Avatar - Tantras Part 15

At one point, the conversation lagged, and Adon spent a few moments looking around the tunnel at the tired, dirty soldiers. For the first time, he noticed that they were huddled in groups - the Cormyrians with other Cormyrians, the men from Hillsfar only with their own, and so on.

The Zhentish invasion changes Scardale little, the cleric thought with a sigh. This was once a thriving, happy place... before Lashan's reign, anyway.

In fact, it hadn't been so long ago that Scardale was on the verge of forging its own empire. Under the leaders.h.i.+p of Lashan Aumersair, an aggressive young lord, Scardale had gathered an army and even managed to conquer a few of its neighbors. But the invasion of Harrowdale, Featherdale, and Battledale drew the attention of the rest of Scardale's rivals for power in the area - Hillsfar, the Dales, Sembia, even Cormyr and Zhentil Keep.

Lashan was eventually turned hack from Mistledale and Deepingdale by the combined forces of Scardale's powerful neighbors, and the young n.o.bleman's empire collapsed as quickly as it had risen. The troops from the conquering armies soon occupied the town ofScardaleitself, though Lashan escaped and was presumably still in hiding somewhere. Then each of the major powers placed a small garrison in the town, to prevent any one power from rising unchecked in the dale.

The various garrisons had fought among themselves for years over petty insults, making the town little more than an open invitation to lawlessness. Now that the balance had been tipped in Zhentil Keep's favor, Adon thought bitterly, the soldiers were treating it like another taproom brawl, another momentary inconvenience. They weren't banding together as allies to save their city; instead, they were huddled together like groups of thieves in a darkened alley. At any moment, they might suddenly turn on one another. To Adon, it was all very sad.

When the heroes finally got to meet Barth, Adon's musings about the soldiers' pettiness were proven correct.

"You expect us to what?" Barth exclaimed, his normally well-tanned face turning bright red. The soldier was strongly built, with curly black hair and a thick mustache.

"I don't expect you to do anything," Midnight growled, balling her hands into fists. "I'm offering you a chance to strike back at Bane's forces. You might be safe while you're inside these tunnels, but the Zhentilar have made you prisoners here just as surely as if they had thrown you in their dungeons!"

Barth leaned back in his chair, the only one Midnight had seen in the tunnels, and looked at the mage and her friends. Contempt showed in the soldier's eyes as he mulled over Midnight 's plan to rescue Kelemvor.

Gratus smiled fatuously and addressed the leader of the resistance. "The mage has a point." Raising his hand, the old merchant placed his index finger and thumb together, then allowed a small s.p.a.ce to open between them. "Why, we can't even go outside the tunnels this far, even to look for food, without worrying about a Zhentish patrol picking us up. I can't even -"

"Stop thinking of only yourself, you old con man," Varden snapped. "There's a very real chance that Midnight 's companion may be enduring torture even as we speak. He might even be dead, for all we know. Bane is going to crushScarsdalebeneath his black boots. The least we can do is try to strike a blow against the tyrant."

"Enough!" Barth barked, waving Varden away with a meaty, unwashed hand. "Your pa.s.sion and your beliefs are not the issues. We've already sent messengers to alert Sembia of the takeover. If we wait it out, reinforcements will arrive. Then we'll attack the Zhentilar. Not before." The Sembian paused for a moment and picked a bit of his lunch from his teeth with a dagger. "Right now, any attack would be a waste of effort and men."

"There's another reason you need us," Midnight said. She hated to lie, but she was beginning to realize that Barth was going to give her no other choice. "Bane is in possession of a mystical object that we were carrying to Tantras for Elminster the Sage." The Sembian looked up quickly, nearly poking himself in the cheek with his dagger. Midnight smiled and continued. "The object is an amber sphere of great power. If Bane learns what it is and how to control it, he will have the power in his hands to find you whenever he wants to."

Panic flared in the eyes of the Sembian leader. "Perhaps I could spare a few men," Barth said slowly, his mind racing. "Tell me, with this sphere, would you be able to destroy the Zhentil Keep garrison?"

