Crypt of the Shadowking (22 page)

The innkeep himself brought them their supper—a rich meat stew, loaves of fresh, crusty brown bread, and a crock of soft, pale cheese. It was without doubt the best meal they had eaten since leaving the Dreaming Dragon, and Caledan felt his spirits lifting.

“Where’s Morhion?” Mari asked as they ate.

“That mage,” Estah said with a scowl. “He isn’t the least interested in eating. He’s upstairs with his nose buried in one of his musty old books. He mumbled something about needing to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Ferret asked.

The halfling shrugged. “Why, for battling the shadevar, I suppose.”

“I’ll take him a plate,” Mari said, dishing up some of the stew and slicing several pieces of bread.

“Good luck, Mari,” Estah said, patting her hand. “The gods know, I tried for years to get that man to eat enough without much luck. I don’t know what he subsists on. Ink fumes or some such thing, I suppose.”

Caledan watched Mari as she ascended the stairs, plate in hand. Why was the Harper so concerned about that infernal mage?

After a time Mari returned downstairs. She sat back down at the table where the companions were eating and picked at her stew.

After the supper dishes had been cleared they sat near the fire, discussing their plans for the next day. According to Tyveris’s map, the village of Asher was no more than a day’s ride to the northwest.

Man sighed and told the others she was going to turn in early. Estah noticed that she was rubbing her temples, as if she had a headache.

“Is something wrong, Man?” Estah asked in concern, but the Harper shook her head.

“I’m tired, that’s all,” Mari answered with a thin smile “Thanks, Estah.” Mari left the common room.

“Why don’t you go after her, Caledan?” Estah said softly, touching his arm gently. Ferret and Tyveris were engaged in a friendly argument of some sort and paying little attention to Estah and Caledan.

Caledan should have known he couldn’t hide his emotions from the healer. “I can’t, Estah,” he said almost angrily. How had he gotten himself into a situation like this? “Maybe the Harper and I do feel… something for each other. But both of us know that it’s not going to work.”

“Why?” Estah asked simply. “Why turn your back on love, Caledan?”

He shook his head, fidgeting with the copper bracelet on his left wrist. “I loved once, Estah. And I think maybe once was enough.”

“I’ve never heard such nonsense,” Estah said, her brown eyes flashing fire. “Why, you’re every bit as stubborn as she is.” She stood up, her hands resting firmly on her hips. “We all loved Kera very much,” she said quietly but firmly. “But someday, Caledan, you are going to have to take that bracelet off.”

Caledan stared at her in surprise, but the halfling turned on a heel with a flounce of her gray dress and marched up the stairwell.

The moon had not yet risen; the night was dark. It was Tyveris’s watch. The loremaster stood by the window while the others slept, gazing out over the village streets. He yawned, keeping his eyes peeled. He was determined not to fall asleep during his watch.

So intently was the loremaster’s attention focused outside, however, that he did not hear the faint stirring in the shadowed room behind him.

A form quietly slipped from one of the beds and stood in the dimness, clad only in a light robe of white. It was the Harper, Mari. Her eyes were open, but they stared blankly into the darkness, unblinking. Slowly, Mari reached down to the leather pack that lay next to her bed. She slipped something silently from the pack, then gripped it tightly in her hand. Sharp steel shone dimly in the dusky air.

Mari trod almost soundlessly on bare feet past the bed where Estah lay, deep in slumber. Tyveris did not turn from the window, nor did he see Mari step through the open doorway into the adjoining room. Moving stiffly, Mari strode past the bunks where Morhion and Ferret slept until she reached a low cot against the far wall.

Caledan lay sleeping before her.

He shifted in his slumber, making a low sound, but did not wake. Still staring blankly ahead, Mari lifted the dagger. She hesitated, her brow furrowing. But after several heartbeats her face hardened once more. Her grip on the hilt tightened as she poised the blade over Caledan’s bare chest.

And then she thrust the knife downward.

Fourteen

Caledan woke to the sound of a scream. It was a terrible, wordless cry of primal rage.

He leaped from the bed and stared at the scene before him. Tyveris was grappling with the Harper. She struggled furiously, trying to stab Tyveris with her dagger, but the loremaster held her tightly. Again Mari cried out in fury.

