Promise of the Witch King ts-2

by Robert Anthony Salvatore

  He was thinking of Herminicle and the tower outside of Heliogabalus.

  He was looking at Arrayan.

  Jarlaxle looked that way too, and he stared at Entreri until he at last caught the assassin's attention. He offered a helpless shrug and glanced back at the woman.

  "Don't even think it," Entreri warned in no ambiguous voice. He turned away from Jarlaxle and strode to the woman and her brutish bodyguard.

  * * * * *

  An amused Jarlaxle watched him every step of the way.

  "A fine flute you crafted, Idalia the monk," he whispered under his breath.

  He wondered if Entreri would agree with that assessment or if the assassin would kill him in his sleep for playing a role in the grand manipulation.

  * * * * *

  "I would have a moment with you," Entreri said to Arrayan as he approached.

  Olgerkhan eyed him with suspicion and even took a step closer to the woman.

  "Go and speak with Commander Ellery or one of the dwarves," Entreri said to him, but that only made the brutish half-orc widen his stance and cross his arms over his massive chest, scowling at Entreri from under his pronounced brow.

  "Olgerkhan is my friend," Arrayan said. "What you must say to me, you can say to him."

  "Perhaps I wish to listen more than speak," said Entreri. "And I would prefer if it were just we two. Go away," he said to Olgerkhan. "If I wanted to harm Arrayan, she would already be dead."

  Olgerkhan bristled, his eyes flaring with anger.

  "And so would you," Entreri went on, not missing a beat. "I have seen you in battle—both of you—and I know that your magical repertoire is all but exhausted, Lady Arrayan. Forgive me for saying, but I am not impressed."

  Olgerkhan strained forward and seemed as if he would leap atop Entreri.

  "The book is draining you, stealing your life," the assassin said, after glancing around to make sure no others were close enough to hear. "You began a process from which you cannot easily escape."

  Both of the half-orcs rocked off-balance at the words, confirming Entreri's guess. "Now, will you speak with me alone, or will you not?"

  Arrayan gazed at him plaintively, then turned to Olgerkhan and bade him to go off for a few minutes. The large half-orc glowered at Entreri for a moment, but he could not resist the demands of Arrayan. Staring at the assassin every step of the way, he moved off.

  "You opened the book and you started reading, then found that you could not stop," Entreri said to Arrayan. "Correct?"

  "I… I think so, but it is all blurry to me," she replied. "Dreamlike. I thought that I had constructed enough wards to fend the residual curses of Zhengyi, but I was wrong. All I know is that I was sick soon after back in my house. Olgerkhan brought Wingham and Mariabronne, and another, Nyungy the old bard."

  "Wingham insisted that you come into the castle with us."

  "There was no other choice."

  "To destroy the book before it consumes you," Entreri reasoned, and Arrayan did not argue the point.

  "You were sickly, so you said."

  "I could not get out of my bed, nor could I eat."

  "But you are not so sickly now, and your friend…" He glanced back at Olgerkhan. "He cannot last through a single fight, and each swing of his war club is less crisp and powerful."

  Arrayan shrugged and shook her head, lifting her hands up wide.

  Entreri noticed her ring, a replica of the one Olgerkhan wore, and he noted too that the single gemstone set on that band was a different hue, darker, than it had been before.

  From the side, Olgerkhan saw the woman's movement and began stalking back across the room.

  "Take care how much you admit to our companions," Entreri warned before the larger half-orc arrived. "If the book is draining you of life, then it is feeding and growing stronger because of you. We will—we must—find a way to defeat that feeding magic, but one way seems obvious, and it is not one I would expect you or your large friend to enjoy."

  "Is that a threat?" Arrayan asked, and Olgerkhan apparently heard, for he rushed the rest of the way to her side.

  "It is free advice," Entreri answered. "For your own sake, good lady, take care your words."

  He gave only a cursory glance at the imposing Olgerkhan as he turned and walked away. Given his experience with the lich Herminicle in the tower outside of Heliogabalus, and the words of the dragon sisters, the answer to all of this seemed quite obvious to Artemis Entreri. Kill Arrayan and defeat the Zhengyian construct at its heart. He blew a sigh as he realized that not so long ago, he would not have been so repulsed by the idea, and not hesitant in the least. The man he had been would have long ago left Arrayan dead in a pool of her own blood.

