The Princess and the Hand Glass
by VStarTraveler
Summary:
The Gray Mouser interrupts an attempted abduction of a pampered but dispirited princess but then must flee with her to avoid becoming yet another victim of the attackers. Before he can get her home safely, her curiosity about an ancient item complicates matters so he must protect her from not only the kidnappers and other dark elements of Lankhmar but also from himself!
Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction, written totally for fun and not for profit. This interpretation of Fafhrd, the Gray Mouser, 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.
Special Thanks:
This story was inspired in part by the July 2016 writing challenge on the Writers Anonymous forum. There was much more story to tell than the rules allowed for the contest so it was not entered, but I really appreciate the idea that became central to the story. I won't mention exactly what that was to avoid a major spoiler!
Thanks, Rhea Silverkeys and Writers Anonymous, for the inspiration!
Chapter 1:
Long ago in the lands far to the east of what the Lankhmarese call the Eastern Lands, there lived a powerful and ambitious king. Wishing to expand and strengthen his kingdom, he married the very beautiful and intelligent queen from a neighboring country, thereby uniting the two nations into one.
All was well for almost twenty years, but as the years passed, the king saw the queen slowly starting to age. He witnessed this without admitting to the changes taking place in his own body so he increasingly ignored his wife and eventually took a beautiful young mistress. To declare his ardor for the young woman, he ordered his wise men to oversee the creation of a fabulous item of great beauty that would equal that of the young lady. He left the particulars to them. After much discussion by the advisors, they settled on the gift and commissioned the object's creation.
When the queen learned of the item through one of the advisors more loyal to her than to the king, she ordered her network of spies to intercept it before it could be delivered to her royal husband. On looking at the object for the first time, she suddenly had a moment when she saw very clearly what was happening. She then had her agents locate and discreetly eliminate the king's young mistress. However, the king had spies, too, and on learning of her deed, he attempted to remove her from the throne.
A period of civil war ensued. The kingdom was eventually divided into two parts along basically the original lines of its two components, with each monarch holding their original part. However, the ruler of a neighboring kingdom even more powerful than either of the two waited until the time was right and then invaded. Both kingdoms fell with the king and his alienated queen both being killed.
The by-then infamous item of great beauty was secretly taken in the spoils from the queen's baggage train following the final battle and it disappeared from history.
~F&tGM~
Several hundred years later in the borderlands east of the land of Mnar...
The raid on the caravan came off much as the bandit chief had planned but Karsbal could only watch from a distance. He wasn't allowed to join in the attack or the looting that followed. His job was to hold the raiders' ponies.
For nine years, he had held their mounts during every attack, the successful and the not-so. For nine years, he watched from a distance, learning over time to anticipate basically every move made by his band and those of the caravan staff, as well as recognizing the errors made on both sides. Still, he was not a strong man so he was relegated to keeping the ponies and for nine years, his share of the treasure was so small that he knew he would never be able to buy a really good sword, a second pony, or even afford a dowry for a wife, much less a somewhat pretty one.
He wished to stomp in anger but knew that might scare the ponies so he gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath instead. He desperately wanted to go out to help ransack the goods on the pack animals that the forward part of the caravan had left behind, but Cheljen Hon, the bandit leader, would slay him without mercy if he left his post. Therefore, Karsbal had no outlook on life, no future; he had only the prospect of continuing to hold the ponies.
Walking back and forth as far as the lead on the string of ponies would allow, he continued to watch as the cleanup operations were underway. It was then that his sharp ears suddenly heard something that was out of the ordinary, a rustling sound. Turning, he pulled his short and ancient broadsword and held it out in front of him as a wide-eyed man came crawling out of the thick prairie grass.
Stumbling to his feet, the man was as surprised as Karsbal, his eyes widening further and his hands thrown up to just above shoulder level. He rattled off something in an impossibly fast and completely incomprehensible language, leading Karsbal to stab the short sword in his direction to shut the man up and take control of the situation.
"Who are you? Where are you from?"
The man shook his hands up and down a couple of times, having no clue what Karsbal had asked, but then he held both hands out in a gesture that seemed to mean "stop." The man nodded down toward his chest and pinched his forefinger and thumb together a couple of times.
Karsbal nodded slightly in return, and the man slowly reached his left hand inside his tunic. When the bandit frowned and shook the sword again, the man nodded quickly and drew out a small packet wrapped and tied in a black cloth. Pointing in the distance away from the caravan and the raiders who seemed to be wrapping up their work, the man unleashed another torrent and then held out the packet to Karsbal.
Not knowing what it held but knowing that it seemed valuable to his prisoner, he nodded and the man handed the packet into his hand. His eyes widening with a requesting nod, the man gave one last statement, of which Karsbal would only remember what sounded like "Gris-lins" and "Langh-mah."
With Karsbal's brief nod in reply, the man turned and ran into the wilderness, never to be seen by the petty bandit again.
Karsbal placed the packet inside his own tunic just before the first of the bandits returned. He struggled for the next two days to find enough privacy to open it without being caught by Cheljen Hon or any of the other raiders.
When that private opportunity finally arrived after they returned to their main camp, Karsbal untied the cloth and then carefully opened it to reveal a small bag with seven gemstones of various sizes and colors and a gold necklace with a large, green emerald setting. Treasure! His hand was almost shaking at the thought. I'm rich for the first time in my life!
Flush with excitement, he looked at the last item, an old, distressed-leather sheath. It was definitely out of place next to the other items, but after the initial good fortune, he hoped it would be some type of a powerful, though rather small, weapon. Taking a chance, he squeezed the edges of the sheath slightly to open it. When he did, he peeked inside to see a shiny silver and gold object. His eyes grew large at the surprise; he was certain this was the most precious metal he'd ever held. Finally, he had a real treasure!
His hand was shaking as he very carefully pulled out the object, which was about 9 to 10 inches long. Looking something akin to a small paddle, there was a silver handle with rolling undulations topped with gold crests, which reminded the bandit of the rolling hills far to the north or the small waves he had once witnessed when his band had visited the shore of the Sea of Monsters. There were also five fabulous, matching red rubies embedded near the bottom forming what appeared to be a flower. The handle made up just less than half of its length but it was the other end that was really interesting. It was silver with gold inlay like the handle, but when he turned it over, he saw the material seemingly flowed around to the front as if those waves crashing on that distant beach. In the center was an oval-shaped silvered reflecting glass of incredible workmanship. Looking into the glass allowed Karsbal, the petty bandit, to see himself clearly for the first time in his life.
It was at that exact time that Karsbal experienced a moment of great clarity; he knew just what he was to do. Suddenly, Karsbal had a future.
~F&tGM~