Avatar - Tantras Part 10

The fighter paused as he continued to dress himself. When he was done, he reached out and took Midnight 's face in both of his hands. "Why did you leave me behind in Shadowdale?"

Midnight pulled away, anger suddenly overwhelming her. "Leave you! You turned Cyric down when he asked you to help rescue us!" The mage slapped the fighter's hand away as he reached for her, then she moved to Adon's side.

A bitter laugh escaped Kelemvor's lips. "Just what did Cyric tell you?"

Midnight hesitated for a moment. Brus.h.i.+ng the hair out of her face, she relived the pain she felt when she first heard Kelemvor's words of betrayal. "That you 'couldn't interfere with justice' "

Kelemvor nodded. "Cyric chose his words well, don't you think? He knew you," the fighter growled, turning away from his friends. "He knew just what to say to make you believe him."

"He was lying?" Midnight gasped. "You never said that?"

"I said it before the trial," the fighter mumbled and hung his head. "I thought you were going to be found innocent. If I'd have known, I would have found some way to help you escape."

Adon shook his head. "What do you mean? Didn't you know about Cyric's plan?"

Kelemvor whirled around, anger flas.h.i.+ng in his eves. "By all the souls in Myrkul's Realm, what do you think I'm saying?" The fighter took a deep breath. "Cyric never told me about the escape. I found out the next day... when the bodies started to appear."

Midnight and Adon looked at each other, shock in their eyes. "What bodies?" Midnight asked. A dark, creeping fear was moving across her soul. Even before Kelemvor told her about the murdered guardsmen, she knew that Cyric had not told her everything about his plan.

Kelemvor studied Midnight 's face for a reaction as he told her about the b.l.o.o.d.y trail of corpses he and Mourngrym had traced through theTwistedTower. The fighter hoped that the mage would not be able to hide her guilt if confronted directly with the murders. As he told her of the crimes, the mage blanched, and her eyes revealed surprise and horror.

"I-I didn't know," Midnight stammered and looked again to Adon. The cleric was frowning deeply, and his eyes reflected the fury he felt.

Kelemvor sighed. They really are innocent; he thought to himself, relieved that for the first time in what seemed like years he had done something right, something good. "I know you didn't, Midnight ," Kelemvor said at last. "But didn't you even think it odd that you were able to escape so easily?"

"He told us he used the Gaeus Thorn," Adon snapped. When Kelemvor looked puzzled, the cleric continued. "That's a magical weapon of sorts. You strike someone with the thorn - a type of dart, really - and they do anything you tell them to do." Kelemvor thought of the young guard who had impaled himself and shuddered.

"We a.s.sumed he had subdued the guards using the thorn." Midnight folded her arms and hugged herself tightly. After a moment, she turned to the fighter. "Are you sure that it was Cyric? Could it have been someone else?"

Kelemvor shook his head. "We both know it was Cyric. Who else could it have been?"

"I... I don't know," Midnight sighed. "But it's possible there was someone else, isn't it? Another killer could have broken into the tower that night. He might have found the guards in a weakened state, or -"

The mage stopped speaking for a moment and took a deep breath. "Could one of the other guards have done it? Perhaps he wanted to cover up his own inattentiveness. Or maybe he wanted... I don't know what he might have wanted..." Tears were welling in Midnight 's eyes.

Kelemvor reached out to take Midnight by the arm. The fighter drew her into his embrace and held the mage as her tears came. Suddenly she pulled back. "No," Midnight said. "I won't believe it!" Kelemvor put his hands on his hips. " Midnight , the facts are -"

"I don't know what the facts are, and neither do you!" the raven-haired magic-user cried. "I refuse to condemn our friend the way the dalesmen condemned Adon and me for Elminster's murder!"

Adon put his hand on the mage's shoulder. " Midnight , you know he did it. He would have killed me, too, if you hadn't stopped him." The cleric turned to the fighter. "A sickness had taken hold of Cyric, Kel. It was as if he went mad," Adon said flatly. He paused then and looked into the churning river. "Perhaps it's better that he's dead."

Midnight slowly walked to the edge of the bridge. "No, Adon. Cyric would have been fine once we got to Tantras, once we had a chance to rest. He really was a good person, you know. He just never had the chance to prove it."

Memories of all the evil he himself had done in the past, things the curse had forced him to do and things he had only blamed on the curse, flooded into Kelemvor's mind. The fighter went to Midnight 's side and put his arms around her. "Perhaps he was afraid to do what's right," he said softly. "That same fear nearly prevented me from rescuing you."