  But now he saw the challenge differently, and his task seemed infinitely more complicated.

  "She read the book," he informed Jarlaxle. "She is this castle's Herminicle. Killing her would be the easy way to be done with this."

  Jarlaxle shook his head through every word. "Not this time."

  "You said that destroying the lich would have defeated the tower."

  "So Ilnezhara and Tazmikella told me, and with certainty."

  "Arrayan is this construct's lich—or soon to be," Entreri replied, and though he was arguing the point, he had no intention, if proven right, of allowing the very course he was even then championing.

  But still Jarlaxle shook his head. "Partly, perhaps."

  "She read the book."

  "Then left it."

  "Its magic released."

  "Its call unleashed," Jarlaxle countered, and Entreri looked at him curiously.

  "What do you know?" asked the assassin.

  "Little—as little as you, I fear," the drow admitted. "But this…" He looked up and swept his arms to indicate the vastness of the castle. "Do you really believe that such a novice mage, that young woman, could be the life-force creating all of this?"

  "Zhengyi's book?"

  But still Jarlaxle shook his head, apparently convinced that there was something more at work. The drow remained determined, for the sake of purse and power alone, to find out what it was.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IMPROVISING

  Entreri moving off ahead of them, the group passed swiftly out of the corner tower and along the corridors of the interior eastern wall. They didn't find any guardian creatures awaiting them, though they came upon a pair of dead gargoyles and a decapitated flesh golem, all three with deep stab wounds in the back.

  "He is efficient," Jarlaxle remarked more than once of his missing friend.

  They came to an ascending stair, ending in a door that stood slightly ajar to allow daylight to enter from beyond it. As they started up, the door opened and Artemis Entreri came through.

  "We are at the joined point of the outer wall and the interior wall that separates the baileys of the castle," he explained.

  "Stay along the outer wall to the back and the turn will take us to the main keep," Mariabronne replied, but Entreri shook his head with every word.

  "When the gargoyles came upon us last night, they were not the castle's full contingent," the assassin explained. "From this point back, the outer wall is lined with the filthy creatures and crossing close to them will likely awaken them and have us fighting every step of the way."

  "The inner wall to the center, then?" asked Ellery. "Where we debark it and spring across the courtyard to the keep's front door?"

  "A door likely locked," Mariabronne reasoned.

  "And locked before a graveyard courtyard that will present us with scores of undead to battle," Jarlaxle assured them in a voice that none questioned.

  "Either way we're for fighting," Athrogate chimed in. "Choose the bony ones who're smaller in the biting!" He giggled then continued, "So lead on and be quick for it's soundin' exciting." The dwarf howled with laughter, but he was alone in his mirth.

  "How far?" Mariabronne asked.

  Entreri shrugged and said, "Seventy feet of ground from the inner gate
house to the door of the keep."

  "And likely a locked door to hold us out," added Ellery. "We'll be swarmed by the undead." She looked to Pratcus.

  "I got me powers against them bony things," he said, though he appeared unconvinced. "But I found the first time that they didn't much heed me commands."

  "Because they are being controlled by a greater power, likely," Jarlaxle said, and all eyes settled on him. He shrugged, showing them that it was just a guess. Then he quickly straightened, his red eyes sparkling, and looked to Entreri. "How far are we now to that keep?"

  Entreri seemed perplexed for just a moment then said, "A hundred feet?"

  "And how much higher is its top above the wall's apex here?"

  Entreri looked back behind him, out the open door. Then he leaned back and glanced to the northeast, the direction of the circular keep.

  "It's not very high," the assassin said. "Perhaps fifteen feet above us at its highest point."

  "Lead on to the wall top," Jarlaxle instructed.

  "What do ye know?" asked Athrogate.

  "I know that I have already grown weary of fighting."

  "Bah!" the dwarf snorted. "I heared ye drow elfs were all for the battle."

