by Edward Bolme
Not that Kehrsyn had taken particularly good precautions. To a seasoned stalker like him, her subtlety rang with furtive intent. Still, he rationalized, she was cautious, and that was probably more than enough in weather like that against what he presumed was an unsuspecting target.
He’d watched her study the building, moving in a circumspect circuit around it. She’d seen her study the figure that sat near one window. He’d watched her bump a massively built matron of a resident, presumably to cut her purse or some such. Though the acting was contrived, she had fast hands. He had to give her that—very fast hands, and a light touch. The matron had left, none the wiser.
The front door of the building opened again, and a group of people stepped out. They walked in roughly his direction, hunkered down against the rain. He glided out of his cover along an intercept course, hoping to glimpse a clue to their affiliation as he passed. And, as he asked them for unneeded directions, he did: they were dressed in scarlet and black, and he caught a glimpse of the dragon-heads sigil that marked the bearer as a follower of Tiamat, the Dragon Queen.
Demok touched the brim of his rain-soaked hood in thanks for their assistance and watched them shuffle off into the cold winter rain.
Tiamatans, he thought. How interesting. My masters will be most interested to hear of her escapades here.
Demok crossed back to his watch post and waited for Kehrsyn to reappear.
I only hope she is of the proper temperament to be recruited, he reflected. If not … such a weapon cannot be allowed to fall into other hands.
He saw a shadow exit the building from the upstairs window. It was Kehrsyn. His heart skipped a beat as he caught a glimpse of her. The excitement of the hunter when he sees his prey, he told himself.
He watched the lithe, expert fashion in which she climbed back down the building, and one corner of his mouth pulled up appreciatively. She moved away, unrolling her cloak against the rain. She never noticed him slide from the shadows and begin stalking her again.
“Well, fancy meeting you here,” said Kehrsyn, her smile a bright oasis in the grim, gray rain that drenched the stalls of the bazaar.
Demok pressed his lips together in an expression that Kehrsyn suspected was as jovial as his scarred face ever got.
“Massedar sent me to look for you,” he said.
“Why, Demok,” said Kehrsyn with mock astonishment, “I do believe that’s the longest sentence I’ve yet heard you say.”
To her surprise, he actually laughed, a single coughing snort that showed teeth.
“I’ll work on that,” he said.
He stepped aside and gestured chivalrously. Kehrsyn nodded and winked at him, and the two of them walked side by side through the soggy streets of Messemprar, the dense city mud unable to stick to their boots in the face of such a rain.
After several moments of silence, Kehrsyn finally said, “Is there some kind of problem? I mean, I’m surprised that someone as important as Massedar would trouble himself for someone like me.”
“Explain.”
“I mean, I’m just a juggler who—”
Demok raised his hand so sharply that Kehrsyn thought he was going to strike her.
“No,” he said, “you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” she said. “Call it what you like, but—”
“A juggler you are. You are not a ‘just a’ juggler,” said Demok, glaring at her.
Nervous, Kehrsyn returned his gaze and said, “If you didn’t look so angry, I’d say that was maybe a compliment.”
“You have exceptional skills,” Demok said, dropping his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know if—”
“Good with people, too.”
There was a long pause.
“Thanks,” said Kehrsyn.
She glanced at Demok, and perhaps he nodded, but that was all the acknowledgment he gave.
They walked a ways farther.
“Does he think that?” she asked, a guilty lilt in her voice.
“Who?” asked Demok.
“Massedar,” said Kehrsyn with a smile. “Does he think I have ‘exceptional skills’? Is that why he sent you out to find me?”
“In part,” said Demok.
“Why else?” asked Kehrsyn.
She glanced at her companion, but she couldn’t see his eyes for the hood he wore. All she received for an answer was a resolute set to his jaw.
“Is he …?” she pressed. “Does he think I’m …? That is, I know it’s business, but …” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, so instead she gave up, exasperated. “Oh, you wouldn’t know,” she sighed. “Just forget about it.”
Demok stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.
“I will,” he said, “if you will.”
