Chapter 39
The world around him was distorted; trees, hills and rocks spiralled and swirled all around him. Nevertheless, Ajantis knew exactly where he was.
He cast his gaze downward to the blood-stained grass and mud, then slowly turned around to face a blond, messy-haired boy no more than sixteen years of age.
"You failed them," the youth said, his voice soft and kind.
Ajantis said nothing. The boy smiled warmly and raised a hand to Ajantis' face. His fingers barely caressed the squire's nose and it suddenly burned like a fire had been lit within.
The sunlit woodland disappeared and the boy's face became that of another with similarly youthful features.
"Stay still," Garrick told him, dapping his face again with the wet cloth.
Ajantis blinked, and the movement of his eye-lids sent a wave of needle-like pain crashing through his skull. He groaned and shut his eyes.
He became aware that he was sitting up on the floor. Someone was kneeling – no, standing – behind him with their hands on his back, keeping him propped up while Garrick held the cloth against his torn nose. The cloth's scent filled his senses, and he recognized the aroma of a healing potion.
The memory came back to him.
The elven woman, her arm flowing blood, effortlessly dodging his punch. A flash of reflected candlelight on the blade of her knife as it rushed towards his face.
And before...
Pain stabbed through his head again as his eyes snapped open.
"Khalid," he breathed. "Jaheira."
"Sir Ilvarstarr -" said Garrick. Ignoring him, Ajantis attempted to move. The fire in his nose spread throughout his head, and he clenched his jaw and pressed a hand to the cloth over his face as he looked around. Bile filled his throat as his eyes roved over the blood-stains on the floor. Relief then flooded him as he spotted Khalid and Jaheira, dishevelled and bloodied yet on their feet.
"Thank Helm," he muttered, wincing as his mouth formed the words through his fractured jaw. "The elf. Where…"
"Escaped, no thanks to the sodding lot'a ya," Kagain's voice answered from somewhere behind him.
"Can you move?" another voice asked, right behind him, and Ajantis realized that the one holding him up from behind was Dorean. "We have someone in need of healing."
"Dorean," said Garrick. "He's wounded, we shouldn't have him moving arou–"
"Where?" said Ajantis, forcing the word out through his numb jaw.
Dorean pointed. Keeping one hand on the cloth, Ajantis used the other to push himself up off the floor. He grunted as more needles pierced the inside of his head, rising slowly to his feet.
"About sodding time," Kagain's voice snapped somewhere to his right. Ajantis ignored him and hobbled past Khalid and Jaheira to where Imoen and Xzar were kneeling at the remnants of the smashed bed.
Montaron lay on his side in the pile of broken wood. His eyes were closed, and his face, normally blank or bored-looking when it wasn't scowling, now looked peaceful. The sheets around his head were stained red.
"I've tried everything," a blood-covered Imoen said, her voice anxious and shaking as she pressed what looked like a smelling salt under Montaron's nostrils. "But he won't wake up."
The memory slowly came back to Ajantis; Montaron hurtling backwards through the air, hitting the bed-post head-first and crumbling to the floor in a shower of splinters.
"Concussion," Xzar said softly, feeling over his partner's scalp. "Serious. Possible brain damage." The wizard's eyelids lowered as he gazed down at his unmoving partner. He then glanced over his shoulder at Ajantis. "He may never wake up."
Ajantis' mind recalled Montaron outside Thalantyr's estate, drawing back his arm to hurl a dagger at a child.
A fitting end, then, for a heartless murderer.
A second passed, and something far worse than the pain washed over him as he reminded himself that Montaron had fought to protect the party from the elven madwoman, and had done a better job of it than he had.
"If he's dead, I ain't the one takin' the fall fer it," Kagain's voice growled loudly from behind them.
Ajantis turned and fixed the callous dwarf with a cold glare, off-handedly noting his heavily-bruised face and swollen-shut eye. Kagain met his gaze with a sneer, then slowly and deliberately spat on the floor between them before turning around and stomping towards the door. "Lobby in ten minutes," he barked as he marched out.
Ajantis glared after him for a moment before turning back to Montaron. Xzar was still watching him, and his brow furrowed as Ajantis removed the wet cloth from his face, dropping it to the floor as he stepped forward.
"How is the wound?" he asked, his eyes moving to the blood-stained sheets around Montaron's head.
"I've sealed it," said Imoen, her voice still shaking as she put away the smelling salt. "Why won't he-?"
"Insomnia," said Xzar. Everyone looked at him. "A side-effect of his addiction to stamina potions."
"Well," said Eldoth after a second's silence. "That explains some of his personality at least."
"If he has that on top of the concussion, I doubt he would wake up any time soon," said Garrick, walking over to stand next to Ajantis.
The squire noticed at this moment that neither Khalid nor Jaheira had said a word; they both stood silently together as the rest of the party crowded around Montaron. Ajantis grimaced as he recalled their open hostility towards the halfling. He then turned back to Montaron and stepped forward. "I'll carry him."