He won't help me for altruistic reasons, Midnight thought to herself, but fear certainly convinced him to a.s.sist me soon enough. "No," Midnight said with mock sadness. "Only a G.o.d, or a being with a G.o.d's power, could accomplish such a task with this object."

Barth paled slightly. "If it's a danger to my, uh, soldiers, I'll a.s.sign two men to your party. They'll a.s.sist you in your efforts to retrieve this magical sphere... and your friend." The Sembian cleared his throat and wiped a thin film of sweat from his brow.

"You have our thanks," Midnight said.

Barth made a futile attempt at a smile. "Yes, well, perhaps you should get going right away. We wouldn't want... your friend to suffer any undue danger, would we?" Midnight nodded and silently cursed the Sembian, then led her friends out through the curtain and into the section of the tunnel where the soldiers were gathered.

Almost an hour pa.s.sed before the soldiers who had been a.s.signed to a.s.sist Midnight arrived. The heroes had pulled together a few crates to serve as a table, and the section of the tunnel they occupied had started to look like a military planning room. Maps of Scardale and the outlying areas lay all over the floor. Trade routes and various notations concerning the business districts of the town marked the surfaces of the maps, which had come from a local merchant's looted store, making it impossible to make out some of the map's details.

As Midnight , Adon, Varden, and Gratus huddled over a map of the harbor, two young men wearing grubby, nondescript clothing approached the heroes. The first soldier, a tall, dark-haired man with a pale complexion, stepped forward. He was a tired-looking youth, with deep circles under his eyes. "I'm Wulstan. This is Tymon. We're both from Hillsfar."

The second man was also dark-haired, but his craggy nose appeared to have been broken several times. However, in general, he seemed in much better health than his friend. He nodded to the heroes.

Midnight stood up. "Well met," she said, and proceeded to introduce herself and her companions. "Thank you both for volunteering to help us."

The soldiers glanced oddly at one another, then back at Midnight . "Volunteer?" Wulstan asked incredulously. "Are you serious?"

Varden surged forward, a dark scowl on his face. "You mean the two of you had to be ordered to help us attack your enemies?" Wulstan looked away awkwardly.

The thief looked down the tunnel at the other soldiers gathered there. "Is there no one here who has the heart to fight the Zhentilar to regain Scardale?" Varden cried loudly enough for the others to hear.

"Not really," Tymon said matter-of-factly as he walked past Varden and sat down. "But orders are orders, and you will find that neither Wulstan nor I will shrink from our responsibilities."

Varden bowed his head and returned to the maps. "I suppose that your best effort is all we can ask for," Adon sighed and put his hand on Tymon's shoulder. "At least under these circ.u.mstances."

Wulstan snorted and rolled his eyes. "Spare us the sermon, cleric." The worn fighter walked to Midnight 's side. "Just tell us what we're supposed to do."

Adon narrowed his eyes and started to speak, but Gratus stood up quickly and cleared his throat. "Well, we have a number of obstacles to overcome," the old merchant noted. "We can expect that the Zhentish garrison will be filled to overflowing with Bane's soldiers. To relieve the overcrowding, the fallen garrisons of the Zhent's enemies will be occupied if possible."

Wulstan muttered to himself, then growled, "Once we leave this hiding place, there'll be no other safe place for shelter. Isn't that what you're trying to say, old man?"

Gratus ignored the sullen soldier and continued. "However, we might be able to get lodging in a private house." The old merchant ran his hand over his face and tapped his chin. "The people of Scardale have declared themselves neutral. They won't be interested in harboring fugitives. But I have friends that might be willing to help."

"The Zhentilar will be prowling the streets," Midnight added, "and I wouldn't be surprised if at least one of Bane's a.s.sa.s.sins is airborne, combing the streets for Adon and me." The mage grew silent.

"So our first problem is getting to the Zhentish garrison in one piece," Varden said flatly. "Then what?"

"The obvious," Gratus answered, rubbing his hand over his bald spot. "Getting inside, retrieving Midnight 's belongings, and rescuing her friend. Then the small matter of getting out again."

"At least they're simple problems," Wulstan muttered moodily.

