"Never. Do. That. Again." Devrim felt the urge to punch Gandr but refrained. The Emperor had experienced the sensation of falling through space and time before his backside landed on the dirt floor. Fortunately the room on the other side of the wall where the Emperor landed was empty. Devrim had waited patiently for the halfling to join him, but the anger had not subsided when Gandr finally appeared.

The halfling was unapologetic as he shrugged. "I had to think quickly. I gambled that the others would not try to sense through the wall to look for you. Anyway, you are the one who wanted to come with me," Gandr reminded him. "This part of the journey will not be easy or fun."

Devrim's face softened, and his muscles relaxed. "You are right, of course. I am at your mercy. Lead on."

Gandr smiled, and his eyes narrowed to a mischievous glint. "Just remember you said that. For the next little bit, I am in charge."

A small shiver ran down Devrim's spine, but he nodded. If the man was going to trust the halfling, he needed to do it fully. As they prepared to leave, someone was talking loudly outside the door. The two males exchanged a worried glance. "Maybe they will pass on," Devrim whispered.

But the door the to room clattered, and Gandr had to improvise. "I am sorry," he said, the halfling's instinct taking over.

"What—" Devrim was pulled into the floor and disappeared.

Backing up over the spot where Devrim had vanished, Gandr stood there with his fists balled, ready to take on any adversary. He almost forgot that he was wearing the face of—

"Grisley!" King Baak exclaimed as a servant opened the door. "I did not think you would show up. And you are on time and in the correct place. How very out of character for you…"

Behind the king, Cafer and Alaron filed into the room. They placed themselves in three chairs and motioned for Gandr to sit across from them. Unsure what to do, the halfling paused. He peeked at the ground and saw a tiny hole forming beneath his feet. Air! Gandr forgot to leave the Emperor air to breathe when he encased him. As Devrim pushed his mouth to the hole he had dug, Gandr cleared his throat to cover the gasp. "Let's get this over with," he growled as he took the final seat.

Gandr was correct; his impression of the other gnome was quite good, and the other three did not seem to suspect him.

"You know why we are here," Baak said. He sat in the middle of the three chairs that faced Gandr. The king's arms were crossed but he did not seem particularly angry.

"Remind me," Gandr said in his most surly voice. He had no idea what they were talking about, but the prince seemed particularly peeved.

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"We are here because you injured the Prince of Valiant," Baak said as he rubbed his temples.

Gandr went slack-jawed for a moment before recovering. "So? Is that a crime?!" he sneered as he held up his fist at Alaron. The boy flinched.

"It is not a crime, and yet His Highness has asked for satisfaction, and I am willing to oblige." Baak responded it an air of superiority.

"Stop it with your big words," Gandr jeered. He was enjoying being Grisley a little too much. In fact the halfling was having so much fun mouthing-off to the king that he almost forgot that he was going to be punished for something that someone else did.

King Baak's eyes narrowed. He was not amused. "I will speak slowly. You can spend a day in the stocks…"

'Does he mean that wooden contraption they put slaves in to punish them?' Gandr wondered. "But!" he objected.

"I can make it two days!" Baak boomed. The king was becoming increasingly annoyed.

"This is outrageous!" Alaron was the source of the outburst this time. "He injured the future Emperor of Valiant and you want to provide some public humiliation? My back will be scarred because of him!"

"Take it or leave it, young prince. I am only doing this at all because of my regard for you." Baak cut his eyes to one side and then the other. Alaron was gripping the chair with white knuckles, but Cafer was completely relaxed.

"The king is making a large exception for you. No other gnomes will dare to bother you once they know the penalty for such an action." Cafer's smooth talk seemed to sooth the angered prince.

Alaron breathed deeply through his nostrils and gave a princely nod. "Very well."

"Don't I get some say in this?" Gandr cried, his voice sounding more like his own and less like Grisley. What would happen when the real Grisley turned up?

"No, you do not," Baak snapped. "Guards! Take Grisley to the stocks!"

"Surely there is some other way!" Gandr pleaded as he was apprehended by two guards and dragged from the room. To his dismay, Gandr was transported to the underground market where most gnomic business was conducted. In the middle of the shops, a wooden platform held a hideous wooden box with holes for feet, hands and head.

Fighting tooth and nail, the halfling was forced into the box and locked in place. Because he was encased in wood, he could not use his earth magic and because his hands were bound within the holes, he could not use his wind magic. He was well and truly stuck.

Within a couple of minutes, a crowd formed around him. At first it was annoying, but as more and more joined the pack with devilish grins, Gandr had a sinking feeling. He gulped.

"What are you all gawking for?" He yelled in his best Grisley voice.

"We having been waiting to do this for years," one of the mob responded. They each produced a vegetable or piece of rotten food from behind their backs.

Gandr hung his head. He really could not blame them. A tomato crashed across his skull and lodged its seedy pulp in his left ear. Other projectiles followed the first until he was more covered in food than the table at the Harvest Day Feast. 'Worst. Day. Ever.'

—————-

As soon as Gandr was dragged from the room followed by the others, Dervim burst forth from the ground. He gasped as he sucked in lungfuls of air while he lay on the floor. Gandr had dug a shallow grave for the Emperor, and were it not for the hole that Devrim managed to clear, the man would have suffocated.

"At least he was kind enough to release me," Devrim muttered when he finally regained the use of his voice.

The door handle clattered again, and with a surge of adrenaline, Devrim was at the entrance with sword drawn.

A gravely voice invaded the room. "I am here, Your Majesty. This better not take too…Who are you?"

The Emperor halted his downward thrust when he saw Grisley's face looking back at him.

"Gandr?" Devrim asked tentatively.

"Gandr?!" Grisley repeated, equally confused.

"Uh oh," the Emperor realized his mistake. This was not his friend, but the ugly gnome that Gandr was pretending to be. Devrim lifted the pommel of his sword and hit Grisley across the skull before the latter could summon help. With more than a little effort, the grey-eyed man tied the gnome up with rope from his supplies and dragged him to the most remote corner of the room. For good measure, he stuffed the gnome's hat in his mouth. "That takes care of one problem."

Now the Emperor needed to decide how to proceed. He wanted to free Gandr, but now that the real Grisley was hidden away, hopefully the halfling would be safe. And he still had the problem of how to get to the prince. "One problem at a time," he repeated his wife's mantra, "but which problem first?"

He left the room to slink along the walls, hoping that the answer would reveal itself quickly.