by Edward Bolme
Kehrsyn looked even more confused than she had when he was yelling at her. Before she could say anything, however, Ahegi stepped back into the room.
"My lord," he said, "a moment of thy time."
Massedar glanced at Ahegi, looked back at Kehrsyn, and clenched one fist as if trying to grasp an opportunity slipping away.
"But a moment, lovely one," Massedar said to Kehrsyn with a regretful nod, "and but a moment only, for I must attend to this."
He turned and strode briskly out of the room, all tenderness cast aside for a powerful, martial motion, leaving through the double doors through which Demok and Kehrsyn had entered.
Ahegi cast an eye after Massedar as he left, then shut the doors. He thrust his chin at Kehrsyn.
"Search ye her," he growled.
"What?" asked Kehrsyn, all the more nervous, for Ahegi looked even more familiar with that menacing look upon his face. "Why?"
Ahegi said nothing.
Kehrsyn's thoughts flashed to the counterfeit staff, thrust through her sash at the small of her back. Startled by Massedar's aggressive demeanor, she'd already admitted that she was still looking for the real thing. If the forgery were to be found, she'd have a lot more explaining to do. Under such duress, she had no desire to reveal that she had it to that vile man. She would reveal the decoy on her terms and benefit from it. She wished Massedar hadn't left. Clearly he was far too powerful a man for his advisor to dare such a humiliating search in his presence.
"Fine," said Kehrsyn with a shrug, mustering all the nonchalance she could. "I have nothing to hide. But I'm going to tell him you had me searched."
"No," said Ahegi, raising one eyebrow, "thou shalt not."
Something in the threatening way he said that hit Kehrsyn hard in the heart and ensured that she would remain silent.
The two guards who had escorted her upstairs moved in to inspect her. Kehrsyn undid the clasp of her cloak, let it down over her shoulders, and swung it behind her. As she did so, she pushed the staff out from her sash with one hand and took it into the other, all concealed by the cloak's material. She brought the cloak forward but stepped on the hem, nearly pulling it from her hand and giving her a chance to slide the staff into her right boot. She handed the cloak to a guard, who shook it, checked the inside for pockets, and dropped it to the floor.
Kehrsyn held out her arms as they patted her down, wincing as one guard ran his hand across the burn on the back of her left arm. One guard patted the place between her shoulder blades as well, but thankfully she'd not opted for that hiding place.
Before Ahegi could suggest it, she pulled off her boots. First she pulled off the left one, held it up, shook it, and tossed it to one guard. As she pulled off the right boot, she took the opportunity to glower at Ahegi. It attracted his attention to her eyes and away from her hands. She used her left middle finger to pull open the cuff at her right hand, and her right thumb to keep the staff in place. She raised that boot up, inverting it as she had the last, and the staff slid into her sleeve. She tossed the boot to a guard. Then, with the staff wedged between the heel of her hand and the crook of her elbow, she stood, hands on hips, while the guards patted down her leggings.
Once they finished, she picked up her cloak with her left hand, shook it, brushed it, and folded it up, sliding the staff out of her sleeve and into the folds before someone noticed the odd shape of her shirt.
She walked over to one wall, tossed the cloak unceremoniously on the floor under a chair, sat down upon it, and said, "Can I have my boots back now, or are you going to stand there and smell them?"
The guards shrugged and handed Kehrsyn her boots. No sooner had she put them back on than Massedar returned. She smiled in relief, stood, and subconsciously moved closer to him, feeling safe once more, perhaps even protected. She looked around the room, and the guards avoided eye contact-everyone except Demok, who studied her, one thumb running back and forth across his lower lip.
"Forgive thou me for that interruption, Mistress Kehrsyn," said Massedar, "as well as for my unseemly outburst earlier. Let us begin afresh, shall we?"
"Sure," she said with a timid smile and a hostile glance at Ahegi.
Massedar clasped his hands together in front of his sternum in a position that was somewhere between martial and supplicating.
"I have been ill pleased that thou hast no further tidings to impart unto me," he said. "Thy absence maketh me to fret for thy sake and as well vexeth me for the fate of the staff which thou hast yielded into the hands of others."
