So, uh, sorry again about lateness. If anyone is still interested, here at last is another update!
...
"This is a foolish idea," the barbarian Rulf declared. "When Lehtinan's head is decorating my sword, I shall raise tankards enough for a hundred men. But his ship may soon weigh anchor and take the dog from our grasp! I shall not sit idle in a tavern, drinking, while…"
"Don't worry, mate…we haven't enough coin for a pint between us!" Finn said, interrupting. "But Yoshimo's plan isn't a bad one. He was right about the Harbourmaster, after all."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Yoshimo replied, somewhat dryly. "If they have no immediate plan to sail, the crew of the Lover's Revenge will all be huddled around a table, mark my words. And the landlord here is an acquantance of mine. If there is any news, he may have heard it."
They stood conferring in an alley, some distance from a tavern known as The Sea's Bounty. Finn didn't know the place, but apparently Yoshimo did. No surprise there. Yoshimo did seem to have friends in odd places. Yet the barbarians weren't convinced.
"What makes you so certain the sailors will be here, and not some other tavern?" asked the female barbarian, whose name was Inga, apparently. Finn still thought of her as the frost maiden.
"Because quite simply, the Sea's Bounty is the nearest to their moorings on the North Quay," Yoshimo replied. "Sailors are in general a shiftless lot. Besides that, Master Teshiir was most insistent we not make a scene. And believe me, madam, he is not a man that even your fearsome band would wish to offend."
The woman snorted but didn't reply. Hendak sighed gruffly.
"Perhaps the slanty-eyed man is correct. And it would be wise for us to take shelter till after sunset. Lehtinan may well have spies on these streets."
The docks were still crowded, and the odd curious face peered their way down the alley. No privacy there. Yoshimo's eyes narrowed even more at the slight, but he too decided to hold his tongue.
The business being more or less agreed on the little band slipped out of the alley, around the corner and down the stairs into the Sea's Bounty tavern.
The building was a ramshackle affair, not so different to many in the poorer parts of the city. It seemed to have been built in stages, with odd wings set on top of each other rather like a child's sandcastle. The common room itself was in the cellar. Cooler that way, Yoshimo said. Finn just hoped the room didn't stink like the sewers they'd so recently left behind.
But his hopes were firmly dashed; though it didn't stink of shite, a different kind of pong wafted through the air. The occupants, and they were many, seemed little acquainted with the idea of bathing. Worse still it seemed many of them had decided to cover the offending smell by dousing themselves in liberal amounts of fragrant oils. Together with the scent of pipeweed it created a noxious atmosphere that almost made Finn long for the simple smell of the sewers.
His eyes searched the room, but he couldn't tell one group of sailors from another. They all looked the same; muscular and tanned, adorned with loose-fitting tunics and trousers. A number of them went barefoot on the straw-strewn floor.
A few women flitted about, rough-looking as fishwives, though they plied a different trade. In a corner sat a man playing an irritatingly jaunty tune on his pipes. The Sea's Bounty seemed determined to offend all of the senses at once.
Yoshimo seemed unconcerned with the lot of it. He strode confidently up to the bar, right up to a man who looked the very impersonation of a storm at sea.
The barkeep was ancient and grizzled, though he still pulled pints with a youthful energy. His long salt-and-pepper beard was stained with yellow streaks, and his face lined with wrinkles so deep they seemed carved into his face. Not all the marks were the result of time and a sun-drenched life; a few pale scars rode lightning-like across his cheek, and his left eye was covered by a patch. His bottom lip stuck out, and he opened his mouth long enough to spit a yellow stream expertly into a nearby pot.
"I beg your pardon," Yoshimo said casually. "I expected The Thumb to be working here this eve, and not a fair maiden."
The grizzled apparition turned to Yoshimo, a twisted grin on his wet lips.
"Well, now. And I weren't expecting some dandy fairy to come flapping 'er wings in 'ere, neither. Where ye been, lad? Some folks was talking you was dead."
Yoshimo smiled at the gritty welcome.
"I was, my man, but I have risen from the grave just so I could once again sample your finest house ale!"
"Seem to remember ye not paying off yer tab for me finest house ale," Master "The Thumb" replied blandly. "Don't suppose the gravediggers left ye with any coin in yer pockets?"
"Ah ha," Yoshimo laughed. "I do apologise. I have been caught up in other things… I promise you I shall make amends as soon as I am able."
"Now would be a good time," The Thumb remarked, and turned his attention back to the pint pots.
Finn noticed he was indeed missing that digit from his left hand. He balled his fingers up instinctively, remembering his own experience in that area.
"Yes… Unfortunately, I am in something of a bind," Yoshimo continued. "I will pay my tab as soon as I am able, but in truth I did not come here today for relaxation. My associates and I are in need of information."
"Hoo haa, are ye now?" The Thumb said snarkily.
"Only a little news," Yoshimo assured him. "We are looking for the crew of the Lover's Revenge. Are they here?"
His voice dropped down low, but The Thumb pretended to be a bit deaf.
"Hey? Lover's Revenge? The Lover's Revenge yer lookin' for?"
He held his maimed hand up to his ear in a mock gesture. Yoshimo scowled awkwardly. Finn moved forward and put his fist on the bar.
"Look, mate, this is important. If you can tell us where the men are, you'll have double whatever Yoshimo owes you in your purse by tomorrow morning. I promise you that."
He couldn't promise that. There was every chance they'd all be dead by tomorrow morning. But in which case they'd have nothing to lose by offering.
The Thumb's yellow lip curled up. He spat out more juice, once more hitting the pot with a startling accuracy. But he nodded his grizzled head.
"You seem like ye've got a bit of muscle with ye. All right, I'll help ye out. But first you need to help me."
"Naturally," Finn sighed.
"There's a fella upstairs who's been giving me a bit of bother. Irritating son of a bitch. Worse than Yoshi here for paying off his tab. I want him out. Turn him out on his arse, and I'll tell ye anything ye want to know."
"One man?" Yoshimo remarked. "Why do you not have your own guards deal with him?"
"Just cause," The Thumb replied. "He's upstairs now, came in about an hour ago. You'll have no trouble spotting the blighter. Red turban. Mustache. And don't mention my name, lads, aye?"
The Thumb hobbled over to another customer. Finn couldn't be certain, but it looked like the man's right leg was false. He groaned and looked at the others.
