Downie’s Eleven
“I shall go over the plan one more time,” said Downie, pointing at a blackboard diagram with his bow. “At precisely 1200 hours, Fleabo will slip away from his kitchen duties and into the ventilation tunnel in this corridor here.” He tapped the board. “At the same time, Norrin, Dorrin, Colin, Sleazy, Dumpy, Tubby and Doc will start a fight in the inn across from the Tower. The objective is to cause maximum noise and disruption, and to draw away as many guards as possible.”
“Simultaneously,” said the lady, “I will engage Ray in conversation...” It was largely her plan, and she wished he’d let her explain it. But Downie, whose only contribution was in sharing his knowledge of magical traps, pressed on.
“At 1215 hours, Fleabo will descend from the ceiling into the Chamber of Forbidden Magicks. The floor is protected by traps, but according to our calculations, the duct emerges directly above the Dispel Banshee scroll. The spell is shielded by a crystal dome. Our information suggests that the only way to open one of these domes is to have Ray say ‘open’ in their presence. With the aid of a Pendant of Ventriloquism, we can make that work even if Ray isn’t actually in the room; it’s just a question of us getting him to say it. All being well, at 1220 hours, Fleabo will place his palm on the rune and read the words on the parchment. At this point, I will be able to pick up The Ring from its pedestal without the banshee being summoned. I will switch it for this fake ring that I have here, which appears identical in every respect up until the point at which you try to use its powers.”
“Cursed rings with a terrible weight to them are two a penny from any good alchemist,” added the lady.
“Those in the Tower should then leave by the same route they used to enter. By 1230 hours, I will be outside. The dwarves should keep causing trouble for as long as possible, to help cover our escape. If any of you wants to go on a ring-destroying quest, we can discuss it when we meet back here afterwards. Any questions?”
“We’re not being paid very much!” said Dorrin.
“Your job is to get drunk and break stuff. Admit it, you’d do it for free.”
“Grr... Curse your elvish wisdom.”
“Now, synchronise your wrist-sundials. Let’s roll.”
“I have a question,” said the lady, quietly. “What happens after you get the ring? If it can corrupt Ray, won’t it eventually corrupt you?”
“It may. So what? If it has to corrupt someone, it may as well corrupt someone like me who enjoys being corrupted.”
“You don’t quite fill me with confidence.”
“When... I mean, if it all goes wrong, meet me in the forest to the east.” whispered Downie, as they parted.
Downie stood alone before the plinth of the One Ring, the Ring of Power, the Ring to Rule Them All. The pedestal itself was magical, perhaps from absorbing Ring magic. Its form changed from day to day. At the moment, it was in the shape of a leaping salmon, the ring balanced upon its nose.
He glanced at his wrist-dial, but as he was indoors it was impossible to say exactly what time it was. He began counting downwards in his head. Much to his concern, another figure entered the room, compulsively fingering a sapphire. It was that wizard, the one who signed himself ‘vincible’ with a small ‘v’. Downie didn’t trust him. Anyone still holding such high rank in the Fellowship must have bent in the wind and come round to Ray’s current way of thinking. That was why Downie had held his tongue about the plan in the presence of the rest of the Fellowship; too many spies, too much risk.
Vincible stepped into the chamber, his mind still full of questions. Was Ray being corrupted by The Ring? Or was The Ring being corrupted by Ray? Or both? Or neither? Was Ray still following his original purposes? Perhaps there was yet some virtuous explanation for Ray’s change of character. Some self-purification ritual, whereby one expunged the darkness from one’s soul by giving the evil side free reign until the lust for power and cruelty was spent? The idea had a certain appeal. But if that were the case, why keep it a secret? Was there any purpose to these questions? Or would they just lead him in circles? And just what was Ray’s purpose in bringing together the Fellowship...?
He found himself staring at The Ring once again, and became aware of a silent presence.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said. It was that elf bard, Matthew or something. By all accounts a fool and a weakling who couldn’t even stomach beer. Still, he probably meant well enough. “Play me a song to soothe my troubled spirits, bard, and you shall have a silver shilling!”
“Certainly, your wizardship! Upon a time, I met a maid. Her eyes were green, her skin was pink...”
