I woke half-awake having to endure only fragments of dream, and found myself smiling in consequence.  And that saved my life.

"Lo, father, I cannot strike down a helpless man who smiles so sweetly, even if he be demon borne."

A babble of protests that I should be killed, but for various reasons attended my opening my eyes to the crossing arched lines in stone Gothic style cathedral’s vaulted ceiling.  In front of me, a slim rapier hovered in front of my unprotected throat.  The young dandy in purple and silks held the blade with the kind of casual competence that only comes to the very skilled.  Despite his eye-hurting ensemble of puffy, slashed white and purple leggings, the soft velvet tunic with gold tassels made of cloth of gold, I think, and the midnight cloak trimmed with stained purple fur, and bedecked with gold and silver stars, I took him seriously.

Next to this vision, the cleric in a gold and white kimono looked positively austere as he ranted against the ‘evil heresy of demonic activity which all the gods proclaim to be false.’

And since I had caused ‘the young lord Caprician to entertain such thoughts, then surely I was of evil, and should be slain, post-haste.’  I gaped at him in sheer astonishment at his ‘logical assumptions’ and made a note to stay on the local clergy’s good side if I could, and far away if I could not.

"I am a servant of the One God…." I began only to be drowned out by shrieks from the priest.

"Heretic! Heretic!"  His face turned red and white in separate splotches which looked decidedly unhealthy for him, and for different reasons for me.  Of course, being the smart aleck that I am, I considered trying to provoke a heart attack, and claiming it was the judgment of God.  However, that would be very mean, and blasphemous to boot, and thus a really bad idea.  However, the thought did cross my mind.

"How about a test?" I asked, and suddenly I had their undivided attention.  Evidently I’d said something that resonated with this culture.  "My God versus your god."

"Let him up, son." The Voice of Unquestioned Authority spoke after his initial shock and fear that I was some assasin.  It was the local noble, and he wore purple and white as well, but only in small does to highlight his grey steel armor, and the pepper and salt of his balding scalp fringe were also set off by a silver and amethyst crown.

I stood, and bowed to the VUA, or the Temporal Lord, and noted with interest that ‘Burn him now!’ cleric had gone instantly silent. He waved me to speak, and I outlined the test.  I would fight this priest with the power of the One God, and he could call on his god.  Last man standing would win the arguement.

He nodded.

"However, foreigner. We do not worship one deity here, but five.  The Old Man, the Maid of Joy, the Lucky Lady, the Swordwarden, and the Black Hand are our gods with the Lady and the Old Man being specially honored in my city. I am Count Descrunieux of Ironford."

The room was already filled for some sort of ceremony for the young dandy, and it required a bit of work to get everyone scooted back, and the wooden pews pulled out of the way for me and Cleric Know to have our chance to slaughter each other in the names of our gods.  I fully intended to avoid killing him since I don’t think the Creator generally approves of slaughter on his behalf unless there’s no better way.  And when you’re engaging specifically in a religious war, you ought to be really sure of that.

However, from the darkly furious looks Know was casting my way from the other end of the cathedral, I was sure he intended to take his gold overlaid hawthorn staff, with its giant ruby, and the five pointed tines encircling and rising above it, and fetch my heart from my chest.  So I began praying, and instantly I felt there was something wrong.

Oh, I could feel the presence of the Most High, but it felt like He was trying to tell me something.  Somehow, I had really put my foot into a beartrap this time, and the worst thing was I could not see it.  I prayed again asking for answers, for something plain and simple, like a whisper in my ear.

Like…"Tadeusz, here’s where you’re messing up…."  But nothing came even as Know began to chant to the Old Man for protection, and a shimmering light fell from the windows to bathe him in glowing light.  Okay, its possible that I might be asking for something too small.  Perhaps a lack of faith on my part, or simply that in some worlds, God and the various spirits don’t give out certain powers.

Perhaps in this world, the spirits did not give advice.  It would be odd, but then I’d seen far odder things in my travels throughout the Multiverse.

Know was advancing, and this time he chanted to Lady Luck, and my feet fell out from underneath me, and I almost cracked my head on the stone floor.  If I hadn’t turned my fall into a nice judo tumble, I’d be staring up at the ceiling again with a dumb look on my face.

So, I called for fire as did Elijah.  My voice boomed through the cathedral, and fear touched many a face as I asked God to send down a flame to strike the ground in front of Know, and melt the stones in front of his feet.  Nothing like a ten feet mass of ten thousand degree flames that literally melted stone so that it ran like microwaved too long butter to convince someone that the One God is ticked off at them. 

And I got nothing but an increased sense of ‘You’re not paying attention, Tadeusz.’ that hammered into my skull.  Know laughed at me, and my God.  The latter hurt far more.  Somehow, I’d let the Creator down.

And so when the dazzling light burst from his staff, and smashed into my chest, and I fell into rest, it was a blessing.  For it took away my shame for a while, and so I slept without dreams, and perhaps I died.