"Well, it's only one man, how much trouble can he be?"
Finn was fully aware of the irony in his comment. Hendak scowled and the other barbarians didn't look much more pleased.
"As you say. But what reason shall we give this man before we cut off his head?"
Yoshimo sighed.
"Fortunately, in a place such as this one does not need a reason for inciting violence. But even so, I am certain the landlord would not want us to resort to anything unnecessary, hm? Let us at least speak to the man before doing anything rash."
"Rash, like take on a ship full of smugglers all by ourselves?" Finn muttered.
"Yes, perhaps…" Yoshimo mused. "Perhaps Finn and myself should go up together. We may better get a feel for this fellow, gauge the strength of his arm. Less likely to cause a scene that way. Hendak and his good friends may follow us up shortly."
"And if you find yourselves in difficulty?" Hendak asked.
"Then I'm sure you'll hear about it," Finn sighed again.
He wasn't expecting the barbarians to agree to stay put, but thankfully they did. Finn felt remarkably glad to be free of their presence for a short time; Hendak and his men were unsettling, at that.
...
Yoshimo and Finn mounted the steps, up to what was the ground floor of the tavern. Oddly there appeared to be no doors on that level. The old entrances had been covered by boards and nailed shut. There were at least some windows, covered as they were by slatted shutters. Perhaps they could toss the blighter out of one of those. The Thumb hadn't been too specific in his demands.
As he said though, the man in question wasn't hard to spot. Only one head in the place wore a bright red turban. And it appeared he had attracted a fair crowd around him.
A number of men and women hovered around the corner where the man sat, priest-like, pontificating on something or other. Looking at the people Finn got the feeling they weren't local. Obviously upper class, though a few peasants stood humbly in back. Finn couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was obviously entertaining. The man made some little remark and the crown bust into appreciative laughter.
Finn nudged his way through the group, trying to get a closer look at the fellow. Whatever reason The Thumb couldn't have him tossed out, it wasn't for being the biggest man in the place. He looked rather slight of frame, and seemed to be unarmed. None of the bees that hovered around him looked anything like a guard. It wasn't muscle keeping him in that seat, certainly.
"I say again, if ladies insist on writing poetry for their own amusement, let them keep to domestic subjects. The feminine heart is altogether too emotive and irrational to posess any significant understanding of the philosophy, which is the essence of true poetry… A lady trying to capture the spirit of the gods in nature is a tiring thing, but I have read some entertaining verse dedicated to the antics of the household cat!"
This grand statement seemed to please the crowd greatly; even the assembled females seemed pleased by his backwards praise. Finn looked him over. For all his misgivings about the fairer sex, he seemed to have more than a little air of womanhood about him. He was young, under thirty, but apart from a pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip his cheeks were smooth as a maiden's. That pristine white silk jacket obviously cost a lot of coin, and his fingers were decorated with rings.
The young man noticed Finn towering over the assembled crowd, and a slight smile parted his fine lips.
"Well! It seems we have been graced by the presence of an actual god this fair eve. Hail and welcome, my lordship! By the scent of brimstone I gather you have travelled here from the lower planes? At least, I think that is brimstone I can smell."
He chortled and reached for the goblet of wine that sat in front of him. Finn took a step back, startled, but steadied himself. Likely that fellow had no idea how keen he actually was.
"Just looked like there was a little party here," Finn muttered.
"Always, my good man. You are welcome to join our little salon! Do you have an interest in poetry?"
"Don't know much about it," Finn replied.
"Ah. Fear not…I am always happy to educate the masses. Unlike certain snobs I have no great dislike for the peasantry. After all, where would our picturesque pastorals be without them?"
He laughed again, and his court laughed with him. Finn felt his face beginning to grow hot under the man's insolent gaze.
"Is that what you're doing here? Talking…poetry?"
"Does it sound rather dull to you?" the man asked. "I could of course recite some erotic verse, if that would be more to your taste. Nymphs frolicking with satyrs, and that sort of thing."
The man smirked and Finn's face grew even redder. Yoshimo seemed to take his cue, and stepped forward with a slight flourish.
"A poet! Indeed, we are lucky this day. In my land the poet is celebrated as much as the warrior, perhaps even more so. Were it true in this place."
The man's eyes seemed pleased indeed looking at Yoshimo. They lost that air of a cat playing with a mouse, and showed some genuine interest.
"Oh, I do say! Are you from Kara-Tur, my good sir? I once had the fortune of speaking to a wanderer from that fair land. He inspired one of my finest eastern pieces. It is a land of myth and beauty!"
"Quite so, my lord," Yoshimo said, bowing appreciatively. "And I should be honoured to hear my land described in verse. But you will pardon me, that I do not know your name?"
"It seems my fame has not spread as far as I would like," the man clucked. "But I should not wonder that a traveller from such a far-off land has not heard it. I am Isaea Roenall, a man of letters, and a humble student of the world. And you, good sir?"
Finn stiffened. Yoshimo might not have heard that name, but he had. Was this fop really Lady Nalia's betrothed? No wonder she couldn't stand him.
"Isaea Roenall!" Yoshimo repeated with force. "Why, yes! I have heard your name. It was you who penned that fine eastern piece, yes… I recall… The name was…"
Yoshimo paused, racking his brain for information that no doubt wasn't there. Fortunately Isaea Roenall needed little prompting.
"About Princess Mehai and her ill-fated lover, the pirate of Shou Lung? The Jade Talisman, a Tragedy in Three Cantos. Ah! But I poured my heart and soul into that work. For months it drove me mad. Oh, but I could see the fair princess and her lover embracing in the caves, their clandestine meeting place! And the jade talisman, the lover's token that alerted her tyrant father to their plans. A good device, that. Between us, I almost considered allowing the lovers to escape. It seemed almost inhuman to doom the young pair… But of course tragedy sells so much more than a happy ending."
Roenall sighed deeply and raised his goblet in a toast to the fictional lovers, dead at his own hand.
"It was indeed a most powerful tale," Yoshimo sighed himself. "Perhaps…too powerful."
"My man, whatever do you mean?" Roenall asked.
Yoshimo shrugged indifferently.
"The story was remarkably similar to the fate endured by a true princess of Kozakura. You did say it was inspired by a traveller, did you not?"
