"A necessary elevation of status and wealth," said Kane, "to incite hope in the common folk that there is a better life for them; if not here then in the afterworld. You are the representative of their dreams and fantasies."
"And it is necessary?"
Kane didn't immediately answer, and Gareth looked closely at the man, great by any measure, yet standing in dirty, road-worn robes. Gareth laughed at that image, thinking that perhaps it was time for the Bloodstone Lands to see a bit more charity from the top.
"Damara is blessed, so her people say, and the goodly folk of Vaasa hold hope that they, too, will be swept under your protection," said Kane. "You heard their cheers at the castle. Wingham and all of Palishchuk call to Gareth to accept their fealty."
"You are a good friend."
"I am an honest observer."
Gareth patted his shoulder again.
"What of Entreri?" Kane asked.
"You should have left that dog dead on the muddy lands of Vaasa," said Lady Christine, coming out of her bedchamber.
Gareth looked at her, shook his head, and asked, "Does his foolish game warrant such a penalty?"
"He slew Lady Ellery, by his own admission," said Kane.
Gareth winced at that, as Christine barked, "What? I will kill the dog myself!"
"You will not," said Gareth. "There are circumstances yet to be determined."
"By his own admission," Christine said.
"I am protector of justice, am I not, Master Kane?"
"You are."
"Then let us hold an inquiry into this matter, to see where the truth lies."
"Then kill the dog," said Christine.
"If it is warranted," Gareth replied. "Only if it is warranted." Gareth didn't say it, and he knew that Kane understood, but he hoped that it would not come to that.
* * * * *
He had just heard the report from Vaasa, where his soldiers held forth at Palishchuk, and motioned to the majordomo to bring forth the Commander of the Heliogabalus garrison, where promising reports had been filtering in for a tenday. But to Gareth's astonishment, and to that of Lady Christine and Friar Dugald who sat with him in chambers, it was not a soldier of the Bloodstone Army who entered through the doors.
It was an outrageous dark elf, his bald head shining in the glow of the morning light filtering in through the many windows of the palace. Hat in hand, giant feather bobbing with every step, Jarlaxle smiled widely as he approached.
The guards at either side bristled and leaned forward, ready to leap upon the dark elf at but a word from their king.
But that word did not come.
Jarlaxle's boots clicked loudly as he made his way along the thickly-carpeted aisle. "King Gareth," he said as he neared the dais that held the thrones, and he swept into a low, exaggerated bow. "Truly Damara is warmer now that you have returned to your home."
"What fool are you?" cried Lady Christine, obviously no less surprised than were Gareth and Dugald.
"A grand one, if the rumors are to be believed," Jarlaxle replied. The three exchanged looks, ever so briefly.
"Yes, I know," Jarlaxle added. "You believe them. 'Tis my lot in life, I fear."
Behind the drow, at the far end of the carpet, the majordomo entered along with the couriers from Heliogabalus. The attendant stopped short and glanced around in confusion when he noticed the drow.
Gareth nodded, understanding that Jarlaxle had used a bit of magic to get by the anteroom—a room that was supposedly dampened to such spells. Gareth's hand went to his side, to his sheathed long sword, Crusader, a holy blade that held within its blessed metal a powerful dweomer of disenchantment.
A look from the king to the sputtering majordomo sent the attendant scrambling out of the room.
"I am surprised that I am surprising," Jarlaxle said, and he glanced back to let them know that he had caught on to all of the signaling. "I would have thought that I was expected."
"You have come to surrender?" Lady Christine asked.
Jarlaxle looked at her as if he did not understand.
"Have you a twin, then?" asked Dugald. "One who traveled to Palishchuk and beyond to the castle beside Artemis Entreri?"
"Yes, of course, that was me."
"You traveled with King Artemis the First?"
Jarlaxle laughed. "An interesting title, don't you agree? I thought it necessary to ensure that you would venture forth. One cannot miss such opportunities as Castle D'aerthe presented."
"Do tell," said Lady Christine.
