'Korvaun…'
Naoni's voice was soft and steady, yet it held a note that lifted the hairs on the back of Dyre's neck. He charged toward whatever danger threatened his daughter; may young Helmfast be fleeter of foot or be damned!
Arriving first, he pulled up short alongside Naoni, and after a stunned moment, slid a steadying arm around her waist.
A burly, battered body lay sprawled on the stones-a dwarf. More than that Dyre couldn't say, for the dead face had been battered beyond recognition… but there was an all too familiar rune carved bloodily into the corpse's forehead.
Beldar found it surprisingly easy to win past the workmen. One looked up, saw his glittering red cloak, and pointed with his hammer at a ladder sticking up out of a pit.
Beldar nodded thanks, took a torch from a sand-bucket bristling with them, lit it from the lantern sitting hard by, and climbed down into the darkness.
After his last and exceedingly unpleasant underground experience, he was relieved to find himself in a stone- lined tunnel: well-built, dry, and smelling of not much more than damp earth. He started to walk briskly, hoping to catch up with his friends.
Very soon he saw the glimmerings of several distant lanterns, and quickened his pace.
Just as he was about to call out a greeting, he passed the mouth of a side-passage. A dark shape exploded out of it.
Beldar grabbed for his sword, but The world whirled around him. He fought for balance, and somewhere in his flailings lost hold of his torch. It whup-whupped into the wall and exploded into sparks at about the same moment Beldar's back slammed bruisingly onto flagstones, smashing the wind out of him.
He gasped for breath in the sudden darkness and then went very, very still. There was no doubt at all about the nature of the cold sharpness pressed against his throat.
'I've got him!' a familiar voice called from just above him. 'Bring a lantern!'
'Korvaun?' Beldar gasped in disbelief. 'Helmfast, is that you?'
There was a long silence, during which two lights approached.
'Aye,' Korvaun said at last, and the steel was gone from Beldar's throat as Taeros and Starragar, lanterns held high, stopped and stared down at him.
'How'd you know where to find us?' Starragar snapped.
Beldar frowned. Did they think he couldn't read? Surely they hadn't planned to undertake some sort of adventure without him!
'You left a note on the clubhouse door,' he replied, not bothering to hide his exasperation.
His fellow Gemcloaks exchanged dark glances. Their manner was beginning to grate on Beldar's nerves, already frayed over the last few days. He struggled to his feet unaided, and gave Korvaun Helmfast his best glare. 'You ambushed me. Why?'
Korvaun slid his dagger into its sheath. 'My apologies.' His voice was flat and cool. 'We heard footsteps and decided to lie in wait for whoever-or whatever-was following us.'
Beldar lifted an eyebrow. 'Admirably cautious.'
'We've good reason,' Taeros said bluntly. 'The Dyre girls are with us-and Master Dyre's apprentice was murdered while following them.'
Beldar frowned in bewilderment. 'And you thought to find his killer here?'
'There's little chance of finding him at all,' Starragar said. 'Some sort of necromantic rune carved into his forehead blocks magical inquiry. A popular spell, it seems; there's another corpse in the tunnel yonder sporting the same rune.'
A little chill wandered down Beldar's back. The mad priest Golskyn, his burning-eyed sorcerer son, the Dathran…
'Magic's nearly endless in form and variety,' he murmured. 'I know an outlander mage well versed in dark arts.'
Again his friends shot looks at each other. Starragar thrust his head forward. 'Oh? And how came you by this… acquaintance?'
'My brother took me to her as a prank, years ago,' Beldar explained impatiently. 'She mumbled the usual dire prophecies and grand promises. What of it, if she knows a way around those runes? I'll take something personal from this body you've found; it might help her find the killer.'
'Worth trying,' Korvaun admitted. He looked at Taeros, who handed Beldar an intricately worked iron medallion.
'We'd planned to take it to the Warrens in hopes someone could name the owner,' the Hawkwinter explained.
'Your corpse is a halfling?'
'Dwarf.'
Beldar waited for Taeros to elaborate, but his friend merely regarded him. With unfriendly eyes.
Suddenly he understood; Lark must have already reneged on their deal.
'What did she tell you?' he demanded.
His friends gave him only silence. After it had lasted long enough to become uncomfortable, Taeros asked, 'Just when did you take up beating unarmed women?'
Shame and relief swept over Beldar together. If this was the sum of their complaints, a simple half-truth should set them at ease. 'She bore a stolen charm: Silver, on a silver chain. I tried to take it from her. Though I'd no intention of striking her, my hand… connected, ere she fled. I deeply regret this mishap and will tell her so at first opportunity.'
Taeros absently reached for his chest, at just the place where a charm might hang, and Beldar knew his words had hit their mark.
'And where's this charm now?'
Beldar shrugged. 'Find the wench, and you'll find your property.'
Starragar scowled. 'She said much the same of you.'
For a long moment Beldar regarded his boyhood friends, realizing they'd become strangers all. With all the dignity he could muster, he said, 'If you think me a liar and thief, put me to the test. Surely at least one of you has a truth-seeker.'
Starragar stripped a ring from his hand and all but threw it at Beldar. 'Put it on. You'll be compelled to answer three questions truthfully.'
Beldar donned the ring and waved at the other Gemcloaks to proceed.
Korvaun winced. 'Blast it, this isn't right! Never once has Beldar Roaringhorn given any of us cause to doubt his word! Never once has he forgotten a debt or failed to stand beside his friends!'
He turned to Beldar. 'Take off the thrice-damned ring and tell me straight out you don't possess the charm or know its whereabouts-and I'll believe you.'
Beldar regarded Korvaun, held up his hand so the ring was prominently displayed, and said flatly, 'I don't have it, I don't know where it is, and this ring is far too garish and made of brass, which is utterly, unforgivably common. Is that truth enough for you?'
'Please accept our apologies,' Korvaun said. 'There should be no talk of truth-spells among us.'
'It's forgotten.' The Roaringhorn tossed the ring back to Starragar. 'I'm off, then. What say we meet at the club come sundown?'
'Agreed,' Korvaun replied.
The other Gemcloaks just nodded, content to let Korvaun speak for them. At that moment, a truth hit Beldar hard. The Gemcloaks now looked to Korvaun-steady, decent, honorable Korvaun-rather than to him.
Loss-almost grief-stabbed at Beldar. Forcing a smile onto his face, he gave the dwarf's medallion a jaunty swing, wheeled around, and started the long walk to the Dathran's lair.