  "When we must."

  "Bah!"

  Jarlaxle offered a smile to the dwarf as he squeezed past, moving up the stairs to follow Entreri to the outside landing. By the time the others caught up to him, he was nodding and insisting, "It will work."

  "Pray share your plan," Mariabronne requested.

  "That one's always tellin' folks to pray," Athrogate snorted to Pratcus. "Ye should get him to join yer church!"

  "We drow are possessed of certain… tricks," Jarlaxle replied.

  "He can levitate," said Entreri.

  "Levitation is not flying," Canthan said.

  "But if I can get close enough and high enough, I can set a grapnel on that tower top," Jarlaxle explained.

  "That is a long climb, particularly on an incline," remarked the ranger, his head turning back and forth as he considered the two anchor points for any rope.

  "Better than fighting all the way," said Jarlaxle.

  As he spoke, he took off his hat and reached under the silken band, producing a fine cord. He extracted it, and it seemed to go on and on forever. The drow looped its other end on the ground at his feet as he pulled it from the hat and by the time he had finished, he had a fair-sized coil looped up almost to the height of his knees.

  "A hundred and twenty feet," he explained to Entreri, who was not surprised by the appearance of the magical cord.

  Jarlaxle then took off a jeweled earring, brought it close to his mouth and whispered to it. It grew as he moved it away, and by the time he had it near to the top end of the cord, it was the size of a small grappling hook.

  Jarlaxle tied it off and began looping the cord loosely in one hand, while Entreri took the other end and tied it off on one of the crenellations along the tower wall.

  "The biggest danger is that our movements will attract gargoyles," Jarlaxle said to the others. "It would not be wise to join in battle while we are crawling along the rope."

  "Bah!" came Athrogate's predictable snort.

  "Sort out a crossing order," Jarlaxle bade the ranger. "My friend, of course, will go first after I have set the rope, but we should get another warrior over to that tower top as quickly as possible. And she will need help," he added, nodding toward Arrayan. "I can do that with my levitation, and my friend might have something to assist…?"

  He looked at Entreri, who frowned, but did begin fishing in his large belt pouch. He pulled out a contraption of straps and hooks, which looked somewhat like a bridle for a very large horse, and he casually tossed it to the drow.

  Jarlaxle sorted it out quickly and held it up before him, showing the others that it was a harness of sorts, known as a «housebreaker» to anyone familiar with the ways of city thieves.

  "Enough banter," Ellery bade him, and she nodded to the north and the line of gargoyles hanging on the outside of the wall.

  "A strong shove, good dwarf," Jarlaxle said to Athrogate, who rushed at him, arms outstretched.

  "As I pass you," Jarlaxle quickly explained, before the dwarf could launch him from the wall—and probably the wrong way, at that! He positioned Athrogate at the inside lip of the tower top, then walked at a direct angle away from the distant keep. "Be quick," he bade Entreri.

  "Set it well," the assassin replied.

  Jarlaxle nodded and broke into a quick run. He leaped and called upon the power of his enchanted emblem, an insignia that resembled that of House Baenre, to bring forth magical levitation, lifting him higher from the ground. Athrogate caught him by the belt and launched him out toward the tower, and with the dwarf's uncanny strength propelling him, Jarlaxle found himself soaring away from the others.

  Jarlaxle continued to rise as he went out from the wall.

  Halfway to the keep, he was up higher than its highest point. He was still approaching, but greatly slowing. The levitation power could make him go vertical only, so as the momentum of his short run and Athrogate's throw wore off, he was still twenty feet or so from the keep's wall. But he was up above it, and he began to swing the grapnel at the end of one arm.

  "Gargoyles about the top," he called back to Entreri, who was ready to scramble at the other end of the rope. "They are not reacting to my presence, nor will they to yours, likely, until you step onto the stone."

  * * * * *

  "Wonderful," Entreri muttered under his breath.

  He kept his visage determined and stoic, and his breath steady, but was assailed with images of the gargoyles walking over and tearing out the grapnel, then just letting him drop halfway across into the middle of the courtyard. Or perhaps they would swarm him while he hung helpless from the rope.