"Well, I think I have an idea where your magic wand might be, but I'm not yet sure who's really behind it all."
"Let my guards be sent to investigate directly."
"I'd rather you didn't," said Kehrsyn. "This situation needs a delicate touch, and I think maybe I can get it back for you without anyone finding out I did it."
"If anyone might succeed, thou, who hast purloined it, shall surely meet with favor," said Massedar with a wry smile. "Tell me, then, who holdeth my goods."
"Well, it's not Furifax and his people, for sure," Kehrsyn said. "The church of Tiamat had a hand in it, but I don't think they have it, either. I think it's someone else, some group working with them."
Massedar looked around the room and asked, "Hath anyone amongst us a suggestion?"
"The Red Wizards stand guilty of all manner of ill-doing," said Ahegi. "Their hunger for magic is boundless. It surely lieth upon their heads."
"No, I know it's not the Red-" began Kehrsyn.
"Submit thou not to their treachery," said Ahegi. "Such a path, though seemly, dealeth hardly with the inexperienced."
Kehrsyn hesitated, wondering if she should reveal her dealings with Eileph.
In that pause, Demok spoke up with a single word: "Zhentarim."
Ahegi scoffed, "Yea, that brotherhood doth weigh with unbalanced scales, but of what use is such a prize to merchants of food?"
"Ties with Bane," said Demok. "The caravans serve the church. God of Death. He'd love the staff."
"Art thou familiar with which Banites do dwell within the city?" pressed Ahegi.
Demok's hands moved to the hilts of his blades.
"Hold!" bellowed Massedar. He turned to Demok. "Thou wouldst have me believe Bane here in Messemprar acting in concert with Tiamat? Such webs are spun only by spiders.
"And Ahegi, thou namest Demok a Banite?" he added lightly, turning to his advisor. "Thou seest the hands of thine enemies raised against thee all about."
Kehrsyn watched the exchange with interest, gauging the voice and expressions of all three. Ahegi and Demok wanted to continue the debate, but clearly Massedar wanted the subject dropped. Did he suspect Bane might have an agent among his people? If so, publicly disregarding such thoughts would put the agent more at ease.
"I think you're both wrong," hazarded Kehrsyn. "Tiamat always opposed Gilgeam, even killed him, right? And no one would willingly let Bane here. I mean, he's a foreign deity, right?" She looked around for support but found only hard eyes upon her, excepting Massedar's gaze, which was much softer. "So I think that whether it's Tiamat or Bane, they're just helping the real enemy: the Pharaoh of Mulhorand. They deliver this to the Mulhorandi army, it helps them take Messemprar, and whoever it was that helped out, they get to rule Unther under the Mulhorandi banner. Doesn't that make sense?"
Silence hung in the room.
"Perfectly," said Massedar. "Kehrsyn," he said, "thou standest against the shadowy hand of the pharaoh. To thy duties: I have retained thee for the recovery of my own property. Thou shalt apprise me of thy progress. At the least, each eve shalt thou return here and thereafter to bed in a room which I shall have prepared for thee." He moved closer to her, reached out, and gripped her upper arms in his hands, saying, "Thy future-"
A flare of heat and pain ripped through Kehrsyn's left arm as his fingers massaged her burn. She cried out and jerked herself out of his hands, dragging the burn through his powerful fingers. Her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor, h
er right hand clutching her left arm just below the shoulder, and she scooted away from Massedar.
For a moment, nothing existed but the pain in her arm as it exploded in a surf of fire, but, as her sight returned, she saw Massedar kneel down beside her. She couldn't read his expression through her teary eyes, but his words carried through the ringing in her ears.
"What is the matter? Speak thou!" His voice seemed at once concerned and demanding.
"They burned me." Kehrsyn forced the words out evenly. "The back of my arm, right where you…"
She saw Massedar look at his right hand, rub the fingers together, and smell them. He looked at the back of her left sleeve, then snapped his fingers again.
"Healers!" he ordered, then he leaned closer to Kehrsyn, his voice almost a whisper. "Why didst thou not tell me?"