"Only obliquely," Roenall insisted. "The themes represented can be found in nearly every land. I really only took the names of places…"
"Themes, yes…but Princess Mehai is quite real. Her name, and her tragic fate are well known in my land." Yoshimo dropped his voice, leaning in so the fellow behind the table could hear him. "Truth be told…I have heard the tyrant in question was most displeased by the story, to the point of hiring assassins to deal with whoever was responsible for his defamation."
A strange look passed over Roenall's face, a mixture of disbelief and fear.
"Surely, my man, you cannot be serious? Why, it was fiction only!"
"Clearly this princess' father thinks otherwise," Yoshimo said gravely. "And more to the point, I have recently encountered some fearsome individuals who were seeking the author of this very piece! A remarkable coincidence. They are northern types…barbarians…hardened and bloodthirsty. You cannot have encountered any such people recently?"
"Indeed, I have not," Roenall said quickly. "But I still do not understand…this poem was published years ago…"
"The distance to Kara-Tur is great," Yoshimo told him. "It takes time… But… My lord! Those men…do my eyes decieve me? It is them! They are here!"
Yoshimo had been surreptitiously keeping an eye on the stairs throughout his little speech, no doubt hoping Hendak and his men would make an appearance. Fortunately, the barbarians didn't miss their cue. Isaea Roenall took one look at the battle-hardened barbarians, and promptly ducked under the table.
"No…they cannot…this is folly! Folly! Send them away, I beg you!" Roenall pleaded from his hiding place.
His assembled court clearly had no desire to fight for his honour, and the group melted away fast as a wink. Hendak and his crew strode over to where Finn and Yoshimo stood, shielding the crouching Roenall as best they could.
"Where is this dog, the one that we seek?" Hendak asked Finn.
"Not here," Finn replied boldly. "There's nobody here. You should just go back downstairs."
He noddedly knowingly at the table behind them. Hendak looked confused for a moment, but then a wolf-like grin broke over his face.
"I see. Clearly, we were deceived. We shall take our leave."
He gestured to the puzzled barbarians, but they followed their leader without comment. Hendak and his men disappeared down the steps, and Yoshimo spoke quickly.
"Ah, that was close! But these men will not give up. You must leave this place, my lord, while you are still able!"
"But… They are downstairs…they are waiting," Roenall said, poking his turbaned head out from underneath the table. It had slipped to one side, allowing his short black curls to poke out. He looked a ridiculous sight.
"You can get out the window," Finn said quickly. "Come on, I'll open this shutter open for you."
Roenall wasted little time in following after him. Quickly and furtively Finn undid the latches, opening a portal for the man out onto the safety of a back alley.
Deftly the man slid out of the frame. For such a dandy he could remove with a remarkable speed; with his attitude making a hasty exit was probably a survival skill. But before he left, he paused to clasp Finn's hand.
"My man, I am in your debt. Do come with your friend to my villa outside the Government District…my servant shall have a reward waiting for you. But for myself, I think it wise to leave the city for a time. Fare thee well!"
And with that, he was gone. Finn watched him go, surprised again at the agility he seemed to posess. He wished for a moment Lady Nalia had been there to witness her darling betrothed being made a fool of, but no matter. The business was done. Finn locked the shutter again and wiped the dust on his trousers.
...
"Ooh hoo ha, that's rich, that is!"
The Thumb hadn't stopped howling since they told him of Roenall's fate. He wiped a tear from his one good eye, trying to collect himself.
"With any luck the sod will be halfway to Imnescar by now. Good on ye, lads, good on ye! Right clever, that is. Tickles me belly something good. Ask away, anything ye want to know."
"Pretty simple," Finn said, trying to lower the landlord's voice to a dull roar. "We want to know about the Lover's Revenge. Her crew. When she might be sailing out."
"And, if by chance, my tab might be erased…?" Yoshimo added hopefully.
"Eh…don't push it," The Thumb chortled. "But your crew just had their supper here short while ago. Left just before you arrived."
"And you could not simply tell us this, instead of sending us on this foolish errand?" Hendak demanded.
"Why should I?" The Thumb replied, defiant. "Don't get something for nothing, not in Athkatla at any rate. But I can tell ye they don't have plans of sailing tonight. Lover's Revenge always sits in port a couple days, at least. Some folks says they got a special cargo, if you know what I mean. Not the sort to unload in broad daylight."
"Any ideas where this special cargo is bound for?" Finn asked.
The Thumb shrugged.
"No idea. But they says the wagons roll up to the ship in the small hours. Covered wagons. The crew gets in, and off they go. Only, I reckon they ain't the crew, aye? Takes them poor devils to whatever fate is awaitin."
The Thumb clucked and shook his head in a slightly indifferent manner.
"I know where they will be going," Hendak said grimly. "A warehouse, where the business is done. But our concern now is with Lehtinan. He shall likely not be attending the market…he will stay on board the ship. No doubt much of the crew will be gone, acting as guards. In the small hours they will not be expecting a strike."
"Plannin' on raising some hell?" The Thumb asked, for once sounding amiable. "Well, enjoy yerselves. Done plenty of that meself in my time. We got provisions here, if you lads is hungry. Grab a table and one of the wenches will be around. Let me know if they ain't, and I'll go and slap their lazy arses!"
He guffawed again to himself, still obviously pleased with the business. Finn didn't see the point of mentioning they had no coin, and neither did anyone else. He was damned hungry.
They found an empty table and one of The Thumb's wenches brought bowls of suspicious-looking pottage, stale bread, and ale that seemed to be brewed from rusted nails. The provisions were quickly devoured as if they'd been a gift from a king.
...
A gift it wasn't, though, and the group slipped out the door soon after finishing.
"Do you think this old man will have the guards after us for failing to pay for our meal?" Hendak asked Yoshimo.
"I am certain he knew we would leave without settling the bill," Yoshimo told him. "For all his bluster The Thumb is not nearly so concerned about tabs as he might have you believe. Some say he even has a secret horde hidden away, a relic of his privateering days! But still, better not to linger, eh?"
Finn couldn't say he was sorry to see the back of the Sea's Bounty. It was dark now, the sun finally extinguished in the sea. The air was still warm, and felt more humid than it had during the day. The very breeze had dropped and the docks were strangely empty and still.
Yoshimo went on a casual stroll, scoping out the Lover's Revenge while the others waited in an alley. After a short time he reported back.
