Blackstaff Tower w-1

by Steven E. Schend

  "Are you sure?" Meloon asked. He tried to push past her and look in the room himself. He had to stoop, since the doorway was low, and bumped into Laraelra as she turned to leave, knocking her off balance.

  She tumbled into the room and said, "Watch it, you-" and fell flat on her back, banging her hip and an elbow. However, before the pain ended her spell, she saw a large gray-silver field of magic above the door. "Meloon-there!"

  "What?" Meloon reached down to help her up, and a blood drop plopped onto his outstretched arm. He turned and looked up, just inside the doorway, but he saw nothing. Another blood drop appeared out of thin air and fell onto his shoulder.

  "Something's hidden there," Laraelra said, then pointed. "Look at those iron rings in the walls. See if there's a hammock up there. I think it's been made invisible, and it's hiding something inside it."

  Meloon poked upward with his left hand. He felt rough cloth and something heavier above that. He pushed harder and heard a low moan. Meloon started feeling around the edges of the invisible cloth, as the woman inside moaned in a foreign language.

  "You know what she's saying?" he asked. He found an edge to the invisible cloth. He pulled it open, finding a bloodied and dirtied dark-skinned woman with very short black hair and multiple wounds all over her body. Her eyes were open and staring, but instead of regular pupils, her eyes were dark orbs filled with crackles of red energy. "Whoa."

  "Renaer?" Laraelra yelled out into the corridor. "We've got another one here! And she needs help more than Charrar! Hurry!"

  Laraelra wanted a closer look at the woman, but if she was right about this, they were in a far worse game than they knew.

  Meloon stretched the invisible fabric of the hammock out of the way and rolled the wounded woman down into his arms. As she moved, a chorus of voices-men's and women's both- screamed in pain.

  "Sehlne preserve her, she definitely needs this more," Renaer said, as he arrived to see the dagger protruding from the woman's stomach. "Hold her, Meloon."

  Renaer held her head up, poured the potion into her mouth, and pulled the dagger free. Her body spasmed in reaction to the pain, but the belly wound closed up, as did the lesser wounds on her face and body. She began breathing easier, and her eyes flickered open briefly, but they remained storm-clouded orbs of black. Renaer looked up at Meloon, who just shrugged, but Laraelra pressed in behind them.

  "Don't you recognize her?" she asked.

  Renaer nodded, but the others shook their heads.

  "That's Vajra Safahr-the Blackstaffs lover!" Laraelra said. She didn't want to say more until she knew for certain, but she had the nagging suspicion that Ten-Rings and his associate were trying to steal the power of the Blackstaff-and she wondered how long the illusion-wearer had posed as Samark. Her thoughts were interrupted by Vharem carrying Charrar out into the hall toward them.

  "He tortured her too?" Charrar said. "I heard others being tortured down here, but not her." She clung to Vharem, who minded not one bit, and then said, "Get me out of here before he comes back again!"

  "Good idea," Renaer said, and he took Vajra into his arms. "Meloon, Elra, see if there's any other way out. Charrar, I'm sorry, but I've no more healing potions. We'll have to carry both of you out of here."

  Charrar nodded, but then tearfully put her head down on Vharem's shoulder and sobbed. Vharem held her closer just enough to ease his short sword back into its scabbard.

  "What are you doing?" Renaer snapped. "You might need that!"

  "And how are we going to fight if we're each carrying someone?" Vharem said. "If we go back the way we came, we can at least block off some passages and hole up until we can all move better. We know what's back there already."

  "Yeah," Renaer said, his eyes dropping, "but it's the things we don't expect that kill us."

  "The alleged Blackstaff sealed the corridor with some spells or illusions," Laraelra said. "We'll have to go back the way we came."

  "What about Faxhal?" Vharem asked, his eyes pleading with Renaer.

  "Later," Renaer said, his face cold and impassive. "We'll come back to bury him and mourn later. For now, let's move."

  "How do you know where we are, Elra?" Meloon's whisper echoed in the sewer pipes.

