Toede grunted. Nor did he have any desire to lead an army with himself at the helm or any other position, but he had not been able to come up with an easy way out for the past two days.

"Most of Groag's courtiers are loyal," continued Bunni-swot. "But it is a loyalty built more out of fear than trust. Groag is even more mercurial than… you were, and if the going gets tough, they will probably fold and surrender."

"You seem to know a lot about how Groag's court works," noted Toede.

"I should," said Bunniswot, "since I am the official court historian."

Toede stared at the scholar. "You're the what?" Bunniswot shrugged. "I returned to Flotsam with my notes, without a sponsor and needing a job. Groag was just setting himself up, and knew that I was not part of the 'old mob' that followed Hopsloth or the priests. So I got the posting." He paused a moment, then added, "How do you think I got your book copied?"

"You mean…"

"Groag's scribes," said Bunniswot, "who were also Hopsloth's scribes, and Gildentongue's scribes, and now that I think of it, your scribes. The bureaucracy remains intact, I've discovered, regardless of changes in the leadership."

"I remember the scribes," said Toede. "I wouldn't trust them with a lead groat."

"Nor I," said Bunniswot, "which is why the initial manuscript came to them on official order from Groag. They leapt on the chance to prove their worth and loyalty to the new master. That was the first print run. Then Groag found out about the book (though not the copying), and screamed bloody murder about Toede traitors lurking in Flotsam. After which, the scribes, afraid for their jobs as well as their lives, produced another hundred copies in exchange for my silence in the matter." "And the third printing?" said Toede. "We're working on a profit-sharing plan," said Bunniswot. Both hobgoblin and human heads spun around as Tay-win cursed at Rogate, "We can't use an airborne assault.

We don't have anything that flies!"

"A minor point," countered Rogate, "easily surmounted by a brilliant commander and tactician such as our high-master!"

"Children," admonished Toede.

"Even a brilliant commander can't build ships out of nothing!" said Taywin, looking more worn and tired than usual.

Rogate nodded intensely, then looked at the kender, his eyes not quite focusing. "Moles!" he shouted. "What if we get some really large moles, and tunnel under the walls?"

Taywin buried her head in her hands and screamed, also in a ladylike fashion.

"Badgers would do as well," said Rogate in a compromising tone.

"Scholar," sighed Toede, "do you want to separate them until they cool down?" Bunniswot did not respond. "Scholar?"

Toede looked up to see Bunniswot staring at the borders of the clearing, his face a white mask of fear. Toede followed his terror-stricken gaze to the edge, where a great gnoll stood. As Toede watched, more gnolls stepped from the underbrush, in a ring that spread around the entire campsite.

Toede, reaching for the sword slung across his back, rose slowly from his position. He said out of the corner of his mouth, "Friends of yours?"

Bunniswot shook his head slowly.

"Thought not," muttered Toede as he pulled his sword from its back-scabbard. Rogate and Taywin were also on their feet, weapons drawn.

The gnolls regarded them in silence, seeming as tense as the rebellion members. Two of the largest gnolls approached Bunniswot and Toede. The two gnolls parted, to reveal an equally massive gnoll behind them, dressed in the armor and metal skullcap of a chieftain.

"Charka!" cried Toede. Bunniswot let out a groan, and Toede heard a dull thump behind him and to his right. He did not need to look back to know the young scholar was sprawled out in a dead faint.

At least he'll be quiet, thought the hobgoblin. "Charka offers greetings to Toede, King of Little Dry Frogs!" Charka saluted.

"Is this a social call," snarled Toede, puffing himself up as much as he could, "or are you here to finish the job you attempted six months ago?"

Toede expected Charka to respond with a typical "Hur?" but instead the gnoll said, "Neither. We come to offer what aid we can."

Toede's eyebrows shot up. "That was almost a complete sentence, Charka."

Behind him, Taywin was bringing Bunniswot out of his swoon, and convinced him that they were not all going to die. At least not just yet.

"Charka has been practicing," the gnoll chief said, smiling. "Charka has had help!"

A smaller, human figure, dressed in the quilted leathers of gnollish garb, stepped out from behind the gnoll, bowed slightly, and waved.

"Ah," said Renders. "Hello, everyone." Bunniswot groaned and almost passed out again. Pity, thought Toede, the old boy was doing so well. "Greetings, Chief Boils Flesh," said Toede.

"Renders. Ah. Just Renders," said the scholar. "Charka and I worked on homonyms and multiple definitions early on."

"Charka speak good now," bellowed the gnoll. "Well," put in Renders.

"A hole in the ground that provides water," defined Charka. "Sort of a little bitty swamp."

Renders gave Toede a shrug. "Ah. There are still some rough spots."

Toede still had his sword pointed at the gnolls and the human. He lowered it but did not sheathe the weapon.

"Forgive my confusion," he said, "but the last time I saw your people, Charka, they were being rolled over by a large, heavy object."

"Yes." Charka nodded. "Night of the Flat Brothers, Charka remember it well. We had returned to our swamp to discuss your trick. Many said you fooled us, cheated us into believing scholars were powerful wizards. Some said we should attack scholars. Charka angry, too. Agreed with them. Then Renders arrived."

"Ah," put in Renders, "I'm afraid I was very disappointed in Charka's behavior, and was going to give the gnoll a piece of my mind."

"You're fortunate that Charka didn't leave pieces of your mind scattered throughout the swamp," muttered Toede.

Charka frowned. "Renders talk. Charka agree with Renders," he said. "Think that Toede told truth, that scholars were powerful. Not great in juju, but great in knowledge."

"Ah," added Renders, "after all, Charka did like my stories."

"Charka argue that scholars should stay," said the gnoll. "Brother gnolls disagreed, said Charka not fit for chiefdom. Throw-over Charka."

"Overthrow," corrected Renders.

"Over… throw," said Charka carefully. "Brother gnolls attacked and were crushed to putty by great machine. Taboo-area pillars destroyed, magic broken, no longer taboo. Other gnolls apologize to Charka, make Charka chief, Renders shaman."

"Ah," said Renders. 'They thought we summoned the Abyss-spawned creature that flattened the gnolls' attack. After a while, of course, we let it be known it was likely, ah, your doing, Toede." The old scholar paused and added, "It is Toede, isn't it?"

"The 'real Toede/ as people keep saying," said Toede.

"I've been meaning to read your book," said Renders.

"Perhaps another day," said Toede. "But Bunniswot didn't even know you two were alive, and you aren't the mysterious allies he was talking about. So why are you here?"

"Ah," said Renders. "Ah, well, we were also told to meet here."

"By whom?" said Toede.

"By me," said a sepulchral voice at the perimeter of the camp. A lone figure limped into the encampment.

It was humanoid and might once have been a man, for it had the required number of arms and legs and what would pass in most societies as a torso. However, the torso was lopsided, as if a large chunk of it had been removed under the left arm and then everything had been resewn back together. The skin of its hands was tightly pulled over a skeletal form, and its tightly drawn face was the color of water-stained parchment. The shadow of a skull could be glimpsed under the skin. As for its manner of dress, it was decked in once-resplendent robes and finery, now reduced to gray tatters dotted with fragmented gems. And it smelted like new earth disturbed by an open grave.