"What's to stop you from leaving at night, when the Luni tarians are rooted where they stand?"
"Heh, heh, heh! They would hunt me down by daylight!
They move very fast when they want to, don't worry! And there's never been anyplace else to go. The ants have your craft and will not let you have it. The Voice has it now."
Sturm said firmly, "We intend to ask this Voice to return our ship."
"The Voice! Ta-ra-ra! Why not ask the High Lords of
Heaven to bear you home on their backs, like birdies, tweet, tweet? The Voice is evil, Sir Knightblade; beware of it!"
Sturm felt as if he were swimming against a strong cur rent. Rapaldo's mind could not follow the course of reason that Sturm had set out, but there were some nuggets of truth in what he said. The 'Voice,' if it existed, was a great unknown quantity. If it refused them, their hopes for getting home were destroyed.
Sturm made one last attempt to persuade Rapaldo. 'Your
Majesty, if my friends and I can convince the Voice to release our flying ship, would you then provide us with forty pounds of iron! In return, we'll carry you back to Krynn – to your home island, if you wish."
"Enstar?" said Rapaldo, blinking rapidly. Tears formed in his eyes. "Home?"
"To your very doorstep," Sturm promised.
Rapaldo set the lamp on the ground. His hand flashed to his hip, and came back gripping the broad shipwright's axe.
Sturm tensed.
"Come!" said Rapaldo. "I will show you the obelisk."
He padded away, leaving the lamp flickering on the floor.
Sturm looked at the lamp, shrugged, and followed the mad king of Lunitari. Rapaldo's skinny, rag-wrapped feet made only the faintest thumps as he scampered ahead of Sturm.
"This way, Sir Brightsturm! I have a map, a chart, a dia gram, heh, heh."
Sturm followed him around half a dozen twists and turns.
When he faltered or felt uncertain, Rapaldo urged him on.
"The obelisk is in a secret valley, very hard to find! You must have my map to locate it!" Then Rapaldo's tread abruptly ceased, as did his lunatic cackle.
'Your Majesty?" Sturm called quietly. No reply. Careful ly, Sturm drew his sword, letting the blade slip through his fingers to deaden the scrape of metal. "King Rapaldo?" The passage ahead was violet shadows and silence. Sturm advanced into the darkness, sliding his feet along the floor to avoid being tripped.
Rapaldo leaped down from a recess in the wall and brought the axe down on Sturm's head. His helmet saved his skull from the fate of Darnino, but the blow drove the light from his mind and left him laid out cold on the floor.
"Well, well," said Rapaldo, breathing quickly. "A rude dint, I'm sure, and not at all fitting for the new king of Luni tari, eh? The tree-men would never allow their only king to fly away, fly! So I'll take the flying ship and lady, I will, and the trees will have their king. You! Ha, ha!" He giggled and picked up Sturm's helmet. The iron pot had taken the axe's edge with only a slight dent. Rapaldo tried the helmet on. It was far too large for him, and fell over his eyes. The mon arch of the red moon stood over his victim, spinning the hel met around his head with his hands and laughing ceaselessly.
Chapter 16
The Royal Axe
The long night was almost spent when the gnomes dared wake Kitiara. She grunted with pain and got to her feet. "Suffering bloodstained gods," she muttered. "What happened? I feel like somebody's worked me over with a stick."
"Are you sore?" asked Rainspot.
She worked one shoulder around and grimaced. "Very."
"I have a liniment that may be of comfort to you." The gnome searched rapidly through his vest and pants pockets.
He produced a small leather bag with a tight drawstring.
"Here," said Rainspot.
Kitiara accepted the bag and sniffed the closed mouth.
"What is it?" she said suspiciously.
"Dr. Finger's Efficacious Ointment. Also known as the
Self-Administered Massage Balm."
"Well, ah, thanks, Rainspot. I'll give it a try," she said, though she thought it more likely that the liniment would blister her skin than soothe her muscles. She tucked it away.
"Where's Sturm?" Kitiara asked with sudden realization.
"We saw him several hours ago. He was looking for you," said Cutwood.