Xzar and Imoen looked up at him, the latter's eyes widening in concern as Ajantis slowly hobbled over and kneeled next to them. "You're hurt, Ajantis," she said. He grunted in response but otherwise ignored her.
Xzar's eyes narrowed as the squire bent down to bring his hands beneath Montaron's shoulders and legs. Grunting again from both the exertion and the pain rattling in his skull, Ajantis attempted to lift the halfling off the floor.
Xzar then reached out, grasped Montaron's left hand in his right, and broke an index finger.
A knife plunged upwards through Xzar's palm and a hairy, leather-soled foot shot up and struck Ajantis' face.
Everyone else pulled back from Montaron as he leapt to his feet.
"Montaron, it's us!" Dorean shouted. "Calm down, we mean you no-!"
"Shut up!" Montaron yelled, brandishing his knife.
The room fell silent save for his rasped, hoarse breathing.
Ajantis lay flat on his back, eyes closed and both hands clamped over his mouth and chin.
Xzar slowly rose to his feet, ignoring the blood flowing from his right hand. He returned Montaron's furious glare with a half-lidded smile.
"Montaron," Imoen said, slowly stepping forward. "You need to sit down. You've got a con- "
Montaron's left hand shoved her hard in the stomach. Imoen hit the floor, landing on her back and sliding a few paces before coming to a stop. She laid still for a moment before slowly lifting her head.
Montaron did not so much as glance at her. He continued to glare at Xzar, coal-black eyes filled with venomous hate. The wizard's bright green eyes stared back, though now they were wide, and his smile was gone.
A moment passed.
Without taking his eyes off Xzar, Montaron's right hand slowly reached up, still gripping the bloody knife, and he realigned his broken finger.
He turned away and staggered forward. The party moved to let him through, watching him as he reached his pack which lay directly below his previous spot in the ceiling rafters.
Maintaining a one-handed grip on his knife, Montaron removed a water-skin from the pack, cursed loudly as he dropped it, snatched it up, brought it to his lips, drained the contents in one go, and then dumped it onto the floor. Without a word or a glance at the party, he turned and staggered out of the room, dragging his pack behind him.
"You didn't have to do that," Ajantis mumbled from the floor, breaking the silence.
Xzar looked down and tilted his head to the side as he gazed at the paladin. Ajantis recalled the wizard's rage and subsequent anguish back in Thalantyr's shop, and Montaron stopping him from attacking the magus.
"We need to see to that hand," said Imoen, standing up and walking over to Xzar.
Xzar's head snapped to face her, all malice on his face instantly drained as he took a step back from the approaching girl. Imoen stopped, then put her hands on her hips and sighed as Xzar backed further away from her until he collided with one of the beds, nearly falling onto it.
He flinched again when Jaheira stepped forward, her face blank and unreadable.
"Hand," she said flatly.
Everyone stared. After a moment, as though he expected her to bite or sever it, Xzar slowly raised his wounded hand. Jaheira wordlessly placed both of her own hands on it and muttered a brief prayer. The bleeding ceased, and the wounds closed. Removing her hands, Jaheira wordlessly stepped back and returned to Khalid's side. She did not look at Xzar, instead quietly meeting the stares from the rest of the party.
After a moment, Dorean went over to Ajantis and offered his hand. Ajantis took it without hesitation, rising slowly and unsteadily to his feet.
"Eldoth," said the dwarf. "Could you help him?"
The bard raised an eyebrow for a second before quietly stepping forward. "Of course."
"Thank you."
Without waiting to hear Ajantis' words of protest or thanks, Dorean patted the squire on the knee before joining Imoen in checking on Khalid.
As Eldoth led Ajantis to the beds where they had left their packs, the latter's eyes lingered on Xzar who was staring at Khalid blushing as Imoen hugged him and Dorean questioned Jaheira on her husband's health as well as her own.
He then turned away, too tired, dazed and in pain to think further, and gratefully accepted Eldoth's offer to help him with his pack.
..
"So Thalantyr was knowingly harbouring a murderer," said Ajantis, keeping a hand pressed to his newly-healed jaw.
"Yes."
"And he decided not to inform us of it."
"To be fair, he told us that if he had, Kagain would have tried to kill him."
Ajantis glanced at Eldoth who, despite the former's protests, was leading him along the corridor with one hand lightly yet firmly gripping his forearm.
"Offering shelter to one of evil and unprovoked violence," Ajantis said grimly. "And those monstrous golems, and the unholy artefacts in his shop…"
"You are speaking of the claw and horn?" Eldoth inquired.
"The stench of evil is in this place. I feel it now, as though it were in my very bones. If I had sensed it sooner…"
Eldoth's eyebrow rose once more, and he glanced ahead of them at Xzar who was shuffling his feet and shooting looks at Imoen and Jaheira, of whom the latter was holding Khalid's hand.
