Chapter 18.

As soon as they had returned to the galley, Kaulder took Coucou aside and glared at him.

"All right. Spill it!"

The transplanted pooka (once more in the form of a melanistic Great Dane) tilted his head quizzically.

"Spill what?"

"You heard Captain Greycloak. That girl is little more than a walking puppet! One animated by a trio of life essences. Two of those essences belong to women abducted from my world. But the third belongs to a girl from your world. Who is she? And what's her story? Because I'm not the only one who noticed she seems to have fragmented memories of this world!"

Coucou hesitated.

"Would you rather I have Captain Greycloak probe your mind?"

"Ya wouldna dare!" exclaimed the pooka.

"Oh, I imagine you'll initially fight it," replied Kaulder: "Real hard! But I'm betting such resistance will prove painful. . .and ultimately futile. So, why not save her all that effort- -not to mention, your dignity- -by just telling us the truth up front?"

Coucou looked at the elfin ranger captain and saw the "I-dare-you" smile that stealthily appeared on her face. So, he looked at the floor in defeat and nodded.

"She was born Helene. Daughter and only child of Queen Luisa of Carpia and her king-consort, the Lord Magus Gabriel."

The stunned silence that followed could easily have been disrupted by the dropping of a pin. But, as Kaulder did not have one handy, he looked at Valendra.

"Is he telling the truth?"

"As he perceives it, yes."

Coucou looked at her and growled.

"I'm neither lyin', nor daft, ya crinti mongrel! I swear by all I hold sacred that she's the Princess Helene. Rightful heir to the throne of Carpia!"

"If that's true," said Kaulder. ". . .how did she wind up on a parallel-Earth in eighteenth century France?"

"It happened when the princess was only two days old. The castle was attacked in the middle of the night! First, by owl-bears scalin' the walls. Then, after one or two of them reached the drawbridge and lowered it, by an army of worg-ridin' trolls led by the one now known as Turok the Usurper. The palace guard did their best to repel the invaders. But the element of surprise proved too great! So, when the castle's fall became certain, Lord Gabriel sent the queen and their child away on a flyin' carpet from southern Faerun. Accompanied by me in the form of a giant phoenix!"

"Why you?"

"Ach! I first met Lord Gabriel when he was still just the apprentice of m' old drinkin' acquaintance; the wizard Sangimel. So, he knew I was mischievous, but capable. Basically, of good alignment. So, the night that those three additional moons first appeared in the skies over Carpia, durin' Queen Luisa's third trimester of pregnancy, he did some rune-readin'. To see whether or not the queen was in danger of givin' premature birth! But, whatever he truly read, it made him desperate enough to virtually abduct me from Sarifal; the Faerunian island m' people call home, And, then, bind me to his unborn child with a geas that compelled me to always be near her and protect her! Such bein' the case, I had no choice but to follow the flyin' carpet to Sangimel's old dug-out cabin. There, we landed in the center of a teleportation circle that Lord Gabriel must've made in advance, around the whole place, before renderin' it invisible so that only the second sight of a phoenix could penetrate it! Because the next thing I know? We're in front of a nunnery called 'St. Valerie of the Little Red Riding Hood.' With Queen Luisa dyin' from exposure, and post-natal exhaustion, moments after we arrived."

Kaulder frowned, skeptically: "Didn't the nuns get scared by the presence of a giant phoenix?"

"Ach! What do ya take me for? By the time they got to the front door, I was up in a nearby treetop in the form a raven! One of many forms I've taken, over the last twenty-odd years (time runnin' a wee bit faster there than here) to keep watch on the princess. Sometimes, I've been a rock dove. Other times, a cuckoo. But, most of the time. . .I've been her loyal black stallion. So, if ya don't mind, I'd like to return to her cabin, so she can wake up, and find me sleepin' at her bedside, first thing in the mornin'."

Whereupon, the counterfeit canine padded out of the galley, unhindered.

BALDUR'S GATE (DAWN OF THE FOURTH DAY)

The Gray Hawk Inn prided itself on the freshness of the eggs laid by the hens in the chicken coop out back. And the rooster in charge of keeping those hens fertile crowed, as expected, at the first hint of sunrise. But Mooc Yaric, Lord Marshal of the Flying Huntsmen, failed to appreciate that fact. Not when it only succeeded in amplifying the pain of his hang-over!

"Saint Dionysys forgive me," he muttered: "I shouldn't have overdone all that mushroom wine, last night. No matter how grateful Lord Thann was!"

When the Flying Huntsmen had finished escorting the Dire Shark back into port, the previous evening, Captain Vrackmul had led the rest of the Knights of the Flaming Fist in cheering the daring accomplishment. He had then taken Marshal Yaric aside, shortly afterward, to introduce him to Lord Nicolaas Thann. The latter explained his situation, then got right to the point.

"You would find me most grateful if you and your men could let the good captain and his men commander this airjammer for a quick round trip to Pylea and back. Queen Glordelia, herself, has requested our finest mushroom wine for her wedding reception!"

"My apologies, Lord Thann. But we must go through the proper channels. Turning the vessel over to the port master for sale to the highest bidder at public auction. Which entails sending out couriers with official notices for all those within horseback-riding distance."

"I know," exclaimed the frustrated vintner. "But they'll be riding normal horses! That means it will be at least a month before a sufficient number of potential bidders has gathered to hold such an auction!"

"I cannot change the law, Milord," replied the marshal. "I merely enforce it. Now, if you'll excuse me? I must see to the feeding of my men."

The Flying Huntsmen, of course, ate (and drank) at the Gray Hawk Inn. The innkeeper treating the lower-ranking warriors to Blue Dragon whisky. While the higher-ranking warriors received free samples of mushroom wine from the province of Mystara.

"Compliments of Lord Thann," Shandalar explained.

"Please!" beamed the vintner. "Call me Laas."

"I thank you, Milord," Marshal Yaric pointedly replied. "But my original answer stands."

All this now vanished from his mind, however, as a fresh wave of pain swept through his head as the result of someone knocking on the door to his room.

"Come in, blast you!"

The door opened, and a man with a now-familiar beaming face came in.

"Good morning, Lord Marshal. I'm sorry to disturb you at this early hour. But I was wondering if, now that you have slept on it, I could prevail upon you, once more, to change your mind."

"For the last time, Milord. . ."

"Please! Call me Laas."

Yaric suddenly became rigid of posture and glassy eyed of expression.

"Call- - -you- - -Laas."

The vintner's smile broadened into an absolutely feral grin. "Excellent! Then, let's get the rest of your men out of bed and fully dressed for the voyage to Pylea."

"Y-Y-Yes. . .Laas."

tbc