Caledan looked up to make a sign to Mari, but the window in the tower was empty. The Harper was already gone. Now it was time for Caledan's part.
Quickly he tossed down a coil of rope he had securely anchored to the bridge's balustrade. He slid down the line and landed on the platform. Tyveris, hood fallen back and robe in tatters, had just one more prisoner to free-Ferret.
"You know, this probably makes you a heretic in the Church of Cyric," Caledan commented.
"I can live with that," Tyveris replied. With his bare hands he snapped the rope around Ferret's neck. The little roan snatched away the sack that covered his face, then his beady eyes went wide. He stared at Tyveris, his nose twitching. "I must be dead already. Tyveris, you look like a monk!"
"I am a monk, you weasel," Tyveris bellowed, reaching out to catch the small man in an embrace. Ferret's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
"You're breaking me," he gasped. He wormed his way out of Tyveris's grip.
"Let's save the joyous reunions for later, all right?" Caledan told them. "We're not out of here yet." Some guards were regrouping and were getting ready to charge the platform. "All right, everybody, up the-" rope, he was going to say, but the pounding of hooves interrupted him.
Five iron-shod chargers thundered into the square. Astride four of them were Zhentarim warriors clad in the livery of the city guard, their short swords drawn and ready for violence. On the fifth horse rode a figure both Caledan and Tyveris recognized, a massive man with blood soaking through the large bandage covering his nose. The priest of Cyric.
"I guess I should have hit him harder," Tyveris grumbled darkly. Ferret, who needed no further prompting, scrambled nimbly up the rope.
"I'll bring up the rear," Caledan said. The big Tabaxi nodded and followed the thief, swiftly pulling his bulk up the rope.
One of the square's three exits had been blocked by rubble from the smoke powder blast. Now the four mounted Zhents moved to guard the other two arches leading from the plaza. As they did, the priest of Cyric gripped a hideously twisted amulet of dark, wrought steel that hung about his neck. He began shouting something in a harsh, foul-sounding tongue.
Ferret and Tyveris had reached the bridge above. Caledan leaped onto the rope and began hauling himself up, arm over arm.
A low groaning sound shook the air when Caledan was only halfway to the bridge. Suddenly there was a deafening crack. Caledan briefly wondered if it was another smoke powder explosion, then heard Tyveris shouting frantically. Caledan looked away from the rope and nearly lost his grip in his utter shock. The Gray Watchers were moving. The priest's chanting had mounted to a triumphant crescendo. The two massive statues slowly, ponderously pushed themselves up from their thrones of basalt. The circlets around their brows glowed vile purple, the same color as the magical aura surrounding the priest's amulet. "Caledan, watch out!" Ferret called down. The words spurred Caledan to action. He scrambled farther up the rope barely in time to avoid a startlingly swift blow from the statue of the ancient queen. For a moment he found himself gazing directly into the soulless eyes of the statue. He kept climbing.
"No offense-I mean, I appreciate this and all-but you two didn't plan this escape all that well, did you?" Ferret asked.
"Well we don't all have your extensive experience with escaping," Tyveris rumbled angrily. The big monk stood on the edge of the bridge and spread his arms in a mirror image of the priest of Cyric. He began chanting in a flowing, musical language, trying to drown out the evil priest's dark prayers. The gigantic statue stepped closer to Caledan, wounded guards crushed unnoticed beneath its feet. The statue of the king was still rising from its throne, reaching toward its full height, five times that of a man.
"Andebari al Oghma, al d'bai altanl" Tyveris roared. "In the Name of the Binder, may evil's enchantment be shattered!"
Suddenly the priest of Cyric let out a strangled cry. The circlet about the stone queen's brow flared brilliantly, shattering into countless splinters of stone. The statue halted Then slowly, almost gracefully, it toppled to the street smashing the cobbles as it struck, shaking the very foundations of the city.
But the statue of the king showed no such reaction. It continued to move toward Caledan, who dangled halfway up the rope.
"Hurry, Caledan!" Tyveris shouted down. His face looked ashen and haggard. "I dispelled the magic coursing through one of the statues, but I don't think I can break the enchantment in the other!"
Meanwhile, the priest of Cyric had regained his composure, and his chanting rippled forth once again as he gripped the steel amulet.
"Allow me," Ferret said. He took the knife Tyveris had used to cut the prisoners' ropes and hefted it experimentally, testing its weight. Then he let if fly with a precise, expert throw.
The priest's chanting abruptly stopped.
The flabby disciple of Cyric slipped from the back of his horse, Ferret's knife embedded deep in his throat. Blood flowed out to pool with the grime of the street. The purple glow of the amulet flickered, faded. The statue of the nameless king slowed to a halt.
Then a rivulet of the dead priest's blood trickled across the steel amulet. The dark blood hissed and steamed. The purple aura strengthened and grew brilliant once again. Blood flowed more quickly toward the amulet now, defying gravity as it rose from the cobbles to the evil symbol.
The stone king began to move, once more, toward Caledan.
"Uh-oh," was all Ferret said.
The statue of the king reached out a hand of granite to crush Caledan.
Caledan's arms were going numb. He wasn't going to make it.
"Break the king's circlet, Caledan!" Tyveris bellowed. "It's the heart of its power!"
The stony fingers, each as thick as a tree branch, began to close about Caledan. There wasn't time to think. Holding on to the rope with one hand, he drew his sword. Just as the cold, hard fingertips brushed against his chest he swung the rope forward and brought the hilt of his sword down on the circlet resting on the statue's brow.
His hand was thrown back painfully with the force of the blow. The sword clattered to the street far below. The stony fingers closed about his chest, tightening until he could barely breathe-before shuddering to a stop.
His blow had cracked the king's crown. Brilliant purple sparks flared about the dark fissure, sizzling like lightning. The violet glow wavered, then vanished. The gigantic statue lurched precariously to one side. Caledan tried to free himself from its grip, but he was stuck in its grasp. The stone king started to topple.
"Oh, no you don't," Tyveris growled. The loremaster, his chest against the bridge, reached down, just managing to grab Caledan's collar. Caledan felt himself pulled roughly from the stone king's grasp as the statue fell next to its queen. With a grunt Tyveris hauled him up onto the bridge.
Caledan groaned. His shoulders and chest felt as if they were on fire. "I am really far too old for this," he managed between gasps.
"So are we all," Tyveris rumbled wearily, rubbing his aching temples. Breaking the priest's enchantment had left him exhausted.
"Speak for yourself," Ferret replied in his raspy voice, his dark eyes shining.
Caledan could have, he would have strangled the little thief.
The trio made their way westward along a mazework of bridges far above the city streets. Some Zhentarim tried to follow, but the smokepowder blast had blocked the western exit from the plaza. The three companions quickly left the turmoil of the square behind.
Finally they descended to a quiet side street. Estah, clad in simple peasant garb, sat on the bench of a farmer's wagon filled with straw, holding the reins to a pair of ponies. Man was with her.