Author's Note: There are no succubi, incubi or demons of any sort in this chapter…sorry! A Knight-Captain's life is not always full of excitement…
Chapter 6…Luskan Bait
I was up bright and early the next morning. Well, early anyway. My foul mood became fouler when I was forced to wear one of my new tunics, due to the fact that my favorite practice clothes were still in Neeshka's bedchamber.
I went looking for my robe after the morning briefing, during which Kana presented me with a list of candidates for the 'giant egg sac reconnaissance team' and I, with a straight face, suggested it might be best to use our resident expert—in other words, give the bogus task to the druid. (I'd have to make my apologies to Elanee later.) Neeshka was still in her nightshirt, drinking watered ale for breakfast.
"Jess, I'm terribly sorry," she said, suspiciously bright-eyed. "Your ratty old robe met with a sad accident and was carried off by the maid. She said she needed more cleaning rags."
"That's not funny!"
"Your face is," she said, but just then I noticed a corner of my robe poking out from under her bed. I snatched it, shook out some of the wrinkles and pulled it over my head.
"Back in hiding," Neeshka said. "And I see you've got that hair of yours tamed back down as well. Too bad."
"I'm not hiding," I said. "I'm comfortable and…and practical." I had a sudden image of the succubus leaning over me, his—well, her hand buried in my hair. I swallowed. Neeshka grinned.
"But those new clothes worked a treat last night, didn't they?" Her tail twitched in amusement. "I've gotta say, you certainly surprised me though, Jess. You really, really surprised me."
"What are you talking about?" I asked with a sinking feeling.
"You and Ammon, of course. Who'd have thought? He might be older than dirt but there's still plenty of fire in him, I can tell. I really like a man who can make a girl scream—and on your first date, too. Wow. Way to go, Jess."
I just shook my head, no doubt crimson with embarrassment.
"It wasn't like that and please don't go around saying…"
"Oh, I won't say a word," she said. "You know me, Discreet is my middle name."
Actually, I was pretty sure it was Garrulous.
"But tell me, Jess, is it true what they say?"
"I doubt it."
"No, really, I want to know. They say once you sleep with a warlock, you're ruined for all other men. It sounds great but I was always a little scared to find out. You know? Because there are lots of lovely men around but how often do you run into a warlock?"
"Honestly, I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Oh, yeah, that's right, you don't know. You're a virgin. Well, you were. Now I guess you're ruined for all other men. Too bad." And she snickered. I gave up and left, only to be cornered by Zhjaeve in the corridor.
"This is for you," she said, handing me a folded square of parchment.
"What is it?" I asked, unfolding it to read a list of ingredients written in the cleric's elegant hand.
"It is a receipt for a reliable contraceptive potion." She patted my back until I quit coughing. I scanned the list again, noting that most of the ingredients looked readily available. I handed it back.
"I don't need this, Zhjaeve."
I was pretty sure she smiled behind her veil. She quietly refolded the list and put it in my pocket.
"Know that it is best to be prepared."
I was hoping my day wouldn't worsen but the look Bishop gave me when I met him in the practice yard was a warning of more to come. Obviously he had heard the rumors. Unfortunately it was my day to spar with him. He spoke not one word but his angry eyes and compressed lips spoke volumes. I honestly thought a time or two that he was going to try to kill me with his blunt wooden blades. Although it was easily the best workout I'd ever had in my entire life, it was more than a tad too realistic for my taste. Afterwards I limped back to Zhjaeve for healing and when she was done, she slipped a small vial in my pocket. I'd never seen the githzerai wink before. It was…odd.
I changed out of my sweat-soaked clothes and bathed briefly before my session with Sand to avoid collecting any more caustic 'unwashed tunic' remarks. He worked me until my brain turned into a sticky puddle. I was sure he had heard the rumor about last evening's events (since he heard everything) but he said nothing, for which I was profoundly grateful.
Speaking of profound gratitude, I hadn't seen Ammon all day. That was not unusual—I rarely knew what he was up to—and at first I was glad to be spared any potential embarrassment. Not that we had done anything to be embarrassed about, of course. Still, people seemed to think that we had and they would likely be watching us for any reaction. As if I wouldn't be feeling self conscious enough about what had—well, what hadn't—happened. But as the day dragged on, I wished we would just run into each other and get it over with.
In fact, I was thinking it might be a good idea for me to head down into the basement and check on Kistrel. I ought to make sure that no one was bothering her due to that stupid tale I made up about an egg sac. The fact that Ammon's work room was also in the basement (since he was one of the few people capable of actually ignoring Grobnar) was a coincidence of course.
I took a deep breath and went down the steps.
"Oh, are you looking for Sir Ammon?" Grobnar asked cheerfully, looking up from his workbench, where he was tinkering with something that looked suspiciously like a blast globe. (I'd only told him a hundred times: no explosives inside the keep.) Grobnar was always cheerful. In a keep where angst, irritability, and just plain bad manners sometimes seemed to rule, cheerfulness wasn't a bad thing.
Of course, it wasn't exactly a good thing either.
