Diane stood wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open. She had been introduced to not one, but two, unusual characters upon their arrival in Braemar. She had met her first gnome, Gerbil Hamsmacker, as expected, and the three-foot-tall, pot-bellied creature was pretty much what Diane had envisioned, even down to his ample beard, orange turning to gray, and sparkling blue eyes. He talked the way Diane thought a gnomish inventor should talk, with long, profound pauses, followed by bursts of rapid sentences all run together, where listeners would then have to sit back for a while and sort them all out. Gerbil was obviously thrilled to see Gary and company, and talked wildly about the shot at Buck-toothed Ogre Pass, the gnome-built cannonball that had toppled mighty Robert and had ensured Gerbil a place of the highest respect - post-mortem, of course - among his colleagues.

Soon after meeting up with his friends, Gerbil called another friend out to meet the companions, one they hadn't expected to see out of his home in Dvergamal, and it was the sight of gigantic Tommy One-Thumb that had so unnerved Diane. His face was childish, dimpled cheeks and a continual smile, and it seemed to fit the kindhearted giant's demeanor despite the fact that Tommy was nearly twenty feet tall, with a foot that could crush a full-grown man flat and hands that could wrap about a human skull as though it was a baseball. It didn't take long for Tommy to come to like Diane, and vice versa.

But there was little time for pleasantries in Braemar. The town was prepared for war, with most of the fanners from the surrounding fields, a host of dwarfs, and even a contingent of gnomes from faraway Gondabuggan, on hand. More tents were in and about the town than buildings, and the tips of old swords and makeshift spears, pitchforks and huge bardiche axes dominated the scenery in every direction, farmers-turned-soldiers marching in ragged formation.

The friends were well known in Braemar - and so was Prince Geldion. Every smile that turned Gary's way or Kelsey's way inevitably bent down into a profound frown at the sight of the Prince, the man who, in the eyes of Braemar's populace, had accounted for more than a few widows and orphans. He wasn't set upon, no one even challenged the fact that Geldion openly wore that infamous dirk of his, but that was only because of the respect the Prince's companions had rightfully earned.

Kelsey realized how uncomfortable the situation was, though, and he quickly arranged for a meeting between himself, Geldion, and Lord Badenoch, who ruled Braemar and was among the most respected men in all the eastern region.

The others were invited along as well, but Gary, seeing the necessity for all speed, would hear nothing of it. He needed Geno and Gerbil (and he wanted Mickey along), and asked for ink and parchment and a quiet place where they might be alone. They were granted all their requests without question and wound up in an abandoned and ruined farmhouse on the outskirts of the town. The place had been razed in the last dragon raid on Braemar, right before Gary had lured the wyrm into Dvergamal and the gnomish cannon had taken Robert down, and still smelled of soot, but it was light enough in there, since the thatched roof had been vaporized by Robert's deadly breath.

And so the group went to work, with Gary relaying his ideas to Mickey, who produced illusionary images of them on a makeshift table in the middle of the room. As soon as he caught on to Gary's general ideas, Gerbil took over the conversation with Mickey, fine-tuning the basic design into a workable and buildable contraption. All the while, Geno grunted and nodded, scribbling on the parchment, listing the materials and equipment he would need and often interrupting the gnome - whenever the excitable inventor began getting carried away with elaborate and unneeded accessories. Outside the structure, Tommy hovered over them, peeking in over the skeletal stone walls (and often blocking their precious light!).

They got flustered many times, argued more than once, especially Geno and Gerbil. Geno wanted a simple haggis trap, something they could construct in a couple of days; Gerbil's first few designs would have taken a year to build and an army to move. The pragmatic dwarf had the full support of Gary and Mickey, though Gary was truly intrigued by some of the gnome's outrageous designs, and so Gerbil was put under wraps. The gnome offered up more than a few "Oh pooh"s and at one point stood glaring at the others with his fists tucked tight against his hips and his lips pressed tight into thin lines. But eventually they came to an agreement on the design, the pragmatic friends granting Gerbil one or two of his most easily constructed innovations. Next came a materials list, composed by Geno, and then they were off, scattering to the four corners of Braemar in search of the items and a forge.

Lord Badenoch was a quiet man, a stately leader of experience and even temperament. Those qualities were put to the test indeed when Prince Geldion entered the man's study!

"He comes not as a prisoner," the Lord remarked, and his face went suddenly stern, grayish blue eyes narrow and unblinking. Badenoch was tall, nearly as tall as Gary Leger, with broad shoulders and perfect posture. His dark brown hair showed signs of gray at the temples, but he did not seem old or frail. Far from it; it was often whispered across Faerie's hamlets that if Kinnemore could be overthrown, Lord Badenoch should be appointed King.

Diane thought him an impressive and handsome man, a combination of vitality and experience befitting a leader. There was a dangerous quality to him, as well, one that seemed on its very edge now, with his most hated enemy standing barely ten feet away.

Geldion, so often placed in a defensive situation, did well to bite back the sharp retort that came to mind. Neither did he match Badenoch's imposing stare, standing quietly to the side and letting Kelsey do the explaining.

