Algorind shook his head sadly. "All those people sacrificed to one man's ambition! I suppose it is a blessing Renwick Caradoon died before those ambitions could be fully realized."
In response, Danilo handed over an ancient book, which was opened to a sketch of a tall, round tower. "That is Caradoon Keep, which Renwick used as his lair during his life, and to which he retreated after death."
"But how could he retreat after he-"
Danilo cut him off with a gesture of one hand. "Turn the page."
The paladin did so, and immediately recoiled in surprise. The old tower now stood just outside a vast fortress of sand-colored stone. He knew this place very well, for he had been raised and trained there.
"Have you never wondered why that tower was outside the walls of Summit Hall?" the Harper asked softly.
Algorind nodded. "The masters said only that it contained a great and powerful magic that the Knights of Samular must safeguard. Renwick Caradoon?"
"I'm afraid so. Renwick intended to hold his power for a very long time, either as a living man or a lich. I thought at first that Samular imprisoned him, but have come to suspect that Renwick imposed exile upon himself as a means of penance."
"And the Knights of Samular distrust Khelben Arunsun, Waterdeep's archmage, because his ancestor and namesake took unwitting part in Renwick's plan?"
A fleeting smile touched the Harper's lips. "Let's just say my esteemed uncle is more than capable of making his own enemies."
"Indeed. There is much distrust between the Harpers and my order."
"And with good reason. The Kezefbane was only one of the magical items Renwick created or recovered from Ascalhorn. To this day, men seek those items-and not all of them belong to your order. In fact, there is a secret society in Amn dedicated to this purpose. Under Khelben's direction, the Harpers have been opposing them for years. Since the society and your order share certain goals, the Harpers' efforts sometimes conflict with the activities of Samular's knights, especially where the bloodline of Samular is concerned. For obvious reasons, the society in Amn has an interest in Samular's descendants. It is my belief that Bronwyn was bound there when she was stolen as a child."
A disturbing possibility occurred to Algorind. "And Cara Doon, as well? Bronwyn's niece?"
"Most likely. Cara is going to be particularly attractive to these people. Not only does she possess one of the rings of Samular, but she has prodigious magical talent. Her mother was Ashemmi, an elf with enormous ambitions, a black heart, and the morals of a cat. In fact, I would not be surprised to learn she was recruited to seduce Dag Zoreth in hope of breeding a magically gifted child of Samular's bloodline."
"That is… monstrous," Algorind whispered. "And Sir Gareth traffics with these people? How could he keep such evil hidden for so long?"
"I can think of several reasons," Danilo observed, "foremost among them Sir Gareth's fame. People, even paladins, usually see what they expect to see. Consider also the wound that withered his arm and ended his active career. Well-mannered people avert their eyes from lamed men so as not to appear indelicate. Every Dock Ward pickpocket knows this trick, and some use it to good effect, for good folk are disinclined to gawk at people who have obviously suffered some injury."
"Men who rise above their disabilities are admired, and Sir Gareth continued his work on behalf of the order, working as a treasurer," added Algorind.
"And that, too, has helped him, for such work is mostly solitary, and kept him from day to day contact with the men of his order. Familiarity might have dulled the sheen of his reputation and allowed men to see how dark his soul had become."
"There is much wisdom in your words," Algorind conceded. He looked up at Danilo, his expression uncertain. "What should I do now, sir? I seek your council."
That seemed to amuse the Harper. "Shall I list the reasons why you shouldn't? In the interest of saving time, why don't you tell me what you think must be done."
"My order needs to know about Sir Gareth."
"Indeed," he said slowly. "It is possible that his facade will shatter when it is closely examined. But it is also possible that he has been magically protected from such inquiry. Did you pray for insight into his nature?"
"No, sir; it was my own heart I sought to know. I caught a glimpse of Sir Gareth's, almost like something seen from the corner of my eye."
"Interesting. But it might be difficult to persuade your elders to try this method, or convince them that what you saw was the truth of Sir Gareth."
"Then what should we do?"
Danilo considered this. "If Sir Gareth put Cara on that south-bound ship, there will be records somewhere. As luck would have it, I have friends in low places. In time, I should be able to gather enough information to support your accusations. But a witness would be better."
"But what good man has been witness to Sir Gareth's misdeeds?"
"That's the problem, isn't it?" Danilo mused. He shook himself and sent his guest a rueful smile. "I have been remiss. You are hurt and in need of healing."
Algorind frowned. "You restored my size and my hearing."
"Yes, but the healing potion I gave you was specific to that hurt. Your hands are nearly raw."
Danilo rummaged among his collection of potions and took out a tear-shaped bottle filled with dark fluid in which swam tiny motes of light. He regarded it for a long moment before handing it over. "This should solve the problem."
The young paladin nodded his thanks and tipped back the bottle. A feeling of wonder suffused him as he regarded his unblemished hands. "They were healed almost before I swallowed. Even the old scars are gone!"
"It's an unusually powerful potion," Danilo said evenly as he reached for the empty vial. "Now, about Sir Gareth…"
Yes, what about Sir Gareth? To Algorind's surprise, he was no longer certain what to think of the old knight. His doubts and fears, so firmly held just moments before, felt as insubstantial as wisps of morning fog.
"Sir Gareth is a hero of our order," he mused. "If the vision I saw was truly a glimpse of Sir Gareth's heart-and I am no longer so certain that it was-perhaps the darkness described the pain from his wounds, or perhaps he is suffering through a time of discouragement. If he had given himself over to evil, if he had truly done the things you suspect, surely my elders would have known!"
"I'm not surprised you think so," Danilo said, idly turning over the empty potion vial in his hand. "And what do you intend to do next?"
"I will go whithersoever Tyr and you deem fit to send me."
Again the Harper laughed, but it seemed to Algorind that the sound lacked any real mirth.
"Tyr and me, is it? Now there are two vintages I never expected to see in a single goblet!" He abruptly sobered, looking more serious than Algorind would have thought possible. "For the nonce, forget about my opinion. Forget about the Order. What do you think you should do?"
After a moment's consideration, Algorind said, "I would warn the dwarves of Thornhold. Sir Gareth mentioned that they might be prevented from speaking at Summit Hall."
"Indeed. Did he say how, or by whom?"
"He did not. But no doubt Sir Gareth has knowledge he did not see fit to share with me."
"No doubt," the Harper murmured. "If a dwarf's got something on his mind and the desire to share it, he's not easily silenced, but I'll send word to Bronwyn at Thornhold." Danilo lifted one brow. "Unless you prefer to go yourself?"
"I would like nothing better, as I would beg her pardon and little Cara's for wrongs unwittingly done. And yet," he added wonderingly, "I feel compelled to return to Sir Gareth. It may be that he will need an aide in the years to come, someone he can trust to help him with all of his many duties."
The Harper's smile seemed a bit sad. "I thought you might feel that way."