"Did he find me?"
"How should we know? He told us we couldn't take any of Rapaldo's iron without asking permission, then he went looking for you," said Bellcrank peevishly.
Kitiara rubbed her aching temples. "I remember I went for a walk, came back obviously, but outside of that my mem ory is dry." She coughed. "So's my throat. Is there any water?"
"Rainspot called down a batch this morning," said Sight er. He proffered a full bottle to Kitiara, and she drank deeply. The gnomes watched this process solemnly. When
Kitiara at last lowered the water bottle, Wingover said,
"Lady, we are unanimous in our resolve to be gone from here as quickly as possible. We think the king is dangerous; also, the trail of the Micones grows colder as we wait."
Kitiara surveyed the serious little faces. She'd never seen the gnomes so united and intent. "Very well, let's see if we can hunt down Sturm," she said.
Rapaldo was in his audience hall, flanked by twenty tall tree-men when Kitiara and the gnomes arrived. He was wearing Sturm's horned helmet, padded out with rags so that it wouldn't fall over his eyes. The axe lay nestled in his arms.
He regarded them idly. "I didn't send for you. Go away."
"Cut the lip wagging," Kitiara snapped. She recognized the helmet. "Where's Sturm?"
"Do all of the women of Abanasinia have such bad man ners? That's what comes of letting them carry swords -"
She drew both weapons, sword and dagger, and took one step toward Rapaldo. The Lunitarians promptly raised their glass swords and spear.s and closed ranks around their divine, though mad, king.
"You'll never reach me," Rapaldo said, giggling. "It might be fun to see you try."
"Your Majesty," said Sighter diplomatically, "what has become of our friend Sturm?"
Rapaldo leaned forward and waggled a bony finger at the gnome. "See? Now that's the proper way to ask a question."
He slumped back in his high chair and pronounced, "He is resting. Shortly he will be the new king of Lunitari."
"New king? What's going to happen to the old one?" asked Kitiara with barely concealed fury.
"I'm abdicating. Ten years is long enough to rule, don't you think? I'm going back to Krynn and live among my own kind as an honored and respected shipwright." He licked his fingers to smooth back his lank gray hair. "After my sub jects take back the aerial ship, you all shall remain here, except for whatever gnomes are needed to fly it." He cocked his head toward Kitiara. "I was going to take you with me, but I see now that you are completely unsuited. Heh, heh.
Completely."
"We won't fly you anywhere," said Wingover defiantly.
"I think you will – if I order my faithful subjects to kill you off, one by one. I think you'll fall in with my plan."
"Never!" said Kitiara. The rage was rising in her.
Rapaldo looked up at the nearest tree-man and said, "Kill one of the gnomes. Start with the littlest one." The gnomes closed in a tight circle around Fitter.
The Lunitarian came at them straight on. Kitiara cried,
"Run!" and moved to meet the tree-man. She parried his strong but clumsy cuts. Chips of glass flew each time her steel blade met the glass one, but the haft of the tree-man's weapon was so thick that she didn't think it would snap without a direct crosswise blow. The gibbering gnomes retreated in a body to the door. None of the other Lunitar ians deigned to bother them.
She had managed to pin the tree-man's point to the floor and now she raised her foot and smashed the glass sword in two. The Lunitarian stepped back out of her reach.
Rapaldo applauded. "Ta-ra!" he crowed. "What a show!"
There were too many of them. Though she hated to do it,
Kitiara backed out of the room with her blood boiling.
Rapaldo laughed and whistled loudly.
Out in the passage, Kitiara halted, her face burning furi ously with shame. To be whistled out of a room – what an insult! As if she were some juggler or painted fool!
"We're going back in there," she said tensely. "I'm going to get that lunatic woodcutter if I have to -"
"I have an idea," said Sighter, tugging vainly at her trouser leg.
"Suffering gods, we've got to find Sturm! We don't have time for a silly gnomish idea!"
The gnomes drew back with expressions of hurt. Kitiara hastily apologized, and Sighter went on. "As this place has no roof, why don't we climb the walls? We could walk along the top of the walls and peer down into every room."