Roger Moore: Errand of Mercy

"Which temple was that, the rogue one?" asked Kern.

"I don't know. It appears to be the one now called the Fallen Temple. The other temples were to the Earthmother"-he grimaced-"Waukeen, Tempus, and… Umberlee."

"Umberlee." Kern shook his head again. "That's wonderful. The Sea Bitch, down here with Wau-keen's gold grubbers and Tempus's war crazies. Things are getting better all the time."

"Hey!" shouted Jacob. "Get back!"

Everyone turned, startled. There was a fog in the air over the giant's body. Jacob, who had been examining the giant, now quickly waved everyone away from it.

"The sword wound wasn't bleeding," he explained hastily, staring down at the body. "I was trying to find out if this thing was a golem, when it began to smoke. Look!"

Before their eyes, the giant's body slowly sagged. The muscles seemed to deflate, and the bones bent and curved as if they were rubber. The men armed themselves swiftly, but there was nothing to fight. Within minutes, the giant's body had decayed into a flat translucent mass of brown matter that reminded Noph of apple butter. This material gave off an odorless smoke as it shrank in size, until it had completely vanished.

Speechless, Kern toed the area of carpet where the giant's body had been just ten minutes ago. Not even a stain was left.

"What was it that Lord Garkim said?" asked Jacob. "We're as safe here as in our own homes?"

"I'd like to hear what he has to say about this," muttered Kern. "They had maids in here right up to the moment we came in. I saw one come out of this very room. This creature couldn't have been here, unless he was invisible."

"Or unless a bloodforge created him," said Trandon. Everyone looked at him. He raised an eyebrow in response. "They can create soldiers out of thin air, remember?"

"We will say nothing at all about this," said Miltiades abruptly and firmly. "We will say nothing at all. Anyone who mentions it to us will thus reveal his guilt. We are going to clean this mess up and move the debris into one of the side rooms. We will tell them we moved the furniture a bit; if they press us, we will apologize for the damage and offer payment, but say nothing about the giant. Trandon, take the books into your room if you wish to study them further. Let us act quickly." He glanced at Noph, who was still staring at the carpet where the golem had dissolved. "Come, lad, stop mooning about. There's work to be done." He pulled a gauntlet and vambrace from his arm and tossed them on the floor in front of the youth. "Polish the armor. We will need to appear at our best when next we meet Lord Garkim."

The men fell to their work. "I suppose in a way we should all be flattered," said Jacob wryly, carting off the remains of a chair. "Whoever is after us certainly thinks enough of us to send their very best."

The smell of the ocean was in the afternoon air when the five bruised and battered visitors heard a knock on their door. They arose, weapons readied, but it was only Lord Garkim in the hall. He wore a wide-sleeved red silk shirt, blue dress trousers, and polished black boots. A white tabard was belted over this, a colorful blue sailing ship embroidered over his chest. and show you the way myself."

"We are grateful for your attention," responded Miltiades, returning the bow. He led the group out of the room. Their armor was reasonably well-polished, thanks to Noph, though each thought his own armor stank to the high heavens. Better this, however, than being caught unarmored and unprepared.

Garkim led the five visitors through two grand halls, on which assorted portraits of kings and battlefields hung. Tilted shafts of sunlight fell from windows and skylights overhead. Brown-skinned maids in red-and-white dresses stopped and lowered their eyes as the procession passed, then scurried away, wondering why the knights did not doff their armor like sensible people.

Garkim said little except to greet the councilors and soldiers he met on the way. He appeared to ignore his visitors, but he picked up their thoughts and learned of their encounter with the red giant. Garkim thought it had all the earmarks of a bloodforge assassination; he could easily guess who was behind the attack, but that was for the mage-king to handle later. Meanwhile he was puzzled that the visitors made no overt mention of the attack.

Noph gave a nervous smile at Ffolk and Mar alike as he passed. He made a mental note to wash carefully when he could. Some of the Ffolk here had some sort of rash or fungus on their necks and arms. The heat and humidity were no doubt to blame. He then mulled over the fight with the red giant. He was proud of himself, but at the same time he felt a slow anger with the paladins, especially with Miltiades. He'd saved them and what was his reward? Polishing sweaty armor. If only Aleena could have seen him in the fight. He wondered what the lovely spellcaster was doing at this moment, hoping she herself was unharmed.

The dining hall was not huge, by Waterdeep standards, but it was respectable enough. The air smelled of a light burnt incense that made Noph's nose itch; it was pleasant and annoying at the same time. The central table was covered with an elaborately stitched cloth showing a procession of fantastic animals and monsters, and subdued curtains and royal paintings dominated the dark wood-plank walls.

Serving girls showed each armored man to a seat (heavily built, fortunately) and placed a small cup of red liquid in front of him before hurrying away. Garkim took the seat at the head of the table, Miltiades and Kern on his right and left. Miltiades placed his shield against a wall before he sat down. Noph sat the farthest away from Garkim, on the other side of Jacob from Kern. He picked up his cup and smelled it, then took a large sip. He abruptly choked and coughed, spitting a shower of red droplets all over himself and the tablecloth before him.

"Our wine sometimes has that effect," said Garkim, as if nothing had happened. "It is rather strong and has a few local fruits and spices added to it during the fermentation process. I will inquire about the identity of the spices, if you wish."

"It is not necessary," said Miltiades, watching Jacob thump Noph on the back. He sighed and carefully picked up his own cup, sniffing the bouquet. The wine certainly was unusual, very much an acquired taste: quite bitter and strong, but not poisonous. His ring would have told him if it was harmful. A gift from his wife, the ring could detect poison within one yard of the wearer-a most useful and thoughtful present, indeed.

"We are having sea fowl this afternoon," said Garkim. "It was a traditional dish of my people, before the Ffolk came. To our amazement, the Ffolk made the dish even better. It is not as spicy as it formerly was, but I hope you will find it palatable."

Kern caught Miltiades's gaze, asking a silent question. The paladin leader shrugged. Kern lifted his own cup and swished its red contents around. "Your lordship," he began, "I have a few questions about your kingdom that I hope you can answer. We knew next to nothing about this land when we arrived here, and we are all quite curious about your realm. We don't wish to bruise your hospitality by doing so."

Lord Garkim smiled. His white teeth flashed. "I will be all answers, good sir, but I have some questions for you of my own. I have told you much about our fair and fortunate land, but I know next to nothing about your homeland, or yourselves- or the mission that brought you here." He waited expectantly.

The men at the table traded looks. Miltiades took a deep breath. "We came here from Water-deep, a great city far to the northwest. We were sent on a quest to recover a noble woman from Waterdeep, Lady Eidola, who was kidnapped and taken away." He paused for a second or two. "The kidnappers made their escape through a gatelike spell, something similar to that archway through which we arrived. We were able to determine that the gate led directly to this region. We suspect it led, in fact, to this city."