The Goblin Tower

Jorian had dropped his sword during his dive. Two strokes took him to where Boso thrashed, bobbing under water and out again with each frantic effort. Jorian hooked an arm under the sergeant-at-arms's chin, secured a crushing hold, and began swimming on his back towards the shore.

A few strokes and he touched down. He dragged Boso to shore and dropped the man on his back in the mud. Boso lay with his eyes closed, coughing, spitting water, and breathing in racking gasps. Then Jorian looked around.

The Goblin Tower had collapsed into a vast heap of stone blocks. From under a few of the nearer blocks, human hands and feet protruded. All around the isle, hundreds of magicians and their helpers stood in the water, up to their ankles, knees, waists, or even chins. Some poked among the ruins of the castle. Injured persons moaned.

The rain had slackened to a steady drizzle. Nearby, Vanora stood naked at the edge of the lake, wringing the water out of her flimsy garment.

"Jorian!" He looked up to see Karadur and Goania wading towards him.

"What in the forty-nine Mulvanian hells happened?" Jorian cried.

Karadur was too winded and frightened to do more than gasp, but Goania explained: "You know how the Goblin Tower got its name? Well, when Vorko worked his counter-spell, this nullified not only Aello's protective spell, but also the original spell put upon the goblins by Synelius, back in the days of the tyrant Charenzo. Since the castle had been partly built of these stones, when they were changed back into goblins, the walls collapsed because there were so many gaps in them. Most of the goblin stones seem to have been on the south side, and that is why the towers fell this way."

"I saw one of the things whilst I was up on the bridge, fighting with Boso," said Jorian.

"There must have been many hundreds of them in the lower parts of the castle."

"Where are they now?"

"Karadur released the demon Gorax from his ring and set Gorax on the goblins, whereupon they all whisked back to the Ninth Plane. I think they were worse frightened by awakening from their sleep of enchantment in the midst of the collapsing Tower than we were frightened of them."

"How did you escape?"

"When Karadur told what he knew of Vorko's counter-spell, old Aello instantly knew what was up. He screamed to us to get out of the Tower instanter. Most of us got out, although some were caught, and some were struck by falling stones after they had left the edifice. Luckily, the water on the other side is shallow all the way to shore. Vorko and his minions seem to have been amongst those destroyed; at least, I have seen nought of them."

"And Aello?"

"Dead in the ruins, I fear. He went to the kitchen and the servants' quarters to get those folk out, too, and was last seen poking about there to make sure that none was left behind. But what is this?" She indicated Boso, who was beginning to revive.

"I dragged him out of the lake. He would have slain Vanora up on the roof, out of jealousy. I was fighting with him on the bridge when the castle crumbled."

"Fighting him to death, and then you saved his life?"

Jorian clapped a hand to his forehead. "By Imbal's brazen balls! Why do I do these stupid things? Oh, well, I didn't really crave to kill the poor halfwit." Glancing about, he glimpsed a dull, metallic gleam in the shallow water. It was Boso's sword, lying in the mud. Jorian picked it up and shoved it into his own scabbard.

"My own is out in the lake somewhere," he said. "Will you go to law with me about it, Boso, or shall we forget the whole sorry business?"

Boso, now sitting up, shook his head and mumbled: "I hurt my back."

"Well, back or no back, get up! We have work to do." Jorian led the groaning Boso around the isle to where the magicians, standing up to their knees and waists in the water, were loading injured persons into rowboats that had come out to pick them up.

"Vanora!" said Goania severely. "Get some clothes on, child, ere you catch your death of cold."

When evening had fallen on Metouro, Jorian sat in the tavern that Vorko had occupied, with Karadur and Goania. Karadur had lost his turban in the collapse of the Goblin Tower and, feeling uncomfortable without it, had wound a strip of rag around his head as a substitute. Boso and Vanora, the latter wearing a new dress purchased that day by Goania, sat by themselves two tables away. Jorian said:

"Now I've done what your Altruists demanded, Doctor, even if your cursed Kist is buried in the ruins of the Goblin Tower, where at least it won't cause trouble for a long time to come. Since I have performed my part of the bargain, how do I get this geas lifted?"

"It is already lifted, my son. Since Vorko imposed it, his death cancelled it. But we must consider your future. If you would become my apprentice in fact as well as in name, I could make a prime magician out of you in fifteen or twenty years—provided I pass not to my next incarnation in the interim."

"No, thank you. I have my own plans, the first of which is to get back my dear little Estrildis."

"How will you accomplish that, without the help of magic?"

"I know not, old boy, but I shall find a way. During our journey, I observed that when I relied upon my own mundane powers, I usually succeeded; whereas, when I leant on the supernatural, I usually ended up worse off than when I started.

"I used to think that magic was the key to life's charade,
And therefore of its learned devotees I sought the aid:
Of necromancers whom the ghosts of men of yore obeyed.

Of hoary seers who, they said, the future could foretell,
Of sorcerers who to their lairs could summon spirits fell,
And wizards who could utter many a dark and deadly spell.

But when it was all done, I found a better spell was made
By counting on my own resource of eye and arm and blade,
My native reason, and between my knees a sturdy jade.

So now I'm through with horoscopes and pentacles as well,
And words to summon spirits who in strange dimensions dwell.
To every kind of spookery, I bid a last farewell!

"Horses will play the fiddle before I count on your arcane arts again."

Karadur began to argue: "The most ignorant man is he who knows it all. Without my arcane arts, you would have no head on your shoulders to harbor that wit whereof you boast. An ethical man gives just credit to—"

But Goania cut him off: "Let the lad be, old colleague. His mind is made up and from his point of view, rightly. When he attains our age and the blood runs less hotly in his veins, he may find our mysteries more beguiling. What shall be your first step, O Jorian? The Faceless Five demand that we all quit Metouro on the morrow, ere we destroy the city by another ill-directed enchantment."

Jorian grinned. "I have a horse and a sword—both of middling quality—but no money. My first task is to get some of the last-named, and for that I shall need a hat. My fur cap and my wizard's headpiece are buried in the ruins of the Tower."

"A hat?" said Karadur vaguely. "I suppose you might find one in Vorko's room, upstairs. But how can a hat—"

"You shall see." Jorian rose and started for the stair.

"Jorian!" called Vanora. "Wait." She hurried across the room and spoke in a low voice. "Leaving us?"

"Soon."

"Well—ah—I am, as you know, a tough and useful traveling companion—"