Masquerades

Six Alliances

As Alias struggled to overcome the surprise of meeting Olive Ruskettle, and the shock of discovering that the halfling had pulled a blade on her, Olive took advantage of her. The halfling bard, with a practiced up-and-down jerk of her wrist, was able to bring her short blade to the outside of the human woman’s sword, and with a quick push downward, strengthened by her own weight, was able to smash Alias’s hand and blade into the top of the crate. Pain shot down Alias’s arm, and she jerked backward.

“Olive! What do you think you are doing?” Alias growled as she swung with the flat of her blade, trying to swat the halfling on her legs.

“Same as you, I should think,” the halfling replied, parrying Alias’s blow and delivering a quick, shallow thrust. “Fighting for the good guys!”

Alias extended her sword and lunged, startling Olive into a step backward. Alias leaped onto the top of the stack of crates. “Have you gone crazy?” she upbraided the halfling. “Suppose someone sees you’ve pulled out live steel and decides to follow your example? You want the pier bathed in blood?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Olive said, looking momentarily repentant, but then she shrugged. “No. Everyone else is still going at it with fisticuffs. The only person paying any attention to us is that cute Dhostar lackey in the riding boots.”

Alias half turned her head and caught a glimpse of Victor, standing back from the fray. With Alias’s attention distracted, Olive smacked the swordswoman on the shoulder with the flat of her blade.

“Verily, a touch,” the halfling squealed.

Alias whirled around, furious. Her chain mail had absorbed most of the blow, but she was sure to have a bruise. “That is quite enough,” she snapped. She slid her blade back down along the halfling’s until they were once again hilt to hilt. With her left hand she grabbed Olive’s wrist and squeezed.

“Hey, that hurts,” the halfling complained.

“Release your weapon,” Alias demanded.

“Well, since you feel so strongly about it,” Olive replied, and she opened the hand that held the hilt of her sword.

Alias grabbed the shorter blade with her left hand and turned the blade’s tip on the owner’s throat. “Now, you’re going to behave,” she ordered “until this thing is sorted out.”

“Okay,” the halfling replied with a meek smile, but a moment later she added, “Oops, too late. Fight’s over.”

Behind her Alias heard a high-pitched whistle that she recognized as Dragonbait’s. Alias turned to find the saurial, his scales glistening with water, standing on the pier beside the halfling who had fallen into the harbor. The small servant was sodden, but uninjured.

The others on the pier had also turned at Dragonbait’s bidding, pausing for just a moment from their aggressions.

That pause was all Victor needed. The merchant strode to the wet halfling’s side, shouting, “Please, stop fighting. This gentle being has rescued House Thalavar’s shipping clerk. Should you continue this pointless brawl, we will have to call out the watch.”

The combatants remained frozen, certain that they did not want to be hauled in by the watch, but uncertain that they should abandon the fight just yet. All halfling eyes were on the Thalavar family’s shipping clerk.

The wet halfling glared up at the Dhostar heir. “What about my ruined clothes?” he demanded, indicating his soaked velvet tabard and breeches.

“I will be glad to make reparations,” Victor replied, “once you’ve apologized for insulting my family’s ship.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was your ship, milord. I can see now it’s a bonny little craft,” the halfling replied cheerfully. Then he added, “But our ship still beat it into the harbor and was at this pier first.”

“Agreed,” Victor said.

The Thalavar shipping clerk smiled broadly. Then he turned angrily on his own workers and shouted at them like a drill sergeant. “What do you think you’re doing? I didn’t hire any of you to brawl on the docks! You’re supposed to be hauling crates to the deck!”

The halflings scurried back aboard their ship. Two of Dhostar’s men helped Brunner to his feet. The big man was quite disheveled, and his nose was bleeding, but then several of the halflings sported black eyes and bleeding noses.

“They got here first only because they cut our ship off in the channel,” Brunner growled.

Victor replied with an insistent patience, “But they did get here first. They have first access to the inspector.” There was a hint of warning in his tone.

Brunner scowled and shook off the two men who’d helped him rise.

“Is that understood, Brunner?” Victor asked.

“Yes, milord,” the human servant replied grudgingly. He turned and stomped back aboard his ship.

