Midnight caressed his face. 'I wouldn't think of it,' she said. 'Secrets are always safe between friends.'
Cyric tilted his head. 'Is that what we are, friends?'
Midnight nodded.
'How interesting,' Cyric said. 'Friends.'
Cyric and Midnight talked long into the night, and when it came Adon's turn to take the watch, Midnight didn't wake him.
By morning, after Kelemvor relieved Midnight of the watch and Cyric had a chance to sleep, the pain from the thief's wound had lessened enough for him to sit up. Cyric even had the strength to eat with the others, although there was nothing more than a few sweetbreads to be had.
After morningfeast, Cyric asked Midnight to bring his bow, and he instructed her on its proper use. Midnight took aim at a large bird that had hovered over the party since morningfeast began. Cyric's instincts combined with Midnight's great strength brought the black bird down, and they roasted its carcass after Adon retrieved the fallen creature.
After a night's rest, Adon's hearing returned to some degree. The first sign of progress came when the cleric no longer required a slight blow from Kelemvor's steel-plated elbow to realize that he was shouting in the fighter's ear instead of speaking at a normal level. And Adon's loss of hearing in no way stopped him from talking. Now, though, he strained to hear himself when he voiced his flowery opinions, as if he could not risk the utter damnation that would certainly follow if his important statements about the righteous path of Sune were not said with the proper timbre and volume.
After the adventurers finished off the roast bird, they packed their belongings and mounted the two remaining horses. Kelemvor was again subjected to Adon's company, and the cart the fighter had built was lashed to Midnight's mount.
The ride was surprisingly comfortable for the wounded thief, despite the sweaty, leathery embrace of the stretcher. Cyric met with only an occasional bump, until late morning, when one of the cart's wheels was shattered on a huge stone in the road and couldn't be repaired. Kelemvor was forced to cut the assembly free and toss it to the side of the road. Cyric rode with Midnight for the remainder of the journey.
A storm had been on the horizon when the heroes first spotted the gates of Tilverton, and the threat of bad weather had hung above their heads ever since. Steel-gray skies stood behind ominous black clouds. Tiny flashes of lightning were visible in the distance all morning, and the roar of far-off thunder drifted across the plains.
A few hours later, they reached the town of Tilverton and were promptly stopped by a group of men wearing white tunics with the insignia of the Purple Dragon. The men seemed tired but alert, and they were filthy. Six crossbows had been readied and aimed at the adventurers even before the leader of the Cormyrian patrol asked to see their charter. Kelemvor found the false charter Adon had bought back in Arabel and offered it to the captain. The patrol leader examined the charter, handed it back, and waived them on. They rode past the patrol, and entered the town without incident.
The adventurers rode into Tilverton tired and without humor. The hour of highsun was upon them, and their stomachs growled like beasts searching for release. Cyric was exhausted from the trip, and as the heroes stopped in front of an inn, the thief tried to get down from Midnight's horse. He got to the ground, but fell back into the red-maned beast with a grunt. His second attempt to walk was only slightly more successful, and he got two steps from the mount, but could go no further.
Midnight dismounted and threw one of the thief's arms around her neck. The magic-user was taller than the thin, dark-haired man, and she had to crouch slightly as she helped Cyric stumble into the inn. Kelemvor and Adon rode in behind Midnight. The cleric, whose hearing had returned to normal, immediately rushed to help Midnight, but the fighter dismounted and led both horses to the stables behind the gray stone inn.
The sign above the door identified the inn as the Flagon Held High. As Midnight and Adon struggled to reach the door handle, they noticed a young man with pale gray eyes sitting in the shadows beside the door.
'Your assistance if you would,' Midnight said as she tried to get a better grip on the sagging thief.
The young man continued to stare directly ahead, ignoring the magic-user's request.
Now, a dirty brown rain started to fall on the city. Midnight struggled with the door, and with Adon's help, the mage dragged Cyric inside. Kicking the door of the inn shut behind her. Midnight helped Cyric to a wooden chair beside the door. At first she thought the inn was deserted, and then she saw a flickering light and heard voices in one of the dining rooms. She called out, but her requests for assistance went unanswered.
'Damn,' she hissed. 'Adon, you stay here with Cyric.' Midnight went off in search of the innkeeper.
As she entered the common room, Midnight saw that it was crowded. Men were scattered throughout the room. Some appeared to be soldiers, bearing the coat of arms of the Purple Dragons. A few had been wounded, although their wounds had been bound. Others appeared to be only civilians. All seemed sullen and withdrawn.
'Where is the innkeep and his help?' Midnight asked the closest soldier.
'Off to pray, I suppose,' the man said. 'It's about that time.'
'It's always about that time,' another men said, nursing his drink.
'I don't understand,' Midnight said. 'No one is here to tend the inn?'
The soldier shrugged. 'There may be a guest or two upstairs. I don't know.' Midnight turned away, but the soldier continued to speak. 'You can just take what you need. No one will care.'
Midnight walked away from the common room, shaking her head. She returned to the foyer of the inn, where Adon was standing beside Cyric.
'Where's Kel?' she said. Adon shrugged and looked back to the door, holding his hands up in confusion.
Midnight cursed again and ran from the inn. She saw Kelemvor's back at the far end of the street, and she called to him. 'Where are you going? You owe me!'
The fighter stopped and lowered his head. What I owe you is to get out of your life, Kelemvor thought. There are too many secrets between us, too many questions that you would not like the answers to.
But he chose not to tell Midnight any of this. Instead, the fighter barked, 'The debt will be paid!' then continued on his way.
Midnight stood trembling for a moment, then she returned to the inn and sat beside Cyric.
'Perhaps he needs time,' Adon said, slightly louder than he should have.
'He can have a lifetime,' Midnight said, her harsh expression falling away as the door opened and she rose to her feet. A white-haired man who had seen more than fifty winters stood in the doorway, his expression cold as he looked to the travelers. He walked by them to a small antechamber and vanished, ignoring Midnight's attempts to get his attention. When he emerged from the room, stinking of some foul liquor, he was surprised that the travelers were still there.
'What do you want?' he asked at last.
'Food, lodgings, perhaps some information — '
The old man waved her away. 'You can take the first two. No one will stop you. Information comes at a price.'
Midnight wondered if the man was mad. 'We have no coin to pay for our lodgings, but perhaps we can provide protection from those who seek to rob you of your valuable services — '
'Rob me!?' the man said, alarmed. 'You misunderstand.' He leaned in close, and the smell of the cheap liquor made Midnight recoil. 'You can't rob what someone no longer cares to keep! Take what you like!'
The man returned to the antechamber. 'I no longer care,' he cried from the dark room.
Midnight looked to the others, then leaned against the wall, defeated. 'Perhaps we should get our things,' she said at last. 'We may be here awhile.'
They brought their gear to the first available room, then Adon took the keys which were hanging behind the counter in the small room where the innkeep lay drunk. The room the heroes took was quite pleasant and came with two beds. Adon settled his things on one bed and went about changing his clothes, indifferent to the magic- user's presence.
It was still raining outside and the room was dark, so Midnight lit a small lantern beside the bed. Adon checked on Cyric with a cursory examination, then set off to explore the city.
Midnight helped Cyric out of his clothes, laughing as the thief actually blushed. 'Have no worry,' Midnight said at one point, 'I'm a complete amateur.'
Cyric winced. 'You're doing fine,' he said as he pulled the covers back up to his chest.
