The soldiers around him nodded, mumbled agreement.
Ansril gulped. Aumraeya blanched.
"You mischaracterize us," she said. "We do not cower. Matters are complex. You, of all people, should understand that."
Tamlin could not keep the contempt from his voice. "I understand that you have failed me and this city. I understand that you are wasting my time while an army prepares to assault these walls."
Ansril said, "Hulorn, we have fellow priests in Ordulin, in Saerloon, in Urlamspyr. We cannot war against our brothers and sisters in faith. Surely you must-"
Tamlin cut him off. "Did you come here to fight, Ansril, or to explain why you will not? I have no time for the latter."
"Hulorn," Aumraeya said. "You are most-"
Tamlin could no longer bridle his tone. "Begone from here! Now! Before I have you arrested! I have heard all of the excuses I need to hear."
Aumraeya looked as if she had been struck. "Arrested?"
One of Brennus's homunculi chanted, "Arrested, arrested."
Ansril regarded the little creature, Brennus, Rivalen, and Tamlin. He stuttered, finally managed, "There is nothing more for us to say, I see. Come, Aumraeya."
The priests turned around and stalked back to their carriages. Tamlin watched them go, his anger unabated.
"Where is Vees Talendar, I wonder?" asked Rivalen casually.
Before Tamlin could consider the question, a drumbeat from the Saerloonian forces carried over the walls and reminded the men of their business.
"Back to work, lads!" shouted Onthul. "Nothing more to see. Back to it."
As the priests' carriages moved off, Brennus spoke softly to Rivalen and Tamlin. "Ansril or one of the other priests may do something foolish in their anger."
"We do not trust him," whispered the homunculi conspiratorially.
Rivalen met Tamlin's eyes and Tamlin saw in the Shadovar's expression that he did not trust Ansril either. Rivalen said, "Hulorn, he could communicate the composition of our forces to other priests of his faith outside of Selgaunt. Any of them could. If that information were passed to the overmistress or Lady Merelith, it could damage our cause."
Tamlin shook his head, trying to get his thoughts ordered. Too much was coming at him. He had meant the threat to arrest the priests as more bluster than promise. He said, "I do not think Ansril or any of the priests are traitors, Prince."
"I have seen it before," Rivalen said.
Brennus added, "You need not arrest them, merely put them under… observation in a controlled setting."
Tamlin pondered. Ansril was impulsive, and Aumraeya had been red-faced with anger. They could do something foolish. They might regret it afterward, but once done, it would not be something that could be undone. He made his decision, and summoned Onthul to him.
"Hulorn?"
Tamlin looked the tall guard captain in the eyes. "Send men to round up and detain the priests of the temples of Milil, Sune, Oghma, Deneir, Lathander, Tymora, Waukeen, and Lliira."
Onthul's eyes widened. "Imprison them, my lord?"
Tamlin shook his head, glanced at Brennus. "No. Detain them, lest one of them do something… rash. Hold them within my palace. Disarm them, but see that they are comfortable."
Rivalen said, "Tell them you are converting the palace to a battlefield hospital, Captain Onthul. Tell them you are consolidating the priests there to maximize their ability to heal the wounded."
Tamlin nodded. "But they are not to leave, Onthul. And the only spellcasting they are to do is in healing the wounded. Your men have the authority to enforce that edict with steel. Do you understand?"
Onthul did what soldiers did. He accepted his orders. "Yes, Hulorn."
"Trusted men only, Captain Onthul. Experienced men. This is a grave matter."
"Of course, my lord. I have a force in mind."
Tamlin patted his captain on the shoulder and Onthul moved off. When he was gone, Brennus said, "You have done the hard thing but the right thing, Hulorn."
Rivalen put a hand on his shoulder. "You have come far, Tamlin."
Tamlin nodded. He may have done the right thing, and he may have come far, but he still felt dirty.
"Something is happening!" a Scepter shouted from atop the walls.
"Here they come," Rivalen said.
Abelar drove Swiftdawn as hard as he dared. Her flanks heaved under him and sweat foamed her coat. Regg on Firstlight kept pace, but barely. The terrain flew past them in a blur. They stopped periodically to allow the horses a drink and to allow Brend to verify the tracks of the horsemen they pursued.
"They make no effort to hide their passage," Brend said, examining the ground. "I could track them from horseback at a full gallop. They are headed due west, riding hard."
Back to the main body of Forrin's troops, Abelar knew. If Abelar did not catch them soon, they would face not a raiding force, but an entire army.
"We ride harder," he said, and put his heels into Swiftdawn. She reared and tore off across the grasslands. The men followed.
Regg shouted at him over the beat of hooves. "They took Elden to draw us out, Abelar. Or to use against you as a negotiating tool in a forced peace. They will not harm him."
"The overmistress does not want peace," Abelar answered. "And she, or her niece, may want nothing more than to hurt my father and me by hurting Elden. I will not have it, Regg. I will not."
"Nor I," Regg answered.
Several hours later they spotted their prey ahead. The four score raiders rode in loose formation and crested a rise, perhaps half a league ahead of them. Abelar could not make out any details, but he knew Elden was among them. He had to be. Lathander had led him to his son. He said nothing to his men. All of them could see what he saw.
"We are riding out of the sun," Regg shouted to him over the thunder of hooves.
Abelar nodded. That they were.
They lost sight of Forrin's riders the moment the last of them rode over the rise. Abelar whispered to Swiftdawn to give him everything she could and she answered. Abelar knew they were closing the distance. Lathander would not have brought him so far for nothing.
When they topped the rise, he saw the eighty riders galloping east on the grasslands below them. But that was not all he saw. Not half a league ahead of the riders rode a handful of scouts, and behind them, stretching out in a long, dark column of steel and flesh, rode the main force of Malkur Forrin's army.
Abelar halted atop the rise and the rest of the men did the same. Swiftdawn snorted, flanks heaving. The rest of the horses gulped air and whinnied.
Endren unleashed a stream of epithets and Regg did the same.
Forrin's force rode in a line perhaps thirty riders wide. Supply wagons rumbled along in the rear. Shields, armor, and blades caught the setting sun and glinted orange. There were over a thousand men.
The raiders did not know they had been pursued but Forrin's scouts saw Abelar's force. A few pointed and three of them whirled their horses around and sped back to the main body. Another blew a signal on his trumpet while he awaited the approaching raiders-the raiders bearing Abelar's son.
Abelar unslung his shield, drew his blade.
The raiders met up with the scouts, swirled around them. Heads turned to look back on Abelar and his force. Abelar scanned the raiders, looking for Elden. He did not see him, but the riders were too distant for him to make out details.
"Do you see him, Regg? Father?"
Regg leaned forward in the saddle, shook his head.
"It is a blur to me at this distance," Endren said.
"Anyone?" Abelar shouted to his men.
All shook their heads but Roen, known for his sharp eyes. "I think I see him, Abelar. He is slumped in the saddle before another rider. I cannot be sure, but-"