"It's just a little burn," she answered.
"None of the land," he replied. "I have but small hopes it is not festered. My best shall attend thee, for I vouchsafe merciful provision on those close unto me. Arise thou," he said, "and be healed within thy room, that nothing shouldst mar thy smile."
He gently helped her to her feet and escorted her from the room. Kehrsyn cast a desperate, sidelong glance at her cloak, wrapped around the counterfeit staff and laid under the chair, but Demok stepped forward and picked it up, tucking it under an arm.
Massedar took her to a private room furnished with a comfortable bed, a nightstand with a few drawers and topped by a candle, and a mirror and washbasin. The stand beside the washbasin held a brush and several scented toiletries. These at once thrilled and mortified Kehrsyn, who had never been able to indulge in such luxuries as perfumes and fine soaps and lotions and balms, and who therefore had no idea which might be which, let alone the proper uses and applications.
Demok tossed her cloak on the floor beneath her bed and left the room without another word, leaving her alone with Massedar for a few nervous heartbeats until the healers came, a craggy old man and a half-elf woman with thin, flat hair.
The men discreetly turned their backs while the half-elf helped Kehrsyn out of her jersey. She then wrapped Kehrsyn's torso in a plush towel for modesty, and the healers inspected the burn.
Massedar sat on the edge of the bed next to Kehrsyn.
"Would that thou mightest abide here after the end of this affair of the staff," he said, an earnest softness in his eyes. After a scant breath, he blinked rapidly and turned his head. "What I mean to say," he said more formally, "is that Wing's Reach requireth someone of thy qualities, someone of great skill at infiltration. Thou couldst be of great service to me, a benefit for which I would reward thee greatly."
He turned to meet her gaze once more, adding, "Thou needest only to name thy price and it shall be thine, for thou art indeed a priceless treasure. And if thou wouldst help to secure our house against others of thy skill, I shall give to thee all authority within these walls, to command as you saw fit, save only me."
Kehrsyn shook her head, then tensed as the healers peeled away some dead skin from her burn.
Once the pain had passed, she asked, "Why would you give all that to me? I stole from you, and you've only known me, what, two days?"
"That question affirmeth what I have suspected of thee. Thou hast a true and honest heart, one that remaineth innocent and pure despite thy calling."
"Well, I'm not really a thief. It's not like that's something I really want to do. I mean, they made me, you know," said Kehrsyn.
"These things I know," he said. "Thou art great of heart and frame, and I sense within thy breast the beating of a heart true to Unther and her people, a heart that opposeth the march of Mulhorand and seeketh to thwart the vainglory of its pharaoh."
Kehrsyn's eyes narrowed and she cursed, "Oath breakers. Neither empire was ever to cross the River of Swords. They deserve to-"
Massedar held up a hand to silence her and said, "Prithee, no, I would fain not hear curses from thy lips."
The half-elf healer glanced over at Massedar, and he nodded, permitting her to interrupt.
"The flesh is badly burnt, my lord. We can use such abilities as we have. Full healing will take either time or one of thy ointments."
"She shall suffer not any impairment, for her duties shall be far too important," he said. "Pour thou out what ointments might be needful."
The half-elf took Kehrsyn's arm and turned it so that the burn was easily accessible to her associate. Kehrsyn saw the older healer draw a fine crystal vial from his satchel, finely cut and sealed with a gemlike crystal stopper yet so small that it could hold no more than perhaps a dram in volume. Inside, she saw a pearlescent liquid of bluish hue, thick and milky. She craned her neck to watch as the elder healer unstoppered the vial and raised it to her arm.
He dribbled a few drops out of the vial, aimed so they alighted just at the top edge of her burn. As the thick, gooey drops struck the injured skin, they spread rapidly across the burn like oil on water, coating the entire burn with a faintly luminous layer. The burned flesh began to throb, but it was the healthy sensation of vivacity and youth, a muscle exerting to the fullest.
"I thought it would be an ointment of aloe," Kehrsyn gasped, "but this is magic… I don't deserve-"
"Thou deservest not such treatment?" interrupted Massedar. "I protest thou dost. Thou, lovely maiden, art perhaps the most valuable of my house, the sole here who canst my wand recover."
