Well Spent in Lankhmar-
A Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser Adventure
by VStarTraveler

Summary:

Sheelba of the Eyeless Face hires the Gray Mouser to "complete a purchase" on which the seller reneged. Circumstances conspire against him and the Mouser finds that he needs a bit of unusual help from his barbarian friend Fafhrd and Fafhrd's advisor, Ningauble of the Seven Eyes.

'***

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction, written totally for fun and not for profit. This interpretation of Fafhrd, the Gray Mouser, Sheelba and Ningauble, Lankhmar, and the rest of the world of Nehwon is entirely my own. They remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little while, hoping that my words would do the late Mr. Leiber proud.

'***

Author's Notes:

This, my first writing foray into Fritz Leiber's world of Nehwon, was the First Place Winner in The Room Forum's May Writing Challenge - PROMPTAPALOOZA! Challenge 4: You Need an Education competition, where an adult character must go to school for some purpose. That reason can vary; this one falls under the "something else entirely" category! I apologize that I wasn't able to research this story as well as I usually like to do to make sure the characters are in character and what-not; there just wasn't enough time, but I think I'm close. If Leiber fans see anything that is really off, please let me know!

The story takes place sometime after "The Price of Pain-Ease" since our boys never lived together prior to that time.

For those who may not be familiar with Leiber's works, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser were major characters in many of his stories between the 1930s and 1980s. Their various adventures inspired many components of what would become sword and sorcery fantasy-type gaming and generations of fantasy writers.

Thanks so much for reading; your thoughts and reviews are welcomed and appreciated!

Now, on with the story!

VST

The small, lithe man hung from the window ledge by his fingertips as he repeatedly blinked his eyes, trying to clear his head following the magical jolt that had hit him when he tried to climb in the window just moments before.

As the ringing in his ears slowly cleared and his eyesight gradually returned to something approximating normal, he realized that he was lucky to be there at all. First, he had not anticipated any magical protections on the window, and more importantly, suspended from the sill approximately 45-feet above the ground, he wasn't exactly sure how his fingertips had snagged the ledge and found purchase to keep him from falling to his death.

With some degree of clarity restored, the young man called the Gray Mouser eased a toe upward, over, back, and around, finally finding a small crevice. With that toehold secured, he did the same with the other foot and was soon making his way back down the side of the tower that he'd climbed only minutes earlier.

It was the dead of night, so he returned home to sleep for a few hours, but the next morning, the Mouser was back, standing in front of the door of the adjacent building. There, to the side, was a small bronze plaque that read: The Prym School.

He looked at the plaque for a moment, thinking about his early childhood on the streets of Lankhmar and how formal schooling had been denied him due to circumstances. He'd later spent some time under the tutelage of an old wizard of the woods and he'd picked up a lot on his own over the years, but the slight young man smiled at the thought of actually attending a real school. Raising the heavy knocker, he sounded it three times before letting it rest.

Some moments passed before a yawning, elderly-looking guard wearing a faded tunic over what appeared to be leather armor opened the door. "Ya'ah, can'na help ya?"

"Perhaps," replied the Mouser. "I'd like to speak with someone about how to enroll in your school."

~F&tGM~

His journey up and subsequently back down the side of the tower, and the visit to the entry of the Prym School that followed, was instigated about a week earlier...

At just a bit over five feet tall, the Gray Mouser was sitting on the window sill of the fifth-floor apartment he shared with his barbarian friend, Fafhrd, looking out over the hustling, bustling, smoky city of Lankhmar as people made their way to their homes for the late-spring evening.

The nearly seven-foot-tall giant was sitting in his massive chair with his large feet propped up on the table while holding a tankard of ale, his longish blonde hair streaming over the back of the chair. With the Mouser sipping a cup of wine as he looked out over his city, both men were silently lamenting after their just completed conversation about the rather deflated state of their money pouches and their common recent strings of bad luck with the fairer sex. The rent was overdue, the larder was almost empty, and the last candle in the habitation sat on the table. It was missing its top half, as evidenced by the rivulets of wax trailing down its side and onto the pewter holder below.

