Marsheila Rockwell - Legacy of the Wolves

The paladin stood before them looking righteous, his sword alight with argent fire. Irulan stood not far away, an arrow still nocked, just waiting for a target. From the glare she gave d’Medani, it was clear to Greddark who she’d rather choose.

“Let’s get to the bottom of this,” Andri said. “You first.”

To Greddark’s surprise, Andri pointed the tip of his sword at the bounty hunter. Perhaps the young man was not as immune to her ensorcellment as he appeared.

She batted her lashes at him, and Irulan sniffed in disdain. Ignoring the shifter, d’Medani launched into her story.

“It’s a simple tale, really. Eight years ago, Greddark d’Kundarak was a student of the Twelve with a knack for creating unusual items. He gave one of those items to Yaradala d’Medani, the daughter of Committee member Helanth d’Medani, in exchange for securing him an interview with her father for a position within the House Medani enclave, since he was out of favor with his own House. While using the item-a doorway of some kind, meant to help her escape from rooms warded for her protection-Yaradala was killed in a most gruesome fashion. The lower half of her body materialized in a stone wall while the upper part triggered wards that burned her alive as she screamed for help. The damage was so severe that she could not be raised. She was Helanth’s only child. He hired me to help bring her killer to justice.”

Andri’s eyes had gone cold at the description of Yaradala’s death. Greddark didn’t blame the paladin-he’d seen the girl’s body shortly after she died. The sight and the smell still haunted his dreams.

Andri pointed his sword at him.

“Is that what happened?”

Greddark shook himself to dislodge the image of the young woman’s charred corpse partially imbedded in the wall of her own chambers. “More or less. The device opened a doorway into Syrania. If Yaradala had followed my instructions, she would not have been hurt, but she must have become frightened or disoriented during the passage. Her death was horrible and tragic, but it was entirely avoidable.”

D’Medani harrumphed at that and opened her mouth to contradict him, but Greddark raised his voice and kept talking.

“Ultimately, the Committee agreed with me, though I was expelled from the Twelve, and my own family cut me off, fearing the political fallout. The murder charges came after-when Helanth d’Medani could not convince the Committee to do more than censure me, he appealed to the Karrnathi government, which was more than happy to oblige him and his coffers.” He looked right into Andri’s eyes, letting the paladin read the pain he still carried in his soul. “I’m sorry she died. I truly am. But it wasn’t my fault.”

Some days, he even believed that.

D’Medani had had enough. “The item was clearly defective! And according to Karrnathi law, the burden for any death resulting from the use of such an item falls on its maker. Whether you intended it to happen or not, Yaradala died , and you are responsible!”

He didn’t think now was the time to point out that the planar doorway was hardly defective. It had worked just fine for him.

Andri looked from him to the half-elf and back again, then seemed to come to some decision. He extinguished and sheathed his sword, then unlocked both Greddark’s manacles and the ones the bounty hunter wore. He handed the iron bonds back to d’Medani.

“You’re free to go.”

The half-elf looked puzzled. “With the dwarf, right?”

“No. You are free to go. Alone. The dwarf stays here.”

“But Karrnathi law -”

“You are not in Karrnath. You are in Thrane, and here, the Church is the law.” Greddark had never heard the paladin’s voice sound so hard. “In the absence of clergy, I am the Church. And I am declaring Greddark d’Kundarak innocent of this crime.” Andri’s tone lost some of its edge. “Now, I know you came a long way and will likely forfeit a large fee for not bringing him in. The Church is nothing if not generous. Tell me your fee and I will pay it.”

D’Medani looked as if she’d been slapped. “I don’t want your money, you self-righteous-”

Andri’s sword was out and resting against the base of her throat before she could finish the imprecation.

“You’ll take my gold, or you’ll take my steel. Decide. Now.”

Whatever her personal feelings about Greddark’s guilt, the bounty hunter wasn’t stupid.

“The gold,” she muttered, glaring.

Andri smiled at her. “Wise choice. How much?”

She cast a sidelong glance at Greddark. “Fifty dragons.”

“What?” Greddark exclaimed. For that sort of money, he’d be tempted to turn himself in!

Andri’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. So she was telling the truth. Damn. Helanth must really want him back. Probably so he could have the pleasure of killing Greddark himself.

Andri sheathed his sword again. “Keep an eye on her,” he said to Irulan as he crossed over to his horse and rummaged through a pack. Irulan, who’d had an arrow pointed at d’Medani this whole time, was more than happy to comply.

The paladin returned with a folded piece of paper.

“This letter will allow you to draw fifty platinum dragons from my personal account at any House Kundarak bank, in or out of Thrane, in exchange for your abandonment of the unlawful bounty on Greddark’s head. Do I have your word on that?” He held out his hand.

After a moment, d’Medani reluctantly grasped it. “You have my word.”

“Excellent.” Andri handed the letter over. “I trust you can find your own way out of the city?”

The half-elf grunted in reply. Snatching up her war spikard, she set off the way she’d come, running with an easy stride that ate up ground quickly. In moments, she was out of sight. Irulan kept her arrow trained on her the entire way.

“That’s it?” Greddark asked, not really surprised. “You’re just going to let her go?”

Andri looked over at the shifter. “Irulan?”

She gave him a wicked smile.

“I’m on it,” she said, replacing the arrow in her quiver and turning to lope after the bounty hunter, her gait easily matching that of the half-elf.

As she, too, disappeared from view, Greddark looked at Andri. “Now what?”

Andri shrugged. “Now, we wait.”

Wir, Eyre 4, 998 YK

Irulan tracked the half-elf though the silent streets of Shadukar, the fleeing bounty hunter’s footprints easy to follow in the dust and ash. She caught up to the other woman quickly but stayed back, out of sight. Much as she’d like to put an arrow through one of the little strumpet’s amethyst eyes, she was only here to ensure d’Medani didn’t renege on her agreement with Andri.

True to her word, d’Medani exited the city by the same gate the trio had used to enter it earlier. A black stallion waited for her outside the walls, and she quickly mounted and rode back toward Olath. Irulan watched her go, wondering at the bounty hunter’s easy acquiescence. She didn’t think Greddark had seen the last of the persistent half-elf, but it really wasn’t her problem. Just as long as d’Medani waited until after they’d found their killer, she could drag the dwarf back to Karrnath by his unnaturally short beard, for all Irulan cared. He seemed like a decent enough fellow, but their partnership was one of mutual convenience, nothing more.

When d’Medani was just a speck on the horizon, Irulan lowered her bow and turned to go back the way she had come. As she did so, she noticed the myriad tracks they had left-hoof prints, boot prints, and her own clawed feet. If the bounty hunter did come back, she’d have no problem finding them again. Their tracks would lead her right to them. Her or Quillion.