"Perhaps it would be best if we all leave as soon as possible," the bard suggested.
"Yes," Ajantis agreed. "Lest I do something we may all regret."
Eldoth said nothing further.
The sounds of movement and chatter greeted the party well before they reached the lobby, and soon they found themselves before a group of tired and unhappy Dented Shield mercenaries, including an irate Maija who was muttering under her breath while furiously running a whetstone over the blade of her axe.
Montaron was sitting against the wall next to the double doors. His face, only minutes before contorted with rage, had returned to its usual bored indifference. He did not look up at the party's approach, and Kagain did not so much as glance at him as he turned to address the party.
"About sodding time," he growled. "Don't keep me waitin' like this again."
Imoen scowled as he turned and hollered, "On your feet!" The Dented Shields obeyed, albeit with groaning and muttered grumblings.
"Any sign of the Flaming Fist?" said Jaheira.
"Lookouts heard what sounded like fightin' from far off not long after the elf escaped," Kagain replied, ignoring a loud snarl from Maija as she ran her axe-blade over the whet-stone again. "If that maniac's distracted them, then all the better for us."
"From what I have heard of Benjamin Farrahd, I doubt he'll let that distract him from us for long," said Garrick.
"Was I talkin' to ya, music-boy?" Kagain retorted. "Shut ya mouth an' get ya crap. Kept me waitin' long enough."
With a few scowls and glares at the boorish dwarf, the party retrieved their weapons and followed the mercenaries as Kagain led his men back into the interior of the building, this time taking turns and directions not leading to either the shop or the ward. After several minutes, the party followed the Dented Shields around a corner to find Thalantyr awaiting them at what appeared to be a dead-end, leaning on a staff in his right hand.
The magus wasted neither time nor words at their appearance, placing his left hand on the wall behind him and softly muttering an indistinct incantation. The smooth brick appeared to melt, leaving the wall in what looked to be a state of liquidation while remaining intact.
None of the mercenaries said a word; apparently, Kagain had given his men very clear instructions in regard to Thalantyr. They marched straight past him into the portal, many of them shooting looks at the magus which ranged from unfriendly to downright hostile. Thalantyr stood tall and met every single one, staring them down as they moved past and disappeared into the depths of the portal.
Maija slowed as she neared, glaring openly at him and tapping her fingers on the haft of her axe in a manner reminiscent to Kagain's. Thalantyr's eyes narrowed, his left arm hanging loose at his side while the other lightly gripped his staff. Lene then moved up behind Maija with two strides of her long, tree-trunk sized legs, placed her large hands on Maija's shoulders and roughly frog-marched her into the portal before the latter could react.
The party including Kagain was then left alone with Thalantyr. The old magus coolly returned the collective glares of Jaheira, Khalid and Ajantis.
"What are ya waitin' for, a farewell speech?!" Kagain snapped.
"What are you waiting for?" Imoen retorted, side-stepping Dorean's elbow. Kagain snarled at her, and she mockingly snarled back.
"For Lathander's sake, stop it!" Dorean ordered. "Especially you," he added to Imoen, who pouted down at him. "Kagain," Dorean continued sternly, turning to face the mercenary leader. "I understand you're upset, but- "
"Ya gonna tell me what ta do now, nugget?" Kagain growled. "I'm gettin' sick of ya yellin' at me an' givin' me ord- "
"Don't interrupt me."
Everyone stared at Dorean, even Montaron. Kagain's face momentarily slackened as he gazed at the quiet yet fierce resolve in the smaller dwarf. His white beard then twitched, a now-familiar sign of his temper, and his uninjured eye narrowed. Khalid and Jaheira both quietly moved to stand behind Dorean, Jaheira still holding Khalid's hand.
"I understand you're upset," Dorean repeated slowly. "But I do not want any more violence here tonight, despite whatever grievance you have with Master Thalantyr."
"I agree," said Jaheira. "As much as I may wish a confrontation myself," she glanced at the old magus, and her grip on Khalid's hand tightened. "It would be better for all of us if we leave now."
Kagain's eyes moved from Dorean to Jaheira and back again. His beard twitched in a sneer. "Ya ain't nearly as sharp as ya like ta think, nugget," he said softly.
Dorean said nothing. Kagain gave a snort. "I wanna have a word with 'im. Nothin' more."
"Really."
"Yes, really," Kagain replied. "Hard as it might be for ya ta believe, nugget, I ain't the type ta use my axe for everythin'. So ya can rest easy; I ain't gonna start somethin' with the old bastard."
Dorean briefly glanced at Thalantyr; the wizard was now frowning at Kagain's back, though he remained silent.
"Very well, Master Kagain," Dorean said calmly. "We have your- "
He froze, staring past Kagain. The rest of the party followed his gaze to where Xzar now stood directly in front of Thalantyr.