"The Zhentish may be expecting us to make such an attempt," Adon added. "It's possible the Zhentilar may have set up a trap. They might let us get into the garrison with only token resistance, then capture us with ease."

Gratus frowned and sat down. "So what do you suggest?" the old man asked. "It it's such an impossible task, why are we undertaking it?"

Midnight 's eyes flashed. "We're doing this because we must!" the mage snapped. "And we have one thing you haven't mentioned that may tip the scales in our favor. The one thing the Zhentish won't expect."

Adon looked up. "Magic!" he breathed softly. "But Bane has your spellbook."

"There's one spell left in my memory," Midnight said, smiling at the scarred cleric. "One I was studying before we were captured."

Varden shook his head and started to object. The two young soldiers eyed the exit from the tunnel. Gratus nervously rubbed behind his ears. "If you mean to teleport us halfway across the city," the old man snapped, "you can count me out right now."

"No," Midnight answered. "That would be madness. We could end up inside solid rock or buried beneath the Ashaba." The two soldiers from Hillsfar glanced nervously at each other and frowned.

"Any spell is dangerous," Varden said. "There are no guarantees -"

"Life itself has no guarantees," Adon interjected, running his hand across his scarred cheek. "Let her finish."

Tymon nodded. "Though I'm afraid to find out what the mage has in mind, I think we should at least hear what she has to say."

Varden frowned. "All right. Go ahead," the thief said, defeated.

"It's a spell of invisibility," Midnight stated, a smile creeping back onto her lips. It casts a cloak of invisibility for ten feet in all directions. If it works, we should stay invisible unless we attack somebody. And since we would plan on avoiding any attack, we should remain invisible for the entire time we make our way through the town."

"I still feel -," Varden began.

"Enough!" Wulstan snapped, standing up and moving to Midnight 's side. "The matter is no longer up for debate. I'm no more anxious than any of you to die, but it we can possibly be safe and still follow our orders, then I say we should give the mage her chance."

Midnight 's smile grew broader, and Tymon, Gratus, and Adon nodded in agreement with Wulstan. Only Varden looked away from the mage, deep concern lining his face. "Fine. We should leave by the butcher shop entrance immediately," the raven-haired mage said. "And we probably should inform Barth of our plan." The heroes crossed the tunnel to the Sembian's quarters.

The Sembian leader looked shocked when Midnight explained their plan. "At least give me a few minutes to clear the guards from the bas.e.m.e.nt entrance before you begin your sorceries," the burly fighter mumbled. "A good thing we have another exit."

After Barth recalled the guard from the small bas.e.m.e.nt of the butcher shop, the heroes crawled through the tunnel and prepared to leave the Sembians' haven. At the bottom of the stairs, Midnight gathered the components for her spell. From her pocket, she removed a small piece of gum arabic, which she carried especially for this spell. Then she collected a single eyelash from each of the heroes. Finally the mage encased the eyelashes in the gum and began her chant.

Gratus and Varden exchanged nervous glances. The soldiers from Hillsfar trained their attention at the wall beyond the mage and forced themselves to think about anything but what might happen. Adon, however, stood before his friend, smiling serenely. From the cleric's expression, it seemed he would welcome even death itself if the spell went awry and killed them all.

Steadying her nerves, Midnight finished the incantation. Unable to think of a single spell that had worked properly for her since the escape from Shadowdale, the mage prayed that this one would work - for Kelemvor's sake. Soon a blue-white glow began to surround Midnight . The heroes gasped and s.h.i.+elded their eyes as the light intensified, filled the room, then faded.

Gratus looked around the bas.e.m.e.nt at his companions. "Nothing happened!" the old man said, much relieved. "And we're still alive!"

At the same moment, Midnight saw Barth poke his head out of the crawls.p.a.ce between the bas.e.m.e.nt and the tunnels. A look of amazement filled his face. The burly man's lips moved silently, and the mage laughed.

"What's wrong with you?" Wulstan said as he approached Midnight . "I can still see you. Your spell didn't work. Why should you be laughing?"

