Adyan nodded. 'Yes. The plantain trees are just that way,' and he pointed in the near-darkness, 'and the pond where we found-' he stopped himself then, pointing but not finishing the thought.
'Of all the ridiculous luck,' Horial said, bracing himself as Edilus took hold of the first arrow, the one in his knee. When the druid jerked the missile out, Horial had to clench his teeth to keep from yelling. 'How did Tymora see fit to drop us right here?' he asked after he got his breath back.
Edilus handed the sergeant a little leather pouch. 'Eat it,' he said, moving around to Horial's shoulder.
Opening the pouch, the sergeant could see something gray and moist inside. It did not look tasty. As Edilus took hold of the second arrow, Horial tipped the pouch back and let the contents slide down his throat. The mixture tasted sour, but he did not have long to reflect on it, for Edilus yanked hard.
Horial squeezed his eyes shut to deal with the burning pain, but whatever Edilus had given him warmed his body and eased the discomfort. He suspected it might have been some druidic variation of a temple-issue healing potion. Soon, his wounds had closed and he felt good enough to walk. He climbed to his feet and peered around.
'So,' Horial asked of no one in particular, 'which is the fastest way out of here?'
'Through the front gates,' Adyan said.
'Yes, I'm sure that the guards won't bat an eye as three members of the Sapphire Crescents and a fellow from the distant woods go strolling past with no explanation of how they came to be on the grounds,' Horial said wryly. 'That's not one of your better plans.'
'I'm serious,' Adyan replied. 'We might look a little odd, but tonight's Sammardach. Next to Spheres and the Night of Ghosts, it's one of the biggest parties of the season. Why shouldn't we be visiting the Generon tonight?'
'Sammardach,' Horial said, musing. 'That just might work,' he agreed. 'Though it's pretty late to still be here.'
Adyan shrugged. 'We got to drinking with some stable hands,' he offered, 'or we got lost in the gardens and had to find our way out. Sounds reasonable to me. The palace is huge, after all.'
Horial shrugged, too. 'Let's do it,' he said.
Grolo snorted. 'What was that you were saying about Tymora?' he muttered as the four of them began to push through the bushes, forcing their way out from the forgotten arbor.
'I was saying,' Horial answered, shoving aside a low-hanging branch dripping with moisture, 'that we ought to remember to drop a coin in her fountain next time we pass by. And I thought we were done tromping through wet bushes in the middle of the night,' he added, drawing a soft, if brief, chuckle from the rest of the Crescents.
It did not take them long to break through onto open ground. Once they were visible, the group began to stroll casually, trying to look as if they had just been meandering through the grounds of the palace, minding their own business at the party. A couple of times, Horial suggested to Edilus that it wasn't necessary to prowl, but the druid couldn't quite grasp the concept of acting natural.
Or rather, Horial realized, he's acting as naturally as he knows how. He's probably never been to a city before.
Indeed, as Horial watched, Edilus stared about in wonder and amazement at the grand edifice known as the Generon. More than once, the sergeant thought he saw the druid shake his head in dismay or heard him mutter some unintelligible expletive, but otherwise, Edilus seemed able to keep calm.
The foursome made its way across the grounds and along the paths toward the front of the palace, where the gates stood, and Adyan began to whistle a cheerful tune as they walked. They spotted a guard or two along the way, and both times they were given careful scrutiny, but no one challenged them.
Before long, the gates came into view at the end of a long path that wound its way toward the bottom of the hill, and it seemed that the group was in the clear. Horial actually sighed in mild relief, thankful for the small favors of both Waukeen and Tymora, when Edilus suddenly stopped and cocked his head as if listening.
'What is it?' Grolo asked, stopping beside the druid. 'What's wrong with you?'
In answer, Edilus darted off the pathway and into the nearby bushes, disappearing into the undergrowth.
'What the-?' Horial groaned, and he dashed after the druid. 'Edilus, no! We can't go that way!' As he neared the spot where Edilus had vanished, though, he heard a grunt and a sudden rustling, and someone gave a muffled shout.
Eternal damnation, Horial thought, grabbing for his blade as he carefully shoved through the outer layer of foliage. What's he unearthed in there?
There was another muted shout, and someone cursed, a string of expletives favored among mercenaries. Horial swore in return and pushed deeper into the greenery, aware that Adyan was right behind him. He spotted a break in the growth ahead of him and detected movement, so he forced a path that way, stumbling through just as Edilus popped up on the other side, yanking another figure along with him. The druid shoved the figure forward and Horial was startled to see a second form down on the ground, a man who was rubbing his head gingerly. As the first one dropped down beside the second, Horial noted that he was dressed as a Waukeenar, an Abreeant, in fact.
'Ow!' the figure cried as he landed on his hands and knees. 'By Brightwater, you're strong!' he said, rubbing his wrist where Edilus had gripped him. Then the Abreeant looked up at Horial with a look of both recognition and concern upon his face. 'Who are you?' the priest asked, a fellow a few years younger than the sergeant. He sounded fearful.
Instead of answering the priest, Horial turned on Edilus. 'What the blazes are you doing?' he demanded. 'We were almost to the gate!'
'I could smell these two hiding in here,' the druid replied. 'And I suspected they were doing something untoward.'
Horial had to clench his hands together to keep from reaching up to grab the druid by his collar. 'First of all, it's none of our business why they are hiding in here. We were hiding in the bushes a few moments ago, too, remember?' When the druid merely scowled, Horial continued. 'And second of all, even if they are up to no good, it's not our fight tonight. We have more important things to deal with.'
'Horial?' the young priest asked, startling the sergeant out of his admonition.
The mercenary looked down, surprised. 'Do I know you?'
The Abreeant shook his head. 'No, but I'm in contact with someone who knows you, and she's very glad to see you. You know Hetta Matrell?'
Horial nearly choked, then he sank down and pressed his finger against his mouth, signaling for the younger man to speak quietly. 'Gods and demons, boy! How in the Nine Hells do you know Hetta Matrell?' he asked in a near-whisper.
The young man might have smiled, though it was hard for Horial to be sure in the dim light. 'That's a very long story, but suffice it to say that we're on the same side tonight.'
Horial's eyes narrowed. 'How do I know you're speaking straight with me?' he demanded.
The Abreeant didn't reply for a long moment, and he said, 'Hetta tells me to remind you of all the times she had to swat your fanny for crushing her hoplilies when you, Adyan, and Vambran would use her garden wall as a shortcut.'
Horial stood there for a long moment, stunned. No one but Hetta, Adyan, and Vambran himself would have remembered something from his childhood.
He threw his head back then and just laughed, and Adyan was chortling too, right beside him. He tried to keep his laughter quiet, and for the most part he succeeded, but the whole situation was too comical for him to control his mirth. Finally, wiping a tear from his cheek, Horial caught his breath. 'You sold me,' he said, still chuckling. 'Where is darling Hetta?'
At that question, the Abreeant seemed to wilt slightly. He held out his hand, offering something to Horial. The sergeant caught a glint of red, and he reached out and clutched at a jeweled ring.
Horial nearly dropped the ring.
