Treachery's wake

13

Newcoast bustled with activity as Lidda moved through the streets toward the Bung and Blade. She passed the rows of ships at harbor and the wharves that lined the waterfront. Stout and long merchant vessels rocked gently in their berths as workers unloaded cargo using a simple system of pulleys and booms. Many more ships had left the previous day, taking advantage of the mild weather, hoping to make it to the next port before another storm hit. A few more arrived in the port earlier that morning, setting the docks in motion.

From the gnolls' camp, they reached the city in three days by traveling hard. They headed south, straight through the forest. Low clouds followed them for most of the trip, hovering just above the tops of the trees. The weather followed them right into town. The air was thick and damp everywhere, inside and out, though it didn't rain. At least the blanket of haze brought relief from the bitter cold. The trip had been thankfully free from serious pursuit and uneventful.

Merchants' carts lined the streets and people of every description jostled amongst them, haggling over prices and quality. Lidda stopped to admire the assortment of daggers that one man was selling, with her eyes on a set of jeweled throwing blades. She waved the peddler off and moved down the row of vendors. She had no idea what use one would have for such weapons, but when she returned to the guild the next morning, shed walk away with enough gold to buy all of them and more, if she had the mind to. She walked into the pub and found her friends sitting at a table in the rear.

"I've set a meeting with Flint and Wotherwill for tomorrow morning," she said, grinning from ear to ear. She put her elbow into Krusk's ribs. "You'll get your payment yet, and you got your fight."

Krusk grunted.

"Malthooz has been at him again," Vadania explained.

Lidda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"I'm going to leave after we get paid," he said. "At least Krusk thinks I did enough to earn my share."

Lidda smiled at the half-orc and said, "You saved my hide."

"Still playing with that thing?" Lidda asked, seeing Malthooz's trinket on the table in front of him.

Vadania grabbed the symbol from the table.

"I think I've talked him into learning more," she said. "We all saw what he did to my wounds."

Malthooz looked down at the table.

Lidda was going to miss the half-orc. She'd grown fond of him, as had the other women. He was awkward and too modest, but the rogue liked him. She grabbed his hand.

"You know you're always welcome, anywhere you can find us. That goes for this oaf, too." She elbowed Krusk again. "Speaking of oafs-you still got the staff?"

Krusk set his hand on the bench beside him.

"It's not leaving my sight until you take it back to the old man," he said. "I won't trust him or the thieves guild until I've got some gold in my hand and twenty miles between me and this city."

Lidda left early the next morning, leaving the rest of the company at the inn. She carried the box containing the staff under her arm, wrapped in cloth to avoid drawing attention.

Krusk thought it made no sense that the gnolls were acting alone, and he found it hard to believe that the creatures just stumbled upon the ship while they had a giant in tow. He'd been griping about it all night, weaving his inborn skepticism into a web of conspiracy and deceit.

Lidda had to admit that they never got much of a story from Wotherwill, and what they did hear they'd accepted almost entirely without questioning. She wasn't too worried about the half-orc's suspicions, though. The way she saw it, the staff had probably been in the hands of the gnolls to begin with and the creatures had simply been reclaiming it. Either way, the business would be done soon, or at least her part would be. She couldn't care less where the thing came from. She'd feel no regret for taking it from the gnolls even if it was theirs. The weight of the container felt good under her arm as she tried to calculate the staff's weight in gold. Krusk's worries were over nothing.

She rounded a corner and moved onto the lane that ran behind the guild. It was wider than most of the alleyways in the city but wasn't' quite a street. There were a number of small windows in the wall, and the detailed trim motif on the front of the building continued around through the rear. A few boarded-up doorways lined the other side of the alley.

Lidda felt along the wall, searching for the small catch that would open a panel in the surface. Flint had told her about the alternate entrance the previous afternoon. Lidda took it as yet another sign that she was gaining the guild master's favor. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching then slid open a concealed door.

After stepping quickly into a small passageway, Lidda pushed the wall closed behind her. The short, dark, narrow hallway inside the wall ended a dozen paces ahead. She guessed that her entrance was being watched.

At the far wall, she rapped the way Flint had indicated. A moment later a second panel slid open and the rogue found herself facing the doorman she met on her first visit. He nodded at the halfling, then his eyes shifted to the bulk under her arm. He turned without a word and led her through the complex to the guild master's chamber.

Eva Flint was seated behind her desk. She smiled as the rogue entered the room. Wotherwill sat at a chair at her side, fidgeting with the hem of his robes. Lidda walked boldly into the room and set the bundle in front of them. The old wizard held the key in his hand, rubbing the top of the dragon's head with his long fingers.

Wotherwill leaned forward in his chair. A hunger came over his eyes as he reached for the box.

"Ah," he sighed, "a lifetime of work reaches its climax. This treasure cost me two wives and the loss of my only child." He lifted the box from the desktop. "Grievous losses each, in their own way, but this," he said, running a bony finger along its surface, "makes them bearable."

He reached a shaky hand toward the clasp on the front of the box. The black figurine of the dragon shifted as it was brought close to the lock. Minute, ebony wings unfolded as though the creature was about to take flight. The statue's slender neck extended to meet the clasp. Shifting silvery lines animated themselves on the surface of the wood as if the two artifacts longed for each other.

