CHAPTER TEN - A Step Behind, if Not a Few Steps
More than ten days had passed since the Companions had accepted the commission offered them by the High Lady. They'd ridden north, out of the city, on fine new mounts, each another gift, this time from Toranes, who'd chosen them out from amongst his own stable of such. The High Lady herself had seen them off at the North Gate, wishing them luck and a safe journey, sharing a hug with each of the women, and kiss on the cheek for each of the men. She'd even bent down and rubbed Blizzard's muzzle, which the wolf seemed to take as her due.
With Toranes guiding them, spending most of each day riding ahead to scout, then back several times a day, they made good time. They did, of course, encounter a few dangers, the North being a dangerous place after all. However, they rode in through the gates of Sundabar around noon on the eleventh day, no one much the worse for wear.
Blizzard was once again leashed, for her own safety. Only Toranes, Kyera, Reldrin & Tharkunn had ever been to Sundabar. The city was dark and ominous to behold from a distance, very unlike Silverymoon. It was a place designed primarily to be defended in war, and it showed. There was little beauty in it.
Toranes led them through the streets, seeming to know quite well where he was headed. Their party drew many curious looks, such a large group, with a wolf, a dwarf, a Halfling, several large warriors, and even a priestess of the Morninglord. And, of course, Kyera, Kaylin and Myrian occasioned many a man to glance, usually more than once, in their direction. a'Launiira rode with her hood pulled up, hiding her face. She wore a pair of supple leather gloves as well, though there was no hiding her slight, feminine frame.
Toranes eventually turned into the stable yard of a large inn, constructed primarily of stone, as most of the buildings in Sundabar seemed to be, though the stone was dark, and grey, and somewhat foreboding. The door of the inn was painted a garish yellow. A wooden plaque above the door named it The Dancing Stallion.
A pair of stable hands came out of the stable, into the yard. A few coins changed hands, and the horses were led away. In no time at all, the fat, jovial innkeeper, one Harland Waite by name, had them all seated at a long table along the wall of the common room. Rooms would be prepared for them. They enjoyed a mug of ale, or a glass of wine, as each saw fit, and feasted on a fine meal of butter peas, fried potatoes, and sliced roast of beef, dripping with rich brown gravy. They'd had mainly hard tack and dried meat on the road, and such a fine, hot meal was most welcome.
About halfway through the meal, Tharkunn got up and moved toward the other end of the room.
"Something wrong," Toranes asked quietly, as he rose.
"No," Tharkunn said. "I just see an old acquaintance. I'll be back in a few minutes. Have the girl refresh my ale."
He sauntered across the room and dropped down into a chair, at a table where a heavy-set man had been sitting alone. He was dark-haired with a full beard, shot through with grey. His expensive clothing named him a fairly prosperous man, possibly a merchant. After an initial moment of surprise, he regained his composure, and the two began to talk, quietly.
The rest of the party finished their meal, and sat quietly, enjoying their rest and listening to the man in the corner of the common room who played on a hammered dulcimer. He was fair, but more than once Toranes found himself wincing at a missed note.
Before long, Tharkunn re-joined them. He picked up where he had left off with his meal, wolfing it down, unconcerned that it had mostly grown cold. After he'd finished, Gunthar said, "Did you learn anything useful from your old acquaintance?"
"Yes," Tharkunn said. A rival of his sold enough supplies two months ago to a man named Dorlikan, to outfit fifty men for at least half a year on the road."
"How does that help us?" a'Launiira asked from her shadowed corner.
"Dorlikan is a Zhent agent," Toranes replied, before Tharkunn could. "It gives us an idea of how many men Alvorin Drezid has at his disposal." After a moment's pause he said, "Or had at his disposal two months ago."
Gunthar and Tharkunn both nodded. Circumstances could very well have changed in that time.
"In the morning," Tharkunn said, "I'll ask some questions around town. See if they also bought horses or wagons. Maybe someone saw which direction they were headed when they left."
"They wouldn't have been foolish enough to wear their Zhent cloaks openly," Gunthar said.
"No," Toranes agreed, "they wouldn't. However, the guards would have taken notice of a large group like that. If we're lucky, they might recognize some others. We might even find that some of them had loose tongues. If we're lucky, we might."
They sat for a few minutes. "Tolmen," Toranes said, "perhaps you could accompany Tharkunn tomorrow. You're good at staying unnoticed. Just watch his back. Gunthar and Halion can make a circuit of the gates, talk to the guards. They should be comfortable enough talking to two fighting men. Kyera and Myrian can talk to apothecaries and sages around town, and any mages who might have scrolls to sell. Maybe Drezid tried to buy some here. Reldrin can go with the two of you. His axe might be handy if you run into any trouble." At this, the dwarf, who'd taken on a sour expression brightened a bit. "a'Launiira & Galarid can stay here to keep an eye on our things, along with Blizzard. Kaylin and I will make a circuit of the common rooms, see if we can learn anything that way. Men will talk to a bard, especially if he is buying the ale, and Lathander is well respected around here."
Having agreed on a course of action, they each finished their drink, whatever it might have been, and wandered off to a hot bath and their beds. As the last of them, Reldrin, headed for the stairs, a young lad wearing the simple breeches and coarse shirt of a stableman got up from a table in the far corner. He fiddled with a ring on his right pinky finger as he casually strolled outside. Master Humorgett would certainly want to know about the group at the Dancing Stallion.
Upon reaching the street, he carefully checked his back, while pretending to lace up his boot. There was no one else about on the streets, except a drunk sleeping in the alleyway across from the inn. He'd been there when the boy went in. No danger there. Satisfied he hadn't been followed, he set out.
Just before he reached the corner, a dark shape emerged from the shadows a bit deeper into the alleyway than the drunk. Tharkunn smiled to himself as he trotted off after the young man. Some meetings rarely take place in the daylight.