"How did he-?!" Ajantis breathed, his gaze darting back to where Xzar had been standing behind him.
"Your servant," Xzar said, his voice a whisper yet somehow loud enough for everyone to hear. "I will find him."
Thalantyr's eyes went wide. He raised both his staff and his free hand, hurriedly casting what appeared to be a defensive spell. Montaron had already started forward at a run. Khalid and Jaheira began to push Dorean and Imoen behind them.
"I will do to him what you have done to my friend," Xzar said quickly, the words rushing out of him. His lips parted in a grin, and light from the energy gathering in Thalantyr's left hand reflected in his eyes. "I will take his hands and his skull and his teeth and- "
Xzar suddenly froze completely, the grin still fixed on his face.
Montaron stopped as well, one hand gripping a small dagger.
Xzar remained very still. Only his eyes moved, slowly revolving to his left where Imoen now stood on tip-toe, her thumb and fore-finger pinching his cheek.
"Xzar," she said, her voice soft and slow and dangerously sweet. "We have all had a rough night. And I would appreciate…" she moved her thumb slightly, sliding it across his cheek. "Ya not makin' it any rougher." She smiled. "Okay?"
"Enn."
"Thank you," Imoen said brightly. She released him, lowering her hand to her side. Xzar remained very still, staring straight ahead with his grin still in place.
"Xzar, would you kindly go through the portal and then wait for us? We'll be right behind you, don't you worry."
"Nnee."
"Very well."
Imoen gestured to the portal. Xzar's eyes darted to it and then back to where they were looking straight ahead. After a moment, he turned towards it, his movements stiff and rigid like a poorly-made marionette, and walked through it without looking to the right or left.
Imoen smiled at Thalantyr and the rest of the party, then promptly stepped through the portal herself. Growling under his breath, Montaron followed her.
There was a collective pause. The spell in Thalantyr's hand winked out. Eldoth raised his eyebrow yet again.
"We should follow them," said Garrick.
Without further ado, the party obeyed his suggestion, Dorean leading them with a nod to Thalantyr. Their footsteps ceased as they all entered the portal, save for Kagain who remained in place.
Thalantyr stared at the portal where the rest of the party had vanished from sight. After a moment, he turned to the dwarf.
"Whatever you want to say, say it," he said quietly. "Then get out."
Kagain glared at him. He paused for a few seconds, then walked towards Thalantyr, his steel boots clanking on the floor. He stopped a few paces from the old mage, looking up at his face.
"How long?"
Thalantyr blinked, though he continued to glare at Kagain. After a moment, he lifted his head and breathed deeply through his nose.
"Six days."
"An' ya guys?"
"The same. Two of them reported to me this morning. Still no sign of him."
"He's dead, then."
"What do you care?" Thalantyr snarled, clenching his left fist as he glared down at the dwarf. "Why are you asking me? You want to rub it in? Make me feel worse?"
"I'm sayin', don't try an' get ya hopes up."
"Get the hell out of my house."
Kagain looked up at Thalantyr, his bearded face unreadable. He then turned, took a step towards the portal, and stopped.
"Did ya know?"
"Know what?" Thalantyr snapped.
"That the elf killed my men."
Thalantyr hesitated, though only for a second. "Yes," he answered firmly.
Kagain was silent for a moment, his eyes downcast. Without another word, he silently stepped through the portal.
Thalantyr glared at it for several seconds before turning away and sweeping his arm. The portal dissipated, returning the wall to its normal state and leaving him alone in the dim light of the wall-mount torches as he strode down the corridor back to his study.
..
Kivan blinked slowly; once, twice, then a third time. The beard, pipe and hat remained intact. They loomed closer, filling his vision.
Hallucination.
Despite his efforts, the poison had only been slowed, not stopped, and now it had paralyzed his limbs and damaged his mind.
The truth set in, breaking through his rage; there was nothing he could do except to wait for death.
There was simply nothing to be done.
His anger ebbed away, his breathing slowed, and he closed his eyes. The grass felt warm in the summer heat.
Deheriana…I have failed. Forgi-
Something rolled him onto his back and pressed down on his throat. His eyes slammed open and he tried to grab whatever was choking him. His arms refused to budge.
Abruptly, his throat was released, and he felt something press hard into his forehead and peel back his eye-lids. His mouth was then forced open and covered.
He could not resist, not even to lift a finger or to bite down. He stared up at the beard, pipe and hat.
What is-
Something flew into his mouth, down his gullet, and exploded. It filled his stomach, his chest, his limbs.
A starburst exploded in his head, and he closed his eyes tight. A long moment passed before he opened them again.
A face was leaning over and studying him, a hat on its head and an unlit pipe between its teeth. Its brown beard fluttered in the wind, tickling Kivan's chin and neck.
A gnome.
"Thou are cured!" it shouted in his face. "Arise and walk, that thou shall follow and serve Tiax in his grand journey!"
