4
The fortified city of Crimmor, considered the caravan capital of Amn, was a place where traders of all types gathered before heading to the lands north. Albrec and his companions hadn't spent much time in the city. Once Alisia had obtained the direction of the thieves' flight with her magical rod, the party departed Crimmor's walls. They traveled the trade road by day, stopping to rest alongside merchant caravans at night.
Seven days out from Crimmor, the companions arrived at a roadside tavern that was a popular camping stop for the merchant caravans. While Glannor, Rorin, and Kaegan set up their camp Albrec went into the tavern with Corwin and Alisia. Albrec volunteered to help gather supplies in the tavern for two reasons: it was a good excuse not to pitch the tents and it kept him close to the desirable elf.
The sparsity of patrons inside the tavern surprised Albrec. He had expected an establishment on the side of a trade road—especially if the place was the only one for leagues—to be more bustling than this. There were a total of five people inside, and two of those were employees in the form of a bartender and a barmaid. Five pairs of eyes were looking toward the three newcomers.
The bartender, shining a brass mug, flagged their attention with a wave of his hand. "Leave your weapons outside. No weapons allowed in here."
"Very well," Corwin said.
Corwin and Alisia turned to leave. Albrec, however, headed for the bar.
"I'm not giving up my blades," the halfling said.
"We must abide by the wishes of the proprietor," Corwin said. "If this place doesn't allow weapons, we must return after we have divested ourselves of our armament."
"It didn't ever used to be like that," one of the patrons said. "Use to be we could come in right off the road, but now we have to take the time to make sure our weapons are secured in our camps."
"What changed?" Albrec asked.
"Some folk like you come in and killed some people for no reason."
Corwin turned to the speaking patron. "Folk like us?"
"Armed freebooters. Adventurers. They had a wizard with them. Odd lot they were, too."
"How odd?"
"Me throat be getting parched with all this talking, and me mug is almost empty."
"Don't try to fleece them, Alvin," the bartender said.
"Why not?"
"They're perspective customers, and I don't want you chasing them off. As you can see, business in here has been slow since the massacre."
"How long ago was this attack?" Corwin asked.
"Eighteen days ago," the bartender said.
"That sounds about right," Alisia said. "The thieves would have been through this area about that time."
Corwin took a silver coin from his belt purse. As he moved forward to set it on the bar, the bartender waved him back.
"No weapons," the bartender said.
The barmaid's gaze never left Corwin since they entered, and she finally spoke. "He wears the holy symbol of Tyr."
"Aye," the bartender said. "So?"
The barmaid took a tentative step toward Corwin. "Are you a paladin, by chance? The last man who came in here with the holy symbol of one of the benevolent gods displayed openly like that was a paladin."
"How long ago?" Corwin asked.
"The same time as the murderers," the bartender said.
"They killed him," the barmaid said, putting a hand to her throat. "They killed him and his three friends. They tried to stop the killers from hurting me, and they were killed for it. I'd be dead if not for the paladin."
"Paladins a rare in these parts," the bartender remarked. "And now we had two within a month's time."
Corwin was visibly affected by the news of the death of one of his brother paladins. "What god did he follow?"
"Torm. An ally, I gather, since your god and his are part of the Triad."
"We'll talk more after we rid ourselves of our weapons."
"No need, sir paladin. You're no threat. You and your companions are welcome here with your blades."
The barmaid continued to stare at Corwin. Alisia gave him a smirk, her eyes laughing.
"You have an admirer," the elf remarked quietly.
"Those killers," the paladin said, ignoring her comment. "How many?"
"Two did the butchering," the bartender replied. "A human and a dark elf."
Alisia blanched. "A drow would not associate with a human, even if they share the same depraved morality."
"Any others?" Corwin asked.
"Aye," the bartender said. "They had a wizard with them. He could have been a human or a moon elf by the size of him, but he kept himself covered up. I could only see his eyes, and they weren't something I care to look upon again. They had others with them. A big, ugly orc, a gray dwarf and a...uh...deep gnome I think they're called."
"That accounts for all but the halfling," Corwin said to Alisia.
"Maybe he didn't see the halfling," Alisia said. She threw Albrec a glance. "They can be hard to notice when they want to be."
"Maybe the wizard just couldn't find a villainous halfling willing to go along with his nefarious scheme," Albrec said.
