Ed Greenwood: The Mercenaries

Belmer turned his head and gave them all a mirthless smile. "No. It's a meeting between us all that I should have held earlier. Some things need to be said-and overheard by the right ears."

Ignoring the puzzled looks of the Sharkers, the fat little man indicated the nearest companionway leading below, and asked politely, "Shall we?"

"The mists are clearing," Brindra said suddenly. "Shouldn't we be worried about the black ship coming to call again?"

"Not if we move quickly," Belmer replied, and swept past her to bound down the worn stairs. Exchanging glances, the Sharkers followed. What was the little man up to this time?

Their cabin was as they had left it-clothes hung, draped, or wadded up here and there, the chest that had held their weapons standing open in the center of the floor, the lamps out. Belmer lit one with a striker and waved at Belgin to use it to light the others.

As the Sharkers shuffled to their bunks, their employer leaned against the central pillar, arms crossed and one boot planted atop the empty chest. Kurthe shouldered down the other stairs, froze for a moment when he saw the assembly, and then went to his bunk, ignoring Belmer. Rings gave them all a cheery wave and followed suit.

"What's this all about?" Sharessa asked, before Belmer could begin.

He gave her a little smile and replied, "I've heard talk about who I may be, and what the mission I've hired you for might turn out to be. Both of those things are my own business, but I'm prepared to swear to you now-by the names of whatever gods you hold dear, and if need be as an addendum to our contract-that I never met Blackfingers Ralingor."

He looked around at them all, and went on. "I knew the man only by reputation, never had dealings with him or suffered losses from his activities, and I have never had any part of his fabled treasure. I am not seeking his treasure now. Nor do I have anything of his, nor the man himself nor any shipmate of his save those of us openly gathered here, on this ship or in any place that I know of. Our trip does not concern the late Ralingor, and anyone searching this ship for his wealth is going to be disappointed. There is not a copper bit of it here."

Belmer looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each Sharker in turn. "I have no interest in hunting down spies among you, nor in listening to whispers as each of you tries to decide how many of the words I've just spoken were lies. So I propose that we all drink some wine-of your choice, from the cabin beside my own-with more of what I gave you earlier dissolved in it. This much extra of it will release you to sleep nor mally, not keep you wakeful as it has been doing-but it will make all of us loose-tongued and entirely truthful in what we do say. Ask me, after we drink, about all I have said, and what you hear shall be the truth; test it on yourselves first if you doubt me in this."

"Bah-you could be immune to this stuff," Kurthe growled.

Belmer turned his head to look at the moon-faced man from Edenvale. "Belgin? Tell him."

"If he is," the sharper told them all, "he's the only man living who's learned how… and I've heard quite a few folk in Thay have tried to become so, by consuming much of the powder for years. They've all failed."

Brindra was on her feet "Lead me to the bottles. Fve always wanted to choose some really good, expensive wine, and have a handsome man serve it to me."

"Why, thank you, old barrel," Rings said airily. "I'd be-"

"I was referring," she growled, giving him a wintry look, "to Master Belmer."

The little man was looking at the ceiling. He sighed theatrically, and murmured, "Hundreds of pirates in Tharkar, and I had to hire these

…"

Everyone except Kurthe and Sharessa chuckled at that. Belmer waved his hand at the cabin door. "It's not locked."

"So," Sharessa asked softly, as Brindra strode to the indicated door, "who among us do you suspect of being a spy? And for whom?"

Belmer waved a finger at Sharessa. "Not yet-we haven't had those drinks yet, and there's something more we have to do before I'll give you answers to such queries."

"And that is-T

"Search the entire ship together," the little man told her, "so that you all know, from your own seeing, we've no stowaways nor captive Blackfingers nor hidden loot aboard, before we start in flapping our jaws. Drinks first."

They did as Belmer had suggested-and if Rings thought that the powder that the little man stirred into his drink was a slightly different hue from what he put into theirs, he frowned and said nothing.

As Belmer and the Sharkers prowled around, watched by the puzzled Tharkaran crew, no one could fault the thoroughness of the little man's search. He peered behind every board that could be made to move, and lifted and looked under every moveable thing. In each room he paused and politely asked a different Sharker, "Are you betraying the whereabouts of this ship to anyone not on board, by any means?"

Each pirate answered no, in differing tones and degrees of defensive detail, as befitted their characters. Along the way, they all saw that Belmer had nothing on board but the clothes he stood in, a single change of clothing and a cloak, a dagger and some waxed cord, and a mirror to shave by. There were certainly no hidden rooms and no captives or gold. Their search ended back where it had begun: in the Sharkers' cabin.

"Why all this, anyway?" Kurthe growled.

"Despite the fact we've nothing worth taking, someone is after us, in the ship we've seen twice," Belmer replied. "Someone able to follow us-and with all the changes in course I've made, I'd say they've magic to trace us. It's either a spell cast by someone on board, or an enchantment already on some thing on our ship."

He looked around at them all, in the suddenly tense silence that followed, and added, "I've a means of knowing if a person bears an enchantment on their body. None of you, or the Tharkarans, are so afflicted, either yourselves or what you wear and carry. There's little else that we've brought aboard, beyond a little food, and-"

He stopped suddenly, and frowned down at the chest that lay, open and empty, under his boot. Then, slowly, he bent to peer at it.

As the Sharkers watched, Belmer raised one open hand. Anvil knew what that gesture meant, and handed the fat little man a sword.

Their employer ran the blade delicately in under the chest and slowly levered it up, to look at its bottom. It was a stout and well-worn assembly of dirty planks; nothing out of the ordinary.

"Not even a copper piece did Blackfingers leave us," Belmer murmured slowly as he looked at the cabin floor where the chest had rested, ran a hand lightly over its boards, and then gently lowered the chest back down to the floor.

He looked inside again, and then slid his borrowed blade down to touch the inside bottom of the chest, bringing a finger and thumb up to grasp it level with the top of the chest. Drawing the sword out, he laid it against the outside of the chest.

The watching Sharkers nodded; Ingrar gasped. The sword point was a good three fingerwidths from the bottom of the chest. The carrychest bought from the Masques had a false bottom.

The Sharkers drew in closer around the chest, swords and daggers sliding out silently. Belmer held up a warning hand, looked carefully at the bottom of the chest for long, silent moments, and then set his sword tip against the end of a particular board.

He drove down and in, suddenly, levering upwards, his face twisting with the effort. The wood groaned and then sprang up.

A black mist seemed to curl and rise for a moment from the hidden space below-and they all saw something glowing faintly there, once its drifting concealment was gone.