Paul Kemp - Shadowbred

Cale suspected that Abelar was nearer the truth than Tamlin, but did not say so.

Abelar reined in his mount near the monumental arch that spanned the Elzimmer. "This is as far as we go, Hulorn," Abelar said to Tamlin.

"What? No. You must enter the city with me. Your forces will join ours."

Abelar shook his head. "I am doing all I can to rally men to our cause, Hulorn. The nobility may stand with Mirabeta or cower, but individual men will join us. We need all we can get. I will return to Selgaunt or send word within two tendays. Mirabeta will not start her war in winter. We have until spring to recruit men to our cause. After that, there will be blood."

He clasped Tamlin's hand, then Cale's. He held Cale's longer.

"I would have thought you and I more likely to cross blades than raise them together. I am… pleased it is otherwise. Let it stay that way, eh?"

"Agreed," Cale answered.

They parted, Abelar to raise as many men as he could to stand against Mirabeta, Cale and Tamlin to muster Selgaunt's forces and prepare a defense.

"We must send for your mother, Thazienne, and Talbot," Cale said.

Tamlin nodded. Both of them knew it was safer to be in the city than outside of it.

Elyril watched from her position along the wall of the High Council Chamber as her aunt made her way through the crowd to the Speaker's dais. She wore a flattering but unpretentious green daygown. Elyril wore a violet gown, her amethysts, and her holy symbol

The council chamber was filled. The open doors revealed more nobles and their servants and wallmen packing the surrounding halls. Sunshine poured in through the domed ceiling, glittering off the dragon's hoard of finery and jewels. Almost all of Sembia's nobility was represented, either in person or by proxy. Much of the western nobility had sent word of allegiance to Ordulin and support of the overmistress. Only the nobility of Saerb, Selgaunt, and secessionist Daerlun were unrepresented, but they did not matter. Saerb, traitors in kind with Selgaunt, answered to Endren Corrinthal, and Endren Corrinthal was rotting in the Hole of Yhaunn.

Advocates for granting Mirabeta plenary power as Sembia's war regent had already spoken. No one had risen in opposition. All that remained was for Mirabeta to accept.

As Mirabeta ascended the steps of the Speaker's dais, the chamber hushed and Elyril silently thanked Shar. Only a few stray coughs broke the silence.

Mirabeta did not smile. She looked grim, as befitted the circumstances.

"You offer me a great honor, and great responsibility. My inclination is to turn it down. Sembia has not had a war regent in centuries."

Conversation rushed across the chamber, speculation that Mirabeta would refuse to serve. Elyril knew better.

"But I have recently received word that Abelar Corrinthal rides the countryside, rallying traitors to his standard, and terrorizing ordinary Sembians."

Elyril knew most of the words to be lies. Abelar was raising a force of riders in the northwest, but he had terrorized no one.

"I have also received word that Selgaunt is raising an army to withstand the will of this body. It does not please me, but if Selgaunt and Saerb wish war, then war they shall have. We refuse to let Sembia fall into the hands of traitors and thugs."

The chamber erupted into applause. Mirabeta nodded and waited for it to die down.

"Under these dark circumstances, in these dark days, I feel dutybound not to follow my inclinations. Accordingly, I hereby accept this august body's directive to act as War Regent of the realm throughout the term of the insurrection."

Several hundred of Sembia's merchant nobility rose to their feet as one and fairly rattled the dome with their cheers.

The next days became a blur to Cale. Tamlin met with the Old Chauncel assembly, with individual members of the Old Chauncel, with high priests and powerful wizards. He sent out word of a muster, dispatched envoys to Cormyr and Cormanthyr. Peaceful overtures to Ordulin went unanswered. It seemed Abelar was correct-Mirabeta would have her war. They expected no aid but sought it nevertheless.

Agents were sent abroad as far as Baldur's Gate, Ravens Bluff, and Arrabar, seeking to hire mercenary companies. Selgaunt's treasury was no match for Ordulin's, but it was a wealthy city nevertheless. Surely some swords would answer the call of coin.

Such events turned Cale's shadowy past as a guild "letters man" into a valuable asset to the Hulorn, who used Cale and Vees Talendar to help him compose the constant stream of orders and proclamations that went forth from the palace.

Everyone in the city soon realized that war was imminent, that the matter could not be peaceably resolved. Some Helms abandoned their posts to join with the forces marshalling in Saerloon, and others arrived in Selgaunt seeking to join against Ordulin. The brewing civil war provided an excuse to bring long-buried regional and familial rivalries to the fore. Many in Sembia had long been jealous of Selgaunt's prominence.

Tamlin declared martial law and posted Helms and Scepters at the gates and along the walls. Trade came to a standstill. Everyone entering and leaving the city was questioned and checked. Repair crews worked on long-ignored defensive bulwarks. Captain Onthul and the Helms drilled and re-drilled the soldiers. All ships of the Sembian navy in Selgaunt Bay were pressed into service.

"It is not enough," Tamlin said to Vees and Cale as they sat in the parlor in Stormweather.

"No," Vees said. "It is not."

Their spies told them that the muster in Saerloon would result in several thousand troops, with hundreds of cavalry among them, and that the muster in Ordulin would result in half that again. Selgaunt would be outnumbered four or five to one, not accounting for hired mercenaries.

"We have not yet heard from Abelar and the Saerbians," Cale said.

"If only he could rally those loyal to his father," Tamlin said. He sipped at a goblet of Storm Ruby, the heaviest wine in the Uskevren cellar.

"He will bring a few hundred men, no more than that," Vees said, and topped off Tamlin's goblet.

"We do not know what forces he will bring, Talendar," answered Cale.

"If he does not hurry, he will bring nothing," said Tamlin tiredly. "The snows will soon arrive. He will not be able to reach us at all if he does not arrive soon."

"Perhaps he does not intend to," said Vees casually.

"What? What do you mean?" Tamlin asked, alarmed.

Cale glared at Vees, then said to Tamlin, "I read Abelar as a man of his word, my lord. He said he would return or send word. He will do so."

Tamlin nodded absently. "He could be dead, Mister Cale. We would not know it."

To that, Cale could say nothing. Abelar could be dead.

Vees leaned back in his armchair and looked at the ceiling.

"Deuce, I have something… controversial to say."

Tamlin set down his goblet and looked a question at Vees. Cale did the same.

"It is a bit embarrassing to admit," Vees said. "But… my family has indirect trading ties with… no, never mind."

"Speak, Vees," Tamlin commanded.

Vees looked to Tamlin, to Cale, and said, "Very well. My family trades with the Shadovar of Shade Enclave."

He tried to look embarrassed but Cale saw through it.

"The Shadovar?" Tamlin exclaimed. "How? What kind of trading ties?"

Vees said, "A Shadovar trade emissary contacted me while I was in Waterdeep taking the rites. They wanted dressed stone-marble and the like-so we supplied it. The relationship grew from there. It has been quite lucrative."

"The Shadovar?" Tamlin said, sounding more intrigued than appalled. He glanced at Cale, at Cale's shadowhand, and returned his gaze to Vees. "Why have you never spoken of this before?"