“By the gods, Tyveris, what is going on?” Caledan shouted. The others had risen now and were also staring at the strange scene in astonishment. Then Morhion spoke a word of magic, and the room was suddenly flooded with silvery light.

The big loremaster shook his head. “I was hoping someone could tell me, Caledan. I went to wake Ferret for the next watch and saw that Mari’s bed was empty. When came in here, I found her ready to bury this knife in your heart. I caught her hand just in time.” Caledan shook his head disbelievingly, his mind reeling

The Harper had meant to kill him?

“But Mari would never do such a thing,” Estah said, the halfling’s voice trembling.

“Wait,” Morhion said. “Can you not see it in her eyes?”

Indeed the Harper’s eyes were empty. Normally glowing with life and fire, they were instead as dark and dead as stone.

“What is it, Morhion?” Estah asked, wringing her hands. “What’s happened to her?”

The mage did not answer immediately. Gazing at the Harper, he muttered a few strange words as he touched her forehead. Suddenly she went limp in the loremaster’s arms, the dagger slipping from her fingers.

“She is under an enchantment,” the mage said.

Caledan helped Tyveris lay Mari down on the bed. Her eyes were closed now, her face was pale, her breathing shallow and rapid. “Enchantment?” Caledan wondered, turning toward the mage. “By whom? The shadevar?”

Morhion shook his head. “No, I do not think such would be within its powers. A Zhentarim sorcerer is the more likely culprit.”

Caledan swore.

“Estah, is there something you can do for her?”

The halfling healer laid a hand upon the Harper’s brow, then shook her head. “She’s burning with fever, but none caused by any sickness. It’s the magic that’s setting her blood afire.” She looked hesitantly at the mage, then back at Caledan. “Magic must be fought with magic.”

Caledan clenched his jaw, not looking at Morhion. The Harper moaned in the enchanted slumber the mage had cast upon her, her hands clutching at the bedsheets. “All right, mage, do what you must.” If you harm her… Caledan almost said, but he swallowed the words.

Morhion drew a small pouch from the pocket of his gray robe. He removed a dried leaf from the pouch, then opened the Harper’s mouth, placing the leaf beneath her tongue.

Caledan looked worriedly at Estah, but the halfling shook her head. She had no idea what the mage was doing. They would have to trust him.

Morhion rummaged in his pack until he found a flask of wine. He dipped his finger into the flask, then let three ruby-colored drops fall onto Mari’s brow. As the third drop fell he spoke several eerie, flowing words of magic. Suddenly the Harper cried out in pain.

“You’re hurting her!” Caledan cried, grabbing the mage’s arm, but Morhion shook off Caledan’s grip.

“Madrak ul madrakell” the mage intoned, and Mari’s eyes flew open. They were wide with confusion, but glimmering with life.

“What… what happened?” the Harper said weakly. She frowned and spit out the bitter-tasting leaf. She looked at the mage and Caledan in puzzlement.

Estah shook her head ever so slightly. The others exchanged meaningful looks. This incident was something Mari need never know of.

“We’re not sure,” Caledan told Mari. “The mage thinks there might be a sorcerer outside the inn, someone who means to do us ill. Whatever he was doing was making you … uh, sick. But the mage’s spell took care of that.”

Mari nodded weakly. “Thank you,” she said to Morhion, but the mage had already turned to gather his things.

“We must leave here immediately,” Morhion said, and for once Caledan agreed with him.

In minutes the companions were packed and ready to leave. Mari still looked a bit drawn, but she was standing firmly. “Can you make it?” Caledan asked.

She nodded, her face grim.

They found Brandebar in his nightshirt in the common room, a look of concern on his face. “What is it?” he asked.

“We’ve got to go, Brandebar,” Caledan told the innkeep.

“I want you to lock the door behind us. Don’t open it again until daylight Do you understand?”

“Is there someone out there who means you harm, milord?” Brandebar asked.

Caledan hesitated. “I believe so.”

“Then I think you should follow me.” The innkeep beckoned for them to go into the kitchen. Caledan looked at the others and then followed. In the corner of the kitchen Brandebar pulled up a wooden trapdoor. Caledan could see a ladder leading down into shadows.

“It’s a tunnel leading to the stables. Winters are bitter here, and I dug this one year so I could see to the horses without having to venture outside.”

Caledan grinned. “Brandebar, we owe you a debt.”