  "Take in the slack quickly," Entreri said to Athrogate as Jarlaxle let fly the grapnel.

  Even as it hit behind the keep's similarly crenellated wall, the dwarf began yanking in the slack, tightening the cord, which he stretched and tightly looped over the wall stone.

  Off went Entreri, leaping from the wall to the cord. He hooked his ankles as he caught on, his arms pumping with fluid and furious motion. He hand-walked the cord, coiling his body, then unwinding in perfect synchrony, and so fast was he moving that it seemed to the others as if he was sliding down instead of crawling up.

  In short order, he neared the roof of the keep. As he did, he let go with his feet and turned as he swung his legs down, gathering momentum. He rolled his backbone to gather momentum as he went around and back up, and he let go at the perfect angle and trajectory. Turning a half flip as he flew, drawing his weapons as he went, he landed perfectly on his feet on the wall top—just as a gargoyle rushed out to meet him.

  The creature caught a sword slash across the face, followed by a quick dagger thrust to the throat, and Entreri followed the falling creature down, leaping from the wall to the roof in time to meet the charge of a second gargoyle.

  * * * * *

  "Come on, half-ugly," Athrogate, who was already in the housebreaker harness, said to Olgerkhan.

  Before the half-orc warrior could respond, the dwarf leaped up to the top of the wall, grabbed him by the back of his belt, and swung out, hooking the harness to the cord as he went. With amazing strength, Athrogate held Olgerkhan easily with one arm while his other grabbed and tugged, grabbed and tugged, propelling him across the gap.

  Olgerkhan protested and squirmed, trying to grab at the dwarf's arm for support.

  "Ye hold still and save yer strength, ye dolt," Athrogate scolded. "I'm leaving ye there, and ye best be ready to hold a fight until I get back!"

  At that, Olgerkhan calmed, and the rope bounced. The half-orc managed to glance back, as did Athrogate, to see Mariabronne scrambling onto the cord. The ranger moved almost as fluidly as had Entreri, and he gained steadily on the dwarf as they neared the growing sounds of battle.

  Up above them, Jarlaxle lif
ted a bit higher, gaining a better angle from which to begin loosing his missiles, magical from a wand and poison-tipped from his small crossbow.

  "Go next," Commander Ellery bade Pratcus. "They will need your magic."

  She leaned on the wall, straining to see the fighting across the way. Every so often a gargoyle raised up from the keep's roof, its great leathery wings flapping, and Ellery could only pray that the creature didn't notice the rope and the helpless men scrambling across.

  Pratcus hesitated and Ellery turned a sharp glare at him.

  The dwarf grabbed at the rope and shook his head. "Won't be holding another," he explained.

  Ellery slapped her hand on the stone wall top and turned to Canthan. "Have you anything to assist?"

  The wizard shook his head. Then he launched so suddenly into spellcasting that Ellery fell back a step and gave a yelp. She turned as Canthan cast, firing off a lightning bolt that caught one gargoyle as it dived at Athrogate and Olgerkhan.

  "Nothing to assist in the climbing, if that is what you meant," the wizard clarified.

  "Whatever you can do," Ellery replied, her tone equally dry.

  * * * * *

  Entreri learned the hard way that his location atop the keep's roof had put him in close proximity to many of the gargoyles. He'd taken down three of them, but as four more of the beasts leaped and fluttered around him, the assassin began moving more defensively rather than trying to score any killing blows.

  From up above, Jarlaxle took down one, launching a glob of greenish goo from a wand. It struck a gargoyle on its wings and drove it down, where it stuck fast, hopelessly adhered to the stone. A second of the gargoyles broke off from Entreri and soared out at the levitating drow, but before the assassin could begin to get his feet properly under him and go on the attack against the remaining two, another pair came up over the wall at him.

  Muttering under his breath, the assassin continued his wild dance, using Charon's Claw to set up walls of opaque ash to aid him in his constant retreat. He glanced quickly at the rope line to note Athrogate's progress and had to admit to himself that he was glad to see the dwarf fast approaching—an admission he thought he'd never make where that one was concerned.