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“I hates this plan!” Montaron spat.
“Let’s just say, I like complications,” I replied. “That Harper, Jaheira, will meet her end soon enough. It’s not as though I could have dispatched her myself. But, we’re not talking about me now, are we? That’s why our benefactors hired you.”
“And what’s my cut in all this, besides your throat? Jaheira wasn’t on the menu until that daughter of Gorion showed up.”
“Don’t you see how fate plays into our hands, Monty? Gorion’s daughter has led us to victory – Jaheira’s death will mean opportunity for us! Didn’t you see the note?”
“Aye.” Montaron said, not at all enthused. “So, what’s in it for me? I’ll not be doin’ the fifty-fifty this time!”
“Why, Monty! Haven’t you figured it out? Our benefactors will hail you above all others, bestow lavish gifts on you, maybe even reward you for your unfailing service. Imagine the wealth – and women – that will be yours to command.” I tried to sweeten his sour disposition, but I could tell he would be a hard sell. He hadn’t even flinched. His blade, I noticed, had been recently sharpened. I chose that moment to pull my robe closer to myself, and plop onto the expertly embroidered quilt that covered my bed, a bard playing his harp for a fair maiden in the wildwood. It matched one on Montaron’s bed.
“I hate playing goody-two-shoes, Xzar!” Montaron snarled. “This had better be good! Worth its weight in gold. I’ll not take any other sissy stuff – not for this job!”
“Duh…I could tells you how to wear your golden shoes.” Damn! I can’t ever control that odd-sounding buffoon – or the other voices that come from my mouth. Strangely enough, though, they make sense. Sometimes.
Montaron turned his back to me and began taking off his armor. “Mad wizard!”
After a nasty encounter at the steps leading into the Friendly Arm Inn, I recognized that the party we had joined included the daughter of Gorion. Gorion! This revelation – and the addition to our party of the accursed Harper Jaheira and her stuttering husband – was all too much for Montaron – or me. Our heads were swimming with ideas. Mine were the best, of course. As if these revelations weren’t enough, our room was entirely too honey-sweet for my tastes. Or Monty’s. Dispatching both Jaheira and Gorion’s daughter would require strategic planning.
Montaron was down to his jerkin when he turned toward me again. “Why do we have to stay with that stuttering parrot Khalid and his Harper wife until we reach Nashkel? I’m already chafing at the thought of having nice conversations. I hate nice conversations. We should have gone straight there!”
“What? And spent the night amid the grass and rocks, eating gibberlings like we have the past few days?” I saw Montaron shudder and pressed the advantage. “I think not! I saw how you devoured your bear-claw stew this evening – that and two flagons of ale.”
“Three,” Montaron said, turning to look at me, a smile playing on his face.
“Duh…See? And we get nice beds to sleep in, too!” I smiled back.
Montaron’s smile slipped to a scowl, as he continued to undress himself. “I hate nice beds. My bed’s too soft!”
“Well, then you can sleep in my bed tonight if it’ll make you feel better. When we get to Nashkell, we are sure to meet up with an old friend of mine – Edwin. I am certain that you, he and I can strike a bargain. You see, he’s looking for some witch woman – what’s her name… Dyna-something, I think. I’m sure that if I help him find her, he will help us. From what I gather, others will be looking for this daughter of Gorion as well. We whittle away her support, make her rely on us for her comfort, protect her to the end, become her… friend.”
Montaron unfastened his sword belt and began taking off his leg armor. “Can ye trust him…this Edwin? I thought ye said the glory of killin’ Jaheira would be mine?”
“It will, Monty! It will. But we want to be assured of success, right?”
“I could slice Jaheira’s throat tonight. Get it over with. Make it look like an accident. Maybe even make it seem like that fool Khalid did it.”
“Oh, goody, goody!” My voice had shifted accents, as it sometimes did, to that of a little child -- then, abruptly, to some foreign accent. “You do not fully app-REE-shee-ate our sit-oo-AY-shun, MON-tee-ron.” My voice thankfully fell back to normal as I continued my thoughts. “Jaheira and our adventuring companions have some sort of…bond. Your task will be to poison our dear Jaheira, not slice her neck. And this must be done slowly, methodically and without any sign of malice. We must seem…” I cleared my throat. “Friendly.”