A commotion at the back of the room turned Jarlaxle to glance over his shoulder, to see Master Kane cautiously but deliberately approaching. Behind him, staying near the door, the majordomo peered in. Then Emelyn the Gray appeared, pushing past the man and quick-stepping into the great room, casting as he went. He looked every which way—and with magical vision as well, they all realized.
Jarlaxle offered a bow to Kane as the man neared, stepping off to the side and standing calmly, and very ready, of course.
"You were saying," Lady Christine prompted as soon as the drow turned back to face the dais.
"I was indeed," Jarlaxle replied. "Though I had expected to be congratulated, honestly, and perhaps even thanked."
"Thanked?" Christine echoed. "For challenging the throne?"
"For helping me to secure the allegiance of Vaasa," Gareth said, and Christine turned a doubting expression his way. "That was your point, I suppose."
"That, and ridding the region immediately surrounding Palishchuk of a couple of hundred goblin and kobold vermin, who, no doubt, would have caused much mischief with the good half-orcs during the wintry months."
At the back of the room, Emelyn the Gray began to chuckle.
"Preposterous!" Friar Dugald interjected. "You were overwhelmed, your plans destroyed, and so now…" He stopped when Gareth held his hand up before him, bidding patience.
"I trust that none of your fine knights were seriously injured by the outpouring of vermin," Jarlaxle went on as if the friar hadn't uttered a word. "I timed the charge so that few, if any, would even reach your ranks before being cut down."
"And you expect gratitude for inciting battle?" Lady Christine asked.
"A slaughter, Milady, and not a battle. It was necessary that King Gareth show himself in battle in deposing King Artemis. The contrast could not have been more clear to the half-orcs—they saw Artemis hoarding monstrous minions, while King Gareth utterly destroyed them. Their cheering was genuine, and the tales they tell of the conquest of Castle D'aerthe will only heighten in heroic proportions, of course. And with Wingham's troupe in town at the time of the battle, those tales will quickly spread across all of Vaasa."
"And you planned for all of this?" Gareth asked, sarcasm and doubt evident in his tone—but not too much so.
Jarlaxle put a hand on one hip and cocked his head, as if wounded by the accusation. "I had to make it all authentic, of course," the drow explained. "The proclamation of King Artemis, the forced march of King Gareth and his army. It could not have been known a ruse to any, even among your court, else your own integrity might have been compromised, and your complicity in the ruse might have been revealed."
"I say foul," Lady Christine answered a few moments later, breaking the stunned silence.
"Aye, foul and now fear," Dugald agreed.
Gareth motioned for Kane and Emelyn to join him at the dais. Then he instructed Jarlaxle to leave and wait in the anteroom—and several guards accompanied the drow.
"Why do we bother wasting time with this obvious lie?" Christine said as soon as they had gathered. "His plans to rule Vaasa crumbled and now he tries to salvage something from the wreckage of ill-designed dreams."
"It is a pity that he chose the route he did," said Gareth. "He and his companion might have made fine interim barons of Vaasa."
All eyes turned to Gareth, and Christine seemed as if she would explode, so violently did she tremble at the thought.
"If Olwen were here, he
would have struck you for such a remark," Emelyn said.
"You believe the drow?" Kane asked.
Gareth considered the question, but began shaking his head almost immediately, for his instinct on this was clear enough, whatever he wanted to believe. "I know not whether it was a ruse from the beginning or a convenient escape at the end," he said.
"He is a dangerous character, this Jarlaxle," said Emelyn.
"And his friend has no doubt committed countless crimes worthy of the gallows," Christine added. "His eyes are full of murder and malice, and those weapons he carries…"
"We do not know that," Gareth said. "Am I to convict and condemn a man on your instinct?"
"We could investigate," said Emelyn.
"On what basis?" Gareth snapped right back.
The others, except for Kane, exchanged concerned glances, for they had seen their friend dig in his heels in similar situations and they knew well that Gareth Dragonsbane was not a malleable man. He was the king, after all, and a paladin king, as well, sanctioned by the state and by the god Ilmater.