Adon pointed toward Barth, and the heroes turned to see the Sembian staring into the room. "I-I can hear you," he whispered, "so the spell must have worked. But I still can't see you. You are there, aren't you?"

"We're just testing the effectiveness of the spell," Midnight said, and the burly fighter started slightly, b.u.mping his head on the top of the crawls.p.a.ce. "Let's go, then," the mage said, and the heroes left the hiding place.

As Midnight and her allies journeyed across the city, Gratus stopped from time to time to point out various safe houses whose residents were likely to admit them should the need arise. "Lashan had friends in the city," Gratus noted softly as the heroes pa.s.sed one such house. "And many of them do not approve ofScarsdale's declared neutrality."

"I've been curious about something, Gratus," Midnight said softly. "Exactly what is it you do inScarsdale? You aren't a mage, a fighter, or a thief. How do you make ends meet?"

Varden laughed. "I'm not so sure he isn't a thief."

Gratus leaned close to Midnight . "I was Lashan's Minister of Propaganda," he whispered. "The city pensioned me off, but they refused to turn me over to the likes of these two b.o.o.bs from Hillsfar on the condition that I keep my mouth shut about Lashan's possible return. Now I sell boots."

Wulstan overheard parts of what the old merchant said and quickly moved to Gratus's side. "You'd better watch what you're saying, old man, if you know what's good for you," the fighter growled.

Gratus replied mockingly, "So the rumor is true... people from Hillsfar have no sense of humor whatsoever."

Wulstan reached for his sword, hut his partner quickly raised his hand. "Stay your arm!" Tymon warned. "We can't afford to have our invisible s.h.i.+eld fade. The moment we attack something... anything... we will become visible."

Adon stepped between Gratus and Wulstan and looked at the mage. "If only one of us attacks something, will the spell be canceled for us all?" the cleric asked quietly.

Varden took Gratus by the arm and pushed him in front of Midnight . "The way magic works nowadays, I wouldn't be surprised if we are never visible again," the thief said with a grin.

Midnight 's flesh paled. She had not even considered the possibility that the spell might work too well.

"Imagine the fortune that could be ama.s.sed in this town by a thief gifted with invisibility," the thief went on, apparently happy for the first time in hours.

The Hall of Records, where Midnight and Adon had met Gratus earlier in the day, came up on the left. The building looked the same as it had earlier in the day, although a lone Zhentilar stood guard at the doors.

"I was worried they'd burn the place down," Gratus whispered as they pa.s.sed the guard. "There are some very interesting papers I'd like to retrieve from there."

They continued on to the end of the block, then took a sharp right. Immediately the heroes spotted the warehouse where the a.s.sa.s.sins had landed and the Zhentish garrison beyond that. As expected, the sounds of revelry floated through the streets from the garrison. A token number of guards were posted outside the fort, and the entire building that served as the Zhentish headquarters was brightly lit.

"Bane must be allowing his soldiers to celebrate with a victory party," Midnight said softly as she led the heroes into an alley next to the warehouse.

"How very different from the way he drove his troops in the Battle of Shadowdale," Adon observed. "I wonder if the Black Lord's defeat has humbled him in some way..."

"I doubt it," Midnight replied. "Perhaps he's simply learned to recognize the value of his troops. In any case, we might just he able to turn his lenience against him."

"You mean you've solved the problem of how we get in?" Varden asked, running his hand through his blond hair.

"We need to check out the warehouse before we worry about the garrison itself," Midnight said as she turned to Varden. "We should circle around the building and see if there are any other doors."

The heroes slowly moved around the outside of the warehouse, staying as close to the side of the building as possible. Twice groups of Zhentish soldiers pa.s.sed them, singing bawdy songs and telling off-color jokes, but they never even suspected that six intruders were only a few yards away.

At the rear of the warehouse, Varden discovered another door, though this one was locked. The thief quickly took out his lockpicks, and in a moment the door was open. He opened it slowly and peered inside.

"We couldn't have come at a better time," Varden whispered as he turned to Midnight . "The warehouse looks empty. We should be able to move around freely." The heroes silently filed into the building, with Midnight in the middle so that no one would stray outside the invisibility spell's area of effect.