“Bah!” Montaron said, then spat into the corner. “Swillwater be sweeter!”
“Say that again, Montaron!” I swooned, as his facial muscles tensed in disdain for his assignment. “Your voice is ambrosia!”
Montaron scowled as he violently pulled his leggings off, revealing his undergarments. “You’re mad, ye wizard! Leave me to do the killin’, will ye?”
“Of course, of course,” I said. “So long as you kill her discreetly!”
“Me blade’s discreet enough,” he said, thrusting the tip of his razor-sharp dagger inches from my throat. I laughed at his joke, and pushed the blade aside. The delicate slice of its razor sharp edge nipped some skin, revealing the tiniest trickle of blood against my white flesh. Taken in by the crimson contrast, I sucked on my fingers, tasting the delicious iron-rich…irony… slowly, sensuously. All this talk of killing was making me…aroused, amused, and anxious.
Montaron shook his head, buried the knife in the top of the oaken bureau, and continued undressing.
“How’s that gonna happen?” he finally muttered. “Gotta be darts or arrows, ‘cause the woman ain’t likely to take any mug of ale we offer her.”
“I’ll leave those logistics to you, if you like,” I said. “But make the process slow---” I held the last word until all air ran out of my lungs. “I’m sure our benefactors will be most impressed with you if you are able to explain your methods and your accomplishments.”
Montaron slipped off his jerkin rather roughly, revealing curly dark brown hair and broad, muscled shoulders that made the insides of me swoon, and woke up the little girl inside of me. I grabbed a nearby pillow to calm myself. As he looked my way again, I shyly hid behind the pillow. A small trickle of red from my fingers smudged the lily-white pillow coverings.
“Okay, ye sissy. In that case, I’ll have to start tonight,” Montaron mused. “Do ye think they’ll have anything I could use at the shop downstairs?”
“No. You’ll have to be a little more discreet – and maybe more inventive. The temple next door won’t be any help, either. Best thing is to wait until we get to Nashkell. We’re sure to find some kind of venom or potion that will assist us. Edwin may even know of someone with a spell I can learn.”
“Sour grapes and melons!” Montaron spat. “If only I could give her a sleeping draught tonight, she’d be easy pickings. Dead as dirt. Wouldn’t have to wait.”
My girlish side fully emerged. “Don’t do it, Monty!” I jumped out of bed as if to keep him from opening the door and leaving me.
“But…” Montaron's brows furrowed angrily.
I regained my composure. “No buts, Montaron. I am Death -- Destroyer of Worlds! And you are a lowly worm-like servant in this matter!” Oh, where are my whips when I need them! “We must keep a low profile and wait for the ripest opportunity to strike. Only then can we take down Jaheira and the Harpers, lay the blame for the iron shortage at their feet, and rule the universe as gods!”
“Low profiles are for sissies,” Montaron shoved me aside. “Give ‘em a good shove up the ass with an acid arrow, that’s what I say!”
“You know I love you when you talk dirty,” my girlish side said, winking slyly his direction, his little play on words not lost on me. “But your actions must be more subtle. Maybe work out a deal with Khalid so you can have her to yourself for a night; maybe find a way to make yourself more…romantic with her.” The thought of Montaron with Jaheira made me shudder violently. Despite my own words, I couldn’t picture it. Apparently, neither could he.
Montaron laughed. He laughed a long time, wiping tears from his eyes, as he threw himself onto my bed. “Ye are the maddest wizard I knows!” Montaron said, almost out of breath. “I ought to kill you instead of she!”
“You just try it, you under-done suckling pig!” I snarled. “You won’t even make it to Nashkell without my assistance.” My threat was hardly a veiled one. Montaron’s continued smile and demeanor, however, told me that he would be waiting another night to do whatever deed needed doing. I relaxed, if only slightly.
I sat at the foot of my bed, looking at Montaron’s wide grin, imagining it as a trophy on a plaque in my house. I reached out to stroke the cute little scars on his face, then gently backhand slapped his thigh instead. It just felt like the thing to do.
“Fine,” he laughed again. “But Jaheira’s mine when we get to Nashkell. Promise me!”
“Yes, yes. She’ll be yours to do with as you please – so long as I can be there to watch. Now, off to bed with you. Or shall we be sharing my bed this evening?”