  "Can't tell you guild secrets," Laraelra replied, as she spotted the keystone in the archway over the intersection. This led into one of the secondary sewer lines beneath the city, and that rune told her they were heading north again. She was trying to get them back to the surface shaft at Heroes' Garden she and Meloon had used that morning. "Hear those picks? That means there're cellarers at work." She motioned for him to turn left, and they saw another light other than the lantern that she held.

  Two figures looked up, startled, when the lantern's light came into their tunnel. Laraelra smiled as the familiar gruff voice of Harug called out, "Who delves? Cry out or face blades!"

  "Less noise, old daern," Laraelra said. "It's Elra and friends."

  When they, met up, she moved ahead of Meloon to clasp forearms with both dwarves, thankful to see more friendly faces. It was obvious to Laraelra the dwarves had spent the past day clearing the channel and reshoring the wall.

  She looked closely at their work. "Nice secret door you seem to be installing here, Harug." When he scowled at that, she whispered, "It'll be our secret, old daern. Father needs not know."

  Harug gripped her forearm and muttered to her in his native Dwarvish, "Lass, be careful. Best not take this shaft up to the garden. There be folk waiting for ye up there. They don't talk like no Watch I ever seen. Fools forget voices carry down this way as well. Take the next one west up to Shank Alley. That'll leave them like ores waiting for a gopher that's left its hole."

  Laraelra nodded, then turned as Dorn clapped hands with Meloon. "Dorn Strongcroft pays his debts with friendship!" He spit into his hand and held it out for Meloon to shake, which he did. The young dwarf's eyes widened as he saw the man's weapon. "When that axe needs some work, you come see me cousin in Fields Ward. Ask for the Strongcroft smithy and mention my name. They'll steer ye arights."

  "Ow!" Charrar's voice echoed loudly in the subterranean tunnel. She continued her complaints as Vharem approached with her in his arms. "Vharem, aren't we getting out of the sewers soon? I don't like it here!"

  Laraelra wasn't sure Charrar could make more noise if she tried, and she watched the woman, wondering what didn't settle in her mind about her. She put her finger to her mouth and signaledfor silence. Then she motioned for them to follow, and they inched past Harug and Dorn.

  Laraelra let Meloon lead and, as she half-expected, Charrar pointed at the access ladder leading up and yelled, "Hey! There's a Laraelra clapped a hand over her mouth and glared. She whispered, "Someone's lying in wait for us up there, so we're going this way. Now keep quiet."

  Charrar's eyes narrowed, and she slowly nodded.

  When they did finally begin clambering up another surface shaft a while later, Laraelra went first and shoved the sewer shaft cover aside as quietly as she could. Next, Charrar clung to Vharem's neck as he climbed, whimpering as she bumped against each iron rung of the ladder. Meloon climbed up and lowered down a rope. Renaer, the last to leave the sewers, waited while the others reeled the unconscious Vajra up with a makeshift harness on the rope. Laraelra pretended to watch Vharem and Meloon stretching their arms and shoulders out, but she remained watchful of the sulking Charrar, who perched on some crates behind them.

  Charrar shifted her position and shoved a barrel to make her perch wider. Two empty crates clattered down into the alley. She flinched away and bumped her left foot into another barrel. She let out a scream and clutched her leg, whimpering.

  "Shut it, woman!" Vharem snapped. "You'll draw every cut-purse and Watchman in earshot!"

  Dawn was just breaking across the sky, and Laraela could see where she was. Between the smell of fish guts and one particularly gruesome demon's head painted on the back of the tallest building in the center of the alley, she figured out their
location. "We're in Shank Alley. That sign faces out on Morningstar Way for the Demondraught tavern."

  "If you say so," Meloon said. He turned toward Renaer. "Hey, you're probably tired, and I'm not. I'll carry Vajra for a while." He had hauled her up by rope and held her in the crook of one arm as he coiled the rope up with his other hand. His axe lay on the cobbles beside them.

  Renaer shook his head. "No, but thanks. I'll carry her, in case we have to run. I can keep up with you even while carrying her. I'd rather you were ready for anyth-"

  "Drop all weapons- and surrender!" The shout came from the alley's mouth to the west of them.

  "Like that?" Laraelra asked.

  CHAPTER 7

  A man's home, like a man's wife, holds many secrets from those who don't respect her or know how to hold her in the proper regard.

