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."Once they rrrealize what's happening, they'll try to fight us off.So stay away from the drink, go in groups of five or more, and kill anyone you come across.We can loot and drink all we want after the fighting's done, but we've a battle to win first.Umberlee help the dog who comes back to my ship without blood on his sword!"The pirate crew roared their approval again.The gnoll laughed savagely."The night after next! Hulburg won't forget the name of Moonshark for many a year, that I promise you!" He waved his hairy paw in salute then dropped down the last few steps of the ladder and left Sorsil to dismiss the crew.Hamil twisted in his bench to look back at Geran.Well, there it is, the halfling said silently.How are we going to stop this, Geran?The swordmage looked at the pirates swarming over the deck, already boasting to each other about what they were going to do in Hulburg.He frowned and met Hamil's eyes, the only way that the halfling could hear his thoughts in return.I don't see any way around it, he answered.Tomorrow night we'll have to get to Hulburg, if we have to seize the ship and sail her there ourselves.TWELVE5 Marpenoth, The Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)The night air was cool and damp around Rhovann Disarnnyl as he flew above the roofs of Hulburg's wretched Tailings.He remained in the guise of Lastannor, the Turmishan mage who advised Lord Maroth Marstel, and as he arrowed through the dark sky a long, hooded brown cassock fluttered behind him.Ironically he'd invested enough time and effort into cultivating Lastannor's place in this miserable human town that he couldn't allow Lastannor to be seen going from the Marstel villa to the place he was going.Therefore he'd made use of a spell of flying to leave his quarters in Maroth Marstel's house unseen by any on the ground, and intended to return the same way later.Few folk were out and about at this hour, and he was fairly certain that no one would notice a silent, dark shape overhead, not when the guttering yellow streerlamps scattered here and there through the streets below obscured sight of what moved overhead.Rhovann crisscrossed the Tailings for a moment just to be sure of his bearings then he descended toward the building he sought.Without a sound he dropped down out of the night sky into the lightless alleyway behind the ramshackle inn and taphouse he was looking for.He looked around carefully, aware that robbers and thieves sometimes lurked in this very alleyway to prey upon the drunken patrons of the taphouse.For now, it seemed that he had the alley to himself.The reek of garbage and emptied chamberpots was thick in his nostrils, and he scowled.Humans—the poor ones, anyway—were a filthy race, at least by the standards he was accustomed to.Elves would never have permitted such a thing in one of their cities.Not for the first time, Rhovann cursed themisfortunes that had joined his fate to crude, boorish, stinking humans rather than the cultured Tel'Quessir among whom he belonged.It would have been better to raise a lonely tower in some remote wilderness and live as a recluse than to accept permanent exile among the towns and cities of humankind.Once he brought about Geran Hulmasters downfall, he might choose that very course of action.With a sigh, he picked his way out of the alleyway, turned to his left, and made his way into the inn's front door.Above the door a battered old wooden signboard showed a faded painting of three golden crowns above crossed swords.Rhovann glanced up and down the street then went inside.The taproom adjoined the foyer, and through the heavy wooden beams of the open doorway, he could see dozens of humans engaged in drinking themselves into a stupor with the worst sort of swill he could imagine.Some looked up as he entered, but he was well hidden in his voluminous cloak.Only a shadowed wedge of coarse brown skin showed beneath the cowl, along with a wiry gray beard cut in the distinctively squared-off style favored in Turmish.Rhovann found one of the serving maids hurrying past and stopped her with a touch of his hand."A friend expects me," he said in a low voice."It would be a private room.Where does he wait?"The serving-maid looked up at him, and a shadow of fear flickered over her face.She quickly brought her knuckle to her forehead and averted her eyes."If you please, this way, m'lord," she said.She led him back through the taphouse to a small dining room behind the common room, knocked, then let Rhovann into the room.Inside, a pale human with a patch of yellow-gray beard under his mouth waited by one end of the table, dressed in the tunic of a workman."Your guest is here, m'lord," the serving maid said."Excellent," the pale man replied."Bring us a flagon of your very best wine, my dear.None of that swill you normally serve, mind you; we are gentlemen of discriminating tastes.""As you wish, m'lord." The servant bobbed her head and withdrew.Rhovann stepped into the room, pulling the sliding door closed behind him."Could you have found a more squalid tavern for our meeting, Valdarsel?""I know it's not much, but they know me here," the pale man replied.He offered a humorless smile."The proprietor impresses me with the zeal ofhis service to the Black Sun.Inspired by his example—or, perhaps, simply fearful of losing their employment—his people do Cyric's work readily enough.They understand my requiremenrs, and they are careful to meet them.And, speaking of my requirements."Rhovann reached into his cassock and drew out a small leather pouch that jingled softly.He set it on the table and slid it over to the Cyricist priest, who weighed it in his hand then tugged the drawstring open to peer inside.The mage was all but certain that Valdarsel was in fact already in the pay of some other power with an interest in Hulburg, but he was prepared to pretend otherwise if the Cyricist thought it important.Besides, what did he care about Marstel's money?"It is the customary sum," Rhovann told him."Count it if you like.""I will later," Valdarsel answered.He tied the pouch closed and slipped it under his own tunic."My thanks, good mage.This should allow me to recruit and arm another fifty Cinderfists, although I'll likely need to bring some in from the nearby cities.Naturally, I will see to it that the Cinderfists cause no difficulties for House Marstel.""Naturally, although the time may come when I ask you to arrange for some selective damage to befall unimportant Marstel assets.It wouldn't do for my lord's properties to remain completely untouched by your mob.Some might grow suspicious.""A wise precaution," the Cyricist remarked."Let me know when and where you would like the Cinderfists to strike."There was a knock at the door behind him.The serving maid slid it open and carried in a tray loaded with a jug of wine, two goblets, a loaf of black bread, and a wedge of cheese.She set it on the table between the two men, poured wine in both goblets, then curtsied and withdrew.Rhovann waited for the door to slide shut before continuing."I have news that will interest you," he said."Sometime after midnight two nights from now, the Black Moon Brotherhood will attack Hulburg.I understand that it will be a large raid, the greatest pirate raid in the Moonsea in a hundred years—five ships full of corsairs.I expect that they will cause much damage to the neighborhoods close to the harbor."Valdarsel stared at him for a moment before leaning back in his chair with his goblet of wine."Indeed," he murmured."Have your magical divinations shown you this danger descending on the city?"Rhovann smiled."If you would like to think so.""And what leads you to provide me with warning of the attack?""In the wake of a devastating raid, there will be outrage and recriminations [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]