CHAPTER TWELVE – A Meeting in a Dark Place
He didn't have to wait long, perhaps fifteen minutes. A heavy, raspy breathing came from the tunnel nearby. It sounded like half a battalion of men. Tharkunn couldn't help but to grin to himself.
"Still stuffing yourself with roasted pork I see, Humorgett."
The man stumbled around the corner some fifty feet away. He was short, no more than five-foot-five, and nearly as round as he was tall. He huffed and puffed as though the walk from his lair had used up most of his energy, which it probably had. His many chins quivered from the exertion.
"Huff-huff, And just what the hell are you, huff-huff, doing here, Doressin? Huff-huff" Humorgett asked. "I'd heard that, huff-huff, you were out of the trade. Huff-huff."
"I am," Tharkunn said. "I'm not here to put a crimp in your operations, …unless of course you try to cross me."
"And why would I do that? Huff-huff."
"You wouldn't," Tharkunn answered. "You're not that stupid. It's why you followed my instructions, and came alone."
Humorgett smiled. The ring allowed Tharkunn to see it, in spite of the darkness. Tharkunn knew Humorgett would have something similar on his person, despite the act of groping along.
"It's also why you'll call off the men who are preparing to follow me from the alley when I leave, because you know I'll see them, and you know I'll kill them."
Humorgett chuckled, his deep-throaty laughter mingling with his wheezing breaths. "Just raise your right arm when you exit. They'll understand the meaning, and leave you be. I should have known that you'd know."
"You did know, but you had to try," Tharkunn said.
"Why did you drag me out here?" Humorgett asked. "What do you want?"
"Information, the kind you'd be likely to know, and probably willing to sell." Tharkunn pulled a tiny felt drawstring pouch from somewhere inside his cloak. "Three small, but flawless rubies," he said, "you'll get two hundred gold apiece for them."
"And just what do you want to know?"
"There was a group here two months ago, led by a man named Dorlikan. They bought supplies from legitimate sources for some fifty men, enough for six months on the road. I'm sure they also did business with you." Humorgett merely nodded to indicate that Tharkunn's assumptions were not wrong.
"I want to know what they bought, and where they were going."
"They bought scrolls, and two vials of Demon's Blood poison." Tharkunn cringed. Demon's Blood poison was nasty stuff, much worse than the Blackthorn powder the orcs had used. He waited.
After a moment, Humorgett said, "If you wish to know where they were going, it'll cost you more than the rubies. I have no desire to cross Alvorin Drezid."
Tharkunn nodded, pulling out another, somewhat larger pouch. He slipped the tiny gem bag inside the larger pouch and tossed the whole thing to Humorgett, who belied his bulk by deftly snatching the thing out of the air. At one time, he'd been a hell of an operator.
"That's another ten platinum crowns, Silveranean stamped coinage. That's another hundred. All I can offer you right now." Humorgett nodded. They both knew the demand of extra payment was more about the game than the money. "And, in addition to where they were going, you're also going to tell me about the scrolls."
Humorgett chuckled again. "The scrolls were nothing, one to allow a mage to control temperature in an area around himself. Apparently Alvorin Drezid finds our local weather a bit too chilly." He chuckled again. "Another was a minor spell which limns a chosen weapon with dark fire. It is only an illusion, but rather intimidating. The last was the most powerful, a spell which would reduce, or even eliminate the innate ability to resist magic that some creatures have." Tharkunn let out a low whistle through his teeth.
"I'm sure you charged them accordingly."
"Of course," Humorgett chuckled again. "Drezid is not lacking for coin these days."
"Why is that?" Tharkunn asked.
"Rumor has it that he found an old trove, rooted out a nest of hobgoblins."
"Where were they headed?"
"I don't know," Humorgett said, "leastways, I don't know for sure."
"Tell me what you heard."
The fat man fingered the pouch again. The last thing he'd need would
be for Tharkunn and the damned altruistic fools he traveled with these days to
be poking around. Best to tell him what he knew and get them on their way.
Drezid wouldn't know who'd talked. He took a deep breath and began to speak again, "One of my lads overheard this Dorlikan say something about Mt. Redhorn."
"Redhorn," Tharkunn mused, stroking the growth of whiskers on his
chin. "That's in the Spine of the World, somewhere northeast of Mithril
Hall. What could they be looking for up there?" The question was a
rhetorical one, but Humorgett obviously assumed Tharkunn wanted an
answer.
"I have no idea," he said. "And, I don't know if it's related or not, but around the time they were here, an acquaintance of mine had an old map stolen from his library."
"Was it considered valuable?" Tharkunn asked.
"Not really," Humorgett answered. "I only bring it up because the map was of the same region. I remember having seen it once or twice, just in passing mind you. But I remember noticing Mt. Redhorn on it."
"Thank you for the information," Tharkunn said, turning and beginning to climb the metal rungs back to the street above. His gut was telling him that Humorgett's information was proof enough, even if they couldn't connect Drezid's men to the theft of the map.
Humorgett turned and began the long walk back to his lair. His gait was much more smooth and easy this time. He smiled to himself as he tucked the pouch away under his cloak.