A small black bird fluttered nearby, catching the Mouser's attention as it turned and drew up in front of him. The little man held up his hand with his index finger extended, and the dark bird immediately accepted the invitation, settling gently on the temporary perch. Looking at the bird closely, Mouser noticed that it had a tiny leather band tied around one leg. He spoke softly to soothe the little creature as he gently removed the band, after which the bird took off and flew away.

Tucked in the band was a tiny, folded slip of parchment, which he proceeded to unfold into what was still a very small square. A single word was written in the neatest hand imaginable:

Come.

Below this was a perfectly shaped vertical oval, which the Gray Mouser recognized as the sigil of his sometime wizardly mentor and occasional employer, Sheelba of the Eyeless Face.

"I've heard that there's a job opening for a bouncer at one of the bars down on the waterfront," said Fafhrd from across the room. "Word is, they're looking for somebody with 'a commanding presence.'" The big man struck a deliberately stern pose in his chair, causing Mouser to laugh.

"Fafhrd, I think your size qualifies you for it, even without that look."

"I guess I'll check it out in the morning. Still, I just can't believe things have been so tough recently that we're having to resort to such menial jobs. If nothing else, maybe it will help raise a little money for the rent." Fafhrd drained the rest of his tankard and then added, "And, hopefully, some more ale."

"I have a possible lead on something, too, but I'm not sure it will pan out," replied the Mouser as he discreetly placed the little parchment into his pocket. He really hoped that it would bring better news of a real job for both him and his friend.

Early the next morning, Fafhrd's deep but gentle snoring continued as the Gray Mouser packed his small pouch, secured his rapier, Scalpel, in its sheath over his shoulder, and attached his dagger, Cat's Claw, to his belt behind his back. He also placed his sling and six small, round stones in the side pocket of the pouch.

Donning his lightweight gray cloak and raising the hood to obscure his face, he set out through the narrow streets of the Lankhmar, heading toward the Marsh Gate. The sun was just peeking above the horizon in the east as he made his way out the causeway road toward the Great Salt Marsh bordering the Inner Sea southeast of the city.

Hours later, the small young man was bemoaning the fact that his mentor did not use a fixed headquarters like that of Fafhrd's sometimes advisor, Ningauble of the Seven Eyes, as strange as that was. Instead, Sheelba's home had a tendency to wander around the swamp on its five spindly poles, like a gangly, top-heavy spider. Since it did this in a seemingly haphazard manner, this made it rather difficult to find in the vast expanse of the rising mists. While he had tried to stay on the narrow path through the marsh, it was difficult to follow at times and, despite his best efforts, Mouser had already had to dump water from one of his boots after stepping into firm looking but very soft peat that allowed him to sink with virtually no warning.

While generally light enough on his feet that he was able to dance out of such a downdraft, it was about the second or third time that his boot shot down a bit too far to be overtopped with water that he grew extremely frustrated. Grasping the boot carefully, he once again pulled it up slowly to keep it from slipping from his foot and being permanently lost in the muck. Leaning against an adjacent tree, he dumped the water from the boot and placed it back on his foot, not looking forward to the way the wet, supple leather would rub against his foot. As he did, he recalled that there had been no tree there only moments earlier. Then he saw that the tree trunk was actually smooth and barkless, at which point he realized that Sheelba's wandering hut had found him instead of the other way around.

With little squishing sounds as they slipped in and out of the watery surface, the five poles moved in sequence to rotate the hut. When it stopped, a rope ladder fell from the landing above and the Gray Mouser climbed up to keep his appointment with the faceless one.

~F&tGM~

Sheelba of the Eyeless Face was well named, having a smooth, dark and blank field where facial features would ordinarily be; the hood covering the head furthered the mystery. The wizard was taciturn and rather androgynous, too. Neither the wizard's shapeless robe nor the sound of the few words used, like the handwriting on the note, gave clue to the being's gender. In fact, as usual, the Mouser wasn't sure if he was hearing Sheelba's words with his ears or within his head.

In fewer words than the Gray Mouser imagined possible, Sheelba explained that Kralor, a jeweler in Lankhmar, had found and sold a particular gemstone to the wizard for use in one of its arcane works.