"Close the door," Midnight hissed when they were all inside.

Wulstan started to follow Midnight 's order, then paused and looked at the door's lock. "It looks like it locks both ways," the fighter said, motioning for Midnight to examine the door.

Midnight nodded and removed a piece of the gum that she had left over from her incantation and handed it to the soldier. "Put this in the lock first. The door will shut, but it won't lock. Then we won't be trapped if we need to make a quick exit."

Wulstan and Varden both looked at the mage with surprised expressions.

"An old friend taught me that trick," the raven-haired magic-user said, her thoughts suddenly turning to Cyric. But then Midnight felt a dark, somber mood settle over her, and for an instant, she was almost overwhelmed by her sorrow. The mage closed her eyes, steeled her will, and dismissed the emotion. Cyric's dead, and there's nothing I can do about it, the mage decided calmly. Kelemvor's alive and in need of my help. I can grieve later.

Midnight 's thoughts were interrupted when Gratus moved to her side. "Could that be something you're looking for?" the old man asked as he pointed toward the shadows twenty feet to the left of the door.

Midnight squinted. Something sparkled in the moonlight. It looked like tiny shards of amber light.

"It couldn't be!" she breathed, then advanced toward the light. Adon rushed ahead of her and bent down over a partially open canvas sack.

" Midnight , they're here!" the cleric cried, a broad smile lighting up his face. "The sphere of detection and your spellbook are right here!"

"The a.s.sa.s.sins must have forgotten about them in the confusion caused by our escape!" Midnight said, picking up the sack.

"I didn't forget about it at all," a voice boomed from a darkened corner across the warehouse. "And I was counting on your not forgetting it either." Durrock stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight filtering in through the windows. He wasn't wearing his armor, and his disfigured face was uncovered as he walked toward the heroes.

Midnight nearly gasped as she saw the a.s.sa.s.sin's face, and a brief flicker of sympathy flared inside her. Then she felt the canvas bag slip in her grasp, and she tightened her grip on it. Quickly the mage realized that, since she didn't have the canvas sack with her when she first cast the invisibility spell, it was still visible!

"Thanks for showing me exactly where you are," Durrock growled as he drew his night-black sword. The a.s.sa.s.sin was striding straight toward Midnight . "I've been waiting here for you for some time now."

The heroes spread out as far as they dared, and as Durrock came close to the mage, several of them circled behind him. Midnight tossed the sack to the ground and tried to dodge the a.s.sa.s.sin's attack, but the scarred killer made a feint forward, then reached out and grabbed the mage's hair. Midnight screamed.

Suddenly a large wooden plank crashed over the a.s.sa.s.sin's head, staggering him and forcing him to release his grasp on the mage. As Midnight scrambled away from Durrock, a blue-white aura enshrouded each of the heroes as the spell of invisibility faded.

Gratus stood behind the a.s.sa.s.sin, the shattered plank of wood still in his hands. Durrock gripped his night-black sword more tightly and screamed with rage and pain. The a.s.sa.s.sin's sword flashed out just as Varden grabbed the old man's shoulders and yanked him backward. The sword bit into Gratus's chest and blood spurted from the wound.

Midnight backed away from Durrock in shock. The a.s.sa.s.sin turned and took a step toward the raven-haired mage, but Adon appeared beside her and look hold of her arm. "Run!" the cleric hissed as he pulled the magic-user toward the door.

Durrock started to follow her, but the two soldiers from Hillsfar stepped into his path, drawing their swords. "Come on, you Zhentish pig. Let us see how you fare against someone closer to your own age!" Tymon taunted as he stood before the scarred man.

Wulstan glanced over his shoulder at Midnight , "Take your treasure and run!" the fighter screamed. Midnight hesitated for an instant in the doorway, then picked up the canvas sack and backed out of the warehouse. Varden was already pulling the wounded merchant to the door, but Adon took hold of Gratus, too, and the heroes disappeared into the night. They slipped into the shadows and were far from the Zhentish garrison before the drunken soldiers even knew what had happened.