Toede shifted atop his horse. "I see Charka has failed.

Nice knowing you, Charka. Good-bye!"

With that, Toede began to swing his mount around. Groag thought Toede was bluffing, but faded deeper into the brushy shadows anyway, just in case.

Charka turned to Toede. "Wait!" panted the large gnoll.

Toede stopped, turned halfway on his horse. "Yes?" Toede smiled.

Charka fumed for a moment. "Charka kill Boils Flesh anyway. Kill many wizards."

Toede leaned back and laughed, as Groag pulled himself deeper into the brush. "Charka cannot defeat wizard's toy? What chance has Charka to defeat wizard?"

Charka bit on the air for a moment, and Toede turned back to leave. "Wait!"

Toede smiled again. "Yes?"

Charka said, "Charka still has hostage."

Toede said pleasantly, "Charka has no hostage."

At that moment Groag's heart skipped a beat, as the collected gnolls suddenly realized there was an empty spot where Groag had been. There was consternation among the gnolls, as none had noticed his disappearance.

Several of them moved toward the brush, looking for Groag. Toede held up a pudgy hand. "Don't bother," he said. "Powerful juju chief."

"Wait!" said Charka, even though Toede had not turned to go again. The gnoll chief shook as though he were about to explode into pieces. Then quietly he reminded Toede, "Charka save King of Little Dry Frogs. Save life. King of Little Dry Frogs owes Charka."

"Ah," said Toede. "Gratitude." He paused a beat and smiled. "Thank you, Charka. Good-bye now." He turned to leave.

Charka strode around to the front of the horse, about four gnoll-strides. The gnoll chieftain stepped forward, hands spread wide. "Charka take people back to swamp."

Toede shrugged. "Charka still cursed."

Charka fumed. Finally he said, "How Charka appease Great Juju Chief Boils Flesh?"

"Charka sorry?" said Toede.

There was a mutter from the massive gnoll. Groag thought the creature responded, "Charka sorry."

The two talked for a moment. Then Charka ran to retrieve the magically lit stone and the box and handed them back to the hobgoblin. Then the two talked for another moment. Charka began bellowing orders. The gnolls, all thirty of them, faded into the trees on all sides. Toede then rode southward, Groag's horse tied to his, Charka at his side.

Groag was abandoned. Not an abnormal situation, all in all, he thought, pulling himself from the briars. Toede regularly abandoned people, though usually through the means of one or the other dying.

Groag thought of heading north, back to Flotsam, but two things stood in his way. First, he wanted to make sure the scholars were safe, and that Toede had not betrayed them. And second, he had not expected Toede to return at all. Honoring any obligation was most unToedelike. It should have made Groag feel relieved, that his faith in the former highmaster was somehow justified.

Instead, it just increased the feeling of dread in his stomach, that when the end came, it would be all the worse.

Sighing, Groag set out southward toward the camp as the first rays of dawn set the surviving autumn leaves on fire.

In which Our Protagonist reaps the fruits of his labor, considers his lot in life, and receives a vision of greater things to come.

By midmorning the scholars' camp was a flurry of activity, none of which was directly connected to imminent escape. Various librarians were leaping around the fallen pillars, making last-minute notes. A few of "the boys" were digging trenches, into which Bunniswot would dump badly wrapped satchels of notes (and in one case, an overloaded leather trunk in one grave-deep trench) for "later recovery." (Of course, Bunniswot made a nasty giggle when he said this). Renders scurried around, trying to make a map of where everything was buried. No one had taken down any of the tents, nor packed any personal effects. And of course, breakfast had been skipped by mutual agreement considering the cook had already been presumably eaten by the gnolls.

So it was a surprise when, about three hours after dawn, the gnolls finally appeared. A surprise not in that their arrival came later than expected, but in that they did not arrive screaming and seeking to use their spears for impromptu exploratory surgery. Instead, only one gnoll appeared, accompanying Toede, who was still mounted on one of the horses and dressed in Bunniswot's dressing gown. The gnoll was large even by gnoll standards, and dressed in a manner that Renders could immediately trace to preCataclysm humanoid war cults.

The two stood there, hobgoblin and gnoll, immobile, until one by one the scholars became aware of their presence. Those involved in arguments left in midword, those making stone rubbings in midrub, and those making maps in midcartographical flourish. Bunniswot was patting down the last of his buried treasure and notes with a shovel. When he looked up, saw everyone else gazing elsewhere, he joined the silent tableaux of scholars staring at the strange pair of humanoids.

Renders set his bone pen aside and walked toward the pair. The old scholar was dressed in white and cream, as was his personal preference, and the sun bounced beams off his shining form. He stopped all of five paces away from the gnoll and hobgoblin, noting that the gnoll chieftain looked even taller close up.

The gnoll chieftain gestured imperiously. Two large gnolls strode out of the brush, each carrying the carcass of a freshly slain boar. Then two more, carrying baskets of tubers, currants, and wild grapes. Then another pair, carrying wooden platters made of sassafras bark, and heavily laden with chestnuts, walnuts, and hickory nuts. Then another pair, one with a clutch of catfish strung through the gills on a leather thong, the other with a similar string of mountain trout. Then a gnoll with a basket of freshwater eels, and lastly one with a hemp basket of live crawfish, still skittering slowly over each other.

The tall gnoll slapped his chest and cried, "Charka!"

Toede translated. "Charka begs forgiveness of the mighty wizards and offers these gifts in apology."

Renders made to hold out his hand, but Toede shot him a quick, nasty look. Instead, the scholar placed it over his heart and proclaimed solemnly, "Renders."

The gnolls bowed. "Great Chief Boils Flesh."

Renders arched an eyebrow at Toede. "Ah. Ah. Boils flesh?"

"He believes you and yours to excel in culinary abilities," Toede put in.

Renders looked cross for the first time. "Whatever gave him that accursed idea?"

"Hur?" said Charka.

"Great Chief pleased for now. Accepts gifts. Warns Charka's people to behave or curse returns." To Renders, Toede added quickly, "Fine language is not their forte. Just leave out anything that sounds as if it would stump a gully dwarf, and you'll be fine."

"But I think we should inform him that I am not such a great cook." Renders shook his head, then smiled pleasantly at the curious look he received from the gnoll.

"Some things get misunderstood in translation." Toede shrugged. "And note that this one can break you up into small pieces if he ever believes you not to be a great wizard and chef."

"Ah," said Renders. "Ah. Well then." To the gnoll Renders spread his hands out, imitating Toede. "Great Chief Boils Flesh thanks Charka for gifts. Build fire, have mighty feast!"

Then he turned to the collected scholars, who were observing the entire business. "Let's get with the program, gentlemen," Renders hissed, clapping his hands.

Fortunately for all, by the time the fire had been sufficiently banked to a good bed of coals, and the pots (still dirty from the previous day) sufficiently graveled and washed, Groag made his return, footsore and cranky. He found Charka, Toede, and Renders engaged in lively debate with a few of the gnolls in the main pavilion, Bunniswot cursing and excavating a trench furiously, and the remaining gnolls seated at the southern perimeter of the camp. A couple of Renders's "boys" were arguing about how to best boil a boar.