The guards laughed and nodded as they dragged the slave away.
On the dock, Kelemvor turned to Midnight. "Perhaps you could -"
The mage froze the fighter with her stare. "Even if I pretended to be a trollop, it would do no good. These men have been given
my description. They would see through the ruse in an instant."
"There's only one place the galley master can go that's close by, and the proprietor is a friend of mine," Varden said softly. "We
can take him when he gets there."
Kelemvor watched as the galley master, a short, strongly built man with a thick, black mustache, left the boat and approached
the lone watchman near the heroes.
"We should ambush him in the shadows and save ourselves the bother," Adon said quietly, lifting his war hammer slightly to
emphasize his words.
Adon's suggestion surprised Kelemvor. "I'll go along with that," the fighter said and smiled at the cleric. "But only if the
opportunity presents itself as we follow him to this establishment run by Varden's friend."
The heroes tried to follow the galley master, but the short man kept to streets that were heavily patrolled. Within a few minutes,
they had lost him.
"It doesn't matter," Varden muttered as the heroes hid in a darkened alley. "He went in the direction of the Fatted Calf Tavern,
just as I thought he would."
The thief knew a short cut, and the heroes were soon at the rear of the tavern, in a dark, dirty alley. "Wait here," Varden
whispered. The thief went around to the front of the tavern and vanished inside.
Five minutes later, the tavern's rear door opened, and Varden stood silhouetted in light, grinning from ear to ear. "Good evening
and welcome to the Fatted Calf," the thief announced proudly as he ushered the heroes inside. "May I take your order?"
Kelemvor allowed his allies to go in before him then he closed the door. The room they entered was very small and decorated
with beautiful, multicolored veils that were draped from various points in the wall and ceiling. The light in the room came from
lanterns, and shades of soft blue and red played across the heroes' features. A bed, a table, and a few chairs made up the
furnishings.
"The galley master's name is Otto," Varden noted. "My fiance will be bringing him in here any moment." He turned to Kelemvor,
who had hefted a small chair. "Do be careful not to hit the girl."
Midnight laughed." You're going to be married?"
Varden shrugged. "I had to keep telling this wench something to get her to go along with my wild schemes - like this one." He
paused and smiled. "Besides, her father owns the tavern. There's money in this family."
There was a sound at the door, and from his position next to the entrance, Kelemvor motioned for silence. The other heroes
crowded on the other side of the door, out of the line of view of anyone entering. The smell of bad liquor wafted into the room before
the galley master, and the sound of celebration came from the taproom as the door opened.
Otto, the galley master, stumbled into the room on the arm of a beautiful woman dressed in bright, golden robes, pulled tightly to
display her perfect figure. Her hair was the color of honey and matched her clothing. Bits of jewelry sparkled from her hands, neck,
and waist. Her features were stunning, and she had captured the attentions of the galley master completely.
Kelemvor grimaced. The woman was on his side of the door. But as she entered the room, Varden's fiance cried out, tripped,
and fell forward. The galley master bent instinctively, and Kelemvor crashed the chair over his head. Varden slammed the door shut
and locked it behind them.
"I want a ring, and I want a ceremony," the golden-haired woman told Varden. "None of this sneaking about in the middle of the
night and getting married in the Hall of Records. Do you understand me, Varden?"
The thief opened his mouth.
"Further, this thieving business is out of the question, You've never made enough at it to convince me it's a viable means of
earning a living. I thought you could apprentice with Daddy, then -"
"Shut up and kiss me," Varden said as he grabbed her waist and pulled the woman to him. Their lips met, and the kiss lasted
long enough for Kelemvor to drag Otto to the bed and set him on it.
Varden's fiance sighed. "I thought I was going to have to talk about our old age together before you got motivated to do that."
Varden smirked and turned to the heroes. "This is Liane."
The woman bowed slightly then looked to Otto. "What are you going to do with him?"
"The question is, my dear, 'what are we going to do with him.'" Varden said.
Adon watched the lovers in silence. There was a time, not very long ago, when he had played Varden's role: the lover, the fool.
