Emerald Sceptre (22 page)

back to her seat, but she continued to glare at Lobra for a long time.

Once calm had been restored, Ariskrit turned to Pilos. “Do you think the other priests of the temple would be interested in hearing what our dear Lobra has to say?” she asked.

The Abreeant nodded. “I don’t think they’ll be too happy with their new Grand Syndar,” he said. “The Waukeenar are not in the business of starting wars for profit,” he said firmly.

“Then I think it’s time you went to them and told them what evidence we have,” Ariskrit said. “But you can’t go alone. You need some other folk who can help you convince them to listen.”

“Horial, Adyan, and Grolo should go, too,” Xaphira said. “I can’t imagine the clergy will be happy to hear that Lavant and Falagh tried to exterminate an entire company of their finest troops.”

Horial began shaking his head. “We promised Vambran we would look after you and Em,” he said. “We gave our word.”

Xaphira gave the mercenary a cold stare. “I was fighting in skirmishes before the two of you and Vambran were old enough to kiss the girls,” she said.- “Vambran means well, but Emriana and I can take care of ourselves. Now that we know exactly how widespread this whole horrible scheme is, House Matrell is not the only entity in danger. We need to make certain everyone in the city is aware of it. Lavant cannot be allowed to continue to rule the temple. You three are going with Pilos.”

Horial shrugged and said, “Yes, ma’am.” He cast a quick glance at Adyan, but the other sergeant was just grinning and shrugged back.

“I would go with them, too,” Edilus said, bringing

the room to absolute silence as everyone turned to look at the druid. “Though I did not intend to come here with the soldiers, I see that they have been honorable in their words to me, and I want to aid them.” He turned and looked directly at Horial. “And my debt to you for saving my life is over!” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

“Suits me just fine,” Horial said. “I think maybe it’s time for the temple to meet one of you druids, anyway. Might get a better idea of what you stand for, which to my way of thinking would be a good first step toward repairing relations with the Enclave.”

Edilus seemed surprised at the sergeant’s words, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“Then it’s settled,” Ariskrit said. “Pilos and the boys will go to the temple to expose Lavant for the liar that he is. And you,” she said, looking at Lobra again, “will remain our guest until the priests are ready to talk to you themselves.”

“Emriana and I are going back to our house,” Xaphira announced. “We have some unfinished business there.”

Ariskrit looked worried for a moment, but when she saw the determined look in both women’s eyes, she nodded. “I see by your expressions that you’re every bit as determined as Hetta always was, so I don’t think I could talk you out of it if I tried. Very well, then, I’ll just wish you good luck and offer you whatever I can from our House to aid you.”

Xaphira smiled and nodded her thanks.

The mercenaries wasted no time setting out with Pilos. At first, they considered taking a contingent of Darowdryn guards with them for additional force, but they decided it would draw the wrong kind of attention, suggesting that they intended to

be confrontational. Instead, they took advantage of Darowdryn coaches and rode through the city streets in relative obscurity. From time to time they spotted Generon guards about, but it didn’t look as if a concerted effort to track them down continued. After they rolled past the third such group without incident, Pilos began to relax.

The coaches made their way through the crowded streets and reached the temple complex by early afternoon. They rode right up to the front entrance, and Pilos and the others climbed down, ready to stride right into the middle of the council chambers and declare Lavant a traitor to the Waukeenar. The temple was bustling with activity as they entered, but more than a few clerics stopped dead in their tracks as Pilos and the others passed.

At first, the Abreeant thought it was simply because Edilus was with them, but as they approached the council chambers, he began to realize that temple guards were everywhere, watching them. They reached the door and prepared to go inside, but one of the guards stepped in their path, barring them entry.

“By order of the Grand Syndar and the entire high council,” the guard said, “you are all under arrest for crimes against the temple and the city.”

• • •

Arbeenok was waiting, about as agitated and impatient as Vambran ever remembered seeing the alaghi, by the time he and Serille returned from their swim. As the mercenary climbed out of the water, the druid paced back and forth.

