“And Brambleberry’s men?”

“For tomorrow,” Deudermont replied.

“They may be gone by then,” Robillard said. The captain looked at him with surprise. “Oh, have you not heard?” the wizard asked. “Lord Brambleberry’s veteran and cultured warriors have had quite enough of this uncouth City of Sails and intend to head back to their own City of Splendors before the winter closes the boat lanes. I don’t know when they’ll go, but have heard some remark that the next favorable tide wouldn’t be soon enough.”

Deudermont sighed and dropped his head in his hand. “Offer them bonuses if they will remain through the winter,” he said.

“Bonuses?”

“Large ones—as much as we can afford.”

“I see. You will spend all our gold on your folly before you admit you were wrong.”

Deudermont’s head snapped up and around so he could glare at the wizard. “Our gold?”

“Yours, my captain,” Robillard said with a deep bow.

“I was not wrong,” said Deudermont. “Time is our ally.”

“You will need more tangible allies than that.”

“The Mirabarrans…” Deudermont said.

“They have closed their gates,” Robillard replied. “Our merchant friends from Mirabar suffered greatly when the Hosttower exploded. Many dwarves went straight to Moradin’s Halls. You’ll not see them on the wall with Luskan’s city guard anytime soon.”

Deudermont felt and looked old indeed at that moment of great trial. He sighed again and muttered, “The high captains…”

“You will need them,” Robillard agreed.

“We already have Suljack.”

“The one least respected by the other four, of course.”

“It’s a start!” Deudermont insisted.

“And the others will surely come along to our side, since you know some of them so well already,” Robillard said with mock enthusiasm.

Even Deudermont couldn’t help but chuckle at that quip. Oh yes, he knew them. He had sunk the ships of at least two of the remaining four beneath them.

“My crew has never let me down,” Deudermont said.

“Your crew fights pirates, not cities,” came the reminder, stealing any comfort the already beleaguered governor might have garnered from his last remark.

Even Robillard recognized the man’s despair and showed him some sympathy. “The remnants of the Hosttower….”

Deudermont looked at him curiously.

“Arabeth and the others,” Robillard explained. “I will put them in and around the crew in the market square, in their full Hosttower regalia.”

“There is great bitterness against those insignias,” Deudermont warned.

“A calculated risk,” the wizard admitted. “Surely there are many in Luskan who would see any and all members of the Hosttower destroyed, but surely, too, there are many who recognize the role that Arabeth played in securing the victory we achieved, however great the cost. I wouldn’t send her and her lessers out alone, to be sure, but among our crew, with your approval bolstering them, she and hers will serve us well.”

“You trust her?”

“No, but I trust in her judgment, and now she knows that her existence here is predicated on the victory of Captain…of GovernorDeudermont.”

Deudermont considered the reasoning for a moment then nodded his agreement. “Send for her.”

Arabeth Raurym left Deudermont’s palace later that same day, pulling her cloak tight against the driving rain. She padded down the puddle-filled street, sweeping up attendants from every corner and alley until the full contingent of eleven former Hosttower wizards marched as a group. It wouldn’t do for any of them to be out alone, with so many of Luskan’s folk nursing fresh wounds at the hands of their previous comrades. Not a person in Luskan spoke of the Hosttower of the Arcane with anything but venom, it seemed.

She gave her orders as they walked, and as soon as they linked up with Sea Sprite’s crew, just north of Illusk, Arabeth took her leave. She cast an enchantment upon herself, reducing her size, making her look like a small girl, and moved southeast into the city, heading straight for Ten Oaks.

To her relief, she was not recognized or bothered, and soon stood before the seated Kensidan, taking note that his newest—and reputedly strongest—bodyguard, that curious and annoying dwarf, was nowhere to be seen.

“Robillard understands the precarious perch upon which Deudermont stands,” she reported. “They will not be caught unawares.”

“How can they not understand when half the city is in conflict, or burning?”

“Blame Taerl and Baram,” Arabeth reminded him.

“Blame them, or credit them?”

“You wanted Deudermont as a figurehead, to give credibility and bona fides to Luskan,” the overwizard said.

“If Baram and Taerl decide to openly oppose Deudermont, all the better for those wise enough to pick up the pieces,” Kensidan replied. “Whichever side proves victorious.”

“You don’t sound like you hold any doubts.”

“I wouldn’t bet against the captain of Sea Sprite. Of course, the battleground has changed quite dramatically.”

“I wouldn’t bet against whichever side Ships Kurth and Rethnor join.”

“Join?” the son of Ship Rethnor asked.

Arabeth nodded, smiling as if she knew something Kensidan hadn’t yet deduced.

“You wish to remain neutral in this fight, and savor the opportunities,” Arabeth explained. “But one side—Deudermont’s, I predict—will not grow weaker in the conflict. Nay, he will strengthen his hand, and dangerously so.”

“I have considered that possibility.”

“And if you allow it, will Deudermont’s reign be any different than that of Arklem Greeth?”

“He isn’t a lich. That’s a start.”

Arabeth folded her arms over her chest at the snide comment.

“We will see how it plays out,” Kensidan said. “We will allow them—all three of them—their play, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my own.”

“Your shield guard is with Suljack?”

“I applaud your skill at deduction.”

“Good,” Arabeth said. “Taerl and Baram are not in good spirits toward Suljack, not after he sat behind Deudermont on the stage.”

“I didn’t think they would be, hence….”

“You put him there? Surely you knew that Baram would go out of his mind with rage at the thought of Deuder—” She paused and a smile widened across her fair face as she sorted it all out. “Kurth could threaten you, but you don’t think that likely—not, at least, until the rest of the city has sorted under the new hierarchy. With that confidence, the only threats to your gains would be Deudermont, who is now far too busy in simply trying to maintain some semblance of order, and an alliance of the lesser high captains, particularly Baram and Taerl, neither of whom have been fond of Ship Rethnor.”

“I’m sure that Kurth is as pleased as I am that Baram and Taerl have revealed such anger at Suljack, poor Suljack,” Kensidan remarked.

“You’ve been saying you intended to profit from the chaos,” Arabeth replied with obvious admiration. “I didn’t know that you meant to control that chaos.”

“If I did control it, it wouldn’t truly be chaos, now would it?”

“Herd it, then, if not control it.”

“I would be a sorry high captain if I didn’t work to ensure that the situation would lean in favor of my Ship.”

Arabeth assumed a pose that was as much one of seduction as of petulance, with one hand on a hip thrust forward and a wicked little grin on her face. “But you are not a high captain,” she said.

“Yes,” Kensidan replied, seeming distant and unmoved. “Let us make sure that everyone understands the truth of that statement. I’m just the son of Ship Rethnor.”

Arabeth stepped forward and knelt on the chair, straddling Kensidan’s legs. She put a hand on each of his shoulders and drove him back under her weight as she pressed forward.

“You’re going to rule Luskan even as you pretend that you don’t,” she whispered, and Kensidan didn’t respond, though his expression certainly didn’t disagree. “Kensidan the Pirate King.”