Liane caught sight of the cleric and shuddered when she saw the scar that lined his face. Adon had grown used to the reaction, but a
slight shiver of pain ran up his spine. He turned away to open the door and check the alley.
Twenty minutes later, Varden and Liane stood on either side of the galley master as they dragged him back to his ship. The
lone watchman approached, and the galley master mumbled incoherently. The stink of the cheap wine wafted from the short man.
"Tipped back a few too many," Varden said, just loud enough for the heroes to hear him from their hiding place a few yards
away. The watchman laughed, made a few crude jokes, and gestured for the trio to move along.
"Say, you're a cute little thing," the grubby dock guard commented to Liane when he noticed the woman staring at him with a
wicked grin. "If you go on that ship, we'll never see you again. All the fine young men on board will never let you go!"
Liane sauntered to the watchman's side, leaving Varden to struggle with Otto. "What are my alternatives?" Liane asked as she
circled the guard. The man turned to follow Liane with his eyes, and when his back faced the ship's walkway, Kelemvor and the
others broke from the shadows and ran to help Varden with Otto. Liane threw her head back, ran her hands through her hair, and
slowly traced a path down the luscious, smooth skin of her neck, allowing her hands to come together and follow a straight line to the
sash at her waist.
The watchman sighed.
In moments, Varden and the heroes had Otto on board the Queen of the Night. Midnight, Kelemvor, and Adon hid as Varden
called out, "Fair lady, he's getting kind of heavy, and you're the prize he came ashore to find, not I, a humble serving boy!"
Kelemvor shook his head at the thief's overwrought performance.
At the walkway, Liane said farewell to the watchman and promised to look him up when she returned from the ship. The woman
tried to appear casual and unhurried as she made her way to the boat, although her hands were shaking the entire time.
The heroes dragged the galley master back through the shadows, then below deck, where the slaves waited. Bjorn the One-
Eyed sat at his station, mumbling curses. Suddenly the body of the galley master fell before the slave, and he nearly jumped out of
his seat. Kelemvor smiled at the slave and pulled back the flaps of the galley master's coat to reveal a huge set of keys tied to the
man's waist.
"That's a sight I'll wager you hadn't expected to see this night," Kelemvor noted softly as he tore the keys from the groaning
galley master and handed them to Bjorn.
"He was a cruel taskmaster," one of the slaves said from the shadows of the slave hold. "He'd beat us - whip us - for no
reason."
"No one escaped his punishment," another slave cried.
The tide of condemnations grew, but the shouts abruptly ended with the sharp, metallic click of Bjorn opening his chains. The
wildman stood up, a bit shaky on his feet at first, but proud and tall. In fact, the slave towered over the heroes.
Bjorn grabbed the galley master's hair and pulled the man up to look at him. "Remember the promise I made earlier this evening
about what I'd do with your arms and legs?" the wildman growled. The slave grabbed a metal clamp and locked it in place around
Otto's throat. "Keep thinking about it." Then the one-eyed man turned to face the heroes. "You've come to liberate us? What for?
What do you want in return?"
The fighter smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Safe passage to Tantras. Then the ship is yours," Kelemvor said.
Bjorn studied the fighter with his one good eye. A smile broke over his face, and he threw the set of keys to the next slave. "A
fair deal," Bjorn decided and looked to the army of slaves. "What about the rest of you?" There were cheers as the slaves were
unchained, one by one. Cries of allegiance to the new captain of the Queen of the Night, Bjorn the One-Eyed, filled the hold.
"How many of you men want to see the stars once again?" Bjorn asked. The slaves roared in approval.
Moments later, the sight of the minor skirmish taking place on the Queen of the Night between the freed slaves and the few
Zhentish sailors still on the ship did not escape the notice of the grubby watchman. As the Zhentish were pitched overboard, alarms
were sounded.
On the ship, Kelemvor watched as Adon clubbed a Zhentilar with his war hammer. The soldier was still alive, and the cleric was
about to strike again when Kelemvor raised his hand. "A few should be kept alive as hostages. Perhaps they'll have information we
can use!" Kelemvor ordered as he lowered the cleric's hand.
