Chapter 35

Lord Vakadi

After getting out of the palace, Theros led them around the back to the stable. They each picked out a horse and walked their mounts through the substantial garden of climbing vines and blooms that overlooked the ocean. At the end of the garden was the head of the horse trail. Jarlaxle could see it criss-crossing down the layers of the cliff.

Close to the water's edge there was an area of wildflowers growing along a vista, and then a long strip of beach.

"That's right," Theros said, seeing where Jarlaxle was looking. "That's where we're going." He climbed into the saddle easily. "The trail should take between half an hour and forty-five minutes, depending on how much we linger."

Entreri figured Jarlaxle would enjoy this, if nothing else. He mounted his horse in one graceful motion.

Jarlaxle hopped up onto his horse with a grin. He couldn't restrain his enthusiasm. "Let's go."

Theros nodded and led the way, going slowly at first. The trail was narrow enough to make them form a single file line, sloping down through many switchbacks, but not steep enough to endanger the horses. Jarlaxle noticed they had an interesting view of Sheirtalar from this vantage point.

Once the trail leveled out two hundred feet above the sea, Theros nudged his pale horse into a canter. Seagulls soared overhead and let out raucous cries, and the roar of th ocean was stronger. The tide was going out, leaving behind a strong seaweed smell.

"I come out here to think sometimes," Theros called behind him.

Entreri could see why. The ocean had a unique effect on him that he rarely let himself consider, and certainly one could be alone here.

Theros slowed down and stopped at the vista where the wildflowers grew. He walked his horse out into the flowers and dismounted, keeping a hand on the reins casually. Theros took a deep breath and gazed out at the sea. As always, ships were coming and going. There were small fishing boats with finned looking sails, larger, stouter merchant vessels, and long, sleek military ships.

When Jarlaxle and Artemis joined him, he murmured, "Once you start working for a paranoiac like Vakadi, breaks are kind of out of the question, so I just imagine being on one of those ships. It helps for a while."

Jarlaxle gathered Theros had been a fixture in Lord Vakadi's palace defenses for a long time. At least, a long time for a human.

Theros glanced at them, calm and faintly smiling. "Just a warning. You can always refuse the promotion and go somewhere else. Not everyone can survive being on the short string of some crazy merchant lord."

Entreri had the feeling like he would end up killing Vakadi even if he hadn't been hired to do so. Being on a short string was not his style, needless to say. "How short is short?"

Theros snorted. "Well, he likes everyone who works on the third floor to live in the palace, and he doesn't take no for an answer unless you refuse the job. You're expected to do the same shift seven days a tenday and to be on hand if there's an emergency. Oh, you're allowed to leave to go to town, but it's best if you say where you're going, or he'll have you followed." His lips twitched. "And any lady friends are naturally assumed to be spies."

"And you survived this how?" Jarlaxle asked.

Theros laughed. "By being boring."

He gestured out at the glistening waves. "And by being here. People generally know this is my beach, so they don't bother me unless necessary." Then he glanced at them. "Of course, you're welcome to join me from now on. If you can stand the job. Lord Vakadi is also generous in his compensation, and he is not unaware of our need to amuse ourselves. He installed an archery range for one of his other senior guards."

"Short," Entreri summarized.

Theros laughed.

"I didn't leave Menzoberranzan to be someone's pet," Jarlaxle said dryly.

After a moment, the captain got his fill of the scenary and mounted his horse again. "It's not for everybody. Lord Vakadi is the best fit for those who have nowhere else to go." He nudged his horse back onto the trail and headed for the beach, which was a straight shot.

And you had nowhere else to go? Jarlaxle let Artemis go ahead of him and followed them both down the path to the beach. The question in Jarlaxle's mind was why Theros had nowhere else to go. The man was reasonably talented, likeable, and seemed adaptable.

Entreri was wondering much the same, especially since the man would seem to be much happier on a ship.

Jarlaxle added Theros' statements together and roughed out a picture of the man's life. He'd grown up in Ormpur, joined the navy, left because of corruption – perhaps with a bad name for standing up against it? - and wandered to Sheirtalar, where Lord Vakadi gave him what seemed like a good job offer. Then, somehow, that turned into slavery.

