Chapter 30: Open Conflict
Haer'Dalis, who had just finished discussing his latest plans for 'Emoro and Lijuet' with the playwright, had headed towards the buffet just in time to see Harrian set off across the room. Thinking little of it, the tiefling had helped himself to some caviar – always fond of taking advantage of a bit of luxury as he was – before joining Minsc.
"So, what is our raven up to now?" he asked the giant ranger idly, more amused than concerned about anything. At least, until he turned to follow the thief with his eyes and saw him pull Jaheira towards the side of the room.
He gaped for a moment, wondering if Harrian could be as stupid as he appeared. Finally, he realised he had to believe his eyes. "That man seems intent on pulling us into the abyss on the whim of his heart!"
Fortunately, Jaheira was having none of this. She came to an abrupt halt, yanking her hand from his. "Are you insane?" she hissed, staring at him for a long moment. "Duchinov seems all set to show me this damned scroll, and you are having concerns?"
Harrian paused, realising he didn't have a decent answer to this accusation, and slowly realisation of how stupid he was being set in. Fortunately, it seemed to be written all over his face, for Jaheira then relented a very little.
"This is almost over," she reassured him in a whisper. "The scroll shall be ours soon. Try not to fret a while longer." The internal conflict they both seemed to be suffering from had encouraged her to be a little more sympathetic, for the moment. It also minimised the chance of them starting a scene in the middle of the ball.
Harrian nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. Over her shoulder he noticed Duchinov emerge from the door and start in their direction. "Here he comes," he murmured to her, before giving a half-bow to try and continue with the conviction that he seemed more lackey than nobleman and hurrying off.
He was intercepted by Anomen, who had just managed to shake of Roenall before expiring from boredom. "That was… not a part of the plan," the cleric said quietly, his brow furrowed as they watched Duchinov and Jaheira.
"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" Harrian continued, grimacing.
Anomen looked at him a moment, before opening his mouth to give some reassurance, but found none could be said convincingly. He shrugged. "Yes," the squire decided finally, nodding firmly.
Duchinov, who had watched as Harrian disappeared in the crowd, turned to Jaheira. "Any problems, my lady?" he asked her lightly. "Your servant seemed a little… ahem, agitated," he continued, frowning.
She shook her head dismissively. "There was just some debate on the matter of the coach. Anomen appears to have developed a slight headache, but has decided that walking home will clear his head, leaving the coach for the rest of the party." Jaheira had managed early on to establish herself as a mere friend of Anomen's sister, and not in any way involved with the cleric, whom she had managed to speak of with distaste.
Duchinov nodded. "A headache? No surprise, after talking to Isea," he chuckled, then smiled at her. "But come. You expressed an interest in some of the artefacts in my collection?" he asked brightly.
She nodded, trying not to sound or appear too eager. "Magical relics have always held quite an interest for me," she lied. Jaheira had limited interest in them – she had simply picked up a suitable amount of information from far too much travelling.
Duchinov raised an eyebrow. "Aye? Intriguing, for 'tis quite a dangerous interest to have, considering how the Cowled Wizards view things," he pointed out as she took her arm, and he steered her towards the door he had returned through.
"You seem to be managing it quite well, my lord," Jaheira responded smoothly, smiling a smile as broad and fake as she could muster. "So tell me… what items of interest do you have to show me?" she continued, still feigning interest.
Truth be told, she had little against Duchinov as a man. He seemed a pleasant enough man – he had the arrogance of all nobles, but to a far lesser extent than many of those she had seen this night. His failing seemed to be his lack of regard for others and complete ruthlessness when it came to moving himself forwards.
The count pushed the door open. "Permit me to simply surprise you," he assured her as they entered a cool corridor, dark in comparison to how the ballroom had been. "My latest acquirement is bound to be of interest to a connoisseur such as yourself, Lady Jaheira."
"You have my utmost attention," she reassured him as he pushed the door open to allow them into a large room, most beautifully and delicately adorned with rugs, wall carpets, and some of the most interesting decorations littered around the room.
Duchinov smiled, and closed the door behind them. "I shall start with the best, of course," he assured her, crossing the room and heading towards a small desk at the side of a wall. As she watched, he pulled a key from his person and unlocked one of the drawers in the desk.
