The beast jerked and tried to move farther away, but the wounds Vambran and the others had dealt to it hindered it sufficiently that it was not fast enough. As it staggered across the floor, a cascade of white spilled down over it, like fine white sand spilling free of a broken hourglass. Vambran looked up and saw a flash of red cloth, along with a barrel being tipped over onto its side, more of the white stuff tumbling out in an ever more rapid flow.
Salt, Vambran realized. And it was burning the creature. The beast shivered and flailed madly about, trying to shake free of the powdery substance, but its slimy exterior simply let the salt cling to it, and everywhere the stuff touched the monster, there was a sizzling sound. The creature jerked and spun, trying to bat away the salt as it continued to cascade down, and it was on the floor, jerking, spasming, burning. As the last of the salt poured out of the barrel, Vambran's red-clad savior let the container slip over the side and tumble down to land atop the monster, shattering.
The beast lay still. Vambran heaved a great sigh of relief and sagged to the floor, gasping in exhaustion. He tried to wipe the sweat and blood from his face, but his arms felt like lead.
"Please," he called out, "I need help. My sergeants might be dying."
There was no response from above.
Vambran couldn't walk, so he forced himself to crawl across the floor toward Adyan. It was a monumental struggle. Finally the lieutenant reached his companion and, with the last vestiges of his strength, he slipped his hand atop the other man's chest. Vambran sank his head down on his arms and closed his eyes. Then, in barely a whisper, he murmured a healing prayer, not even knowing if it was already too late. As the last words passed his lips, he felt the magic flow from him and to the sergeant, then he let blackness wash over him and settled into unconsciousness.
"Uncle Kovrim!" Emriana called from the shadows. She could see the priest walking furtively toward the warehouse her brother and his two companions had entered nearly an hour before. The priest was accompanied by five other figures, one of whom was a stout dwarf, and by the light of the lanterns they carried as they approached, the girl quickly recognized the emblem of the Sapphire Crescent on their tabards.
"I'm over here," she said, making herself visible.
Kovrim and his retinue quickened their steps and closed the distance with her. When he was near enough, Emriana ran to her uncle and hugged him tightly.
"They haven't come out, yet," she told the priest, pointing to the window the three mercenaries had used to get inside. "I heard fighting, and now nothing. Something terrible has happened, I just know it!"
Kovrim gave his niece a calming pat on her head.
"It's all right. We're here, now. You did the right thing, summoning me." He looked to the five mercenaries and jerked his head. "Get in there and see what's what. And be careful."
The dwarf, a sergeant in the company named Grolo Firefist, gave a quick nod.
"Yes, sir," he said in a deep, resonating voice. He turned to the other four and began to give orders. "All right, you heard the man. Let's get in there. No, not the window; I'm not climbing through that. Find the front entrance and let's get the doors open. Move it!"
As the soldiers leaped to obey, Kovrim stepped back and eyed Emriana up and down, his lips pursed in a frown. She blushed slightly in the semidarkness, feeling very foolish at the moment. She was dressed in her dark clothing, a snug black shirt and a pair of breeches. She also had a very fine crossbow that was diminutive in size but could be slung easily onto her back by a long leather strap. Kovrim had actually given her that when she was a few years younger, a delicate weapon that she could cock and fire as a youth.
"I knew he would do something like this," the girl told her uncle, trying to divert his attention away from her.
"And so you did exactly the same thing?" he asked, but she could hear no real recrimination in his voice.
Emriana simply shrugged and turned back to the soldiers making their way around the building. She watched the soldiers looking for an easier way inside, and she and Kovrim followed them, the priest with his arm around her shoulders. It didn't take long for the mercenaries to break inside the warehouse and begin to check for threats. Kovrim and Emriana waited outside.
Finally, Grolo returned to the entrance and called, "It's all clear."
The girl darted forward the moment she heard the dwarf's first words.
"Is he all right?" she asked, not stopping to wait for an answer as she scampered inside.
She never saw the sergeant's nod.
