Chapter 33: Uneasy Alliance
Late morning of the same day, Anomen had unwillingly taken it upon himself to play leader of the party in Jaheira and Harrian's absence, both sleeping off the intensity of the previous night as they were. He was already regretting it.
Just before turning in, their leader had told him to 'make himself useful and get some jobs done'. Vague as the instruction had been, he had taken it to heart, and thus dragged Minsc and Haer'Dalis – Yoshimo was still out, somewhere, and nobody had deigned him important enough to know where or why – out to find and pay Tellis, and to get some new equipment.
The Adventure Mart had been sporting some exceedingly rare elven chain mail, perfect for Haer'Dalis's use, and Anomen had amazed himself by having been able to get them a great discount on it by threatening to tell the authorities just how Ribald got his hands on such rare items. It had mostly been bluff, but Barterman, although roguish and seemingly carefree, was not fool enough to bring the guard down upon himself.
The surplus had bought Minsc a new helmet to replace the battered lump of metal he seemed to have been sporting ever since they'd escaped Irenicus's lair. Although their prizes were small and the time they'd spent out short, Anomen had been run ragged by the tiefling and the Rasheman. On return to the Five Flagons, he had merely tossed a handful of coins to Thunderburp to constitute another week's rent, and collapsed in an armchair.
He was still there when Harrian finally descended, washed and rested and far neater than he had been when the squire had previously seen him. Corias approached him, in a better mood than before, and took the seat opposite him. "You're looking tired, my friend. Hard morning?"
Anomen resisted the urge to make a sarcastic retort, too weary as he was to make the effort anyway. "I must ask how you keep this menagerie of a band you have cobbled together in line, Harrian. They are as uncontrollable as the wildest of beasts."
The thief shrugged. "They don't seem to give me any trouble. Well… much," he conceded.
"Bastards," Anomen muttered, realising how the antics – clearly Haer'Dalis's mostly, for Minsc was of too easy a nature to go out of his way to aggravate someone – had been put on merely for his irritation.
"Jaheira come down yet?" Harrian asked quietly, not meeting the cleric's gaze, and Anomen smiled a little in sympathy at his friend's discomfort. "I have an apology – or ten – to make to her."
"For leaping valiantly to her rescue, yes. I can see how that was rude," Delryn mused, then raised his hands submissively as Corias looked sharply at him. "No, no… do not enlighten me, I wish not involve myself in this palaver…"
"Smart man," Harrian muttered under his breath. Behind Anomen, the door to the Five Flagons swung open, and Yoshimo stepped in, accompanied by a man in a red cloak. Corias gaped at them for a moment. "Gods, he didn't…"
"Didn't what?" Anomen asked blankly as Harrian leapt to his feet and rushed over. The squire looked around perplexedly for a moment before also standing and hurrying over, tired but intent on not being kept out of the loop once more.
"Yoshimo! When we told you to get us a mage, we wanted a good one we could trust, not… not…" Harrian stopped, stuttering for a moment as he collected the words necessary that could describe the man standing before them.
Edwin Odesseiron lowered his hood and smiled humourlessly at them. "I assure you, fools, that my skills are far beyond your exceedingly limited comprehension. As for trusting… despite your moronic display of proof a year ago that you think otherwise, there are precious few people in this world you can trust. Just be thankful I am lowering myself to work with people of your level (and it is a very long way down)."
"You know, I really hate it when you talk to yourself," Harrian muttered, but more sulkily than with any particular venom. "And as for lowering yourself… well, I bet you were falling over with excitement the moment Yoshimo mentioned what we had for you. If you weren't fighting the other mages to take a look at this, then I'll be damned."
Just then, there was a bellow from behind them, and a slightly pained yet weary look crossed Harrian's face. "Enemy of Dynaheir!" Minsc strode, livid, towards them, fists clenched like giant boulders. His face sank as he worked out what was going on. "Harrian! Do not say we will be working with…"
"I'm sorry Minsc, but I have a feeling that it's necessary," Corias said darkly, still glaring at Edwin in a most evil way, Yoshimo, Anomen and Haer'Dalis feeling particularly confused about the whole matter.
"Necessary it is, simians," Edwin assured them haughtily. "For Yoshimo here has explained how you are on a quest to rescue that worthless wench, Imoen, and I do not believe you will be able to proceed without my help (though how you have progressed this far on your own eludes me)." Odesseiron glanced over at Minsc. "And you, ape? I see you have your pet rat, but where is that pathetic witch you seem so fond of?"
"You will not insult the memory of sweet Dynaheir like that!" the Rasheman declared angrily, raising his hamster. "Go for the eyes, Boo, go for the –"
"Minsc!" Harrian barked, getting increasingly irritated with both of them. "I know just how you feel, but we're going to have to put that behind us." The berserker warrior looked doubtful. "For Imoen's sake?" he tried, and the ranger subsided unhappily.
"So my enemy has managed to get herself killed after all," Edwin declared happily. "I knew it would only be a matter of time." He was clearly emboldened by Harrian's rebuking of Minsc. "I see you have acquired a new assortment of trained animals to perform for you."
Anomen's eyes narrowed. "I know not who you are, wizard, and nor do I want to, but I must say I care very little for your tone," he said warningly. "Magic-users such as yourself are more trouble than they are worth, and did we not need you, I would not hesitate to report you to the authorities."
