"You two be quiet!" Adyan hissed from nearby, his drawl exaggerated with his insistence. "You want to draw the entire Generon down on us?"
Horial groaned again and tried to sit up, but Edilus was there in front of him, grabbing him by the collar of his tunic. "Why, you traitorous wolf? Why did you bring me through the portal with you?"
Horial stared at the man, his mouth agape. "Why? Because those soldiers were going to kill you!" he hissed. "If you want to die so badly, then go back!"
Edilus swore again softly. "I would if it were possible, but it is not! The passage conveys those who use it in one direction only! I cannot return!"
"You hate us so much you'd rather die than come with us?" Horial demanded, controlling his voice only a little more than before. "I saved your life. Maybe some day, you'll get back to your precious forest and do something worthwhile with what's left of it." And with that, he grabbed Edilus's hand, the one still clutching at his tunic, and slung it off.
"I'm not kidding!" Adyan said, his voice also a whisper. "We're smack in the middle of the Generon grounds, and they will hear you if you don't quiet down!"
Horial could see the scar along Adyan's chin glowing faintly in the moonlight. It was twitching from the other man's agitation.
Grolo, sitting nearby, said, "He's right. You two are making enough noise to draw the whole city watch here."
Horial glared at his companions, disliking the rebukes while he was in the middle of a good fight, but he realized the wisdom of their words. Finally, he said to Edilus in a whisper, "Like it or not, you're here with us, and unless you want to ruin what all of your brethren-and my other soldiers-just died to help make happen, let's save this argument for later."
Edilus stood very still, staring at Horial for a long moment as if thinking. Finally, the druid nodded. "I will help you as I can," he said, "because Shinthala believed you had a purpose that did not cross us. But my aid will not include anything that would harm my people in some way."
Horial spread his hands in acceptance and said, "None of us would expect any less of you. And so you understand, I grieve for your brethren as much as I do for my own soldiers." He tried to roll over onto his side, but the arrow embedded in his knee would not allow it. Wincing as he jarred it, Horial sank back to the ground in pain.
"Let me see your injuries," Edilus said, kneeling next to his counterpart. "I may be able to tend them."
Horial nodded and tried to sit still while the druid worked on him, several times stifling cries of pain as Edilus's touch became too ambitious. As he waited, the sergeant tried to get his bearings.
The group had arrived in a lush garden, and in fact, the portal that had delivered them there seemed be anchored to an overgrown archway that formed a lopsided arbor. It looked very old and neglected, and thick vines and shrubs had completely enclosed it on every side, providing a welcome screen of camouflage for the four of them. Though he could not distinctly remember seeing the location before, something about the place convinced Horial that Adyan was correct. They were on the grounds of the Generon.
"Why does this look familiar?" he asked, looking over at Adyan, who was just returning from a quick foray into the underbrush to scout. "Have you been here before?"
"You don't remember?' the other man asked softly, squatting down beside Horial.
Horial shook his head. "It reminds me of something, but…" Whatever memories were hidden away were giving him an uneasy feeling.
"It was a long time ago," Adyan drawled, sounding pensive. "Vambran was with us."
Horial looked at his friend, remembering it all. "That night," he breathed. "The plantains."
Adyan nodded. "Yes. The plantain trees are just that way," and he pointed in the near-darkness, "and the pond where we found-" he stopped himself then, pointing but not finishing the thought.
"Of all the ridiculous luck," Horial said, bracing himself as Edilus took hold of the first arrow, the one in his knee. When the druid jerked the missile out, Horial had to clench his teeth to keep from yelling. "How did Tymora see fit to drop us right here?" he asked after he got his breath back.
Edilus handed the sergeant a little leather pouch. "Eat it," he said, moving around to Horial's shoulder.
Opening the pouch, the sergeant could see something gray and moist inside. It did not look tasty. As Edilus took hold of the second arrow, Horial tipped the pouch back and let the contents slide down his throat. The mixture tasted sour, but he did not have long to reflect on it, for Edilus yanked hard.
Horial squeezed his eyes shut to deal with the burning pain, but whatever Edilus had given him warmed his body and eased the discomfort. He suspected it might have been some druidic variation of a temple-issue healing potion. Soon, his wounds had closed and he felt good enough to walk. He climbed to his feet and peered around.
"So," Horial asked of no one in particular, "which is the fastest way out of here?"
"Through the front gates," Adyan said.
"Yes, I'm sure that the guards won't bat an eye as three members of the Sapphire Crescents and a fellow from the distant woods go strolling past with no explanation of how they came to be on the grounds," Horial said wryly. "That's not one of your better plans."
"I'm serious," Adyan replied. "We might look a little odd, but tonight's Sammardach. Next to Spheres and the Night of Ghosts, it's one of the biggest parties of the season. Why shouldn't we be visiting the Generon tonight?"
"Sammardach," Horial said, musing. "That just might work," he agreed. "Though it's pretty late to still be here."
Adyan shrugged. "We got to drinking with some stable hands," he offered, "or we got lost in the gardens and had to find our way out. Sounds reasonable to me. The palace is huge, after all."
Horial shrugged, too. "Let's do it," he said.
Grolo snorted. "What was that you were saying about Tymora?" he muttered as the four of them began to push through the bushes, forcing their way out from the forgotten arbor.
"I was saying," Horial answered, shoving aside a low-hanging branch dripping with moisture, "that we ought to remember to drop a coin in her fountain next time we pass by. And I thought we were done tromping through wet bushes in the middle of the night," he added, drawing a soft, if brief, chuckle from the rest of the Crescents.
It did not take them long to break through onto open ground. Once they were visible, the group began to stroll casually, trying to look as if they had just been meandering through the grounds of the palace, minding their own business at the party. A couple of times, Horial suggested to Edilus that it wasn't necessary to prowl, but the druid couldn't quite grasp the concept of acting natural.
Or rather, Horial realized, he's acting as naturally as he knows how. He's probably never been to a city before.
Indeed, as Horial watched, Edilus stared about in wonder and amazement at the grand edifice known as the Generon. More than once, the sergeant thought he saw the druid shake his head in dismay or heard him mutter some unintelligible expletive, but otherwise, Edilus seemed able to keep calm.
The foursome made its way across the grounds and along the paths toward the front of the palace, where the gates stood, and Adyan began to whistle a cheerful tune as they walked. They spotted a guard or two along the way, and both times they were given careful scrutiny, but no one challenged them.
Before long, the gates came into view at the end of a long path that wound its way toward the bottom of the hill, and it seemed that the group was in the clear. Horial actually sighed in mild relief, thankful for the small favors of both Waukeen and Tymora, when Edilus suddenly stopped and cocked his head as if listening.