With one hand, she made a point of pressing Ren away, while with the other, she appeared to be holding fast to the belt he had offered to help her remove. "I'll get it myself, thank you!" she said tartly. The paper-thin gauntlet Ren had slipped her remained unseen inside one of her big hands, and as she fumbled with the buckle, she was able to press the gauntlet-and the ioun stones inside it-into the Cloth of Many Pockets for safekeeping.
From the shadows of a doorway, Gensor watched the two companions. He suspected that something, physical or verbal, had passed between them, but he hadn't actually seen anything.
Tarl bridled at Ren, no more aware than the guard of what was really transpiring between the two. With angry deliberateness, not uttering a word, he slapped down his hammer, his shield, his armor, and the treasure of the textile house without so much as a word. But when the young guard insisted he remove his sacred medallion, he said coldly, "You'll have to kill me first."
"Come now, there'll be no need for that." Cadorna strolled into the courtyard. His gray eyes were glued to the gold bullion Ren had just removed from his pack.
"What do you mean by having us arrested for doing your bidding?" Shal turned on Cadorna with a look not unlike the one she'd given the gnolls at the textile house before blasting them to dust.
"No need to be so testy, young woman," Cadorna replied smoothly. "Obviously these fine guards misunderstood my intent. I wanted them only to escort you here safely so that no one would have the opportunity to rob you of your treasure."
" 'No one' meaning us?" Ren asked pointedly.
"Naturally I wanted to see everything you brought back with you."
"Are you reneging on your promise to give a percentage of the treasure to the Tyrian temple?" asked Tarl.
"Why, Brother Tarl! I'm offended that you would suggest such a thing. In fact, I just wanted to be sure your partners were honest in providing all the treasure so the temple would be sure to get its fair share."
"I trust my friends," said Tarl.
"I trust no one," retorted Cadorna, his face growing cold. After examining everything carefully, the councilman assembled the treasure into one pile. A crooked, toothy smile pasted on his face, he handed a single gold brick and the coral and ivory brooch to Tarl. "For the temple. Quite generous, don't you think?"
Tarl clenched his teeth but nodded reluctantly. The portion was nowhere near fifteen percent of the treasure, but he knew he would receive no more and that the temple could do worse than inherit a gold brick and an emerald brooch.
"You're free to go now," Cadorna said finally. "I do thank you all. You will help me out again if I need it, won't you?"
9
All of Phlan and the entire Moonsea was awash in the tumult of a terrific thunderstorm. Lightning ripped through the sky in every direction, and deafening thunder reverberated for tens of miles. A person versed in weather and the natural pattern of things might have noticed that the lightning was almost perverse in its configuration, bolting upward and outward from one point and shattering the sky in an unnatural purple brilliance, but most people were undoubtedly more than content to huddle in their homes, hoping they were out of reach of what the next day they surely would refer to as "a demon storm."
Not far from the heart of the storm, at the northeastern edge of the ruins of Phlan, stood Valjevo Castle, a structure that even in its present decrepit state dwarfed the ruins that abutted it. Awe-inspiring despite its fallen walls and toppled turrets, the castle must once have been one of the largest in the Realms. No doubt fantastic works of magic had been required to move the gargantuan slabs of marble and granite used in its construction. Those few who had seen the castle since the Dragon Run were amazed that the dragons had been able to raze even portions of its great walls, and in fact, much of the castle and the fortress around it was still intact.
Despite damage to parts of its structure, the castle stood several stories by any measurement and remained among the tallest buildings in the Realms. Its toppled turrets must once have reached one hundred feet or more. Now, almost that far beneath the castle, the great bronze dragon shifted in its resting place in the curve of the Pool of Radiance.
"Shall I have no peace?" The beast's voice boomed and echoed against the golden walls of the cave. "The ground shudders with magic that is not my own, power that is not mine! What say you, Quarrel? Where are my ioun stones?"
A curious figure, lying prostrate before the dragon, lifted its head. Shimmering black hair parted to reveal the face of a half-orc woman. But for her piglike snout, she could have passed for human. Her eyes, mouth, and facial contours were flawless. Were it not for the blight at the center of her face, she might have been called attractive, even pretty. She stood to speak, flipping a charcoal-colored cape over her shoulders to reveal body-contouring chain mail and leathers that accentuated her lean, muscular, human form. Her voice was throaty. It had long ago lost its timbre, sounding now as if she had tossed back too many shots of hard liquor. "They're not in Surd nor indeed in any part of Sembia. My assassin troops and I tortured and killed any who might have knowledge of the whereabouts of an ioun stone."
"And you found nothing? Two weeks gone from these parts, and you brought back nothing?"
"I didn't say that, master. I said I brought back no ioun stones. Blood ran freely for you and orc slaves carried it back to your temples." The black-haired assassin gestured to a shimmering mound in front of the dragon. "Treasure such as few have dreamed of lies at your feet. And, as I said, you can rest assured that there are no ioun stones in any corner of Sembia." She paused and let her cold, black eyes be mesmerized by the dragon's blazing gold ones. "I am ready for my next assignment."
The dragon switched its giant tail into the pool.
"Yesssss…" It hissed warmly as energy channeled from blood spilled in a dozen temples surged through the golden water, charging the beast with its power. "So you are, Quarrel." The dragon shifted once more, lowering itself deeper into the burbling waters. The great wyrm grunted its satisfaction as the water's powers continued to invigorate its lifeblood. "Three wretched humans have destroyed one of my temples, in the process slaughtering most of an entire gnoll encampment. Still another part of my city has been taken over by human scum because of their cursed interference. They are the same three I spoke to you of before."
Quarrel nodded, remembering her master's fury after the party recovered Sokol Keep for Civilized Phlan. When she returned, she had expected to hear of the party's demise at the hands of any of the thousands of creatures in the service of the Lord of the Ruins. Certainly none within range of his tremendous power had missed the message to kill the three on sight.
"Yes, they still live," the dragon snarled, as if reading Quarrel's mind. "Cowards faced them and died at their hands. Now I'm trusting you, Quarrel, to either convert them to our cause-my cause-or kill them like worms. Unlike most of the creatures I control, you can pass freely into the civilized part of the city…"
Quarrel clenched and unclenched her hand around the hilt of her favorite dagger. The Lord of the Ruins would never know how many had died because they harassed her or made some unflattering reference to her nose.
"You have all of my resources at your disposal," the huge dragon went on. "With two more ioun stones, I will be able to complete the figure of power." Slowly the giant creature reached up and put a taloned appendage on the hexagon that already held an ioun stone in four of its six corners. "When these two last holes are filled, I will be able to control elves, dwarves, even humans. But in the meantime, you must learn what motivates those three. Promise them anything, but get them working for me-or bring me their miserable flesh and blood, and let it fill my pool. If you succeed, your reward will be-"