Part 5 (1/2)

At the mention of Gruumsh, a flash of terror shot through the prisoner's eyes, and Yder knew he recognized Gruumsh as the name of the orcs' one-eyed G.o.d of savagery. But if the man understood the significance of the Eye itself, he didn't let it show. He merely studied Yder in confusion, then finally raised his brow in a practiced expression of deferential helpfulness.

”A stone?” he asked. ”And just how large ... might the Eye of Gruumsh be?”

The prisoner let his gaze slide back to the satchel, silently suggesting that perhaps the stone might still be inside, and Yder realized that the fool took the Eye of Gruumsh to be the name of a mere gem-something akin to the t.i.tan's Tear or the Star of Halruaa.

Yder tightened his grasp on the man's throat. ”I am weary of hearing questions in the place of answers,” he said. ”Where are the contents of the satchel?”

The prisoner's eyes bulged. ”There.” He pointed to a forge hammer lying on the deck next to the gold-armored buffoon Yder had killed just a few minutes earlier. ”They ... your thieves ... they said it would protect Farnig from ... your kind.”

Yder recognized the grand duke's name and knew that his father-Netheril's ruler, the Most High Telamont Tanthul-would be pleased that Yder had killed a Cormyrean royal. But Yder hadn't come to Ma.r.s.ember to please his father or kill Farnig-and so far, he wasn't having much success doing what the Mistress of the Night had sent him to do.

He tossed the empty satchel aside, then lowered his free hand toward the forge hammer and extended a shadow finger to retrieve it. He studied the tool for a moment and, feeling no magic in it, held it before the prisoner's eyes.

”Who said this trifle would protect the grand duke?” Seeing that his captive was about to pa.s.s out, Yder loosened his grasp. ”Describe them.”

The prisoner took a ragged breath, then said, ”It was a red-haired beauty and her manservant.” His voice was hard, as though he was angrier at the ones who had deceived him than at his tormentor. ”She introduced herself as Lady Emmeline of Berdusk, but I knew the moment her servant arrived that she was no lady. A true gentlewoman would never tolerate such an odor.”

Yder nodded and returned the prisoner's feet to the deck. His spies had already identified Joelle Emmeline as an accomplished Berduskan jewel thief with unusual powers of beguilement. Her foul-smelling ”servant” was actually an accomplice, a barely competent spy and murderer who went by the name Malik el Sami yn Na.s.ser.

There were reports of Malik claiming to be a Chosen of the dead G.o.d Myrkul, but Yder had his doubts. The spy's name was the same as that of the Seraph of Lies who had served Cyric the Mad a hundred years earlier. Besides, with the entire world on the verge of a new age, the G.o.ds were vying for wors.h.i.+pers like rival crime guilds fighting for turf, dispatching their Chosen to advance their interests and sabotage the plans of their rivals. And sending an impostor to steal another G.o.d's domain seemed like exactly the kind of scheme that Cyric-the G.o.d of strife-would relish.

Still holding the prisoner by his neck, Yder turned to study the main deck. Soaked in blood and strewn with corpses and moaning wounded, the Wave Wyvern looked more like a charnel house than a s.h.i.+p. Most of the casualties wore tabards over chain mail, but Yder had suffered losses, too. A long row of dusky bodies lay atop the center cargo hatch, their severed heads tucked under their arms and wisps of shadow still seeping from their neck stumps.

He saw no sign of Malik or Joelle-or the Eye.

He began to seep black wisps of shadow, a sign of his growing frustration. He had brought along only fifty of his Night Guards, believing that number more than adequate to hunt down a single pair of thieves. But the big watchman had proven a nasty surprise-first by stepping forward to protect the thieves at all, then by killing a quarter of Yder's company almost by himself. It was not the kind of resistance his spies had led him to expect from the Ma.r.s.ember Watch, and he could not help seeing the hand of his G.o.ddess's enemies in the unantic.i.p.ated interference-and especially in that blue agate on the watchman's sword. The way it glowed when he and his warriors came near, the way it weakened and blinded them, pointed to divine favor.

And now the hulk had sounded the alarm and was actually leading a hunt for him and his warriors. It would be a simple matter to summon reinforcements from Shar's Hall of Shadows in Thultanthar, but that carried even greater peril. Less than two years earlier, Yder's brother Rivalen had attempted to initiate Shar's world-destroying Cycle of Night, and now many of Netheril's most important figures-including the Most High himself-feared her power over the empire. If Yder removed too many warriors, someone was certain to raid her temple and undermine her power in Netheril.

And that was a risk Yder dared not take. Rivalen had failed to bring the Cycle to a successful close, but Shar remained one of the most powerful deities on Toril-and one who intended to grow even more powerful by eliminating the boundary that separated her Shadowfell from the world of stone and soil.

After a few moments, Yder grew certain that the thieves could not be among the dead. Had they been, one of his warriors would have informed him by that point. He turned back to the prisoner.

”Where are these liars now?” he asked. ”Why can't we find them?”

A look of confusion came to the majordomo's face, and he glanced forward. ”They should be here,” he said. ”They were right behind us when we boarded.”

Whispering through the shadows, Yder ordered the survivors of the battle to continue the search for the thieves and their prize below decks, then turned back to the majordomo.

”Did you actually see them board?” he asked. ”Or do you a.s.sume?”

The majordomo's eyes widened. ”I didn't see them, no,” he admitted. ”The situation was chaotic, and they were behind me.”

Yder resisted the temptation to crush the man's throat. ”Then why do you believe they followed you aboard?”

”Where else could they have gone?” he asked. ”You were coming right behind us.”

”And they knew it,” Yder said, more to himself than the prisoner. ”That was my mistake.”

