Chomack took a step back and swung his hard gaze on his tribespeople. None of them had moved any closer to the drow, nor had any of their weapons been lowered. "When I speak my answer to this sorceress, I speak for all of us. I want this to be understood. Any who would oppose me later will oppose me now."
Quiet murmurs and nods of assent spread around the half-circle of hobgoblins.
Chomack turned back to face the drow. "I agree to your terms, Krystarn Fellhammer. We shall give you our sword arms when you need them, and you will give us four gems for every gem you have already given us."
Irritation stung the drow. It wasn't that the amount was so much, she had managed to gather several times that much in gems and coins and other items in the years she had been with Shallowsoul, but the humanoid's greed offended her. Having the hobgoblin push the bargain so hard only meant he believed he had her at a disadvantage. She did not want him thinking that. "You are greedy," she said quietly.
"I thought your Ubth invented greed," Chomack said.
"Careful that your tongue does not commit a sacrilege that I cannot abide," Krystarn warned.
"I meant no offense, sorceress, but I've heard of the Spider Queen. Lloth, it is said, weaves webs of betrayals, treacheries, and deceits, and gives them all power by the driving force of greed."
"You misinterpret," Krystarn said.
"I don't know what that means, but maybe I was lied to once," the hobgoblin said. "I meant only to flatter, and for understanding. After all, I seek a way to achieve my vengeance, not half a way. That is why I must ask for what I ask for."
Krystarn smiled, thinking that Chomack acquitted himself very well in the negotiations. Perhaps the hobgoblin chieftain was destined for better things. "Very well, Taker of Dragon's Teeth. You shall have the amount you ask for, but only upon successful completion of the task you undertake for me."
"I have only one more question to ask, sorceress."
"What?"
"How do you know that you can trust me?"
Krystarn walked toward the hobgoblin chieftain. She felt powerful, the way a drow female was supposed to feel, the way Lloth had bred them to be. "I can trust you, Chomack, because as a hobgoblin you are not quite the antithesis of a human, as is such a wide-spread belief. Many of the same values they have, you and yours try to emulate, to bring you on equal footing with them."
Chomack started to disagree.
"Hold your tongue and hear me out," Krystarn ordered. "You are what you are, but you channel and direct yourself. It is not a bad thing. But you asked a question and I am answering it to the best of my ability. Your people live in a military fashion, and the basis of that lifestyle is order and honor." Neither of which, the drow admitted to herself, did she want in her own life.
"I have been told, sorceress, that honor means nothing to the drow."
"Indeed it does not," Krystarn replied. "But we understand how binding it can be on other species that prize it. I know you will bind yourself because of it."
"But how can you trust something you don't believe in?"
"By asking you to trust in your own trust, Taker of Dragon's Teeth. Hold, this will only hurt for a moment." Krystarn laid her forefinger against a bare spot on the hobgoblin's neck. To Chomack's credit, he flinched only a little when her fingernail laid open his flesh in a furrow almost two inches long. The drow plucked a single silver coin from her bag of holding. Working quickly, she warded it, allowing the designs she drew in the air to show as traces of pale green fire.
Chomack paled, but he did not move.
Finished with the spell to permanently mark the coin, the metal still warm to the touch, the drow shoved it into the cut in the hobgoblin's flesh. Chomack staggered only slightly, then regained his footing. Blood seeped down his neck.
"If you think to disappear, this will ensure that you won't," Krystarn stated. "No matter where you go, this coin will mark you and I'll find you. If you seek to cut it out of your flesh, the coin will sink further into your body and become poisonous." What she said was a lie, but the drow knew the hobgoblin chieftain would be too afraid of her power to disbelieve. Reaching into the bag of holding, she took out a small vial of healing potion. Pouring carefully, she sprinkled the area she'd opened up on the hobgoblin's neck and along the side of his face. The torn flesh in those areas quickly mended. She stepped back. "Unless you have reconsidered your bargain."
"No, sorceress. My desire for revenge is strong."
"Then may your gods be with you. I will call you when I need you." Krystarn walked from their campsite, listening to the chatter of voices fill the void she left. Only a heartbeat before the light from the cookfire left her entirely, she used her magic to teleport her to another spot along the trail above.
When she arrived on the trail, she glanced back down at the hobgoblin tribe, finding them suitably impressed. The demonstration of her power made her feel good about herself. The last four years spent with Folgrim Shallowsoul had been unsettling to say the least. But her obedience in the matter had been demanded by Lloth. The Spider Queen demanded harsh sacrifices for the rewards that she offered.
Krystarn turned her steps back toward the underground keep Shallowsoul had erected from the ruins. According to Shallow-soul, much remained to be done to undo the damage Golsway had managed.
She only hoped there would be more killing. The business tonight had only whetted the draw's appetite, and she'd been too long without death at her hands.
8
"Baylee Arnvold!"
The young ranger turned his head, trying to track the familiar voice across the noise and imagery that were constants at any ranger forgathering. Long wooden tables hewed by axes from trees felled only two days ago occupied space under leafy awnings around the clearing.
Most of the activity remained around these tables. Stories were told there during all hours of the day. Amid the lies and boasts lounged half-truths that could save a man's life one day. Above all, though, it was entertainment that many of the ranger breed would never have except at a forgathering.
At other tables, bartering and competitions were held amid dozens of crafts. And there was song. Songs of humor, songs of bravery, songs of great sadness, and songs of legend. Some of those songs were quietly strummed, while others were given a boisterous voice.
Xuxa, Baylee prompted.
The azmyth bat darted through the night sky, chasing insects for her eveningfeast After all the succulent fruits and cakes she had eaten since their arrival early that morning, Baylee did not see how Xuxa could swallow another morsel. He guessed that she used the exercise of chasing after her next meal to work up another appetite.
I am looking, the azmyth bat protested. / did not hear the call clearly myself.
Baylee passed through the thronging crowd that made up the forgathering.
"Baylee!" the voice called again.
It was a man's voice, the young ranger knew this time. That knocked out nearly half of the assembly.
West, Xuxa called from above.
Baylee turned slightly, getting his directions from the constellations spread across the clear sable sky. The Dragonspine Mountains ranged across the northern horizon, creating craggy gaps against the night since the forgathering was located in the foothills of the broken land.
A tenday and two days had passed since he'd recovered the book from the sacrificial well. He'd traveled to Waymoot and had the spell lifted from the page in the herbalist's book, finding the contract between two noble families of Waterdeep and a Zhentilar house of assassins for the murder of King Azoun. What he was going to do with it remained to be determined. From Waymoot, he'd traveled north again to Hillsfar on the Moonsea, then up to the forgathering area.