Looking into Midnight 's eyes, Kelemvor sighed and was forced to look away. "I was standing near the tower, waiting for daylight, waiting to see you again," the fighter told her." I didn't know what I was going to do. But I suspected that once you were brought out, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from trying to help you, even if it cost me my life. I stood there waiting for the moment when I would learn what I was going to do.

"Then the bodies were discovered, and I let Mourngrym convince me that you were guilty, that you and Adon had killed Elminster and then the guards." Adon whimpered softly at Kelemvor's comments, and the fighter paused for a moment. "It was easier to believe them than to do what I knew was right.

"After I saw what the dalesmen really were, when your boat approached, I knew that I had to make a choice." The fighter turned and looked at the bloodstains scattered about the bridge. "My reaction was as I thought it would be."

"Then you believe we're innocent?" Midnight asked softly.

"Aye," Kelemvor whispered as he kissed Midnight full on the mouth. When the kiss had ended, Kelemvor noticed Adon crouching over the pile of weapons that had been appropriated from the bodies of the dead hunters. He suddenly looked tired, even withered. "What's wrong with him?" Kelemvor asked.

Midnight told Kelemvor all that had transpired in theTempleofLathander, but especially how Adon had tried to save Elminster from the rift. "With his scar and his failure at the temple, Adon's certain that Sune has abandoned him," the mage concluded. "It's as if his whole world has been shattered."

"He still should have said something at the trial to defend the two of you," the fighter grumbled. "His silence helped to sway Mourngrym's verdict."

"Don't hold it against him, Kel. I don't," Midnight said, smiling. "Besides, the trial is over now. And after you're with Adon for a while, you'll know that he's paying the price for his silence at the trial... and much more." The mage turned and walked toward Adon. As the fighter followed her, she added, "Cyric found it almost impossible to show him kindness or mercy. If I can forgive him, then you should be able to do the same."

Kelemvor considered the magic-user's words, then crouched at the other side of the pile of weapons, staring at the cleric. "Our survival depends on being able to count on one another, Adon. We will be wanted fugitives."

"I know that," Adon snapped. His gaze failed to meet Kelemvor's. Instead, the cleric toyed with one of the dead men's weapons.

"We're going on to Tantras, Adon, but the dalesmen might try to capture us. They also may try to kill us. Will you pledge your life to help us?" Kelemvor asked.

"My life...," Adon growled, his voice cracking. "For what it's worth, yes, I'll pledge my life for the two of you. Perhaps I can make up for what I have done." The cleric reached down and picked up an axe. He gazed at the weapon for a moment, frowned, then tossed it aside. "I'll find a way."

"Thank you, Adon. We'll need your help," Midnight said and started to walk toward the dalesmen's camp. Kelemvor quickly followed her. They could hear the sound of metal hitting metal as Adon picked up one weapon after another and tossed it back into the pile.

"The dalesmen hid their horses in the woods next to the camp. We should pick out a few mounts, pack up our supplies, and head toward Tantras while we still have a chance," the fighter said.

Midnight stopped walking and turned to Kelemvor. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Kelemvor smiled and shook his head. "Your reward," Midnight said flatly.

The fighter stiffened.

Gesturing at the blood stains on the bridge, Kelemvor spoke. "I'm a wanted criminal for aiding you and for killing the dalesmen. The curse only demands payment if I am not acting in my own best interest. Getting you to Tantras, where we may be able to hide from the long arm of the dale - or even recover the Tablet of Fate and magically clear us of all charges - is most definitely in my own interest. I don't want a price on my head for the rest of my life, however long that may be. It's no way to live."

"I see," Midnight said quietly.

Kelemvor frowned and closed his eyes. "That doesn't change my feelings about you," he murmured. "I have to look at things in those terms. Besides, it just simplifies matters."

"Well," Midnight sighed. "I suppose we should keep things simple."

Kelemvor looked at her sharply, and for the first time he saw a trace of the wicked grin Midnight had so frequently displayed to him on their trip to Shadowdale. He laughed and placed his hand on her waist. "Come," the fighter said, and they walked to the end of the bridge.

"Adon!" Midnight shouted. "We're leaving."

Footsteps sounded behind the mage and the fighter. Then they heard the clang of steel falling against steel and turned to see Adon gathering up the pile of weapons he had dropped.