"The sails are down, with little sign of activity on deck," he said. "The Thumb was correct that they have no immediate plans to sail. The gangplank is up, though, and getting on board may be a challenge."
"What do you suggest?" Hendak asked.
"If this midnight drive is to take place, let us wait till they depart. I believe I can make it onto the deck by myself. Once on board, I will lower the plank."
"And what if Lehtinan does indeed take his leave with these wagons?" Rulf asked.
"Why should the coward leave by wagon, when he has a ship?" the red-headed barbarian replied.
"Krev speaks true," Hendak agreed. "No doubt that dog is sweating in the ship's cabin even as we speak. I wish we could let him know his doom is at hand!"
"Think he might well bolt then," Finn remarked.
He sighed and slid down onto the cobblestones of the alley. How he did wish they had coin enough to wait in a tavern… He looked up at the rectangular patch of sky above them. It was a royal blue, dappled in diamond stars, like some fine lady's gown.
His thoughts drifted to Anna. Funny that he hadn't thought of her much since this whole business began. Maybe he just didn't want to think about what he was going to tell her when it was all done. She seemed dream-like again. A vision. She was out there, somewhere, he was sure. Maybe she was looking for him right then. Finn reached out, trying to feel her, but he could touch nothing.
"Your fire is dying," Hendak remarked.
The barbarian came and slid down next to him. He ran a thumb over the glossy jet of his enchanted axe-blade, caressing its sharpness.
"Just tired," Finn sighed.
"My body also feels that weariness," Hendak admitted. "But my spirit will not allow me to rest until our revenge has been attained."
"And then what?" Finn asked.
"A good ale. And a good sleep, in an actual bed. Why, what do you think of?"
"I've no objection to those things just now," Finn said. "But I meant, what are you going to do when Lehtinan is dead?"
Hendak pursed his thin lips.
"In my land, it is customary for the warlords to display the heads of their enemies within their halls. A token of their potency, and a symbol of their defeated enemy's enslavement, even after death. Perhaps I should do the same to Lehtinan."
He chuckled grimly, still caressing that axe like a lover.
"You got a hall then, somewhere?"
"No. But I know one that will be open for the taking."
Indeed, the Copper Coronet would soon be without an owner.
"And what about the pit?" Finn asked. "You keeping that open and all?"
Hendak scowled, his blue eyes burning bright.
"No. I have had enough of slavery. The curse…it must be lifted. I can bear no more."
"What do you mean?" Finn said.
Hendak's eyes had taken on a strange light, even by his standards.
"You will not know this," Hendak began. "But I once served Lehtinan in another sense. I was one of these foul men who brought that devourer his flesh. I cared nothing for my fellow men. They were but cattle to me, a means to riches. And on one of our voyages we captured a woman. She was little more than a peasant, but very fair. To ease my own boredom, I had her brought to me. But she did not want me, and she fought with every ounce of strength she possessed. I had my way with her…but she cursed me. She swore to me then that I should receive the same fate as all those I had condemned. Not the first time I had been sworn at, to be sure. But something about this woman's speech…"
He paused, and Finn drew a short breath.
"What did you do?"
"I took up my dagger, and I slit the wench's throat," Hendak replied. "But her blood felt like acid on my skin. And her eyes, as she died… I knew then I was cursed. It would come to pass. Not long after I had a falling out with Lehtinan. He had me seized, thrown into his wretched pit. No doubt he did not expect me to survive. But survive I did."
Finn was silent. He in fact knew more than Hendak suspected. The slaver Ulvax had told him as much.
"I don't know why he didn't just have you killed," Finn remarked.
"Because that would not have suited his cruel soul as much. Besides, I soon became an attraction in my own right. All came to see the Death-Bringer. Many, many lives I did claim."
"And you didn't think to…stop?" Finn asked him. "Just refuse? How many men have you killed down there?"
Hendak's sharp glare turned to him.
"And if I did not kill them, others would. There was no escaping the cruelty of Lehtinan's pit. That was my punishment. I could not save their lives, but I could set them free. Freedom in death. For I also knew, surely, that one day Lehtinan would fall to my hand. And for him there will be no freedom. My curse shall be his. I will devour his soul."
He spoke those words so levelly it sent a chill down Finn's spine. For one moment he had a vision of an armoured figure, horns on his head, towering like a mountain in front of him. He shut his eyes hard.
"You can do that?" Finn asked, almost like a child.
"Indeed I can," Hendak hissed. "His soul will be mine."
Finn wondered for a fleeting moment if he could do the same. He opened his eyes, and the vision was gone.
...
"Sorry, miss, but we need to get this lot up to the graveyard quickish. With this heat… And the rats will be round after sundown. They'll have a feast, all right. We couldn't clear all this offal out of here tonight, even if we tried."
Such was the muffled verdict of the wagoner who had been enlisted to help clear away the mangled wreck of bodies from the Copper Coronet. The man had wrapped a kerchief around his face, and all that was visible of him were his eyes and bald head.
"But, there are people here still looking for their loved ones," Aerie pleaded. "If you take them away, they might never know…"
"Can't name someone on nothing more than an arm or leg," the man said gruffly. "No choice, love. Business needs doing. And I damn better be paid well for it, too! Not seen anything like this, not even in the army."
"You will be paid," Jaheira said.
She stood with her arms folded, gazing down at the dirty street in a distracted fashion. The last light of day shone on her tanned arms, making her look like a statue in bronze. The wagoner grunted and went on his business.
At least Lehtinan's coffers would see to that. They had secured a significant horde in the man's office. The barbarians had done their part to round up what was left of the victims, doing so in a disturbingly efficient manner. Only their own fallen bretheren did they treat with much respect. At least they did not appear to blame them for their deaths.
Anna sighed and turned away. She had no desire to set foot in that accursed tavern again, but there was nowhere else to go for now. Near the entrance a matron and a young woman stood with arms around each other, sobbing in unison. Relations of one of the barmaids, so Anna gathered. One of the few bodies who had claimed a name.
But most conspicuous were the absence of any guards. No one official, at least. The barbarians stood watch over the fallen, making sure no one came in off the streets to try and empty their pockets. Again. The local urchins did try their luck.
Such a slaughter here…how many dead? Dozens. A massacre by anyone's standards. But why did no one care? Surely even Amn could not be so corrupt, so heartless as that. But so it appeared.
