'That things are not always as they appear on the surface, and in order to combat evil, one must see a situation not as one thinks it is or should be, but rather as it truly is.' Leontis looked at Diran then. 'You taught that to me tonight, my friend, and I am grateful.'
Diran smiled and nodded his acceptance of Leontis's thanks.
Tusya stood, groaning at the stiffness in his joints. 'I think it's time we returned to our camp and got some rest don't you? There's a village not far from here, and once our strength is restored, perhaps we'll pay the good folk who live there a visit and see if there's anything three faithful servants of the Silver Flame might be able to do for them.'
Diran and Leontis rose to their feet.
'And perhaps we'll see if they have some inexpensive wine for sale?' Diran teased.
Tusya grinned.
Diran walked over to the fountain and sat beside Leontis.
'I thank you for your earlier assistance, my friend. If you hadn't arrived when you did, I'd most likely be one with the Flame right now, and Ghaji would have the burden of my death on his hands. Even though he wasn't in control of his actions at the time, he would still feel responsible.'
Leontis didn't look at Diran as he replied. 'I was glad to help, but I really didn't do much. You had the situation well in hand before I arrived.'
'Remember what Tusya always told us: 'Humble or grand-''
''-all good actions brighten the Flame's light in the world.'' A ghost of a smile crossed Leontis's face. 'I haven't forgotten.'
The entire time he'd been in the courtyard, Diran had felt uneasy, as if evil were present nearby, though for some reason it seemed muted and restrained. He'd put the feeling down to the lingering aftereffects of the Fury, but now that he sat close to Leontis, he could tell the evil he felt was centered on his fellow priest. Something was seriously wrong, and Diran felt confident that was the reason Leontis had kept himself apart from the others while they talked in the courtyard.
'It is good to see you, my brother,' Diran said. 'It's been too many years since last we saw one another. I would like to think you sought me out for old times' sake, but I suspect otherwise. Something is clearly troubling you. Tell me what it is.'
Diran reached out to put his hand on Leontis's shoulder, but the other priest jerked away, as if he feared Diran's touch.
'I… I would prefer that you do not lay hands on me,' Leontis said.
Diran frowned, but he withdrew his hand. 'Of course.' He waited several moments for Leontis to continue speaking, but his fellow priest remained silent, and Diran knew that whatever matter was plaguing his friend was so serious that Leontis couldn't bring himself to discuss it, even though that was surely why he had come to Diran.
'May I see your arrowhead?'
Diran was puzzled by Leontis's request, but he removed the holy symbol from the pocket where he kept it and held it out for his fellow priest to take. But instead of reaching out for the arrowhead, Leontis turned his palm up and waited. Even before he dropped the silver symbol into his friend's hand, Diran had a bad feeling, and once the metal touched Leontis's flesh that feeling was confirmed by the sound and smell of sizzling meat. Diran quickly snatched back the arrowhead, but the damage was done: a blackened scorch mark in the shape of the holy symbol had been seared onto Leontis's palm.
As Diran stared at the mark in horror, Leontis gave him a sad, grim smile.
'I've come to ask you to kill me, my friend… for old times' sake.'
CHAPTER TEN
The setting sun cast an orange sheen on the gray water of Kolbyr's port, creating an illusion of warmth. A poor illusion, Ghaji thought, considering the wind felt as if it were blowing down from the top of a glacier. The half- orc, Yvka, Tresslar, Hinto, Solus, and Asenka were walking down Kolbyr's dock back toward the wharf, their destination a tavern called the Ill Wind.
Asenka had already spoken with the harbormaster about hiring a ship, and since they had a letter of credit from Baroness Calida, the man was only too happy to make recommendations-especially since the letter promised him a substantial finder's fee if he could find them transport as quickly as possible. He'd given Asenka several names, but he'd told her that if it what she was looking for was a swift vessel, the Turnabout was their best bet.
'She's a galleon,' Asenka explained to the others when she rejoined them. 'A fast one, too. Faster than she should be given her size, according to the harbormaster. He suspects magical enhancement of some sort, though there's nothing obvious about the ship to indicate what kind. She's anchored not far offshore. The harbormaster is going to send the captain a message to let him know we'd like to hire his vessel and how much we're willing to pay. The harbormaster seems to think the captain will at least want to talk with us, and he suggested we wait for him at a nearby tavern.'
After that, they walked to the end of the dock to take a look at the Turnabout. She lay at anchor a quarter mile from the port-a bit farther than convenient, Ghaji thought. Almost as if the captain wanted to keep people from getting a close look at his vessel. Or perhaps so the ship was far enough out to sea in case there was a sudden need for hasty departure. A pirate ship, he decided, though in the Principalities any vessel might suddenly fly raider's colors if the need-or for that matter, the whim-arose. Lhazaarites were nothing if not pragmatic, and given the harsh environment in which they lived, Ghaji supposed he couldn't blame them.
Despite the harbormaster's words, the Turnabout didn't look like anything special, just a typical three-masted galleon. She didn't leave the shipyard yesterday, but she wasn't ready to be scuttled and sent to her final rest at the bottom of Lhazaar, either. Ghaji figured it likely that the harbormaster had made up the ship's mysterious reputation for speed in the hope that they'd book passage and he'd get his finder's fee before they discovered the vessel was slower than a leaky tugboat with a broken rudder and a hold full of lead ingots.
None of the others were impressed by the galleon's appearance, either, but they agreed that they might as well head for the Ill Wind and hear what the Turnabout's captain had to say. They found the tavern easily enough, and though it was crowded, once Ghaji stalked in glaring, a table near the back suddenly became free. The companions sat, ordered drinks that only a man with his tongue cut out would've believed was ale, and settled in to wait for the Turnabout's captain to show-assuming he was interested in doing business with them at all.
The atmosphere in the tavern was subdued due to the aftereffects of the Fury. Patrons talked quietly among themselves or sat silent and alone, struggling to come to terms with the violence that had occurred-and which they'd all participated in one way or another. Tresslar, Hinto, Yvka, and Solus talked for a while, sharing stories of the difficulties they'd experienced during the Fury, but instead of contributing to the conversation, Ghaji only listened in moody silence.
After a while, Yvka had had enough of his being withdrawn, and she elbowed him in the side none too gently to get his attention. She then learned close to his ear and whispered, 'What's bothering you?'
Ghaji remembered how uncomfortable Yvka had seemed around him in the palace courtyard after the Fury had ended. 'I know that your… profession prevents you from telling me certain things, and I accept that. But if there was anything that I really needed to know-about us, I mean…'
Yvka smiled and touched his cheek with her long, delicate fingers. 'Come now, Ghaji. You know how I feel about you.'
Yvka gave him a quick kiss, a smile, and a wink. Ghaji returned the smile, but inside he was thinking: Does anyone ever truly know how another feels about them?
The harsh, unforgiving light of the desert sun blazed down upon the Talenta Plains, causing sweat to pour off Ghaji's body as the half-orc hacked away at one zombie after another. One good thing about fighting the undead creatures-the only good thing, as far as Ghaji was concerned-was that they were slower than living foes.
