Shanhaevel counted six men by the time the last one was up and out of the well, all of them well armed and armored. Fortunately, it didn’t appear that any of them carried bows of any sort. The six strangers were talking softly, discussing something in urgent tones as they moved across the clearing toward the barn.
Neither Shirral nor Ahleage had made a move yet, and Shanhaevel remained frozen, caught totally off guard by the appearance of these strangers.
Gathering his wits about him, the elf quickly chose a spell and prepared to cast it. He raised himself up and peered over the side of the well, but it was empty, nothing more than a dry shaft. Satisfied that no one else would be coming out of the well for the moment, Shanhaevel crouched back down.
“Nothing in there,” he whispered to his companions. Pointing to the retreating men, he said, “Let’s do it.”
Both the druid and Ahleage nodded.
Shirral closed her eyes and mouthed a prayer. When she was done, she swept her arms out before her, gesturing in the direction of the line of men walking toward the barn.
At the same time, Ahleage rose and moved forward, his body slung low and his feet silent in the grass. Shanhaevel followed him, his own spell at the ready. There was a sudden shout from ahead as the men moving toward the barn halted, suddenly milling about in confusion.
That would be Shirral’s spell, Shanhaevel noted with satisfaction, watching as the surrounding plant growth came alive, writhing and wrapping itself around the feet and ankles of the six men, holding them fast. Only one of the men managed to avoid the reaching, grasping grass and weeds, stumbling away from the others and nearly falling as he did so. Ahleage moved toward him, gaining the drop on the man and threatening him with a dagger to the throat before he knew the man was there.
“All of you surrender!” Ahleage ordered. “Throw your weapons to the side and do not resist.”
Several of the men grumbled in defiance, trying to turn to better face the man, but when they realized they were helpless, trapped by the magic of the entangling plants, they reluctantly surrendered, tossing their weapons down.
Shirral had remained behind, her blade drawn, waiting to see if any more surprises appeared at the mouth of the well. Shanhaevel gave a shrill whistle as he collected the discarded weapons, signaling for the rest of the Alliance to come out of hiding. Elmo and Draga were already out the front door of the farmhouse, and Govin appeared a moment later, carrying a lit lantern to guide their way. The other two had their bows out. Once they joined the other three, Govin gave his lantern to Ahleage and bound the captive so that Ahleage could join Shirral by the well. Holding the lantern high, he peered down inside the mouth of the well, studying the interior. Then, setting the lantern on the edge, he swung his legs over and disappeared inside.
Shanhaevel gathered what weapons he could, although a few had been tossed down in the midst of the area of Shirral’s spell, and the wizard could not reach them without becoming entangled. By the time he was done, Ahleage had crawled back out of the well, and he and the druid had moved to join the rest of the group.
“What’s down there?” Govin asked, gesturing toward the well.
“Looks like some sort of secret passage,” Ahleage replied. “A set of ledges drop about halfway down into the thing, and then there’s a ladder propped against the side. At the bottom, there’s a door painted to look like the side of the well. I took a peek, and there’s a tunnel that goes back a long way. The door bolts shut from the inside, but it wasn’t latched.”
After a nod from Elmo, Shirral told the trapped men, “I am going to release you from the entanglement. Don’t even think about going for a weapon.”
The six strangers glared at their captors, but when Shirral released the magic from the plants, none tried to resist. Govin, Elmo, Shirral, and Ahleage herded the men into the barn while Shanhaevel stayed behind, gathering the rest of the weapons. Draga took a position to watch the well, his bow handy. When Shanhaevel had collected everything, he joined his friends inside, leaving Draga alone to stand watch.
The men were quickly stripped of their armor and bound. Govin and Elmo led them off one at a time to question them before deciding what to do with them. While this was going on, Ahleage and Shanhaevel moved off to converse in private, leaving Shirral to stand watch over the men.
“We can’t keep prisoners,” the wizard said. “We want to be able to move fast and at a moment’s notice. They’ll slow us down and make us vulnerable.”