The Halfling Fleabo lowered himself into the Chamber of Forbidden Magicks from twin ropes. He wished he could do this mission in silence, but the lady’s pendant was broadcasting everything Ray said into the echoing hall. The room seemed crowded, though not with people. Once, it was reserved for demonic rites and spells that required human sacrifice. Now, any spell that Ray deemed a ‘distraction’ was stacked up within these walls. He could see the dome enclosing the relevant scroll, but it was closed.
“Well, well,” said Ray. “If it isn’t my favourite spy. How goes your quest to expose sedition and treachery, milady?”
The lady smiled warmly. “In a village to the south, I found a demagogue, stirring up the rabble against your rule.”
“And did you notify the Nighthawks?”
“There was no need. An elf bard named Downie turned him into a tree.”
“Funny. I met an elf not long ago who knew much of the ancient elven lore. But he was a poet, not a bard, and his name wasn’t ‘Downie’, it was Downie.”
“Perhaps it was a pseudonym.”
“No doubt. What did you do with the tree?”
“Nothing, Lord Ray.”
“Hmph. You weren’t to know, but such spells are reversible. To be on the safe side, I’ll have him made into furniture. And what of the crowd who listened to his speech?”
“They went home as soon as the show ended.”
“They may have been tainted by hearing the demagogue’s lies. I’ll have them horse-whipped, just to be on the safe side.”
“How... how will that help?”
“Hmm? It will increase their fear of me. Isn’t that enough? Now, what other subversives did you find?”
“None. No-one else dared speak out.”
“I am disappointed in you, my dear. The purpose of your mission wasn’t simply to find those guilty of improper thoughts. Next time, find someone rich, capture him, and torment him until he confesses. Then strip him of his property as a punishment, and bring it to me. I’ll let you keep ten percent of whatever you take.”
“What do you do with all your money? I would have thought an arch-mage would be able to conjure up anything he wished.”
“I cannot waste my power upon such trifles! My magic energies must be held in reserve for my explorations of the Ultimate Spell.”
“Is that why you’ve been acting this way? I don’t understand you. You’re like a closed book.”
“And you expect me to open up to you? I think you should remember your place...”
As Ray spoke those words, the dome flipped open. Fleabo reached within. Suddenly, a banshee exploded from nowhere and let loose a deafening howl. Fleabo struggled with the ropes, but they were tangled...
He glanced around, but there was no escape.
Downie was now well into the twelfth verse, and Vincible was desperate for an excuse to leave.
“...and because I did hesitate, and tarried when I heard her scream, when I arrived I was too late, she lay there drowned within the stream...”
Suddenly, a terrible spectral wail drowned out the singing. Vincible was hugely relieved, and rushed off to investigate.
“Hey, what about my shilling?” called Downie.
Vincible found that Ray and a lady he didn’t recognise had beaten him to the chamber. Within the room, a banshee crouched, screeching her heart out. “My Lord? Did you set the alarm off accidentally?” he said.
“What did you say?” said Ray.
“What did you say?” shouted Vincible.
“I said, what did you say?” shouted Ray.
“So did I!” shouted Vincible.
Ray sighed, and walked over to the scroll, and read the words inaudibly. The banshee dissolved into powder. He looked up suspiciously at the ventilation duct.
As soon as the screams died down, Downie picked up the ring. It seemed terrible and ancient and powerful, and weighed him down as though it were a great rock. But then, so did the identical looking cursed ring he had brought in with him. He laid it on the pedestal, and walked out in a casual manner. No guards searched him; they were all too busy dealing with some fight across the street.
As more Fellowship members arrived, Ray launched a bolt of energy at the ceiling. A hobbit dropped down through the gap.
“Who dares to steal from me!” he cried.
The hobbit curled up in terror.
“If I may, my liege,” said Hawaii Five-o, “that is my idiot cousin Fleabo, a would be burglar. He said he would prove himself to you by stealing something from The Tower. I told him not to be so foolish, but...”
“I see. Well, thief, you should have realised that I would not leave such an important item lying about without a little extra protection. That Ring is protected by a banshee, which that scroll alone could dissipate. But the scroll itself was protected by the very same banshee, rendering it and The Ring unstealable!”
“Please, spare his life!” begged Five-o
“Hmm... Well, Fleabo, if you are a thief, then you can serve me. I sentence you to fetch me a new present, every day, for the rest of your life. Any day you will do not bring me something that I find pleasing, you will have a small part of you cut off. This will continue until I own everything in the world, or until there is nothing left of you, whichever comes first.”
Thing seemed to have settled down. The company began to depart.
