J. King: Conspiracy

"What about the rest of you?" Noph asked.

"My eyes," Ingrar remarked with a strange calm. "Though I feel I've gained something in the bargain. I can't see the surface of things anymore, but I sense what lies beneath. For instance, Belgin, you're thinking you'll go sharping tonight, and you've got a marked deck of cards in your pocket, the crowns up your sleeves; Noph, you're aching for our dear Shadow. You're not thinking she's a cobra, but she is, so you might want to take your hand off her thigh."

Noph complied, blushing, and shifted away from Shar. He noticed Belgin looked just as uncomfortable.

"How'd you know?" the sharper asked. "Some kind of psionic-"

"I used my other senses. Your marked deck still smells like mackerel from the night you won the fishing boat. And your sleeves have been dragging."

Belgin crossed flowing silks over his chest. "How would a clever fellow like you feel about joining me at the table tonight?"

"Certainly," Ingrar replied. "As for the rest of you, it's smells, mostly. You know how they say an animal can smell fear? Well, I can smell just about every emotion coming from you."

"What about me?" asked Rings. "What am I thinking?"

"You're thinking youH have another ale."

In the midst of the ensuing laughter, Rings waved a stout hand to the waiter, calling for a final round. Entreri stared hard at Ingrar. "Andl?" he said softly. "Do you know what I'm thinking?"

Ingrar turned his blind eyes toward the assassin, his face troubled. "I… I think so. No, no, I don't," he amended hastily.

Sharessa's face soured. "Well, what's been ripped out of me would have to have been my heart. It got shredded early on. I'd not have survived with it."

Noph and Entreri both cast sidelong glances at the beautiful woman.

Rings spoke up. "Back there in the forest, I lost my conscience. Always before, there was a split second pause before I killed. Among the fiends, I learned to kill by reflex."

"What about you, Master Entreri?" asked Noph. The assassin did not look at any of them. He merely stared ahead, into the empty spaces between swaying fronds. "Long before I met any of you, perhaps before some of you were born, I murdered my own soul." He smiled painfully. "It's been a much smoother journey since." After a deep breath, the assassin asked, "And, what about you, Kastonoph Nesher? What will you lose?"

"I'll cut off my ear this very night to become part of Captain Blackfingers Ralingor!" Noph enthused, but his comrades only sighed and shook their heads.

The waiter arrived with the last round of drinks and set them, careful not to spill, before the patrons.

"Now that the confessions and confabulations are finished," Entreri said, "I have some business to discuss-among those whom I've hired. Noph, if you don't mind?"

The young man looked injured. "But I'm one of you." "Are you pledged to slay Lady Eidola, like the rest of us?"

Noph hung his head. His bangs drooped over his eyes. Without touching his drink, he stood and strode out to the street.

"We've told you of our secret past," Shar said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What about yours, Master Entreri?"

The little man gazed levelly at her. "What is there to tell? I am an assassin. I enjoy my work, and excel at it. Many of the famous persons who have disappeared or turned up dead in the past years have been my work."

"We guessed that much from what the paladin said at the fountain," Shar retorted. "But we still don't know anything about you."

"If you know that much, you know everything you need to know about me," said Entreri, his voice hushed but no less emphatic. "More information will take some… effort on your part." He stared significantly at the woman. "Now, there has been a slight change of plan. To find Lady Eidola, we need to find the bloodforge of Doegan."

"What are you talking about?" sputtered Rings, a native of this land.

"I am talking about conspiracy, my stout fellow. My employer told me that Eidola was kidnapped by a bloodforge-conjured army and that she is held here in Doegan. Someone with access to Doegan's bloodforge must hold her. Find the bloodforge, and we find the lady.

"You've no idea what you say," Rings hissed. "The bloodforge is the heart of Doegan's military might. It is the best guarded weapon in the arsenal!"

"And I am the greatest assassin in Faerun, and you are my handpicked strike force."

"I'm in," said Ingrar immediately. "And before you decide a blind man can't do you any good on this mission, let me advise you not to drink this last round. It has been poisoned." As the others drew hands away from their flagons, the blind pirate said, "It's not actually a poison, but a sleep agent. I imagine the owner of this place plans to turn us over to the mage-king's forces."

The assassin gave the blind man a frank stare, then nodded. "Thanks for the warning." With a flick of his wrist, Entreri flung outward a batch of tiny white pills, one of which fell, bubbling, into each drink. Then he hoisted his own flagon and drank it to the dregs. "Don't worry: one of those pills could purify a whole lake."

The others were wary. Ingrar sniffed his drink, seemed mildly impressed, and drained it. After that, the others followed suit, each setting down his or her empty flagon with the words, "I'm in."

Rings downed his own drink, pledged his loyalty, and then, for good measure, downed Noph's, too.

Interlude

Concupiscence

I'm mesmerized by you.

I can't help it. I know I should be solemn as we carry the old dead mercenary out to the dock, but you're right in front of me. You're right against me. You're holding his thigh, and I'm holding his knee, and you're leaning hard against me.. my heart. It got shredded early on…

What a bitter fate, if you stopped loving just before I started.

Now I know why he was called Anvil: he's as heavy as one. Still, if he'd been light, you'd not be pressed up against me now, as we stagger past the crates and up the splintery dock.

There's the dinghy, ahead. The small waves of the harbor slap against its gunwales. It's a narrow, long boat, what they build down here, and I'm thinking well need a shoehorn to get Anvil into it. I'm also thinking you must need a shoehorn to slip into those pants.

You were crawling all over me through lunch. In-grar's told me you're using me to get at Entreri, but I think you really do like me. And what's not to like? Maybe once I've climbed the rigging and killed a dozen foes, 111 be able to tear my heart out and give it to you and teach you to love again.

Listen to me. A day ago I would have pledged my loyalty to Aleena Paladinstar. Now it's you, Sharessa Stag-wood. You're opposites, but the same-mysterious, unattainable, untame.

It's a strain to hold Anvil this way, low and over the edge of the dock. Loose oh three. Damn! I did it on two. I'm losing hold, anyway. The others drop him, and you almost follow him, over into the drink. I grab you and pull you back. For a second, you're clinging tight to me, and I'm glad.

"Get away from her, boy!" It is Entreri, the assassin. He yanks you back. You seem startled, dismayed. He's jealous and… angry that he's jealous.

Then you break away from him, too. You can't be held. You stand apart from us, hands on your hips, and watch as the others pile oil-soaked wood around Anvil's head and feet and stuff it between his body and his arms. On top of it all, they lay out a rag of tarp, and Anvil's sword. Then, with a grunt, Rings shoves the dinghy out from the dock.

The boat glides, dark and silent, away from us, out of the wind shadow of the dock and into the higher waves of the seaward breeze. It's quickly beyond my throwing arm, and then twice that far. The assassin stoops down, lights a torch, and wings the thing out over the bay. The fiery brand plummets like a shooting star and fire flares up.