The gnome stepped back. Kivan stared at it before realizing that he had turned his head to follow it. He sat up slowly, keeping his eyes on the gnome, then made a quick sweep of his surroundings and immediately reached for his belt.
Two ghasts, their tall, slender bodies reeking of rot and decay and their teeth and claws slick with blood, stood no more than several paces away. The ground was stained as well, doubtless with blood, the liquid ink-black in his infravision.
Five bodies lay unmoving in the grass, swords and bows clutched in their hands. All of them bore the standard of the Flaming Fist.
Kivan's eyes darted back to the ghasts and then to the gnome who was using his foot to kick up a long quarterstaff off the ground into his hand. His hand searched his waist for a knife that wasn't there, and he realized two things; that he was no longer wearing the cursed belt and had returned to the form of a man, and that he had left his weapons and pack in Thalantyr's home.
"You slaughtered these men," he said, standing up and facing the gnome.
"Dullards who would have dared harm Tiax's servant! Fear not! They have been sent to Cyric, and t'will be judged worthy of his forgiveness or his wrath!"
"Cyric," said Kivan. "The Mad God."
"Mad?!" the gnome - apparently named Tiax - shouted, waving his quarterstaff. "Mad?! The petulant cry of those too blind to see that which is right before their eyes! Mad, you say? Pfeh!"
One of the ghasts turned its head in Kivan's direction, blood dripping from its maw. Kivan swiftly bent down and grabbed a sword lying next to the nearest corpse. He held it one-handed, the tip pointed low at Tiax's face.
"Mad? They call him mad?" Tiax said, ignoring the sword. Kivan held the weapon steady as the gnome began to pace back and forth, muttering under his breath before suddenly stopping to point a finger past the blade at Kivan.
"You are milksopped and ignorant, and you lack respect. HOWEVER," he suddenly yelled, so loud from one so small that Kivan flinched. "Ignorance can be remanded, and thou has yet time to learn to respect thy masters."
Kivan blinked.
"Enough idle talk!" Tiax shouted. "There is work yet to be done! Come, servant!"
He marched away with quarterstaff in hand, the two ghasts following him. He got ten paces before stopping and turning around to see that Kivan had not moved.
"What is this?" Tiax said, squinting and tilting his head to the side. "Have ye no ears to hear? Tiax shall grant them, if thou wishes. Let it not be said that Cyric does not provide for his servants!"
Kivan glared at him. His eyes went to the dead Flaming Fist scouts and then back to Tiax who suddenly fell silent, though his expression did not change.
The ghasts stood still while the gnome and elf watched each other. A long moment passed.
Kivan then lowered his sword and walked away. He heard no movement from either Tiax or the ghasts, and did not look back.
..
When the column of mercenaries ahead of them abruptly halted and began to sit down on the floor of the tunnel, the party halted as well. The half-orc Lene appeared from further along the column and briefly informed them that Kagain had called for a four-hour rest in lieu of their interrupted sleep in High Hedge.
Imoen was hungry and exhausted, and after only a minute of arguing with Dorean, she handed him her food-bag after removing a ration of salted pork, patted Khalid on the arm, and sat down cross-legged to devour her meal.
Garrick placed his sword, crossbow and bolt quiver up against the tunnel wall and laid on his side facing the weapons, using his pack as a pillow. He was asleep within seconds. Ajantis, who was bringing the minstrel a salted pork ration, stopped upon seeing the slumbering bard, then wrapped the food in brown paper and placed it next to his pack. He then went over to the dwarf and half-elves.
"You should get some rest, Ajantis," said Dorean, adding as the squire opened his mouth to protest, "No telling when we'll get another chance."
Ajantis hesitated, looked at Jaheira and Khalid, then reluctantly nodded and moved off to find a spot to sit.
"I do not trust these mercenaries to watch over us," Jaheira said quietly. "I will take the first watch."
"Jaheira, I'm not t-tired at all- "
"You were stabbed through the neck only four hours ago and lost enough blood to fill a basin," Jaheira said bluntly.
"And you n-need to m-meditate," Khalid replied.
The couple frowned at each other. After a moment, Jaheira's shoulders slumped, though her frown did not waver.
"Wake me in one hour."
"Ye- "
"Don't let me sleep a minute longer."
With a glance at Dorean, Jaheira turned and walked to a spot a few paces from Imoen. Khalid spared a moment to watch her sit down cross-legged and place her quarterstaff across her knees.
"I'll join you," Dorean told him. Khalid looked down at the calm, resolute dwarf who was still carrying the Belt of Antipode around his small shoulders. He then smiled and nodded before making his way to the rear of the party, Dorean following behind him.
They passed by Eldoth and Xzar, both of whom were sitting directly opposite from each other against the wall. Dorean nodded to them while Khalid ignored them completely. Eldoth, despite his pleasant smile, was clearly discomforted by Xzar's long, unblinking stare. He nevertheless remained where he sat, and Dorean glanced back at them as he followed Khalid.
