There were three Houses listed in a column, each one of them with a figure beside it, each figure enough coin to hire a mercenary army to fight such a war. Together, the funds were substantial enough to do something really serious, like invade another country or conquer a city. Pharaboldi was one of the three Houses, the name that had originally caught Kovrim's eye. But beneath that were the names of two other Houses. It was the third name on that list that made Kovrim freeze, made him reread the words three times to make certain he saw it correctly.
The third name was House Matrell.
Vambran paced like a caged animal in the barracks where his men were busily organizing supplies for the impending departure. He wanted to pound his fist against a wall, wanted to scream at someone. Captain Vertucio had refused to grant him any time to return to his estate, not even long enough to tell the family what was happening. The officer had explained, and rightfully so, Vambran had to admit, that the need to get the company ready had to be the lieutenant's first priority. If, after everything needed for the upcoming trip up the coast was readied-Captain Vertucio said the destination was confidential for the moment, and all Vambran needed to know was that they would be marching overland-perhaps Vambran could sneak away for a quick good-bye.
But those were not ordinary circumstances. Vambran realized that the change in orders, the accelerated pace of the departure time, even his own additional responsibilities to handle logistics for the entire unit, were all suspiciously convenient means of keeping him from pursuing the murderers' identities. Grand Trabbar Lavant knew enough to arrange it so that Vambran would have no choice but to abandon the investigation.
Unfortunately, that also meant that Vambran could not aid Emriana, nor could he warn her to back off without him there. His sister would be on her own against Denrick Pharaboldi that evening, plotting to wrest the truth out of the young man and falsely thinking that Vambran was nearby should she need him. And that didn't even take into consideration how devastated she would be that he'd missed her birthday party. It had all gone horribly wrong, and Vambran was at a loss as to how to manage both crises at once.
The irony of having come full circle was not lost on the mercenary. It had only been two short days before that he'd stood on the deck of Lady's Favor, hesitating to go home, loving the freedom and excitement that serving in the mercenary company afforded him. And yet, there he was, about to muster out again, on the verge of another interesting campaign with his soldiers, his friends, and he wanted more than anything to get clear of it, to run home. It nearly made him laugh, except that he was seething at the injustice of it.
"Sir, we're going to need to procure additional horses for the supply wagons," one of the young soldiers said, saluting Vambran as he stepped near.
The lieutenant sighed.
"How many?" he asked. "And what happened to our regular supplier?" The soldier shrugged.
"I don't have a clue, sir. Sergeant Grolo just told me I should pass that message on to you. He says to come to the stable yard immediately so the two of you can assess the situation."
Vambran paused in his pacing and turned to regard the soldier delivering the message.
"Did he, now?" the lieutenant asked.
"Yes, sir."
Vambran tried to hide a smile.
"Very well," he said, "I'm on my way. Get back to what you were doing, soldier."
The younger man nodded and ran off to whatever task he'd been about before the dwarf had interrupted his work.
Vambran began to head toward the stables, which were clear on the other side of the compound from where the barracks were. Grolo was the last officer Vambran would have put on horse detail; the dwarf hated horses and couldn't ride one to save his life. He would be a poor choice for making decisions about them when it came to supply logistics. Something else was going on.
Vambran worked his way across the compound and to the stables. When he got to the yard, he found the dwarf standing outside the large building, huddled with a number of other men, all soldiers who served in Vambran's platoon. He strolled up to them, noting that they didn't seem to be paying any attention to any horses at the moment.
"I got a message that we have a horse problem," Vambran said casually, eyeing the small group.
Grolo turned to face the lieutenant.
"More like a priority problem," the dwarf replied, and he stepped aside and let Vambran get a better look at the rest of the group. Hiding in the midst of the others were Adyan and Horial.
Vambran broke into a quick grin at the sight of his two sergeants.
"What are you two up to?" he asked slyly.
"We've just been explaining our little problem to Sergeant Grolo here," Horial said, tilting his head sideways to indicate the dwarf. "We explained how this latest campaign is likely to turn out rotten, what with our lieutenant distracted by events going on at home and all."
"He thinks that's bad for morale," Adyan drawled. "He doesn't want a lieutenant who isn't fit for battle heading up any part of the company."
"And you, sir, aren't fit for battle right now," Horial remarked. "At least, you aren't so long as your family's in the middle of some trouble."
Vambran turned to look at Grolo, who stood with his thick arms folded across his stout chest.
"And you believe these two no-good, worthless soldiers?" he asked the dwarf.
Grolo spat on the ground and said, "From what I hear, you're the best thing that ever happened to these two, and most others who have served under you." At that, there was a murmured chorus of assent from the rest of the group. "And, after what I saw last night at the warehouse, I'm pretty much figuring they're right."
Vambran gave the dwarf a shrug of placid acceptance.
"They're good men," he said in all candor. "I'm honored to have them in my unit."
"When the politics of the temple starts getting in the way of the effectiveness of the Crescent, something's wrong," Grolo said, spitting on the ground again. "And I'm thinking something's wrong."
Vambran nodded again, still unsure what the dwarf was getting at.
"We'll cover for you as long as we can, Lieutenant," Sergeant Grolo announced. "You go take care of what you need to, and we'll make do here while you're gone."
Vambran's smile became a much larger grin, then. He reached out a hand and clasped the dwarf's.
"You have my gratitude," he said sincerely. "I owe you for this. All of you," he said to the whole group. "I can tell you now, though, that by stepping into the middle of this mess with me, you're putting yourselves directly in front of the temple's scowling eye. There may very well be severe repercussions."
"Ah, we'll repercuss when the time comes," Adyan said, his country accent stronger than normal. "They can't do much without an army, can they?" he added, laughing, and the rest of the men nodded their assent.
"All right, then," Vambran said, turning to go. "I'll try to get word to you or get back here as soon as I can."
"Ah, sir?" Horial said, causing Vambran to pause and turn back. "You forgot your ride," the sergeant told him.
Vambran didn't understand until one of the men led a saddled and bridled horse out into the yard from the stables. Then he grinned anew.
"Very clever," he said, moving to the animal and mounting up. "Thanks again."
He urged the horse into a trot out through the gate, and very quickly, Vambran was riding at a rapid canter toward his family's estate.
Kovrim stepped out through the great front doors of the Temple of Waukeen and made his way down the broad steps to the pathway below, which led to the street. Instead of following the path, though, the priest turned to the side and began to walk across the great lawn that surrounded the temple. As he walked, he studiously observed his footfalls, avoiding the temptation to glance around to see if anyone was watching.