Rosenberg, Joel - Guardians Of The Flame 02 - The Sword And The Chain

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Introduction

It started as a game. Just a quiet, pleasant evening for seven college students.

Karl Cullinane, Jason Parker, James Michael Finnegan, Doria Perlstein, Walter Slovotsky, Andrea

Andropolous, and Lou Riccetti sat down for an evening of fantasy gaming. It was going to be fun. That's

all it was supposed to be.

But then gamemaster Professor Arthur Deighton somehow transferred them to the Other Side. Without

warning, they found themselves in the world they thought existed only in their imaginations, in the bodies

of the characters they had been pretending to be. Short, skinny Karl Cullinane became a tall, well-muscled

warrior; crippled James Michael Finnegan became the powerful dwarf, Ahira Bandylegs. All seven of

them changed into different people with unusual talents.

Suddenly it wasn't a game anymore.

Jason Parker was the first to die. He spent the last few moments of his life kicking on the end of a spear.

The others survived, but now they weren't playing, they were fighting to stay alive, to escape the wrath

and weapons of warriors and wizards, slavers and lords.

They had to find the Gate Between Worlds and return home.

They had to, and they did—but in the doing, they lost far too much. Ahira died at the Gate. Doria went

catatonic. Nothing could be done about that at home. But, back on the Other Side, the Matriarch of the

Healing Hand Society could bring Ahira back to life, could cure Dona's shattered mind.

So they returned to the Other Side. And, yes, the Matriarch was willing to help them, just this once.

But nothing is ever free. There were prices to pay, and promises to make. Promises that would be kept.

No matter what the cost.

CHAPTER ONE: Profession

"Where we do go from here?" Karl Cullinane asked, sit-ting next to Andrea Andropolous on the largest of

the flat stones surrounding the ashes of supper's campfire. He squinted at the setting sun as he sipped his

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coffee.

Andy-Andy smiled. Karl always liked that smile; it brightened up what had been an already bright day.

"Do you mean that metaphorically?" she asked, tossing her head to clear the wisps of hair from her face.

Extending a slim, tanned forefinger, she stroked his thigh. "Or are you asking where the two of us can slip

off to, to get some privacy?" She looked up at him, her head cocked to one side. "I would have thought

that last night would have been enough for a while. Let's wait until dark, shall we?"

He laughed. "That wasn't what I meant—I was talking about how long we're going to stay here on the

preserve. The Hand Society isn't going to let us live here forever." And I was also wondering how the hell

we're going to keep our promise to the Matriarch. "But. . ."He took her hand. "As long as you've brought

the subject up, I wouldn't mind—"

A firm, reedy voice sounded in Karl's head: *This is ridiculous. *

Lying on the grass twenty yards away, Ellegon opened his eyes. Then, raising his head from his crossed

forelegs, the dragon glared at the two of them. *Can't you think about anything but sexual intercourse? I

know you're only humans, but must you always be in heat?*

Curling and uncurling his leathery wings, he rose to all fours, sending a flock of birds fleeing from their

perches

18 THE SWORD AND THE CHAIN

in a nearby elm and into chittering flight. Ellegon was small, as dragons go: He measured barely the

length of a Greyhound bus from the grayish-green tip of his pointed tail to the saucer-sized nostrils of his

saurian snout.

His cavernous mouth closed, then opened, releasing wisps of smoke and steam. *I would think that people

who were recently college students could have other subjects on their minds. Now and then, at least.*

Ellegon, Karl thought. You're not being reasonable. I—

*No, never mind. Pay no attention. Don't bother with me. I'm only a dragon, after all.* The dragon turned

and lumbered away.

"Ellegon," Karl called out. "Come back here."

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The dragon didn't seem to hear.

Karl shrugged. "I wish he'd be a bit less—"

"—of a pain in the butt," Walter Slovotsky finished, as he walked up. "But it's your own fault, you know."

He was a big man, although not quite as tall, broad-shouldered, or well muscled as Karl. Here, at least.

Back home, Walter had been a half a foot taller than Karl, and much stronger. But Karl had been changed

in the transfer between worlds, receiving added height and muscle, as well as skills that he hadn't

possessed at home.

There had been changes, but not everything had changed; Walter still could figure things out faster than

Karl could, most of the time. And that still rankled.

"What do you mean?" Karl asked, irritated.

"Tell you in a moment; I need some coffee." Picking up a rag to protect his hand from the heat of the

battered coffeepot's handle, Slovotsky poured himself a cupful. He seemed oblivious to the chilly wind

that blew across the meadow, despite the fact that he was shirtless, as usual, dressed only in blousy white

pantaloons and sandals, a tangle of knives and straps at his hip.