"The jeweler later backed out on the sale, returning the advance to my agent without my permission. Unfortunately, cancelling the sale is completely unacceptable. The planned magical process is already underway, and there is no going back without losing my total investment, which far exceeds the cost of the gemstone alone," the faceless one told the Mouser.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Mouser, I had a contract for the sale, and I am quite determined that this sale be completed within two weeks. Your job is to do just that, whether Kralor wishes it or not."

Sheelba added that scrying had shown that the gemstone was locked away in a trunk in the jeweler's bedroom on the top floor of the man's home in Lankhmar. How Mouser completed the sale was completely up to him.

"Your payment for the job is 100 gold coins plus reasonable expenses, with half paid in advance. Agreed?"

Considering his other prospects at the moment were somewhere between slim and none, the Mouser agreed to the terms. With a few final instructions from his employer, Mouser soon found himself climbing down the rope ladder and stepping onto solid ground at the edge of the marsh with the walls of the city of Lankhmar in view in the distance. He had a pouch filled with 50 gold coins, and a second pouch with 25 gold coins for expenses. A third pouch was payment for Kralor.

Mouser turned back to see the walking hut rapidly disappearing into the mists of the marsh. As he did, he scowled.

Why couldn't Sheelba have picked me up at this point in the first place?

~F&tGM~

With the down payment for the job in his coin purse, Mouser paid the overdue rent when he got back to Lankhmar, and then purchased some food and a new jug of ale. He thought about getting a couple of candles, too, but decided that they could stretch the current one for another week or two if they didn't use it much.

It was late in the afternoon, so he took a casual stroll around the neighborhood of the jeweler's home to get a better feel for what would be involved. That's when he found out it was a bit taller than he anticipated.

In fact, it was a real tower about 90-feet tall with a couple of windows at what Mouser guessed would be the fifth level, and then more on each level above that. It was octagonal and about 25-feet across at the base, tapering up to become a circle approximately 20-feet in diameter at about 30-feet above the ground. There was only a single, large and heavily reinforced door at the bottom level, facing the street. The smoothly cut stones around the door appeared different than the rough-cut blocks that made up the rest of the tower.

What could be called the left and right sides of the tower were also exposed, with about 20-feet of clear, cobblestone-covered space to the adjacent building on each side. What puzzled the Mouser, though, was that there was another, single-story building built up against the side of the tower on the back side of the structure, as if the tower was supporting the end of the building. The single-story building connected to a large, two-story apartment-style structure at its far end.

For any operation of this nature, the Gray Mouser knew that research was essential. Not wanting to involve the Thieves' Guild and its new boss in his affairs, he started by spending time in the Lankhmar Library looking at numerous old records of a number of buildings, including those of the tower in question. Then, he spent a couple of days wandering around the area, looking and watching carefully, and finally greasing a few palms with a coin or two gathering information that again included a bit of useful information on Kralor and the tower.

Confirming his suspicions, he learned that the jeweler was a very obstinate and very private man. A simple discussion was unlikely to work in getting him to change his mind about completing the sale. Therefore, a heist it would have to be.

He also learned that Kralor had been in Lankhmar for approximately 30 years, having purchased the complex in the southeastern part of the city about ten years later. He'd sold the lower level buildings, keeping only the tower, one of the tallest in that section of the city. One of his informants claimed to have known someone who worked on the tower at that time, so a few more coins bought more information. The entry through into the tower was originally through the one-story building at the rear, meaning that the front of the building was originally through the two-story building facing the other street on the opposite side of the block. The worker claimed to have helped block up the original door after the current entry was installed.

The Mouser then found a good observation point and spent two days observing the structure and its operation. The jeweler's few customers seemed to be by appointment only and were met by an armed guard who opened the door and ushered them in and back out when their business was concluded. Though the guard departed at the end of the day, the jeweler locked the massive door securely when he left and opened it for him again the next morning when the business reopened.

Mouser knew it was unlikely that he'd be able to get in through the door, but with careful study, he'd soon plotted what he thought was a good route up the outside of the tower. Spending the next day preparing, he'd made his upward climb and the thoroughly frustrating descent that followed.

~F&tGM~

Thus it was the next morning when he was ushered into the foyer of the Prym School. The calendar was winding down toward his deadline and with the warding on the window opening, it was probable that he wouldn't be able to get in through any of them. He needed to see if it might be possible to chip through the blocked up original entrance.