"We have no basis whatsoever," said Kane, and Christine gasped. "The only crime for which we now hold Artemis Entreri is one of treason."
"A crime calling for the gallows," said Christine.
"But Jarlaxle's explanation is at least plausible," said Kane. "You cannot deny that the actions of these two, whatever their intent, solidified your hold in Vaasa and reminded the half-orcs of Palishchuk of heroic deeds past and the clearest road for their future."
"You cannot believe that this… this… this drow, went to Vaasa and arranged all of that which transpired simply for the good of the Kingdom of Bloodstone," said Christine.
"Nor can I say with any confidence that what has transpired was anything different than exactly that," said Kane.
"They sent an army of monsters against us," Dugald reminded them all, but his description drew an unexpected burst of dismissive laughter from Emelyn.
"They called a bunch of goblins and kobolds to their side, then put them before us for the slaughter," said Gareth. "I know not the depths of Jarlaxle's foolishness or his wisdom, but I am certain that he knew his monstrous army would not even reach our ranks when he sent them forth from the gates. Much more formidable would have been the gargoyles and other monsters of the castle itself, which he did not animate."
"Because he could not," Dugald insisted.
"That is not what Wingham, Arrayan, and Olgerkhan reported," reminded Kane. "The gargoyles were aloft when first they went to see what mischief was about the castle."
"And so we are left with no more than the crime of inconvenience," said Gareth. "These impetuous two circumvented all protocol and stepped far beyond their province in forcing me north, even if it was for the good of the kingdom. We have no proof that what they did was anything more than that."
"They tried to usurp your title," Christine said. "If you are to let that stand, then you condone lawlessness of a level that will bring down Bloodstone."
"There are darker matters at hand," Emelyn added. "Let us not forget the warnings we were given by Ilnezhara and Tazmikella. This Jarlaxle creature is much more than he appears."
The sobering remark left them all quiet for some time, before Gareth finally responded, "They are guilty of nothing more than hubris, and such is a reflection of our own actions those years ago when we determined the fate of Damara. It is possible, even logical, that Jarlaxle's ruse was exactly as he portrayed it, perhaps in a clever—overly clever, for he wound himself into a trap—attempt to gain favor and power in the wilds of the north. Maybe he was trying to secure a comfortable title. I do not know. But I have no desire to hold Artemis Entreri in my dungeon any longer, and he has not proven himself worthy of the noose. I will not hang a man on suspicion and my own fears.
"They will be banished, both of them, to leave the Bloodstone Lands within the tenday, and never to return, on pain of imprisonment."
"On pain of death," Christine insisted, and when Gareth turned to the queen, he saw no room for debate in her stern expression.
"As you will," he conceded. "We will get them far from here."
"You would do well to warn your neighbors," said Emelyn, and Gareth nodded.
The king pointed to Emelyn's robe, and the wizard huffed and pulled it open. He produced from a deep, extra-dimensional pocket the scroll they had found in the Zhengyian castle.
Gareth waved his friends back from the dais and motioned to the back of the room. A few moments later, Jarlaxle, his great hat still in his hands, again stood before the king.
Gareth tossed the scroll to the drow. "I know not whether you are clever by one, or by two," he said.
"I lived in the Underdark," the drow replied with a wry grin. "I am clever by multiples, I assure you."
"You need not, for it is exactly that suspicion that has led me to conclude that you and Artemis Entreri are guilty for your actions north of Palishchuk."
Jarlaxle didn't seem impressed, which put all of Gareth's friends on their guard.
"Exactly what that crime is, however, cannot be deduced," Gareth went on. "And so I take the only course left open to me, for the good of the kingdom. You are to remove yourself from the region, from all the Bloodstone Lands, within the tenday."
Jarlaxle considered the verdict for just a moment, and shrugged. "And my friend?"
"Artemis Entreri or the dwarf?" Gareth asked.
"Ah, you have Athrogate, then?" Jarlaxle replied. "Good! I feared for the poor fool, entangled as circumstance had made him with the Citadel of Assassins."