Emriana found Vambran lying face down, being carefully examined by one of the other members of the company. She dropped down next to her brother, looking for some reassuring sign from the man tending to him.
"He'll live," the soldier said, "though he needs treatment from the priest. Same for the other two," he added. "Though how they lived, I don't know. They're each hanging by a thread."
Emriana began to shake her brother, calling to him. Vambran regained consciousness as she rolled him over onto his back.
"Hello, Em," he said, blinking in confusion in the light. "What are you doing here?"
"Shut up," Emriana scolded as she hugged her brother. "If it weren't for me, you'd probably be dead by now."
Kovrim knelt down beside Vambran.
"Let me look at you," he said, gently moving Emriana a little to one side so he could see how severe the lieutenant's wounds were.
Vambran didn't complain as his uncle checked him out. Gently, Kovrim settled his palm on Vambran's forehead and reverently spoke a prayer of healing. Some color returned to Vambran's face, and he began to breathe easier. Emriana found a bit of cloth the other soldier had left beside her brother, picked it up, and began to dab at his face with it. She wiped the blood from his eyes and sat back.
"You'll live. That's twice today, Vambran," the priest said, shaking his head. He rose to his feet. "And now my attentions are needed elsewhere."
"Adyan? Horial?" Vambran asked weakly, looking at his sister.
"The dwarf said they made it," Emriana said. "Though he doesn't understand how."
"Good," Vambran said, and he closed his eyes in relief as the girl continued to wipe the blood from his face. "I didn't know if I got to them in time. I led them here, into a trap, and they nearly paid for my foolishness with their lives."
He shook his head in anger as he struggled to sit up.
Emriana glanced over to where the dwarf was standing, staring down at the remains of something, holding his nose as he inspected it. He nudged it once with the toe of his boot.
Kovrim moved over to what the sergeant was looking at and made a face.
"Leechwalker," he said distastefully. "Don't see that in the city every day. Someone brought it here."
"So that was some quick thinking, calling Uncle Kovrim," Vambran said, "even though you're supposed to be at home."
"This pendant isn't such a bad birthday present," Emriana said, grinning and ignoring her brother's scolding.
Vambran looked up at his uncle and said, "The red stranger was here tonight, too."
"The one from today, who assisted you at lunch?" Kovrim asked.
Emriana looked around.
"Maybe he's still here," she added, worried.
"I doubt it," her brother said. "And it's a woman, not a man. She spoke this time. Whoever she is, she doesn't want to be found. But that's strange. Really strange. She's apparently following me."
Shaking his head, Vambran looked at his sister again.
"And what are you supposed to be?" he asked, nodding at Emriana's outfit. "A spy? Where's your mask?"
"What? You don't like it? I thought I looked rather sinister. Came in handy enough to keep you from noticing me following you."
Vambran rolled his eyes and asked, "And why were you following me?"
"Because I know you. Even though you say there's no chance to go investigating, I figure that's exactly what you've got planned. Only you're going to go with your buddies ins
tead of me. So I decided to tag along."
"You followed me all night?" The lieutenant asked wearily, finally climbing to his feet. "Dressed like that?"
"Hey, it worked. And yes, to the Crying Claw and over here."
"If Uncle Dregaul finds out, he's going to-"
"Don't start lecturing me," the girl retorted. "You're just as guilty of sneaking off as I am. I thought you were only going to take care of company business tonight."
Vambran groaned and said, "Well, I did. This just happened to be part of the evening, also."
"Well, I was right not to trust you to be honest with me, so you've got no right to yell at me."
"Fair enough," her brother replied, and Emriana was surprised that he didn't put up more of a fight than that. "But you still should have worn a mask." She looked at him sharply, and he gave her a sidelong glance accented by a smug grin. "The question is, can you sneak back inside without Uncle Dregaul noticing?"
"The only way Uncle Dregaul finds out is if you tell him, in which case you have to tell him what you were doing here, too. And I don't think that's something you're quite ready to confess, is it?"
