not The-River-That-Eats-Itself flow through the Teeth into
something no living creature has seen called The Earth's
Throat?" Again the wizard indicated assent.
"I see." Caz ticked the relevant points off on furry fingers
as he spoke. "Then all we have to do is cross the Swordsward,
find some way of navigating an impossible river, enter what-
ever The Earth's Throat might be, counter whatever dangers
may lie within the mountains themselves, reach the Scuttleteau,
on which dwell the Weavers, and convince them not only that
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we come as friends but that they should help us instead of
eating us."
"Yes, that's right," said Clothahump approvingly.
Caz shrugged broadly. "A simple task for any superman."
He adjusted his monocle. "Which I for one am not. I am
reasonably good at cards, less so at dice, and fast of mouth,
but I am no reckless gambler. What you propose, sir, strikes
me as the height of folly."
"Give me credit for not being a fool with my own life,"
countered Clothahump. "This must be tried. I believe it can
be done. With my guidance you will all survive the journey,
and we will succeed." There was a deep noise, halfway
between a chuckle and a belch. Clothahump threw the hang-
ing famulus a quick glare, and Pog hurriedly looked innocent.
"I'll go, of course," said Jon-Tom readily.
The others gazed at him in astonishment. "Be you daft
too, mate?" said Mudge.
"Daft my ass." He looked down at the otter. "I have no
choice."
"I'll go," announced Flor, smiling magnificently. "I love
a challenge."
"Oh, very well." Caz fitted his monocle carefully, his pink
nose still vibrating, "but it's a fool's game to draw and roll a
brace of twelves after a munde-star pays out."
"I suppose I'll come too," said Talea with a sigh, "be-
cause I've no more good sense than the rest of you."
All eyes turned toward Mudge.
"Right then, quit staring at me, you bloody great twits!"
His voice dropped to a discouraged mutter. "I 'ope when we
find ourselves served up t' the damned Weavers for supper
that I'm the last one on the rottin' menu, so I can at least 'ave
me pleasure o' watchin' 'em eat you arse'oles first!"
"To such base uses we all eventually come, Mudge,"
Jon-Tom told him.
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THE HOUR Or THE GATE
"Don't get philosophical with me, mate. Oh, you've no
choice for sure, not if you've a 'ope o' seeing your proper
'ome again. Old Clothahump's got you by the balls, 'e as.
But as for me, I can be threatened so far and then it don't
matter no more."
"No one is threatening you, otter," said the wizard.
"The 'ell you ain't! I saw the look in your eye, knew I
might as well say yes voluntary-like and 'ave done with it.
You can work thunder and lightnin' but you can't make the
journey yourself, you old fart! You don't fool me. You need
us."
"I have never tried to deny that, Mudge. But I will not
hold you. I have not threatened you. So behind all your noise
and fury, why are you coming?"
The otter stood there and fumed, breathing hard and
glaring first at the turtle, then Jon-Tom, then the others.
Finally he booted an exquisite spittoon halfway across the
room. It bounced ringingly off the far wall as he sat down in a
huff.
"Be billy bedamned if I know!"
"I do," said Talea. "You'd rather travel along with a
bunch of fools like the rest of us than stay here and be
conscripted into the army. With Clothahump and Jon-Tom
gone, the local authorities will treat you like any other bum."
"That's bloody likely," snorted Mudge. "Leave me alone,
then, won't you? I said I'd go, though I'd bet heavy against
us ever comin' back."
"Optimism is better than pessimism, my friend," said Caz
pleasantly.
"You. I don't understand you at all, mate." The otter
shoved back his cap and walked across the carpet to confront
Caz. "A minute ago you said you weren't no reckless gam-
bler. Now you're all for agoin' off on this charmin' little
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suicide trot. And of all o' us, you'd be the one I'd wager on
t* stay clear o' the army's clutches."
The rabbit looked unimpressed. "Perhaps I can see the
larger picture, Mudge."
"Meanin' wot?"
"Meaning that if what our wise friend Clothahump knows
to be true indeed comes to pass, the entire world may be
embarking on that 'trot' with us." He smiled softly. "There
are few opportunities for gambling in a wasteland. I do not
think the Plated Folk will permit recreation as usual if they
are victorious. And I have other reasons."
"Yeah? Wot reasons?"
"They are personal."
"The wisdom of pragmatism," said Clothahump approvingly.
"It was a beneficial day indeed when the river brought you
among us, friend Caz."
"Maybe. But I think I would be still happier if I had not
misjudged the placement of those dice and been forced to
depart so precipitately from my ship. The happiness of the
ignorant is no less so than any other. Ah well." He shrugged
disarmingly. "We are all of us caught up in momentous
events beyond our ability to change."
They agreed with him, and none realized he was referring
as much to his previously mentioned personal reasons as to
the coming cataclysm....
The city council provided a three-axle wagon and a dray
team of four matched yellow-and-black-striped lizards, plus
ample supplies. Some among the council were sorry to see
the wizard and spellsinger depart, but there were others who
were just as happy to watch two powerful magicians leave
their city.
Talea handled the reins of the wagon while Flor, Jon-Tom,
Mudge, Clothahump, and Caz sorted living quarters out of
the back of the heavily loaded vehicle. Thick canvas could be
34
THE HOUR OF THE GATE
drawn across the top to keep out the rain. Ports cut in the
slanting wooden walls provided ventilation and a means for
firing arrows at any attacker.
Aveticus, resplendent in a fresh uniform and as coldly
correct as ever, offered to provide a military escort at least
part of the way. Clothahump declined gracefully, insisting that
the less attention they attracted the better their chance for an
uneventful traverse of the Swordsward.
Anyway, they had the best protection possible in the form
of Falameezar. The dragon would surely frighten away any
possible assailants, intelligent or otherwise.
It took the dray lizards a day or two to overcome their
nervousness at the dragon's presence, but soon they were
cantering along on their strong, graceful legs. Bounding on
six solid rubber wheels the wagon fairly flew out of the city.
They passed small villages and farms for another several
days, until at last no sign of habitation lay before them.
The fields of golden grain had given way to very tall light
green grasses that stretched to the ends of the northern and
eastern horizons. Dark wintry rain clouds hovered above the
greenery, and there were rumblings of distant thunder.
Off to their right the immense western mountain range
known as Zaryt's Teeth rose like a wall from the plains. Its
lowermost peaks rose well above ten thousand feet while
me highest towered to twenty-five thousand. Dominating all
and visible for weeks to come was the gigantic prong of
Brokenbone Peak, looking like the ossified spine of some
long-fossilized titan.
It was firmly believed by many that in a cave atop that
storm-swept peak dwelt the Oracle of All Knowledge. Even