I woke from versing out, or from unconsciousness with the stink of human waste, and unwashed skin in my nostrils, and a rat nibbling at my ear.  I jerked upright, and batted the rat away to find my chest flaming with pain.  Okay, I had not died.  If I still hurt like I’d been par-broiled on a bbq for a couple minutes, and my breathing was shallow because ribs were broken, then I had not been healed by versing into a new universe.

The cage was of wood, with inch and a half thick bars every two inches on all the sides including top and bottom.  I could just barely sit up with an inch of clearance for my head.  If I laid down, I had to go kitty-corner on one of the two longest axes since in breadth it was only five feet wide.

Beyond my cage were other cages, all tied together, with a lantern light that was firm and clear to show me the stone room.  It looked to be a converted wine cellar turned into an impromptu dungeon, and the cages were more the sort to be used for animals.  This told me interesting things about this culture.

The other cages were filled, with only one of the ten empty, and a couple of them had two people in them.  Let me be clear, as in most times and places, the prison was populated by men.  If there were women, they were elsewhere, and I’d imagine treated a bit better than this, which was fine with me.

There was some jabbering and shouting reminiscent of before, and then one man, with a missing eyeball shouted the others to silence.

"Who are you, and what are you in for?"

"I’m Tadeusz, and I challenged Cleric Know to a duel.  I lost."

They grew quiet, and then they buzzed in speculation.  The one-eyed leader waved them quiet.

"Well then, welcome to the Association of Thieves, Swindlers, Bodybaggers, and Ne’erdowells.  Anyone with the guts to take on Know-it-all is a-ok with me."

I got to shake a few hands, and smile at a few who were too far away.

"Are you a wizard or a cleric?"

"Both.  I am magician and miracle-worker.  But I failed this day."

"Bah. We all fail.  You just got to try again.  Why look at me. I’ve tried to steal the Gem of the Lady’s Eye thrice from the Temple Cliff, and lost my pinkie finger the first time, my eye the second, and well, this is my third.  But I’m planning a fourth once I escape."

I nodded, and took heart.  A thief giving me advice, but it was good advice, and so I would not scorn it.

"Bah. You’ll be wormfood by week’s end, One-eye." One man who had crouched in his cage’s corner away from the conniviality spat out, and I could see his words lash ‘One-eye’.  Evidently, they took ‘three-strikes and you’re out’ seriously around here.

But, I saw One-eye rally.

"Then the Gods will bring me back in the Seventh Age of Man, and I’ll steal it then!"

My eyes almost clicked together.  A glowing light source that seemed magic?  Reincarnation? Seventh Age?  What was going on here, dear Lord?

"Will they now?" The reclusive one hissed, and then turned to leer at me with a face twisted by perversity, and eyes filled with dedicated malice.  I’d seen the faces of imps with less evil in them.

His comment provoked some general shouting, but it also ended the party.  Now no one seemed interested in talking, or enjoying one another’s company.  It felt like a black fog had fallen across the room, and stranded us each in our individual islands far from love and light.

I wanted to cringe back, but instead, I examined my soul, and wondered.

An hour later, my internal time clock told me, the doors opened and Caprician entered followed by his father, and Know, and a brutish man in full plate, and with a wild, black beard.

The cleric spoke a word and light bloomed in the room.  All but the recluse and me, got to our knees and bowed to the cleric and the god he represented.  And then out from behind them a young female of good family stepped to look at the most unprepossessing lot of us.

In other worlds, such a beauty might have gotten a whistle, or even lewd suggestions, but here I noted no one said them.  Violence as public policy has a way of creating the appearance of good manners.

"Dear brother.  I fail to see why you want to see this lot."

"A…A friend suggested I come down here."  He was obviously hiding something, and I could see from the strawberry blonde’s determined look that she planned to winkle it out of him.  "I need a thief.  All the Great Quests have one."

"Get a Dwarven Locksmith.  Thats what Hipforood is doing, I heard."  The man in plate spoke like a mountain avalanching.  He looked at me, and nodded.  Both he and I recognized a skilled fighter.  "Take that one.  He’s tough."

"No, no, no." Know said his voice rising from tenor to alto to sophrano with each word.  "He’s to be burned, sir knight."

"Oh." The knight shrugged his massive shoulders, and nodded with a glance at me with the implicit message. ‘Well, I tried, buddy, but you’re out of luck.’  I nodded back accepting his kindness.

"Besides he’s a heretic.  His god has no power, and …"  The sermon or rant might have gone on for some time, but the recluse interrupted.

"Just like your god, Know-nothing."

After that, things happened fast.  The cleric looked shocked that someone would deliberately insult him, and while he was processing this, the blonde girl ran down the last of the steps, and charged up to the recluse to punch him in his invitingly presented nose.  All of us in the room were shouting "Noooooo….." even as she doubled up her fist to punch through the space between the bars.

The cleric was trying to think of a spell, and the knight leapt from the stairs, and came clanking down behind her just a two-step too slow.  The blow landed, as it was meant too, and blood spurted everywhere.

"Take that, you…"

And he grabbed her arm, and yanked her up to the pit of her shoulder against the bars, and put one long, yellow finger nail up next to her eye, and the other wrapped about her neck.

Everyone froze.

"I can certainly pluck out her eye.  And maybe rip out young Princess Lyria’s throat."