Theros let his horse gallop across the silvery sand. There was a long stretch to cover, perfect for the horses to get out their energy, and then a sloping path winding back up around the cliffs to the other side of Vakadi's property. A small vineyard lay at the top. Theros appeared to enjoy letting the horse gallop across the beach, and the trip back up the cliffs was spent in smiling silence.

At the top of the cliffs, Theros slowed down, taking a meandering path through the vineyard. "Beautiful, isn't it? Lord Vakadi is so paranoid he won't even drink any wine from the outside. It's all grown and manufactured here. That building you see in the distance is the home and winery of Vakadi's personal vintner."

It was a two story building of gray and white stone, with a rustic tiled roof.

Entreri snorted. Not that he couldn't understand that level of paranoia, because he actually could. No, it was simply seeing it with his own two eyes that amused him.

Jarlaxle, on the other hand, was enchanted. He'd never imagined having his own personal wine maker and vineyard. Now that the idea was planted, he could envision taking over the basics of Vakadi's operation for himself and Artemis. This was an attractive estate, and Sheirtalar was not at all unpleasant to be in. He was certain the city had its seedy side and its problems - the power struggles of the Church of Waukeen in evidence - but the city also had its comfortable points. Like not being too far from Calimshan, and having a well-established culture of merchantile values and politeness.

If there were only himself to consider, he would settle down here, at least for a while.

"Charming," Entreri said. "Although I assume he still has food tasters or the magical equivalent."

Theros nodded. "On the few occasions I have dined with him, he always has a food taster, a wizard, and a cleric on hand."

"What is that meal like?" Jarlaxle asked wryly.

Theros snorted with amusement. "Tense."

Entreri snorted again. "So he fights so hard to live that he doesn't have a life." It was much the same way Dondon had not had a life. In this moment, though, Entreri wondered if he had, in fact, worked so hard to survive that he hadn't actually lived.

It was a disturbing concept.

Jarlaxle stayed silent. He thought he heard a revelation in there.

"Basically," Theros said.

Entreri made a noncommittal noise by way of reply.

They reached the north entrance of the palace, opposite of the one they usually used. The guards outside motioned to them. Theros slowed his horse. "Yes?"

"A message for you," the guard with the spear said. "You've been summoned to the third floor. Them, too." He indicated Entreri and Jarlaxle.

"We'll return the horses and be in," Theros said.

"The viewing room," the soldier said meaningfully.

Theros nodded. "Got it." He took off again, nudging his horse into a gallop and expecting Artemis and Jarlaxle to follow.

Entreri knew something was up, and there really only seemed to be two choices: promotion or impending doom. He'd handle whichever it was. He urged his horse into a gallop as well, following.

Jarlaxle did the same.

They dismounted at the stables and handed the horses over to the men working there. Theros led the way down the path back around the side of the palace. "You've been promoted."

"How do you know?" Jarlaxle asked.

"The guards would have issued the code meaning that we were to seize you if it had been otherwise," Theros said dryly.

Jarlaxle was glad that had not come to pass.

Entreri decided the guards were lucky that had not come to pass.

Theros chuckled at their reaction. "Lord Vakadi wants to see you. The viewing room is the farthest place he ventures these days. It's a comfortable sitting area packed with defenses I can only imagine. He sits in a certain chair, and he has his guards behind him on either side. With some of his associates, also his wizard. Not the guy you met earlier. He's some part-time hire, like I said. His favorite wizard is Isomeslas Caloppi; he's a native of Sammarash, the southernmost city state."

"What does that mean?" Jarlaxle asked.

Theros glanced at him. "Sammarash is home to many wizards and have their own unique art. They usually have long, light brown hair and olive skin, which they cover in dark brown tribal tattooes."

Entreri just shrugged. Given the non-life Vakadi was living, he'd almost decided he'd be doing him a favor by killing him.

When they reached the door, the guards on the outside opened it and handed them over to the guards on the inside. This time they were all frisked, and their weapons secured with peace knots.

Jarlaxle looked to Theros incredulously.

"It's the process for seeing Lord Vakadi," Theros said calmly. "You notice they make no exceptions."

Entreri wasn't particularly surprised, given the level of the man's paranoia.

