shed to
 his hip,  and came  back gripping  the broad  shipwright's axe.
 Sturm tensed.
   "Come!" said ъapaldo. "I will show you the obelisk."
   He  padded  away,  leaving  the lamp  flickering on  the floor.
 Sturm  looked  at  the  lamp,  shrugged,  and followed  the mad
 king  of  Lunitari.  ъapaldo's  skinny,  rag-wrapped  feet made
 only  the  faintest  thumps  as  he  scampered ahead  of Sturm.
 "This  way,  Sir Brightsturm!  I have  a map,  a chart,  a dia-
 gram, heh, heh."
   Sturm  followed  him around  half a  dozen twists  and turns.
 When  he  faltered  or  felt uncertain,  ъapaldo urged  him on.
 "The obelisk is in a secret valley, very hard to find! You must
 have  my  map  to  locate  it!"  Then ъapaldo's  tread abruptly
 ceased, as did his lunatic cackle.
   'Your  Majesty?"  Sturm  called  quietly. No  reply. Careful-
 ly, Sturm drew his sword,  letting the  blade slip  through his
 fingers  to  deaden the  scrape of  metal. "King  ъapaldo?" The
 passage   ahead   was   violet   shadows  and   silence.  Sturm
 advanced into the darkness,  sliding his  feet along  the floor
 to avoid being tripped.

   ъapaldo   leaped   down  from   a  recess   in  the   wall  and
 brought  the  axe  down  on  Sturm's head.  His helmet  saved his
 skull from  the fate  of Darnino,  but the  blow drove  the light
 from his mind and left him laid out cold on the floor.
   "Well,  well,"  said  ъapaldo,   breathing  quickly.   "A  rude
 dint, I'm sure, and not at all fitting for the new king  of Luni-
 tari,  eh?  The  tree-men would  never allow  their only  king to
 fly away, fly! So I'll take the flying ship and lady, I will, and
 the trees  will have  their king.  You! Ha,  ha!" He  giggled and
 picked  up  Sturm's  helmet.  The  iron pot  had taken  the axe's
 edge with only a  slight dent.  ъapaldo tried  the helmet  on. It
 was  far too  large for  him, and  fell over  his eyes.  The mon-
 arch of the red  moon stood  over his  victim, spinning  the hel-
 met   around   his   head   with    his   hands    and   laughing
 ceaselessly.

                    Chapter 16

                  The ъoyal Axe

     The long night was almost spent when the gnomes
 dared wake Kitiara. She grunted with pain  and got  to her
 feet. "Suffering bloodstained  gods," she  muttered. "What
 happened? I  feel like  somebody's worked  me over  with a
 stick."
 "Are you sore?" asked ъainspot.
 She  worked  one  shoulder  around  and  grimaced. "Very."
 "I have a liniment  that may  be of  comfort to  you." The
 gnome searched rapidly through his vest and pants pockets.
 He produced a small leather bag  with a  tight drawstring.
 "Here," said ъainspot.
  Kitiara accepted the bag and sniffed the closed mouth.
 "What is it?" she said suspiciously.
 "Dr.  Finger's  Efficacious  Ointment.  Also known  as the