There was at least one familiar face who survived the rampage. Anna noticed the barkeep, Bernard, emerging from the kitchens with a hand cart laden with goods.
"Where are you going with that?" Anna asked him.
"Round to me sister's," the fat man answered her. "No point in leaving it here for the rats or the scavengers. Might cushion the blow a little when she learns I'll be kipping at hers for now. I'm out of a job, all right."
"But what if Lehtinan comes back?"
Bernard let out a hollow laugh.
"Bout as much chance of that as these poor souls getting up and walking again. He's gone now. No chance the powers that be will ever let him run this place again."
"What, the Council?"
Bernard looked at her as if she were slightly ignorant.
"No, lass. You get any luck in finding your man?"
"No," Anna sighed. "He's gone…chasing after Lehtinan. Do you know anywhere, can you think of where he might be?"
A pointless questions. She was certain Jaheira had already interrogated him in that regard. Bernard only shrugged his fat shoulders again.
"Don't know, lass. I can only think he'll be looking to get out of town quick as can be. Docks would be my best guess."
Anna took a sharp breath and nodded. Bernard and his cart trundled away.
She noticed Xan coming down the steps from the brothel. The elf looked weary and vexed as she'd ever seen him.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I have just been engaging in a little discussion with Madame Nin," he began. "I convinced her it was in her best interests to aid us, but she knows little that will be of use. She concerned herself with running her own branch of the business, and knows little of Lehtinan's. The vile creature is sitting up in her fine bed even now, cursing at me for the scars on her hand. What a wretched woman!"
"She should be turned in to the authorities for what she's done," Anna said heatedly. "She's a murderer! Killed her own people without the slightest regard."
"Slaveowners generally have little regard for their chattel," Xan said. He noted Anna's look of surpise and sighed. "I should not be sorry to see that woman on a gallows platform. But she has money and connections, and no doubt knows many awkward details about certain individuals in this city. I have little doubt that even if she were to be arrested, she would soon find herself proven innocent."
The innocent was delivered with more than a touch of irony.
"Where are you going now?" Anna asked him.
"To report to Jaheira what little I have learned, and then I am returning to the inn."
"But what about Finn? He's out there, somewhere, and he might still be in danger."
"And we do not know where he is," Xan replied. "We can hardly search the entire city."
"I thought that is just what we had been doing," Anna said coolly.
Xan sighed and ran his fingers through his lank, sweaty hair.
"What more do you expect to accomplish here tonight? We are surrounded by a…an abbotoir, the dregs of all human cruelty. We could scour the city till daybreak, but I do not think we could find Finn. They escaped through the sewers, they could be absolutely anywhere. Finn is capable. He will look after himself."
"I think Jaheira will say different," Anna said. "The barkeeper, Bernard, he mentioned the docks…"
"I doubt somehow that she will," he replied, a little sharply. "We are all exhausted, out of leads. If there were any hope… But there is not."
"Hope for what?" she asked, her own tone sharpening.
Xan looked at her.
"Hope for finding Finn and Yoshimo, of course. I do not want to abandon them, whatever your stares suggest. But wandering the streets and shouting their names will help little, and unless you have any other ideas, I shall take Aerie and return to the inn. In the morning we can begin again."
"I'm not certain she wants to return to the inn," she said, tossing her head. "She wants to help as much as I do."
After all her thoughts about Aerie lately, Anna's sudden defence felt odd. But the girl had indeed seemed remarkably keen. Only her sympathetic interest in dealing with the aftermath of the slaughter had deterred her. For all her flighty, fey attitude she could display a stern will when she chose.
"She can hardly remain here. I am certain she will see reason," he decided.
"More so than you? I hope so," Anna declared.
Xan had nothing to say to her remark. He dismissed her with a slight wave of his hand, and went in search of Jaheira.
...
Perhaps Anna couldn't count on Xan's valour, but she felt more sure of the others. Steeling herself she wandered back into the bowels of the Coronet, where she found Minsc and Anomen toiling with a grim business.
"By Torm, there is no end to this," the squire announced.
He and Minsc bore between them a makeshift stretcher. Underneath a blanket was a body, though an oddly mishappen one. As they walked a hand appeared from under the cover, then slid with a flop to the floor.
"There's…" Anna said, pointing at the ghastly token.
"Again?" Anomen proclaimed. He and Minsc paused and set the stretcher down. The squire fetched the relic and stuffed it quickly out of sight under the blanket.
"This is no fit place for ladies," Anomen told her, though his tone was more abrupt than chivalrous.
"It is the women who wail the most keenly," Minsc replied. "Does Anna plan to wail? Boo says he must cover his ears first!"
"Ah, no," Anna replied. Even if Finn's body lay under that blanket, she doubted she could summon the energy for vocal mourning just then. "I thought we should continue our search for Finn and Yoshimo. Bernard seems to think Lehtinan might have been heading for the docks. It's as good a place to start as any."
"The docks," Anomen spat. "A sprawling district, crawling with thieves and all manner of disreputable individuals."
"Then this Lehtinan will surely be there, yes?" Minsc remarked.
"He's trying to make his escape. He might be there. It's worth a look," Anna continued. "We need to find him, before..."
She was deliberately embroidering the slim information the barkeep had presented her, but she didn't care.
"There are dozens of ships moored there at any time," Anomen continued, matter-of-factly. "Perhaps you are correct, but without the consent of the authorities we would have no call to search on board. And I doubt you could enlist the aid of a magistrate at this hour."
"But what about the city guard? What about your own people, the Knights of the Radiant Heart? Someone must help! Someone!"
She spoke more to herself than them. Anna trailed along behind the men as they bore the stretcher towards the street, looking indeed like a makeshift funeral procession.
Anomen shook his head.
"Do you think I have not considered this? Perhaps Sir Ryan… Bringing such a criminal as Lehtinan to justice would certainly be of interest to him. But we are limited in where we can act. He says the Council tolerates our activities, but we must not… Never mind."
He shut his mouth quickly, perhaps aware that he was saying more than he intended.
"Fear not, Anna!" Minsc replied. "We shall help you look for our missing friends. Boo's nose will sniff them out, no matter where they might be!"
"Thank you, Minsc," she said quietly.
