Tina Daniell: Maquesta Kar-Thon

"What do you think, Maquesta Kar-Thon?"

Lendle spoke deliberately, slightly formally, as gnomes are wont to do when talking to members of other races-even, as was the case in this instance, to someone he had known since she was a rambunctious child.

"What do you think?" he persisted, his black eyes wide and gleaming.

Maq knew by the jittery way Lendle was fingering the shiny cylinders and slender iron rods at the peddler's stall, coupled with-for him-his agonizingly slow speech, that whatever the objects were, the gnome wanted them with an almost desperate intensity.

Maq craned her neck to see if she could catch a glimpse of her father's ship from the rough row of stalls that passed for a marketplace in the bustling minotaur port of Lacynos.

"I don't think anything about those things-what-ever they are. You know that, Lendle. If it doesn't have to do with masts and sails, I'm lost. Now come on. We've spent enough time here. We must get back to the ship. There's still much to be done to prepare for the race tomorrow." A hint of exasperation was creeping into Maquesta's voice.

But Lendle seemed not to have heard her. The gnome stood, almost transfixed, his stubby, deft fingers poking, probing, prodding, feeling every bit of the objects.

Maq sighed and decided to take another approach. "By all means, Lendle. These seem to be just what you need. I'm sure you can't do without them. In fact, I think you should buy them… if you think you can find the coppers to pay for them," she added under her breath. "After all these weeks without a decent job for the Perechon , I don't know how you have any coins left. I certainly don't."

"Yes. Yes, Maquesta Kar-Thon. I believe you are correct. These are just what I need." With that, Lendle reached into the sack he carried on his shoulder and pulled out a flat, rectangular leather box containing a number of small drawers and compartments. He pushed several colorful buttons on its top. Beaming, he explained to Maq that this invention of his had a drawer that would be opening any moment now-containing the exact amount of coppers the peddler quoted him. Instead, however, the box's bottom fell out, and the gnome's small cache of coins spilled onto the muddy roadway.

"Ohdearohdearohdear!" Lendle gushed, returning to his normal gnomish talking pace.

Maq stooped to help Lendle retrieve the coppers and watched as the suspicious stall owner, a stout human woman, examined each coin before handing over several rods and cylinders. Maq imagined the merchant didn't have much experience dealing with customers other than minotaurs. Members of foreign races were a rarity on the island of Mithas-unless they were slaves, in which case they weren't in a position to buy anything, or they were confined to lowly occupations, like peddlers. By the time she handed over the objects, Lendle had reassembled his mechanical wallet and stowed it away in his sack. In all the years Maq had known the gnome, he had never designed a device that performed as intended.

She steered him toward the dock where they had left the longboat they used to get from the Perechon to shore. The gnome was fairly skipping with excitement, moving so quickly through the crowd that Maq lengthened her stride a bit to keep up.

They made an interesting pair: the tall, lithe woman with ebony skin and curling hair the shade of midnight, and the diminutive, stocky, gnome with nut-brown skin and a mane the color of snow. As they made their way through the unpaved streets lined with massive, if unimaginative, stone buildings, few of the hulking minotaurs they passed gave them a second glance. In Maq's experience these bestial creatures had no interest in or use for other races-except as slave labor or sacrificial warriors in their gladiatorial entertainments.

Maq suppressed a shudder. She had no use for minotaurs either, and she was not especially fond of their city. Her attention, however, was caught by one of the city's natives striding toward her from the direction of the harbor. His curving horns shone as if they had been polished, and a gold hoop was affixed to the tip of one. The reddish color of the fur that covered his body was accentuated by the flowing red cape he wore thrown back over his massive shoulders. Straps of a leather harness crisscrossed his chest, holding a variety of knives and small axes with finely carved handles. The leather skirt that fit snugly around his slender haunches was studded with green and blue gems that winked in the sun. A sturdy chain trailed from his hand and ended in a thick collar around the neck of a creature Maq had never seen before. About the size of a dog, it looked like a giant rat, only with no fur or tail. It had six legs, and an upper jaw full of wide, deadly looking teeth protruded over its lower lip.

The thing scurried along behind the minotaur, who occasionally jerked the chain to speed its progress. Now and then the creature hissed menacingly when someone they were passing drew too close. This prompted an even harsher jerk on the chain by the minotaur. Maq could see that the iron collar had created a raw, oozing wound in the thing's almost colorless hide. Its close-set brown eyes stared with obvious malice at its master.

Maq's strides had slowed as she took in the pair. Lendle, oblivious to anything but his purchase, which he fingered even as they walked, was forging ahead of her. Maquesta reached out and grabbed him by the collar, gave him a quick shake to get his attention, and motioned with her head at the minotaur and his "pet." Lendle, looking for an instant as if he had been awakened from a dream, turned his attention where Maq indicated.

His eyes narrowed with momentary interest. "Osquip. Nasty creatures. Haven't ever seen one outside an underground ruin. In fact, can't say as I've ever seen one at all. Just pictures of 'em. Heard about them, though. They're supposed to be carnivorous, voracious eaters. I think. Hmmm. No, I could be thinking about otyughs. Now they are truly terrible things to behold. I never saw one of them either. But I had an uncle who came face-to-face with one when he was exploring an underground cavern. Much nastier than an osquip." The gnome's words started pouring out faster.

Just then, the osquip let out an angry hiss. Maq didn't know what had prompted it, but the creature leapt, snarling, at its master's throat. The heavy chain and collar limited its mobility, though. With surprising agility and speed, the minotaur stepped away from the attacking animal, pulled a short sword from his harness, and with a powerful lunge sliced off the creature's head. Blood spurted from its neck as the osquip gave a few feeble kicks with its legs and fell heavily to the ground.

"Take care of that," the minotaur ordered as he wiped his bloodied weapon on the osquip's hide. Satisfied the blade was clean, he sheathed it. Two mangy-looking human slaves who had been trailing behind their master moved up to the osquip's still-twitching body. One grabbed the creature's rear legs and started dragging, leaving a trail of blood behind. The other picked up the head and cradled it in his arms. They continued to follow their master down the muddy roadway that crossed the edge of Horned Bay. Maq stood watching and saw the slaves toss the body parts into the harbor-where the animal's remains joined the variety of other garbage that helped give Lacynos its distinctive aroma.

"Um. Well, that was pleasant. Minotaurs. In any event," Lendle continued babbling, "my uncle narrowly avoided the otyugh's tentacles-or arms I suppose, depending on your perspective. Though one of the tentacles had eyeballs on it. A half-dozen eyes, he said. So I suppose you couldn't call that one an arm. Well, I guess you could, since its eyes weren't on its head. So my uncle said, and he should know. Anyway, the beast had three or four legs and moved fast. But my uncle was able to outmaneuver the thing, and he found his way out of the cavern without having to kill the creature." Lendle smiled, finished with his tale.