Read Online Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 3 - Death in Delhi by Gary Gygax - Free Book Online
Authors: Gary Gygax
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he stopped. "There is a good place for you to cook us our lunch, Manasay. You will need to search for some wood to make the fire, so hurry up. If I am still conversing with the other good folk here when it is ready, simply bring my bowl to where I am."
Rachelle nodded and seemed to work dutifully as he commanded, but Inhetep caught the look she shot him before she bent over her bag to extract her utensils and ready the rest. Smiling with more than artificial joviality, he walked to where five persons were circled around eating. "I beg your pardon, good travelers. My name is Chandgar. My wife and I have come from far away on a pilgrimage. She is barren, but we seek the blessings of the goddesses to change that. Are you by chance journeying to the Five Sacred Rivers?"
"All the way to the Punjab? No, friend Chandgar, not us. I am merely a merchant, a buyer of trees for fine lumber. I guess you are likewise of the Vaisyas, no?" Inhetep nodded, saying he was a minor dealer in medicines and amulets. The man nodded, having no particular interest in that line, but friendly still. He introduced his son, his son's two wives, and then his manservant. "We go but a few leagues, you see, to set up an office in Igatpur. Come, though, get your spouse and join us now. My son's wives love to gossip."
"I regret to say that my dear wife, Manasay, has taken a vow of silence until her loins produce a son. She is no company whatsoever, poor thing. I, however, am most anxious to have conversation. Did you know that I have always loved fine wood?"
Eventually Rachelle brought his bowl of onions and lentils to where the magister sat listening in what seemed rapt attention to the lumber buyer and his son as the two told stories about buying trees, the rowdy crews hired for the felling and transportation of them, elephants at work, dishonest sawmill owners, and still more. "Ah, yes. High time, for I am famished." He patted the ground, motioning to her. "Do not be shy, Manasay, come sit here with my new friends. I am learning much." Although Rachelle couldn't understand a word he spoke, his gestures were plain. She brought her own serving of food and sat next to him.
The younger wood merchant's wives looked at Rachelle-Manasay, found her altogether too beautiful, and shot surreptitious glares at her. Rachelle ignored them, trying to make sense of the strange-sounding conversation of the men. IH have to learn Hindi, she vowed to herself. I just know he's saying absolutely horrific things about me, she thought as the two natives laughed heartily in response to something Setne had told them. Even gossiping with those cows would be better than sitting here like a lump! Sit in silence she did for a full two hours, though, unable to guess the meaning of more than a few of the constantly repeated words. Then the magister stood up, pulled her to her feet, and pointed. She stalked to the place their things were, gathered her bundle, and waited.
"We go with this company to a town up in the hills. Tonight we camp outdoors, I am told. Tomorrow by sundown we should be in
Igatpur," he said softly, speaking in ./Egyptian. "You're doing fine. Keep up the good work. When we arrive in town, well be on our own again. Then I can use a portal to jump us ahead."
Rachelle snapped, "Fine. Fine for you! Are you having fun playing the big man?" Then she lost her irritation. "Sorry, Chandgar, it is just tiresome not to be able to understand anything, let alone having to remain silent."
"Oh. Of course. I can fix that, although youH still not be able to speak." Without haste, the wizard-priest pulled out several little folded bits of colored cloth, each of a varying hue. He handed her one of brown. "When nobody is looking, unwrap that. It's a talisman which will make the Hindic words sound like ./Egyptian to your ears. I meant to give it to you yesterday, but I forgot in all the confusion."
With great pride in herself for exercising restraint, Rachelle merely smiled and
Rachelle nodded and seemed to work dutifully as he commanded, but Inhetep caught the look she shot him before she bent over her bag to extract her utensils and ready the rest. Smiling with more than artificial joviality, he walked to where five persons were circled around eating. "I beg your pardon, good travelers. My name is Chandgar. My wife and I have come from far away on a pilgrimage. She is barren, but we seek the blessings of the goddesses to change that. Are you by chance journeying to the Five Sacred Rivers?"
"All the way to the Punjab? No, friend Chandgar, not us. I am merely a merchant, a buyer of trees for fine lumber. I guess you are likewise of the Vaisyas, no?" Inhetep nodded, saying he was a minor dealer in medicines and amulets. The man nodded, having no particular interest in that line, but friendly still. He introduced his son, his son's two wives, and then his manservant. "We go but a few leagues, you see, to set up an office in Igatpur. Come, though, get your spouse and join us now. My son's wives love to gossip."
"I regret to say that my dear wife, Manasay, has taken a vow of silence until her loins produce a son. She is no company whatsoever, poor thing. I, however, am most anxious to have conversation. Did you know that I have always loved fine wood?"
Eventually Rachelle brought his bowl of onions and lentils to where the magister sat listening in what seemed rapt attention to the lumber buyer and his son as the two told stories about buying trees, the rowdy crews hired for the felling and transportation of them, elephants at work, dishonest sawmill owners, and still more. "Ah, yes. High time, for I am famished." He patted the ground, motioning to her. "Do not be shy, Manasay, come sit here with my new friends. I am learning much." Although Rachelle couldn't understand a word he spoke, his gestures were plain. She brought her own serving of food and sat next to him.
The younger wood merchant's wives looked at Rachelle-Manasay, found her altogether too beautiful, and shot surreptitious glares at her. Rachelle ignored them, trying to make sense of the strange-sounding conversation of the men. IH have to learn Hindi, she vowed to herself. I just know he's saying absolutely horrific things about me, she thought as the two natives laughed heartily in response to something Setne had told them. Even gossiping with those cows would be better than sitting here like a lump! Sit in silence she did for a full two hours, though, unable to guess the meaning of more than a few of the constantly repeated words. Then the magister stood up, pulled her to her feet, and pointed. She stalked to the place their things were, gathered her bundle, and waited.
"We go with this company to a town up in the hills. Tonight we camp outdoors, I am told. Tomorrow by sundown we should be in
Igatpur," he said softly, speaking in ./Egyptian. "You're doing fine. Keep up the good work. When we arrive in town, well be on our own again. Then I can use a portal to jump us ahead."
Rachelle snapped, "Fine. Fine for you! Are you having fun playing the big man?" Then she lost her irritation. "Sorry, Chandgar, it is just tiresome not to be able to understand anything, let alone having to remain silent."
"Oh. Of course. I can fix that, although youH still not be able to speak." Without haste, the wizard-priest pulled out several little folded bits of colored cloth, each of a varying hue. He handed her one of brown. "When nobody is looking, unwrap that. It's a talisman which will make the Hindic words sound like ./Egyptian to your ears. I meant to give it to you yesterday, but I forgot in all the confusion."
With great pride in herself for exercising restraint, Rachelle merely smiled and