Wotherwill inserted the key into an opening in the front of the wooden box. The dancing patterns on the surface of the container suddenly stopped their illusionary movement, aligning themselves into a geometric grid. With a click, the lid of the chest sprang open.

A soft glow from the interior of the box fell across the wizard's face and he lifted the staff from within. The artifact was magnificent, beyond anything Lidda had ever seen. Even without magical properties, the item would have been priceless. A thin wire of gold was sunk into the shaft, winding its way up the staff to the crown, where it flowered into a blossom of diamonds and opals. The staff grew as Wotherwill lifted it free of its confines until it was twice its original length. The top of the thing radiated a diffused, green glow.

Eva Flint rose from her seat and said, "You seem pleased, wizard,"

"Quite, m'lady. Quite pleased indeed." Wotherwill's gaze didn't stray from the staff as he nodded. He ran a hand down the length of the shaft. "Quite pleased indeed."

He lowered the staff back toward the box. As it neared the container, the staff shrank to accommodate its housing. Wotherwill reached for a sack that lay on the floor near his chair.

"You will find the agreed upon amount inside," he said, handing the pouch to Lidda, "plus a little extra for your troubles. Lady Flint told me of the bandits."

Lidda opened the sack and peered inside. A mound of gold with a few modest-sized gems mixed in rested at the bottom.

"I trust there's no need to count this here," she said, casting Flint a glance as she sealed the bag, "and that the guild has already seen its cut?"

Flint nodded.

"Then it is settled," Wotherwill said, bowing to each of the women. "I'll take my leave now."

Flint summoned the doorman, and the wizard was shown from the chamber. Lidda hesitated a moment, unsure how to proceed. She turned to leave.

"I guess I'll be going, too," she said, moving for the door.

"Wait one minute," Flint commanded, taking her seat. "I'd like to hear more about these bandits." The final word rang thick with sarcasm. "I like to keep tabs on those who might try to move in on my territory."

"Just a band of gnolls, as far as I could tell," Lidda said. "They had a two-headed giant with them, but I suppose that's not too strange. It's not with them anymore."

"Not strange at all," Flint said. "I've been dealing with them for a few months now." She leaned back in her chair. "The cretins are trying to muscle in on my shipping interests."

The guild master summoned the doorman and had Lidda shown to the door. Lidda turned to bow to Flint as she left, thinking it would only get her wedged even more deeply into the woman's good graces. As she raised her eyes from the floor, she caught the quick flash of Flint's hands, the subtle movement of her fingers.

Good work, she signalled, I'll be in touch.

Eva Flint pushed her chair back, tipping it up on two legs and setting her boots on the desk. She slid a dagger from under the seat and was carelessly running her finger along the blade as Yauktul was shown into the room. She motioned the commander to a seat with a flick of the blade. The gnoll looked nervously over his shoulders, at both Flint and the departing doorman, as he moved across the room. When the door clicked behind the doorman, Yauktul fell to his knees.

"It was not my fault," he whimpered.

Eva looked at the creature with disgust.

"Get up," she said. "Your presence repulses me, so I would keep this short."

The chair slammed back to the ground as the guild master lunged forward and slammed her blade into the desk. Yauktul yelped and drew back, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room.

Eva got up from her seat and moved around the front of the desk. Yauktul cringed as she brought her hand down on his head to stroke the crest of hair that crowned it. She cooed to the creature as she petted him.

"Yauktul, Yauktul," she tisked.

She grabbed a handful of fur and yanked. The commander's neck snapped back as his eyes were brought into line with hers.

"You failed me," she said, pulling harder on the creature's fur, craning his neck farther.

Yauktul whimpered and Eva let go. The gnoll commander's eyes fell back to the floor. She scrubbed the front of her breeches to wipe the gnoll's musky scent off her hand.

Pitiful, she thought, that such a being would be considered a leader among its own kind.

It had a small aptitude for the art of magic, and she'd interpreted that as a sign of intelligence. She never should have trusted the damned thing, but she had too much time, gold, and effort invested in this undertaking to watch the treasure slip from her grasp. She had to make one last effort.

"You can still make it up to me," Flint said, stroking the gnoll's head again.

The guild master walked back to her desk and leaned against it.

"You," she said, turning back to Yauktul, "know what you have to do."

She lifted the dagger from the desk and hurled it to the floor near the gnoll's clawed foot. Yauktul jumped back when the tip of the blade struck and clattered across the stone floor.

"This time, failure is not an option if you value your life. Now get out of my sight."

The gnoll rushed to the door and disappeared into the hallway. Eva returned to her seat. She lowered herself into the chair slowly, calmly, then slammed her fist on the desk. It would be impossible to keep the city's officials away from this. Wotherwill only pretended to be a hermit, she knew. He was well connected within the circles of the city's gentry. His political ties alone outweighed the worth of the staff in her estimation, and they made him more dangerous than his magic, which was considerable. There had always been risk, but more was at stake. Too much more to even consider backing out. Whatever Wotherwill's connections and power, her chief clients were wealthier and better connected than he would ever be. Eva smiled to herself. The rogue and her companions would prove to be of use yet.

It was a pity, she mused. She was starting to like the halfling.