"You might say that," said Groag's voice.
"Something in the temple?" His voice caught. Something ugly and fiendish and heading his way?
"No," said Groag's voice.
"Something at camp, then. With Bunniswot and the others?" Toede felt a chill creeping up his spine.
"Yes," said the voice from above.
"Groag," said Toede, "I really enjoy playing 'ask-me-another' with you. Just tell me what happened."
Another silence, and Toede was just about to launch into a string of invectives aimed at his hobgoblin partner, when Groag said in a strangled voice, "You happened, Toede."
"Pardon?"
"You happened." The voice grew stronger, sounding more like Groag every moment. The extremely irritated Groag Toede had left by the fireside the previous evening. "I survived your last little encounter among the living, just barely, and pulled my life back together. Yet every time you show up, everything falls apart again." It sounded as though he were on the verge of weeping.
"Groag, I did come back for you. Didn't I? It's not as if I were going to leave you among the gnolls." Toede tried to give his voice the consistency of buttermilk. If Groag cracked up, he'd never get out of here.
"You came back," came the accusation, "to make matters worse."
"Worse?" shouted Toede. "I foxed Charka into helping us. I got hot food in everyone's bellies. I found this old temple for Bunniswot, and you say I've made matters worse. How?"
A very long silence this time. "By being you. Just by being Toede."
Toede waited for Groag to pick up the thread and explain himself, and after half an eternity the hobgoblin did. "You left Renders and the rest of us behind when you went off haring with Bunniswot. While you were gone, Renders told more stories about the Heroes of the Lance. He also told the story of your death. The first one, with the kender and the dragon."
Again silence, another eternity. Then Groag picked up the story again. "Renders told about the kender and the dragon and your disastrous hunt. And Charka said that Renders was talking about you, King of Little Dry Frogs." Groag chuckled, not a pleasant sound.
"Listen, Groag," said Toede, "Whatever Charka says…"
"Don't interrupt," said Groag, loudly and surprisingly sharply. "Renders said that Charka had to be mistaken. He said it in a way that made Charka feel stupid about it. Charka argued, and soon the two were going at it heatedly. You've seen Charka's style of argument."
A sinking feeling gripped Toede in the stomach and would not let go.
"Then Bunniswot arrived with news of your discovery…" said Groag.
The sinking feeling became sunken. "Charka was angered that you two had gone into the necromancer's territory. Renders said that Charka had mistaken you for Toede. Bunniswot launched into a loud tirade about how misunderstood Toede had been and anyway no hairy dog-man was going to tell him and you where to go. And then…"
"Charka hit Bunniswot?" Toede suggested. There was a sigh above. "Square in the face. Bunniswot hit the ground like a sack of dung." Then sobbing. Toede was surprised, as he did not think that Groag and the scholar were that close.
When Groag continued, his voice had regained its steely tone. "So Bunniswot was lying on the ground, bleeding from the nose and mouth, and Renders got angry and pushed Charka. And Charka pushed back, and Renders fell over backward.
"Then Charka stopped, and realized what he had done-pushing a powerful wizard around. Remember, you told him Renders was this great, flesh-boiling wizard? Except the wizard didn't react as a wizard would, throwing fireballs, with lightning dancing off his beard.
He reacted like an old man who'd been pushed down."
Toede finished the thought. "And Charka realized he'd been fooled…"
Groag continued, and Toede imagined him now sitting at the edge of the hole, staring into the darkness. "Charka ordered the gnolls who were still in camp to go out and gather the ones who had gone hunting. Renders went after them, to 'set things right' in his words."
"Charka will decorate a stick with his head," said Toede to himself.
"Yes," said Groag, and Toede was surprised he had heard him. "And then he will return and beat the rest of the scholars to death with it. Bunniswot was in no shape to travel, so he gave me the rope and told me how to find you." A pause. "When I last saw him he was digging up his papers. Said he was going to throw them on the fire. His shirt was drenched in his own blood."
Groag's voice had become softer as his tale wound down. "They're all going to die, you know, and it's all your fault," he said at last.
Toede frowned in the darkness. "Now wait a moment, that can't be right. I wasn't even there!"
"Exactly!" shouted Groag. "You weren't there! You were out getting in trouble elsewhere! Were you there, you would have come up with some glib lie and forced it down their gullible throats, and they would have thanked you for it, and they would keep believing you until you betrayed them sometime later on."
"Groag, I…"
"You're always abandoning people, either leaving them to fend for themselves-or dying-and you don't even have the decency to stay dead!" Groag was bellowing now, and with all the echoes and reverberation Toede had a hard time making out his words. "It's not a question of if you will betray someone. It's a question of when!"
Groag was bubbling with rage. "You think this new nobility scam will bring you back into power, but I won't
let anyone else die because of your venal stupidity!"
Groag said a few other things that were lost in the echoes. His tirade ran out of gas finally. All Toede could hear was heavy breathing. "Finished?" asked Toede. "I suppose I am," said Groag in the darkness. "Then throw the rope down," said Toede. A long pause, broken only by gurgling noises. "Have you heard even one word I've said?"
"I've heard every word you said, and they're well-said words." Toede took a deep breath, feeling his tongue physically rebel at the next words. "I want you to know… I'm sorry. I was"-he felt his stomach coil-"wrong. I was wrong."
There was no response from Groag, so Toede pressed on. "I've been wrong in the past. I'll admit it. So full of myself and sure of everything that I led you into disaster, and paid for it with my life. Twice now. I'm sorry. I was wrong. Now throw the rope down."
A silence continued at the top. Toede was reminded of his nonconversation with a horse the day before. That at least had a resolution.
"You mention the scholars," continued Toede, shifting tone slightly. "We both know that the only thing that can save them is me. Only I am smart enough, and cagey enough, and yes, greedy and venal enough to pull it off. Only I can deal with Charka and the gnolls. Otherwise they'll die, Groag, unless you toss down the rope." "I… I…" Then silence.
Toede wished he could command, could yell, could scream Groag into obedience. No, this was the only way.
Toede took another deep breath, and the next lie came more freely. "I wish I were more like you, sometimes. A-dap-tive. I want to make things better now. For you and for me. Throw the rope down, Groag," said Toede, the tiniest bit of steel creeping into his voice.
"I suppose you're right," said the small voice at the top.
"It's just been so confusing-you, the kender, the humans. I mean, who knows what's right anymore?"
"I understand," said Toede carefully. "Just throw the rope down."
"Oh," said the voice above.
Toede missed the 'kay' that should have followed it. After a moment, he ventured, "Groag?"
Groag's voice was now a whisper, "There's someone here."
Toede felt the return of a glacial fear. "Get out of there, Groag! Come back for me later. Can you hear me? Get out of there." Images of some Abyss-spawned fiend bearing down on his former courtier (rescuing rope in hand) coursed through his hobgoblin mind.