“I had a new vision,” Arbeenok said, cocking his

head to one side and looking at Vambran quizzically once he realized that the lieutenant sported aquatic features.

Vambran held up the necklace as he shook the water from his body. “They have one for you, too,” he said, gesturing back at SeriIle, who had emerged with him from the water and was moving to speak with other sea elves. “So what did your vision reveal?” he asked. It seemed to Vambran that some of SeriHe’s companions who had been sent to consult with the elders had returned. He wasn’t sure by faces, but there seemed to be more figures in the room than before.

“There is a great chamber, a hall of some sort,” Arbeenok said, “and many people are in the chamber, a gathering, an official ceremony. And everything has a green tinge to it.”

“Green? Is it a trick of the light? Is this place underwater?” Vambran asked. He considered putting his clothes back on, but didn’t really see the point. If we’re going swimming again once we know something, he told himself, why bother?

“No,” Arbeenok said in answer. “I think this must have happened a long time ago, before the city was washed away by the tidal wave.”

“But green is significant,” Vambran said. “Maybe we’re looking for something green.”

“That is quite likely,” Serille said, returning to the pair after an extended conversation with her kin. “We believe we may have uncovered information about this magic you seek.” She entwined her hand into Vambran’s as she explained. “Many hundreds of years ago, in the Year of the Stricken, right before the cataclysm that destroyed the human kingdom on the surface, our landed brethren of the forests came

to visit the leader of your people, in a city known as Naarkolyth.”

Vambran started to explain to Serille that they were not his people. Though he had little knowledge of the history of Jhaamdath, what bits he did know suggested that they had been introverted and decadent, suspicious of all outsiders. He held his tongue, though, figuring it wasn’t germane to the story.

“One of the things they brought with them was an item of powerful healing. We believe this is what you seek.”

“I don’t suppose you know where the remains of this Naarkolyth are, do you?” he asked.

Serille adopted a serious mien. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. “But it is well hidden, hard to reach, and in dangerous waters.”

“Perfect,” Vambran said. “Just what I wanted to hear. What do we need to do now?”

“We are prepared to guide you to the remains of the city,” the sea elf answered. “And a few among us are willing to accompany you into its depths. We have gathered provisions for this trip, and by Deep Sashelas’s will, we will find your magic and help you save your people.”

Vambran nodded his head. “Then let’s get going,” he said, “the plague is undoubtedly spreading above. And you can tell me more of this history along the way.”

Serille smiled and nodded.

Along with Arbeenok, Vambran, and Serille, ten more sea elves began the journey to Naarkolyth. Serille led them out of the cave and into the depths of the Reach. They traveled along the slope of the continental shelf, rather than descending deeper into the water, for the elves had explained that they

would encounter fewer enemies at a shallower depth, and they would wait until the last possible moment before turning and dropping into the murk.

As before, Vambran found the travel exhilarating, because he had the freedom to swim himself rather than relying on Arbeenok to tow him. He worried that he would miss his armor, but since none of the elves in the group wore any, he decided to trust his instincts and learn their ways and culture as best as he could.

Arbeenok did not seem quite as exuberant about swimming as the lieutenant did, and Vambran imagined that being able to transform into a multitude of animals would make the druid less amazed by such new experiences. Still, the alaghi took the opportunity to observe the many wonders of the sea, pointing out flashing schools of fish darting back and forth, great spreads of coral covering the sea floor, and an amazing variety of kelp and other aquatic plants, all of which provided the swimmers with a spectacular vista. They passed the occasional shipwreck, too, in various stages of decay. Vambran pondered the fates of the sailors who had been on board those vessels, wondering how Lady’s Favor might look at the moment, sitting in the sandy bottoms where she went down.

His thoughts were interrupted as Serille began to relate some of the history of Naarkolyth. “The elves of the forests and the people of the coastal lands did not agree on a great many things, but in the Year of the Stricken, as I mentioned, they made a last effort at peace. The elves brought with them many gifts, tributes that they hoped would create a bond, a friendship between themselves and the humans of the Cities of the Twelve Swords. Among those gifts,

apparently, was a scepter. Though the portions of our histories that describe this scepter in greater detail are lost, what does remain tells of a beautiful natural object, woven of plants and other items of the land. The histories claim that this scepter was powerfully enchanted to bring health to the citizens of the cities.”