“Then let’s just kill them and be done with it,” Ahleage suggested.
“No. Killing them is not an option.”
“Why? We killed the men at the tower today.”
“I’m not a murderer, Ahleage. This isn’t like at the tower today. Those thugs had a chance to surrender and wouldn’t.” Shanhaevel felt as if he were trying to convince himself as much as the man standing next to him.
“It was the right move. They would have killed us if they’d had the chance. This is a war, Shanhaevel. It’s kill or be killed. But if you won’t let me kill them, I have another idea. Perhaps you have some magic up your sleeve that we could use to convince them to leave for good and never come back.”
“Hmm,” Shanhaevel mused. “Illusions aren’t my specialty. Give me some time to think about it.”
“All right. We’ll see what Govin and Elmo find out and go from there.”
After the other two men were done interrogating the prisoners, everyone gathered to discuss the situation.
“None of them want to talk,” Govin began, “which isn’t surprising. They seem frightened. Something has them shook up, something other than us capturing them.”
“They did admit that they had instructions to watch for us in town and attack us with the intent to capture us,” Elmo added. “They’ve been expecting us. How, I don’t know, but it was wise of us to slip around town without them seeing us.”
“So, what’s beyond that door down in the well?” Shirral asked.
“They wouldn’t say. Their lair, I suspect.”
“So, in your estimation,” Ahleage said, “what are our chances of convincing them that they can find greener pastures somewhere else?”
Govin and Elmo looked at one another and thought for a moment. “I suppose,” Govin finally answered, “that if we could convince their leader, the rest of them would follow along.”
“Their leader?” Shanhaevel asked. “You mean someone beyond the door? How many more men do you think we would find there?”
“Hard to say,” Govin said. “I suspect they’re hoping we’d go try to find out and get the bad end of it. But I meant the leader of these six. That fellow over there with the beard is their sergeant,” the knight added, gesturing subtly. “If we can talk him into running and never looking back, he’d probably convince the others.”
“That’s easy enough to take care of,” Shirral said. “Bring him off by himself and let me have a few minutes alone with him.”
Shanhaevel turned and looked at the druid with surprise and dismay on his face.
When she saw his expression, she rolled her eyes and said, “No, stupid! I meant I could use a little of my magic on him, convince him that he’d be helping me out if he and his men could go far away.”
Shanhaevel gave the druid a sheepish grin and nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said.
“It figures,” Shirral replied, grimacing.
Shanhaevel, Elmo, and Shirral led the sergeant off by himself while the rest stayed behind, continuing to watch the prisoners.
Shirral squatted down in front of the man, who was still bound, and looked him in the eye. Then she chanted softly, invoking a spell. When she reached the end of her magical phrases, she flicked her fingers softly in front of the fellow’s face, and Shanhaevel observed his expression change from sullen defiance to eagerness.
“Now,” Shirral said, “I want you to tell me all about yourself.” Her voice was soft and sweet, and she held a big smile, which the prisoner re
turned. Shanhaevel nodded in satisfaction and returned to the others.
After several more minutes, Elmo returned, leaving Shirral alone with the man.
“Any luck?” the wizard asked.
“Boy, did Shirral ever get him to talk,” Elmo replied. “She’s convincing him right now that it’s best if he and his men ride on and never turn back. The tunnel leads all the way to the tower. There’s a secret trap door up through the bedroom where Ahleage got poisoned. They’re frightened because of all their dead companions.”
“Ah,” Shanhaevel said, nodding. “That would do it, I suppose. That would also explain how the troops came and went.”
“They don’t know much about the temple itself,” Elmo continued. “They just raid and gather information. Their captain, somebody named Grozdan, would take off every once in a while, through the tunnel, to visit the temple itself and get marching orders. That’s where they got their instructions to watch for us in Nulb and capture us.”
“There’s our way in,” Shanhaevel said.
“Any traps along this tunnel?” Ahleage asked.
“No,” Govin replied. “Shirral specifically asked him how safe the tunnel was, and he said it was fine.”