"He went out on patrol with some of the Greycloaks early this morning," Grobnar said. He grinned like this was excellent news. I wasn't sure what kind of news it was, actually. Ammon was out with the Greycloaks? On patrol? That just seemed so odd. Unless, of course, he was trying to avoid me, in which case…it was still odd. I just couldn't imagine him laboring under any sort of awkwardness or, for that matter, showing much in the way of delicate concern for my own feelings.
When I finally escaped Grobnar and returned to the main hall, Kana strode towards me with a nervous looking fellow at her elbow. He seemed vaguely familiar.
"Knight-Captain, this man insists upon speaking to you," she said crisply. He gave me a low bow.
"My name is Khralver Irlingstar," he said, in a Luskan accent that immediately made my hackles rise. "I am the assistant to the Luskan ambassador, Sydney Natale." Ah, so that was where I had seen him, at Lord Nasher's court. I gave an inward sigh and hoped my distaste did not show on my face.
"What can I do for you, Khralver?" I asked politely.
"Oh, no, I, I mean we have not come to you for aid," he stammered. "We come to offer assistance."
"Luskan offers aid to Crossroad Keep?" I asked with mild incredulity.
"Yes indeed. We offer aid to you and, um, Neverwinter as recompense of a sort for the actions of those terrible criminals, Torio Claven and Lorne Starling," he said. "Not that we have any responsibility for them, of course." He coughed into his sleeve. "My mistress—the Luskan ambassador—has discovered how to destroy the shadow reavers!"
"You're kidding," I said. "That's great! How?"
"Well, I don't know." At my skeptical look, he started talking faster. "She has uncovered a scroll in the libraries of the Host…of Luskan that she believes holds the key to a weakness in the shadow reavers."
"I'd like to take a look at it," I said, trying to hide my interest.
"The scroll is in the safe-keeping of the ambassador," he said. "She has asked me to arrange a meeting to show it to you. We understand that you have a visitor from the planes here in the keep."
I stiffened. How in the Nine Hells had Sydney Natale found out about the succubus? Damn those spying Luskans!
"The ambassador asks that you be accompanied by the person known as…um…" He paused and shamefacedly passed me a slip of paper. I gave him a hard stare and then glanced at the paper.
"Oh," I said, relieved. "You mean Zhjaeve." He wasn't the only one unsure how to pronounce her name.
"Yes," he said, with a nervous smile. "The githzerai woman. Also Sydney asks that your companion Qara accompany you as well."
"Why does she wish to see Zhjaeve and Qara?" I asked suspiciously.
"Well, you see, ah, the thing is that we cannot actually, um, read the scroll in question," he said. "The ambassador believes that the combined talents of herself, the sorcerer and the githzerai may be required to decipher the scroll. And of course, you as well—you are known to be highly skilled in the arcane arts, Knight-Captain." I ignored that ridiculous attempt at flattery. By the standards of the Arcane Brotherhood, my wizardly skills couldn't count for much.
"If Sydney can't read it, how does she know it will be of any use?" I asked.
"I—well, I don't know for sure. I believe she can translate part of it. You will have to ask her."
"Very well," I said. "She may come to the keep and we will meet with her."
"I have been instructed to bring you to meet her."
"Where?" I asked, my brows drawing down. There was no other keep or inn any closer than Highcliff. Surely she wasn't proposing we meet in Neverwinter? Or worse, Luskan? Didn't she know I was busy?
"Nearby," Khralver said nervously.
"Tell her to meet me here," I said. "I have a conference room." I had a very nice conference room, in fact, recently restored and scarcely used at all. I turned away. He clutched my arm, but then released me at Kana's savage look.
"I must insist," he began. I raised both brows in the 'I am the Captain' look I'd been practicing. It wasn't effective on my own companions but it worked pretty well on him—for a moment there I thought Khralver was going to burst into tears. "I misspoke myself! Please, you must listen. The ambassador does not wish to enter Crossroad Keep. She is being watched and she doesn't want the Hosttower to know what she has discovered. She has set up a campsite nearby. It is perfectly safe. Really!"
Yeah, sure it was.
"It's not far," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "I can lead you there. Sydney is most insistent…most desirous of proving her service to Neverwinter. Please, you must come."
I sighed.
"Wait here," I said. "I will confer with my companions and give you an answer shortly."
I had Zhjaeve, Qara, Sand and (reluctantly) Torio Claven, our resident expert on Luskan plots, meet me in the library.
"Well, what do you think?" I asked, after I had told them the Luskan's proposal.
"It's a trap," Torio said, staring at her fingernails as if they displeased her.
"Well, of course it is a trap, dear girl," Sand said scornfully. "They are Luskans after all." Torio looked up to meet his gaze. They stared at each other like unfriendly cats.
"I think we all agree that it is likely a trap," I said. "The question is—is the bait worth going after? Has Sydney found a way to make the shadow reavers vulnerable or is she lying? What do we know about her? Sand? Torio?"
My words interrupted the staring contest before a winner could be declared.
