Entreri. An alliance between those two, perhaps even a pact excluding
Dendybar and the Hosttower altogether, would at the least put him out, and
more probably spell his end.
"Suren the nature of their dark business works against them,"
Catti-brie whispered as Sydney and Entreri left the camp, speaking the
words aloud to reinforce her growing confidence.
"I could help ye with that," she offered to Jierdan as-he worked to
complete the campsite.
The soldier glared at her. "Help?" he scoffed. "I should make you do
all of it by yourself."
"Yer anger is known to me," Catti-brie countered sympathetically. "I
meself have suffered at Entreri's foul hands."
Her pity enraged the proud soldier. He rushed at her threateningly, but
she held her composure and did not flinch. "This work is below yer
station."
Jierdan stopped suddenly, his anger diffused by his intrigue at the
compliment. An obvious ploy, but to Jierdan's wounded ego, the young
woman's respect came as too welcome to be ignored.
"What could you know of my station?" he asked.
"I know ye are a soldier of Luskan," Catti-brie replied. "Of a group
that's feared throughout all the northland. Ye should not do the grovel
work while the mage and the shadow-chaser are off playing in the night."
"You're making trouble!" Jierdan growled, but he paused to consider the
point. "You set the camp," he ordered at length, regaining a measure of his
own selfrespect by displaying his superiority over her. Catti-brie didn't
mind, though. She went about the work at once, playing her subservient role
without complaint. A plan began to take definite shape in her mind now, and
this phase demanded that she make an ally among her enemies, or at least
put herself in a position to plant the seeds of jealousy in Jierdan's mind.
She listened, satisfied, as the soldier moved away, muttering under his
breath.
Before Entreri and Sydney even got close enough for a good view of the
encampment, ritualistic chanting told them that this was no caravan from
Nesme. They inched in more cautiously to confirm their suspicions.
Long-haired barbarians, dark and tall, and dressed in ceremonial
feathered garb, danced a circle around a wooden griffon totem.
"Uthgardt," Sydney explained. "The Griffon tribe. We are near to
Shining White, their ancestral mound." She edged away from the glow of the
camp. "Come," she whispered. "We will learn nothing of value here."
Entreri followed her back toward their own campsite. "Should we ride
now?" he asked when they were safely away. "Gain more distance from the
barbarians?"
"Unnecessary," Sydney replied. "The Uthgardt will dance the night
through. All the tribe partakes of the ritual; I doubt that they even have
sentries posted."
"You know much about them," the assassin remarked in an accusing tone,
a hint to his sudden suspicions that there might be some ulterior plot
controlling the events around them.
"I prepared myself for this journey," Sydney countered. "The Uthgardt
keep few secrets; their ways are generally known and documented. Travelers
in the northland would do well to understand these people."
"I am fortunate to have such a learned road companion," Entreri said,
bowing in sarcastic apology.
Sydney, her eyes straight ahead, did not respond.
But Entreri would not let the conversation die so easily. There was
method in his leading line of suspicions. He had consciously chosen this
time to play out his hand and reveal his distrust even before they had
learned the nature of the encampment. For the first time the two were
alone, without Catti-brie or Jierdan to complicate the confrontation, and
Entreri meant to put an end to his concerns, or put an end to the mage.
"When am I to die?" he asked bluntly.
Sydney didn't miss a step. "When the fates decree it, as with us all."
"Let me ask the question a different way," Entreri continued, grabbing
her by the arm and turning her to face him. "When are you instructed to try
to kill me?"
"Why else would Dendybar have sent the golem?" Entreri reasoned. "The
wizard puts no store in pacts and honor. He does what he must to accomplish
his goals in the most expedient way, and then eliminates those he no longer
needs. When my value to you is ended, I am to be slain. A task you may find
more difficult than you presume."
"You are perceptive," Sydney replied coolly. "You have judged
Dendybar's character well. He would have killed you simply to avoid any
possible complications. But you have not considered my own role in this. On
my insistence, Dendybar put the decision of your fate into my hands." She
paused a moment to let Entreri weigh her words. He could easily kill her
right now, they both knew that, so the candor of her calm admission of a
plot to murder him halted any immediate actions and forced him to hear her
out.
"I am convinced that we seek different ends to our confrontation with
the dwarf's party," Sydney explained, "and thus I have no intention of
destroying a present, and potentially future, ally."
In spite of his ever-suspicious nature, Entreri fully understood the
logic in her line of reasoning. He recognized many of his own
characteristics in Sydney. Ruthless, she let nothing get in the way of her
chosen path, but she did not stray from that path for any diversion, no
matter how strong her feelings. He released her arm. "But the golem travels
with us," he said absently, turning into the empty night. "Does Dendybar
believe that we will need it to defeat the dwarf and his companions?"
"My master leaves little to chance," Sydney answered. "Bok was sent to
seal Dendybar's claim on that which he desires. Protection against
unexpected trouble from the companions. And against you."
Entreri carried her line of thinking a step farther. "The object the
wizard desires must be powerful indeed," he reasoned.
Sydney nodded.
"Tempting for a younger mage, perhaps."
"What do you imply?" Sydney demanded, angry that Entreri would question
her loyalty to Dendybar.
The assassin's assured smile made her squirm uncomfortably. "The
golem's purpose is to protect Dendybar against unexpected trouble . . .
from you."
Sydney stammered but could not find the words to reply. She hadn't
considered that possibility. She tried logically to dismiss Entreri's
outlandish conclusion, but the assassin's next remark clouded her ability
to think.
"Simply to avoid any possible complications," he said grimly, echoing
her earlier words.
