Emriana blushed slightly. "Don't make it bigger than it is," she said, but the smile on her face told Vambran she was hoping her relationship with the priest would turn into something more.
"He seems like a fine fellow," Vambran said. "And having a more formal relationship with House Darowdryn would be beneficial."
"Oh, gods, you're turning into Uncle Dregaul, trying to marry me off!" she said, punching her brother in the shoulder.
"At least I let you pick him," Vambran said, laughing.
At that moment, a shout came from up the hill, near the house. The siblings turned to see Quindy and Obiron bounding down the hill toward the pond. The boy had his crossbow in hand, and his sister was lugging the quiver of bolts beside him. Behind the pair of boisterous children, other members of the family and several guests were strolling toward the pond. Xaphira and Marga were talking, and Vambran could see Pilos, Adyan, Horial, Grolo, Edilus, and Arbeenok with them. The alaghi had come to the city of Arrabar, his first visit there, along with Edilus and Shinthala, to represent the druids at Hetta's memorial. Shinthala was in the rear, engaged in a deep conversation with both Elenthia and Serille, who had thankfully donned some clothing for her visit to land.
"It looks like all of your ladies are getting to know each other," Emriana teased.
Vambran groaned. "I liked it so much better when they were in separate places," he said. "I need to go on campaign."
"Maybe I'll go join in the conversation," the mercenary's sister taunted. "I have a few interesting stories they'd like to hear."
"Do it, and I'll make sure you can never show your face to Pilos again," Vambran warned.
Emriana gave him one scathing look before the crowd reached them. "Don't you dare," she muttered. "Or I'll sneak into your room at night and pour scorpions in your bed."
"I love you, too," Vambran said, and he meant it.
"All the women are going riding," Xaphira announced. "At the country estate. Do you want to join us, Em?" she asked.
The lieutenant raised his eyebrow in question. "All of you?" he asked, looking at Serille, Elenthia, and Shinthala with trepidation.
"Everyone but Shinthala," Xaphira answered. "She has to get back to the forest."
Vambran's gaze turned to the sea elf. "You, too?"
Serille nodded. "I would like to see what a horse is," she said, smiling sweetly.
Vambran resisted the urge to groan.
After the others had departed for the country estate, Vambran was left standing with the other mercenaries and the druids.
"I just learned that Perolin was named Grand Syndar this morning," Pilos said. "I think the temple is in good hands."
"As good as when Mikolos Midelli sat on the high seat?" Vambran asked.
The young priest nodded. "I think so," he said. "There's a lot of work to be done, repairing the damage Lavant created, but I find Perolin the most forthright of the high priests. I've given him my support."
"And he's named you ambassador," Vambran pointed out.
Pilos nodded, looking slightly chagrined. "I can't avoid the politics altogether," he explained, "but I can at least try to make sure they always work to put the best side of the temple forward. We'll see if I'm successful."
"Still no sign of Lavant?" the lieutenant asked.
Pilos frowned. "None," he replied. "And none of our divinations are giving us anything, either. It's very strange."
There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone contemplated what that might mean. "So, what's happening to Lobra?" Vambran asked, steering the conversation in another direction.
"Ah," Pilos said, nodding. "Perolin doesn't want to make a civil issue out of her crimes, because the temple wants to distance itself from any link that might exist with the Generon. Ariskrit agrees, so long as Lobra is punished for her transgressions against the temple. She's going to be washing laundry in the bowels of the temple for a long while, I think."
"And Falagh?"
Pilos shook his head. "No one has seen or heard from him since the night of Sammardach. House Mestel isn't speaking of it, and Perolin believes they are dealing with it internally."
"I've heard how they 'deal' with that sort of problem," Vambran said. "We'll never hear about him again."
"We are returning to the forest," Edilus announced to no one in particular. "Finally," he added, sounding gruff.
"That's a good thing to hear," Horial replied. "I was beginning to worry you liked the city so much that you'd never leave, and your stench was starting to get to me."
Edilus glared at the mercenary for a moment, and Vambran tensed, wondering where that outburst had come from, but then he saw Horial's mouth twitch in the beginning of a smile, and next he noticed the humorous twinkle in the druid's eyes. As one, the two burst out laughing, clapping each other on the shoulders.
Vambran sighed and turned to Shinthala and Arbeenok. "It's too bad they hate each other so much," he quipped, "otherwise we might all be friends."
Shinthala chuckled, then gave Vambran a warm hug. "Be well," she said. "And come to the Nunwood soon."
"I will," he promised.
Arbeenok took Vambran's hand and grasped it tightly. "You are a good friend," he said. "We will see one another again soon."
Vambran cocked his head and asked, "Is that just hopeful thinking, or have you had a vision?" The alaghi smiled and stepped back. "Sooner than you think," he said.
When the druids departed, taking Pilos with them to begin establishing a relationship with the Waukeenar, Vambran was left alone with Adyan, Horial, and Grolo.
"So, have you made up your mind yet?" Adyan drawled.
Vambran sighed. "Everyone keeps asking me that."
Horial shrugged. "I won't follow another, Lieutenant," he said. "I can't imagine campaigning under anyone else."
Vambran eyed his three sergeants, all of whom were nodding in agreement. "All right," he said at last. "I'll stay in."
Horial whooped and Adyan just grinned, his scar pale in the sunlight. Grolo smacked Vambran on the back. "That's what I want to hear," the dwarf said. "Now, what do you boys say we go over to the Crying Claw and have ourselves a cool one?"
Vambran liked the sound of that.
Out in the Reach, aboard Spinner, a trade ship bound for Turmish, a paunchy wizard pushed his spectacles up on his nose and tried without success to keep the papers he was scrutinizing from fluttering in the sea breezes. After the third attempt to read a paragraph in a treatise on the magical uses of yuan-ti scales, he gave up in exasperation and stuffed the sheaf of parchment into a leather binder. He stood up from the coil of rope he had been using as a seat and glanced over the stern. The coastline of Chondath was receding in the distance.
About that time, another figure strolled onto the deck of the ship. Darvin Blackcrown spotted the wizard and smiled to himself. He made his way over to the bespectacled fellow peering across the bow at the wave-tossed horizon and said, "Hello, Bartimus."
The wizard jumped, startled, and whirled around to face the assassin. "Where did you come from?" he stammered, fear plain in his eyes.
Darvin chuckled. "From Arrabar, the same as you," he said. "Don't worry, I'm not here to cause you trouble. I'm just on my way to Hlondeth to conduct some business on behalf of… my employer." He wasn't sure Bartimus would want to know that Eles Wianar was sending him. "Where are you headed?"
"Away," Bartimus answered. "To someplace where I can conduct my research undisturbed. I don't ever want to see a House insignia again."
Darvin had to chuckle. "I don't blame you," he said. Then an idea hit him. "Perhaps you'd like to travel with me? Where I'm going, I could use your help. And if it works out, I can make it worth your while. Think about it-a fully stocked laboratory, all the research time you want, no one bothering you to scry on folks when you are busy. Sound good?"