"He is not here as a prisoner," the elf answered firmly, "but as an ally. We have new information concerning our enemy . . ." He looked to Geldion and the Prince nodded. "Our common enemy," Kelsey explained to Badenoch, "King Kinnemore of Connacht."

"If Kinnemore has shown himself as our enemy, then he has done so through the actions of his son," Badenoch promptly reminded. The Lord, too, looked to Geldion. "The people of Braemar and of Drochit, and the Buldrefolk, have not forgotten the battle, Prince Geldion," he said grimly. "If more of Kervin's sturdy folk were about in Braemar this day, you would not have made it to my quarters alive."

"Geno Hammerthrower supports our plan," Diane interjected, though she knew that it was not her place to speak. Badenoch's superior gaze fell over her, and she blushed and averted her eyes.

"This is Diane," Kelsey said. "Wife of Gary Leger, who journeyed with him to aid in our cause."

"She is a fighter?" Badenoch asked, and his tone showed no disrespect, for despite the suit of fine mesh armor the elves had given to her and her size (which was large in a land where the average woman barely topped five feet), she did not hold herself as a warrior.

"She is a thinker," Kelsey corrected.

"It was her magic which showed me the truth about my father," Geldion added.

"A witch?" the Lord asked.

"A thinker," Kelsey reiterated. "With a bit of magic about her, no doubt." He looked to Diane and smiled, and the woman, feeling more than a little out of place, truly appreciated the support.

Kelsey's ensuing nod had Diane reaching into her pouch for the revealing photographs, the picture of the haggis-turned-King near Dilnamarra Keep and the one of the King-turned-haggis atop the crahg.

Neither the pictures nor the continuing assurances of Kelsey and Diane, nor Prince Geldion's diplomatic attitude, did much to convince Badenoch of their perspective on the situation. Even if he agreed that Kinnemore and the haggis had been switched, which he did not, he saw little chance that they might gain anything by hunting the King-turned-monster.

Over the last few weeks, though, Kelsey and Gary Leger, Geno, Gerbil, and Mickey had certainly earned Lord Badenoch's trust and respect. There was even a giant walking free in Braemar, trusted despite the reputation of his race simply because he was known as a friend of these companions.

"I do not agree with your assessment," Badenoch announced after mulling over all the information that had been presented to him, after all the pleas and assurances. "Nor do I agree with your apparent trust of this man." Once again, for perhaps the twentieth time in the short conversation, Badenoch and Geldion locked dangerous stares.

They would have liked nothing more than to be alone, Diane realized, to complete their battle and satisfy their mutual hatred once and for all. If Geldion was truly convinced (and Diane believed that he was), then he and the Lord were on the same side in this conflict, but there remained great animosity between the two.

"And I have no men to spare for your desperate plan," Lord Badenoch added, still eyeing Geldion.

"We have asked for none," Kelsey replied.

"Then what do you ask for?" Badenoch said, seeming for the first time a bit flustered. "Then why have you come to Braemar? Why have you brought Prince Geldion before me?"

"To inform you of our designs," Kelsey answered. "The haggis, pretending to be Kinnemore, will soon march east with his army, and battle will likely be joined."

Badenoch grimaced but did not even blink. It seemed to Diane that he had known this already, but hearing confirmation from Kelsey was painful to him nonetheless.

"And the Tylwyth Teg will not come to your aid," Kelsey went on, and now it was the elf who seemed pained.

"I have heard word of the truce," Badenoch replied grimly.

"Not all of Tir na n'Og agree with it," Kelsey said.

Badenoch nodded - that much was obvious just from the fact that Kelsey was now in Braemar. "I wanted you to know," Kelsey went on. "To know of our plans and to know that I and my companions will not desert you in this dark hour."

"But you will not be there when the battle is joined," Badenoch reasoned. "Your fine sword will play no part, nor will the presence of the spearwielder, whose appearance was said to have made a profound impact on the Connacht army as it battled for Tir na n'Og. Is Braemar any less deserving than your elfish home?" Kelsey sighed deeply. "I must return to the Crahgs," he explained. "As Gary Leger must. If we are right, we may yet avert this tragedy."

"And if you are wrong?"

"Then we'll return," Diane said firmly. "And we'll fight beside you." She paused and flashed a wry smile, then pointed to Prince Geldion. "Even him," she said. "And more than a few of Kinnemore's soldiers will come over to our side with Prince Geldion among our ranks."

Geldion did nothing to affirm the claim, and proud Badenoch did nothing to acknowledge it. Diane remained solid in her determination, though, and both Kelsey and Geldion were silently glad she had spoken the words. Kelsey looked to Geldion suddenly, wondering if it might serve them all better if the Prince remained with Badenoch.

"We need him to tame the haggis," Diane remarked, understanding the elf's look.

Kelsey nodded, and realized anyway that leaving Geldion in Braemar might not be such a good idea. "You may take what materials you need, Kelsenelle-nelvial," Lord Badenoch decided. "I owe you and your companions that much at least. And as for you, Diane, wife of Gary Leger." The proud Badenoch paused and looked intently at Diane, and she rocked back on her heels, intimidated, expecting to be scolded. "I pray that you may return to Braemar on a brighter day," Badenoch finished. "All of Faerie owes your husband a great debt, and I would be honored if we might meet when times are not so grave." He finished with a curt bow, and Diane, overwhelmed, had no reply.