"Someone took the Topaz of Halflingkind, Albrec. It was stolen with the other Hearts."
"Did you see which direction they took when they left?" Alisia asked.
"They left in the middle of the night," the bartender replied. "Before we could bring troops in from the nearest garrison to apprehend them."
"If they were concerned about avoiding the authorities," Corwin said, "they probably left the road."
Alisia took her divining rod from her quiver and headed out of the tavern. Albrec and Corwin followed close behind her.
Corwin's bonded mount, Katla, waited outside the tavern for the paladin. The mare fell into step beside Corwin, and he reached up to stroke the side of her head.
As explained by Glannor recently, a paladin's bonded mount was not an ordinary horse. Albrec could believe it after watching Katla over the course of their journey. She was overprotective of Corwin, and she never did seem quite willing to trust Albrec despite Corwin's assurances. Kaegan the half-orc she trusted, but Albrec she didn't. Go figure.
Albrec was shaken from his musing when he slammed into Alisia's leg. He wrapped both arms around the bare leg to keep from bouncing onto his backside. He continued to hug her leg, enjoying the feel of the soft, smooth flesh against his hands.
He looked up to see Alisia, Corwin, and Katla all looking down at him. He grinned sheepishly and backed away from the elf maiden's leg. She waggled her finger reproachfully and returned her attention to the divining rod in her hand.
"They left the road," she told Corwin. "As you suspected."
"Let's go back to the tavern and buy our supplies," the paladin said. "We should leave at dawn."
Alisia tucked her rod into her quiver. "Agreed."
-
Athmek, Celesta Brumble's captor, unwrapped his mask from his head while in the privacy of his tent. All the privacy allowed by the captive halfling in the cage, that is. His head and face bore the shape of his long-dead human ancestors...or at least he had claimed to be descended from humans. He was not human, however, as revealed by his dusky gray skin and veiled eyes. Like all inhabitants of the City of Shade—he had once explained to Celesta—Athmek was a shade. No matter what their ancestors' race of origin, the people in Athmek's home city were now all shades. Thus, no one in the City of Shade could handle the Hearts of Knowledge. Ironic, since he'd said the Hearts of Knowledge had been created millennia ago by the powerful mages of Netheril, the long-dead empire of which the City of Shade had once been a part.
The mirror before him, a relic from Shade, shimmered as Athmek placed his palm over one of the knobs on the frame. The visage of a human, eyes dulled by ale, appeared on the scrying mirror.
The human's drunken eyes shot wide, apparently in surprise to Athmek's appearance. "You told me to contact you if anyone shows interest in your party."
"Indeed I did," Athmek said. "Report."
"They number six. A human, an elf, a halfling, a dwarf, a gnome, and a half-orc mongrel."
"That would be the mix of races that Candlekeep would send to recover the Hearts," Athmek murmured.
"I observed their activities. The elf has this stick that she used to find your trail. It looks like some kind of magic."
"Indeed. You have done well."
"You'll give me the magic words that will remove the glyph on the box of gold you left me now, right?"
"Exactly," Athmek said. "The words you want are ethra arunica."
"Many thanks, milord."
Athmek took his palm off the knob, and the human's image faded, replaced by the shade's own reflection. He looked toward Celesta's cage.
"Greed is a useful tool, little one," he said. "That poor soul is going to use the words I gave him to open the box, thinking he'll receive riches beyond his imagination. All he'll do is invoke a fireball spell that will consume him and all around him."
"But...but he did as you asked," Celesta whimpered.
"Believe me, I did what I did not because I enjoy cruelty. I'm not like Territ and the others. I just can't leave behind anyone who can identify me. The restoration of Netheril to its former glory is too important."
"What happens when you no longer need me to carry this gem that you say only halflings can carry?"
Athmek didn't answer her.
His non-answer, however, told her that her life would be forfeit as soon as he was done with her. "Will you at least call the monster from my village?" she asked.
The monster in question was a manticore he'd summoned to hold Celesta's home village hostage.
"When the ritual of binding is complete," Athmek said, "I will recall the beast."
"I have your word?" Celesta wasn't confident his word meant anything, but she had to ask.
"You have my word," Athmek said. "As for now, I think I should conjure up something for my pursuers."