From the tower window, Midnight watched as the last zombie climbed through the outer wall. The chase seemed wrong to her, however. The whole thing had been too slow and too relaxed. Nor did she like how the drivers had responded to her offer of help—without a word of acknowledgment or thanks.
As the first driver reached the gate, an overpowering stench of decay and death filled Kelemvor’s nostrils. At first, the odor puzzled him, for the zombies were not close enough for him to smell them. Then, thinking about how slowly the caravan moved, the warrior began to suspect the drivers were not what they appeared to be.
“Close the gate!” he yelled to Adon, grabbing the beam they had used to lever the door into its current position.
“What do you mean?” the cleric demanded, confused. Like Kelemvor, he smelled something foul. But he assumed it was merely the horses—or something in their packs.
The green-eyed fighter cursed and pushed one end of the beam toward the cleric. “They’re zombies! All of them! Now, close the gate.”
Comprehension dawning in his eyes, Adon took his side of the beam and turned to position it beneath the heavy gate.
But he was too late. The first zombie pushed through the gap. Beneath the driver’s striped hood, Adon saw a bloated face and lifeless eyes. The thing’s thin lips were pulled back in a grotesque grin, revealing a set of broken yellow teeth.
It raised an arm and clawed at the cleric.
Adon ducked and grabbed his mace, but dropped the beam. For a second the cleric wished that he was still in Sune’s grace, still able to turn undead. That wish passed as two more drivers pushed through the gap.
Kelemvor grabbed his sword and hacked at the first zombie’s neck. The thing’s head rolled off its shoulders neatly, but the body remained standing. It began swinging its fists blindly. Then the next two zombies attacked, both focusing on Adon. One landed a savage blow in the cleric’s ribs, and the other backhanded him so violently that his ears rang.
“Run!” Kelemvor yelled. He slashed a zombie’s arm off, then backed away a step.
Adon started to obey, but stumbled over the beam and nearly fell. He swung his mace, hitting the closest zombie. Bone cracked and the creature’s temple caved in, but it did not fall. Two more drivers stepped forward, one to either side of the cleric.
Midnight heard several dull thuds as her friends’ weapons struck the zombies, then ran to the window overlooking the inner ward. She saw Kelemvor hacking at three of the undead that surrounded Adon. Two more drivers were pushing through the gate, and the mage knew plenty more were approaching outside.
Kelemvor slashed, tearing the cloak from the head of a driver. Its eyes were dull and lifeless, and its skin doughy and gray. The fighter slashed again and the driver lost an arm—then pressed forward to counterattack.
Midnight knew her misgivings had been justified: Adon and Kelemvor were as good as dead and the tablet lost, unless she could pluck them from the midst of battle. Remembering the heavy chandelier in the middle of the room, the mage went to the wall and released the rope. The chandelier crashed to the floor. She drew her dagger and cut the rope free, then hastily coiled it.
Down in the courtyard, Adon thought he was doomed. The cleric was surrounded by three zombies that seemed impervious to his mace—or at least immune to the damage he was dealing with the weapon. More undead were entering the courtyard every few seconds. He smashed a driver’s ribs and felt them break, then cringed as the zombie raked at his face with four filthy fingers.
To Adon’s left, Kelemvor’s sword found a target, beheading a zombie and temporarily clearing a small path between the warrior and the cleric. Adon seized the chance to fling the tablet to Kelemvor.
The saddlebags struck the fighter in the shoulder, then tangled around his left arm. Intent upon recovering the artifact, the zombies turned toward the tablet and left Adon alone. Although Adon and Kelemvor did not know this, before his destruction, Bhaal had told Myrkul where Midnight kept the tablet. Accordingly, the Lord of the Dead had instructed the zombies to recover any saddlebags the heroes carried with them.
Although Adon did not know the source of the zombies’ information, it took him only an instant to realize they wanted the tablet and knew where it was. “Run!” he called to Kelemvor, stepping forward and cracking a corpse’s skull. “Get out of here!”
Kelemvor thought his friend was merely being noble. “No!” the fighter cried, slicing into a zombie.
The thing did not fall, then two more stepped to its side. All three undead lashed out at the warrior, and he had no choice except to back away. Nevertheless, still having failed to notice that Adon was no longer under attack, Kelemvor yelled, “I got you into this, and I’ll get you out of it!”
“I doubt that,” Midnight yelled. She stood atop the wall behind Kelemvor, the hastily coiled rope in her hands. The magic-user dropped one end of the rope toward the courtyard. She ran the other end through an arrow loop in the closest merlon and began tying it off.
Kelemvor slashed at a leg, slicing deep into an attacker’s knee. The zombie pressed forward, completely unaffected by a wound that would have crippled a living man. The fighter’s other two attackers landed powerful blows in his ribs, then two more zombies crowded around and began flailing at him. The warrior retreated another few steps, and a moment later his back was pressed against the wall.
Seeing what Midnight intended and realizing that he could do little to help Kelemvor, Adon screamed, “Up the rope, Kel! I’m safe!” With that, he turned and ran for the nearest stairway.
Midnight finished her knot, then returned to the wall’s edge. The rope ended eight feet off the ground, easily within Kelemvor’s reach. However, the warrior was so busy fighting zombies that he could not start climbing.
The magic-user climbed onto the rope and slid down, stopping a foot before its end. Midnight knew she lacked the strength to pull the warrior out of battle, but she hoped that with her aid, Kelemvor could grab the rope and quickly climb out of the zombies’ reach. “Kel, give me your hand!” she cried.
The warrior glanced up and saw Midnight’s outstretched hand, then the zombies landed several blows. He swung his sword viciously, buying himself a foot of breathing space. Immediately, he lifted the saddlebags and placed them in Midnight’s hand.
“Take it!” Kelemvor yelled.
At first, Midnight didn’t want to obey. But then the zombies turned their attention to her, simply trying to walk over the warrior. She accepted the saddlebags, slung them over her shoulder, then started up the rope. The warrior stayed on the ground and continued slashing at zombies.
A few seconds later, Adon arrived at the top of the wall and helped Midnight climb up the last few feet. After she was safely on the wall, she turned and yelled, “I’m safe, Kel. Come on!”
The warrior immediately sheathed his sword and, ignoring the zombies, turned and grabbed the rope. He pulled himself to the top of the wall as quickly as he could. Midnight cut the rope behind him, then said, “Follow me!”
She led the way back to the tower, entering the first doorway she came to. Though this room lacked an iron chandelier and an age-worn desk, it was similar to the one from which she had taken the rope.
As soon as they were inside, Adon asked, “What now?”
“We’ve got to think of a plan,” Midnight replied, sheathing her dagger. “And we’d better do it before the zombies find a way to get up here.”
Kelemvor went to the window and watched the zombies stumble around the ward. “I’m sorry I got you into this,” he said. “I just thought—oh, damn it, I just didn’t think.”