
It was Gord who interjected before Leda could make any reply. "The lady does not serve Graz'zt any longer. Neither do I or my other companion, of course. We three are as one in serving a greater master. I tell you freely and openly, that cause is one which you and all of your demonfolk will gladly embrace, too."
"Really?" Elazalag sneered, her beautiful features distorting into true demoniacal form as she did so. The transformation was brief, but it helped remind Gord of what he faced. "Now I know you for a double liar, mankin. Despite the wildness of evils which enwraps you, I deem you an agent of the Hells and a friend of daemons!"
"And if you receive from me the Eye of Deception?"
Leda gasped aloud at Gord's words. Never would she permit this demoness to hold the Eye — not even if her love commanded it! As she was about to renounce such a thing he touched her shoulder, lightly, with a loving caress as would a man giving comfort to his own mate. Leda found herself unable to voice a protest, and then the wash of tenderness from Gord's touch flowed down her body, and for a moment she forgot the thought of it.
Elazalag's face stiffened into an unreadable mask. She stretched forth her hand from her platform. "Give me the thing, and then I will consider your words," she said without inflection.
"Not quite so easily or quickly," Gord countered. "There is only scant time for discourse, but I fear we must spend precious minutes doing so, you and I. It would be appropriate to invite us all into your castle immediately, so that we can arrange the details of the bargain."
"Bargain?"
"Yes. A bargain. Princess Elazalag. You and your Abat-dolor will accompany the three of us against the invaders. I will defeat their chief lords, strip them of their power. Thereafter I will reward you for your assistance in the matter with the gift of the Eye of Deception." As he told that to the tall demoness, Gord had shifted his position slightly, unnoticeably. At the last word he suddenly drew forth Courflamme. It was a motion too fast for even a demon's eye to follow. To the onlooking guards and soldiers it appeared only as if he drew and held the weapon forth before him as if in offering it to their ruler. In actuality, Gord touched Elazalag's open hand with the flat of Courflamme's blade in the process.
The contact with the strange blade of mixed crystal and jet sent a jolt into the demon princess's brain. freezing her for a split-second, then warming her much as Gord's touch had quelled the rebellion within Leda. It also brought Elazalag knowledge. Before her was one now eternal, a warrior once human, now one who fought against whatever forces might upset the balance of the multiverse. Implacable foe, unyielding Judge, indomitable in pursuit of his cause. All were true, and true as well were his words regarding the bargain. He cared naught for the Eye of Deception, not if his first opponents — and the deadly enemies of her and her demonfolk — were dealt with as he would have them done.