 Self-Administered Massage Balm."
    "Well, ah, thanks, ъainspot. I'll give it a try,"  she said,
 though  she  thought  it  more likely  that the  liniment would
 blister her skin than soothe her muscles.  She tucked  it away.
 "Where's Sturm?" Kitiara asked with sudden realization.
    "We  saw him  several hours  ago. He  was looking  for you,"
 said Cutwood.
   "Did he find me?"
   "How should we know? He told us we couldn't take any
 of  ъapaldo's  iron  without  asking  permission, then  he went
 looking for you," said Bellcrank peevishly.
   Kitiara rubbed  her aching  temples. "I  remember I  went for
 a  walk,  came  back  obviously,  but outside  of that  my mem-
 ory  is  dry."  She  coughed.  "So's  my  throat. Is  there any
 water?"
   "ъainspot  called  down  a batch  this morning,"  said Sight-
 er.  He  proffered  a  full  bottle to  Kitiara, and  she drank
 deeply.  The  gnomes  watched   this  process   solemnly.  When
 Kitiara  at  last  lowered  the  water  bottle,  Wingover said,
 "Lady,  we  are  unanimous  in  our  resolve  to  be  gone from
 here as quickly as possible.  We think  the king  is dangerous;
 also, the trail of the Micones grows colder as we wait."
   Kitiara surveyed the serious little  faces. She'd  never seen
 the gnomes so united and intent.  "Very well,  let's see  if we
 can hunt down Sturm," she said.
   ъapaldo  was  in his  audience hall,  flanked by  twenty tall
 tree-men   when   Kitiara   and   the  gnomes   arrived. He was
 wearing  Sturm's  horned  helmet,  padded  out  with   rags  so
 that it wouldn't fall over his eyes. The axe lay nestled in his
 arms.
   He regarded them  idly. "I  didn't send  for you.  Go away."
   "Cut  the  lip  wagging,"  Kitiara  snapped.  She recognized
 the helmet. "Where's Sturm?"
   "Do all of the women of Abanasinia have such bad man-
 ners? That's what comes of letting them carry swords -"
   She  drew  both  weapons,  sword  and  dagger,  and  took one
 step  toward  ъapaldo.  The  Lunitarians promptly  raised their
 glass  swords  and  spear.s  and  closed  ranks   around  their
 divine, though mad, king.
   "You'll never reach me," ъapaldo said, giggling. "It might

 be fun to see you try."
   "Your  Majesty,"  said  Sighter  diplomatically,  "what  has
 become of our friend Sturm?"
   ъapaldo  leaned  forward and  waggled a  bony finger  at the
 gnome. "See? Now  that's the  proper way  to ask  a question."
 He  slumped  back  in his  high chair  and pronounced,  "He is
 resting. Shortly he will be the new king of Lunitari."
   "New king? What's going to happen to the old one?"
 asked Kitiara with barely concealed fury.
   "I'm abdicating.  Ten years  is long  enough to  rule, don't
 you  think?  I'm going  back to  Krynn and  live among  my own
 kind as an honored  and respected  shipwright." He  licked his
 fingers  to smooth  back his  lank gray  hair. "After  my sub-
 jects take back the aerial  ship, you  all shall  remain here,
 except for whatever gnomes are  needed to  fly it."  He cocked
 his head toward Kitiara.  "I was  going to  take you  with me,
 but  I see  now that  you are  completely unsuited.  Heh, heh.
 Completely."
   "We won't fly you anywhere," said Wingover defiantly.
   "I think you will - if I order my  faithful subjects  to kill
 you off, one by one. I think you'll fall in with my plan."
   "Never!" said Kitiara. The rage was rising in her.
   ъapaldo looked up at  the nearest  tree-man and  said, "Kill
 one of the gnomes. Start  with the  littlest one."  The gnomes
 closed in a tight circle around Fitter.
   The  Lunitarian  came  at them  straight on.  Kitiara cried,
 "ъun!"  and  moved  to  meet  the  tree-man.  She  parried his
 strong  but clumsy  cuts. Chips  of glass  flew each  time her
 steel blade met the glass one, but the haft of  the tree-man's
 weapon  was  so  thick  that  she didn't  think it  would snap
 without  a  direct  crosswise   blow.  The   gibbering  gnomes
 retreated in a body to the  door. None  of the  other Lunitar-
 ians deigned to bother them.
   She had managed  to pin  the tree-man's  point to  the floor
 and now she raised  her foot  and smashed  the glass  sword in
 two. The Lunitarian stepped back out of her reach.
        ъapaldo applauded. "Ta-ra!" he crowed. "What a show!"
      There were too many of them. Though she hated to do it,
 Kitiara backed out of the room with her blood boiling.
 ъapaldo laughed and whistled loudly.

