The other man, Bartimus did not know so well. The wizard had only seen him once before, a priest of Waukeen. He stood in one corner of the study, staring out through the latticework of a vine-covered trellis that shaded the arched window from the mid-morning sun beyond. He had his arms folded across his chest, resting on his ample stomach, and he was drumming his fingers, each of which was adorned with a gaudy ring replete with gems of every hue.
Bartimus waited by the door, unwilling to break the silence that hung so thickly in the air. Grozier had sent for him, though the wizard did not know why. He began to worry that the anger in the room was going to be directed at him, and the longer he could stave that unpleasantness off, the better. So he leaned against the side of the arched doorway and waited.
"I would have thought that eliminating the evidence would have dissuaded him from pursuing this any further," Grozier said, moving to sit on the corner of his desk. "I would think that a mercenary officer, or better yet, a young merchant scion, would have better things to do with his time. You're certain you picked up on his intentions correctly?"
"My divination functioned as it should have," the priest said, turning away from the window and looking directly at Grozier. "He was angry and determined to keep digging when he left the station house. But you underestimate his priorities. He has no duties, no responsibilities, in his house. He receives a monthly stipend to live on and spends his time wenching and fighting, like all men his age and in his circumstances do."
"Then why doesn't he go wench and fight," Grozier demanded, "instead of chasing ghosts that are better off left to drift away to nothingness?"
"In a way, this is his fight," the other merchant said. "He's made it his."
"Huh," Grozier grunted, seemingly unsatisfied with that answer.
"What he needs," Junce said, not moving nor looking up at either of the other two participants in the conversation, "Is a distraction. Something else to keep him busy."
"Or maybe a warning," Grozier muttered.
"No, your skulking man is right," the priest said. "A distraction would be best. It is more subtle than a direct warning, less likely to awaken his suspicion further." The Waukeenar was smiling, Bartimus saw, and had begun to rub his hands together as he spoke. "It has to be something suitably interesting to him, though. Something more interesting than playing at investigating this niggling crime before him."
"You have an idea already?" Grozier asked, looking expectantly at the merchant-priest.
"Yes. Remember what I said he likes?"
"Wenching and fighting?"
"Precisely. I'm sure we can arrange it so that he has ample opportunity for both."
"That's going to be interesting to try to pull off," Grozier said with a derisive snort. "He may already have some companionship of his own."
"A young man his age and temperament is always interested in a little more," the priest replied.
"What about his uncle?" Junce said, rising to his feet. "Didn't you say the mercenary was also planning to speak to him, drag him into this?"
"Kovrim Lazelle can be easily dealt with," replied the priest. "I will see to it personally. Do not involve yourself in the temple's side of things. Our connection to your financial endeavors must remain invisible."
"As you wish," Grozier said. "We'll keep on as before and leave these other matters up to you."
"Excellent," the priest said. He turned to go. "Are we still meeting in two days' time?" he asked at the doorway out of the study.
"Yes," Grozier replied. "The usual place and time."
The priest nodded and departed without even acknowledging Bartimus's presence. Grozier, however, did.
"Bartimus, stop lurking over there and come sit down."
The wizard bobbed his head obsequiously and entered the rest of the way into the study.
"As you no doubt heard," Grozier continued, "our young mercenary is being quite persistent. I'm concerned about what he might yet find "
"I arranged it so that there would be nothing for him to find, as you and I decided," Bartimus said quickly, worried again that his employer was going to blame him for some shortcoming. "I can't imagine what else he could do."
Grozier snorted.
"Tell him what you and the priest discovered," the merchant said, looking at Junce. The rogue chuckled.
"We followed Vambran Matrell today after he went to the watch headquarters to meet with Captain Leguay," Junce explained, flopping down onto the chair once more. "When she didn't give him any satisfaction, he left in a huff. The priest read his thoughts and discovered that Vambran seems to think he has a way of finding our phony watchmen. He seemed to have some notion of tracking down a dagger."
Bartimus frowned.
"Of course, I suppose that's possible, assuming that he knows of a particular dagger to track. Certainly, there are ways to do it, both arcane methods and divine incantations," he said. "But that wasn't something I would assume he had the capability to utilize, since first and foremost, he would need this dagger to be familiar, and secondly-"
"Enough," Grozier interrupted wearily. "I don't care how likely it is that he can do it. The fact is, he seems confident that he can. In those situations, I tend to trust that he knows what he's talking-er, rather, thinking-about. The question we should be asking ourselves is, what do we do about it? I don't intend to let the fate of all my planning rest in his hands," the merchant said, nodding toward the door where the priest had departed. "Trusting in the possibility of simply distracting him is a little too chancy for my tastes."
"I can get over to Dressus's place and figure out what dagger we might be talking about," Junce volunteered. "I can go ditch it somewhere harmless." Then the spy began to smile. "Or, better yet, I can go slip it somewhere rather dangerous, and let him wander into a little trap."
"Ordinarily, I'd say absolutely," Grozier said, motioning for Junce to hold off. "But in this case, I don't want to take any chances. I think it's time we got Vambran Matrell out of the middle of this entirely."
"You want me to kill him?" Junce asked, his eyes glittering. When Grozier nodded, the assassin said, "I think I know just the group to help me do it."
"Then take care of it," Grozier replied, smiling coldly.
After Junce departed, Grozier turned back to his house wizard and said, "There's a possibility that our friend Junce will fail. Vambran Matrell has proven to be rather resourceful. If that's the case again, it might not be such a bad thing for our pest to find Dressus and the others."
"Pardon?" Bartimus asked, confused. "I thought we didn't want him to learn anything from them."
Grozier sighed and said, "Right. I don't. However, I think Dressus and his rowdies have begun to outlive their usefulness. Even if we managed to get rid of the dagger, nothing says Vambran Matrell doesn't have other methods of finding them. I'd rather not take that chance " the merchant said pointedly, looking at his employee.
"Ah," Bartimus said, "so we'll let him find them, but it will be too late."
"And I hope too late for him, too," Grozier added. "I knew I could count on you to solve this problem for me."
"Me?" Bartimus yelped, taking a step back. "I can't-oh, wait. You want something else." He began to think about his repertoire of magic. "There are a number of different things I might try. Let's see," he said, beginning to mentally tick off possibilities. "I could-"