Chapter 41: Return to the Copper Coronet
"What if they don't let us in?" Anomen hissed, shifting uncomfortably as the party stood in front of the Copper Coronet. "They were fairly… firm in their ejection of us last time," he pointed out.
"They'll let us in," Harrian told him firmly. "And if they don't want to, then we'll have to be somewhat… persuasive, yes?" And before the cleric could offer a reply, the thief had opened the door and stepped in, Jaheira close behind him. Anomen grimaced, then he and the others followed them.
A bouncer, recognisable by Delryn as one he had punched in the face during the barroom brawl that had banned them from the tavern, approached Harrian and placed a halberd in front of him, barring his path. "I believe you are banned from here, mate," he drawled dangerously.
The armoured man had not been expecting much of a resistance from the shorter man, and thus he was rather taken aback to feel the prick of a dagger sticking in him. He looked down to see the blade stuck in a chink of his armour.
Corias had moved so surreptitiously that the bouncer had not noticed, and now the thief wore an innocent expression on his face. "This will only take a moment," Harrian assured him sweetly. The bouncer gulped then nodded and backed off, feeling particularly fond of his liver that day.
Harrian smiled too brightly at Jaheira, then started towards the counter where the large bartender, named Bernard, was standing, polishing some glasses. Harrian felt surprised to see that the Copper Coronet actually had clean glasses. "Can I have a word, friend?" he asked him quietly.
Bernard looked up brightly. "What can I do for..." His voice trailed off as he saw the druid hovering over the thief's shoulder. "Jaheira? Jaheira, no games now, you look like you've seen yer own ghost, or are about to. Young lady, you look about ninety! Are you ill?"
Jaheira shook her head, resting more heavily on the counter than Harrian would have liked, and he resisted the urge to support her himself. "I'm...I'm fine, Bernard. I just need..."
"The hell you are!" the bartender insisted, setting the glass down and glaring at a surprised Harrian. "These louts you travelling with running you ragged? I'll have them fishing for shark in the bay with no net if they..."
Jaheira looked up, and spoke more forcefully this time. "Bernard, I'm fine. I just need… need some information." She took a deep breath, and grimaced before continuing. "I need to find Belgrade."
Bernard shook his head sadly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jaheira, but he's not around anymore." The bartender's face grew thoughtful and a little nostalgic. "I aint had the pleasure of his company in nigh unto..."
"Bernard!" the druid snapped, bringing him back to reality. "Bernard, this is important. I need to contact him. I know you can connect with the network when you need to so..." Her voice trailed off meaningfully.
The network? I thought this Belgrade was just a merchant? Harrian thought, frowning, but said nothing.
Bernard's expression grew more sorrowful. "Oh, Jaheira, you misunderstand me. Belgrade, he's… he's dead."
The druid's emotionless mask crumpled, and the shock on her face resounded so deeply within Harrian that he got the most horrible sense of déjà vu. Jaheira stared at the counter for a long moment, her expression still shocked, until, with a supreme effort, she slipped the mask back on again. "D… dead? When?" For all her efforts, her voice still faltered on the first word.
Bernard shifted uncomfortably. "A while back. He got sickly just like..." Realisation struck, and the bartender looked horrified. "Oh my, just like you. What is it, a plague that only affects Harpers? I knew your lot would anger the wrong god or..."
Ah, so this Belgrade was a Harper, was he? I wonder why Jaheira told me he was a merchant… Harrian mused quietly, then shrugged. Well, it is of little matter or consequence now. She probably just… didn't want to compromise Harper security, or the like, he reasoned.
Jaheira was back in forceful mode again. "Bernard, please. I need to know where they found Belgrade." She took a deep, slightly shuddering breath. "I also need to know if you have seen Baron Ployer."
Bernard thought a moment. "Found Belgrade in the east slums. Too many tracks to tell if he was dumped there." The bartender went back to polishing a glass, and his tone grew scathing. "And Ployer? He aint welcome here. Damn glad you exposed him, Jaheira."
Jaheira nodded, but Harrian could see another weight had been placed on her shoulders. "I see... Thank you, Bernard. I... I really must be going now." She straightened up, faltered a moment, but regained her balance without having to take aid from Harrian as he took a step forward to offer it.
Bernard nodded gruffly. "You take care now. Please."
The party took a table wordlessly. "So, this Belgrade was found in the east slums. Ployer will most likely be staying somewhere nearby," Harrian mused thoughtfully, scratching at his goatee. He looked over at Jaheira. "Do you need to rest, are you tired?"
"I am fine. I do not want to wait around any longer than necessary. The sooner we find Ployer, the sooner I will be free of this damn curse," Jaheira insisted, though the fatigued tone of her voice belied her words.
Harrian nodded firmly and looked at the other four. "Right. I want all of you to go scouting out the east side; look for houses Ployer could be staying in. If you can confirm where he's currently residing, that's great, but don't run into him if you can avoid it. And… do it quickly."
The others were gone in moments, leaving Harrian and Jaheira alone at the table. The druid looked at him sceptically. "And may I ask just why you are sending them out and leaving the two of us here waiting for them?" she asked quietly.
He leant over towards her, a frown on his face. "Because you are far more tired than you are letting on, and I am not about to allow you to exert yourself. The others will find Ployer, then we will go and deal with him." She opened her mouth to protest, but he pushed on. "Hey, you never listen to my role as party leader. Do so for the first time now," he continued, a small smile on his face.
The smile died as, before Jaheira could reply, a figure approached the table they were standing at. "Well, well, well. Look who's dragged their sorry carcass back in here. I thought they chucked you out, boy?"
Harrian grimaced, and looked up to see Amalas standing there, practically managing to swagger when he was standing still. A look of disgust replaced the grimace. "Great. You again," the thief groaned.
Amalas grabbed Corias by the shoulder and yanked him to his feet. "Yep. Me. We didn't get to finish it last time, as your priest friend whacked you over the head." He grinned at Harrian's surprised expression. "Or did he knock the memory right out of you?"
"Really, now is not the time," Corias insisted, keeping his voice low and not rising to the bait. He needed to have a bit of a word with Anomen later, but later was later and now was now, and now he had a rabid psycho after him.
He was about to go for his dagger again and convince Amalas that he spoke the truth, when a podgy hand placed itself on the cutthroat's shoulder. "Leave them alone, or you'll be made unwelcome here," Bernard told him quietly.
Amalas glared daggers at the bartender, and glanced over at Lehtinan behind the bar, who shrugged and nodded at Bernard. The ruffian scowled, then released Harrian and slunk off back to his cronies foully.
Jaheira nodded her thanks to Bernard, and the bartender merely gave them a look before returning to his place. There was clearly some unspoken agreement here between Harper and bartender that Harrian had missed. He looked around shiftily. "It probably is better if we wait outside. This place is… erm… unwelcoming."