"I’ll kill you." The Cleric, the Knight, and Caprician who had somehow gotten to where he was standing on top of the cages with his rapier out and touching the back of the madman’s neck all spoke in low and complete ernest.

"But can you restore her beauty, Know-nothing?  Lyria’s already known throughout the Seven Kingdom’s as the most beautiful maiden.  Her fame has spread beyond your League of Free-states."

It seemed an odd thing to say.  It was, I could tell, by their faces, the truth.  And in truth, she was lovely as a spring flower.  But to name her fame as her most valued attribute….

"Can you, know-nothing?"

"No." The cleric spoke, sagging.

"But, I will not kill you.  I will have you flayed alive, and feed you your fingers roasted on an open flame…"  The Count went on in this fashion for nearly a minute, and no one in the room doubted that he would keep every word of his oath.  So when the recluse responded to this premeditated and sincere display of terror with raucous laughter, we all knew defeat.

He began to speak of his demands, and even I could tell that he aimed for the impossible.  He did not just want a fast horse, and a bag of silver.  He also wanted the heads of the men who captured him, and ‘hey, why not toss in Caprician’s head too’.

My respect for Caprician grew greater when he volunteered without stint to take his sister’s place, but the father forbad it with a face twisted by pain.  And something about this laughter, this deliberate malice reminded me of someone.

It was demonic.

Humans have the abiltity to truly mess things up on their own.  Not every bit of true insanity, and vileness can be laid at the feet of Those Who Gnaw in Shadow.  But human history would have been far brighter if we had not been influenced or controlled.

Doubt assailed me.  The light glowing from the priest’s staff, a simple miracle, and yet I knew I could not manage it gouged at my heart.  What if I was wrong?  What if I made things….worse?  Hard to make things worse I knew.  And that was what prompted me to act.

I rose to one foot, and my knee, and held out an arm like a lance.

"In the Name of Christ. The Three-in-One, the One God!" I roared out, and the recluse began to turn my way, and tighten his fingers about the princess’s pale neck. "I command you, halt! Stop at once."

With my teeth bared, I glared into his face, and he snarled at me, and shook her like a leaf, rattling her thin body against the bars in a display of strength that was not human.

"Be silent! I am the emmissary of the Waiting…."

"Shuddup." My fury banked to ice cold authority. "You will…" I paused to savor the word. "Release her at once.  You will, do no harm to her.  I am a servant of the One God and the Blood of Christ compels you, demon."

He sagged.

"Mercy…"

"Go to Hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars."  The retort passed my lips even as I rejected his plea for mercy.  And I could see in his eyes a recognition of where my unthinking quote came from.  That interested me as I doubted if the locals new about Monopoly the Board Game.

"Later. Tadeusz. We’ll meet again." He said with soft fervor, and then his body slumped, and he dropped Lyria from his grasp.  The knight lunged forward to grab her, and Caprician leapt to put his body between her and the recluse.  But he did not move even as the crying girl was ushered off to safety.

There was a bit of swearing after this, and then the knight and the count examined the recluse.  He did not move, even when they both poked him with their swords.  Finally, with considerable caution, they opened his cage, and verified that he was indeed dead.  After this, they had men-at-arms bind him, and take him to the incinerator.

Which seemed rather a lot of trouble for a dead thief if you ask me.

The knight and the count stepped over to me, and looked most intently on my face.

"I owe you.  I don’t know how.  You have no gem of authority given by the gods, but despite what my cleric is bound to tell me, I know this was no accident.  No fortuitous heart attack that happened to coincide with your commanding a ‘demon’."  The count spoke with his keen eyes searching me.

"Christ has the power to bind demons."  I replied.  "He defeated the greatest of them on a hill of death."

"Our gods tell us there are no demons." The knight said. "But in my fights with barbarians, and occasionally in the back alleys of some of the city-states, I’ve seen a few things that a priest in his temple in the daylight is not going to believe."

They waited.

And then I figured out what they wanted.

"I’m not going to go out and upset your social order immediately if thats what you’re asking.  Not enough proof here."

The count nodded.

"Yes, I’ve seen a thing or two myself.  The ambassador of the Thardians never seems quite….right.  I feel like I’m looking into a pool of infinite malice when I look into his eyes.  But my clerics tell me I’m imagining things, and warn me of what might happen if I defy the gods."

"Okay, but may I ask for something? Reduce their sentences by half, and make One-eye there your thief."  I spoke from concern for my fellows, and yet the last bit I had not precisely planned on saying.  But now that I said it, it seemed right and fitting.  It was as if, the Creator had nudged my tongue just a tid-bit, not that I was truly inspired I would guess, but a nudge from the Boss is one to pay attention too.

They laughed at me even as they agreed, and I realized I had not asked anything for myself.  But, with smiles they released me, and bade me welcome to the Ironford Questing Party.

And so One-eye and I walked back up to the surface with the cheers of the prisoners in our ears.  Those that would have died, now had hard labor rebuilding the wall to defend against barbarian attacks, and those with hard labour would be set free on the promise of good behavior.  I prayed for them that they would find a better way in the world that would not bring them back here to these cages.