Fourteen

Caledan woke to the sound of a scream. It was a terrible, wordless cry of primal rage.

He leaped from the bed and stared at the scene before him. Tyveris was grappling with the Harper. She struggled furiously, trying to stab Tyveris with her dagger, but the loremaster held her tightly. Again Mari cried out in fury.

"By the gods, Tyveris, what is going on?" Caledan shouted. The others had risen now and were also staring at the strange scene in astonishment. Then Morhion spoke a word of magic, and the room was suddenly flooded with silvery light.

The big loremaster shook his head. "I was hoping someone could tell me, Caledan. I went to wake Ferret for the next watch and saw that Mari's bed was empty. When came in here, I found her ready to bury this knife in your heart. I caught her hand just in time." Caledan shook his head disbelievingly, his mind reeling… The Harper had meant to kill him?

"But Mari would never do such a thing," Estah said, the halfling's voice trembling.

"Wait," Morhion said. "Can you not see it in her eyes?"

Indeed the Harper's eyes were empty. Normally glowing with life and fire, they were instead as dark and dead as stone.

"What is it, Morhion?" Estah asked, wringing her hands. "What's happened to her?"

The mage did not answer immediately. Gazing at the Harper, he muttered a few strange words as he touched her forehead. Suddenly she went limp in the loremaster's arms, the dagger slipping from her fingers.

"She is under an enchantment," the mage said.

Caledan helped Tyveris lay Mari down on the bed. Her eyes were closed now, her face was pale, her breathing shallow and rapid. "Enchantment?" Caledan wondered, turning toward the mage. "By whom? The shadevar?"

Morhion shook his head. "No, I do not think such would be within its powers. A Zhentarim sorcerer is the more likely culprit."

Caledan swore.

"Estah, is there something you can do for her?"

The halfling healer laid a hand upon the Harper's brow, then shook her head. "She's burning with fever, but none caused by any sickness. It's the magic that's setting her blood afire." She looked hesitantly at the mage, then back at Caledan. "Magic must be fought with magic."

Caledan clenched his jaw, not looking at Morhion. The Harper moaned in the enchanted slumber the mage had cast upon her, her hands clutching at the bedsheets. "All right, mage, do what you must." If you harm her… Caledan almost said, but he swallowed the words.

Morhion drew a small pouch from the pocket of his gray robe. He removed a dried leaf from the pouch, then opened the Harper's mouth, placing the leaf beneath her tongue.

Caledan looked worriedly at Estah, but the halfling shook her head. She had no idea what the mage was doing. They would have to trust him.

Morhion rummaged in his pack until he found a flask of wine. He dipped his finger into the flask, then let three ruby-colored drops fall onto Mari's brow. As the third drop fell he spoke several eerie, flowing words of magic. Suddenly the Harper cried out in pain.

"You're hurting her!" Caledan cried, grabbing the mage's arm, but Morhion shook off Caledan's grip.

"Madrak ul madrakell" the mage intoned, and Mari's eyes flew open. They were wide with confusion, but glimmering with life.

"What… what happened?" the Harper said weakly. She frowned and spit out the bitter-tasting leaf. She looked at the mage and Caledan in puzzlement.

Estah shook her head ever so slightly. The others exchanged meaningful looks. This incident was something Mari need never know of.

"We're not sure," Caledan told Mari. "The mage thinks there might be a sorcerer outside the inn, someone who means to do us ill. Whatever he was doing was making you… uh, sick. But the mage's spell took care of that."

Mari nodded weakly. "Thank you," she said to Morhion, but the mage had already turned to gather his things.

"We must leave here immediately," Morhion said, and for once Caledan agreed with him.

In minutes the companions were packed and ready to leave. Mari still looked a bit drawn, but she was standing firmly. "Can you make it?" Caledan asked.

She nodded, her face grim.

They found Brandebar in his nightshirt in the common room, a look of concern on his face. "What is it?" he asked.

"We've got to go, Brandebar," Caledan told the innkeep.

"I want you to lock the door behind us. Don't open it again until daylight Do you understand?"

"Is there someone out there who means you harm, milord?" Brandebar asked.

Caledan hesitated. "I believe so."

"Then I think you should follow me." The innkeep beckoned for them to go into the kitchen. Caledan looked at the others and then followed. In the corner of the kitchen Bran-debar pulled up a wooden trapdoor. Caledan could see a ladder leading down into shadows.

"It's a tunnel leading to the stables. Winters are bitter here, and I dug this one year so I could see to the horses without having to venture outside."

Caledan grinned. "Brandebar, we owe you a debt."

"You've paid me quite enough already, milord," the innkeep said, beaming. "I'm just glad I could be of small service to such important folk. Now take care. I expect you to come calling at the inn again one day soon."

They bid Brandebar farewell and then descended, one by one, into the earthen tunnel. It was crowded and damp inside, but after perhaps a hundred yards there was another ladder, this one leading up through a trapdoor in the stable's floor.

When the horses were ready Ferret quietly opened the stable doors, and they rode out into the dark, windswept night. The moon had set; dawn was at least two hours distant. The only light was the faint glow of the stars. They rode north, avoiding the road that led from the village. They had covered half a mile when Ferret pulled his horse up next to Caledan's.

"I don't mean to worry you or anything," the little thief said, "but I thought you might like to know that there are some shadows following us on the hills to our right and left."

"Horsemen?" Caledan asked, and Ferret nodded.

"My guess is they're waiting for us to ride into a ravine or gully-someplace good for an ambush. That's what I'd do anyway."

"What do you propose we do about them?" Caledan asked.

Ferret smiled, his crooked teeth glowing in the dimness. "Be ready," he said, drawing a dagger from his belt. Caledan nodded, loosening his sword in its sheath as Ferret moved away to warn the others.

The attack came swiftly. The low trough in which they rode had gradually narrowed until finally ending in a steep wash. Before they could spur their mounts up the rocky slope, the night was shattered by battle cries.

In the dimness Caledan saw a dozen dark shapes rushing at them from the ridges to the right and left. Men on dark horses drew their swords, which glimmered dully in the starlight. One of the horsemen tumbled from the saddle as he rode, Ferret's knife in his throat. Another fell to the ground next to him, clutching weakly at the crossbow bolt embedded in his side. Mari had hit her target and was frantically trying to reload.

Then the first of the horsemen reached them. Two lunged at Caledan. He parried one swing, then Mista reared up on her hind legs. She came crashing down, adding her strength to Caledan's blow. His sword cleaved deep into one of the riders. Hot droplets of blood struck Caledan's face. The rider slumped forward in the saddle as his mount galloped away. Caledan turned his attention to the other horseman.

Behind him, Tyveris ducked a horseman's blow and then reached over, pulling the man bodily from the saddle with his massive arms. The loremaster's shoulders bulged as he lifted the man and hurled him through the air. The man landed in a crumpled heap and did not rise again. Another attacker took the opportunity to swing at Tyveris, but a dagger appeared abruptly in his chest, and he fell screaming to the ground. Ferret was already drawing another dagger from his seemingly endless supply.