'Witchweed,' Kestus answered.
'Yes, witchweed. The Karanoks have enough of the cursed plant to stop a legion of wizards. We cannot succeed as long as it remains in the Karanoks' possession. My agents have learned the location of three stockpiles kept within the city limits. If those were eliminated, the forces of Mordulkin could sweep in and take Luthcheq long before new crops grew come next harvest.
'That was what I was hoping your society would accomplish. It is what I'm still hoping you will accomplish.'
'What about your agents?' Muctos asked.
'Unfortunately, I have not heard from them in tendays. I fear they may have been discovered and disposed of.'
'And you expect us to go back into that city of madness? Forget it. Unlike Kestus, I lost everything when I left. I'm not about to throw away my life trying to return.'
'I understand,' Hercubes said. 'You will be welcome here in Mordulkin, if you wish to stay. What about you?' he asked Kestus.
'I'll do it,' Kestus said. 'I owe it to the others to see this through. I'm not sure if I can do it alone, though.'
'I would go, but I think I would be more of a hindrance in my present condition,' Kohtakah said, disappointment thick in his voice.
'I'll go,' Ythnel said. They all turned to look at her.
'There is retribution to be meted out and a debt to be paid.' Ythnel braced herself for the inevitable protest, but all she got were knowing nods from both Kestus and Hercubes.
'Then it is decided. There are a few details to see to, but they can be taken care of in the morning. Tonight you will return to your rooms at the Flaming Griffon and sleep well. What aid I can give will be waiting for you when you leave.
'Farewell, my friends. May Mystra watch over you.'
The carriage rolled past the East Gate and into the city at a leisurely pace. The streets of Luthcheq were filled with revelry, its citizens out in force to celebrate Midwinter. Ythnel pulled her fur jacket tightly around her; the carriage did little to keep the chill of the air out, or the dull roar of the festivities.
'It will probably snow before the night is over,' Kestus commented from his seat opposite Ythnel. 'There's enough moisture in the air.'
Ythnel nodded, wondering what snow would look like. It was a distracting thought, and she shook her head to be rid of it. They were here on dangerous business. A misstep would mean the end. Nervous, she played with the ring given to her by Hercubes Jedea. The three rounded, red stones embedded in the silver band were smooth under her fingertips. The ring stored spells that the wizard had told her would aid in her mission. She had already cast one as they waited in line to enter the city. Her hand moved subconsciously to touch the soft, unmarred skin of her right cheek. 'You look… beautiful.'
The pause caught Ythnel's attention, but Kestus looked away when their eyes met.
'If I had never met you before, I'd.. I'd never recognize you.'
He was right, of course. She looked nothing like the woman who had come to Luthcheq as a governess. Her golden hair was full and shiny, falling in waves just past her shoulders. Deep blue eyes looked out from long eyelashes, separated by a button nose and complemented by lush, pouting lips. A blouse and trousers of flimsy, pale blue silk clung to curves she was not born with. It was all a ruse, bait for a trap.
The carriage came to a halt with a lurch. Kestus opened the door and stepped out then turned to lend a hand to Ythnel. Their breaths were puffs of white in the air between them.
'Are you ready?' Kestus asked, continuing after she nodded. 'Naeros favors three taverns in his carousing: the Black Mercy, the Vampire's Tooth, and Bale's Bones. Two of them are a few blocks north of here; the other is on the southern end of town. Be careful. I'm not going to be there to back you up.'
'I know.'
'No, I mean I won't be helping with the rest. Taking care of the witchweed is going to be up to you. I have my own score to settle first, and I don't know how long it will take me. Hells, I don't even know if I'll succeed.' Kestus gave a quick laugh.
'I understand,' Ythnel said calmly. 'You do what you have to. May Loviatar bless your endeavor.' She gave him a small kiss on the cheek and stood back. There was a question in his eyes, and his mouth twisted as though he wanted to say something, but he merely nodded and got back into the carriage. Ythnel watched it pull off down the street and disappear into the frolicking masses. Then she turned and headed north.