It was Gareth's turn to pause and consider.
"I was speaking of Artemis Entreri, of course," said Jarlaxle. "Is he under similar penalty?"
"We considered much worse," Christine warned.
"He is," said Gareth. "Although he was the one who assumed the title of king, I note that the castle was named for Jarlaxle. Similar crimes, similar fate."
"Whatever those crimes may be," said the drow.
"Whatever that fate may be," said Gareth. "So long as it is not a fate you discover here."
"Fair enough," Jarlaxle said with a bow.
"And if it were not?" said Christine. "Do you think your acceptance of the judgment of the king an important thing?"
Jarlaxle looked at her and smiled, and so serene was that look that Christine shifted uneasily in her chair.
"One more piece of business then," said Jarlaxle. "I would like to take the dwarf. Though he was entangled with the Citadel of Assassins, as you discerned, he is not a bad sort."
"You presume to bargain?" Christine asked indignantly.
"If I do, it is not without barter." Jarlaxle slowly pulled open his waistcoat and slid a parchment from its pocket. Kane shifted near as he did, and the drow willingly handed it over.
"A map to the hideout of the Citadel of Assassins," the drow explained.
"And how might you have fashioned or found such a thing?" Gareth asked suspiciously as his friends bristled.
"Clever by more ways than a human king could ever count," the drow explained. As he did, Jarlaxle shifted his great hat, turning it opening up. "Clever and with allies unseen." He reached into the hat and produced his trophy, then set it at the foot of the dais.
The head of Knellict.
After the gasps had quieted, Jarlaxle bowed to the king. "I accept your judgment, indeed," he said. "And would pray you to accept my trade, the map and the archmage for the dwarf, though I have already turned them over, of course. I trust in your sense of fair play. It is time for me to go, I agree. But do note, Gareth Dragonsbane, King of Damara, and now King of Vaasa, that you are stronger and your enemies weaker for the work of Jarlaxle. I expect no gratitude, and accept no gifts—other than one annoying dwarf for whom you have little use anyway. You wish us gone, and so we will go, with a good tale, a fine adventure, and an outcome well served."
He finished with a great and sweeping bow, and spun his feathered hat back up to his bald he
ad as he came up straight.
Gareth stared at the head, his mouth hanging open in disbelief that the drow, that anyone, had brought down the archmage of the Citadel of Assassins so efficiently.
"Who are you?" Christine asked.
"I am he who rules the world, don't you know?" Jarlaxle replied with a grin. "One little piece at a time. I am the stuff of Riordan Parnell's most outrageous songs, and I am a confused memory for those whose lives I've entered and departed. I wish you no ill—I never did. Nor have I worked against you in any way. Nor shall I. You wish us gone, and so we go. But I pray you entrust the dwarf to my care, and do tell Riordan to sing of me well."
Neither Gareth nor Christine nor any of the others could begin to fashion a reply to that.
Which only confirmed to Jarlaxle that it was indeed time to go.
CHAPTER 17
OF LOVE AND HATE
Entreri looked up as his cell door swung open and Master Kane entered, bearing a large canvas sack. "Your possessions," the monk explained, swinging the sack off his shoulder and dropping it on the floor at the man's feet.
Entreri looked down at it then back up at Kane, and said not a word.
"You are being released," Kane explained. "All of your possessions are in there. Your unusual steed, your dagger, your fine sword. Everything you had with you when you were captured."
Still eyeing the man suspiciously, Entreri crouched down and pulled back the top of the sack, revealing the decorated pommel of Charon's Claw. As soon as he gripped the hilt and felt the sentient weapon come alive in his thoughts, he knew that this was no bluff.
"My respect for you multiplied many times over when I lifted your blade," Kane said. "Few men could wield such a sword without being consumed by it."
"You seemed to have little trouble picking it up," Entreri said.
"I am far beyond such concerns," Kane replied. Entreri pulled the piwafwi out and slung it around his shoulders in one fluid motion. "Your cloak is of drow make, is it not?" Kane asked. "Have you spent time with the drow, in their lands?"
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