Good old Minsc, faithful enough to shame any hound. Anna left them at the tavern and stepped outside, guided by the sound of voices. She found Aerie and Xan in a heated discussion.
"Why…why do we need to go back to the inn when there's one here?" the girl demanded.
"You do not think it better to rest in one that is not filled with dead bodies?" Xan demanded in return.
"Well, of course… But I don't want to go back, to just sit around… So many people are upset. Maybe we can reassure them, somehow…"
"Reassure them of what, exactly?"
"That they are safe now. Don't you want to help them?"
Aerie stared at him with an uncomprehending innocence. Her bright blonde hair had broken free of its braids and framed her pale face, giving her a sylvan sort of look. Xan looked fit to tear his own sweaty hair clean out.
"Yes, we shall simply reassure them that they are safe…that the endless criminals who prowls these streets will not attempt to steal their few possessions, that the Council will not rob what little they have left, and that they shall soon be led from this cesspit of filth and disease into palaces fit for kings! Is that all you want us to do, Aerie? Why not? I have a century or two to spare."
"Would it hurt you so much just to talk to them?" the girl replied. "After everything they've been through? I know they're poor. They know they're poor, too. But this doesn't have anything to do with that."
"It has everything to do with it," Xan growled. "But I can't help them, and neither can you. We have no power here. Let us be away from here, and at least…"
"What?" Aerie asked.
She stared at him levelly, all her flustered emotions now ironed out like silk. It seemed the angrier Xan got, the calmer she became.
"Bathe?" he spat out. "It would be a start."
He seemed almost inclined to laugh for a moment, though not really out of humour. Anna drew a breath and walked up to them.
"I'm going to find Finn," she said. "Aerie, you're welcome to join me."
Xan gave her a scowl, but Aerie turned that gaze towards her.
"Yes… Our own friends are out there, and you just want to go and have a bath! Uncle Quayle would never rest at a time like this, and neither will I. You know, once, one of the children wandered away while we were camped up in a remote spot. We stayed there for days, searching day and night. Quayle never gave up. He was out there, with a lantern…"
"Merciful Seldarine," Xan muttered. "Not another story. Very well, I surrender. To the docks it is, then! We will search under every table in every tavern until we find them. I must go and speak with Jaheira. See if she has any more sense in her than these two women."
He brushed past them, still muttering things to himself. Anna's face went red.
"Rude!" she exclaimed. "Forever rude and miserable. You'd think he never cared about anyone in his life."
"He's frustrated, I think," Aerie said, watching him dissapear into the tavern.
"I'm beginning to think you're right," Anna said bitterly. "So did they…find the child?"
She turned her hot gaze down to the cobblestones at their feet, trying to dispense with her own anger. Aerie nodded her head.
"Oh, yes," she said brightly. "He was frightened and hungry, but not badly hurt. I told you, Quayle never gives up."
"Then I wish he was here now," Anna said without thinking.
"So do I," the girl replied.
...
Anna felt the innapropriateness of her comment. She looked up to apologise, but Aerie only had a little smile on her face, lost in a kind of reverie. But Anna's gaze quickly moved past her to someone who was walking up the street, straight towards them.
It was a woman. She wore a long silken tunic and loose trousers, a common style for those in the city who wanted to adopt a more southern air. Her clothes were dyed a brilliant shade of blue and twinkled with little crystals set like water drops along the hems. Fine gold bracelets decorated her wrists, and she wore a scarf draped casually over her dark hair.
"May I…help you?" Anna heard herself saying.
It was obvious that woman didn't belong there. The woman smiled a polite little smile and slipped up to Anna with the smoothness of a dancer.
"A pearl to you," she said. "I have come to see the Copper Coronet."
Aerie's mouth opened a little, and Anna drew a breath.
"You may want to find somewhere else to drink," she told her. "There was an…incident here today. I don't think the bar will be open for some time."
"Mmm, no?" the woman said, regarding the building with an appraising eye. "Is it true that Lehtinan is dead?"
"Well, I…" Anna said, surprised. "We don't know if he's dead. He did flee, and in any case, he's not here. Why do you ask?"
The woman didn't answer.
"What of Madame Nin?" she asked instead.
"Still alive. Why, do you…work for her?"
The woman had a kind of exotic grace about her that reminded Anna of some of the dancing girls she'd seen in the city. Fortunately the woman didn't seem offended by the question, and burst out into laughter instead.
"Me? Oh, no! And what of old Bernard, the barkeeper?"
"He has gone round to his sister's," Anna said.
She immediately regretted revealing the information. Something about the appearance of the remarkably dressed woman was unsettling. But the mysterious woman only nodded her head.
"I see. And who else is here?" the woman demanded. "Salema. I must certainly speak with her, if she's still alive."
"I'd like to know who you are, first," Anna remarked.
The woman just smiled brightly.
"Never mind. But now I must go and find Bernard. Wouldn't want him to start thinking of retirement, would we? Fair trading to you both."
And with that she was gone, wandering casually up the darkening street as if she were in her own private garden.
"What do you suppose that was about?" Anna asked Aerie.
But the girl was none the wiser. With the shadows lengthening, the two of them went back inside the shattered inn.
...
"Don't have the slightest idea who you mean," the man behind the bar barked. "Now maybe if ye was to order an ale…"
"Fine then," Jaheira sighed. She dropped a few coins onto the filthy, ale soaked wood. "Now can you remember?"
The ancient barkeep swept her coins away with a hand, and Anna couldn't help but notice he was missing a thumb.
"Let's see… Tall fella, beard. Slanty-eyed chap from Kara-Tur. And some northern barbarians. Sure ye don't want to throw in a few piskies for good measure?"
The impatience was tight around Jaheira's mouth. This was the third tavern they'd enquired in, with no luck. No one there, or on the streets had seen anyone matching Finn or the others' description. Or so they claimed.
"That is correct," Jaheira answered.
"Can't say I've ever laid eyes on 'em," the barkeep responded. "Here's yer ale, missy. Drink and be merry at The Sea's Bounty!"
He slapped a tankard of ale in front of the druid, and turned away with a laugh.
"He is lying. I am certain of it," Anomen declared.
"The good priest thinks everyone we meet is a liar," Minsc remarked. "Surely some people must tell the truth some of the time."
"That is because they are!" the squire puffed. "Such a retched pit of deceit I have never known!"
"And what now?" Xan said wearily.