As the lady was leaving, she felt a bony but terribly strong hand close around her wrist. “That does leave the question of how he was able to get into the crystal dome.”
“It does indeed, Lord Ray,” she said.
He plucked the pendant from her neck. “Where did you get this?”
“It... It was given to me by some paid lackey as I was about to enter The Tower. He said it was a gift for me from a secret admirer.”
“I... see. It was from the thief. You were imprudent to accept it. I am disappointed in you. I shall have to think of some way you cam make it up to me.”
Later, in the secret meeting barn, ten people met to discuss what had happened. Downie was not among them.
“Stupid elf!” said Fleabo. “He said he knew all the traps guarding the scroll and The Ring.”
“He put me in a very awkward position,” said the lady.
“Wish I’d got never involved,” muttered Five-o, who’d supplied the pendant and substitute ring. “I only said yes to get him to stop singing his Song of Persuasion at me.”
“We all got banned from our favourite tavern!” complained one of the dwarves.
“Anyone would think this was his plan all along,” said Fleabo, consoling the dwarf, and lifting a bag of coins from his belt.
The lady thought about this, and made her excuses.
She found him in the forest.
“This was your plan?” she said. “Endangering all our lives?”
“It was the only way,” said Downie, leading her further east. “I had to get Ray to dispel the banshee himself.”
“So you neglected to mention that you knew that Fleabo would fail? Ray might have killed him! What happened to your moral code?”
“I myself am a pacifist, but I can’t be held responsible for what other people do to one another.”
A shadow seemed to pass over them.
“But you didn’t even tell him!” she said.
The shadow grew deeper.
“If I had, he wouldn’t have...”
They both looked up. A great golden hoop was descending upon them. As it landed, they were just able to save themselves from a crushing by standing in the hole in the middle.
A door hissed open.
“Marvellous what they can do nowadays,” mused Ray. “Ah, Downie.”
“Yes?”
“I am eternally grateful to you for your music. It has given me a new appreciation for silence. However, I believe you have something of mine. It’s small, circular, and has a hole in it. Does that Ring any bells?”
“I’ll check. Let’s see, what have I got in my pockets?”
“You might be thinking of putting it on. I should warn you, it’s set to ‘invisibility’ at the moment, and in the time it took you to find the ‘destroy enemies’ function, I would have unleashed a wave of fire upon you too big to dodge.”
“Ah... Lord Ray?”
“Yes, milady?”
“I was about to capture this traitor when you arrived, and...”
“Let’s not worry about explanations now. I’m sure the full truth will come out in your interrogation. My people are very thorough.”
“I don’t suppose,” said Downie, “that you’d like to hear a song about a pirate?”
“If you sing a single word, I’ll turn you to grease.”
“Fine. Fine. Here is The Ring.”
Ray looked longingly upon The Ring. Then his expression seemed to change. “Go,” he said.
“What?”
“Go quickly, the pair of you, before I change my mind. Remember, it can only be destroyed in the place it was forged. I’m afraid we’ve lost the receipt, so a refund is out of the question.”
“Thank you! Oh, thank you!” said Downie.
“Good luck,” said Ray. “You’ll need it.”
He stepped back into the ship. It lifted off, into the heavens. The shadow lifted. A ray of sunlight penetrated the trees, and lit their way ahead.
“Well, this is nice,” said Downie.
“Yes, back on the road again. You know, I haven’t heard much poetry from you lately.”
“You know what they say. Too much of a good thing. But here’s one I wrote a while ago:”
The road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began
Now far ahead the Road has gone
And I must follow, if I can...
“You never wrote that!” she said.
“I did. Then some low-life varlet stole it off me, and took the credit for himself.”
“Lord Ray!” said Theoden, who was in the co-pilot’s seat. “I’m proud of you. You overcame your base instincts!”
“Hmm?”
“That is... I...”
“You don’t think that was the real Ring, do you? I spied treachery in my palantir, and switched it for a duplicate. I put the real one in... a safe place.”
“Then why...?”
“It appeals to my sense of humour to have them trudge all the way across the darkest regions of Middle-Earth to destroy an ordinary, cheap cursed ring. They’re two a penny from any good alchemist, you know. If he ever comes back... Well, we’ll deal with that when the time comes. Oh, and send out a few of the Nighthawks. I don’t want him to have too easy a time of it.”
“Yes, Lord Ray,” said Theoden, despairingly.
~SDC~
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