It took them nearly ten paces until they saw Montaron; he was about twenty paces ahead, sitting cross-legged with his back to them and facing the direction from which they had travelled. He had not removed his pack or short-sword from his back.
"Seems he's volunteered for the first watch as well," Dorean said quietly. Khalid said nothing, staring at Montaron's back.
After breathing through his nose in an audible sigh, Dorean walked past him towards Montaron who did not respond to his approach. Removing a small bottle of moonshine along with another wrapping of salted beef from Imoen's foodbag, Dorean stopped beside him and wordlessly held them out.
A few seconds passed. Then, without so much as a glance at him, Montaron took the offerings and placed them on the ground next to him.
Dorean walked back to Khalid and sat down against the wall, placing his crossbow and bolt quiver on his left while carefully putting down the Belt of Antipode along with his and the elven woman's packs on his right.
Khalid spent several more seconds looking at Montaron before unbuckling his sword, removing his tower shield and pack from his back and then sitting down next to Dorean across from the dwarf's two packs, putting himself between Dorean and Montaron.
They sat in silence, Khalid eating a ration of salted beef while Dorean had an apple. Montaron did not touch his food, remaining still save for the slight movement of his shoulders as he breathed, and after Khalid gave a fifth glance down the tunnel at the halfling's back, Dorean removed a bottle of moonshine from Imoen's foodbag and held it out to him. The Calishite blinked, then smiled and shook his head.
They had finished their food and were drinking from their water-skins when the familiar clunk of steel-shod boots alerted them to Kagain's approach long before the mercenary leader appeared.
"Enjoyin' yourselves?" he asked sarcastically.
"How is Maija?" said Dorean before Khalid could answer.
"None'a ya sodding business."
"Fair enough," Dorean replied mildly. Kagain's scowl deepened. "Everything quiet at the front?"
"Think my guys don't know how ta keep a lookout?"
"We're in the Upperdark, aren't we?"
Silence struck the tunnel section. Kagain and Khalid stared at Dorean. Twenty paces away, Montaron turned his head very slightly in their direction.
"We're over two miles beneath the surface," said Dorean. "And from the echos, some of the passages we bypassed go very deep. This tunnel also has signs of frequent use, so there may be others aside from us who have used it." He paused. "Are we really safe here, Kagain?"
Kagain was silent, though only for a few seconds. His glower swiftly returned as he snorted at the other dwarf. "Not if ya three clowns keep an eye out instead of havin' a dinner party." He glared at Dorean for a few more seconds before turning around. "Make sure ya change watch in an hour."
"Hey."
The mercenary stopped and growled as he turned to face Khalid. "What?"
"You dug these tunnels?"
Kagain's eyes narrowed. "So what if I did?"
"This goes to Beregost," Khalid said, his voice growing thinner with every word. "You're putting the people of the town at risk."
Silence followed. Dorean's eyes darted between Khalid and Kagain as he stood up and placed himself between them.
Kagain slowly stomped towards Khalid, shoving Dorean aside. He stopped in front of the sitting half-elf and leaned forward until their faces were inches apart.
"Listen ta me carefully," he said calmly. "Are ya listening?"
Khalid grimly returned his stare. Kagain leaned closer, so much that their noses nearly touched and his thick beard scratched Khalid's chin.
"I," he said, his voice dropping to a loud whisper. "Don't give. A flying. Sodding. Shit. About the people. Ya get that?"
Khalid did not move a muscle. He stared blankly into the dwarf's blue eyes.
Kagain's beard lifted in a smile. He lifted a hand and patted Khalid twice on the cheek. The dwarf then slowly leaned back, turned and strode past Dorean back up the tunnel.
A long silence followed when the clunks of his boots faded away. It was abruptly broken by Montaron loudly biting into the salted beef Dorean had given him.
Giving a loud sigh that puffed out and deflated his thin chest, Dorean turned to face Khalid and shrugged his shoulders. "He's a mercenary."
Khalid lowered his head, and Dorean resisted the urge to take a step back when the former's stony glare momentarily turned to him. "That's no excuse."
Dorean blinked, and his brow furrowed as he tilted his head. "Were you a mercenary?"
Khalid's glare evaporated, and he looked away. "Yes."
Dorean blinked again. After a moment, he quietly went over and sat down next to Khalid. He took another draught from his water-skin, then leaned back against the tunnel wall. The silence between them stretched on for minutes, during which Khalid glanced at Montaron several times and avoided looking at Dorean.
"It was for a…a f-friend," he said at last.
Dorean looked up at him. Khalid hesitated, then slowly turned his head to look back. His face was pensive. "Before I m-met Gorion," he added.
They both looked at the Belt of Antipode.
"Earlier, before we were…" Dorean hesitated. "You said that you would help me get revenge. If that is what I want." Khalid lifted his eyes from the belt to look at him. Dorean kept his gaze down. "Would Jaheira want that as well?"