Yder looked aft, debating the wisdom of returning to sh.o.r.e. Cyric's blessing-at least he a.s.sumed it was Cyric's blessing-kept the Eye and its bearers hidden from the divination magic of even the Mistress herself. So if he lost track of his quarry now, there was a chance he would never be able to find them again.

But the big watchman had no doubt sounded the alarm, and that meant the entire Ma.r.s.ember Watch would soon be mustering to hunt down his company. If he returned to the city to search for the thieves, his Night Guards would be outnumbered ten-to-one. And that meant he would lose a lot more of his force-probably most of it.

Fortunately, Yder saw no reason to believe that he needed to find his quarry in Ma.r.s.ember. Contrary to what the prisoner had seemed to think, the Eye of Gruumsh was not a giant gem, and the thieves had not come to the city to sell it. They had probably come to Ma.r.s.ember because it was a port-and that meant they intended to board a s.h.i.+p.

And now Yder had a s.h.i.+p of his own.

In their haste to escape Ma.r.s.ember with their lives, the Shadovar were fleeing in their stolen vessel with all oars pulling. Malik could hear the cries of their wounded captives echoing off the buildings that lined the ca.n.a.l banks, and he could see their craven leader standing on the quarterdeck, looking back toward the great arcing bridge where Kleef Kenric and his brave fools stood watching in anger and despair.

The crazed watchman had hoped to reach the High Bridge in time to drop onto the Wave Wyvern's decks and avenge the death of his murdered duke, and so the entire group had spent the last ten minutes racing through the streets like madmen. But Malik had wanted to avoid being seen by the Shadovar, and it was on that account that he had contrived to stumble and fall so frequently that his companions had finally begun to drag him along by his elbows. Even so, he had managed to slow the company enough to save it from the slaughter that would surely have followed had it arrived in time to execute Kleef's foolish plan, and the group had raced onto the bridge to find the Wave Wyvern's stern just beyond leaping distance.

Taking care to keep one of Kleef's courageous buffoons between him and the Shadovar at all times, Malik reached out to tug on the topsword's tattered cape.

”It is a sad thing that we have missed our chance to deal those Shadovar devils the death they deserve,” he said. ”But Lady Emmeline and I have urgent matters beyond the Lake of Dragons. If you and your men will kindly escort us to Starmouth Harbor and help us find the s.h.i.+p we have hired, I'm certain you will find Lady Emmeline most grateful.”

”Indeed,” Joelle said. Like Malik, she was taking care to remain hidden from the Shadovar-in her case, by standing directly behind the big watchman. ”Most grateful.”

She took Kleef's arm and graced him with a beaming smile, and Malik knew they would soon be on their way to the harbor. As a Chosen of Sune, Joelle had but to smile at a man to bend him to her will-and when she deigned to touch him, he became her happy slave. Malik knew this from his own experience. It was the only reason he been foolish enough to accompany her into the orc stronghold at Big Bone Deep and remove the Eye of Gruumsh from the great statue in the Hidden Temple of Nishrek.

As Malik had foreseen, Kleef nodded at Joelle, then turned to his followers. ”This is a matter for the Royal Navy now,” he said. ”We'll escort the lady and her manservant to Starmouth Harbor and report to the lord admiral. He'll alert the fleet to watch for the grand duke's s.h.i.+p, and perhaps one of his captains will be able to take vengeance.”

”What about Her Grace?” demanded the archer, Elbertina. Though she had spoken very little until now, she had been one of the most determined runners, leading the company the entire way. ”And the rest of the household?”

”The Seasilver family is aboard?” Kleef asked this not of Elbertina but of the grizzled sergeant of the household guards, Carlton. ”Duke Farnig hadn't sent them ahead?”

For some reason Malik did not understand, Carlton glanced at Elbertina before he spoke. Perhaps she had been the grand duke's private bodyguard or his personal bard-or some other a.s.sistant of an even more confidential nature.

After a moment, Elbertina nodded, and Carlton said, ”The grand duke felt his family would be safer crossing on the Wyvern with him. Her Grace is aboard.”

Kleef cursed, then said, ”You didn't mention Lady Arietta. Is she aboard, too?”

Again, the sergeant's gaze slid to Elbertina.

”Arietta wasn't aboard,” she said. ”She was ... away from the residence.”

The words scratched at Malik's ear, for it was a gift of Cyric the One and All that he could always tell when someone spoke a lie, and he knew her hesitation had not been innocent. The minstrel was keeping something from them-something she and the sergeant both knew about Lady Arietta.

If Kleef noticed her falseness, he did not show it. The big oaf merely turned to watch the Wave Wyvern as it departed the ca.n.a.l, his brow furrowed with the effort it took him to see what was obvious. The s.h.i.+p was already entering the open sea, and even now the shades were stepping her masts. There was no way to catch the vessel.

Still, Kleef pointed to a pair of ca.n.a.l boats moored at a quay at the far end of the bridge.

”There,” he said, starting across the bridge. ”We can still catch them.”

”And then what?” asked Joelle, taking his arm. ”Even you can't board a fighting s.h.i.+p from a pair of oversized canoes-not against shades.”

”We need to try,” Elbertina insisted. Her loyalty to Duke Farnig and his family must have been great, for her voice was cracking and her eyes were swollen and wet. ”If they don't murder Her Grace outright, they'll hold her hostage the rest of her life.”

”And how will getting yourselves killed change that?” Joelle asked, her voice filled with comfort and rea.s.surance. ”It's better to be patient and look for a real opportunity to save her.”

”What opportunity?” Kleef asked. ”The Lake of Dragons is a big place. By the time we reach Starmouth Harbor and report, the Wyvern will be far from sh.o.r.e. And by the time the lord admiral sends a flotilla after it-if he sends a flotilla-it will be lost in the Sea of Swords.”