Vambran sighed and waved his hands in surrender.
"All right, you win. But you're on your own if you do get caught."
Emriana didn't say anything, just gave her brother a smug look.
"Well," Vambran continued, changing the subject, "someone sure didn't want me to talk to these thugs. I should have realized whoever is behind this would kill again to protect their dirty little secret."
"Vam," Emriana said, giving her brother the most serious look she could conjure. "You scared the hells out of me tonight."
Vambran nodded and said, "I know. I'm sorry. It was a blunder of me to underestimate these people. Twice." He eyed her right back, his expression severe. "You realize that, if I had let you come with me instead of them, it would be you and me lying here bloodless, right?"
Emriana gave a little shudder as she considered the possibility. She shook her head.
"And there would have been no one watching your back to come to the rescue," she said. "But that's not how it ended up. We're all alive, and the thing's dead."
"Right, thanks to some mysterious red-clad benefactor. Em, this is getting out of hand."
"You don't know the half of it," Kovrim said, coming to stand beside the two siblings again. "This whole thing does indeed have temple connections."
"What?" Vambran blurted out, drawing a sharp look from the mercenaries, who were in the process of carrying out the still unconscious sergeants. "How do you know?"
"Because," Kovrim replied grimly, "I had a conversation with Grand Trabbar Lavant tonight. He didn't deny it. I was surprised, to say the least."
"How can he justify murder?" Vambran said, his voice a bit softer, but no less vehement.
"He didn't. At least he claimed not to condone it. But let's not talk in here. Eavesdroppers might be about. It's already happened at least once, I think."
Emriana spun around, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. "I thought your men said it was all clear!" she said, trepidation making her shake. "Who's still here? Vambran's mysterious rescuer?"
"Calm down, Em," Kovrim admonished. "I meant magical eavesdroppers. Scrying and the like. I'll explain why when we're a safe distance away."
The trio took a walk, leaving the rest of the cleanup business to the mercenaries. Vambran stopped quickly before they departed the warehouse, fetching Emriana's dagger and returning it to her. Then they began to walk through the misty evening, making their way in the general direction of the temple.
Kovrim continued his revelation as they strolled.
"What Grand Trabbar Lavant told me was, the temple is on the verge of negotiating a very lucrative business opportunity, and the murders were an ill-advised cover-up on someone else's part to eliminate something standing in its way. He assured me that the guilty parties were being suitably punished, and he just felt that there was no good reason to bring the authorities into it, drag the whole thing before the public eye, and ruin the chance to complete the deal."
"That's absurd," Vambran said, shaking his head. "The Lady herself would never approve of such underhanded business tactics."
"I agree," Kovrim said, "but the fact remains that you're inadvertently butting heads with the temple, now. Regardless of the morality of your actions, you're taking your career's future in your hands. You need to be very careful how you proceed."
"Are you suggesting that I stop? Give it up and trust the Grand Trabbar to see to it that justice is served?"
"Not necessarily," Kovrim began.
"Good, because there's no way I'm leaving this alone now," Vambran replied angrily. "The man and woman who were murdered were servants of House Pharaboldi. Her name was Jithelle, a kitchen maid, and his was Hoytir, a stable hand. Apparently, Denrick Pharaboldi was seeing her on the sly. Em found that out today."
Kovrim whistled and said, "That sheds some unusual light on the whole affair."
"Exactly," Vambran replied. "And seeing as how our two Houses are so friendly right now-Em was, in fact, there for a social tea-I think it behooves me to make sure we as a family are not getting involved with someone untrustworthy or willing to commit murder to further their business causes."
Kovrim nodded and said, "I agree. But you still need to be particularly cautious. You don't want to draw any more of the temple's attention to yourself in this way."
"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Emriana said, nodding back the way they had come. "You brought a squad of mercenaries who answer to the temple with you tonight. Word is bound to get around."
Kovrim looked at the girl with surprised admiration.
