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“Am I answerin’ to her orders?”

Sergen thought about that for a moment. “Unless Kara’s orders are clearly inept or otherwise unacceptable, yes,” he said. “Do your best to do as she asks, and give her the benefit of your experience and counsel. I’m sending you to make sure that the Bloody Skulls are stopped before they reach Hulburg, and I want you to do what you think is needful to accomplish that goal.”

The dwarf nodded. “All right. If there’s nothing else you’re needin’, then, I’ve got a lot t’ do in the next few hours.”

“There’s one more thing,” Sergen said. “I’ll need about thirty of your men-most of them humans-for a special assignment here in Hulburg, a very sensitive assignment. I’ll need them to be waiting at the Dareth storehouse on East Street by noon on the tenth. It would be best if they arrived in small groups, scattered over the morning, and didn’t wear any identifying colors or insignia.”

The dwarf chewed on his pipestem and eyed Sergen thoughtfully. “Will me lads be livin’ through your special assignment?”

“Yes, in fact, it’s important that they do. But I’m afraid they will have to leave town immediately afterward. I plan to have a ship ready to leave at first light for that purpose.”

“All right. I’ll give ’em orders t’ make their way back to Thentia or Melvaunt after you’re done with them.” Kendurkkel leaned forward and took his pipe from his mouth, pointing the stem at Sergen. “Now, just so we see eye t’ eye, m’lord: Exceptional missions an’ arrangements o’ that sort demand an exceptional bonus. I need t’ know what you’ve got in mind for me lads.”

Sergen bowed his head in acquiescence and spread his hands. “Well, Master Kendurkkel, it seems that House Veruna is going to do something terrible three nights from now. Your men are going to make sure that everyone knows who was responsible.” After all, he added to himself, he wouldn’t want to become harmach while he was so deeply indebted to Darsi Veruna.

TWENTY-TWO

9 Tarsakh, the Year of the Ageless One

The Council Watch soldiers removed Geran from his cell during the dark hour before sunrise. At first he feared that he was to be driven out to some lonely spot in the Highfells and killed, but to his surprise the council men took him to Griffonwatch. They drove the prison wagon up the causeway and through the gatehouse, stopping by the Shieldsworn barracks. A moment later the heavy chains securing the wagon’s door rattled, and the two guards riding in the back with Geran rose and helped him to the door.

When he clambered out of the wagon’s dim interior, Geran found Hamil and Sergeant Kolton of the Shieldsworn waiting for him with five more council guards. “There you are, Geran,” Hamil said. “Are you hurt at all?”

“Nothing important, though I’ve got a broken tooth I hope to have mended. What’s going on here? Am I to be released?”

“Not yet,” the halfling answered. “The harmach struck a deal with the Merchant Council. I think that he’s agreed that you’ll face charges under Hulburg’s law. In exchange the council’s agreed to allow you to be held here in Griffonwatch until a trial can be arranged. But they’ll have a detachment of their own watch to stand guard, just to make sure that the harmach doesn’t release you.”

Geran grimaced. It was undoubtedly better to be held in Griffonwatch, simply because he wouldn’t have to fear being murdered in his cell or otherwise made to disappear. And he likely had little to fear from a trial under Hulburg’s laws. But the harmach must have staked his own honor on Geran’s good behavior, so he’d have to endure his incarceration a little longer. “When will my case be decided?”

Sergeant Kolton frowned. “That’s hard to say, Lord Geran. The Bloody Skulls’ve got everything in an uproar.”

“The Bloody Skulls? Did their messengers return?”

Kolton shook his head. “No, they all did. I suppose you ain’t heard”-the sergeant shot the Council Watch soldiers a hard look-“but there’s a bloody great orc horde on its way. Lady Kara’s taken almost all the Shieldsworn up to the northerly watchtowers, and three-quarters o’ the merchant company armsmen too. She left me in command o’ the garrison, can you believe that? Anyway, Lady Kara expects to meet the Bloody Skulls within a day, maybe two.”

Geran felt the weight of the chains on his wrists. As far as he knew he had no great talent for leading armies, but he’d fought as a captain leading a company of the Coronal’s Guard in Myth Drannor, and he wasn’t afraid to cross blades with any orc. If Kolton was right, then Hulburg faced the most immediate peril it had seen during his entire life, and he’d watch it pass by through the bars of a cell. “Tell the harmach that I can help,” he said to Kolton. “If he paroles me to fight, I’ll gladly go back to my cell for as long as I have to once the danger’s passed.”

“The prisoner won’t be set free without the express order of the council,” one of the Watch soldiers said firmly. “The harmach’s got to take it up with Lord Sergen.”

“I know it,” Kolton snapped. He looked back to Geran and motioned toward the doorway leading into the castle. “Well, I suppose I’d better show you to your accommodations, Lord Geran.”

“They’ve given you the best cell in the castle-for what it’s worth,” added Hamil.

The Shieldsworn sergeant led Geran and his Council Watch jailors through the barracks building and into a passageway cut through the rock of the castle’s hilltop. They climbed up a flight of stairs and passed by several storerooms and connecting passageways that led to the castle’s deep cisterns then climbed a few more steps to a row of iron-bound doors of thick wood. Kolton opened the nearest with a set of heavy keys. It was not a very big room, but it had a small square window that looked out over the city to the distant gray line of the Moonsea, a bed, a table and two chairs, a small carpet laid out on the flagstone floor, and even a shelf lined with a dozen books. “We took the liberty o’ furnishing your cell a little more comfortably than we normally would,” Kolton said. “But I’m afraid it’s still a cell. I’ll send a healer to look after your injuries as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Kolton,” Geran said quietly.

“Lord Sergen won’t like this,” the council sergeant said. “He said nothing about providing the prisoner with such comforts.”

“In that case, he didn’t say we couldn’t,” Hamil pointed out. “I heard about that fine room you gave him underneath your Council Hall. Maybe the Shieldsworn should give you beds just as comfortable as the one you gave Geran. After all, nothing requires the harmach to give your men any particular comforts, either.”

The council sergeant chose not to argue the point any further-a wise decision, in Geran’s view. Kolton suppressed a smile and motioned to his council counterpart. “Post a couple o’ men by the door if you like, and I’ll show the rest o’ you to your guardroom and quarters.”

“Very well,” the sergeant said. He detailed off two of his men, who took up positions on each side of Geran’s doorway.

Kolton looked back to Geran and said, “I’m sorry, Lord Geran, but I’ll have to leave the mage shackles on you.”

The swordmage grimaced. His wrists were more than a little sore and bruised, and he wanted the damned manacles off his hands. As long as Harmach Grigor had given his word that he’d make no attempt to escape, Geran wouldn’t use his magic. But at least the cell looked like a substantial improvement on the old one. “It’s not your fault, Kolton,” he said.

“These fellows’ll be standing watch, but there will always be a couple o’ Shieldsworn within earshot. Just shout if you need anything.” Kolton touched his hand to his brow in salute and backed out of the cell with the Council Watch leader following him.

“As much as I’d like to stay here and entertain you, I’m afraid I have some things to look after in town,” Hamil said.

“Things to look after?”