The elf followed them with all the enthusiasm of a chained dog as they made their way back out into the street.
"There must be somewhere…anywhere…" Anna said to herself.
It was late. The streets were nearly empty, but the taverns were crowded. The denizens of the docks clearly enjoyed their late nights. Above them towered the masts of tall ships, lit by lanterns in the night. No guards were to be seen.
A puff of wind blew in from the sea. Out on the horizon the stars were dim. Perhaps a storm was blowing in. But Anna thought little of rain just then.
"I do not know what to do," Jaheira replied.
A rare admission. The druid had agreed to the search, perhaps as much out of a desire to escape the blood-soaked Coronet as anything else. But even she was at the end of her tether.
"Perhaps I could ask Baervan for a sign," Aerie suggested. "He gives aid to the lost. He could help us…"
"Finn is not lost!" Minsc exclaimed. "He is no doubt engaged in great battles below our feet! Can you sniff him out, Boo? There! A grate leading to the sewers! Come, my friends, and…"
"No!" Jaheira exclaimed, with all the harshness of a schoolmistress. "We shall not go stumbling around the sewers now. Let us try and regroup. Pray for them, Aerie, for I do not think there is much else we can do."
Unconsiously their feet had been leading them away from the docks. Jaheira rubbed her arms briskly, though the night wasn't cold. She looked weary and lost herself.
"I'll stay, then," Anna remarked. "I just can't…"
Tears welled up, and she said no more.
"Baervan, Baervan, show us the way…" Aerie chanted to herself.
"I do not think the gods will be kind enough to give us a sign," Xan said bitterly. "We are as lost as we ever were."
They wandered on aimlessly for a time, but Anna stopped cold in the street. She couldn't take one more step. She felt turned to ice, every last part of her frozen. The only heat she felt was from the hot tears that flowed down her face.
Xan had been trailing behind the others, and he came up to her.
"Come," he sighed. "Little good can be done standing here. We can search again in the morning."
"And in the morning you will tell me again it's a waste of time, and that you'd rather eat your breakfast. And you'd be right."
She was numb, exhausted. She would stand there till the sun rose and set again, rooted to the spot like a statue. The others had just been humouring her. Anna knew as well as they did that it was hopeless.
"Well...I hardly ever eat breakfast," Xan said with a little cough.
Anna could only shake her head as the tears continued to roll. Xan tugged on her arm slightly, trying to get her to move. But then Xan himself seemed to freeze. He stared back down the street, his eyes grown wide in surprise.
"By the sea and stars!" he cried out.
...
It was dark now. Dead of night. No moon was in the sky. Just hundreds of little stars that glowed bright and cold above him. Each one, it seemed, had a voice. Hundreds of voices, faint, like the whispering grave.
Finn watched them as he bobbed along. He was drifting on the sea, carried along in his own little boat. He couldn't hear what the stars were saying. But it seemed to him somehow that they were crying. A distant wail, hard to hear over the lapping of the waves.
They were crying. From the heavens fell distant tears. Closer and closer, faster and faster they fell. But only when they grew close did Finn see them for what they really were. Hundreds of spears, their tips bright with star-fire. A harsh cry escaped from Finn's lips, but there was no escape, no shelter. He raised an arm in vain defense, but then suddenly the spears were gone.
"Wake up, brother. You are sleeping."
Finn jerked, his eyes suddenly wide open. It was dark all right, but he was on solid land. That same stinking alley where they'd been holed up for hours, waiting to make their move. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked around wildly.
"Fear not. I do not blame you for sleeping" Hendak told him.
"Cheers," Finn said, his mouth dry. He looked around. He could feel the eyes of the other barbarians on him in the dark.
"Yoshimo back yet?" he asked.
"Not yet. I think it will not be long now," Hendak replied.
"Yeah," Finn sighed.
He rubbed his tired eyes and tried to catch his breath.
"You were dreaming?" Hendak said, low. "I wonder, what do you dream of?"
"Does it matter?" Finn said.
"Perhaps."
Finn glanced at the man. Even in the dark there was little mistaking his lean, wolf-like form. Even if he couldn't see him, Finn could almost tell he was there. It was a strange sort of feeling, and he really didn't like it.
"Just dreams, mate," he answered shortly. "No worse than usual."
"Then I shall ask no more," Hendak replied.
Thank the gods for that, Finn thought. There were a few silent moments, and Finn thought of getting up for a piss. But then a shadow slipped into the alley.
"It was as you said," Yoshimo began. "Several wagons appeared, and many people were loaded into them in silence. Far too many to be the crew. But they have now departed. If we are to make our move, this shall be the best time."
"By Tempus! It's about damned time," the woman Inga declared.
They all felt the same. Finn rose from the stones stiffly, fingering the sword at his waist. Yoshimo led them down a passage, keeping out of sight of the street that bordered the quay.
"They have left two guards on deck," he told them.
"They might raise the alarm before we can get to them," Finn remarked.
"They will not," Yoshimo assured him.
They came at last to the end of the alley. Beyond them, across a broad street, a ship towered up in the night. Her sails were down and no lanterns were lit on board. She seemed to be a ghost ship.
Yoshimo made a silent gesture, instructing them to stay where they were. No gangplank led to the quay, and Finn wondered for a moment what he intended to do.
Quick as a cat Yoshimo crossed the broad street, and seized hold of one of the mooring ropes that held the ship fast. With all the nimbleness of a circus acrobat Yoshimo shimmied up the rope, and slipped on board.
"The man is a thief," Hendak said under his breath, though there was a hint of admiration in his words.
They all waited in silence. It seemed like an age, though in reality only a few minutes passed before unseen hands began to lower the gangplank from the ship. Yoshimo stood on board, waving to them.
...
Swiftly they all hurried onto the ship. Lying face down on the deck was the remains of a guard, blood from his slit neck staining the boards in the moonlight. Where the other was Finn didn't know, but Yoshimo must have seen to his fate as well.
"How many more guards have they?" Rulf asked.
"I do not know. I have not the time to go below deck," Yoshimo answered.
"They will not have many," Hendak assured him. "All their hands they will need to manage the prisoners. Few will be left on board. Now, let us find what we seek."
He went to a hatch and swiftly drew it open. A block of lantern light slipped out, illuminating for a moment his hungry face. It looked bright and eager as he scented blood. Hendak dropped down below, and the others followed him.