"More than me," Khalid replied, his words, soft yet firm and resolute.
Dorean paused, then nodded without smiling. After a moment, he slowly reached out and placed his right hand on Khalid's left.
"There's something I need to ask of you, Khalid. And I know you may not like it."
Khalid blinked and then drew himself up as he awaited Dorean's request.
"Xzar and Montaron," the dwarf said softly.
Khalid's eye-lids lowered, though he said nothing.
"I know your factions are enemies," Dorean continued. "I know they are…not the best people, and not to be trusted," He paused. "But they have risked themselves to protect us. Over and over. Back there, with that woman, when she stabbed you…" Dorean trailed off, releasing Khalid's hand and looking away. He closed his eyes, breathed deep, then opened them and gazed up at Khalid again. "I'm not asking you to trust them, or to let your guard down around them. All I'm asking is that they be given a chance. Even a half-chance, if possible."
Khalid blinked slowly, his face impassive. After a moment, he slowly looked away from Dorean to the silent, unmoving halfling sitting alone down the passage. Ten seconds passed. Khalid lowered his gaze to the floor and then back to Montaron again. He then stood up and, without picking up his sword and shield, slowly walked towards him. Dorean followed, keeping close behind.
Montaron gave no sign of noticing their approach; he chewed slowly on his beef ration, not stopping even when Khalid moved up beside him.
"You heard him," the Harper said, his words a statement rather than a question.
Montaron said nothing. His gaze remained fixed forward.
"He's right," Khalid added. "For the sake of e-everybody, we s-should try to make peace." He paused. "I can t-talk to my wife. Convince her to d-do the same."
Dorean and Khalid stood and waited. Montaron took another bite of beef, chewed slowly, and then swallowed it. He lowered the half-eaten ration and was completely still for a few seconds.
"Next time ye start a fight an' put us all in danger," he said slowly, his voice flat. "She'll die first."
Dorean immediately grabbed hold of Khalid's arm with both hands and used all his body weight to pull the man away.
Khalid's face had gone blank, exactly like when he saw Gorion's belt in High Hedge, and he stared at the back of Montaron's head as the dwarf dragged and pulled him back up the tunnel, leaving their weapons and packs behind.
The halfling slowly took a swig from the moonshine bottle and then placed it back on the ground, ignoring them both.
..
Stepping carefully over the pressure-plate, Kivan moved further into his cabin, sword lowered and at his side.
Two people, from the tracks. Smallfolk; gnome or halfling. One remained outside while the other entered.
His eyes swept over the cabin. Nothing had been set off, disturbed or even touched.
He stood very still for a moment, listening for the slightest sound. There was none save for the rustling of leaves and the chirps of birds and insects.
He then went to the bed, side-stepping several more pressure plates, and got down on his knees. The pack was still underneath it. He disabled the trap that would have sent wooden darts flying if the pack had been moved, then dragged it out from under the bed and put it on his shoulders.
Kivan then went to the weapons rack, moving around the hidden cover of the spiked pit-trap in the center of the cabin. He disarmed the three loaded crossbows hidden in the ceiling rafters before turning back to the rack and selecting one of four halberds. The crossbows clicked on empty chambers as he drew the weapon from the rack and slung it onto his back.
Discarding his sword, the wild elf then went to a corner of the cabin nearby one of the boarded-up windows, again avoiding more pressure-plates, and began removing a floor-board. He calmly leaped back as he pried it loose and two javelins, one from the opposite wall and the other from the ceiling, flew through the spot where he had been kneeling a half-second ago.
He had the long-bow in his hand and was reaching for an arrow quiver when a shrill, ear-splitting voice bellowed, "What is this?!"
Kivan spun around, loading and aiming the bow in an instant.
"This is the place thou presents for Tiax to rest thy feet?! 'Tis but a hovel, not fit even for the lowliest of beggars!"
It took Kivan a second to realize that the gnome was standing on the cover of the pit-trap. He blinked, but kept the bow nocked and steady.
"'Tis unacceptable!" Tiax declared, looking around the cabin in disgust. His pipe, still unlit, remained clenched in a corner of his brown beard between his teeth. "Thou must find a better residence for thy master!"
"Get out now or I will kill you."
"Thou dares threaten thy master?! The presumptuous nerve of- "
Kivan fired. The arrow flew beneath Tiax's ear, tore a layer of hair and skin from his cheek, and sank deep into the opposite wall, the force of its flight sending his hat flying off his head.
Tiax did not flinch. He froze, arms still raised in mid-gesticulation. He slowly brought a hand to his cheek, then moved it in front of his face. For a moment, his half-lidded eyes stared quietly at the blood on his fingers before looking up at the face behind the second arrow now aimed at his forehead.
The gnome and the wild elf looked at each other. Tiax then lowered his head, his half-closed eyes still fixed on Kivan's.