The logic of his assumptions slapped her in the face. How could she
think herself above Dendybar's malicious plotting? The revelation sent
shivers through her, but she had no intention of searching for the answer
with Entreri standing next to her. "We must trust in each other," she said
to him. "We must understand that we both benefit from the alliance, and
that it costs neither of us anything."
"Send the golem away then," Entreri replied.
An alarm went off in Sydney's mind. Was Entreri trying to instill doubt
in her merely to gain an advantage in their relationship?
"We do not need the thing," he said. "We have the girl. And even if the
companions refuse our demands, we have the strength to take what we want."
He returned the mage's suspicious look. "You speak of trust?"
Sydney did not reply, and started again for their camp. Perhaps she
should send Bok away. The act would satisfy Entreri's doubts about her,
though it certainly would give him the upper hand against her if any
trouble did come to pass. But dismissing the golem might also answer some
of the even more disturbing questions that weighed upon her, the questions
about Dendybar.
The next day was the quietest, and the most productive, of the ride.
Sydney fought with her turmoil about the reasons for the golem's presence.
She had come to the conclusion that she should send Bok away, if for no
better reason than to prove to herself her master's trust.
Entreri watched the telltale signs of her struggle with interest,
knowing that he had weakened the bond between Sydney and Dendybar enough to
strengthen his own position with the young mage. Now he simply had to wait
and watch for his next chance to realign his companions.
Likewise, Catti-brie kept her eye out for more opportunities to
cultivate the seeds she had planted in Jierdan's thoughts. The snarls that
she saw the soldier hide from Entreri, and from Sydney, told her that her
plan was off to a grand start.
They made Silverymoon shortly after noon on the following day. If
Entreri had any doubts left about his decision to join the Hosttower's
party, they were dismissed when he considered the enormity of their
accomplishment. With the tireless magical steeds, they had covered nearly
five hundred miles in four days. And in the effortless ride, the absolute
ease in guiding their mounts, they were hardly worn when they arrived in
the foothills of the mountains just west of the enchanted city.
"The river Rauvin," Jierdan, at the front of the party, called back to
them. "And a guard post."
"Pass it by," Entreri replied.
"No," Sydney said. "These are the guides across the Moonbridge. They
will let us pass, and their aid will make our journey into the city much
easier."
Entreri looked back to Bok, lumbering up the trail behind them. "All of
us?" he asked incredulously.
Sydney hadn't forgotten the golem. "Bok," she said when the golem had
caught up to them, "you are no longer needed. Return to Dendybar and tell
him that all goes well."
Catti-brie's eyes lit up at the thought of sending the monster back,
and Jierdan, startled, looked back with growing anxiety. Watching him,
Catti-brie saw another advantage to this unexpected turn. By dismissing the
golem, Sydney gave more credence to the fears of an alliance between Sydney
and Entreri that Catti-brie had planted upon the soldier.
The golem did not move.
"I said go!" Sydney demanded. She saw Entreri's unsurprised stare from
the corner of her eye. "Damn you," she whispered to herself. Still, Bok did
not move.
"You are indeed perceptive," she snarled at Entreri.
"Remain here, then," she hissed at the golem. "We shall stay in the
city for several days." She slipped down from her seat and stomped away,
humbled by the assassin's wry smile at her back.
"What of the mounts?" Jierdan asked.
"They were created to get us to Silverymoon, no more," Sydney replied,
and even as the four walked away down the path, the shimmering lights that
were the horses faded into a soft blue glow, then were gone altogether.
They had little trouble getting through the guard post, especially when
Sydney identified herself as a representative of the Hosttower of the
Arcane. Unlike most cities in the hostile northland, bordering on paranoia
in their fears of outsiders, Silverymoon did not keep itself hemmed within
foreboding walls and lines of wary soldiers. The people of this city looked
upon visitors. as an enhancement to their culture, not as a threat to their
way of life.
One of the Knights of Silver, the guardsmen at the post on the Rauvin,
led the four travelers to the entrance of the Moonbridge, an arcing,
invisible structure that spanned the river before the maul gate of the
city. The strangers crossed tentatively, uncomfortable for the lack of
visible material under their feet. But soon enough they found themselves
strolling down the meandering roadways of the magical city. Their pace
unconsciously slowed, caught under the infectious laziness, the relaxed,
contemplative atmosphere that dissipated even Entreri's narrow-visioned
intensity.
Tall, twisting towers and strangely shaped structures greeted them at
every turn. No single architectural style dominated Silverymoon, unless it
was the freedom of a builder to exercise his or her personal creativity
without fear of judgement or scorn. The result was a city of endless
splendors, not rich in counted treasures, as were Waterdeep and Mirabar,
its two mightiest neighbors, but unrivaled in aesthetic beauty. A throwback
to the earliest days of the Realms, when elves and dwarves and humans had
enough room to roam under the sun and stars without fear of crossing some
invisible borderline of a hostile kingdom, Silverymoon existed in open
defiance of the conquerors and tyrants of the world, a place where no one
held claim over another.
People of all the good races walked freely here and without fear, down
every road and alleyway on the darkest of nights, and if the travelers
passed by someone and were not greeted with a welcoming word, it was only
because the person was too profoundly engaged in meditative contemplation.
"The dwarf's party, is less than a week out of Longsaddle," Sydney
mentioned as they moved through the city. "We may have several days of
wait."
"Where do we go?" Entreri asked, feeling out of place. The values that
obviously took precedence in Silverymoon were unlike those of any city he
had ever encountered, and were completely foreign to his own perceptions of
the greedy, lusting world.
"Countless inns line the streets," Sydney answered. "Guests are
plentiful here, and are welcomed openly."