The voice was relatively deep but definitely feminine. "Good day, sir. Welcome to the Prym School. My name is Miss Prym. May I be of service?"

The Gray Mouser was taken somewhat aback as he turned to see a virtual Amazon woman. She was somewhat over 6-feet tall with longish, jet-black hair wearing a dark blue dress that clung to her shapely feminine curves. He saw that she appeared to be in excellent physical condition, and her face, though large to match her size, was even fairly pretty. While the Mouser's tastes didn't usually range to such large women, he could see himself making an exception in this case if circumstances were different.

But circumstances being what they were, he replied with a slight bow, "Good day, Madame. I seek information on your school and possibly on how one might enroll. And, if possible, a tour of your facility."

"Gladly, good sir!" Miss Prym extended an elbow allowing the Gray Mouser to tuck his arm into hers and the tour began. He listened to her presentation on the school as they walked, letting most of the details of which she was obviously so proud float in one ear and out the other. The Mouser was too busy memorizing the facility to be too concerned about what he considered to be the minor details. When they got to the "assembly room," he observed it carefully, including taking a good look at the stonework of the common wall with the tower. Seeing what appeared to be the original entrance, he believed that he would be able to gain access to the tower through the blocked-up area, though it would take a while. If he could enroll in the school and spend his nights in the room undisturbed, he would be able to get through the infill stones, get into the tower, steal the gem, and escape so he could collect his reward and go spend some money!

When they'd finished the lower level, Miss Prym asked if he would like to go upstairs to see one of the classrooms. Wanting there to be no surprises, he agreed. When they looked into the first classroom, he saw an older, very proper-looking woman in the front with ten or twelve rather beautiful teenage girls sitting in a semicircle observing and imitating her movements.

"So the boys and the girls have different classes?" asked the Mouser.

Miss Prym replied indignantly, with just a hint of amusement on her face, "Of course. Boys and girls should always be separated in their studies."

"Yes. Yes, of course," agreed the Gray Mouser as Miss Prym led him down another stair back to the first level.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think this will do. I'd like to enroll."

"Certainly! Is the girl your daughter or perhaps your niece?"

"Uh, what?" he asked with a look of mild confusion.

"The student you wish to enroll. Is she your daughter?" She looked at him a bit strangely as she said in a lower voice, barely above a whisper, "Sir, I'll have you know that the Prym School is the finest and most upstanding finishing school for young ladies in Lankhmar. We do not knowingly accept mistresses in our midst."

The Mouser wasn't sure but he could have sworn that he saw Miss Prym wink after that last statement, but before he could question her, she repeated, "Now, is the young lady your daughter or your niece?"

Thinking on his feet as quickly as he could, Mouser knew that he could pull off playing a girl for a day or two if needed, but pretending that he was his own daughter might expose his secret due to "their" relative ages unless the proper Miss Prym actually believed the girl was his mistress as she seemed to be implying.

Unfortunately, the final look would be too close for that, so he said, "Ahem, she's my niece. She'll be arriving in Lankhmar tomorrow. She'd like to start right away and would like to have one of those private rooms I think you mentioned." He counted out the tuition money for the first month and, with a smile, added a few extra coins to the stack for the private room and the woman's troubles.

"Perfect! And, of course. I look forward to seeing the two of you tomorrow," said the woman as she slowly released the coins to fall through her cleavage. The Mouser's eyes grew wide as he heard the steady clinking of the coins falling into her hidden money pouch.

"Ah, that's a problem," he said with a look of concern on his face. "I, ah, can't be here tomorrow, but she'll be here at noon."

"I'm sorry," said Miss Prym, shaking her head. "Our school policy is that the new student and her parent or guardian must meet with me together to go over our policies on the first day. It would set a very bad example to other current students as well as future students if I were to waive this requirement, so I do not allow exceptions to it. I'm sure you'll be able to work something out, so I'll see you tomorrow."

The Mouser was taken aback by her knowing smile for a moment until it was interrupted by the front door slamming closed in front of him. Looking around, he realized that he was back out on the street in front of the school.

~F&tGM~

Like many times before, the Gray Mouser found that his original plan needed major revisions. Fortunately, by the time he arrived home, he had a new idea that he thought would work. Sadly, it all depended on a big, tall barbarian and his beard.