  Rhale the Wise, Maxims, the Year of the Halls Unhaunted (1407 DR)

  10 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

  Meloon, help me!" Renaer ran forward, and slammed his shoulder into the tall pile of crates near the alley entrance. Renaer and Meloon shoved the crates over just in time, seeing the surprised looks on the Watchmen's faces as the boxes of seaweed and shellfish toppled upon them.

  "Surrender!" Charrar shouted. "Renaer Neverember and company, you're in the custody of the Watch!"

  Vharem whipped around, reaching for his short sword, only to find its point at his throat. Charrar stood, despite the apparent wounds on her feet, and she had stolen his weapon. "Charrar, what-"

  "Don't embarrass yourself further, Vharem. I'm neither your woman nor your grateful rescued victim. Seems a shame, though, what the Blackstaff 11 do to you-such a waste of a good body." As Renaer and Meloon approached, she moved the sword point closer to Vharem's throat. Meloon groaned as he noted she stood on the head of his axe, pinning it to the ground. Charrar called to her compatriots, who struggled from beneath all the crates. "Hurry! We need to get them off the streets!"

  Two flashes of quicksilver slammed into Charrar's eyes and sword hand. She crumpled to the cobblestones.

  Laraelra stood in the shadows, the same silver color fading from her eyes. "I thought something wasn't right about her."

  "Run!" Renaer pointed up and to the right. "Go north on Morningstar Way!" His hands, however, waved to the south. Renaer scooped up Vajra and Meloon picked up his axe, while Laraelra grabbed the stunned Vharem by the shirt and dragged him into motion. He stumbled forward, holding his throat, and finally snapped out of it and broke into a run with her. The four of them slipped around the northern side of the Demondraught and ran south along Morningstar Way.

  Renaer stopped where Aureenar Street crossed Morningstar near the gray-stoned Stormstar Ride, and he noted that most every building was dark, the street-level shops closed and the homes above asleep beneath their brown-tiled roofs. He whispered, "Vharem, Ravencourt!"

  Vharem slowed and hooked arms with Laraelra to help her keep pace with him. Meloon turned, brandishing his axe, but Renaer shook his head. He inhaled a deep breath and let out a piercing whistle. Shouts behind them and sudden movement in the shadows from the debris- and cat-filled Shank Alley told Renaer they'd taken his bait. He launched himself and Vajra forward again, with Meloon running alongside again.

  "Why'd you do that?" Meloon asked. "We could have gotten away!"

  "I've no doubt we will get away, Meloon." Renaer said. "We lead them on a path of my choosing. I truly doubt they are the Watch-just sellswords wearing the colot s. If they're working with that fake Blackstaff, they're up to no good."

  "And what does this Ravencourt have to do with anything?" Meloon asked as he followed Renaer's direction further up Aureenar's Arc directly toward one of the Field Ward's watch towers.

  "Revenge," Renaer said. He took a look behind to see three figures in pursuit with a fourth trailing behind. He heard the farthest one yell, "They hurt Charrar! Get them!"

  Renaer cut a sharp right turn around a whitewashed stone-walled baker's shop, hooking his way into an inner courtyard. While the surrounding buildings were all one- and two-story taverns and shops, the four larger buildings within the courtyard each stood three stories high. Atop the gables on each of them loomed stone ravens. They didn't have time to admire the architecture as they caught up with Vharem and Laraelra, who had stopped, undecided which direction to go. Renaer barreled past them with a sharp "Follow me!" as he ran for the lone shadowtop tree at the far end.

  "There's no way out there, Renaer!" Vharem said, though he followed once he heard their approaching pursuers.

  Laraelra shouted out a spell, and a cone of bright colors filled the air just as the quartet of pursuers came around the corner. All of them yelled and stopped in their tracks, one of them falling senseless to the street. Laraelra broke into a run after her friends and called, "Who's after us-the Open Lord or the Blackstaff?"

  "You'll find out, lass," the lead man growled as he shook his vision clear and raced after her.

  Renaer ran to the far side of the tree, where he stopped. Meloon, Vharem, and Laraelra caught up quickly, surprised to see that Renaer had stopped again. "Are we letting them catch up again?" Meloon asked.

