"Behave!" he scolded, imprisoning its hands within his own.
It began to gnaw on his knuckles and he was tempted to let it go altogether. He should have known better. Goblins were incorrigible. But, having begun the rescue, he held on until they were out of his spells' influence.
"Run off with you," Dru suggested and gave the scrawny child a push toward the palisade.
Naturally, the goblin wouldn't let go of his hands. He didn't know what to do next when a goblin female shot out of the natural shadows. She grabbed the youngster. It shrieked as loudly as it had in the chicken coop then both it and-presumably-its mother were gone.
Dru was more than a little relieved, more than a little dirty, and in a fine mood to tell Rozt'a and Galimer about the day's misadventures.
4
30 Eleasias, the Year of the Banner (1368 DR) Parnast
Druhallen found it harder to tell Rozt'a and Galimer that he suspected Tiep had betrayed them than it had been to listen to Amarandaris create those suspicions. They didn't want to believe the youth they loved as a son and brother would snuggle up to the Zhentarim. Galimer had gotten an unexpected cold shoulder from every merchant in the morning's caravan and couldn't guess why until Dru's tale offered an explanation.
"I warned that boy about making friends among the Zhentarim," Galimer muttered several times before sinking into a dark silence.
Rozt'a's faith in their foundling was not so easily shaken. "It could just as easily be our fault. We could have been overheard after we got here. How many times have I said-'Don't say anything; the walls have ears' only to have you tell me not to worry, that you've set wards? You depend too much on magic, Druhallen. Wards and locks only keep the honest people out and you're not the greatest wizard who ever walked. Maybe you're the equal of this Amarandaris, but who calls the tune for him? Sememmon in Darkhold? Gods spare us! The Network spies on itself-always has, always will. Do you think there's nothing in Darkhold to break your wards?"
"It doesn't take magic to break my wards," Druhallen shot back. "Anyone can break them. But no wizard-not all the Network wizards working together-could reconstruct them afterward, at least not in a way that would fool me for a heartbeat. You'd know if I tried to sharpen one of your knives, wouldn't you? Well, it's the same with my wards." Dru stretched his arms toward the walls. "They're mine, exactly as I set them. No one, not a mouse nor a mage, has put an ear to our walls."
"What about a priest," she persisted. "A priest and his god. You'd never know."
"A god wouldn't stop with the wards. If Amarandaris had been spying on us, he'd have known what the Candlekeep spell could and couldn't do. He thinks it's more potent than it is-that's Tiep. That's got to be Tiep."
"The boy's been through a lot," Galimer said from the corner. "And he's always had a taste for dice. I thought we'd gotten those lessons pounded into his head, but this time it's different. This time he's trying to impress that goose girl."
Before Dru thought through Galimer's implications, Rozt'a's eyes narrowed the way they did when she held her sword.
"That goose girl," she whispered coldly. "Manya. The Pit take her. She's your spy, Druhallen."
"She's still a child," Dru protested, but he wasn't that naive. More than one man had been separated from his secrets by a woman, even by a goose girl. "She's Parnaster. I don't know why or how, but I can't believe that a Parnaster would run to Amarandaris."
"Forget Parnast," Rozt'a advised. "I should have asked questions. I didn't like the look of her from the start-all shy and helpless smiles. They're the worst. You never see a helpless girl who isn't too pretty by half. Like as not, she caught Amarandaris's eye and now she's working for him, will she or nil she."
Dru shook his head. "The first thing we told Tiep was: never confide in a stranger-"
"There are no strangers in the grass!" Rozt'a shouted, and Dru realized he'd rasped a raw nerve. "Tiep's never had a girl his own age look him in the eye. He's got no defenses against that. She's had him eating out of her hand."
Dru didn't know how far things might have progressed between Tiep and Manya, but both he and Galimer knew for a fact that the goose girl wasn't the first girl to make cow-eyes at the youth. He was growing into a handsome man, and he'd always been charming.
Tiep and Manya had spent the past three dusty afternoons together… and yesterday he hadn't shown up for supper in the commons. When they'd asked, he'd said that Manya's mother had set out a plate for him.
I couldn't very well say, 'No, I won't break bread with you,' could I? I not supposed to be rude, am I? And the food in that farmhouse was better than the swill we've been getting at the charterhouse.
Dru hadn't said anything when Tiep had made the remark and didn't say anything now, as it echoed in memory. When it came to weaving truth and lies into seamless cloth, Tiep was a born master. The youth could charm strangers, but he was at his best with those who wanted to believe him. If they were smart, he, Galimer and Rozt'a would cut Tiep loose before he brought disaster down on their heads…
The thought of abandoning Tiep to save themselves was so unpleasant that Dru turned physically away from it and found himself staring into Galimer's similarly turbulent eyes. If he turned around, he'd be staring at Rozt'a.
Well, a wizard could always study his spellbook. Who knew when meditation on an old, simple spell would yield an insight into a more complex magic or the ability to cast it without need of words, gestures, or reagents? Druhallen hadn't stumbled into any new insights when the supper gong clanged from the charterhouse porch and Tiep hadn't returned.
"I'm going after him," Rozt'a announced.
Her fighting knives shone in the early evening light. Dru recalled, as if from a dream, that he'd heard her sharpening them while he'd been meditating.
"I'll come with you," Galimer offered.
Rozt'a snarled, "No" as she slammed the knives into their sheaths, one on her right calf, the other on her left forearm. "I'll handle this alone."
"Be careful," Dru warned.
She snorted laughter. "A bit late for that. A bit late for all of us. Save me a seat-save two."
In the commons, Druhallen and Galimer did more than save seats. They collected extra portions of bread and stew. The stew had congealed before Tiep came through the door with a grim Rozt'a a half-step behind.
"Sorry we're late," the lad said brightly. "But two Anauroch caravans in one day! I got distracted. You wouldn't believe what they pulled off those camels." He stirred, then ignored, his stew. "You remember those sandalwood boxes Old Maddie sells in Scornubel? I saw boxes like that, only twice as big and half the cost. I was talking to a trader-negotiating-when Rozt'a said you were all waiting on me. The trader says I can have the lot for three blue-eyes with Cormyr mint-marks. The boxes have got to be worth ten blue-eyes in Scornubel-at least ten. I said I had to talk to my partners first."
Galimer scowled and Tiep spooned up a mouthful of stew. Dru waited for Rozt'a's version of events. Her lips were set in thin, pale lines, but she said nothing, so the lad's tale might be true. Trading three Cormyr coins in Parnast for ten in Scornubel was worth consideration, but didn't mean their other suspicions were wrong.
If Tiep suspected he was marching toward a cliff, he hid it well throughout dinner and the sunset walk between the charterhouse and their room. He was the first to speak after the door was shut.
"So, what do you think? I've got one blue-eye set aside. Will you advance me the other two? I'm telling you-Old Maddie will pay us at least eight, or we can peddle the boxes ourselves. I'll give you four for two. It's a sure thing-"
Dru had heard enough. "I had an unpleasant conversation with Lord Amarandaris this afternoon, Tiep."