Fafhrd was sitting in his big chair with the new bottle of ale in his hand. It was already almost half empty. "Mouser! You got new ale! Thank you, my friend!"

The Mouser waved his hand dismissively and told the giant that he was actually on a job. "I've already earned part of the fee, but I could use some of your assistance to complete it."

"Certainly!" roared the barbarian, running a hand over his relatively short but bushy beard, allowing it to spring out when released. "What do I need to do?"

"Well," replied the Gray Mouser, "first, you're going to need to lose that beard."

~F&tGM~

Fafhrd had been all in favor of the job, but he wasn't willing to go so far as to cut off his beard. While it wasn't nearly as important to him as it had been prior to his arrival from the lands of the frigid north, he still generally kept a few inches as a reminder of his homeland. The argument that ensued was almost epic in its scope, becoming even more intense when the Gray Mouser pulled out a small case of makeup that he used in his occasional disguises. Eventually the two men agreed on a plan that suited both of them and thus, some hours and a long ride on rented horses later, they found themselves outside a cave in the Sinking Lands east of Lankhmar and the Great Salt Marsh.

The barbarian stepped forward and saw the ornate cord, a new addition since his last visit. Giving it a pull, he was not surprised to see mist billow from within the cave, followed only a moment later by the arrival of a dark-robed figure.

Based on its size and shape, this being was almost assuredly male, but that certainty could be called into question when its face was visible through the gap in its hood. Similar to the faceless one, this one's cowl also looked dark and empty, except there within the faceless space were a number of wandering lights like ever-lit fireflies. Counting quickly, the Mouser counted six…or was it seven. Like in times past, he really couldn't be sure.

"Fafhrd, my boy!" said Ningauble of the Seven Eyes. "Welcome to my humble abode. And you brought your friend, Mice. Welcome, too, little man."

The Gray Mouser bit his tongue to avoid responding, giving only a nod in reply. The wizard took the two adventurers into a sitting room just down the main corridor, and offered them tea and date biscuits. With food and drink in hand, Fafhrd explained their purpose. Ningauble's eyes stared intently at the barbarian, though the man was sure he saw one eye on the end of a stalk peeking out beyond the hood to stare at his small friend.

"Yes, yes. That is certainly within the realm of possibilities," said the many-eyed wonder. He named a price that was, in the Mouser's opinion, rather high, but since Sheelba would be paying the expenses, the little man agreed and counted out the coins. With a wave, Ningauble took his leave to go prepare the spell.

Some time later, the wizard returned and asked Fafhrd, "You're sure you want to do this, my boy?"

"Not really, but get on with it," replied the barbarian.

"This is a three part spell," said Ningauble. "Part one is actually quite easy." Waving his hands seemingly in time with his eyes, a slight glow was soon covering Fafhrd's body. As it did, the barbarian cried out in surprise as the hair on his massive arms, legs, and assorted other locations suddenly fell from his body like snowflakes in a northern blizzard. Even as this was happening, his nails were transformed into what appeared to be smoothly cut and polished scales. His skin felt as if he'd been rubbed with a pumice stone in the Lankhmar baths and his nose twitched slightly at the smell of…roses?

"Ah, my Marvelous Manicure spell is complete," said the wizard. "And now…"

It was all the Mouser could do from rolling on the cave floor laughing, but he pinched himself to keep Fafhrd from seeing his amusement and perhaps withdrawing from the project. He watched as the robed one waved his hands and eyes in other directions.

Fafhrd yelled, "Aye!" as his previously braided hair was suddenly unfurled and seemingly pressed flat, long and shiny. What sounded like many scissors suddenly snip-snipped through his hair, and the wizard produced a mirror as if from a pocket with a final wave.

As he looked in the mirror at his new hairstyle, Fafhrd's eyes widened and he said, "This is hideous!" as he looked at the feathered curls that now graced his shaggy blonde head topping his bearded face.

"Now, now, my boy. I came across this particular style in my travels across the many worlds and many times. It was said to have been originated by an Angel. I even have the most remarkable painting of her wearing a skimpy red outfit on a wall somewhere in the cave, but I haven't been able to find that particular cavern in quite some time."