“After we were way past due to ride into town and didn’t, they rode back to report,” Elmo added. “When they discovered everyone at the tower dead, they hightailed it back here and were discussing what they should do next when we caught them.”
“Should we expect anyone else to come through there tonight?” the wizard asked.
“I don’t know,” Elmo answered. “It doesn’t sound like anyone but them uses this tunnel. They certainly don’t know how Grozdan got into the temple itself from the passage, and they don’t mention ever seeing anyone else coming or going.”
“Just to be safe, I want to block that door from this side,” Ahleage said. “I’ll get Draga to help me.”
“Sounds good,” Govin said. “We’ll get the men on their way.”
The six bandits were given their armor and horses, but not their weapons. Based on the harrowing sight they had discovered in the tower, it must not have taken too much convincing from the leader, and they all fell in line, riding off in the middle of the night.
“I suggested that they could find better—and safer—work in Dyvers, and he completely agreed with me,” Shirral said, a slight smile on her face. “He was convinced that he and his men were going to strike it rich there. I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble from them.”
Ahleage and Draga had returned from blocking the passage by this time, and Ahleage sat, going through the goods they had pulled out of the tower earlier in the day. As Shanhaevel yawned and considered readying himself for sleep, Ahleage whistled softly in surprise.
“Hello! What’s this?” he muttered, half to himself, as he pulled a blank sheet of parchment out from a small gap in the slats of the lid of a small chest.
“What have you got there?” Elmo asked, moving over beside Ahleage to look at the page.
“There’s nothing on it,” Ahleage murmured as he turned the sheet this way and that.
“Hey, look!” Shirral exclaimed, moving beside Ahleage and grabbing his wrist. She lifted the man’s hand up into the air. “When you hold it up to the lantern light, there’s a map here.”
The rest of the companions gathered around the druid and looked at the faint traces of the map.
“The other end of the tunnel goes right to the tower, like they said,” she noted, pointing.
“There’s a second tunnel that goes underneath the temple,” Govin said, pointing to a spot where the subterranean passage branched off in two directions. “Just as we suspected it might.”
“The way it’s marked on the map, it might be concealed,” Shirral replied, “which also confirms what we thought: Those six didn’t know it existed.”
“That’s got to be where this Grozdan went to meet with his superiors,” Shanhaevel said. “It probably connects with the lower levels of the temple.”
“Then the first thing to do tomorrow is explore that tunnel,” Govin said.
By this time, it was well past midnight, and everyone was exhausted. Govin volunteered to stand first watch. The knight set an old chair on the porch and made himself passably comfortable while everyone else got ready to bed down for the night.
Shanhaevel was surprised at how little used the place was. In addition to a large open room that served as a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen, there were two smaller rooms that were presumably bedrooms, though there was very little furniture left. Shanhaevel leaned his staff into a corner in one of the bedrooms and pulled his bedroll out of his saddlebags, which he had brought in with him after they had stabled their horses. Shirral stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him.
“Is there room for me in here, too?” the druid asked, somewhat shyly.
Shanhaevel looked at her—silhouetted by the light of the single lantern in the other room—then nodded.
“It’s cold,” she said as she came in and tossed her own belongings near where he was preparing his blanket. “We’ll stay warmer if we use both of our blankets together.”
The wizard had already stretched his blanket out so that he could wrap himself in it, but Shirral layered her own woolen covering atop his and then dropped down, pulling half the covers over herself and leaving half for him beside her. She was yawning profusely, Shanhaevel saw, and he had caught himself doing the same several times since entering the cottage. Smiling and realizing he was going to be glad for the warmth, he crawled under the bedding beside her.
For a moment, Shanhaevel merely lay there, inhaling the faint fragrance of Shirral’s hair near his face, but then he felt her shift, turn toward him, and he looked into her eyes, knowing she could see him, even in the darkness. She pressed her lips against his, just once, and then her eyelids closed. Soon both of them were breathing the slow, easy rhythm of slumber, huddled together in the coolness of the early spring night.
Hedrack smiled, pleased with what he was about to reveal to his master, Iuz.
