"I can try to find out, sir."
"I'm only making suggestions that will help ease him off this scrutiny. It's for his own good, you realize."
"Of course," Kovrim said, really wanting to be finished with the conversation. "I will take care of it, Grand Trabbar. Don't fret over it for another instant."
"Thank you, Syndo Lazelle. I knew you were a man to be counted upon."
Vambran, Horial, and Adyan stood before the front entrance to a large warehouse connected to a meat-salting business. It sat at the end of a cul-de-sac at one end of the wharf. The cloudy weather had turned into rain, a light, misty drizzle that really only made the cobblestones slick but didn't feel wet to anyone caught in it. The air felt mildly cooler because of the sprinkle, and the shadows a little deeper due to the lack of a moon, but that was about it.
It had taken the lieutenant three castings of his divine magic before he had been able to pinpoint the location of Emriana's dagger. The three of them had wandered through the streets, having only a direction to go on, working their way closer and closer to the harbor before turning to one side and finally finding the place. It was completely dark and shuttered, a business that catered to ships wanting to restock their supplies for sea travel. Vambran had ordered salted pork and beef from the place for some of his own excursions on more than one occasion, and he knew the proprietor to be a fair and friendly businesswoman. She had continued to run the place even after her husband and son had died, and her dried meats were quite good.
"Well?" Horial said, looking at Vambran expectantly. "You're sure it's in there?"
Vambran nodded and said, "No doubt at all. And I'm thinking these men are in there without the consent of the woman who owns the shop. I don't think she'd let a bunch of thugs live in her warehouse."
"They might be paying her rent," Adyan suggested, frowning as if he didn't believe that possibility himself.
"No miscreants I ever ran across paid for anything they didn't have to," Horial said with a mild snort. "They've got a secret way in and out, and your shopkeeper knows nothing about it."
"That's what I'm thinking, too," Vambran said. "Let's find it."
The three soldiers began to circumnavigate the place, examining every wall for a hidden or concealed door. They also checked the various windows, which were open arches covered with broad awnings to keep the weather out and sealed off by strong steel grates.
At the fourth such opening, Horial discovered that the grate was loose and could swing wide of the wall.
"Here we go," the man whispered. "This is probably how they're coming and going."
Vambran nodded and motioned for the mercenary to proceed. Horial went first, followed by the lieutenant, and Adyan brought up the rear. As Vambran set his feet down, he could tell by the feel of it that the floor was hard-packed earth. Other than that, he could discern nothing. Once all three were inside, they stood together in the darkness, trying to let their eyes adjust to the gloom. As they waited, Vambran listened intently for any telltale sounds that might provide a clue as to whether the thugs were there or not. It was totally quiet. Even after several minutes, it was still too dark to see anything clearly, but Vambran felt confident there was no one besides the three of them inside the building.
Vambran reached into his coin pouch and pulled out a single Sembian raven, then he found by feel the gold emblem of Waukeen he wore on the chain around his neck and grasped it firmly.
"Watch your eyes, boys," he said softly. "I'm going to shine a little light on things.'' He uttered the words of a quick and specific prayer, directing the magic onto the silver coin in his other hand, and instantly, the surroundings were bathed in soft white light, as if the lieutenant held a torch high in his hand.
The trio of mercenaries were standing in a jumble of crates and barrels, stacked haphazardly all around them and high enough that they couldn't see anything beyond the containers. A narrow walkway filed between two stacks and deeper into the environs of the warehouse. Vambran motioned for them to continue, and Horial filed into the gap and wound his way along the path, the other two close behind.
Perhaps ten paces through the walkway, it emerged on the other side of the stacks, right in the central part of the warehouse. The rest of the place, or as far as the dim light would reveal, was filled with more of the same. Rows of crates, boxes, and barrels lined either side of the long, narrow building, with a wide path running down its center and a row of thick square posts in the middle of that to support the ceiling high overhead. On the near end, where the trio stood, all the equipment needed to salt meats was spread out. Overhead, an assortment of already-cured meats hung from the rafters, ready to pack for shipment. A small door was set into the wall nearby. Vambran assumed that it led into a large smokehouse, and indeed, he could detect the odor of wood smoke strongly there.
"So? Where are they?" Horial asked softly as he and Adyan fanned out, peering among the stacks of boxes and crates. "You're absolutely sure it's in here," the sergeant asked again.
"Yes," Vambran said, pointing toward the far end of the warehouse. He could still sense the dagger's location through the use of his divine magic. "It's down that way," he said.
Nodding, Horial set out in the direction Vambran had indicated, and the other two fell into step with him, still watching and peering everywhere the light reached.
"They must have dumped it and lit out," Adyan drawled as they advanced. "Because there's no one… "
The words died in the man's throat as the first body came into view.
"By the Lady," Horial gasped, staring down at the corpse.
The body was of a man, and Vambran thought it might have been one of the thugs from the previous evening, though he couldn't tell for sure, because its skin was covered with hundreds of tiny, bleeding wounds. Each mark was in the shape of a three-sided star, no larger in diameter than the girth of Vambran's index finger, but the blood that leaked from them pooled around the victim. The man's skin was sallow when it wasn't stained crimson, and his form looked emaciated.
"Something sucked all of his blood out," Vambran said grimly, stepping closer.
The light from his silver piece revealed the next corpse, a little farther on. It was in the same condition. As the lieutenant advanced along the broad walkway between the corpses, he spotted two more. One was draped across a single crate, the man's back exposed through a shredded shirt, and the other was slumped in a sitting position next to the crate, a club lying next to his outstretched hand.
"What in the Nine Hells would do that to a man?" Horial rasped, nudging one of the bodies.
Adyan made a strangled sound as he held his nose and asked, "What's that wretched smell?"
The hair on the nape of Vambran's neck prickled. He spun back to Adyan and tried to call out, "Watch yourself!" but he wasn't quick enough.
A dark form, its whole shape writhing, lunged out of the shadows from between two stacks of crates. It grabbed at the mercenary. It took Adyan in both arms and hugged him tightly, dragging the man backward into the darkness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Help him!" Vambran shouted, even though he didn't think he could be heard over Adyan's screaming. The bulky thing that had gotten a hold of the soldier was backtracking steadily, obviously strong enough to keep Adyan in a bear hug and drag him at the same time.
Horial leaped forward, yanking his short sword free, and tried to get in close enough to stab at the creature, but the path between the crates where it was retreating was too narrow, and Adyan's body served as a shield. The sergeant advanced, keeping his blade ready for any opening.