They were handed off to escort after escort throughout the building, all the way up to the third floor. That was when they were left to themselves.

Theros guided them through the halls. When they reached a narrow hallway marked with a potted palm tree on either side of the entrance, Theros said, "This is it. The hallway to Vakadi's quarters. Right now it's unguarded because the men who stood here are in the dungeon."

Jarlaxle got the picture.

"So, expect another round of frisking when we get to the viewing room," Theros said.

Jarlaxle thought about making a comment about the Menzoberranzan version of frisking, but he didn't.

"But of course," Entreri murmured.

Theros nodded and led the way. "The door at the end is as far as we go. The room on the other side is the viewing room." He opened the door and allowed them to enter first.

Jarlaxle got a glimpse of the splendor of this room before four guards met them and politely checked out their lethality.

The door was closed, and the guards parted, leaving Jarlaxle with a full view. The room was large and deep, going back quite a ways and featuring a fountain bubbling out pink liquid that smelled like some fruity drink. Potted palms and low, comfortable chairs were all around, and the walls were dotted with bookcases holding interesting knick knacks and marble busts of people Jarlaxle was unfamiliar with.

Vakadi sat in an ornately carved chair made out of dark wood. In addition to the door guards there were four guards around him, a cleric of Waukeen - identified by the garb - and a wizard who matched the description of Isomeslas.

Jarlaxle noted that the man was older than he'd expected, and bore obvious signs of not sleeping well: dark pouches under the eyes, worry wrinkles, slight pallor.

Theros walked up to the small round table in front of Vakadi and stopped, bowing deeply. "My lord, may I present Khoya Ali Qasim and Master Nafein."

"Welcome," Vakadi said. His voice was of middle timbre, as dry as seasoned firewood. "Excuse me for not standing up." He gestured with one hand. Every finger bore a ring with a thick band. "Please, sit. If you would like some ambrosia from the fountain, someone will get it for you."

Entreri bowed as well, following Theros' example, and settled on a low chair. The smell of the ambrosia did not appeal to him at all.

Jarlaxle bowed at the same time and chose the chair nearest Artemis'. Even though he knew it would be ill-considered, the thought did cross his mind to grab supplies out of his hat and try to get the job over with now.

Theros remained standing, as though that was expected of him.

Vakadi silently waved him over, and Theros joined the guards by Vakadi's chair.

"What is ambrosia?" Jarlaxle asked.

"It is a mix of fruit juices and champagne in this case, though recipes vary," Vakadi said.

"Would you like some ambrosia yourself, my lord?" Theros murmured.

"It no longer pleases me." Vakadi let out a faint sigh. "However, it may still interest the guests."

Theros nodded respectfully.

The way Theros offered to wait on Lord Vakadi was obsequious in comparison to Theros' usual manner. It turned Jarlaxle's stomach. He is without doubt a slave. But why? How?

"The wizard I hired to sort out my traitors tells me that you are trustworthy," Vakadi said without any more preamble. His dark eyes were sharp, but Jarlaxle thought that with rest they would probably be sharper.

He's the man who tried to rape Vilok Amra's wife, Jarlaxle thought unexpectedly. That conversation in Vilok Amra's garden seemed a long time ago.

What a pathetic bastard, Entreri decided. I definitely would be doing him a favor by putting him out of his misery.

Then he realized he was the one who was supposed to be talking. "It is unfortunate that it came to that for you," he said, dodging a direct reply. "However, one supposes it is not surprising."

Vakadi chuckled. "You are the first person to tell me it is not surprising."

Theros grimaced ruefully.

"I like you," Vakadi declared, visibly startling Theros. "You do not pity me."

Jarlaxle almost fell out of his chair. He had pegged Vakadi as a self-pitying, sympathy-hoarding narcissist.

"I am not given to pity," Entreri said, opting for the blunt approach. "I have no use for it in my line of work. My job is to kill killers. Compassion, mercy, and pity are a hindrance to a man such as myself."

Vakadi nodded approvingly. "Well spoken." He paused, taking stock of Entreri and Jarlaxle. "What are your needs? I have substantial power, even if it cannot help me out of my ultimate dilemma, and I wish to put that power to work for my new allies. You cannot be expected to give up your habitual freedom for nothing."