He didn't have long to feed his appetite. As soon as the barbarians appeared a cry echoed below the deck.
"Looks like you were wrong, mate!" Finn cried out.
It seemed they were expected. On either side of them armed men sprang to life. A series of loud clicks issued forth, and they found themselves caught right in the middle of an ambush.
Finn barely had time to shout before feeling the quarrels bite deep into his flesh. One caught his left arm, and another hit him clean in the side. Finn felt searing hot pain, but he knew somehow the blow wasn't fatal. Rulf didn't fare as well. A shaft struck him right in the neck, and down he went. Yoshimo managed somehow to dodge out of the way, that eternal luck of his still intact.
The others were blooded but still standing, and they weren't about to give the men a chance at firing a second round. They let into the poor devils with all that ferocity of the fighting pits, and it wasn't long before the guards joined Rulf on the floor.
"One more reason to cause you pain, Lehtinan," Hendak said, reaching down to close the man's eyes. "Go free, my friend. May your spirit ride the great wind."
"Where is he, then?" Krev asked.
The barbarian tore a quarrel from his shoulder with little a thought.
"The captain's quarters," Hendak answered.
He gestured down the long passage towards the rear of the ship. Finn freshened his grip on his blade, twitching himself from his wounds.
"He'll be waiting," he said.
"No doubt. Come then, my friends. Let us find the villain."
No more guards awaited them. Hendak went swiftly to the door at the end. But rather than burst inside, surprisingly he knocked.
"Open up, dog!" he cried through the wood. "Your doom is here!"
Finn didn't expect an answer. But more surprisingly still, that familiar creepy voice sounded from within.
"Come and find me, then, animal!"
Hendak turned to Finn with a little smile on his face.
"We are summoned."
Without further ado, the barbarian turned the iron ring. But something was wrong. Even Finn could see the door had a strange degree of tension on it.
"I would not…" Yoshimo began.
...
"Wait!" Finn cried, but it was too late. Hendak swung wide the door, and a single snap issued from within. A quarrel fired out like a lightning streak, the crossbow rigged up by a tripwire from the door.
For just one moment, everything seemed frozen. Inside the room Finn could see Lehtinan, his vile face red in his fear. Two guards flanked him, ready to defend their master. But all Finn really saw was the quarrel sticking out of Hendak's chest.
"You," Lehtinan hissed. "So you have tracked me this far. But you are dead, then. You will die, too."
But Hendak didn't fall. He looked down, slowly, examining the shaft sticking from his breast.
"Do you think so?" he said, his voice cold and even. "You should know. You gave me my name. I am the Death-Bringer. And now…"
He raised that black axe up over his head. Finn didn't really know what was going on at that point. The guards were dealt with easily enough. Hendak pounced on Lehtinan with the ferocity of a lion, yanking his weapon away from him as if he were a child.
In desperation Lehtinan seized that quarrel shaft still sticking impossibly from the man's chest. He pulled it hard, driving it in deeper, tearing at it to drag it out. But Hendak hardly seemed to notice. He was kept alive by hate.
"Finish him! Finish him!" Inga screamed, her own sword bloody in her pale hands.
"He is…finished…" Hendak growled.
He threw Lehtinan off him, the smaller, weaker man crumbling into a pile at his feet.
"No, no you bastard! I won't let you… May the gods damn your soul!" he seethed.
"They already have," Hendak replied.
How in the hells was he even still standing? Finn thought to himself. The wolf-man had a queer little smile on his face, like one about to relish a good meal.
"You going to kill him, or what?" Finn asked, nervously.
He didn't know why he was nervous. Something…he could feel something. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. He wanted out of that room. Kill the son of a bitch and be done with it. But Hendak merely held up a hand.
"There is…oil on board, is there not?" he asked, his voice rasping.
"Lamp oil…must be barrels of the stuff," Finn remarked. "Why?"
"Do not ask. Leave us now, my brother. Your work is done. Go, my friends, and taste your hard-fought freedom. It will be sweet…"
Blood was trickling down his chest, staining his armour in red. His hands were red where he touched the wound. Red on the shaft of his axe. Red on Lehtinan. The man lay where he was, crumpled like a wounded insect.
"No, you… Don't leave me with this madman!" he cried, a foolish and vain plea to the barbarians. "I will set you free myself, give you any gold you wish…anything! Do not…"
"Die with dignity, at least," Inga told him. "The gods may damn you, Hendak, but I bless you. For freedom!"
With that she turned away, heading back on deck without another word. Krev paused long enough to spit on the cowering Lehtinan, but he too followed his leader's command.
"What the hells are you going to do here?" Finn repeated.
"Save me from him!" Lehtinan demanded, but he received little more than a kick from Hendak.
"Come now, friend," Yoshimo said, laying a hand on Finn's shoulder. "I have no doubt this scoundrel will get what he deserves. Perhaps it is best if we are away from here."
...
Finn didn't know what to think, but he didn't feel like he could argue somehow. He left Hendak and Lehtinan behind them, following Yoshimo back onto dry land. The two barbarians were waiting.
They hurried though the nearly deserted streets, up the hill that led out of the docks. Finn's mind was in a fog, but something made him stop. A noise was bothering his ears like an insect. He realised at last it was a bell. He turned and a light stabbed his eyes. The Lover's Revenge was fully ablaze, burning like a giant candle in the night.
All around them people were pouring out of taverns and houses, drawn like moths to the light of the burning ship. But Finn, Yoshimo and the barbarians only stood and stared. The light of the fire flickered on the water, giving the inferno a strange and unholy aura.
The barbarians said nothing, their eyes level and calm as they watched the ship burn, taking their leader with it. Finn turned to Yoshimo, but he only shook his head.
"Nothing to be done now, my friend. Let us go."
But Finn couldn't move. He stood, trying somehow to imagine Hendak consumed by those awful flames, but he couldn't. There was something in the way.
He shut his eyes, trying to feel. Trying to find… But then he heard something. A voice at his side, quiet and uncertain.
"Finn?"
He opened his eyes to see Anna.
She looked up at him, almost unsure herself. The light of the flames flickered off her pale face, making her look ghostly as the burning ship. Finn reached out, afraid, and touched her shoulder. But she was warm. She was real. The firelight reflected in the tears that flowed down her face. Finn seized her with all his strength.