  "No. You and Vharem should try and clear the alley between the third and fourth buildings there." Renaer pointed at the western buildings a moment. "Elra, a little light here will help."

  Vharem and Meloon attacked the debris-laden midden, trying to create an exit. Laraelra sidled next to Renaer as the three remaining pursuers arrived. The three men drew swords out of their scabbards.

  "See, friends?" Renaer called. "The Watch never draws steel on unarmed foes, only rods or staves. They're our foes' hirelings, be sure."

  Laraelra's spell took effect, filling the air with blue light.

  The lead pursuer responded, "Only thing folks'U believe is what we tell-Huh?"

  The thug fell silent as the outline of the black-barked tree appeared atop the trio. A low moan seemed to issue out of the tree trunk along with a rustle and crackling of nigh-dead leaves and branches. The first man ran forward, intent on Renaer, when black shadows lashed out of the tree to wrap around his sword arm and body. He yelled, and his friends stepped back-too slowly. Leaf-enshrouded black vines lashed out at them too. All three screamed and howled when the vines crushed where they gripped, but their voices grew still as three final vines descended from the tree and looped around their necks as nooses. Branches cracked and groaned as they stretched under the feet of the three, raising them high above the street. With a loud crack, the branches all broke away, leaving the three men to freefall until the nooses ended their falls with the snapping of three necks.

  Laraelra watched, morbidly fascinated, as the tree's shadow seemed to shift and not resemble the tree's silhouette but a judge's gavel. She looked at Renaer, who had a grim look on his face. "Did you know that was going to happen?" she asked.

  "Yes, I expected something like that, but not nearly as dramatic," Renaer replied. "Guess old Magister Nharrelk gets angry if he doesn't claim any guilty souls in a century."

  "You led us under that thing, knowing it could attack us?"

  Renaer turned with Vajra in his arms, locking eyes with Laraelra as he turned. "We were always safe from the Hanging Tree of Ravencourt."

  "Why are you so certain?"

  "You haven't avoided punishment for any capital crimes in the city, have you?" Renaer said. "Those are the only ones who get judged by the Magistree."

  Vharem had watched what had happened even while working to free a passage, and his eyes were goblet-wide and staring at Renaer.

  "How many times have we led a rat-scamper through here and that never happened? And why now?"

  "Seven times, friend, all of them successful escapes," Renaer said. "As for them, they were guilty of hanging offenses. Consider it some justice against those who killed Faxhal."

  Renaer saw the slight path and kicked-over fence that allowed them to pass up and over a refuse heap. He nodded his approval and began climbi
ng out of Ravencourt while still talking to the group.

  "We must go back to Neverember Hall before too many folks question why I'm carrying someone. There's not many people about yet, but that'll change swiftly. Meloon, sling Elra and Vharem over your shoulders. That way, we're simply carrying our drunk friends home from their cups."

  Laraelra rolled her eyes and said, "I don't think so. I can stumble home, thanks."

  Meloon lashed his axe to his belt and then reached for her. "C'mon, Elra, it'll keep anyone from being suspicious."

  She smirked. "Vharem's looking awful, there, Meloon. Why don't you take one arm and I'll take the other? We can walk him home, since we're both taller than he is."

  Vharem laughed as he threw his arms over the shoulders of Meloon and Laraelra. "It's not as if this isn't closer to a typical end to a night with me and Ren!" As they walked away, Vharem muttered, "Gods speed you to rest, Faxhal, and may the guilty swim in razor-strewn dung for their afterlives."

  The late morning sun shone brightly through the windows at the far side of the room, though the windows facing Mendever Streer remained cloaked behind heavy curtains. In the shadows on the bed, a man loomed over Vajra's prone body, his hands glowing green and white. His voice was low and his prayers were barely audible over Renaer's own as he knelt to pray in the sunlight.

  "Valkur, speed his path, fill his sails, and calm his seas. Amaunator, light his way and warm his face. Tymora, grant him the luck to be at his reward before his misdeeds are counted in full. Kelemvor, judge him worthy to pass the veils. Gods above, grant my friend the happiness he found so rarely on Toril out among the stars."