Jarlaxle didn't think he could be bribed to give up his freedom, period, but he finally understood why Vakadi was able to convince someone such as Theros to stay. Provided Theros had been desperate for some reason. And the captain obviously had been.

Entreri didn't think there was anything in all Faerun, or all the realms for that matter, that could induce him to give up his freedom. In fact, he supposed the two things he'd really wanted out of life were freedom and friendship. "I'm not sure I can answer that question in advance," he said honestly. "I will have to see how my life changes once I have been here a few tendays; then I will better know what needs of mine are not being met. As for accommodations, however, we prefer a single room with a private bath, if that can be arranged."

"Easily," Vakadi said. His gaze flicked to Jarlaxle, but Jarlaxle said nothing. "Whatever you wish will be accommodated."

Jarlaxle doubted Vakadi would be saying that once they were locked in a life or death struggle.

"No scrying," Jarlaxle said flatly.

Vakadi raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Indeed. No scrying. I have no need of such things. The halls are monitored."

Jarlaxle was relieved that the man appeared to be telling the truth. He wanted to be able to fall out of the role of Nafein, at least in privacy.

Entreri thought of Theros' trips to the beach. "I tend to need time alone to myself. Outside is preferable. Theros showed us a riding trail earlier; I assume we can make use of such places when we need space."

Vakadi nodded. "I will never ask you to stand guard twenty-four hours a day, and since you are the first guards to be replaced, you will choose which three days you prefer not to work."

This sounded more like a normal job interview. Jarlaxle relaxed, provisionally.

Entreri nodded as well. "Essentially speaking, then, we'd like to arrange it so we have week ends off." He paused. Theros had mentioned trips out of town, but he wanted to be sure. "Are we allowed off grounds, such as going to restaurants, taverns, or festivals?"

Vakadi nodded. "All that I ask is that you inform Captain Theros or another member of the guard staff before you leave, and have a tentative destination where you may be reached. This is more for Captain Theros' convenience than mine."

Liar, Jarlaxle decided. But he didn't say anything. He made a mental note to expect someone trying to spy on them as soon as they left the palace grounds.

"Very well." Entreri had never been a high-maintenance man. When he had irritated his pashas, it had merely been because of his penchant for freedom and independence. He'd solved most of that problem by being the very best at what he did, thereby making himself a successful independent contractor. What he did with his independence wasn't flamboyant. He simply needed it the way he needed air, water, food, and sleep.

"Where are we to take our meals normally?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Meals to your liking will be provided for you in the second floor dining room. The second floor is where you will be living from now on," Vakadi said.

"That's where I'd live, except I opted to be more available to my men," Theros said.

"I see," Entreri said. "Very well. Do you wish for us to move in today?"

Vakadi nodded. "That would be preferable. If this poses a significant inconvenience, I can manage until tomorrow morning."

Entreri glanced at Jarlaxle. He didn't see any reason why they couldn't pull it off within the day, but he wouldn't speak for Jarlaxle.

"We don't have that much to move," Jarlaxle said.

Entreri nodded again. "It can be done."

"Excellent." Vakadi glanced at Theros. "I believe I will have a goblet of ambrosia."

Theros bowed and crossed the room silently. He retrieved a gold goblet from a cabinet and filled it from the fountain, then brought it back to Vakadi.

Vakadi delicately accepted it and took a sip. "At your leisure, you may go to the second floor kitchen and draw up a menu for the cooks."

"A menu?" Entreri had no idea what the man meant by that. "We dictate what we will eat?"

Vakadi nodded. "Everyone who lives inside the palace is allowed to order their own separate meals. What use is a cook that does not cook food one enjoys? I may struggle to enjoy myself, but I have not yet given up. Others around me must also be allowed their pleasures."

"Fair enough." Entreri was actually surprised by this, but he wasn't going to complain. In the guilds, you ate whatever was fixed unless you went out and bought your own food.

Jarlaxle thought he understood. Sadavir Vakadi has turned outward. In the midst of his misery, he seeks to allay it in part by seeing others around him being satisfied. That was the opposite of the typical drow response to difficulties, but he had noticed some humans to be opposite. That didn't mean Vakadi was generous; only that the way the man assuaged his pain was different.

