"So why'd you join the Harpers in particular?"
"May not be a home, but it's a family," he said.
Kehrsyn handed the pin back to him. He took it and replaced it somewhere inside his cloak.
After a pause, he spoke one last time. "Consider that an offer," he said.
Massedar's wagon led them to the Temple of Gilgeam. During the rule of the god-king, who had taken the throne in the stead of his father Enlil some two millennia before, it had been the centerpiece of all life in Messemprar, where the god-king basked in the worship of the lesser beings of his empire. Everything had changed when Tiamat slew Gilgeam, and even after fifteen years the pillars and capitals of the temple still showed some of the blackened smears from the oily fires that had devoured the lives of so many priests. Ever since the excitement of those first heady days had waned, the occasional new graffito still gouged its way into the pillars and walls.
The great pedestal out front was, of course, still empty.
"I hope we never see Bane's likeness erected on Gilgeam's pedestal," Kehrsyn murmured.
"One way or another," replied Demok, "we won't."
After Gilgeam fell, no one really knew what to do with the massive building. No one remotely associated with the priesthood wanted it. The army used it for a while, hoping the tradition of power that emanated from the building would help them maintain control, but even the soldiers didn't want to be there. As the Northern Wizards consolidated their power, they avoided the issue. In the end, the edifice ended up being used for two purposes: barracking foreign mercenaries, as their very presence would further despoil Gilgeam's memory, and executing criminals, as that activity remained very much in line with the building's original purpose.
The foreigners were left to argue among themselves how best to divide the space, so it was easy to understand how the Zhentarim could appropriate some of the subterranean levels for their own nefarious activities.
The wagon rolled around the great, empty pedestal and pulled up at the base of the grand staircase. The massive marble steps stretched almost the entire width of the building and were carved both tall and deep, specifically designed to make even the tallest visitor walk up the steps in the manner of a child.
At the top of the steps, a group of three or four figures stirred. Kehrsyn could see the telltale glow of a shuttered lantern in their hands.
Massedar got down from the wagon and directed Demok to pick up the larger of the bodies. That he did, working the corpse over his shoulders. The other corpse remained in the wagon as Massedar led Demok and Kehrsyn up the steps. Though clouds were scudding in, no rain was falling at the moment Massedar removed his heavy cloak just as a gust of fierce wind blew through, and the sheer drama of the movement made Kehrsyn's heart thrill.
At the sudden motion, the figures at the head of the stairs flicked one of the lanterns open and shone it fully on Massedar. Kehrsyn saw the Massedar was dressed in priestly Banite raiment, no doubt the robe worn by Ekur himself. The long gown was full and black, with green rays and mystic sigils showing in the lantern light. Massedar had thrown the hooded cowl over his head, and he held his rain cloak out in one arm for Kehrsyn to take. As she stepped up to take it, she saw that he had shaved his beard to better match Ekur's clean-shaven face, and, thanks to the wind, she saw that Massedar had padded out his normally trim form beneath the garment, the better to emulate Ekur's bulky build.
As Kehrsyn took the proffered cloak in her arms, the light flocked off, shuttered once more within the glassy confines of the lantern.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Demok jerked his head back toward the wagon below.
"Once more," he grunted.
Two of the sentries moved quickly down the steps to unload the other corpse as Massedar, Demok, and Kehrsyn entered the Temple of Gilgeam.
Kehrsyn's heart fluttered with fear. She had not set foot inside so much as a Gilgeamite shrine since the day Ekur had killed her mother. Even in the high holy days, when the troops searched the city for stragglers and the impertinent, she had risked her life rather than bow a knee to the despotic thearchy that had taken her parents from her. In a bizarre way, she almost felt that trying to stop the Banites in their plot would be defending Gilgeam's memory, but that thought made her so angry that she shelved it far away, to be dealth with later.
Massedar led the way through the temple, his accursed Banite gown billowing as he walked. Demok moved behind, carrying the heavy corpse over one shoulder. Despite the bulk of the body, and despite the sweat that trickled down his temples and the breath that labored in his lungs, Demok's face was calm and placid. Kehrsyn trailed, holding Massedar's rain cloak. As she passed a convenient lantern alcove, she quickly stuffed it in the nook. She needed her hands free to do her job, and if they were to pass that way again, they'd either have time to search for the cloak or they'd have concerns far more urgent than getting wet.
In the distance, the reflected light of fires danced along the walls like will-o'-wisps. They heard the sounds of a bawdy Chessentan song reverberating through the temple. The regiment was trying to liven up the dreary evening, but the hollow way the tune echoed among the huge walls of slab marble twisted their cheerful lark into a mournful, ghostlike sound.
Near the center of the great structure, Messedar quickly located the ramps that serviced the lower levels of the temple. One level down was the actual Chessentan base camp, a solemn, military place. Messedar led them lower still. On the next level, the Chessentan officers made their encampment next to a platoon of Thayans. Kehrsyn mused that Thaytans had been called in to help ensure the safety of the enclave should Messemprar fall to the pharaoh's forces.
They continued down, past a prison level left empty by the foreigners, save only for a few rowdies held under guard for infractions. A desultory guard stood watch, in all likelihood a punishment in itself, doubly so for the whispers of the cloying stink of death that skulked around the still air at that level.
Two soldiers in full armor and Zhentish tabards stood at the top of the ramp that continued down.
One of them saluted as the group filed past, saying simply, "Ahegi," in respectful greeting.
As they descended, the butcher's smell of the dead grew with every step. They debouched into the bottom level, and Kehrsyn saw that it was dedicated wholly to torture. She realized also that the wide, open ramps would help convey the sounds of the damned to the heart of the temple itself, warping and twisting the screams to provide a macabre backdrop to the worship ceremonies.
The room was very large and open, and lit by a matrix of blood-red candles suspended in black iron chandeliers. The whole of it was filled with a bewildering array of devices of every sort imaginable, and many others of which the operation was so invasive, so cruel, that Kehrsyn's innocent mind could not in the slightest imagine what they actually did.
Between these instruments of torture, the floor of the room was stacked with bodies neatly arranged like firewood. They seemed incongruously peaceful when contrasted with the sinister mechanical shapes of the devices. Two aides staggered at the edge of the stacked remains, carefully placing another corpse.
The torture floor itself was sunken some three feet. A walkway circumnavigated the room, eight feet wide and without a rail. From the walkway the priests of Gilgeam could oversee the torture without having to step in the fluids of the maimed. Steps periodically descended from the walkway to the floor itself, in case a priest saw fit to intervene personally. At the time, though, a large number of Banite priests occupied the walkway, their black-and-green robes whispering and hissing across the stones. None stepped down the stairs, leaving the few workers to finish the arrangement of the bodies.