"Very good point, Em." He smiled and continued, "But in this case, not a worry. Those are some of my most trusted soldiers. We already discussed the need for silence on this matter. They are working tonight strictly freelance."
"Excellent. And Adyan and Horial know to do the same," Vambran said. "At least, once I get a chance to talk to them. Perhaps we can make sure Grolo takes care of that."
"I'm sure we can arrange that," Kovrim answered. "I'll speak to him later. But for now, here's what I think you should do next. If this is the same Jithelle I think you're talking about, I know her mother, Nimra Skolotti. A sweet old woman, and likely wondering what really happened to her poor daughter. She might know something useful, so I think you two should go visit her tomorrow and see what you can find out."
Vambran nodded and Emriana said, "Oh, the poor woman. Maybe it would make her feel a little better if she knew someone was trying to clear Jithelle's name."
"Precisely," their uncle said. "In the meantime, I'll do a little more digging-very subtle digging, mind you-to see what I can find out about potential business opportunities with House Pharaboldi. If I turn anything useful up, I'll let you know."
Vambran turned to face his uncle. "Thank you, sir, for everything you've done so far."
Emriana stepped in and gave the priest a hug.
"Yes," she said, "thank you so much for coming tonight. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't been able to reach you."
"You two just be careful," replied Kovrim. "This isn't a game we're playing, here."
"Damn it!" Grozier snarled as he watched Kovrim, Vambran, and the girl exit the warehouse. "Follow them!"
The wizard Bartimus shook his head.
"I can't," he said, shrinking away from his employer's angry gaze. "I focused the spell on Dressus; it goes where he goes."
Grozier threw up his hands in frustration and began to pace.
"Well, that clinches it, then," he said. "They're uncovering far too much, and furthermore, they know that we're watching them. You heard the priest say as much."
Bartimus nodded, though he didn't think that Grozier saw the gesture, and furthermore, didn't care. The less attention paid to him, the better, as far as the wizard was concerned.
"I've got to talk to the oth
ers. That damned mercenary is proving more resourceful than I expected, especially when he has so many friends and family to aid him. He's got too many resources."
"Pardon, sir," Bartimus said, wondering why he would dare to question his employer's logic. "But why don't we take those resources away from him?"
"What?" Grozier asked harshly, scowling and looking at the wizard as though he had just noticed him for the first time. "What are you talking about?"
Bartimus took a deep breath, then said, "The high priest outranks all of them. I'm sure he could arrange it so that the mercenary can't draw on fellow soldiers or his uncle for help. In fact, that may have been what Lavant intended from the beginning, and we didn't give him a chance to put it into motion."
Grozier cocked his head, regarding the wizard with approval.
"Why don't you offer up these kinds of insights more often?" he asked.
Bartimus cringed, but said, "Because you usually just yell at me when I do."
"Yes," Grozier replied with a sigh. "I suppose I do. All right, I'll try to control that. You just keep doing more thinking. I like it."
"All right," Bartimus said, stunned.
"In the meantime, I think we need to move up our meeting. Let everyone know."
"Yes, sir," Bartimus replied, already moving through his study to fulfill his employer's request.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vambran strolled along inconspicuously, following the woman as she made her way carefully through the market and holding on to the younger woman's arm who was escorting her. The mercenary had been following the pair for a while, watching as they shopped for fresh vegetables in the lines of stalls that filled the open square. The day was bright and crisp, somewhat cooler than it had been the day before, but still the sun was warming to the lieutenant's skin as he kept pace with his quarry.
Vambran had tracked down Jithelle's mother easily enough from the instructions Kovrim provided him the night before, getting up early and making his way to the east side of the city, where the less affluent neighborhoods were. He had no trouble finding the small house, really an apartment on the second story of a rug merchant's shop, where Nimra Skolotti and her youngest daughter Mirolyn lived. Initially, he intended to just visit the woman directly, but then caution got the better of him, and he decided to wait. If he was being followed, or watched in some other way, perhaps it would be better not to draw undue attention to the grieving mother.
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