Tantras (17 page)

“Don’t wake him,” Adon said as he dragged the second dalesman to the brink of the bridge. The cleric stopped for a moment and looked around. “Not until I’ve finished. It’ll be… better that way.”

Midnight nodded, then pointed to the daggers that hung from the dalesman’s boots. “Take his weapons before you drop him into the river.”

Adon gasped, and a look of extreme shock gripped his features. “I will not steal from the dead,” the cleric snapped.

Midnight stood up and moved away from Kelemvor. “Take their weapons, Adon. We will have a greater need for them than the creatures that reside at the bottom of the river.”

The cleric did not move. He just stood over the dalesman’s body, his mouth hanging slightly open. Midnight went to the remaining bodies and gathered their weapons herself. After the mage stripped each man of his weapons, Adon pronounced a final blessing on them and dropped the corpses into the Ashaba. Although he did not know if his words would hold any true value in the realm beyond the living, Adon knew that he would regret it if he didn’t even attempt a blessing.

As the last of the dalesmen splashed into the river, Kelemvor began to stir.

“Midnight!” Adon called from the end of the bridge, pointing to the fighter. The beautiful, dark-haired magic-user returned to Kelemvor’s side and placed her hand on his sweat-covered face. Instantly the fighter’s eyes flew open and he grabbed Midnight’s hand.

Pain shot up the mage’s arm. “Kel!” Midnight cried and tried to wrench her arm from the fighter’s iron grip.

Kelemvor looked shocked for a moment, then recognition slowly filtered into the fighter’s flashing green eyes. He relaxed his grip slightly, although he did not release his hold on the mage.

“Midnight!” Kelemvor murmured, his lips trembling. “You’re alive!” The fighter’s grip loosened even more, and Midnight stopped struggling.

“Yes, Kel,” Midnight said softly. The mage looked into the fighter’s eyes and saw pain and confusion.

Kelemvor turned away from Midnight, squeezed his eyes shut, and brought her hand to his lips. “I made a terrible mistake. I almost hurt you.”

Adon approached the fighter’s side. Midnight smiled and looked up at the cleric but said nothing.

“Are they… dead?” Kelemvor asked, his face still turned away from Midnight, his eyes still closed. “Are they alI dead?”

“There were four bodies,” Adon said softly as he pulled the blanket over the fighter’s shoulders. “We saw two more men jump into the river during the battle.”

Kelemvor opened his eyes once more and gazed at the cleric. “Adon,” the fighter said softly. “You survived, too. And Cyric?”

Midnight shook her head. “He was lost in the river when the skiff capsized.”

Raising himself on one arm, Kelemvor ran his hand through Midnight’s hair. “I’m… sorry,” he said flatly. Midnight turned to look at the fighter, but he was already standing up, surveying the bridge. Kelemvor saw the splatters of blood, the weapons gathered in a pile, and his own armor. Nothing else.

“I’ll wager Yarbro escaped,” Kelemvor growled. “That one’ll be the death of us yet.”

“He was the first one off the bridge,” Adon mumbled as he handed the fighter a shirt Midnight had taken from the dalesmen’s camp. “I saw him leap off just as I got to shore.”

Kelemvor swore loudly. “He’ll either return to Essembra to gather reinforcements or ride on to Scardale to warn the town of our approach. Either way, it’ll mean trouble for us. The dalesmen wanted you, Cyric, and Adon dead, though Mourngrym ordered them to bring you back to the dale to receive your ‘just’ punishment.” Kelemvor paused and turned to Midnight. “Anyway, I’m sure that my name will now be added to the ranks of the guilty.”

The fighter paused as he continued to dress himself. When he was done, he reached out and took Midnight’s face in both of his hands. “Why did you leave me behind in Shadowdale?”

Midnight pulled away, anger suddenly overwhelming her. “Leave you! You turned Cyric down when he asked you to help rescue us!” The mage slapped the fighter’s hand away as he reached for her, then she moved to Adon’s side.

A bitter laugh escaped Kelemvor’s lips. “Just what did Cyric tell you?”

Midnight hesitated for a moment. Brushing the hair out of her face, she relived the pain she felt when she first heard Kelemvor’s words of betrayal. “That you ‘couldn’t interfere with justice’ “

Kelemvor nodded. “Cyric chose his words well, don’t you think? He knew you,” the fighter growled, turning away from his friends. “He knew just what to say to make you believe him.”