Before Fafhrd could object further, Ningauble did what was by far the most intricate hand waving, eye roving, and throat humming yet, after which a yellowish glow covered the barbarian. When it subsided, the wizard went through a list of precautions and sent them on their way.

~F&tGM~

The next morning, the Gray Mouser and his niece Fafrah were ushered into the office of a rather wide-eyed Miss Prym at The Prym School. The girl was about eighteen years of age and about seven feet tall. She was well muscled but with a relatively thin, feminine shape. The lower half of her extremely smooth and not unattractive face below her blonde locks was covered by very short, very fine, very light, blonde hairs.

Miss Prym had a bit of trouble finishing her usual admittance speech, constantly looking back at the tall young woman that made even her six-feet look short. After Fafrah was sent off to her first class in the company of two other students no taller than the Gray Mouser, Miss Prym stared at the slight man and then said, "Your niece? Ri-ight."

Mouser bowed slightly and then replied with a shrug, "Yeah, my older sister married really large."

~F&tGM~

It was about midnight according to the call of the city night watch when "Fafrah" opened the window on the side of the assembly hall and the Gray Mouser climbed inside. After studying the stones for a little while, the small thief opened his bag of tools and was soon scraping at the mortar in a lower joint. Fafhrd declined, not so much to avoid damaging his nails as to keep from messing up the illusion. While it was supposed to last for four days, Ningauble had warned that a sudden, sharp impact could cause it to end prematurely, so "Fafrah" stood to the side watching the door while Mouser scraped quietly and grumbled a tiny bit louder.

"Mouser, you wouldn't believe how much fun some of the classes were today!" said the magically disguised barbarian. "Miz Prym said she's shocked that I'm so light on my feet, and that I was able to do some pretty intricate dance moves after seeing them only once, but some of the others were tough." He laughed, "I remember learning at least one of those dances right after I came to Lankhmar years ago! You wouldn't believe some of the stuff that goes on here, either. I think—shhh! Someone's coming."

The door to the large room opened and Rolf, the elderly guard, stuck his head in holding up a candle. Its light did nothing to illuminate the back of the room where Fafhrd and the Mouser hunched down perfectly still, almost casting more of a shadow than anything. A yawning Rolf quickly moved on and closed the door behind him.

With that scare, the Mouser was spared the titillating stories of the beautiful young ladies and their antics. They worked in silence, with the only sounds being that of the mortar being scraped or chipped and their own breathing.

"Fafhrd, I think I've got it," whispered the Gray Mouser. "Help me with this." He inserted a pry bar from his bag and with his exertion and a little added pressure on the end of the bar from the barbarian, the outer stone soon moved. They shifted it to the side and Mouser attacked the rubble fill that made up the inner wythe of the wall. Bit by bit went into a burlap bag, but a thin dust soon filled the air.

When a cock crowed early in the morning announcing the upcoming rising of the sun, Mouser was working on the rough mortared joint of what appeared to be the last, inside wythe of stone. Finishing it and gaining entry would have to wait until the next night, so the two men shoved the outer stone back into its hole to hide their activities and the Gray Mouser went out the window into the shadows below. Fafhrd dropped both of the burlap bags that the Mouser had filled with rubble, leaving the little man wishing he hadn't filled them so full as he dragged them off for disposal.

Fafhrd quickly dusted down the room as best he could and then snuck back off to bed for a couple of hours of sleep before "Fafrah" was called to class.

~F&tGM~

A nearly exhausted Mouser slept well that day despite the many noises from the streets and buildings of Lankhmar. When night came again, he was ready and was waiting expectantly when the assembly room window opened at about midnight. After handing up his bag, a bucket, a water flask, and a belted pouch, he was met by a yawning Fafhrd. The large man quietly and rather excitedly filled him in on his day's adventures while they removed the outer block once more and the Mouser attacked the inside mortar joint again.

"The girls got up and ate breakfast, but I got in trouble for sleeping through it. Ms. Prym really gave me the business while I was lying in bed under the cover with my feet sticking out. Thank goodness my toenails didn't get messed up! After she left, I got up and dressed but realized that my hair was all dusty, so I brushed it out as well as I could and then braided it up so it wouldn't show."