"Hold it!" Kelemvor snapped. "Let's just take what we need." The fighter already wore his two-handed sword, but he grabbed an axe, a spare bow, and a cache of arrows to add to his a.r.s.enal. Midnight found a pair of daggers that suited her. Adon stared down at the collection, trying to find some weapon that was suitable. He was well trained with a war hammer and a flail, but sharp-edged weapons were frowned upon by his order. All the weapons that remained were edged.

"Take something and carry it for us," Kelemvor said at last, his patience reaching its end. The heroes quickly left the end of the bridge and entered the forest. After a few minutes, Kelemvor had led his companions to the spot where the huntsmen had secured their mounts. The horses were gone.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Adon asked as he looked around.

"The evidence is all about you, cleric. Open your eyes!" Kelemvor snapped. Adon shrank away from the fighter, and Midnight frowned. Kelemvor cleared his throat. "What I mean to say is that you can see the tracks that the horses, and whoever took them, left behind - the broken branches and the footprints." The fighter pounded his fist against a tree and swore. "It was probably Yarbro. Now he's got the gold that Mourngrym paid me, and we'll have to walk to Scardale."

Adon was struggling with two heavy swords he had found as the heroes prepared to leave the forest. Concern crossed Midnight 's features. "Adon, where did you leave my spellbook and the items Lhaeo gave us?"

The cleric dropped the swords and the s.h.i.+eld and backed away in terror. "I ... I left them on the bridge," he gasped.

"Sorry..."

Kelemvor's shoulders drooped, and he opened his mouth to spew out a tirade of angry condemnations. When he saw the cleric's frightened, childlike expression, he fought back his anger. "Go get them," Kelemvor said softly, his deep voice trembling with barely controlled rage.

As Adon ran back toward the bridge, the fighter set his bow down beside the swords that Adon had dropped and walked back to the bridge with Midnight . "He is trying, you know," the mage purred as she put her arms around Kelemvor's waist.

"No doubt," Kelemvor grumbled and tried not to smile.

"And you're trying, too," Midnight said. "I appreciate that."

The fighter and the mage broke from the forest and saw Adon near the middle of the bridge, crouching over the canvas sack he had rescued from the river. He seemed to be rifling through the sack, checking its contents.

Standing near the north entrance to the bridge, the fighter called out to Adon. "Come on, cleric! We don't have all day!" Midnight started slightly at Kelemvor's sudden outburst.

On the bridge, Adon suddenly stood up, the bag firmly in his hand. The cleric stared at the eastern horizon, pointing toward the sky. The sun was behind the cleric, so he could dearly see the three figures floating in the eastern sky, becoming larger as they approached.

"Riders!" Adon exclaimed. "Riders to the east!"

At the northern end of the bridge, Kelemvor shook his head. "What is he -"

Then the fighter saw what had captured Adon's attention. Three darkly clad soldiers were flying toward the bridge. They were following the course of the river and riding huge ebon horses that struck a trail of fire as they galloped across the sky.

On the bridge, Adon stood rooted to the spot. As the riders drew close, he was able to see them even more clearly. The armor of the riders was completely black and lined with razor-sharp ridges. Spikes the size of daggers jutted out from various parts of the armor. The riders' faces were hidden by helmets. Far more frightening than the terrible armor the mysterious riders wore were the mounts they rode. The creatures that carried them across the sky were nightmares - powerful and deadly monster horses from another plane.

As they came even closer, the heroes could see the weapons each of the riders carried. One was armed with a huge scythe, which he tested in the air as he approachedBlackfeatherBridge. Another favored bolos, with a cutting silver wire laced between the heavy spheres. But the man in the lead, an imposing specimen who seemed best-suited for his horrible mount, carried a heavy, two-handed broadsword that was stained black and charged with blood-red runes.

From the north entrance to the bridge, Midnight cried out. "Run, Adon! Get off the bridge!"

Kelemvor grabbed the mage and dragged her a few steps toward the woods. "We have to take to the forest," the fighter growled. "They might not have seen us yet."

The magic-user dug her heels into the dirt and pulled away from Kelemvor. "They've seen Adon!" Midnight snapped. "We can't leave him."

"It's stupid to sacrifice ourselves, too. Let Adon come to us, to safety, instead of our running into danger with him," Kelemvor snapped. The fighter knew that they faced a trio of deadly foes. His enhanced vision - one of the only positive effects of his curse - had already revealed the crimson stains of the symbol of Bane over the hearts of the riders. "You haven't changed at all, have you?" Midnight screamed as she ran from Kelemvor and stepped onto the bridge. "All you care about is yourself!"

