Suddenly the vivid images faded into shadows, and the scene vanished. “What’s this?” Gellor gasped.

The three figures rose jerkily, crying out together.

Gellor was shocked. “Have I done something?”

“No, faithful agent, it is not you who has caused this distress,” one of the three said as all of them sat down again. The one-eyed man was surprised to note it was the leftmost figure, not the central one, who had spoken.

“It is some agency, a force to be reckoned with, which so discommoded us,” the rightmost of the trio continued to explain.

“Yet we suffered no real harm,” the central figure noted. “It was a demand for personal privacy, perhaps, but not an attack. The youth himself could never do such a thing, so we must conclude that he has other… friends.”

Gellor wanted more of an explanation, but did not press for it. He supposed that more than privacy could be involved, much more, and the force displayed could be either good or ill. Then he was drawn from his introspection by a question from the central figure. What did Gellor intend to do?

“Alert the local lord to the fact that there are bandits in his hunting preserve,” the one-eyed man replied. “The danger to Gord there is mortal unless some agency intervenes, I think,” he explained, recalling what he had seen. “That change leaves but a single likely course open, so thereafter I’m off for the realms of brigandry. I’ll position myself so as to encounter Gord there and keep my most watchful eye on him.”

Did a slight rocking on the part of the Enlightened Ones indicate they appreciated his little joke? After a couple of moments, the central figure spoke again.

“We will not scry any more now, nor will we employ any agent whose power is such as to attract notice. A black wind has just swept through the aether-it came from the void and sends eddies even here. Go swiftly. Lord Gellor. We will contact you again as needed.”

“Thank you, Enlightened Ones. I will serve as instructed and await further instructions as I proceed,” the one-eyed man said with a slight bow. Then Gellor turned and strode from the chamber and away into the night. He didn’t bother to look behind, for he knew that the place he had been in was no longer there. That was the way of the Enlightened Ones.

He had much to do, many affairs to attend to in a short time. Several crowned heads employed him as an agent, and he served them well and faithfully, to the limit prescribed by his greater duty to the Balance. That gave him perfect cover, of course. When Gellor departed at first light on the morrow it would be on business of state. Elsewhere Gellor would be recognized too, and accepted as a member in good standing of groups and organizations of less savory sort. Being a spy and agent was like that, and in truth the one-eyed man enjoyed his duty.

Several weeks later, in a dirty little town in the heart of the Bandit Kingdoms, Gellor finally met Gord. It was the beginning of a long and adventure-filled friendship.

Chapter 16

“I never thought to see you here!”

The exclamation of the young thief was filled with joy, for before him stood his friend and sometimes mentor, Gellor. “How did you find me here? No, never mind that. Come In! You can tell me everything after you’ve had a chance to sit comfortably.”

The one-eyed man smiled and clasped Gord’s arm in greeting. “It is good to meet again, eh?” As his young host led the way, he entered the suite of rooms and took a seat on a divan while Gord busied himself getting wine and goblets. The place was well and comfortably furnished but showed no trace of riches. On the contrary, it showed ample means of only average sort. The young fellow was no fool. Gellor knew that Gord could well have taken a villa and filled it with lavish trappings, lived luxuriously, and reveled. But that would have attracted attention and brought certain downfall.

“What are you doing here in Greyhawk? I thought you’d be roaming the east, doing important things at the behest of dukes and kings!”

His face betraying nothing, Gellor replied, “Perhaps I’m doing just that, Master Gord… Or perhaps there are greater lords than that directing me.”

“You are here on some affair of state or another, then?”

“Let’s just say I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pay my respects to an old friend,” Gellor said with a warm smile. Before Gord could ask more questions, his comrade hastened on. “Since you left the east, things there have settled down into a boring state of mundane sort. During such a lull I deemed it possible to enjoy a bit of holiday, so here I am in Greyhawk.”

“I don’t believe a word of that,” Gord countered, pouring them both brimming goblets of wine. He handed one to Gellor and after both men had drunk, the young man went on. “Has it to do with the demon we slew? The evil relic called the Middle Key? Some war about to break out hereabouts? Come on, you one-eyed fox, tell me!”

“No, and yes. Possibly, and absolutely not… I am not being frivolous, Gord. Who of us can say? Neither you nor I are capable of ordering events or determining fate.” Gellor looked at his young friend, and it was evident from the expression on his face that the man’s explanation would never do. Gellor sighed and took another drink of wine. It was excellent stuff, a prime vintage of golden Keoish, and he savored it, allowing it to lave his tongue, roll on his palate, and slowly make its way on down so as to enable him to enjoy the full aftertaste as well.

Appreciating his guest’s savoring of the refreshment, Gord remained silent while Gellor relaxed and enjoyed, but he never took his eyes from the man. He was clearly waiting for more of an explanation, and would not waver until he got it, and Gellor was aware of both of those facts.

“All right, Gord, I shall be a little more specific-otherwise, I’ll never have sufficient peace to properly quaff the remainder of this superb wine you’ve so foolishly provided to me.”

Taking the hint, Gord put bottle to glass and filled Gellor’s goblet again. “How long has it been since you and I met?”

“More than a year-two, near enough. From that question, I take it you have needed no special amusements to pass the time here in Greyhawk…”

“That’s so, although I do seek some diversion now and again. Chert-surely you remember him?-went off to find more action and adventure many months ago, though it seems but yesterday. I’ve kept occupied, shall we say, here and about, making a modest living this way and that. But the sameness cloys, Gellor. Have you come with some momentous quest for me?” When the one-eyed man shrugged and shook his head in tentative fashion, Gord’s interest was even more piqued, if that was possible.

“Well, don’t just sit there supping on my wine and being as silent as a stone! You’ll not lure me into more discussion of my own affairs until you recount your own.”

“The druid Greenleaf is more concerned with the minions of the Abyss and malign relics of power than I am. Save your questions for that one,” Gellor said with a smile. He knew that he wasn’t fooling Gord in the least with his disclaimer, but he wished to direct the conversation to other matters. “Do you think often of your heritage?” he asked after a slight pause.

The young man was serious now. “Too frequently, old friend. It causes me pain, so I gain surcease through action and hazard. There is no one to answer my queries. It is a riddle with no answer. Yet, I find myself going over the matter again and again…” Gord’s voice trailed off, his gaze resting on the small box that, as far as he knew, was the only possible clue he had to his past, his parents, his heritage.

“That is one of the reasons why I am come here, Gord. Perhaps there is someone, something, to provide at least a partial answer to your questions.” Gord opened his mouth at that, but Gellor cut him off before he could speak. “No, wait, don’t interrupt me now. You’ve been at me as a mosquito on fair flesh, and now I’ll speak-only do open another bottle of that wonderful vintage!” Gord complied readily, and the one-eyed man returned to his tale.