"When I got to class, Miss Prym saw me and turned twenty shades of purple! She said that a proper woman never braids her hair outside her boudoir, so that woman changed the lesson and did a lesson on hair care using me as the model. Oh, Mouse, you should have seen all those lovely young ladies running their hands through my hair! It was almost heaven," grinned the feminine looking barbarian.

"It was almost heaven!" groused the Mouser in a low whisper that even Fafhrd could not hear. Glancing up at the starry-eyed giant as he pulled out of the hole, the little man shook his head thinking that Fafrah's hair looked almost exactly as it had when they emerged from Ningauble's strange caverns almost 36-hours earlier.

"That Miss Prym is something else," whispered Fafhrd. "She's tall and gorgeous and very...well, demanding. She'd be quite a handful. I think I might really like to get to know her better."

The Mouser rolled his eyes at the thought, but fortunately to forestall any more of Fafhrd's wide-eyed dreaming, he told the barbarian that he was ready.

The big man set down in front of the hole, pulled himself forward as close as he could with his legs bent, and, with the Mouser bracing his back, he pushed to extend his legs.

Nothing happened, though the Mouser was pushed further away. While he worked on the joint again, Fafhrd moved a cabinet in front of the hole so he would be able to develop more thrust against the stone. The second time, the inside stone shifted. The Gray Mouser quickly shimmied through the hole and disappeared into the darkness of the tower.

~F&tGM~

Fafhrd had moved the cabinet back and cleaned up the room as well as he could while waiting for the Mouser's return. He was yawning and stretching when Miss Prym's sharp voice caught him unaware.

"Fafrah! What are you doing here at this time of night? You're supposed to be in your room getting your beauty sleep!"

The barbarian turned to see the woman holding a candle and his eyes grew large at the sight. She was wearing a very thin peignoir that left less to his imagination than he'd already enjoyed imagining. Seeing the large "girl's" eyes, the woman pulled her outer robe closed around her, and said, "Well? I'm waiting."

The disguised man stuttered in his best falsetto, "Uh, I was, ah, worried about the grace moves we learned in class today, so I was practicing them and, uh, some of the dance moves. I was afraid that I'd get kicked out of school and my uncle would be upset with me." He feigned looking sad as he added, "I really want to do well here and not disappoint him."

Dealing with young girls every day, Miss Prym also had a compassionate streak that tempered her authoritarianism, at least somewhat. "Oh, dear, it will be okay. Show me."

Fafhrd's eyes grew wider still as she placed him on the spot, but he started with what might have been Nehwon's worst-ever curtsy. Miss Prym shook her head while stifling a smile. "Fafrah, a larger woman must sometimes make minor adjustments to make moves smoother and less awkward looking. Here, like this…"

A bit later, the headmistress shooed her student back to bed. "Nice job! But don't let me catch you out of your room at night again. If you need help, tell me and I'll be sure you get the extra practice you need at some hour other than the dark of night." With the giant girl back in her little room with her well-manicured feet hanging off the end of the bed, Miss Prym closed the door and returned to her room for a few more hours of sleep.

~F&tGM~

It was about an hour later when a tired but exhilarated Gray Mouser emerged from the hole.

Realizing that Fafhrd was gone, he assumed he'd gotten too tired and gone back to bed, so he set out to close the opening. He quickly wiped up the dust from around the hole on the inside of the tower. Mixing the mortar mix in his bucket with some water from his flask, he spread a little bit on the back sides and top of the inside stone. With a thin cord around the stone, he pulled it back into position, and then pulled one end of the cord so that it slipped through. The stone appeared to be aligned as well as he could get it based on the grooves he'd made in some of the surrounding mortar, and he could only hope that the mortar hadn't squirted out the front to reveal that it was fresh.

Ignoring the missing rubble layer, he buttered the larger, outer stone on his side of the wall and then slowly rocked it back into position. "Where's the barbarian when you need him?" he whispered to himself as it eased closer to the right spot. When it was finally there, he took some mortar on his fingertip and ran it around the joint. A few more applications like that and the hole seemed to have disappeared. Wiping things down, he moved things to the window and, using the looped cord, lowered them to the ground below. A few minutes later, he dropped to the ground, too, and, after gathering up his equipment, disappeared into the dark streets of Lankhmar.