“What do you mean?” asked Kehrsyn, but Demok had already turned and was heading on, his long gait even faster than before, and Kehrsyn had to trot to keep pace. “Tell me! What do you mean?”
“Forget about it,” said Demok. “Good advice.”
Kehrsyn grumbled at his curt behavior but said nothing further for several blocks, though she refused to keep trotting and started to trail behind her escort. Gradually Demok’s pace slowed to allow her to catch up.
They walked a while farther in peace, listening to the rain on their hoods, before Kehrsyn broke the silence again. “I hope I didn’t offend him,” she said, a little too loudly to be talking to herself.
Demok did not appear to hear her statement.
“Do you think I upset him?”
He glanced at her and said, “You stole his staff.”
“No, I mean about saying I expected him to … you know, well, have his … his way …”
Demok slowed just a bit.
“Why did you give that answer?” he asked, his eyes boring into Kehrsyn’s.
“Well, because I’m poor, and he’s powerful, and my mother was poor, and it happened to her when she attracted the attention of a powerful man. And I’ve got her good looks, or so people say, so I’ve always just figured it was a matter of time before it happened to me.”
Demok nodded and resumed at his brisk pace.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Kehrsyn said, but to no avail.
“Well,” she puffed under her breath, “if he wants to avoid talking, he should quit asking questions.”
“I understand thee not,” said Ahegi. “Why dost thou not search the maid straightaway?”
“Dear advisor,” replied Massedar, “thou hast the subtlety of a flatulent camel. Heed thou my words, and all shall be reckoned well with the maiden.”
“I shall obey thee,” said Ahegi, though he bridled speaking the words, especially after such a comparison. “Just rest stalwart that this wench stealeth not thy heart as well as thy treasures.”
Massedar narrowed his eyes just a shade and said, “Thinkest thou that I remain not in control of all within this house?”
In response, Ahegi studied his lord. Ahegi knew all about lusts. He had, in fact, spent his whole life indulging his own, and, while he might never admit his own ruled him, he could tell when lust ruled others. He knew Massedar was a man of lust, though he had never quite figured out what its object was.
“Think I that thou dost protest overmuch,” answered Ahegi at last, measuring the words evenly.
He bowed and left the audience hall, shutting the door quietly behind him.
A pair of guards met Demok and his quarry at the door. The guards gruffly ordered them to follow, not even allowing them to doff their cloaks. The fluster of movement enhanced the sharp division between the cold weather outside and the warm surroundings inside. Though Demok was used to such abrupt and disruptive arrangements—they being a staple of Massedar’s forcible negotiating style—Kehrsyn seemed put out by the aura of urgency. That, of course, was the intent.
The guards ushered them along briskly and blew into the meeting room without preamble. One of the guards shoved Kehrsyn forward so that she stood alone in the center of
the room, almost exactly where she had been manacled in the first interview.
As expected, Massedar stood with his back turned. He’d lowered his head almost to his breast, his arms crossed.
Demok counted silently in his head. One … two … three … four.
Massedar whirled, his long robes swirling around him menacingly.
“Where hast thou been?” he shouted, carefully enunciating every syllable of the High Untheric for maximum effect.
Demok nodded appreciatively. It was a good pause, too long to be short, short enough to be surprising.
Kehrsyn stood startled, perhaps even scared. Massedar widened his eyes beneath his placid brows, giving him a murderous aspect. He strode over to Kehrsyn, his lips pressed into a slight frown, his nostrils flaring like those of a frenzied horse.
Kehrsyn’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. Massedar didn’t break stride but moved right up against her, looking down upon her fair face as he gripped her head in his hands.
“Speak thou an answer unto me,” he said, an authoritative tone to his quiet voice, his nose brushing hers, his lips scant inches from her mouth.
Demok could see Kehrsyn trembling ever so slightly.
“I’ve been trying to find it for you,” Kehrsyn wailed, barely keeping her composure from collapsing entirely.
Demok raised one eyebrow. She was trying to find it … for him. He was right. The young woman was falling for Massedar. Despite demonstrations to the contrary, he doubted the reverse was true. Demok had hardly ever seen the man display an unconditionally honest emotion.