“Is that what this is all about? Who’s next in line?” Alias hissed to Olive, astonished at the nonsensical reasons people chose to fight one another.

“Yeah,” Olive whispered back. “Thalavar’s ship had right of way, but Dhostar wouldn’t yield. Thalavar’s sails stole Dhostar’s wind, though, and went whipping past. Dhostar nearly grounded out on a sandbar. They just can’t stand giving up anything to a halfling.”

“That doesn’t explain why in the Gray Waste you pulled a sword on me,” Alias growled.

The halfling took her sword from Alias and sheathed it. “It was all for show. The Dumpster’s—excuse me, the Dhostar’s—minions have to be shown they can’t go around stepping on Thalavar halfling toes whenever they want. I had to draw you off before you kicked the Thalavar halflings’ butts. And now Dhostar’s people’ll remember there was a Thalavar halfling who took on Alias the Sell-Sword. They won’t remember which halfling, since they can’t seem to tell us apart, so they’ll have to be more cautious around all of us.”

Alias continued to glare at Olive as she sheathed her own weapon.

“Honestly, you shouldn’t take it so personally,” Olive insisted. “I swung high. I used the flat of my blade. You know I could have hit you if I’d been meaning to.”

Alias harrumphed, but then, with a grin creeping onto her face, she replied, “It’s true, Olive. You never missed a target with its back turned to you.” She sat down, slid off the crates to the pier, and turned about to give Olive a hand down. The halfling took her hand and jumped down.

“Thank you,” the halfling said as she fussily rearranged her cloak.

“You didn’t used to be so gracious about accepting help,” Alias recalled.

“The knees are getting old, my dear,” the bard replied.

Victor finished making financial arrangements with the Thalavar shipping clerk, then he and Dragonbait joined the two women.

Victor bowed to Olive. “Mistress Ruskettle, I’m Victor Dhostar. Thalavar’s shipping clerk just told me who you were. I’m so pleased to meet you. Please, excuse this unpleasantness. Brunner and his people tend to be …” Victor searched for the words.

“Less polite to people who aren’t like them,” Olive supplied.

Victor nodded with a sad smile. “Very provincial, I’m afraid. I hope Lady Nettel will forgive this unfortunate incident.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t hold you responsible, Lord Victor,” Olive replied with a gracious smile. “And may I say, I’m pleased to meet you as well. It’s so refreshing to meet someone whose attitudes are more cosmopolitan.”

Victor smiled and said, “I’d appreciate any help in making sure that relationships between the Thalavars and Dhostars and their peoples run smoothly. If you have any other problems, please feel free to contact me.” He held out a hand.

Olive shook the merchant’s hand briefly.

“Well, now. I’m afraid I must ask you to excuse me. There is some paperwork I must examine aboard my ship.” He turned to Alias. “I should only be a few minutes,” he explained.

Alias nodded. “We’ll wait,” she said.

“He’s not only cute, he’s quite a charmer,” Olive said once Victor was out of earshot. “If he could bottle that, he could double his family’s fortune.”

“Yes, he is charming,” Alias agreed. “But enough about him,” she snapped. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in Westgate.”

“Hello, Dragonbait,” the halfling greeted the saurial. “You’re looking well. How’re CopperBloom and the hatchlings?”

Dragonbait signed in the thieves’ hand cant, Very well, thank you. It’s always a surprise to see you. What are you doing in Westgate?

“I’ve agreed to help out Lady Nettel of House Thalavar,” the halfling replied. “Lady Nettel does a lot of trading with the halflings of the Shining South and hires a lot of them to run her business. She tends to trust halflings since the Night Masks don’t accept us in their guild. Lady Nettel won’t have anything to do with the Night Masks, and since she refuses to pay protection, her ships and warehouses get robbed or vandalized more than anyone else’s, and a lot of her halfling workers are getting hurt in the process.”

“So you came here as a hired sword?” Alias asked.

Olive shook her head. “I started out teaching music to Her Ladyship’s granddaughter. I’ve sort of moved into an advisory position, trying to keep security tight enough so no more halflings get hurt, and so the Masks will decide we’re too difficult a target and leave us be. Of course, I still keep my sword ready at all times. We’ll probably be working together now that you’re going after the Masks.”