The riders were no more than fifty feet from Adon and closing fast. Midnight approached from the north end of the bridge, yelling for Adon to move. The scarred cleric stood motionless, the bag containing the amber sphere from Elminster's tower and Midnight 's spellbook clutched in his hands. All expression had drained from his face, and Adon stood as if he were a statue in the center of the bridge.

Before Midnight could reach Adon's side, the riders swooped in. The rider in the lead, the swordsman, aimed his nightmare directly at the cleric and held his sword thrust out before him. Seconds before the sword would rip through Adon's body, the rider drew up suddenly, and his mount veered up and over Adon's head as the other two riders sailed around the cleric on either side. The wind buffeted Adon, but he stood his ground. As the rider flew past, though, the canvas bag fell from Adon's hands, and the young cleric grabbed one of the hind legs of the monstrous horse.

"Adon, no!" Midnight cried, but it was too late to stop him. The cleric's body was yanked into the air above the bridge, twisting as he flew off into the sky.

The nightmare that Adon had grabbed let out an ear-piercing shriek and tried to shake the cleric off its leg. Flames from the creature's hooves danced around Adon's hands, singeing them, but still the cleric didn't let go.

At the north end of the bridge, Kelemvor stood alone, struck dumb by Adon's unexpected actions. The fighter watched as the cleric not only held on to the monstrous beast, but also began to climb upward, ignoring the horse's wildly flailing legs and flaming hooves.

The fetid smell of the nightmare's hide had almost caused Adon to release his hold on the mount when he first became airborne, but he had ignored the stench and settled his attention on more important matters, such as helping his friends - and perhaps redeeming himself in their eyes. He started to climb toward the rider, in the hope of deposing the a.s.sa.s.sin and taking control of the mount.

In the air, Varro, the a.s.sa.s.sin with the scythe, laughed at the spectacle. "Shake him loose, Durrock!" Varro cried. "His life is of no consequence as long as we capture the woman!"

The other a.s.sa.s.sin reigned his nightmare in and dashed past his scythe-wielding friend. "Leave him to his sport, Varro!" Seja.n.u.s said as he stopped swinging his bolos. "Besides, Durrock may want to keep the scarred one alive. They have something in common!"

Riding the mount that Adon was holding desperately to, Durrock ignored the comments of his fellow a.s.sa.s.sins. He had no need to gloat; his unexpected pa.s.senger was completely at his mercy. And if the reports that the Zhentarim spies had sent to him as he flew towardBlackfeatherBridgewere correct, the cleric had already handed the a.s.sa.s.sins the day. Guiding his mount in an arc that would take him back to the bridge, Durrock marveled at the simplicity of the task ahead of him.

Finding the mage and her companions had been child's play. The path the travelers were taking was known. All the a.s.sa.s.sins had to do was follow the Ashaba until they spotted their prey. Better still, the heroes were not hiding along the river's edge, but standing on a bridge, in the open, when Durrock and his partners spotted them. It was as simple as shooting arrows at a prisoner in a pit.

On the ground, Kelemvor rushed to Midnight 's side, but not for any altruistic reason. The a.s.sa.s.sins would never let him live if they captured or killed Midnight and Adon. The fighter was simply protecting his own life. As he considered his options, the fighter cursed. They might have stood a fighting chance against the a.s.sa.s.sins under cover of the woods, but Adon and Midnight had taken that option from him, and now Kelemvor was sure that they would all be as dead as the dalesmen very soon.

Next to Kelemvor, Midnight was lost in the spell that she was about to cast. As the riders drew near, Midnight knew that she could not risk harming Adon, so she took aim at the rider with the bolos, the one at the back of the charging formation, and released a fireball spell. A crackling, blue-white pattern of energy formed before the mage's trembling hands, then collapsed. Nothing else seemed to happen.

In the air, sailing toward the bridge, Seja.n.u.s had felt a moment of panic when he saw the mage on the bridge and realized she was attempting to cast a spell in his direction. When she completed the complex gestures and the spell seemed to fail, the a.s.sa.s.sin laughed and raised his bolos above his head. He prepared to throw the weapon and bind the woman's arms before she could try such foolishness again.

