Chapter 14: Betrayal at Delosar's
"I can see your reasoning for aiming to keep a low profile throughout this meeting," Jaheira said quietly as she and Harrian wandered through the dim streets of the Bridge District. "But you must see that there is safety in numbers. I do nut trust Jeran."
"I don't trust him either," Corias agreed, shrugging. "He is a Cowled Wizard, after all. I have no idea why he'd help us, and I don't have much of an idea of how he'll help us. He's also going to want something in return, and I'm not happy about it." He took a deep breath. "But he's a path to Imoen, and I'm willing to take that risk.
"Besides," he continued, "We're right opposite the temple of Helm, so bringing Anomen is not a good idea. Yoshimo is a local face, and I'm sure he's had dealings with the Shadow Thieves, so he may draw unwanted attention towards us. Haer'Dalis is a tiefling, in Ao's name, and Minsc…"
"Is far too distinctive," Jaheira finished for him, finally seeing his point, however grudgingly. "As opposed to you and me, who are unknown and have very few distinctive features. And we clearly do not look out of place amongst the denizens of this city," she added, frowning a little as they passed some of the scruffier night-time inhabitants of Athkatla.
"Exactly." They passed the rest of the short journey in silence; it was not a long trip from the Five Flagons to Delosar's Inn, and the less they drew attention to themselves, the better. Whatever Mavek had planned, it would be safer the less distinctive they were. He doubted a trap – there was no reasoning behind such a scheme, and besides, why such an elaborate set-up when the Cowled Wizards could apprehend them so simply themselves?
As they approached the Inn, they could see a cloaked figure, whose height and lanky frame gave Harrian the initial guess of him being Mavek. His trained senses listened and watched keenly, but there was no sign of anyone else in the vicinity; no scent of a trap or an ambush.
The mage was not adverse to using magic to enhance his own senses; they were barely five metres away, treading silently, before he turned to face them. Mavek smiled, his bright teeth shining in the darkness most disconcertingly. "You're here. Good. I was starting to worry that you wouldn't turn up."
"Can we cut the pleasantries and just get down to business?" Harrian cut in abruptly. "I want to get this over and done with, before we draw attention to ourselves and anything… unexpected creeps upon us."
"Cynical fellow, aren't you?" Mavek commented brightly, stepping out into the illumination of one of the street lamps. "Have patience, Mr Corias. I'll set things in motion so your Imoen can be retrieved soon enough."
The thief glared at him. "Alright. First things first. How can you help us?"
"I have influence," the mage said vaguely. "It shouldn't be hard to get the Grandmaster of the Cowled Wizards to overlook one unimportant inmate of Spellhold. She was merely a by-product of the entire incident on the Promenade – it was the mage Irenicus who held an interest for everyone. She can be returned, almost entirely legally, and without repercussions from my people."
Harrian folded his arms. "What do you want in return for this?" he asked at last. Despite his often-dangerous tendency to be too trusting with people, he wasn't fool enough to think Mavek would stick to his word.
"Not much," the Cowled Wizard assured him, shrugging. "All we need is –"
Suddenly there was the hum of a bowstring vibrating, and an arrow arched out of the darkness to imbed itself in Mavek's throat. With a gurgle, the mage sank to his knees, Harrian grabbing him before he could keel over entirely.
Corias yanked the arrow out of his throat, and examined the tip. "Poisoned," he hissed, before angrily throwing the mage's dead body away from him. Even with Jaheira's magical healing skills, there was nothing to be done for a fast-acting poison injected in a pivotal spot, especially when accompanied by an arrow in the neck.
Footsteps could be heard from behind them, and Jaheira whirled around, quarterstaff at the ready. Beside her, Harrian leapt to his feet, drawing his longsword, ears and eyes straining for any sign of the attacker.
To men dressed in the distinctive black garb of the Shadow Thieves emerged from the shadows, one aiming a bow at Jaheira, the other bearing a vicious-looking scimitar and eyeing Harrian cautiously.
"The Shadowmaster instructed us not to kill you," the archer said quietly and levelly, his aim not wavering. "But he did tell us to advise you to reconsider your decision of shunning our help. You will need it – there is no other way of rescuing your friend."
His companion raised his weapon threateningly. "But do not think you can go against us," he warned. "Be advised, if you interfere with the operations of the Shadow Thieves, we shall not be in the slightest adverse to killing you." The two started to prowl back, not lowering their weapons. "You have been warned!" he hissed as they disappeared into the darkness.
Harrian stared at where they had been standing for a long moment, before whirling around and setting upon Mavek's body, searching it thoroughly. "Bastards… bastards! They'd kill him, just to get us to go to them? Bastards!" he hissed.
Jaheira tapped the ground with her staff thoughtfully. "It is odd how they are willing to go to such lengths to get you to ask them for their assistance. That they might initially approach you is plausible, but this is far beyond what we have come to expect of the Shadow Thieves."
"I've stopped being surprised by the Shadow Thieves," Harrian declared finally. "Aha! What's this?" he continued, pulling a scrap of paper from one of Mavek's many pockets. "We may have a clue onto the resources and reasons of our dead magus here," he continued, opening it up and reading it.
Jeran,
Meet me at the Graveyard District tomorrow after dark (of course!) and let me know of how the meeting with Corias went. He should be easy to appease – give him what he wants, and he'll be putty in your hands.
~ Bodhi
"What is it?" Jaheira asked at last, still scanning the darkness for any signs of danger. Despite what the two assassins had said, you couldn't trust the Shadow Thieves, and besides… there could be other dangers out in the Bridge District at night.
"A lead," Harrian murmured contemplatively, folding it and placing it in his inside pocket.