"We'd best secure the prisoners in the hold, then," the cleric noted. Looking at the harbor, Adon grimaced. The alarm had been
sounded, and a few soldiers raced in their direction.
"They're more observant than I would have wagered," Kelemvor yelled, then turned to Bjorn. "Do what you have to do. Just get
us out of here!"
The battle with the few Zhentilar that boarded the galley was very short. Despite their training and their superior weapons, the
Zhentilar could not compensate for the large numbers of slaves that waited for them onboard the ship.
When the fighting was over, Bjorn had ordered as many of the slaves as he could spare to take their stations at the oars. The
one-eyed man was now the galley master. The rhythmic sound of drums filled the night, and the Queen of the Night soon raised
anchor and pulled away from the dock.
Soon after they had left the harbor, Midnight rushed to Kelemvor's side. "Look there," Midnight cried, pointing back toward
Scarsdale.
Two of Bane's ships had left the dock in pursuit of the captured galley.
"Wonderful!" Bjorn cried out as he was informed of the news. "Those dogs have given us no choice. We turn and fight!"
In moments, the ship was alive with activity, and the Queen of the Night turned to intercept the closer of the Zhentish ships. The
catapults on the deck were filled with everything the men could get their hands on, including the Zhentish corpses that had not yet
been cast over the side.
From the cries of panic that sounded from the opposing ship as the Queen drew close, Kelemvor realized that the Zhentish
were hardly prepared for this type of battle. The majority of their crew was probably on shore leave, celebrating the fall of Scarsdale
with the crew of the Queen of the Night and the rest of Bane's forces.
"Ramming speed!" Bjorn cried, a maniacal glint in his one good eye.
The ships collided, and a hole was torn in the side of the pursuing Zhentish ship. The Queen of the Night withdrew, and the
second Zhentish ship moved in to pick up survivors as the Queen sailed out into the Dragon Reach. But before the galley could put a
hundred yards between it and the other Zhentish ship, there was a cry from the bridge. Kelemvor looked up and saw a horrible shape
floating in the air above the galley.
Kelemvor's mind seemed to freeze as he realized that Bane must have discovered his betrayal. Sejanus had escaped the suits
of animated armor and now sat astride his nightmare, ready to attack the galley. The assassin's bolos whirled in the air. The fighter
looked to the bow and saw Midnight about to throw a spell.
"Midnight, get out of the way!" Kelemvor cried, but he was too late. The bolos flew through the air. In seconds, the weapon
would wrap around Midnight's torso, and they would knock her over the edge of the ship, into the water. Sejanus would have his
prisoner at last.
Suddenly Varden appeared beside the mage and shoved her to the side. The bolos wrapped around the blond thief's neck, and
Midnight heard a sickening snap as her friend's neck broke. Varden fell over the side of the ship, already dead.
"No!" Midnight wailed in horror. Images of Cyric being swept away in the Ashaba flooded the mage's mind. She raised her
hands once more. Her fingers moved like quicksilver, and the incantation flew from her lips so quickly that it sounded like gibberish.
The assassin reigned in the nightmare and hovered in place for an instant, the extent of his error suddenly becoming clear. A
spiral of light leaped from Midnight's hands and struck the water below Sejanus. He was startled to find no ill effects from the spell.
Whatever incantation the mage had tried had gone awry. Ordering his mount to descend toward their prey, the assassin charged
toward the Queen of the Night.
But as Sejanus raced down through the air, the nightmare he rode slapping fiery hoofprints into the sky, a group of huge, black
tentacles burst from the dark green water next to the galley. Pulling a knife from his boot, the assassin looked down and saw the
horrible sight. Dozens of writhing, slimy limbs were rising up toward him, curling around the nightmare's legs.
This is only an illusion, Sejanus thought. These figments cannot harm me.
He was wrong.
The tentacles grabbed the assassin and his mount and carefully, methodically pulled them apart. When the last of the black
limbs sank back into the Dragon Reach, Midnight collapsed. The few small pieces of Sejanus's armor that had stayed afloat for a