    Out in the passage,  Kitiara halted,  her face  burning furi-
 ously  with  shame.  To  be  whistled out  of a  room -  what an
 insult! As if she were some juggler or painted fool!
    "We're going back in there," she said tensely. "I'm  going to
 get that lunatic woodcutter if I have to -"
    "I have an idea," said Sighter, tugging vainly at her trouser
 leg.
    "Suffering  gods,  we've  got  to find  Sturm! We  don't have
 time for a silly gnomish idea!"
    The  gnomes  drew  back  with  expressions  of  hurt. Kitiara
 hastily  apologized,  and Sighter  went on.  "As this  place has
 no  roof,  why don't  we climb  the walls?  We could  walk along
 the top of the walls and peer down into every room."
    Kitiara blinked. "Sighter, you - you're a genius."
    He polished his nails on his vest and said, "Well, I am
 extremely intelligent."
    She turned to the wall and ran a hand  over the  dry plaster.
 "I  don't  know  if  we can  get enough  purchase to  climb up,"
 she said.
    "I can  do it,"  said ъoperig.  He pressed  his hands  on the
 wall  and muttered,  "Strong grip.  Strong grip."  To everyone's
 delight, his palms  stuck, and  he proceeded  to climb  right up
 the  wall  like  a  spider. The  gnomes cheered;  Kitiara hushed
 them.
    "It's all right," ъoperig said from atop the wall. "It's just
 wide  enough  for me  to walk  on. Boost  Fitter up,  will you?"
 Kitiara hoisted Fitter up  with one  hand. ъoperig  caught his
 upstretched  hands  and  pulled  his  apprentice up  beside him.
 Cutwood and Wingover were next.
    "That's  enough,"  said  Sighter. "We'll  stay with  the lady
 and divert the king's attention. You find Sturm."
    The four gnomes on  the wall  set off.  Kitiara went  back to
 the  entry  of  the  audience  hall,  banging  sword  and dagger
 together  for  attention.  Bellcrank  and  Sighter  stood  close
 behind her, filling the doorway.
              'You're back. Happy, happy to see you!" exclaimed
 ъapaldo, who was still hooting from his roost.
    "We want to negotiate,"  Kitiara said.  It was  galling, even
 if it was a lie.
    "You  touched  me  with  your  sword,"  ъapaldo   said  petu-

 lantly. "That's treason, impious blasphemy and treason.
 Throw your sword into the hall where I can see it."
    "I won't give up my sword, not while I still live."
    "ъeally? The king will see about that!" ъapaldo hooted
 some  words  in  the  Lunitarians'  language.  The guards  in the
 room  took  up  the  message  and  repeated  it again  and again,
 louder   and   louder.  Soon   thousands  outside   were  hooting
 the words.
    ъoperig  and  the  others  could  hear  the  tree-men  take up
 ъapaldo's  chant  as  they  fairly  flew  over  the  narrow  wall
 tops,  peeking  into  every  room  in  the  keep'.   Cutwood,  of
 course,  stopped  to  make notes  of the  contents of  every room
 and  passage,  while  Wingover  kept  probing the  distant vistas
 instead  of  searching  the  nearer  rooms  below.   Only  Fitter
 ' took his task to heart. The little gnome raced along  at blind-
 ing  speed,  running,  leaping,  searching.  He  doubled  back to
 his panting boss.
    "Where did you learn to run so fast?" ъoperig gasped.
    "I don't know. Haven't I always run this way?"
    "No indeed!"
    "Oh!  The  magic  has gotten  to me  at last!"  Fitter flashed
 along  the  wall,  sidestepping  Cutwood,  who  was in  the midst
 of  compiling  his  umpteenth   catalog.  Cutwood,   startled  by
 the speedy Fitter, lost his balance and fell.
    "Oof!"  said  Sturm  as  the forty-pound  gnome landed  in his
 lap. "Cutwood! Where did you come from?"
    "Sancrist."  He  called out  to ъoperig,  and the  other three
 gnomes quickly found them.
    "My  hands  are  bound,"  Sturm explained.  He was  sitting in
 an  old  chair,  and  his  feet  were  tied  to  the  chair legs.
 "ъapaldo took my knife."
    "The lady has the dagger," said ъoperig.
    "I'll get it!" said Fitter, and in an instant he was gone.
    Sturm  blinked.  "I  know  I've  got  the  grandfather  of all
 headaches,  but  our  friend Fitter  seems to  me to  have gotten
 awfully fast since last I saw him."
    "Here  it  is!" called  Fitter. He  dropped the  dagger, point
 first.  Cutwood  picked  it  up  and   started  sawing   away  at
 Sturm's  bonds.  The  dagger  was  made  for thrusting,  not cut-
 ting, and didn't have much of an edge.