“You’ve paid me quite enough already, milord,” the innkeep said, beaming. “I’m just glad I could be of small service to such important folk. Now take care. I expect you to come calling at the inn again one day soon.”

They bid Brandebar farewell and then descended, one by one, into the earthen tunnel. It was crowded and damp inside, but after perhaps a hundred yards there was another ladder, this one leading up through a trapdoor in the stable’s floor.

When the horses were ready Ferret quietly opened the stable doors, and they rode out into the dark, windswept night. The moon had set; dawn was at least two hours distant. The only light was the faint glow of the stars. They rode north, avoiding the road that led from the village. They had covered half a mile when Ferret pulled his horse up next to Caledan’s.

“I don’t mean to worry you or anything,” the little thief said, “but I thought you might like to know that there are some shadows following us on the hills to our right and left.”

“Horsemen?” Caledan asked, and Ferret nodded.

“My guess is they’re waiting for us to ride into a ravine or gully—someplace good for an ambush. That’s what I’d do anyway.”

“What do you propose we do about them?” Caledan asked.

Ferret smiled, his crooked teeth glowing in the dimness. “Be ready,” he said, drawing a dagger from his belt. Caledan nodded, loosening his sword in its sheath as Ferret moved away to warn the others.

The attack came swiftly. The low trough in which they rode had gradually narrowed until finally ending in a steep wash. Before they could spur their mounts up the rocky slope, the night was shattered by battle cries.

In the dimness Caledan saw a dozen dark shapes rushing at them from the ridges to the right and left. Men on dark horses drew their swords, which glimmered dully in the starlight. One of the horsemen tumbled from the saddle as he rode, Ferret’s knife in his throat. Another fell to the ground next to him, clutching weakly at the crossbow bolt embedded in his side. Mari had hit her target and was frantically trying to reload.

Then the first of the horsemen reached them. Two lunged at Caledan. He parried one swing, then Mista reared up on her hind legs. She came crashing down, adding her strength to Caledan’s blow. His sword cleaved deep into one of the riders. Hot droplets of blood struck Caledan’s face. The rider slumped forward in the saddle as his mount galloped away. Caledan turned his attention to the other horseman.

Behind him, Tyveris ducked a horseman’s blow and then reached over, pulling the man bodily from the saddle with his massive arms. The loremaster’s shoulders bulged as he lifted the man and hurled him through the air. The man landed in a crumpled heap and did not rise again. Another attacker took the opportunity to swing at Tyveris, but a dagger appeared abruptly in his chest, and he fell screaming to the ground. Ferret was already drawing another dagger from his seemingly endless supply.

Mari guided her mount between Estah and the attacking horsemen, trying to aim her crossbow. She fired, but the bolt whistled harmlessly through the air. She took aim again, then swore in frustration. It was too chaotic, and she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t hit one of her companions instead of one of the horsemen.

Caledan managed to fell his second attacker, then looked up to see a horseman fly from his mount as a brilliant, cobalt blue bolt of light exploded against his chest. Caledan cast a glance at the mage, but Morhion was deep in concentration, readying another spell. Caledan grunted. At least the mage could carry his own weight in a battle. There were only five horsemen left now, and Caledan sensed the tide was turning.

Suddenly a sound split the air. A sphere of searing crimson brilliance burst apart in the night. Then came a boom like thunder. The companions scattered, their mounts skittering away from the magical inferno. It was sheer luck that the flames did not engulf them.

“Beware sorcery!” Morhion shouted above the din of the battle. Caledan glanced up and saw a figure silhouetted against the dark sky on a low rise. So that was the source of the magical fire. He tried to break Mista away from the battle, to ride up the hill, but his opponent rained a flurry of fierce blows upon him, and Caledan was forced to stop and parry.

He heard Morhion muttering another spell, but the mage’s words were cut short as a horseman bore down on him. Morhion drew a small dagger, prepared to defend himself. Caledan looked up to see the sorcerer on the ridgetop gesturing wildly.

Abruptly the sorcerer staggered backward, his spell going wild. A trail of fire arced high overhead, bursting in a flash of crimson light that momentarily illuminated the battle scene as though it were day. Then the magical fire faded into darkness. Sparks drifted down like fireflies. On the hilltop, the sorcerer crumpled. Caledan glanced to his side and saw Mari lowering her crossbow. He reminded himself to compliment the Harper on her good aim.