He pulled the drawer open, and from it withdrew a scroll, still bound neatly. "This is the prize of all my possessions," he told her proudly as she stepped up beside him to see it. "Something the Cowled Wizards themselves could not make head or tails of, but which my own mages have already translated half of which."
Jaheira guessed correctly that this was the scroll they were searching for. She leant over to peer at it, wondering what to do next. "And what is this, exactly?" she asked brightly, looking at Duchinov.
"A scroll of immense power!" the count declared brightly. "When all of its capability is unleashed, I foresee whoever wielding this power to be unstoppable in Amn!" He subsided a little. "Provided my mages are correct, of course."
But Jaheira was barely listening. Her gaze was stuck at point over Duchinov's shoulder. For, at the far wall, almost half of it consisted of full-length windows, offering a view of the gardens behind Duchinov's estate. And she could see Harrian's head poking around the side, watching them.
The count noticed her gaze wander, and frowned. "Is there someone out there?" he asked, a little concerned at how his secret could be slipping into public knowledge, and started to turn around.
Jaheira, panicking a little, made a snap decision. They knew where the scroll was; now she would have to distract Duchinov whilst the others got it. And, in the more pressing present, stop him from investigating outside and finding Harrian and whoever was with him.
She grabbed him by the lapels of his suit and pulled him into a kiss. It was not her preferred choice of action, but a few brief seconds of discomfort were worth keeping this quest on its feet and the party out of jail.
Opening her eyes, she saw Harrian grimace, then nod and duck out of sight. She pulled away from Duchinov, silently cursing this situation she had got herself into, but did a good job of not displaying it.
She ran a finger along his jaw-line. "So tell me," Jaheira murmured, as seductively as she could manage without sounding as disgusted with him and herself as she felt. "What does this scroll do?"
Duchinov was wearing a slight smile, one of someone who had a few good ideas and intended to implement them. "Maybe we discuss this later, hmm?" he asked lightly, before pulling her into another kiss before she could prevent him.
She felt herself get backed into a wall, Duchinov's lips still firmly locked on her own, his hands twitching as if they wanted to go places she really didn't want them to. Taken aback, it took her mind a few seconds before she could start to decide what to do. She might have agreed to get Duchinov to lead her to the scroll, but as far as she was concerned, she wasn't going to go any further than that. But at the same time, blowing cover could be disastrous.
Jaheira was saved from making a decision as the shattering of glass was heard, and the count was yanked away from her by a furious Harrian, who had wasted no time in intervening upon seeing what was happening.
Corias had suddenly flown into a blind rage which he hadn't felt since fighting the cambion in Irenicus's dungeon. He tightened his grip on the count and slammed him against the wall, feeling his heart racing. "You will keep your filthy hands off her!" he bellowed, punctuating his words with more slams against the wall.
Kill him!
The voice, deep, dark, and dangerous, was one he hadn't heard for a while, one he had suppressed ever since first hearing it on the night of Gorion's death, when it had told him to turn and fight, to not run. He had not known what it was then, but did now; he knew full well what it was, and refused to give into it.
He was not going to give into the taint of his soul, to his Bhaal essence.
Kill him! The voice repeated.
Instead, he decided to pummel Duchinov into unconsciousness.
Anomen was the first to reach him and drag him off the count, who had already blacked out. "Harrian! Harrian, we've got the scroll. We have to go!" he yelled at him, hoping he'd get through to the furious thief.
Corias subsided as he felt Delryn's gauntleted hand on his shoulder, and he shuddered briefly as the dark voice faded. He looked blankly at Anomen. "We have it?" he murmured vacantly.
He looked around. Yoshimo was already slipping the scroll into his jacket, Minsc and Haer'Dalis was keeping a lookout through the window he had broken, and Jaheira was in the process of ripping her dress to make it short enough so that she didn't trip over it. He didn't meet her eye.
There was a thump from the door, and a deep voice called out, "Count Duchinov? Are you alright in there?"
It sounded like the guard, and it seemed as if they were fortunate enough for Duchinov to have locked the door when he and Jaheira had arrived there. Harrian, gathering his wits about him a little more, turned to the others. "We go now."