limb.'
'But all those innocent people…'
'People die every day, my son,' said Chereth. 'Innocent and guilty alike. This, too, is part of the Balance. You yourself have been used by people who profit from murder. That is the world that people have made. But it was not always so. Before the rise of cities, of rivers of sewage and sludge… people lived as one with the wild, giving and taking in equal measure. Today, we have a world of rot, and you know that the only way to save a tree from rot is to prune the sick limbs.'
'One who tends the trees must prune, yes,' said Berun. 'But you aren't talking about trimming a few rotten branches. You are talking about burning the whole wood! And what good to us if we prune ourselves? If what Lewan saw is true, we will not be around to see your vision fulfilled.'
'Oh, but we will!' said Chereth. 'You know full well that we stand in the midst of a fortress riddled with portals to points across all of Faerun-and beyond. Once I wake the mountain at last, we will go elsewhere. I have prepared a place for us. I have not sat idle these years, but I have even taken many of the animals from this world and sent them there so that we may bring them with us when we return. Return as-'
'Conquerors?' said Berun.
'No,' said Chereth. 'As teachers. Guides. We will lead by example, not force.'
'Destroying civilization,' said Berun. 'That isn't force?'
Chereth scowled. 'Of course it is. A necessary force. Necessary to cleanse the world, to establish paradise.'
Lewan had no idea what to say. He sensed the wrongness-more, the vileness-of what Chereth planned. But he could find no reason or argument to refute it.
'Murder,' Chereth continued, 'greed, blind ambition… destroying innocent lives. Were the both of you not orphaned by the greed of those more powerful than you? Filth, corruption, the sacrilege of undeath holding sway over entire regions-it must end, my sons. We must end it.'
'Vengeance,' said Berun, and an odd expression lit his face, almost like epiphany. 'AH this talk of justice, of cleansing, it all comes down to simple vengeance. Vengeance in the Tower of the Sun.'
Chereth scowled at his odd choice of words. 'No, my son,' he said. 'Vengeance is hurting one who has wronged you.'
'And civilization-the stink of cities and their sewage, as you put it-has not wronged us? Has not wronged the wild we love and swore to defend?'
'No, my son!' Genuine distress clouded the old half-elf’s features. 'The desire for vengeance, for retribution… those are the desires of lesser men. I speak of the Balance, of righting the scales so long wronged by'-his lip curled round the word — 'civilization. We must be above such petty concerns.' 'But Sauk said… I was told-'
'Lies!' said Chereth, and his face flushed with anger. 'That murdering bitch and her half-orc lackey told you nothing but lies. Ask your beloved disciple. Lewan'-the half-elf turned his gaze on Lewan, who flinched away-'tell your master. Have you not been well treated, even pampered, during your entire stay? Your every desire'-he glanced in Ulaan's direction-'quenched?'
'Y-yes,' said Lewan, and he took an involuntary step away from the old druid.
'Yes! Yes, of course you have.' His voice lowered, calming, becoming almost kind again. 'But my dear boy, it was all a lie. Sauk gave you just enough truth to cloak Talieth's lies. From the beginning. Talieth has used you. She even sent a spy into your bed to corrupt you.'
Lewan's heart lurched at the look of shock that passed over Berun's face. Both his master and the half-elf turned their gaze on Ulaan.
'What is this?' said Berun
'I…' said Lewan. 'It… it isn't what you think.'
'No?' said Chereth. He glared at Ulaan. 'You stand in this holy place and tell my son that you were not sent to his bed by your mistress to gain his sympathies and spy upon him?'
Fear lit in Ulaan's eyes. 'Lewan-'
'Do not look to him!' said Chereth. 'You have defiled him enough already. Trained in the arts of murder and seduction. What better way to get close to your victim?' Chereth turned to Lewan. 'Talieth sent her to you to turn you to their cause. To stop me. To stop the world from returning to purity. To murder me and continue their little cult of death dealing. Once they were done with you, she'd have tossed you out… or worse.'
'No!' said Ulaan. 'At first, that's all it was. Duty. But now, we 'Lies!' said Chereth. 'Even now her honeyed tongue drips its poison. She is nothing more than a seductress, using you to get what she wants.' The half-elf faced Ulaan, a look of malice twisting his features. He raised his staff and shouted, 'Ebeneth!'
'Wait!' Lewan shouted, but it was too late.
The plants and vines struck. Some rose up and twisted like snakes, while others lashed like whips. The thickest struck Ulaan's side, knocking her off her feet, and a thick tangle of leaves and creepers caught her and twisted. More and more wrapped around her, binding her tight. With a flick of the old druid's staff, the vines dragged her back to him until they held her only a few paces away. She thrashed and kicked and screamed, but succeeded only in amassing a crisscross of scrapes and cuts across her skin.
Berun stepped forward. 'Master Chereth, what-?'
'Even now she betrays us!' said Chereth. He shook his staff at Ulaan. 'Did you think I would not know. Did you?'
Ulaan shrieked and thrashed. Blood streaked her face.
'Stop it!' said Lewan. 'Stop! You're hurting her!'
'Do you know what she has done?' said Chereth. 'The die is cast. She has used her little trinket'-the half-elf stepped forward, reached amidst the vines into Ulaan's shirt, and pulled out a silver chain upon which hung a red jewel — 'to summon the assassins to rescue her conniving mistress.' He released the jewel and it fell back against the girl's chest.
Lewan remembered Ulaan stumbling upon the stairs. He had heard her murmuring something. A signal. A cry for help.
'Release her!' said Lewan. 'Please. Please, I beg you!'
'I can sense them now,' said Chereth. His gaze seemed distant, and he gave no sign that he'd even heard Lewan. 'In the courtyard. They are setting fire to my gardens.' He chuckled. 'They think that will protect them. Fools. Soon they will burn, and all they hold precious-and all the world will be my garden.'
Ulaan stopped screaming. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her eyes, pleading, looked to Lewan, then at Chereth.
'Still,' said Chereth, 'I cannot have them interfering. Berun, my son, I fear we cannot perform the last rite until dawn, when the stars and planets align, pulling upon Faerun to release the energies I need.'
'If all the assassins have come,' said Berun, 'we cannot withstand them all. They are too many.' His voice sounded oddly flat. Emotionless and… resigned.
'We need not do anything,' said Chereth, 'save perhaps listen to the screams of the dying.'
The druid raised his staff again and half-closed his eyes. Lewan heard him murmuring something. He looked to Ulaan, afraid that the druid was about to inflict some new torture upon her, but nothing changed. She lay there, encased in vines, smeared with her own blood and shivering from terror.
'What are you doing, master?' said Berun.
The druid lowered his staff, leaned upon it, and opened his eyes. 'Sending forth my loyal servants. The ones who brought you both here tonight.'
The dark things. Lewan shivered at the thought. He had watched them tear those four assassins to pieces. If they were going after Talieth's blades… the poor souls wouldn't stand a chance.
'What of those among the blades loyal to you, master?' said Berun.
Chereth smiled. 'I have you and Lewan. I have the only ones I truly need.'
'What of Talieth?' said Berun. 'You said you'd saved her. For me.'
The half-elf closed his eyes a moment, then looked at Berun, almost sadly. 'That is up to her now.'
'Master!' said Lewan. 'You can't-'
'Be silent,' said Berun. But the look from Chereth truly silenced him.
'And you, Lewan?' said Chereth. 'Your master begs for his woman. Do you wish me to spare your little whore? Were the Oak Father's daughters not worth waiting for?'