With his free hand, Slovotsky rubbed at the corners of his eyes. Their slight epicanthic folds gave him a

vaguely oriental appearance, although his features were clearly

Profession 19

Slavic, and his black hair was slightly curly. "You're just asking for a hard time, Karl. There's no reason

for it. He's jealous, that's all."

"Jealous?" Andy-Andy arched an eyebrow. "Of me? Why? I wouldn't think—"

*True.*

"—that dragons would get jealous," she finished, as if she hadn't been interrupted. Perhaps she hadn't

been; Ellegon could easily have turned her out.

Karl turned to see the tip of Ellegon's tail vanish as the dragon disappeared into a stand of trees on the far

side of the meadow.

Don't eavesdrop. You want to join the conversation? Fine. Come on back and chat. Otherwise, keep out of

it.

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No answer.

Walter shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning upward in an amused grin. "It's just a matter of

attention from Karl. Which you're getting, and he's not."

He jerked a thumb toward Lou Riccetti, who sat propped against the base of a tall elm, his arms crossed

over his blue workshirt, lost in thought. "Slovotsky's Law Number Thirty-seven: Some people need less

attention than others." He shrugged. "Some want more. It all depends on—"

"Ohgod." Perched in a high branch of a dying oak, Ahira the dwarf shook his head. "Everyone, get your

weapons; Lou, you take my crossbow. Karl, on your horse. Move. There's a bunch of riders galloping

toward the preserve—I think we're about to be attacked."

As he spoke, Ahira was already climbing clumsily but quickly down the tree, supporting himself by the

pressure of his blunt fingers against the rough bark, not bothering to look for branches to hold on to.

Karl dropped his cup as he jumped to his feet. With a quick, reflexive pat at his swordhilt, he ran across

the meadow to where his chestnut mare stood, idly grazing in the ankle-high grasses.

Unless Ahira was jumping at shadows, there probably

20 THE SWORD AND THE CHAIN

wasn't time to saddle her. He took the bridle down from the branch where it hung and quickly slid the bit

be-tween her teeth as he slipped the crownpiece over her poll and tightened it behind her ears. Reins in his

left hand, he grasped her rough mane in his right and eased himself to her back, swinging his right leg

over and seating him-self firmly.

He flicked the reins and dug in his heels. What the hell is going on? he thought.

*I can see it a bit better, and—*

Make it quick. We're about to be attacked.

*No, we are not. This is what is going on.* Ellegon opened his mind.

Craning his long neck to see over a rocky outcropping, Ellegon stared out over the Waste of Elrood. Off

in the distance, five shapes moved quickly across its cracked, dusty surface.

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He concentrated on them; they zoomed into view. All five were filthy humans, mounted on horses. Quite

possibly tasty horses.

Three of the humans rode together as they pursued a fourth, a half-naked, skinny one, wearing a metal

collar with a dangling length of chain. The fifth rider, dressed like the other pursuers in matching green

tunic and leg-gings, galloped in toward the quarry from a different direction.

Thanks, Ellegon, Karl thought. The fifth one prob-ably took a different route than his friends; he's trying

to cut the slave off before he reaches the tabernacle grounds.

*He will. His horse is much fresher than the other four. *

"Andrea!" Ahira shouted. "Get up to the bluff. Hide in the bushes, and when they get close enough, hit as

many as you can with your sleep spell. We'll sort it out later. Right now, I just want to—"

Profession 21

"No," Karl said, reining in his horse next to the dwarf. "They're not after us. It's four soldiers, chasing an

escaped slave. They're not going to come close to the clearing. Andy, how far can you reach with your

sleep spell?"

She waved her hands helplessly. "Two, three hundred feet. At best."

Ellegon, do any of them have bows? You didn't notice before, and I couldn't tell.

"Two of them do. Karl, we've got to talk about—*

Save it for later. He turned to Andrea. "No good. They'd cut you down before you got in range. Ellegon

and I'll take care of it." Get airborne, and give me a hand. Karl had the only horse among the five of

them; depending on how far away the hunters and their quarry were, he might have to hold the fort all by

himself for several minutes before the others could arrive.

Karl had a great respect for his own fighting skills, but a single man successfully taking on four or more

was a longshot, no matter how handy that one man was with a sword. But with Ellegon overhead, there

probably wouldn't be a fight at all; few people would risk being roasted in dragonfire.

*No. * What?

*I thought I made that clear. No, I will not get air-borne. They have bows. I'm scared.*

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Rosenberg, Joel - Guardians Of The Flame 02 - The Sword And The Chain

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