himself.”
“Can you eat your gold?” Sergen asked. “Do you think you can bribe the nothics and chuuls and tall mouthers out in the forest with a few pretty coins? No, you’ll be dead within a day if you run off into the jungle. It seems to me that’s not much of a chance at all.”
“Then we’ll die with our pockets full of gold,” the man snarled. “What else can we do?”
Sergen’s lips twitched toward a smile at the irony. He was not far off from that very situation, but at least he had his armsmen to carry his gold for him. With more boldness than circumstances warranted, he met the Turmishan’s eyes and answered. “Follow me,” he said. “I’m going to make a try for
The bald Turmishan thought about it for a moment, and then he nodded. “Aye, I’m with you. It’s better than anything we had in mind.” The other men looked at each other and then nodded at Sergen or spoke up with an “I, too!” for him.
“Good,” Sergen said. “Leave off there, and come with us, then.” The pirates joined his band, and he set off again, striding along at a quick pace but careful not to run. If he wanted to keep the Black Moon pirates with him, it would be best to affect a calm, deliberate confidence. The last thing he wanted to do was appear desperate, and he did in fact desperately need those pirates. Assuming that he succeeded in taking one of the two ships lying alongside the keep, he’d need at least a few experienced deckhands to help him get home. He knew very little about sailing himself, and his personal armsmen were likely not much better.
They passed through one of the gates-standing open, its guards nowhere in sight-and turned down another passageway. Sergen allowed himself a smile of relief. They’d reached the Erstenwolds without a fight, and that meant he now had hostages he could use if he couldn’t seize the ship he needed by force. He approached the cell where Mirya Erstenwold and her daughter were being held, and his confident footsteps faltered.
The cell was empty. A set of manacles hung around the bars, showing where they’d been pulled apart with a thick wooden lever thrust through the chains.
“The Erstenwolds escaped,” Kerth said-a statement of the obvious if ever Sergen had heard one.
“Clearly,” Sergen snapped. He stared at the empty cell for a long moment, thinking hard. Obviously none of the Black Moon corsairs were responsible. They would have fetched the keys from the master-at-arms in charge of this level instead of bending bars to get her out. Either the Hulburgans had already found her and set the Erstenwolds free, or Mirya had managed her own escape. Either way, he was sorely displeased to discover that he did
He took a breath and then set aside his frustration. The mark of a man’s ability to deal with a crisis was his willingness to make use of the facts as they were, not as he wished for them to be. “Clearly,” he repeated. “Very well, then. If we run into Mistress Erstenwold and her daughter again, we’ll take them with us, but we don’t have the time to search for them now. To the postern, then.”
Sergen led his band of bodyguards and corsairs down through the deserted hallways toward the keep’s side gate. He managed to pick up two more Black Moons along the way, although both were so badly wounded that he doubted they’d be any use to him. Then they reached the dimly lit halls where the keep’s neogi lurked, and turned toward the gate leading toward the dark forest outside. In the mustering hall just inside the gate, they found five of the spiderlike neogi arguing with each other, accompanied by their umber hulk slaves. Four of the hulks were laden with even more treasure than Sergen had seen fit to carry away, and several others watched over a chain coffle with a dozen vacant-eyed captives waiting to be marched away.
The neogi ended their argument as soon as Sergen and his soldiers appeared. “Lord Sergen, this is a disaster!” one of the creatures hissed at him. “You let your enemies follow you here, and they have ruined us! Your carelessness has cost us a very valuable station!”
“I regret the inconvenience,” Sergen retorted. “If you help me throw back the Hulburgan attack, we won’t have to give the place up.”
“Unthinkable!” The spider-monster recoiled in horror, and Sergen snorted to himself. Neogi were cowardly creatures, unless the hope of a rich prize inflamed their avarice and drew them out of their habitual caution. “That would entail exposing ourselves to physical danger! There is no profit in that!”
“Then what use are you?” Sergen retorted. He didn’t care much for the neogi. They were valuable trading partners, of course, since they eagerly bought up any goods the Black Moon carried off from the seas of Faerun. Years ago they’d sold Kamoth the starry compass that made him the master of Neshuldaar, and they’d reaped the benefits of the Black Moon’s depredations. Their spiderlike ships called at the keep from time to time to deal with the human corsairs, and Kamoth was only too happy to let them use the place as a storehouse and port of call. But they were detestable, untrustworthy creatures, and they had no love or loyalty for anyone but themselves.
“Fighting is for slaves,” another of the neogi answered him. “We will take shelter in the moon’s forest and await our clan’s next tradeship. Deal with your foes yourself.”
Sergen started to retort in anger, but he bit back his words. There was no point in antagonizing the creatures … and it might be that he hadn’t found the right way to ask for their help yet. “Fine,” he said. “You need not fight. However, I would like to hire the services of your umber hulks for the day, and I will pay handsomely for them.”
The neogi looked at each other and then back to Sergen. “They are very valuable servants, and there is an excellent chance they might be damaged or killed in battle,” the first one answered him. “Moreover, we cannot be certain of your success. We must reserve several for our own protection in case you fail.”
“Then it is simply a matter of determining how many of your hulks I can use, and fixing a fair price for them.”
The neogi grinned at him, showing a mouthful of needle-sharp fangs. Sergen sighed. The one thing for which neogi could be counted on was to try to exact every loose copper piece in your pocket if they thought they could sell something to you. It took several minutes of hard bargaining, but they soon struck a deal that gave Sergen the use of four of the monsters at an exorbitant rate, which Sergen directed his guards to pay from the chest they carried. He would have struck a better deal with more time to negotiate, but he tried not to concern himself with the details; he was quite possibly buying his freedom, after all, and he might even be able to recoup his expenses by selling the neogi passage on whatever ship he managed to capture. The neogi pulled aside the umber hulks in question and spoke to them in their own language for a moment; the monsters looked at Sergen and bowed their huge heads.
“We have instructed these four to obey your orders,” the neogi said. “They will serve you to the best of their ability until sunset, or until we instruct them otherwise.”
“Very good,” Sergen said. He’d delayed here as long as he dared, but consoled himself with the thought that adding the umber hulks to his improvised little army drastically improved his chances of success. He inclined his head to the small creature. “I think I hear the fighting drawing closer. If you mean to depart the keep, now would seem to be a good time.”
“We will wait and watch from the temple ruins,” the neogi said. “Remember, we expect our property to be returned before we part ways.”
“I understand,” Sergen said. The last thing he intended to concern himself with was returning any remaining umber hulks to their neogi masters, but he didn’t see any reason to tell the horrible little creature that. Then a sudden thought struck him. “One more thing before we go. Do you know the two captives I brought back from Hulburg? A tall, black-haired female and a young, dark-haired girl?”
The neogi peered at him. “I know those two. The small one was badly frightened when she saw us. I told her guards that they should cut out her tongue if she kept making sounds like that. What of them?”
“They escaped from their cell. Have you seen them?”
“Yes,” the monster admitted. “We saw them here at the gate an hour ago. They managed to elude us and flee into the jungle.”
Sergen suppressed his irritation. No doubt the neogi hadn’t bothered to tell the Black Moon about their escaped prisoners because they intended to catch the Erstenwolds and sell them back. Still, he might as well see if he could encourage the neogi mercenary instincts. “They are of some value to me. If you recapture them, I will pay you handsomely for them. Two hundred pieces of gold each.” That was several times the value the neogi would expect for routine slaves; perhaps they’d actually make an effort to track Mirya and her daughter.
