It was a vigil that Shamur hadn't required Thamalon to keep. Seeing no reason why both of them needed to spy, she'd suggested he wait somewhere warm. Perhaps he'd feared she'd think him soft or a shirker, for he'd insisted on sharing the chore with her, and, to her relief, had scaled the side of the tallhouse with considerable agility for a sexagenarian who had never taken instruction from a housebreaker like Errendar Spillwine.
Within the facade of the Talendar mansion, another window went dark. Soon, she thought, it would be time to move. Thanks be to Mask that the noble family hadn't opted to host a feast or ball tonight. Then the castle might have swarmed with boisterous revelers and bustling servants until dawn.
"I have something to tell you," said Thamalon, tightly bundled in his cloak.
"What's that?" she asked.
"When this affair is over, you can leave me without fear of reprisals against the House of Karn or the children. You can also come back and visit our brood whenever you like."
Shamur reckoned that she ought to be overjoyed, and in fact, she did feel a tingle of excitement, but it was muted and undercut by some other, less comfortable emotion. "Thank you. That's far kinder than I had any reason to expect."
He shrugged. "What should I do, drag you into court and complain to the Probiters that for the last thirty years, I've been married to the wrong woman, but up until now didn't know the truth? I'd be the laughingstock of Selgaunt. Besides, I suppose I owe you something for seeing me safely out of the Quippers' lair. I wasn't sure you'd be able to, or even that you meant to try."
"Don't tell me you were taken in by my agreeing to Avos's terms," she replied. "That was simply necessary to move things along. We're comrades in this venture, and I was always resolved that both of us would escape, or neither. That was why I aimed my short sword at his belly and never his heart. Even had I pierced his guts, he likely wouldn't have died at once. Thus, I still could have extorted your release by threatening him with further harm."
Thamalon chuckled. "Such a delicate little flower I married."
"There's something I ought to tell you. Two things, really. The first is that back in the days when I was a thief, Old High Hall was rumored to be impregnable to the kind of intrusion we intend, and I certainly never heard of any burglar surviving such an attempt. The second is that I haven't attempted to slip inside a fortress like this since I was an adolescent. I fear my skills are rusty."
"Nonsense. I've seen you fight and climb."
"But I'll need other abilities tonight, ones I have yet to test."
"Wife, I know where this is going. You're going to offer me another chance to stay safely behind, aren't you?"
"It's a sound idea. If something befalls me, you'll still be alive and free to search for Master Moon and protect the children."
"You said it yourself. We're partners. You watch my back, and I watch yours. In any case, I trust you."
She smiled. "All right, fool. On your own head be it."
They sat in silence on the cold, rough shingles for a while longer, while the snowflakes tumbled, the stars twinkled, and the lights in Old High Hall winked out one by one. Finally she judged the mansion was dark enough. She said as much to Thamalon, whereupon the two of them descended to the ground, then crept toward the enceinte.
In Shamur's youth, Old High Hall had been the sort of old-fashioned stronghold that Argent Hall remained today, with a perimeter wall high enough to balk an army. At some point during her long absence from Selgaunt, however, the Talendar had seen fit to tear down that enceinte and put up one that was only about twelve feet tall. She wished she could find that encouraging, but she knew better. The rival House had only become more wealthy over the past several decades, and it stood to reason that the measures they took to deter thieves had become more sophisticated and effective.
The Uskevren reached the base of the wall without being noticed, at least as far as Shamur could tell. The masons had made some effort to smooth the sandstone blocks and the mortared chinks between so as to make climbing difficult, but she was confident she'd find adequate finger- and toeholds. What concerned her was the mechanical and magical traps that might be concealed in the stonework. She kept an eye out for such things as she ascended.
She made it to the top without incident, peeked over the wall, and saw a snowy garden on the other side. It didn't appear to possess any magical flowers like the Karns' famous silver roses, which flourished even in the dead of winter, but the servants had shoveled the paths anyway, perhaps so strollers could admire the statuary.
Since Shamur saw no sentries rushing in her direction, she turned her attention to the coping on the summit of the wall. Most climbers would unthinkingly, blindly grab hold of it as they ascended, making it an excellent location for poisoned spikes, sharp scraps of glass, or some other type of mantrap. She didn't see anything of the sort, nor magical sigils incised in the stone, but still, her instincts warned her not to trust the surface. Clinging to the facade of the wall one-handed, she extracted a slender steel probe from her kit and pressed it against the top.
In the twinkling of an eye, the patch of sandstone immediately beneath the metal rod reshaped itself into a pair of jagged jaws, which shot up, clashed together, and bit the probe in half. Startled, Shamur jerked backward and nearly lost her grip.
She recovered her balance, peered over the coping again, making sure no one had heard the magical trap activate and come to investigate. She studied the stone jaws. They hadn't tried to bite her a second time. In fact, they seemed to be softening and slumping ever so slightly, as if, having failed to seize a victim, the projections were melting back into the block from which they had erupted. Shamur warily prodded them with the stub of the probe, and even that failed to provoke another attack.
She grinned. If the jaws could strike only once, that made it easy. She discarded the remaining piece of the probe, which was a bit too short for the task she had in mind, drew her dagger and used it to trigger several traps on either side of the first one, enjoying the game of snatching the blade back before the jaws could catch it.
"What are you doing?" Thamalon whispered from below.
"Making a point of entry." She lay on her belly atop the hard, irregular bumps of the unsuccessful mantraps, anchored herself with one hand, and stretched down the other. "Come on, I'll help you up. Just don't let any part of your anatomy swing up over a section of the coping that's still level, or a trap's liable to snip it off."
"I understand." He gripped her hand, she heaved, and he clambered up. They dropped inside the enclosure.
At once they hunkered down motionless, while Shamur peered and listened for signs that someone else was in their immediate vicinity. It seemed that nobody was. She gave Thamalon a nod to indicate that so far, they were all right.
"It's a miracle nobody heard the traps going off," he whispered.
"It's a ways to the house," she replied, "and I doubt anyone wanders the grounds on a chilly night like tonight if he can avoid it. Still, there are guards somewhere, so let's be careful."
He inclined his head. She motioned for him to follow her, then skulked to the right.
Shamur used all her old tricks to approach the mansion. She instructed Thamalon to stay low, take advantage of every bit of cover, and look before he moved. She kept an eye out for tripwires and odd depressions or humps in the earth that might mark the site of a mantrap, for all that the snowdrifts made them difficult to spot. She stalked behind rather than in front of any light source, such as the glowing magical lamps which the Talendar had mounted here and there on posts, lest she reveal herself in silhouette or cast a shadow. And she crept to the leeward, so no watchdog could catch her scent.