Kehrsyn looked again at the burn, as best as she could. The damage slowly faded as if it was a knitted shawl unraveling before her eyes. Her arm no longer sent her signals of discomfort and injury. The lack of feeling itself felt great, and the vibrant energy that suffused her muscle made her smile.
"I don't understand," she said. "That's so expensive. Why?"
Massedar took a deep breath, and within his eyes Kehrsyn saw a decision slip into place.
"What hast thy former lord said unto thee in regard to the item that thou hast purloined?"
"Well, no one really knows exactly what it is," said Kehrsyn, "but they say it's got… necromancy? And some say it's the Necromancer's Staff, made by some powerful wizard a long time ago."
Massedar sighed in relief and said, "It is good that none truly know, else all would be lost. But thou, thou must know that the import of thy task shall press thee onward to success."
He kneeled on the floor in front of her, facing her fully and setting her to wonder, ridiculously, if he was about to propose.
"The truth is far more terrible than thou hast been led to believe," he said. "This work is called the Alabaster Staff. It is an item of legend, tales so old that they are now all but forgotten. The high necromancer Hodkamset didst set to imitate it, in hopes of securing for himself its repute, and created his Staff of the Necromancer, but truly, where his staff is five times as long as this, this work is fifty and five times as powerful.
"The Alabaster Staff is some four thousand years old or more, forged on another world by the ancient gods of our people and imbued with their power. The Alabaster Staff hath within it the authority to command the dead, raising them unto a semblance of life and binding them unto the will of the bearer.
"Make thou not such a face, young mistress. Think thou of Unther! As our army engageth the Mulhorandi army and the enemy is made to fall, those slain shall rise again to serve us, therewith to smite their living brethren and to add again to our ranks. We can drive the Mulhorandi from this ground with their own army!"
Kehrsyn shivered and said, "That sounds horrid, making the dead walk like that."
Massedar nodded and replied, "Truly, it is a dark summoning, but to see their brethren turn and fight against them is a just reward for their betrayal of Unther. Breaking a sacred pact that hath stood since the dawn of our civilizations, they crossed the River of Swords, and all that shall befall them shall lie upon their heads."
"But…" began Kehrsyn.
"The foot of Pharaoh Horustep of Mulhorand standeth upon the neck of Unther," interrupted Massedar. "Nothing
must be spared to save our empire, for if we fail, the entire nation shall be yoked into slavery."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Once Massedar and the healers had left, Kehrsyn sagged against a wall and slumped to the floor with a heavy sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to figure out what had happened to the simple life she had once led. So much had changed, she could hardly remember it.
Kehrsyn didn't know what to do in her newfound home. That Massedar had decreed her presence did not change the fact that she was unused to such treatment and felt out of place. She had gone from being an intruder, to being an agent, to being thoroughly searched, to being embraced and healed, all in the space of two days.
She put her shirt back on, tossing her towel on the bed. She pulled her cloak out from under the bed and saw that Demok had placed it there in almost exactly the same position as she had placed it on the floor of the reception room. Such meticulous care struck her as odd, but she was thankful that the false staff was still safely tucked away in its shroud. She pulled it out and ran her finger around the crack in the handle, feeling the slight roughness of the finish. She couldn't help but admire Eileph's craftwork. It must have taken some fine magic to reassemble it so solidly. She tucked it away in her cloak and slid it back under the bed.
Shy and nervous, she left her room and timidly walked to the kitchen and dining area. She asked about meals and ended up with bread and cold, spicy gravy to tide her over until supper. Though the others were polite enough, they looked askance at her when they thought she wasn't looking. Her sharp ears picked up their whispers, many of which insinuated less than honorable activities between her, Massedar, Ahegi, and others. Her ears burning in shame, she retired to her room to stare out the window at the cold rain and sort out her thoughts.
The city guard swept the streets of the excess refugees, breaking her reverie. They moved sullenly about their task in the numbing downpour, rousting the refugees, who were loath to yield up whatever mean shelter they had found under overhanging eaves.