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metal into any adornment or weaponry that you may desire, and who will gladly
provide you with the finest accoutrements. I insist upon this as a minimal
payment for your pains on our behalf. We Crarians are not ones to ignore a
debt, or to leave it unpaid. It is not charity: it is gratitude. Should you
refuse this, we will destroy an equal amount of the wealth each year, rather
than spend it on ourselves. Our people take their obligations seriously, I
assure you. I beg you to accept this offer, which comes from the bottom of my
heart."
In truth, Chod did not begrudge this largesse in the least; it was a cheap
enough price for the assurance of Crar's tacit protection by the Guild and a
fearsome demon.
* * * *
Grimm felt uncomfortable at the thought of accepting Chod's offer and the
concept of becoming rich through stolen wealth, but the mayor's expression
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showed the intensity of feeling that burned behind his face. Grimm understood
well the concept of obligation.
What's so wrong with the idea of my becoming wealthy? he asked himself,
although his mental sophistry did not entirely convince him.
He shot a glance at Dalquist again but, this time, the senior mage's
expression offered him no guidance. This decision was his own, and his alone.
How many times have I heard of the fabulous spoils won from other Quests, he
wondered. How many times have I read of money seized, cozened or plundered
from defeated enemies?
This munificence had been offered to him on a platter, and it would be
churlish to refuse. The people of Crar wanted a new start under the spiritual
guidance of a new leader, a symbol of opposition to the old, hated order. Who
better than Grimm Afelnor, the son and the grandson of blacksmiths; an
Acclaimed Mage who had opposed and fought Starmor at every turn, and who had
defeated and banished the hated tyrant?
The words came in an impulsive gush from his lips, as if somebody other than
Grimm Afelnor had spoken them.
"I accept all your conditions with humility and deep gratitude, Mayor Chod,
assuming that Shakkar is willing to act as my Seneschal. I will be your new
Baron through thick and thin. I accept. I accept your offer with my thanks."
He struggled to maintain his sorcerous dignity, but he fought to deny the
tears that pricked at his eyelids their release. The cold, measured tones and
language of a mighty Questor deserted him.
"I'm worried that I'm going to make an awful mess of the whole thing, Lord
Mayor, he said, feeling tears beginning to prickle his eyelids. He took a
deep breath until sure his emotions would not betray him.
"It's going to take a lot of getting used to, he said, with a weak smile.
I'm accustomed to being Grimm, the Pauper. Grimm, Baron of Crar sounds like
somebody else, but I'll do my best to be what you expect of me; assuming that
Shakkar is willing to represent me, of course."
Mayor Chod gave a deep, courtly bow.
"Thank you, Lord Mage, from the bottom of my heart, he said. I feel sure the
other members of the Council will agree with your stipulations, and we will
all be awaiting your word. He bowed again, and left.
Dalquist turned towards Grimm, looking a little amused at his young friend's
discomfiture.
Annoyed at Dalquist's slight smirk, Grimm snapped, Don't you dare call me
Lord Baron', Dalquist. The title of Questor means more to me, in any case."
Dalquist laughed, and Grimm frowned.
"Look here, Brother Mage! If you want to laugh at me "
Dalquist shook his head. I'm sorry, Grimm. I wasn't laughing at you; only at
your face. I can assure you, Harvel and Crest will be more than happy to
accept their prizes, and I hanker for a little of the easy life myself A few
decent changes of clothes for me, say, five or six, would be welcome, and I've
been trying to scrape up enough for some cloth-of-gold robes for some time. A
Questor needs to impress his audience, and good clothes can do a lot to grease
the wheels during a hard Quest. I'm well pleased with Chod's terms."
"Dalquist, you couldn't take all that with you on a Quest, anyway. It's all
very well to sport such finery within the House, but I want to be out and
about, Questing as I should. You'd never fit all that in a holdall or
rucksack."
Dalquist smiled, with just a little smugness playing momentarily on his face.
The secret dimensional cubby-hole that I used to secrete the Eye can have
other uses. It draws no power from me to maintain it, and I can access it as
easily as turning a corner. It is large enough to hold a whole rack of
clothes. I'll be happy to explain how I did it, and you should be able easily
to procure your own."
Grimm drifted for a moment in idle reverie at the concept.
No more itchy homespun for me! he thought.
However, he felt unease beginning to grow within his entrails.
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"This all sounds so good, Dalquist, he said. But it also sounds too good to
be true. I'm not sure Chod's offer was ... well, untainted. Why would these
people be so keen to make me their Baron?"
This time, Dalquist exploded into laughter, tears bursting from his eyes.
Grimm glowered, clenching his fists at his sides. I really don't see the
joke, Dalquist! If you'd care to share it with me "
"Your face, Grimm! the older mage spluttered, dabbing his eyes with a blue
handkerchief. If you could ... if you could only see it! Of course Chod's
proposal's isn't all it seems! He wants you to agree to represent Crar, giving
the city all the protection of the Guild, without being here. He wants to
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