All had had enough trouble for one day, and the gate to a city never looked so good as it did that evening. As they waited outside the gate, Tarl was the first to spot the cynical guard they had spoken to on the way out. He started to smile when he saw the guard ride out from behind the open gate accompanied by a young watchman. When they drew near, the guard raised his sword and pronounced, 'You're under arrest.'
Tarl stopped smiling as the guard jabbed the point of his sword into his ribs and ordered all three of them to come with him.
'What the-' Ren spluttered, his anger quick to surface again.
'Under arrest for what?' Shal blurted out. 'By whose orders?'
'For unauthorized travel in the ruins,' responded the other guard. 'By authority of Fourth Councilman Cadorna.'
'Fourth Councilman Cadorna!' It was Tarl's turn to be angry. 'Our mission was under his auspices! It was he who sent us out here!'
'We're just followin' orders,' said the first guard. 'Frankly, if'n I were you, I'd be tickled to make it out of the uncivilized portion of the city alive. Matter of fact, I think we discussed that this mornin', didn't we? You were a might cocky, as I recall it. Seems that the Fourth Councilman suspects you might have borrowed some things that weren't yours.'
Ren's face was crimson with anger. 'That's ridic-'
The younger guard jabbed him hard with the point of his sword. 'Enough! Come with us!'
When they reached the council building, the younger guard once again began barking orders. 'Get off your horses. Move over against those tables there. Open your packs, your pouches; empty your pockets, your shoes. Everything on the table. Separate out the treasure that belongs to the Fourth Councilman.'
With a word, Shal protected her magical items from tampering. She then discreetly removed the vase from the Cloth of Many Pockets and was waiting for an opportunity to remove the armor unseen when Ren caught her eye. He barely moved his head, but she knew what he meant: 'Don't take it out.'
At the same time, with the dexterity of a polished street magician, Ren slipped the two ioun stones from the hilts of Right and Left and into the chameleon gauntlet on his right hand. As Shal began unhitching the heavy belt she wore at her waist, Ren sidled up to her and said, 'Here, sweetheart. Let me help you with that.'
The older guard chortled at the big man's forwardness, and Shal blushed even as she realized that Ren was pressing something into her waistband.
With one hand, she made a point of pressing Ren away, while with the other, she appeared to be holding fast to the belt he had offered to help her remove. 'I'll get it myself, thank you!' she said tartly. The paper-thin gauntlet Ren had slipped her remained unseen inside one of her big hands, and as she fumbled with the buckle, she was able to press the gauntlet-and the ioun stones inside it-into the Cloth of Many Pockets for safekeeping.
From the shadows of a doorway, Gensor watched the two companions. He suspected that something, physical or verbal, had passed between them, but he hadn't actually seen anything.
Tarl bridled at Ren, no more aware than the guard of what was really transpiring between the two. With angry deliberateness, not uttering a word, he slapped down his hammer, his shield, his armor, and the treasure of the textile house without so much as a word. But when the young guard insisted he remove his sacred medallion, he said coldly, 'You'll have to kill me first.'
'Come now, there'll be no need for that.' Cadorna strolled into the courtyard. His gray eyes were glued to the gold bullion Ren had just removed from his pack.
'What do you mean by having us arrested for doing your bidding?' Shal turned on Cadorna with a look not unlike the one she'd given the gnolls at the textile house before blasting them to dust.
'No need to be so testy, young woman,' Cadorna replied smoothly. 'Obviously these fine guards misunderstood my intent. I wanted them only to escort you here safely so that no one would have the opportunity to rob you of your treasure.'
' 'No one' meaning us?' Ren asked pointedly.
'Naturally I wanted to see everything you brought back with you.'
'Are you reneging on your promise to give a percentage of the treasure to the Tyrian temple?' asked Tarl.
'Why, Brother Tarl! I'm offended that you would suggest such a thing. In fact, I just wanted to be sure your partners were honest in providing all the treasure so the temple would be sure to get its fair share.'
'I trust my friends,' said Tarl.
'I trust no one,' retorted Cadorna, his face growing cold. After examining everything carefully, the councilman assembled the treasure into one pile. A crooked, toothy smile pasted on his face, he handed a single gold brick and the coral and ivory brooch to Tarl. 'For the temple. Quite generous, don't you think?'
Tarl clenched his teeth but nodded reluctantly. The portion was nowhere near fifteen percent of the treasure, but he knew he would receive no more and that the temple could do worse than inherit a gold brick and an emerald brooch.
'You're free to go now,' Cadorna said finally. 'I do thank you all. You will help me out again if I need it, won't you?'
9
All of Phlan and the entire Moonsea was awash in the tumult of a terrific thunderstorm. Lightning ripped through the sky in every direction, and deafening thunder reverberated for tens of miles. A person versed in weather and the natural pattern of things might have noticed that the lightning was almost perverse in its configuration, bolting upward and outward from one point and shattering the sky in an unnatural purple brilliance, but most people were undoubtedly more than content to huddle in their homes, hoping they were out of reach of what the next day they surely would refer to as 'a demon storm.'
Not far from the heart of the storm, at the northeastern edge of the ruins of Phlan, stood Valjevo Castle, a structure that even in its present decrepit state dwarfed the ruins that abutted it. Awe-inspiring despite its fallen walls and toppled turrets, the castle must once have been one of the largest in the Realms. No doubt fantastic works of magic had been required to move the gargantuan slabs of marble and granite used in its construction. Those few who had seen the castle since the Dragon Run were amazed that the dragons had been able to raze even portions of its great walls, and in fact, much of the castle and the fortress around it was still intact.
Despite damage to parts of its structure, the castle stood several stories by any measurement and remained among the tallest buildings in the Realms. Its toppled turrets must once have reached one hundred feet or more. Now, almost that far beneath the castle, the great bronze dragon shifted in its resting place in the curve of the Pool of Radiance.
'Shall I have no peace?' The beast's voice boomed and echoed against the golden walls of the cave. 'The ground shudders with magic that is not my own, power that is not mine! What say you, Quarrel? Where are my ioun stones?'
A curious figure, lying prostrate before the dragon, lifted its head. Shimmering black hair parted to reveal the face of a half-orc woman. But for her piglike snout, she could have passed for human. Her eyes, mouth, and facial contours were flawless. Were it not for the blight at the center of her face, she might have been called attractive, even pretty. She stood to speak, flipping a charcoal-colored cape over her shoulders to reveal body- contouring chain mail and leathers that accentuated her lean, muscular, human form. Her voice was throaty. It had long ago lost its timbre, sounding now as if she had tossed back too many shots of hard liquor. 'They're not in Surd nor indeed in any part of Sembia. My assassin troops and I tortured and killed any who might have knowledge of the whereabouts of an ioun stone.'
'And you found nothing? Two weeks gone from these parts, and you brought back nothing?'
'I didn't say that, master. I said I brought back no ioun stones. Blood ran freely for you and orc slaves carried it back to your temples.' The black-haired assassin gestured to a shimmering mound in front of the