“He was lying?” Midnight gasped. “You never said that?”

“I said it before the trial,” the fighter mumbled and hung his head. “I thought you were going to be found innocent. If I’d have known, I would have found some way to help you escape.”

Adon shook his head. “What do you mean? Didn’t you know about Cyric’s plan?”

Kelemvor whirled around, anger flashing in his eves. “By all the souls in Myrkul’s Realm, what do you think I’m saying?” The fighter took a deep breath. “Cyric never told me about the escape. I found out the next day… when the bodies started to appear.”

Midnight and Adon looked at each other, shock in their eyes. “What bodies?” Midnight asked. A dark, creeping fear was moving across her soul. Even before Kelemvor told her about the murdered guardsmen, she knew that Cyric had not told her everything about his plan.

Kelemvor studied Midnight’s face for a reaction as he told her about the bloody trail of corpses he and Mourngrym had traced through the Twisted Tower. The fighter hoped that the mage would not be able to hide her guilt if confronted directly with the murders. As he told her of the crimes, the mage blanched, and her eyes revealed surprise and horror.

“I-I didn’t know,” Midnight stammered and looked again to Adon. The cleric was frowning deeply, and his eyes reflected the fury he felt.

Kelemvor sighed. They really are innocent; he thought to himself, relieved that for the first time in what seemed like years he had done something right, something good. “I know you didn’t, Midnight,” Kelemvor said at last. “But didn’t you even think it odd that you were able to escape so easily?”

“He told us he used the Gaeus Thorn,” Adon snapped. When Kelemvor looked puzzled, the cleric continued. “That’s a magical weapon of sorts. You strike someone with the thorn - a type of dart, really - and they do anything you tell them to do.” Kelemvor thought of the young guard who had impaled himself and shuddered.

“We assumed he had subdued the guards using the thorn.” Midnight folded her arms and hugged herself tightly. After a moment, she turned to the fighter. “Are you sure that it was Cyric? Could it have been someone else?”

Kelemvor shook his head. “We both know it was Cyric. Who else could it have been?”

“I… I don’t know,” Midnight sighed. “But it’s possible there was someone else, isn’t it? Another killer could have broken into the tower that night. He might have found the guards in a weakened state, or -“

The mage stopped speaking for a moment and took a deep breath. “Could one of the other guards have done it? Perhaps he wanted to cover up his own inattentiveness. Or maybe he wanted… I don’t know what he might have wanted…” Tears were welling in Midnight’s eyes.

Kelemvor reached out to take Midnight by the arm. The fighter drew her into his embrace and held the mage as her tears came. Suddenly she pulled back. “No,” Midnight said. “I won’t believe it!” Kelemvor put his hands on his hips. “Midnight, the facts are -“

“I don’t know what the facts are, and neither do you!” the raven-haired magic-user cried. “I refuse to condemn our friend the way the dalesmen condemned Adon and me for Elminster’s murder!”

Adon put his hand on the mage’s shoulder. “Midnight, you know he did it. He would have killed me, too, if you hadn’t stopped him.” The cleric turned to the fighter. “A sickness had taken hold of Cyric, Kel. It was as if he went mad,” Adon said flatly. He paused then and looked into the churning river. “Perhaps it’s better that he’s dead.”

Midnight slowly walked to the edge of the bridge. “No, Adon. Cyric would have been fine once we got to Tantras, once we had a chance to rest. He really was a good person, you know. He just never had the chance to prove it.”

Memories of all the evil he himself had done in the past, things the curse had forced him to do and things he had only blamed on the curse, flooded into Kelemvor’s mind. The fighter went to Midnight’s side and put his arms around her. “Perhaps he was afraid to do what’s right,” he said softly. “That same fear nearly prevented me from rescuing you.”

Looking into Midnight’s eyes, Kelemvor sighed and was forced to look away. “I was standing near the tower, waiting for daylight, waiting to see you again,” the fighter told her.” I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I suspected that once you were brought out, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from trying to help you, even if it cost me my life. I stood there waiting for the moment when I would learn what I was going to do.

“Then the bodies were discovered, and I let Mourngrym convince me that you were guilty, that you and Adon had killed Elminster and then the guards.” Adon whimpered softly at Kelemvor’s comments, and the fighter paused for a moment. “It was easier to believe them than to do what I knew was right.

“After I saw what the dalesmen really were, when your boat approached, I knew that I had to make a choice.” The fighter turned and looked at the bloodstains scattered about the bridge. “My reaction was as I thought it would be.”