On the bridge, Midnight stared in shock at the flaming scimitar that hung poised over the head of her intended victim. No one else sees it, she realized as she watched the magical sword - the result of a spell called Shaeroon's Scimitar, if she guessed correctly - follow Seja.n.u.s. Midnight 's spell had gone awry and had brought this force into existence by mistake. But the mage knew that she could profit from the error, and her eyes narrowed as she spoke. "Take him!" she whispered, and the scimitar descended.

A hundred feet above the Ashaba, with only a dozen yards between himself and the mage, Seja.n.u.s felt a searing pain begin at the base of his skull and race downward, through his spine, like a fire out of control. The agony flowed out from his spine, piercing every nerve in his body. He began to convulse, and his mount, confused by his motions, veered off at a right angle and raced upward toward the clouds.

As Midnight 's errant spell struck Seja.n.u.s, Kelemvor stepped aside from the raven-haired magic-user and readied himself to face Varro, the scythe-bearing a.s.sa.s.sin. With his sword drawn, the green-eyed fighter prepared himself for the fury of the nightmare rider's descent. As the night-black horse came within twenty feet of Kelemvor, it opened its fanged mouth and belched out a foul-smelling cloud.

Now only a dozen feet away from the fighter, Varro gripped his scythe and prepared to match its steel against that of his prey's sword. The a.s.sa.s.sin leaned over the left flank of his nightmare as the creature arced upward, toward the right. The fighter's sword gleamed as it reflected the harsh sunlight at the a.s.sa.s.sin's back. Only a few feet from slicing his prey neatly in half, Varro was shocked as the fighter leaped forward, brought his sword down in a cras.h.i.+ng blow against the a.s.sa.s.sin's weapon, then rolled to the bridge and out of Varro's view. As his mount rose to the east, over the bridge, the a.s.sa.s.sin looked at his weapon in shock.

"You'll pay for this, dog!" Varro screamed in disbelief, dropping the shattered scythe into the river. The a.s.sa.s.sin reined in the nightmare and drew a sword. The monstrous horse beneath him turned as sharply as it could, but as he turned back to the west, into the sun, Varro was shocked to see Durrock hovering over the bridge, not attacking, just hanging in the air. The image was both beautiful and terrible, a majestic silhouette in black against the blazing orb of the sun. The body of the cleric dangled from Durrock's hand, and the a.s.sa.s.sin's sword was raised high over his head.

"This game is over!" Durrock cried. "Varro, stay where you are!"

Varro dug his heels into the sides of his mount, and the nightmare reared once but held its position. On the ground, Kelemvor stood, his heart racing, as Midnight moved toward the center ofBlackfeatherBridge.

Durrock's nightmare exhaled a cloud of smoke and snorted. The a.s.sa.s.sin brandished his sword and yelled, "Surrender now or your friend dies! Decide!"

Kelemvor heard a scream behind him and turned. In the sky to the east, the third rider, Seja.n.u.s, was slowly making his way back to the bridge. "What do you want with us?" the green-eyed fighter yelled.

Durrock's nightmare reared, and Adon twisted precariously in the air. "I'm not here to answer your questions," the a.s.sa.s.sin cried. "Lord Bane, the G.o.d of Strife, has sent us to deliver a summons. We are here to escort you to an audience with the Black Lord in Scardale."

"Oh, is that all?" Kelemvor snapped. His grip on the sword tightened. "Thank you, but we'll pa.s.s. You'll have to carry my regrets to Bane."

Durrock loosened his grasp on Adon, and the cleric slipped slightly toward the ground. The a.s.sa.s.sin grabbed the scarred cleric again before he could fall. "Do not tempt fate, fools. You have no choice!"

"We'll come with you," Midnight cried. The mage held her hands, their fingers laced together, above her head so the a.s.sa.s.sins would know she was not casting a spell. "You've won."

Kelemvor stared at the mage, then looked away and slowly lowered his sword. "This is insane!" the fighter hissed. "They will simply kill us in Scardale, once Bane is done with us."

Midnight sighed and turned to the fighter. "Perhaps. But we can't let them kill Adon now," she said. "We may have a chance to escape later."

"Ah, of course!" Kelemvor snapped. "It will be better if we try to escape. Then they can have the pleasure of hunting us down again before they kill all three of us!" The fighter reached down and picked up the heavy canvas bag containing Midnight 's spellbook.

Midnight didn't answer the fighter. Instead, she looked up at Durrock, still hanging against the sun, and nodded. "We're ready," the mage said. The riders began to descend.