The three left Badenoch's quarters soon after, and on Kelsey's orders, the elf thinking it wise to keep Geldion as far from the activity as possible, headed for the lonely farmhouse away from the bustle of Braemar. Gary, Mickey, and Tommy joined them later in the day, reporting that Geno had secured the forge and most of the materials and Gerbil had nearly completed the final designs.

For the road-weary companions, that night and the next came as a welcome reprieve, a time to brush the dirt from their cloaks and allow their tired bodies some much needed rest. But the reprieve was physical only, for none of them could put the coming trials out of their minds, could forget the sheer wildness and ferocity of the haggis and the fact that a hostile army was even now marching their way.

Geno and Gerbil worked right through the night, right through the next day and the night after that. Gerbil made the designs and explained the concepts, such as how to bend the pounded wire into a spring, and Geno, who had well earned his title as the finest smithy in all the world, only had to be told once. When dawn broke on their third day in Braemar, the two half-sized companions joined the others at the farmhouse and announced that the haggis trap was completed.

"Then we're off," Gary was happy to say.

"Just one problem," Geno replied smugly, and even Gerbil seemed at a loss.

"How are we to carry the thing?" the dwarf asked. "It weighs near to four hundred pounds and is too bulky to be strapped onto a horse."

"Oh, good point," Gerbil groaned, and that groan became general.

"Could build a skid for it," Geno went on. "But that will take another day - make it two days because I need some rest!"

The groan went up a second time.

"We're not having two days to spare," Mickey reasoned.

Gary alone was smiling, and eventually everyone focused on him. "Tommy will carry it," he explained when his mirth drew all eyes his way.

A brief moment of doubts and arguments ensued, particularly from Geldion, who hadn't quite gotten used to having an eighteen-foot-tall giant along. But the complaints quieted soon enough, the others realizing that they had few options, and even proud Kelsey had to admit that having powerful Tommy around might not be a bad thing when facing a wild hairy haggis.

They went to the rebuilt Snoozing Sprite tavern for breakfast - all of them, even Geldion, though Tommy could not fit inside and had to take his meal out on the porch. Then they retrieved the haggis trap, and while Gary's eyes lit up as he regarded a tangible material manifestation of his theory, Kelsey and Geldion looked on doubtfully, not knowing what to make of the curious thing.

Its metal frame was box-shaped, thick rods forged together and supported at each corner by metal joists, and supported diagonally on three sides, corner to corner, by crossing rods. Inside this open frame was a second structure, a jumble of wires, metal rods and springs - more springs than Diane had ever seen together in one place! A spring-loaded plate completed the picture, on the front and open end of the contraption. Geno took special pride in this feature, for he had designed and added a particular action to the fast-opening plate. He nodded to Gerbil and the gnome produced a curious tool, some sort of wrench, and made a simple adjustment to a lever on the side of the box. Gerbil then stepped aside and Geno moved over and grabbed the spring's lever. "Just let the little hairball come at us underground," the dwarf remarked and tugged the lever. The whole contraption jolted hard as the edge of the faceplate slammed straight into the ground, diving deep beneath the surface.

"Boom!" Gerbil explained happily, clapping his plump little hands.

Gary cupped his hand, blew on his knuckles, and rubbed them across his chest. Diane held back her remarks and let him bask in the glory - even to doubting Kelsey and Geldion, this thing looked like it might actually work.

Lord Badenoch was gracious enough to part with a fine pair of horses, and a pony, for Gerbil decided that he had to go along as well, to see how his design worked out in actual application. Tommy had no trouble in keeping up, even with the bulky box on his shoulder and another sack Geno had given to him tucked under his other arm. The road out of Braemar was clear, with no sign of Kinnemore's army yet apparent, and the group made fine progress back to the Crahgs. The weather was an ally, too, fine and clear and with a comfortable breeze blowing off the Dvergamal peaks.

None of them needed to be reminded that the fine weather would also facilitate Kinnemore's march towards Braemar, and all the way around Dvergamal's southernmost peaks, they kept looking back to the west, looking for a telltale cloud of dust.

It rained on the second day, but the clouds flew away on the third, and by late that afternoon they came again upon the Crahgs. Gary sat atop a brown stallion staring long and hard at the ominous mounds, a look of obvious dread on his face.

"It will work," Diane, on her Tir na n'Og mount at his side, insisted. "The trap will catch the thing and then we'll prove that the haggis is really King Kinnemore."

"And th'other way around," Mickey, tucked in his customary spot against the neck of Gary's horse, added. "The trap will work," Geno put in, and Gerbil's head bobbed frantically in agreement.

Logically, Gary didn't disagree, but that did little to calm the dancing butterflies in his stomach. He looked from one companion to the others, settling his gaze on Diane.

"It will work," she whispered determinedly.

"Then how come I feel like Wile E. Coyote?" Gary asked, and kicked his horse into a trot to catch up with Kelsey and Geldion.