Escalla popped out of her illusions and bent over in her leathers, slapping at her athletic little rear. “Faerie, bright boy! Seethat lift and clench? That’s faerie derriere! Read it and weep!”
The baron seemed tired of the whole business. Taking another drink, he gave a sharp, annoyed hiss and flung himself back into the depths of his throne.
“It’s absurd that Blackrazor could ever have been here.” Thebaron shook his head briskly, dismissing the whole idea. “To have Whelm, Wave,and Blackrazor all together in one city again is an unlikely circumstance.”
The Justicar lifted up his head. He seemed to be in a poor humor. “This has happened before?”
“These three weapons were all stolen once before. At thattime, they were stored in the City of Greyhawk.” The baron waved a hand asthough brushing the thought away. “A wizard stole them. Some adventurers gotthem back. It was all a few years before the wars.”
Escalla lounged in the middle of the table, ostentatiously made herself comfortable and gave a weary sigh.
“Oooh, I can see this one coming from a mile off. Please, do tell the details.”
The baron merely drank more wine.
One of his scholars cleared his throat, decided that this was the perfect time to assert himself, and assumed a pedantic tone. “The hammerWhelm, the trident Wave, and the sword Blackrazor resided in the City of Greyhawk once. The weapons were stolen by the wizard Keraptis, who sought to demonstrate his superiority over local heroes by placing the weapons at the center of a maze and daring one and all to come and take them.” The scholarshrugged. “A powerful sorcerer, but a man of somewhat childish proclivities.”
Focused upon his mission, the Justicar finally found himself a chair, turned it the wrong way about, and sat down. In the hours since the riots, he had spoken long with the local law officers. Trigol’s librarian hadheld his position for only three years, having come here from Greyhawk some time before. The man had settled in Trigol, had finished what he came for, and now had fled. The librarian had to be found. Thus far, the only lead was the librarians fixation on the legend of Keraptis.
The Justicar leaned his chin upon his folded hands. “Tell meabout Keraptis.”
“Ah.” The scholar pulled at his nose with a superior air.“Thirteen hundred years ago, Keraptis was one of the region’s major sorcerers, agenius, though quite power mad. He ruled a considerable empire, slowly draining the lands with greed. He had some rather absurd theories about absorbing the essence of others to enhance his own abilities. When he began to butcher his subjects for the purpose of massed human sacrifice, the people revolted. He escaped-and there we lose him.” The scholar shrugged. “He disappeared for anentire millennium. Then for reasons unknown, he returned ten years ago to Greyhawk to conduct the theft of three magic weapons: Whelm, Wave, and Blackrazor.”
Jus poured himself more wine and said, “Legend said he diedyears ago.”
“Rumors of his death seem to have been somewhat precipitous.”The scholar steepled his fingertips. “However, he was quite definitely slainduring the Greyhawk wars in a battle seven years ago. He was decapitated by a vorpal blade while fighting as an ally of Iuz.”
The Justicar fixed the other man with his dire gaze and asked, “Where is the body?”
“It was destroyed.” The scholar raised one eyebrow in asuperior little air. “This is no mere story. It is history! There are definiterelics of the event. A lock of Keraptis’ hair is encased in a crystal cylinderand kept in our own library’s vaults.”
Escalla clapped her hands and leaped importantly up onto her feet. “All right, let us take it as fact that the big K is deader than a dwarvenfashion plate, but we do still have a crime! Your librarian has already told J-man and myself that he wants us to retrieve three weapons in some kind of weird little test he’s set for us. So let us assume that your librarian hasalready raced off with your toys and put them in hiding somewhere.”
The senior law officer opened out his hands and said, “Why?”
“Because your librarian has a real thing about Keraptis!” Thefaerie circled her fingertips madly beside her skull. “This guy likes to readabout Keraptis, write about Keraptis-now he even dresses up as Keraptis!Call it a wild guess, but maybe he even wants to be Keraptis!”
The high priest of Bleredd sank down into the collar of his robes and thought.
Beside him, the temple’s herald mused then said, “Why wouldanyone seek to copy a dead sorcerer?”
“Because he’s a loon!” Escalla flung open her hands. “Thisguy has a serious Keraptis fixation! Maybe he wants to recreate the big K’s greatest joke? Maybe he wants to go one better and out do the guy?” Thefaerie gave a shrug. “Maybe the guy really is Keraptis? Who knows?”
“Keraptis cannot return.” The baron’s scholar rappedhis knuckles on the tabletop. “His remains were destroyed and cannot bereanimated. To clone the wizard, someone would need a sample from his actual body.”
Escalla gave a nasty little snort. “You mean like a lock ofKeraptis’ hair? Like the one in your library’s vaults? The library where oursorcerer worked for the past few years? Think, people!”
Several of the priests turned pale and began an embarrassed study of the tabletop before them. The senior priests simply seethed.
With Cinders’ hide rippling sheer black upon his back, theJusticar turned to face one of the hall’s painted walls. A mural of the entirecontinent gleamed and glittered in the lamplight. Allain joined him and stared at the painted plains and hills.
The Justicar glared at the wall as though sheer force of will could project him at his prey. “Where were the weapons taken the last time theydisappeared?”
“Here.” The lawman pointed to a position almost three hundredmiles to the north. “White Plume Mountain, a volcano on an ash plain. It’s awasteland now. The bandit kingdoms there were annihilated during the war with Iuz. We’re trying to repopulate the zone with colonies.”
The mountain marked on the map was well past the northern borders of the County of Urnst. It adjoined the region of new settlements, the regions that relied upon wagon trains for food and winter clothes. The Justicar stared at the map, then settled his black sword, already planning his route.
“This was a stronghold of Keraptis?”
“Extensive. The first exploring party hardly scratched thesurface.”
The Justicar grunted as he ran a hand across the map. White Plume Mountain was dangerously close to the settlements that were reseeding the wilderness. If the librarian was setting up the mountain as his kingdom, then the colonies would be a danger to him-too many eyes to see, too many troops outon patrol…. The raids on the supply convoys were finally explained.
“He’s at White Plume Mountain. He’s been trying to depopulatethe nearby border to keep newcomers away. Keraptis may have left considerable relics there that he intends to exploit.” The ranger’s deep voice drove throughthe facts one by one. “Yet he has now almost deliberately revealed himself.Why?”
A priest hissed petulantly from the conference table. “Thisis all merely supposition! There is no proof that this librarian-wizard ever took Wave and Whelm!”
“The first step is to search White Plume Mountain.” TheJusticar turned away from the gigantic map. “If the weapons are found andreturned, then your proof is there. You will have no further cause to threaten war against each other’s temples.”
Bleredd’s high priest looked up sharply and said, “Youpropose to find the weapons?”
“I propose to bring this librarian to justice for crimesagainst the innocent.” Huge and sinister, the Justicar seemed to breathe in thescent of prey. “In White Plume Mountain, I can find him.”