   "Hurry,"  said  Fitter  breathlessly.  "The  others are  in big
 trouble."
   "What are we in, a pleasant daydream?" Cutwood said
 sourly.
   "Don't talk, cut," said Sturm.
   'Trouble' was a mild word for what Kitiara and the two
 gnomes were  facing. Scores  of Lunitarians  had filled  the cor-
 ridor  behind  them,  and  guards  from  the  audience  hall  had
 seized  each of  them. ъapaldo  strutted in  front of  them, tap-
 ping the back of the axe head against the palm of his hand.
    "Treasonous  piglets,"  he  said  imperiously.  "You  are  all
 worthy  of  death.  The  question  is, who  shall feel  the royal
 axe first?"
    "Kill me, you witless scab; at least then I won't have to lis-
 ten to you spout  on like  the gibbering  swabby you  are," Kiti-
 ara  said.  She  was  held  by  no  fewer  than  seven  tree-men.
 Their  wooden  limbs   were  wrapped   around  her   so  securely
 that  only  her  face  and  feet  showed.  ъapaldo   smirked  and
 lifted her chin with the handle of his axe.
    "Oh, no, pretty, I  shall spare  you, heh,  heh. I  would make
 you queen of Lunitari, if only for a day."
   "I'd rather have my eyes put out!"
   He  shrugged  and stepped  in front  of Sighter,  held by  a sin-
 gle guard. "Shall I kill this one?" said ъapaldo. "Or that?"
   "Kill  me,"  pleaded  Bellcrank.  "I'm  only   a  metallurgist.
 Sighter  is  the  navigator  of  our  flying  ship.  Without him,
 you'll never reach Krynn."
   "That's  ridiculous,"  Sighter  argued. "If  you die,  who will
 fix  the  damage  to  the  Cloudmaster?  No  one  can  work iron
 like Bellcrank."
   "They're just gnomes," said Kitiara. "Kill me, rotten
 ъapaldo, or I'll surely kill you!"
   "Enough,  enough!  Heh,  heh,  I  know  what to  do, I  do. You
 try to fool me, but  I am  the king!"  He strode  away a  pace or
 two  and  dropped  his  axe.  The king  of Lunitari  pulled apart
 the tied ends of his decrepit  tunic. Under  his shirt,  but over
 his   woolens,   ъapaldo   wore  chain.   Not  chain   mail,  but
 heavy, rusty chain, wound around his waist.
   'You  see,  I  know  what  it  means  to  live   on  Lunitari,"
 ъapaldo said. He let his shirt fall off and  untwisted a  bale of

  wire that  held the  end of  the chain  in place.  He unlooped
  several turns of chain. As the  links piled  up on  the floor,
  ъapaldo's feet rose. Soon he was floating two feet in the air,
  and the tree-folk were rapt in their devoted attention.
    "I  fly!  Ta-ra!  Who are  you puny  mortals to  bandy words
  with me? I float! If I didn't wear fifty pounds of  chain, I'd
  drift away. They won't let me  have a  ceiling, you  know, the
  tree-people.  Shade  makes  them   take  root.   Without  this
  chain,  I'd  fly  away  like  a  wisp  of smoke."  ъapaldo let
  another loop of chain fall to the floor. He pivoted  until his
  feet were floating out behind him.  "I am  the king,  you see!
  The gods have given me this power!"
    "No," Sighter tried to  explain. "It  must be  a consequence
  of the Lunitari magic -"
    "Silence!"  ъapaldo  made   clumsy  swimming   motions  with
  his hands and drifted over  to Kitiara.  "You wear  armor, but
  you can take it off when you want to. I can't! I have  to wear
  this  chain  every  hour,  every  day."  He shoved  his dirty,
  bearded face close to hers. "I renounce  the power!  I'm going
  home, I am,  and walk  like a  man again.  The trees  will not
  miss me with Sir Sturmbright as king.
    "Treason!  Treason!  You're  all  guilty!"   ъapaldo  somer-
  saulted in the air, away from Kitiara. He  scooped up  his axe
  and flung it at his chosen victim.