In some cases, drow females did pamper pets, usually spiders or lizards, and this did seem to give them happiness. But, there came the pet analogy again. Jarlaxle would not be sorry to see Vakadi dead.

"I doubt your cooks know drow food," he said.

"They could learn," Vakadi countered.

I won't be here that long. Jarlaxle scowled. "A human? Learn to cook drow food?" He glanced away.

"With drow ingredients, no less," Vakadi said. "If that will satisfy you, Master Nafein. Yes."

Jarlaxle allowed himself a small smile. "I don't know if it would satisfy me, but I'd like to see your cooks try without recoiling in disgust."

Entreri didn't react, but he wondered at Jarlaxle's bluff. When he'd undergone his forced stay in Menzoberranzan, he'd been served a great deal of beef, cheese, and mushrooms, which were perfectly normal foods.

Vakadi laughed. "My cooks are perfectly capable of providing a drow with food without taking it personally."

Jarlaxle shrugged. "Actually, I prefer human food. I just wanted to know how you put up with someone like me."

"I see." Vakadi studied him for a moment, smirking. "You are not at all difficult compared to some."

Jarlaxle didn't ask who. He had the information he needed. As long as everything was basically going Vakadi's way, small resistances failed to anger the man. He would not be in danger merely for continuing to play the part of Nafein.

Vakadi sighed. "I am reluctant to cut this meeting short, but I am afraid I am tired, and when I am tired, I stop being a good host." He rose. "Captain Theros: please show these men out. You are aware of which rooms on the second floor are empty. Give them a tour."

Theros bowed. "Yes, my lord."

It irritated Entreri to see Theros bowing and scraping to this man. However, he rose as his host did, making sure to follow polite etiquette.

Jarlaxle followed suit.

They all exchanged bows, and then Theros led them out while Vakadi and his entourage went the other way. As soon as they had passed through the scanning field on their way to the second floor, Theros let out his breath. "The man has more mood swings than a Halruuan prostitute."

"I haven't heard about Halruuan prostitutes," Jarlaxle said.

"They're famous for spurning their customers," Theros said dryly. "After they've been paid. A prostitute in Halruaa is still a lady, and won't allow anyone to forget it."

Entreri found that to be vaguely brain breaking, although he didn't comment. "So if I'd met him an hour ago, my bluntness may have been offensive."

Theros nodded, seeming relieved and weary that Artemis understood. "That's about right." He pointed to the ceiling. "There's a man who doesn't know what he wants." The captain lowered his hand. "Except to live, of course."

Jarlaxle had noticed; first Vakadi claimed to be tired of ambrosia, then he had prevailed upon Theros to fetch him a cup of it.

"You managed to catch him when he was tired of sycophants," Theros said.

"Lucky me," Entreri murmured.

Theros grinned. "I admit, you seem to be a lucky man, Khoya Qasim."

They reached the second floor, and Theros navigated through the silent hallways, guiding them towards the south end of the palace. "The south wing is where high ranking guards stay. The north wing is for guests. Not that Vakadi has many now that he's shut himself away."

Entreri glanced around the area and decided he was glad his tenure here would be short. Probably it was his sense of the lack of freedom, but the place inherently turned him off.

Jarlaxle was tense as well, though he didn't let that transfer into his body language or expression. Walking into the depths of this palace felt somehow like walking back into Menzoberranzan.

It was a sharp contrast to the beauty of Theros' beach.

"Most of the rooms have private bathrooms," Theros said, seeming oblivious to the atmosphere. "It's something of a Sheirtalar tradition. In Ormpur, for instance, all baths are public and rooms inside of houses are built with only a toilet and a sink. To bathe, one must venture out to the baths. Every neighborhood has one."

"I have seen similar setups," Entreri said, "although I prefer private baths."

Theros nodded.

They picked out a large room with a blue and white decor. It had two full size beds with posts and drapes, a corner of the room devoted to a soft chair and a dressing room table with a mirror, and a large private bath attached. The bathing area was large and deep enough to take a small swim in.

Once that was settled, they departed from the palace to retrieve their belongings - and their horses - from the inn.