"Yes, but you do need me, so cut your whinging, wretch," Edwin drawled, then looked around slowly. "You seem to still be missing some of your numbers," he observed coolly. "Where is that interfering Harper and the whining husband of hers?"
Harrian glared, but was stopped from making a cutting retort by Jaheira's sudden appearance at his side. "I assure you, I am still here and in one piece. You will not concern yourself with the others, Thayvian."
Despite her well-timed and defensive arrival – how people kept on managing to sneak up on him, he would never know – it seemed to Harrian as if she was giving him the cold shoulder, even without throwing him a single look. Ah, he was getting paranoid.
Odesseiron looked positively delighted. "More fools of yours that managed to get sent to the hells? Well, it seems as if you are even more of a moron than I had anticipated, if yon coward Khalid died under your leadership," he assured Harrian.
Corias knew that Edwin was just doing what Edwin did – irritated, poked, and made gibes just to hit at the weak spots, to test the defences of his enemy and see what could be useful in the future if it became necessary. Harrian also knew that he shouldn't rise to the bait, as not only was it useful to Odesseiron, it was entertaining for him.
He still clamped a fist around his neck and slammed him into the wall. "If you speak of him again in such terms – nay, any terms, for you foul his name with your voice – then I will tighten my grip until all that is left is something no cleric can raise. Though I doubt any would waste their time with something as meagre as yourself."
Even whilst being throttled, Edwin still managed to maintain a cool outlook, as if he'd rather die than give his enemy the satisfaction of seeing him afraid. Even with a hand clamped around his neck, he managed to nod, and Corias released him slowly.
"Thank you. That saved me the trouble of doing it," Jaheira commented slowly with a thoughtful frown, and he threw a small yet genuine smile at her. She seemed more pensive than cold, he reasoned with a small flash of realisation. Maybe not all was lost. Maybe she was considering what he had said – for he would leave her be; would never dream of asking her to look at him in a way that went beyond friendship if he didn't think she was simply telling herself she didn't want to.
Edwin gasped a little, rubbing his throat ruefully, and glared at Harrian. "As always, you are as subtle as an ogre and half as smart," he mumbled irritably, but he knew he was on safe ground. Corias could take idle jabs at himself relatively easily. "Shall we get down to business instead of discussion former… ah, comrades?"
"I'd have it no other way," Harrian assured him, nodding at Haer'Dalis. The bard brought the scroll out with a flourish, and presented it to Edwin. "Here is what we stole from the Cowled Wizards. We have no idea what it is, or what it could do, other than it's dangerous and they want it quite seriously.
"As you know, Imoen has been captured and taken to Spellhold, and we're trying to get her back," Harrian continued, not wanting to inform Edwin of too much, but knowing the Red Wizard would have to be informed if he was going to agree to work. "Until we know what the scroll is, we don't know what we'll do with it. Either use it to help get her back, or use it to strike a bargain with the Cowled Wizards to get her back."
Edwin's eyes bulged, and a look of pure delight crossed his face as he scanned the scroll keenly. "This is… my, you have been very busy (though how a moron such as yourself managed to acquire something like this is a question only the gods can answer)."
"Do you have any ideas?" Harrian asked, ignoring his comments and keeping his face impassive.
"Many ideas," Edwin assured him. "None of them quite solid enough. This… this will take some time for me to work on." Odesseiron smiled thinly. "I shall enjoy looking at this. I shall return when I have answers, simians."
With that, he turned and started for the door, but before he could get there, the imposing shape of Minsc appeared in front of him, and Anomen grabbed him, pulling him back around to face Harrian. "No, no, no," the thief insisted. "There is no way that I am going to allow you to walk out of here with that. You wish to unlock its secrets, you will stay here, in the Five Flagons, under our supervision."
Edwin's expression flickered with distaste for a moment. "But, ah, you are a busy man. I would be sure that you can not stay here to watch me constantly? (though if I wished to leave with the scroll by myself, these fools could not stop me)"
"True. Minsc?" Harrian looked up at the berserker warrior. "I sincerely doubt that anything will arise that shall need our attention, and if it is, I doubt it will need your sword arm. In the meantime, would you like to keep a very close eye on Edwin here, make sure he doesn't try anything stupid?"
Minsc looked as if he would very much like Edwin to try something stupid, as it was only for Harrian and Imoen's sakes that he had no struck the wizard down there and then. "Minsc and Boo stand ready," he declared proudly, standing fully upright, his head brushing against the roof's beams.
"So, Edwin… still wanting to take a close look at the scroll?" Jaheira asked, with only the faintest suggestion of mocking in her voice. The Thayvian threw her a sneering look but said something. Harrian had known he would agree – Odesseiron would be incapable of passing up an offer like this.
Just then, the door to the Five Flagons was thrown open once again, and a man dressed in clothes that had seen better days – many of them – hurried in, starting towards the group. "Lord Anomen! A word, if you please?"
Anomen turned, and faint recognition crossed his face, mingling with the apprehension and mild worry. "Yes? Is there something wrong?" He sighed. "My father has drunk himself into another stupor, hasn't he –"
"No, no…" The messenger shifted a little. "He… he bids for you to return home at once, milord. It… it is a matter of great importance and urgency." The man stared at the ground uncomfortably.
Delryn raised an eyebrow. "What could have happened that could make me be willing to return?" he demanded derisively.
"It's… it's your sister, my Lord Anomen," the man croaked unhappily. "She's dead. Murdered most foully, by all accounts…"