Massedar closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, putting a very slight shudder into it. He released her head gently and stepped backward, letting his fingers delicately trace the curve of her jaw as he disengaged.
He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes, filling them with a pleading look as he locked with Kehrsyn’s tear-bedewed gaze.
“Thou must forgive me,” he said, softly, sadly, gently, with an almost imperceptible shake of the head. “I have been greatly afflicted by thy absence, and my thoughts have been of thy charge.”
“I’ll get the staff for you,” said Kehrsyn, drying one eye on the cuff of her blouse.
“Of course thou shalt,” said Massedar, “but as well must thou return in safety. Say thou the word and it shall be given to you, even unto the best of my guards to ensure your well-being.”
Kehrsyn looked even more confused than she had when he was yelling at her. Before she could say anything, however, Ahegi stepped back into the room.
“My lord,” he said, “a moment of thy time.”
Massedar glanced at Ahegi, looked back at Kehrsyn, and clenched one fist as if trying to grasp an opportunity slipping away.
“But a moment, lovely one,” Massedar said to Kehrsyn with a regretful nod, “and but a moment only, for I must attend to this.”
He turned and strode briskly out of the room, all tenderness cast aside for a powerful, martial motion, leaving through the double doors through which Demok and Kehrsyn had entered.
Ahegi cast an eye after Massedar as he left, then shut the doors. He thrust his chin at Kehrsyn.
“Search ye her,” he growled.
“What?” asked Kehrsyn, all the more nervous, for Ahegi looked even more familiar with that menacing look upon his face. “Why?”
Ahegi said nothing.
Kehrsyn’s thoughts flashed to the counterfeit staff, thrust through her sash at the small of her back. Startled by Massedar’s aggressive demeanor, she’d already admitted that she was still looking for the real thing. If the forgery were to be found, she’d have a lot more explaining to do. Under such duress, she had no desire to reveal that she had it to that vile man. She would reveal the decoy on her terms and benefit from it. She wished Massedar hadn’t left. Clearly he was far too powerful a man for his advisor to dare such a humiliating search in his presence.
“Fine,” said Kehrsyn with a shrug, mustering all the nonchalance she could. “I have nothing to hide. But I’m going to tell him you had me searched.”
“No,” said Ahegi, raising one eyebrow, “thou shalt not.”
Something in the threatening way he said that hit Kehrsyn hard in the heart and ensured that she would remain silent.
The two guards who had escorted her upstairs moved in to inspect her. Kehrsyn undid the clasp of her cloak, let it down over her shoulders, and swung it behind her. As she did so, she pushed the staff out from her sash with one hand and took it into the other, all concealed by the cloak’s material. She brought the cloak forward but stepped on the hem, nearly pulling it from her hand and giving her a chance to slide the staff into her right boot. She handed the cloak to a guard, who shook it, checked the inside for pockets, and dropped it to the floor.
Kehrsyn held out her arms as they patted her down, wincing as one guard ran his hand across the burn on the back of her left arm. One guard patted the place between her shoulder blades as well, but thankfully she’d not opted for that hiding place.
Before Ahegi could suggest it, she pulled off her boots. First she pulled off the left one, held it up, shook it, and tossed it to one guard. As she pulled off the right boot, she took the opportunity to glower at Ahegi. It attracted his attention to her eyes and away from her hands. She used her left middle finger to pull open the cuff at her right hand, and her right thumb to keep the staff in place. She raised that boot up, inverting it as she had the last, and the staff slid into her sleeve. She tossed the boot to a guard. Then, with the staff wedged between the heel of her hand and the crook of her elbow, she stood, hands on hips, while the guards patted down her leggings.
Once they finished, she picked up her cloak with her left hand, shook it, brushed it, and folded it up, sliding the staff out of her sleeve and into the folds before someone noticed the odd shape of her shirt.
She walked over to one wall, tossed the cloak unceremoniously on the floor under a chair, sat down upon it, and said, “Can I have my boots back now, or are you going to stand there and smell them?”