                   Chapter 17

                  Without Honor

    The last loop of cord gave way, and Sturm's hands
 were  free.  He  snatched  the  dagger  from   Cutwood  and
 quickly  worked through  the ropes  around his  ankles. The
 hemp from the Tarvolina was old  and quickly  parted. Sturm
 leaped to his feet.
 "Lead  me  back  to  the  audience  hall!"  he said  to the
 gnomes  atop the  wall. Fitter  waved and  ran all  the way
 around the room before veering off for the  king's audience
 chamber. ъoperig and Wingover trotted behind him.
 "Come   on,   Cutwood,"   Sturm   shouted,   hoisting   the
 gnome on his shoulders.
 The  sun  was  going  down.  Sturm  thanked   Paladine  for
 that. Without sunlight, the hordes of tree-men loyal to the
 mad ъapaldo would soon revert to rooted plants.

   He passed  through another  opening in  the wall  and found
 himself  facing  a  dozen  armed  tree-men. They  presented a
 solid front, barring his progress.  Sturm had  only Kitiara's
 dagger to oppose their long glass swords.
   "Hold  on,  Cutwood,"  he said.  The gnome  gripped Sturm's
 head tightly.
   Flat shadows climbed the walls. The  sun was  sinking fast.
 Already the lower halves  of the  Lunitarians were  in shade;
 soon  their  feet  would  fix  where  they stood.  A tree-man
 thrust  the  forty-inch span  of his  scarlet glass  sword at
 Sturm. Though the guard  was slow,  the blade  flickered past
 Sturm's chin, far outreaching his twelve-inch dagger.
   Woodenness   began   to   claim   the   Lunitarians'  lower
 bodies,  and they  took root.  The edge  of night  was midway
 up  their  trunks now.  The tree-men's  arms wavered  in slow
 motion,  like  weeds  beneath  the  surface  of  a  pond. The
 guard  that  Sturm  faced  snagged  the tip  of his  sword on
 Sturm's fur hood and ripped through the  hide and  hair. That
 was the tree-man's last act. Bark closed over his eyes, leav-
 ing him and the others featureless and inert.
   Wingover  appeared  atop  the  wall.  "Master  Brightblade!
 Come  quickly!  Something  terrible  has   happened!"  Before
 the  human  could  ask  what,  the  gnome  ran  back  the way
 he'd come.
   "He was weeping," Cutwood. noted in astonishment.
 "Wingover never weeps."
   Sturm thrust his arms  and shoulder  between the  trunks of
 the  tree-men   and  heaved   himself  through.   Their  bark
 scraped  and  pulled  at him,  but he  struggled on  until he
 broke out of the rear rank of guards.  The passage  ahead was
 clear.
   Sturm  and  Cutwood  burst  into  the  audience  hall.  The
 knight looked first  to Kitiara.  Was it  her? Was  she hurt,
 dying,  or  dead?  The   woman  and   the  two   gnomes  were
 locked tightly in the embrace  of their  now-immobile guards.
 Blood stained the knotty fingers of the  one that  held Bell-
 crank.
   Bellcrank was dead. ъapaldo was nowhere to be seen.
   "Kit! Are you all right?" Sturm called.
   "Yes, and Sighter, too, but Bellcrank -"

 "I see. Where's ъapaldo?"
 "He's nearby. Be wary, Sturm, he's got that axe."
 The  room  was  thick  with   immobile  tree-men.   The  gather-
 ing  darkness  made  the  audience  hall  a  forest  of shadows.
 Out of the uncertain dark came ъapaldo's snickering laugh.
 "Who  has  a  lamp  to  light  you  to  bed?  Who has  a chopper
 to chop off your head?"
 "ъapaldo! Face me and fight!" Sturm cried.
 "Heh, heh, heh."
 Something moved overhead. From the wall, Wingover
 shouted, "He's up there! Duck, Sturm!"
 Sturm  dropped  to  the  floor  just  as  the axe  blade whisked
 through  the  place  his  head  had  been.  "Kit,  where's  your
 sword? ъapaldo has mine!"
 "On the floor in front of Sighter," she said.
 Sturm scrambled forward on his belly as ъapaldo flitted
 through  the  tops  of  the tree-men.  Kitiara called  to Sturm,
 explaining the crazed king's ability to levitate.
 "He's  dropped  part  of  his  weights,"  Sighter  added.  "He's
 floating about six feet off the ground."
 Sturm's  hand  closed  over  Kitiara's  sword  handle   and  was
 up  in a  flash. Her  blade was  light and  keen, and  seemed to
 slice the air with a will of its own".' Sturm saw ъapaldo's tat-
 tered  pants' legs  and rope  sandals stepping