"Natale's skills are said to be solid, if not inspired," Torio said. "She has studied in the libraries extensively, seeking ways to enlarge her meager talents, it is said. The fact that she is now the ambassador to Neverwinter speaks for itself. The job is no plum, particularly now," she said acidly. "She is not in high favor with the Arcane Brotherhood. Everything known about her reeks of mediocrity."
"Ah, but is that her true face or merely a front to deflect the attacks of rivals?" Sand purred.
"Well, that is the question, isn't it?" Torio purred back. The staring contest resumed.
"Ahem," I said. "The questions I would like to have answered are: Has she found something of value, and how serious a threat does any trap she sets pose? In other words, is the payout worth the risk?"
Plenty of discussion and argument followed but in the end, the answer was: no one knew. I was disappointed but not surprised.
"Fine," I said, cutting into Sand and Torio's increasingly acrimonious comments. "Zhjaeve, what do you think? She asked for you specifically. There must be some reason for that."
The cleric gave me a slight nod of approval.
"I have been considering that," she said, in her low pleasant voice. "Know that the shadow reavers have one vulnerability—their True Names."
"Is it possible that Natale has acquired a list of these names?" I asked in growing excitement.
"That is what her words imply." Her eyes showed a glimmer of the same excitement that I felt. "Know that these shadow reavers may once have been men of Luskan but they are creatures of shadow now. Those of the Shadow Plane have been studied by my people. Perhaps their names have been transcribed from the githzerai or githyanki tongues. She may be unable to read or speak them."
"That seems logical," I agreed. "But why does she ask for Qara as well? Qara? Do you have any ideas?"
"Perhaps she has heard of my power and wishes to see it for herself," the sorcerer said, preening slightly.
"She wouldn't be trying to recruit Qara for Luskan?" I asked Sand.
"Unlikely," Sand said haughtily but he cast me a worried look.
"As if I'd be interested," Qara said, equally haughty. "The Hosttower sounds worse than the Academy."
"You have no idea," Sand muttered.
My decision was reached.
"Zhjaeve, I would like you to accompany me," I said briskly. "Qara, I'll leave it up to you. Will you come?"
"I'm not afraid of any Luskans," she said. "Let them try something. I'll burn them to ash." She grinned, the first happy expression I had seen on her face in a long time. That gave me pause.
We hadn't done well by Qara, I feared. She had insisted on accompanying us to Crossroad Keep and I'd often wondered why. She didn't really seem to have any friends here or any feeling of camaraderie, and that was as much her choice as anyone else's. Nor did she seem driven by any sense of duty or responsibility. Most of the time, she seemed bored and discontented. I really didn't understand her at all.
"That's my girl," I said, making a mental note to wear my fire resistant robe and my ring, if I could find it. Qara loved her fireballs. "Make your preparations and meet me in the hall after dinner. I'd appreciate it if word of this meeting does not make it out of this room," I added, looking mainly at Torio. She gave me a mocking little bow.
In addition to my robe, I threw on the Amulet of Truth that Lord Nasher had given me. Dealing with Luskans, that would surely come in handy. My favorite sword, a couple of wands, and I was set. Except…
After a moment's hesitation, I went down the corridor and tapped on Khelgar's door. Luckily I caught him in. He opened the door and grinned when he saw me.
"What can I do for you, lass?"
"Actually, I have a big favor to ask," I said.
"Anything!"
"You'd better let me ask it first," I said. This had seemed like a good idea but now I was a little embarrassed. "Khelgar, I was wondering if you would let me borrow the Gauntlets of Ironfist tonight."
"What!"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," I said. "I know they belong to your clan and…"
"Nay, lass, you may wear them if you like. I'm just surprised, that's all." His eyes narrowed. He took the gauntlets off his dresser and tossed them to me with a casualness that neither one of us felt for this powerful relic of his people. "Hey, now, there's a fight brewing and you're not bringing Khelgar along? I don't think much of that."
"Kind of a girls' night out," I said. He continued to frown and I ended up telling the tale.
"I can't say as I trust those Luskan dogs."
"Me neither," I said. "I'm thinking they may be prepared for my spells." I flexed my hands in the gauntlets. I felt magical strength run through me, warm and potent like harvest mead. I actually bounced on my toes a little from the rush. "This might give them a nasty surprise though." Khelgar chuckled.
"You'd best wear the belt as well," he said finally. He fastened the Belt of Ironfist around me himself. It hung low on my hips but it didn't fall off. Added to the magic of the gauntlets, I felt like some great monstrous giant, ready to take on half the Realms. If this was the way Khelgar usually felt, no wonder he loved to fight. I was ready to go punch out a dragon.
Sydney Natale didn't stand a chance.
Khelgar gave me a sly look. "You'll be wanting the hammer too, now won't ye, lass?" We both laughed. The hammer of Torim Ironfist was a weapon of awesome power, but could only be wielded by one of his clan.
"I surely would!" He gave me a buffet between the shoulder blades that normally would have knocked me to my knees.
"You are a fine lass," he said approvingly. "But a dwarf, ye ain't. A pity, that."
I gave him a fond look.
"It is indeed."