The guards shrugged and handed Kehrsyn her boots. No sooner had she put them back on than Massedar returned. She smiled in relief, stood, and subconsciously moved closer to him, feeling safe once more, perhaps even protected. She looked around the room, and the guards avoided eye contact—everyone except Demok, who studied her, one thumb running back and forth across his lower lip.
“Forgive thou me for that interruption, Mistress Kehrsyn,” said Massedar, “as well as for my unseemly outburst earlier. Let us begin afresh, shall we?”
“Sure,” she said with a timid smile and a hostile glance at Ahegi.
Massedar clasped his hands together in front of his sternum in a position that was somewhere between martial and supplicating.
“I have been ill pleased that thou hast no further tidings to impart unto me,” he said. “Thy absence maketh me to fret for thy sake and as well vexeth me for the fate of the staff which thou hast yielded into the hands of others.”
“Well, I think I have an idea where your magic wand might be, but I’m not yet sure who’s really behind it all.”
“Let my guards be sent to investigate directly.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Kehrsyn. “This situation needs a delicate touch, and I think maybe I can get it back for you without anyone finding out I did it.”
“If anyone might succeed, thou, who hast purloined it, shall surely meet with favor,” said Massedar with a wry smile. “Tell me, then, who holdeth my goods.”
“Well, it’s not Furifax and his people, for sure,” Kehrsyn said. “The church of Tiamat had a hand in it, but I don’t think they have it, either. I think it’s someone else, some group working with them.”
Massedar looked around the room and asked, “Hath anyone amongst us a suggestion?”
“The Red Wizards stand guilty of all manner of ill-doing,” said Ahegi. “Their hunger for magic is boundless. It surely lieth upon their heads.”
“No, I know
it’s not the Red—” began Kehrsyn.
“Submit thou not to their treachery,” said Ahegi. “Such a path, though seemly, dealeth hardly with the inexperienced.”
Kehrsyn hesitated, wondering if she should reveal her dealings with Eileph.
In that pause, Demok spoke up with a single word: “Zhentarim.”
Ahegi scoffed, “Yea, that brotherhood doth weigh with imbalanced scales, but of what use is such a prize to merchants of food?”
“Ties with Bane,” said Demok. “The caravans serve the church. God of Death. He’d love the staff.”
“Art thou familiar with which Banites do dwell within the city?” pressed Ahegi.
Demok’s hands moved to the hilts of his blades.
“Hold!” bellowed Massedar. He turned to Demok. “Thou wouldst have me believe Bane here in Messemprar acting in concert with Tiamat? Such webs are spun only by spiders.
“And Ahegi, thou namest Demok a Banite?” he added lightly, turning to his advisor. “Thou seest the hands of thine enemies raised against thee all about.”
Kehrsyn watched the exchange with interest, gauging the voice and expressions of all three. Ahegi and Demok wanted to continue the debate, but clearly Massedar wanted the subject dropped. Did he suspect Bane might have an agent among his people? If so, publicly disregarding such thoughts would put the agent more at ease.
“I think you’re both wrong,” hazarded Kehrsyn. “Tiamat always opposed Gilgeam, even killed him, right? And no one would willingly let Bane here. I mean, he’s a foreign deity, right?” She looked around for support but found only hard eyes upon her, excepting Massedar’s gaze, which was much softer. “So I think that whether it’s Tiamat or Bane, they’re just helping the real enemy: the Pharaoh of Mulhorand. They deliver this to the Mulhorandi army, it helps them take Messemprar, and whoever it was that helped out, they get to rule Unther under the Mulhorandi banner. Doesn’t that make sense?”
Silence hung in the room.
“Perfectly,” said Massedar. “Kehrsyn,” he said, “thou standest against the shadowy hand of the pharaoh. To thy duties: I have retained thee for the recovery of my own property. Thou shalt apprise me of thy progress. At the least, each eve shalt thou return here and thereafter to bed in a room which I shall have prepared for thee.” He moved closer to her, reached out, and gripped her upper arms in his hands, saying, “Thy future—”