“Your beloved grows more aware every day. Without knowing it, she has begun to affect the elements around the temple. I believe that I can focus her power and bring it to bear in a useful manner. She is not at full strength, to be sure, but she grows stronger.”
That is fortuitous news. Iuz beamed, his malevolent pleasure washing over Hedrack. It was a welcome sensation. You will harness this power, turn it against those damned interlopers that the mustached fop sent. Do not kill them, though. Bring them here, to the temple. I want them sacrificed to me.
“I hear and obey, my lord.”
Hedrack bowed, knowing the delight he would shower upon his lord should he manage to do such a thing. But Iuz was already gone.
Hedrack left the inner temple and visited the cell of his prisoner. Lareth stared at nothing, his eyes glazed. The burn marks on his face would never go away, disfiguring the once-handsome priest of the moathouse. As Hedrack had suspected, Lareth had been too wrapped up in his own beauty, too immersed in his own glory. Hedrack had made sure that would never be a problem again, and now, Lareth’s feverish mind churned with hatred for those infidels who had cost him his glory. He would be good for little else anymore, but for what Hedrack now had in mind, Lareth was the perfect instrument.
“I have duties for you,” the high priest said, signaling for the guards to release the prisoner.
Lareth’s appearance was ragged, but there now burned a fire in the man’s eyes that had not been there moments before.
Hedrack drew close and spoke softly. “They’re out there, you know.”
Lareth blinked and looked into Hedrack’s eyes.
“They’re close, too. And you remember what they did to you.”
Lareth nodded slowly, his nostrils flaring. “Yes.…”
“The plans you had … the promises … They ruined all of that.”
“Yesss. I hate them.”
“The hum
iliation of defeat,” Hedrack reminded him. “I know you want to right that wrong, don’t you?”
“Yes. Please let me destroy them.”
“No.” Hedrack’s tone was firm. “Not destroy. Capture. I have an army above. It is yours. You will take command, as you were meant to. You will lead them. You know where the enemy is. Lead that army, and exact your just revenge. Bring your enemies to me, so that they may be cast to the elements and properly sacrificed to Iuz.”
Lareth’s head was nodding vigorously, now, saliva flecking his lips as he breathed heavily, the hatred overwhelming him. He was a near-mindless machine, and he was ready to throw his life away for the privilege of capturing the six who were hiding in the abandoned farmhouse. He strained where he stood, eager to move forward, to begin his last, greatest quest, but he was unwilling to take his leave without permission from the one who had instructed him so effectively—with pain, horrible, horrible pain—about the error of his ways.
Hedrack knew that a small, rational part of Lareth’s mind still clung to the notion that his own mistress, that spider bitch Lolth, would save him, would take him and make him whole and beautiful again. The high priest knew that the broken man before him still believed he was destined for greater things in her service and that he would gain the chance to exact revenge. In a way, Hedrack pitied Lareth for his false hopes. If there was one thing he was certain of, if there was one constant in the universe he believed above all else, it was the pettiness of gods.
Lolth would have nothing to do with a man such as Lareth, of that Hedrack was convinced. She would see the failures that tainted his damned soul, and she would not mend his ruined face. She might ignore him—or worse, betray him at the point when his belief was strongest. That was the way of Lolth, Iuz, and all of the masters. They did not accept failure, for it reflected badly on them. It was much better, Hedrack knew, for a deity to turn away, to find another champion. It saved face.
Still, Hedrack would exploit Lareth’s faint hope. He would temper it, mold it, and forge it into something useful, if only for a brief while. He smiled and waved his hand, softly casting a spell as he did so. He would use his magic to transform the broken, defeated man and rid himself of a pest that had gone too long unchecked. Lolth, too-proud Lolth, would see her own meddling in the temple warped. Her power over this man would be tainted, transformed, and used in a way she never intended. Hedrack smiled as he thought of the spider bitch’s displeasure at being thwarted. He almost wished he could see her face. Almost.
The Temple of Elemental Evil Page 13