"Thou seeks the one known as Tazok."
Kivan's expression did not change, though he blinked at the utterance of the name. His long-bow shook, if only for a second.
"Thou hast been hunting him for decades. Thou hast come close to claiming him many, many times."
Kivan's face dropped.
"Thou hast travelled and hunted and worked and bled and suffered and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed for him. And now thou's quest hast brought thee here, to the land where swords hold back the sea."
Kivan suddenly became aware that he had lowered his bow. He brought it back up. His hands shook and the arrow wavered as he pointed it again at the gnome.
"Who are you and how do you know of me? Speak!"
The gnome's head lowered even further, and Kivan felt rather than saw him smile.
"Cyric sees all, servant. He has seen your struggle, and judged you worthy. You shall serve him by serving Tiax, and he will reward you greatly for your fealty."
"I will not serve the Mad God."
"Mad?" Tiax whispered. "Yes...they call Cyric mad, for they fear that which they do not understand. Cyric sees all and knows all, and they fear Cyric for his omniscience. Are there not those who say that Shevarash is mad?"
Kivan became very still. Tiax slowly lifted his head, staring past the arrow into the wild elf's eyes.
"Thou seeks Tazok. Does thou not know that he serves another?"
Slowly turning away, the little gnome began to pace back and forth, stepping over pressure-plates without looking at them and treading on the pit-trap cover without collapsing it. Kivan stared at him, still aiming the bow at the spot where he had been standing.
"Yes, servant," Tiax whispered. "They think Tiax does not know. They hide from him, and they lie." He stopped and looked at Kivan. "But Cyric is the master of lies. He sees all."
They looked at each other, and for a moment there was no sound, not even from the world outside.
"Tiax has been granted the glorious task of seeking them. Serve Tiax, servant, and Cyric will reward thee with Tazok…and more."
Kivan stared, frozen to the spot.
Raising his arms, Tiax clapped once, and three ghasts dropped silently through the trapdoor into the cabin, all avoiding the pressure plate directly below. They shuffled over to the weapons rack and removed the halberds, holding them deftly in their claws.
Kivan did not even glance at them. His eyes remained locked on Tiax. One of the ghasts picked up Tiax's hat and placed it on the gnome's head.
"Has thou lost the function of thy tongue?" Tiax asked softly, tilting his head to the side.
For a moment, Kivan did not move.
He then swallowed, the sound audible in the thick silence, and slowly lowered his bow.
..
Xzar hugged his knees to his chest, not looking up as Dorean and Khalid passed by him. "Wrong," he whispered. "Wrong."
Eldoth looked up from tuning his lute and frowned as he watched the wizard slowly rocking back and forth.
"She is all wrong, this is all wrong, she should not be here, they said nothing of her, why is she here why."
As abruptly as it started, Xzar's muttering stopped. He ceased rocking, staring quietly at his own knees.
Eldoth glanced at him for another moment before looking back down to his lute.
"The little one makes sense, he makes perfect, total, absolute, complete sense, she does not, no she does not, she is everything nothing why is she here why is she here."
This time, Eldoth kept his head down, glancing up at Xzar.
The wizard suddenly lowered his knees and leaned forward, clutching at his chest and breathing heavily.
Eldoth raised his head and lifted his back off the wall. He frowned as Xzar's mouth opened in a soundless scream.
"Are you- "
Xzar giggled. He fell onto his side, one hand still clutching his chest, and his body shook as he laughed.
Eldoth raised an eyebrow and then looked to his left.
Ajantis was staring at Xzar with wide eyes. Garrick had lifted his head from his pack and was blinking sleepily. Imoen looked up from her third pork ration, blinking repeatedly, and Khalid and Dorean both looked up from an apparent argument to stare at the mad wizard. Jaheira, however, did not react in the slightest. She remained still, eyes closed and hands resting on the quarterstaff across her lap.
Xzar's laughter echoed throughout the tunnel, drawing looks from the Dented Shield mercenaries. Eldoth's frown deepened upon seeing that none of them showed any sign of going over to silence him. He was just about to consider using a sleeping poison when Imoen stood up and walked over to Xzar.
The mad wizard looked up and froze, staring up at the girl with wide eyes. Without prompt or hesitation, Imoen sat down next to him.
For over a minute, there was no sound in the tunnel save for Imoen chewing her food. Xzar then sat up very slowly, head lowered and gaze directed at the floor, still and quiet.
Eldoth blinked several times, then lowered his head and went back to tuning his lute.
"I must admit," he quipped without looking up. "I find it odd that you seem more comfortable around him than you are of me."
"He's not the one with a moustache."
Eldoth looked up and scowled at her as Garrick, several mercenaries and even Ajantis broke out laughing.
Xzar did not react to anything. He continued to stare at the floor, hands on his lap and blinking slowly.
The medallion continued to throb against his chest, though, for now, it no longer seemed inclined to burn him.