It was about an hour later when a second-story window opened at the school. With the bed made, the big barbarian lowered his small bag to the ground using the same method employed shortly before by the Mouser, and then he hung from the windowsill. With one hand, he pulled the window down as well as he could, and then, fully extended, dropped the last few feet to the ground below. The resulting impact caused Fafrah to disappear forever, and the blonde haired barbarian with a thick beard and a feathered mane was soon making his way home. As he did, he hoped that his disappearance wouldn't cause Miss Prym too much concern.

~F&tGM~

Late the next morning, the Gray Mouser was in the midst of the Great Salt Marsh. With his boots soaked through, the young man was searching the mists for Sheelba's wandering hut. Gentle swishing sounds eventually caused him to turn to find the hut about to place another pole down as it snuck up behind him. Discovered, the hut halted, almost as if sheepishly, and the rope ladder fell from above.

Sheelba seemed as happy as Sheelba ever seemed to receive the gemstone and the Mouser's brief report. The climb through the tower had been uneventful, and picking the lock on the trunk with Kralor asleep only a few feet away had gone even better than Mouser had expected. He'd replaced the gemstone as instructed, and hadn't bothered anything else in the trunk.

The faceless one seemed to study the Gray Mouser, or perhaps the aura around him, for a few moments before a small bag seemed to appear in hand from up the oversized sleeve.

Mouser took the bag and pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Expenses."

Sheelba took the paper, studied it for a second, and then handed it back to the little man with a second bag with a few coins. Every item on the list was checked off except for the line that read, "Magical assistance from Ningauble" with a detailed list below. There was a mark through that one, which actually represented the largest expense for the entire job.

"Why aren't you paying for this one?" he asked. "It was the most important thing on here."

The dark facelessness seemed to bore into his soul as it replied, "Perhaps. But that insufferable loudmouth charged you twice as much as it was worth when I would have provided the same assistance for the job for free. Consider it a lesson learned."

~F&tGM~

Late that evening, the Gray Mouser made his way to the apartment with Geena, the buxom brunette waitress from the Silver Cup tavern near the waterfront and his occasional date. He opened the door and ushered her inside, but at once was surprised to see what appeared to be a tall, well-shaped woman sitting on Fafhrd's lap in his great chair with his arms wrapped around her. Her back was to him but dark black hair fell below her shoulders. The barbarian was sporting a new, somewhat shorter haircut.

Geena giggled at the sight and took the bottle of wine from his hand so she could open it. As she did, Fafhrd looked up and the Mouser was shocked to see a slightly disheveled Miss Prym smiling at him. "Mouser! You know Miss Prym. I've already apologized to her for my daughter's abrupt departure from her school. I told her that it appeared your sister, my dear-ex, had made other plans for the girl." He winked at the Mouser as his fingertip gently traced down the woman's jaw, turning the tall woman's face back toward his own.

The Gray Mouser looked away from what followed. Perhaps even rather severe headmistresses needed the opportunity to let their hair down occasionally. Turning back to Geena who was offering him a cup of wine, he accepted as he realized that the evening promised to be an interesting one for both Fafhrd and himself. While they didn't make as much on the job as they planned, the Gray Mouser smiled at the thought that sometimes money spent was well spent.

~F&tGM~

Epilogue:

It was several days later when Kralor the jeweler found the need to open his trunk. When he did, he opened the pouch with the special gemstone to find it missing. In its place was a piece of black coal of the exact size and shape as the gemstone plus some platinum coins and a copy of the original agreement he'd made with Sheelba. When he counted the coins and made the conversion in his head, he realized that the number exactly matched the originally agreed purchase price.

Despite this, Kralor was about to cry out that he'd been robbed, but he stopped and slowly reconsidered. With such a powerful opponent who could make something disappear from his locked chest, he decided to accept the money, call the deal complete, and never deal with wizards again.

The End

Author's Notes:

Thanks so much for reading this tale; I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. If so and if you'd like to see Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and their friends return, please leave a review letting me know your thoughts.

Also, as noted earlier, this was written in a hurry, so if you see problems, please let me know and I'll address them appropriately. Many thanks to my reviewers who have given feedback allowing me to fix a few issues.