Thomas Reid: The Emerald Scepter

It did not take long to spot Bartimus, who wandered through the various public halls of the Generon, his head swiveling back and forth, looking for someone. The wizard was perhaps forty paces ahead, passing through the crowds, unaware of his own social disgraces. More than a few scowls turned his way after he jostled elbows and caused drinks to slosh, but he never noticed.

Falagh groaned as the wizard spotted his quarry and made a direct line for the man. Grand Syndar Lavant was standing near a wall, engaged in polite conversation with the Lord of Arrabar himself, Eles Wianar. A small crowd had gathered, perhaps to congratulate Lavant on his appointment as Grand Syndar of the entire Temple of Waukeen, or just to bask in the presence of either the Grand Syndar or the Lord of Arrabar. Grozier Talricci stood next to the high priest, making a point of showing his close association with Lavant, while his sister, Marga Matrell, stood off to one side, looking disinterested in the maneuverings. Bartimus headed for the tall, graying man.

Why is he here? Falagh wondered in dismay, pulling up short and pretending to retrieve a pair of delicate crystal goblets of spiced wine. With House Talricci in disfavor, why would he risk arrest tonight of all nights? He casually watched the group as he handed one of the goblets to Lobra, who sipped at it while continuing to nibble at her snacks.

Heedless of the others gathered around the pair of luminaries, Bartimus shoved his way to the front of the crowd and approached closely enough to whisper something in Grozier's ear. When the patriarch of House Talricci heard the wizard's words, he jerked his head around to stare at the diminutive fellow, then turned to Lavant and said something in his ear.

Whatever was said, it was serious enough to force Lavant to excuse himself. Eles Wianar nodded and clapped Lavant on the shoulder before he allowed the newly ordained high priest to move off, then the Shining Lord of Arrabar turned his attention to the rest of the group. Lavant and Grozier left the chamber in a hurry, the high priest stalking in obvious ire, followed by Marga and Bartimus. The high priest's waddling gait caused the innumerable gems adorning his cream-colored robes to scintillate in the light of dozens of lanterns. At one point, he paused and made a deliberate gesture to someone on the opposite side of the room, and when Falagh glanced that way, he spotted a blur of magenta and purple vanishing through a distant doorway.

What the blazes is going on? he wondered again.

"Come on," Falagh said, grabbing Lobra's arm once more and heading off after the high priest. "Keep up," he added when his wife nearly stumbled in her rush to turn and accompany him. Falagh felt the woman stiffen in displeasure at his gruff tone, but he did not care. Something was transpiring, and he did not wish to miss any of the conversation.

Falagh and Lobra caught up to Lavant, Grozier, and the other two partway down a wide, alcoved hallway filled with planted greenery. The foursome was just passing through a doorway near a copse of trees potted in large half-barrels. Lavant was frowning as Grozier seemed to lecture him, one finger waggling under the priest's nose as they stepped through the doorway and into a private parlor.

"… looks very suspicious from where I stand," Grozier was saying as Falagh arrived. "Highly suspicious. And you won't give me a straight answer!"

Lavant spotted Falagh and his wife and sighed, then motioned for them to enter the parlor before he shut the door behind them all. Then the high priest raised his hands and gestured for calm. "I assure you that there is nothing to be concerned about. Whatever Emriana Matrell is doing here, there's no reason to be alarmed. She knows nothing important."

"Emriana Matrell is here?" Falagh asked, pushing his way beside Grozier, leaving Lobra to fend for herself with the other two bystanders. "I thought Junce was going to deal with her last night," he added, giving the priest a pointed stare. "Why is she still alive? And why are you showing your face around here?" he demanded, turning to look at Grozier just as pointedly.

"She showed up this afternoon," Grozier explained. "Just walked right into the house, looking like a half-drowned wharf rat, as we were paying our respects to Hetta's remains."

Falagh started at the bit of news concerning the matriarch, though he was very pleased to hear it.

Gozier continued. "Apparently, Junce's associates didn't make sure the job was finished, because Emriana's still very much alive. And right here, in the Generon, and not just visiting, either. She's sneaking down into the dungeons. What is she looking for?" he finished, turning back to Lavant.

Again Lavant tried to motion for calm. "Nothing. Everything is going exactly according to plan." Then he turned toward Falagh, folding his hands together and resting them upon his rotund stomach as he asked, "Do I speak falsely? You know as well as I the state of things in Reth."

Falagh shrugged. "My messengers report that our mercenary army is doing an effective job, and the prices of lumber are steadily climbing," he conceded, not wanting to allow the high priest to turn the discussion away from his concerns. "But you have become terribly friendly with our Lord Wianar of late, and that concerns me. And you," he said, turning back to Grozier, "didn't answer my question before. Why are you showing your face at this party?"

"Because, my dear Falagh, I am no longer a wanted man. With Hetta dead, my dear sister Marga, here," and Grozier sent a warm smile over to the far side of the room, where the woman was standing, looking positively bored, "is now the ward for the heirs to the entire House."

Falagh glanced toward Marga, widow to Evester Matrell and up until that night, firmly ensconced in the Matrell household. He had been somewhat surprised to see her also at the Sammardach celebration, considering the actions Grozier had admitted in enforcing her cooperation in his plans to gain control of the Matrell estate.

In a very officious tone, Grozier continued. "I have been absolved of all previous accusations and been invited to serve as co-ward over the Matrell estate until the twins come of age."

She doesn't seem too bitter about it, Falagh thought. On the contrary, the woman's face was calm and content. Falagh shrugged it off as a change of heart. Or pragmatism, he mused.

"Only Emriana could be a potential thorn in our sides now, and she had nothing to her name this afternoon when she departed House Matrell," Grozier said. "I made sure of that," he added, looking smug. "With no home, no allies, and no funds to use to fend for herself, it should have been easy for Roundface's, ah, 'associates' to finish her once and for all. And yet Bartimus here tells me that less than an hour ago, he spied her creeping about with a priest of Waukeen, the two of them making their way down into the depths of the Generon. If she is not here to cause trouble for us, what could Lord Wianar possibly have in his palace that might interest her?"

Falagh absorbed all of Grozier's explanation, then turned to Lavant once more. "Yes, I'm very curious to hear your explanation. Is Lord Wianar involved in our little business venture in a way we don't know?"

Lavant opened his mouth again, no doubt to protest his innocence, but he was interrupted by the opening of the door.

"You are too astute, as always, Falagh," Junce Roundface said, sounding jovial as he entered from the hallway. "Emriana Matrell is here because I lured her here."

"You what?" Grozier blurted, apparently just as stunned as Falagh felt. "Why in Waukeen's name would you do that?" he added in a softer tone.

Falagh winced at his compatriot's noise, but he felt similar incredulity. "Yes, pray tell, why here?"

"Because," Junce said, still grinning, "it was the best place to capture her."