Llewellyn gazed into the blazing fire. "It is not that I do not trust you, my friend, Indio the Black. I cannot tell you that, for it is in a trader's interest to keep at least one item of barter in his sack."
"Then you will not tell me?"
"Better than that: I shall lead you to them-and to the treasure. Actions, they say-although, again, I do not exactly know who 'they* are-speak louder than words."
"Thereby assuring your indispensability," Indio said with a laugh. "You are indeed a shrewd man."
The two men again shook hands; then Indio called for food and drink and held the key high over the fire, watching the light twinkle from the green stones. Llewellyn sat quietly, planning how he would spend the fortune they would find in the mountains.
An hour later, Llewellyn was reclining on the ground under an elm tree, wrapped in a scratchy burlap blanket. But he hardly noticed the fabric. He knew that soon all would go his way.
In his semiconsciousness, he mused back on the most unusual two days just past. First, he'd had the misfortune of running into the Steadfast Order of Shortfellow Swashbucklers, better known throughout the Shining South as the Buckleswashers. They had been in the mountains north of the West Wall, seeking some ancient treasure. And since he was in the vicinity-and since Llewellyn the Loqua-cious's reputation was of a man of much valuable knowledge-the group delayed him and attempted to obtain information regarding the whereabouts of the lost treasure.
But, as usual, the Loquacious One was able to learn more than he taught. He told them he had heard of the treasure. He learned that a key containing three jade stones was necessary to unlock the treasure chest. He told them he had heard that the treasure was in this vicinity. He learned that they had found it; indeed, it was located in a cave barely a hundred yards from their present location. He told them he would assist them in finding the treasure. He learned that they had one of the stones, but not the key itself, nor the two additional stones. After many threats on the part of the Buckleswashers and many promises and vows on his part, they released him on condition that he would return in three days-or they would come looking for him.
Then he was summoned psionically to Zalathorn. Wordlessly, Zalathorn probed the Talkative One's mind and learned what he needed to know. The wizard, content with his store of riches, had no desire for this lost treasure. He provided Llewellyn with the full knowledge of the trea-sure, the key, and the three jade stones. Zalathorn thought it would be amusing to watch as the quest for the treasure unfolded before him. So he set Llewellyn in the vicinity of Indio Black's band of treasure-seekers.
And now, well, here Llewellyn was, content (relatively), sound (thankfully), and safe (miraculously). And almost (no-completely) asleep.
The next morning the troop awoke at the break of dawn, and by late afternoon, they were within a quarter mile of the treasure.
Llewellyn, who with Indio walked ahead of the other eight in the band, motioned for the group to halt. Indio repeated the order vocally, privately annoyed at his partner's presumption.
"We shall, I think, be able to acquire the treasure with a minimum of fuss and violence if you leave the complex machinations to me, I must say," Llewellyn declared.
Indio looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"
"Simply that I have considered all the options and various possibilities, and I have a plan."
"Oh? Have you, great military leader?" Indio retorted.
Llewellyn pretended insult. "Very well, I shall remain quiet, and let you handle everything. After all, you know where the treasure is!"
Indio began to relent. "Fine. Tell us what…"
"You know where the Buckleswashers are…"
"I don't. Tell us…"
"You know how…"
Indio placed his hand on his sword. "By all the fiends in the Shining South, will you not shut up and tell us your plan?"
Llewellyn frowned. "How can a man shut up and speak at the same time? It's a paradox to be pondered, I must say."
"Fine! Fine!" Indio shouted. "Don't shut up. Speak. Speak! Tell us your plan."
Finally, Llewellyn relented. "This is what I have in mind. I will go to the Buckleswashers with the key containing the two stones…"
"Like hell you will," shouted one of Indio's troop, whose name was Ckleef Vann. "Do you take us for fools?"
Llewellyn lied when he answered: "No."
"Go on," Indio said warily, "but this had better be good."
"I will convince them to give me a cut of the treasure, as I have done with you. When we put the third stone in the key and unlock the treasure, you and your very able troop will rush them and take the treasure."
"Why don't we just rush them now?' another of the troop, known only as Terrence of the Hill, insisted.
Llewellyn turned to him. "Because they, at best, might hide the stone and, at worst, steal the key from you and kill you all. If you follow my plan, and I do so hope you do, you gain not only the element of surprise, but also the fact that all three stones will be in the key."
Indio considered the plan, but asked, "What if they kill you and go to the treasure?"
"My presence or absence doesn't change matters for you, can't you see? You can still overpower them." As an afterthought, Llewellyn added, "Of course, my presence requires your paying me my twenty-five percent."
"Twenty!" corrected Indio.
"Oh, yes, I had forgotten."
Indio strutted around for a moment, then agreed to the plan. "This had better work! I go against my better judgment. But you have convinced me."
He handed Llewellyn the key with the two stones.
"Good luck, partner."
Taking the key, Llewellyn said, "Good luck to you. Follow me, but keep your distance. If they should spot any of you, our odds of surviving this adventure will be minimized-if not obliterated in totality-especially the odds related to yours truly."
With those words, he marched away. Indio's men followed, trying to figure out what the Loquacious One had just said.
"Who goes there?" called an unfriendly voice.
"It is Llewellyn, returned to you, don't you see, as promised!"
"So it is!" From high in a tree dropped the halfling, Osco. His cheek scar was more hideous than Llewellyn had remembered. "Follow me. The others await you."
In a few moments, the pair marched into the clearing where the Buckleswashers had pitched camp. They were sitting around a fire, identical in dress and habitat and mood to the halflings he had just left. They stood as Osco and Llewellyn approached.
"So, you've come back," Bungobar Talltankard exclaimed. "It's a damned good thing you have."
"Indeed," agreed Dimvel Stoutkeg. "For if you had not returned/ Your effigy we would have burned/ And then this burning blazing fire/ Would've been your actual funeral pyre."
"Enough singing, already!" Carthax Nayusiyim, the gnome of the group, yelled. "You and those songs! You'll drive me mad!"
Insulted, Dimvel responded, "You are mad! And an ugly little gnome, besides!"
Carthax reached for his rod of smiting, but Talltankard intervened. "Enough! We've no time for this bickering. We're all on edge because this ever-speaking bargainer has kept us waiting."
"Yes, but I have returned, don't you know," Llewellyn said. "And, most remarkably, with the key."