Alias’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Lord Dhostar made me a job offer only an hour ago. How did you find out?”

“Picked it up on the street,” Olive said.

“Mistress Ruskettle!” the Thalavar shipping clerk called out.

“Just a minute, Drew,” she responded. “Look, I have to attend to some things. You can reach me at House Thalavar.”

Olive joined the Thalavar shipping clerk, and the pair escorted the customs inspector aboard the Thalavar ship.

Alias gave a mock shudder. “Olive as a respectable member of the community. The Time of Troubles was less confusing.”

“Aye,” Dragonbait agreed.

“So, what do you think?” Alias asked the paladin.

“About what?”

“Should we accept Dhostar’s offer?”

Dragonbait sighed. He ran his fingertips down the tattoo on her right arm, the tattoo that had first bound them together. “Alias, you must make this decision for yourself,” he said. “You have many reasons to remain. Although you did not really grow up here, Finder put it in your heart to feel it was home. You still need to try to discover why he choose Jamal’s face as that of your memory mother. Olive is here. You could sing together again. And, of course, I know you would thrive on challenging the Night Masks.”

Alias bit her lower lip and fought back a wave of sadness. Dragonbait had been her companion from the day she’d been created. He was more a father to her than Finder had been. “But you’re leaving Westgate, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I wish to return home to CopperBloom and my family. I don’t expect you to feel obligated to return with me, and I don’t want you to feel you cannot stay without me. You have many friends here already. I will stay with you for ten days, whether you choose to work for the croamarkh or not. But I will not work for him.”

“Because of Kimbel?” Alias asked.

“Kimbel is part of it, yes. More importantly, I don’t think the croamarkh is worthy of my services. I will serve you, though, as best I can, while I am still here.”

Alias sniffed the air about them. Dragonbait’s emotions had perfumed it heavily with the smell of lemons and roses. “You’re both happy and sad,” she laughed.

“Parents always feel that way when they kick their children out of the nest,” Dragonbait explained. “Dhostar’s son is returning.”

Brushing a tear from her eye, Alias turned about in time to see Victor running down the gangplank of the Dhostar ship. His momentum carried him nearly into Alias. He stopped inches away from her. He stood looking down at her for a moment before he stepped back with a flush on his face. Running his fingers through his hair to brush it off his face, he made an embarrassed apology for nearly running her down.

“I don’t fall down so easily, Lord Victor,” Alias replied with a grin. “Shall we continue our stroll? Dragonbait and I were both enjoying it.”

“Yes,” Victor replied. “We should make for the Harbor Tower. There’s a spectacular view of the city from the top.”

Alias nodded, and the three left the pier and set out for the lighthouse that marked the harbor entrance. Looking south, across the harbor, the city lay spread out before them, rising from the water to the high wall. Alias could not remember seeing any other city with so magnificent a view of itself as Westgate.

“So,” Victor began, “what can I tell you to convince you to join us in our fight against the Night Masks?”

“You should tell me the truth, whether it convinces me or not,” Alias replied. With an ever so slightly flirtatious grin, she asked, “If I accept this post, will you continue to be my liaison to the croamarkh?”

“Oh, yes,” Victor said. “I’ll be the man to handle any problems for you. Father would hardly delegate this matter to Kimbel.”

“Tell me about Kimbel,” Alias said.

“Um, well.” Victor flushed. “Kimbel is—not very nice.”

“That was our impression,” Alias said, not yet prepared to explain about the saurial paladin’s shen sight. “Tell me more about him.”

“When Kimbel first came to Westgate, he called himself an adventurer. He wasn’t the sort that kills monsters in their lairs, though. He was the sort that breaks into castles and tries to kill croamarkhs.”

“He tried to kill your father?” Alias asked with astonishment.

“Yes. Poisoned all the watchdogs and got as far as father’s bedroom door, but he got unlucky and tripped on a cat. He killed eight men before the rest of the guards managed to bring him down. He claims he was hired by the Night Masks, but he didn’t know enough about them to betray them. Father decided he was too useful to waste with an execution. We had a geas cast on him. He’s magically compelled to serve our family and constrained from harming anyone with Dhostar blood or in Dhostar employ. Father expects him to complete the terms of service due us by the eight men he killed, such terms to be served consecutively.”