“Then you believe we’re innocent?” Midnight asked softly.

“Aye,” Kelemvor whispered as he kissed Midnight full on the mouth. When the kiss had ended, Kelemvor noticed Adon crouching over the pile of weapons that had been appropriated from the bodies of the dead hunters. He suddenly looked tired, even withered. “What’s wrong with him?” Kelemvor asked.

Midnight told Kelemvor all that had transpired in the Temple of Lathander, but especially how Adon had tried to save Elminster from the rift. “With his scar and his failure at the temple, Adon’s certain that Sune has abandoned him,” the mage concluded. “It’s as if his whole world has been shattered.”

“He still should have said something at the trial to defend the two of you,” the fighter grumbled. “His silence helped to sway Mourngrym’s verdict.”

“Don’t hold it against him, Kel. I don’t,” Midnight said, smiling. “Besides, the trial is over now. And after you’re with Adon for a while, you’ll know that he’s paying the price for his silence at the trial… and much more.” The mage turned and walked toward Adon. As the fighter followed her, she added, “Cyric found it almost impossible to show him kindness or mercy. If I can forgive him, then you should be able to do the same.”

Kelemvor considered the magic-user’s words, then crouched at the other side of the pile of weapons, staring at the cleric. “Our survival depends on being able to count on one another, Adon. We will be wanted fugitives.”

“I know that,” Adon snapped. His gaze failed to meet Kelemvor’s. Instead, the cleric toyed with one of the dead men’s weapons.

“We’re going on to Tantras, Adon, but the dalesmen might try to capture us. They also may try to kill us. Will you pledge your life to help us?” Kelemvor asked.

“My life…,” Adon growled, his voice cracking. “For what it’s worth, yes, I’ll pledge my life for the two of you. Perhaps I can make up for what I have done.” The cleric reached down and picked up an axe. He gazed at the weapon for a moment, frowned, then tossed it aside. “I’ll find a way.”

“Thank you, Adon. We’ll need your help,” Midnight said and started to walk toward the dalesmen’s camp. Kelemvor quickly followed her. They could hear the sound of metal hitting metal as Adon picked up one weapon after another and tossed it back into the pile.

“The dalesmen hid their horses in the woods next to the camp. We should pick out a few mounts, pack up our supplies, and head toward Tantras while we still have a chance,” the fighter said.

Midnight stopped walking and turned to Kelemvor. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Kelemvor smiled and shook his head. “Your reward,” Midnight said flatly.

The fighter stiffened.

Gesturing at the blood stains on the bridge, Kelemvor spoke. “I’m a wanted criminal for aiding you and for killing the dalesmen. The curse only demands payment if I am not acting in my own best interest. Getting you to Tantras, where we may be able to hide from the long arm of the dale - or even recover the Tablet of Fate and magically clear us of all charges - is most definitely in my own interest. I don’t want a price on my head for the rest of my life, however long that may be. It’s no way to live.”

“I see,” Midnight said quietly.

Kelemvor frowned and closed his eyes. “That doesn’t change my feelings about you,” he murmured. “I have to look at things in those terms. Besides, it just simplifies matters.”

“Well,” Midnight sighed. “I suppose we should keep things simple.”

Kelemvor looked at her sharply, and for the first time he saw a trace of the wicked grin Midnight had so frequently displayed to him on their trip to Shadowdale. He laughed and placed his hand on her waist. “Come,” the fighter said, and they walked to the end of the bridge.

“Adon!” Midnight shouted. “We’re leaving.”

Footsteps sounded behind the mage and the fighter. Then they heard the clang of steel falling against steel and turned to see Adon gathering up the pile of weapons he had dropped.

“Hold it!” Kelemvor snapped. “Let’s just take what we need.” The fighter already wore his two-handed sword, but he grabbed an axe, a spare bow, and a cache of arrows to add to his arsenal. Midnight found a pair of daggers that suited her. Adon stared down at the collection, trying to find some weapon that was suitable. He was well trained with a war hammer and a flail, but sharp-edged weapons were frowned upon by his order. All the weapons that remained were edged.

“Take something and carry it for us,” Kelemvor said at last, his patience reaching its end. The heroes quickly left the end of the bridge and entered the forest. After a few minutes, Kelemvor had led his companions to the spot where the huntsmen had secured their mounts. The horses were gone.