Staying on Gleep's back was rough enough. Trying to keep my seat while throwing or catching a ball proved to be nearly impossible. Gleep was no help. He preferred chasing the ball himself or standing stock still while scratching himself with a hind leg to following orders from me. I finally had to cheat a little, resorting to magik to keep me upright on my mount's back. A little levitation, a little flying, and suddenly my riding skills improved a hundred fold. If Aahz suspected I was using something other than my sense of balance, he didn't say anything.
The problem of catching and throwing the ball was solved by the addition of a staff to my argument. Chumly uprooted a hefty sized sapling, and the general used his ever-present belt axe to trim away branches and roots. The result was an eleven foot club with which I could either knock the ball along the ground or swat it out of the air if someone had thrown or kicked it aloft. The staff was a bit heavier than I would have liked, but the extra weight moved the ball farther each time I hit it. Of course, I used a little magik to steer the ball, too, so I didn't miss often and it usually went where I wanted it to go.
Gleep, on the other hand, went where he wanted to go. While my club occasionally helped both to set him in motion and to institute minor changes in his direction once he was moving, total control had still eluded me when the day finally arrived for our departure.
The five of us (six including Gleep) gathered in the center of our practice meadow and said our goodbyes to Julie.
"I'm sorry I can't come with you, boys," he declared mournfully, "but I'm not as young as I used to be, you know?"
"Don't worry," Aahz waved, "we'll be back soon. You can come to our victory celebration."
"There you go again," Julie scowled, "I'm warning you, don't celebrate until after the battle. After five hundred years..."
"Right, Julie," Aahz interrupted hastily. "You've told us before. We'd better get going now or we'll miss the game. Wouldn't want to lose by default."
With that, he checked to see we were all in position and triggered the D-Hopper.
A moment later, we were back in Jahk.
Chapter Twenty-Two:
"No matter what the game, no matter what the rules, the same rules apply to both sides!"
-HOYLE'SLAW
THE stadium had undergone two major changes since the last time Aahz and I were here.
First, the configuration of the field had been changed. Instead of a rectangle, the chalk lines now outlined a triangle with netted goals at each corner. I assumed that was to accommodate a three-way instead of a two-way match.
The second change was people. Remember how I said I didn't even want to imagine what the stadium would be like full of people? Well, the reality dwarfed anything my imagination could have conjured up. Where I had envisioned neat rows of people to match the military precision of the seats, the stands were currently a chaotic mass of color and motion. I don't know why they bothered providing seats. As far as I could tell, nobody was sitting down.
A stunned hush had fallen over the crowd when we appeared. This was understandable. Beings don't appear out of thin air very often, as we had assembled.
At Aahz's instruction, I had withheld any disguises from our team in order to get maximum psychological impact from our normal appearance. We got it.
The crowd gaped at us, while we gaped at the crowd. Then they recovered their composure and a roar trumpeted forth from a thousand throats simultaneously. The bedlam was deafening.
"They don't seem very intimidated," I observed dryly.
I didn't expect to be heard over the din, but I had forgotten Aahz's sharp ears.
"Ave Caesar. Salutes e moratorium. Eh, kid?" he grinned.
I didn't have the foggiest what he was talking about, but I grinned back at him. I was tired of staring blankly every time he made a joke.
"Hey, boss. We've got company," Gus called, jerking his head toward one side of the stadium.
"Two companies, actually," Chumly supplied, staring in the opposite direction.
Swiveling my head around, I discovered they were both right. Massha was bearing down on us from one side, while old Graybeard was waddling forward from the other. It seemed both Veygus and Ta-hoe wanted words with us.
"Hell-o boys," Massha drawled, arriving first. "Just wanted to wish you luck with your... venture."
This might have sounded strange coming from a supporter of the opposition. It did to me. Then I remembered that Massha thought we were out to neutralize Quigley's "demon." Well, in a way we were.
Aahz, as usual, was way ahead of me.
"Don't worry, Massha," he grinned. "We've got everything well in hand."
It never ceases to amaze me the ease with which my mentor can lie.
"Just be sure you stay out of it," he continued smoothly. "It's a rather delicate plan, and any miscellaneous moving parts could foul things up."
"Don't worry your green little head about that," she winked. "I know when I'm outclassed. I was just kinda hoping you'd introduce me to the rest of your team."
I suddenly realized that throughout our conversation, she hadn't taken her eyes off our teammates. Specifically, she was staring sideways at Hugh Badaxe. This didn't change as Aahz made the proper introductions.
"Massha, this is Gus."
"Charmed, madam," the gargoyle responded.
"And Chum-er-Crunch."
"When fight? Crunch tikes fighting," Chumly declared, dropping into his troll act.
Massha didn't bat an eye. She was busy running both of them up and down the general's frame.
"And this is Hugh Badaxe."
With a serpentine glide, Massha was standing close to the general.
"So pleased to meet cha, Hugh ... you don't mind if I call you Hugh, do you?" she purred.
"Harmmph ... I... that is," Badaxe stammered, visibly uncomfortable.
I could sympathize with him. Having Massha focus her attention on one was disquieting to say the least. Fortunately, help arrived just then in the form of the Ta-hoe delegate.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he chortled, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Hello, Massha."
"Actually," she returned icily, "I was just leaving."
She leaned forward and murmured something in the general's ear before departing for her seat in the stands. Whatever it was, Badaxe flushed bright red and avoided our eyes.
"We were afraid you wouldn't arrive in time,"
Graybeard continued, ignoring Massha's exit. "Wouldn't want to disappoint the fans with a default, would we? When are you expecting the rest of your team?"
"The rest of our team?" I frowned. "I thought the rules only called for five players plus a riding mount."
"That's right," Graybeard replied, "but ... oh, well, I admire your confidence. So there're only the five of you, eh? Well, well. That will change the odds a bit."
"Why?" I demanded suspiciously.
"Are the edges on that thing sharp?" the spokesman asked, spying the general's axe.
"Razor," Badaxe replied haughtily.
"But he won't use it on anyone," I added hastily, suddenly remembering the "no edged weapons" rule. I wasn't sure what the general's reaction would be if anyone tried to take his beloved axe away from him.
"Oh, I have no worries on that score," Graybeard responded easily. "As with all games, the crossbowmen will be quick to eliminate any player who chooses to ignore the rules."
He waved absently at the sidelines. We looked in the indicated direction, and saw for the first time that the field was surrounded by crossbowmen, alternately dressed in the blue and yellow of Ta-hoe and the red and white of Veygus. This was a little wrinkle the Geek had neglected to mention. He had told us about the rules, but not how they were enforced.
At the same time, I noticed two things which I had previously missed while scanning the stands.