The Vampire's Tooth was a sailor's tavern. It sat right across from the piers, a long, squat building that blended well with the dockside warehouses surrounding it. Thin slashes of light escaped through the warped wood of shuttered windows and the battered door. Ythnel's nose wrinkled at the unique combination of salty sea air and fermented alcohol that exuded from the Tooth like the poisonous breath of some great green dragon. It was hard for her to imagine that a self-important noble such as Naeros would patronize such an establishment. Of course, the most unlikely people always wound up where you least expected them. Some of the visitors to the manor back in Bezantur would have certainly raised eyebrows were their appetites ever to be made known publicly.
Steeling herself, Ythnel pushed through the door and hit a wall of sound. What had been only a muffled hodgepodge of noise outside transformed into a roar of distinct activities: the knocking of wooden tankards, the booming of raucous laughter, the skidding of heavy furniture dragged across the floor, and the angry shouting of patrons demanding the fulfillment of their desires. Ythnel stood in the doorway, stunned. Waves of silence rippled out from her as those closest took notice and all eyes were turned upon her.
'If you're lost, darlin', I'll be more'n happy ta take ya home.' The anonymous catcall brought a chorus of chuckles and snapped Ythnel out of her momentary daze. Disguised as she was, she could not afford to be caught off guard in a place like this. Confidence would be her greatest weapon. Holding her chin up, Ythnel strode toward the bar, ignoring the lecherous leers from patrons and the hateful glares of the wenches who normally serviced the Tooth's clientele. She scanned the booths and tables as she crossed the sawdust-covered floor but saw no sign of Naeros.
When she reached the bar, there was nowhere to stand or sit. A tall, husky man with a clean-shaved pate and a gold hoop in his right ear shoved another patron who had passed out on a stool. A puddle of drool had formed around his head as it lay on the bar. The push sent the unconscious drunk to the floor, where he continued to snore. Ythnel nodded and took the seat, ordering a tankard of ale from the scruffy bartender.
'So what brings a pretty lady like yourself to this fine establishment?'' the husky man asked.
'I'm meeting someone here,' Ythnel said, avoiding the man's gaze by searching the crowd.
'Ya shore ya in da right place?' the tavern master asked when he returned with her drink.
'Actually, no,' she replied, turning to look at the round face covered in splotches of short, bristly hair. 'Is Lord Naeros here?'
'I ain't seen 'im,' the bartender said, a knowing grin growing on his mouth, 'an' I don' reckon 'e gonna be 'ere tonight.' Ythnel nodded, set down her untouched tankard along with a few coins, and got up to leave.
'Where you goin', pretty?' The husky man was suddenly in front of her, his stained vest and the barely contained flesh underneath filling her view. 'Just 'cause your 'lord' ain't here don't mean you gotta leave.'
'You're quite right,' Ythnel said, smiling. 'I could certainly enjoy myself with such a fine specimen as yourself.' She leaned in, her eyes smoldering, and wet her lips with a lick of her tongue.
'Now, that's what I'm talking abouuhn.' The man grunted as Ythnel delivered a blow to his solar plexus, followed with a heel to his left knee. She gave him another fist just under his sternum, and the man crumpled to the floor on his side. Ythnel stepped over him, ignoring the gaping jaws of the remaining patrons, and left the Vampire's Tooth.
The Black Mercy was only a few blocks west of where Kestus had dropped her off. It was a flat-roofed, single-story building of white stone from which rolled the sounds of merrymaking to mix with the noise of the crowds in the streets outside. Ythnel stood across the street for a few moments, watching well-dressed men and women coming and going from the tavern. With its strategic position near the palace and the apparently higher class of clientele, Ythnel was certain she would find her prey here. She made her way through the celebrants and entered the tavern.
A minstrel played upon a stage to the left. There were tables spread across the center of the taproom,