“And this is the object we seek?” Vambran asked. He felt skeptical. Who’s to say this is the right item and not something else, something lost even to the annals of history? he wondered.

Serille shrugged. “It is the only reference to anything with the power to heal that we know of,” she said. “If that is not the magic you seek, then why would the Dolphin Lord bring us together?”

Why, indeed, Vambran thought, remembering his swim with the girl earlier.

“I believe the item she describes is the one we are looking for,” Arbeenok said, swimming beside the two of them. “I cannot explain it with clarity, but everything she described feels right with my own intuitions.”

“Well, even if it is the right one,” Vambran said, feeling a sense of gloom wash over him, “we don’t have - any idea where it is now. A leader of the city could have taken it home with him, could have placed it in some vault somewhere, or it could have shattered during use,” he continued. “Jhaamdath stretched all along the coast, just as Chondath does now. Without some sense of reference, that fable doesn’t give us much.”

“Oh, the histories tell more,” Serille said, her smile bright. “The elves chronicled their visit in detail, for they wanted history to understand why the cataclysm came to be. The elves gathered in the

midst of Naarkolyth, the largest of the twelve cities, in a great palace, and met with the king. He accepted the gifts the elves had brought and sent them away, promising better relations, but they were empty words, as we now know. The elves believed that the king, fearing a trick, had the gifts sealed away in a vault beneath the same audience chamber where they had been bestowed. He never once took them out and put them to use. Two years later, after more bickering and slaughter, Jhaamdath was wiped from the face of Toril.”

“So we know it’s in the center of the city of Naarkolyth,” Vambran said, imagining what it must have been like in those final hours, as an immense tidal wave scoured the coastline clean. Turning to Arbeenok, the lieutenant asked, “Do you suppose this great palace chamber is the same as in your vision?”

The druid nodded. “I believe so.”

“Then you’ll know we’re there when we actually get there,” the mercenary quipped.

After her tale-spinning, Serille took the opportunity to play, cavorting around Vambran, sneaking up beneath or behind him and tickling him when he wasn’t expecting it. The lieutenant took some delight in her affections and tried to chase her down once or twice, but she was a far better swimmer than he and easily evaded his lunges. At one point, after she had come at the mercenary officer from above and wrapped her hands across his eyes as if to play guess-who, Vambran noticed one of the male elves scowling at him. As soon as Vambran returned the look, though, the sea elf turned away and swam out a little distance, as though watching for trouble.

I’ve seen that kind of scowl before, the lieutenant

thought, rolling his eyes. He swam over to Serille and said pointedly, “A couple of your companions are acting a little possessive of you, and don’t seem to like our carrying on. Is there something I should know?”

Serille’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit, but Vambran wasn’t certain whether her irritation was directed at him and his blunt question or at the other sea elf’s resentment. She asked, “Which one?” in a very serious and somewhat icy tone. When Vambran pointed out the fellow, the girl swam directly over to him and began a rather one-sided conversation, with quite a bit of gesticulating to accompany it. On more than one occasion, the male turned to look at Vambran, but Serille quickly dragged his attention back to her. When the discussion was finished, she swam back to the lieutenant and said, “That’s Ishuliga. He doesn’t think I should be consorting with surface dwellers. I changed his mind, and he shouldn’t be a problem any more.” Then she swam away, toward the front of the procession, apparently no longer in a playful mood.

Vambran considered swimming over to Ishuliga himself, to try to settle things in a more comfortable manner, but he decided against it, at least for the time’ being. If a better opportunity arises, then I might, he decided. With that decision, the mercenary forgot about the matter and returned his attention to the journey at hand.

The sea elves and their visitors traveled for several hours before they arrived at a spot overlooking a region of rough and rocky terrain. Vambran studied it and noted that the contrast between that area and the rest of the seabed seemed remarkable. The idea occurred to him that perhaps it was debris from the great tidal wave. He wondered if certain parts of the