Victor scooped up a handful of pebbles and began tossing them in the water. “It sounds awfully creepy, I know. It is awfully creepy. He can’t break the geas, but still, he’s a killer. And there’s nothing in the geas to protect people who aren’t part of our trading house. Who knows what he does when he’s out of sight? Father says Kimbel serves as a good warning to others, though I suspect Father also keeps him near to show people he’s not afraid of assassins. I wish he wouldn’t.” Victor tossed the rest of the stones in the water all at once.

Dragonbait had been right, Alias realized. Victor was like her. He defended the croamarkh just as she had once defended Finder, defying his reason to quell his heart. She knew exactly how Victor felt, and she found herself sympathizing with the young merchant despite her dislike of his father.

They came to the end of the peninsula, which ended in a knob-shaped quay of stonework. Beneath the harbor lighthouse, guards in Westgate’s insignia patrolled the flagstone plaza in rigid geometric formations. The lighthouse was an ancient, conical tower built of mortared stone with an external staircase spiraling up its side. Sailors called it the Westlight, and “seen the Westlight” was used throughout the Inner Sea nations to mean that a person had reached land or safety.

Victor nodded to the captain of the guard, and the three were allowed to approach the lighthouse without challenge. Feeling suddenly lighthearted, Alias dashed up the structure’s stairs without stop until she reached the walkway at the top. She looked first out to the sea, letting the breeze ruffle her hair until Victor and Dragonbait finished the climb.

“Are you always so energetic?” the merchant lord asked as he stood clutching his side and gasping for breath.

Alias smiled, but did not reply. She studied the light in the center of the walkway—a polished brass framework surrounding a floating marble sphere, which, even in the daylight, shone brightly enough to be noticed far out to sea. “There’s a continual light spell cast on the marble?” the swordswoman asked.

Victor nodded. “There are also protections to keep the magic from being dispelled by accident or to keep others from destroying it. The bronze frame can be used to hold up colored screens so we can send coded messages to ships at sea—fire, plague, send help, and so on.”

Alias nodded and turned to look back out across the harbor and the city. Victor moved to stand beside her. “There’s no better place to start to get oriented.” He pointed leftward, out across the bay at various landmarks. “There’s the River Thunn. Between the river’s east bank and the city wall is Castle Malavhan. Just across the river from that is Castle Vhammos. It was once the royal castle. Those four clustered due south of us are Castles Guldar, Athagdal, Thorsar and Urdo. They were all built at the same time by rival architects from different nations.

“The building in the center of the market is called the Tower. It serves as the city’s registry and headquarters for the watch. The jail is in the dungeon beneath the Tower. Against the western wall is Castle Ssemm. South of that is Castle Thalavar. In the northeast corner, by the sea, is the Temple to Talos, and to the west of the Tower is the Temple to Mask. At the base of the harbor’s arm are the temples to Loviatar and Gond, and just west of them is the Temple to Ilmater.”

“You’ve pointed out the castles of all the merchant families but your own,” Alias noted.

“Castle Dhostar isn’t in the city. We’re latecomers to the city, here for only three generations. When Father decided to build our family’s castle, he decided it was more important to use the land we owned in the city for our warehouses. So we built out to the west. You can see how the city’s starting to expand in that direction beyond the walls.”

“Can you see your castle from here?” Alias asked.

Victor put his hands on Alias’s shoulders and turned her to face westward. Dragonbait’s tail twitched nervously. Alias did not like being touched by strangers. To the paladin’s surprise and relief, she did not shake off the young man’s hands or growl at him.

Victor stood directly behind her and pointed over her shoulder. Alias looked out with attentive interest. “Follow that line of islands there, to that forested bluff. Just behind that is Castle Dhostar.”

“Yes, I can see it,” Alias said.

“I often come up here to think,” the merchant lord said. “Well, really, to dream.”

Alias leaned her head back against Victor’s chest to look up at his face. “What do you dream about?” she asked with a smile.

Victor gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I dream about what I’ll do should I find Verovan’s treasure hoard.”

“Verovan’s treasure?” Alias asked with a teasing laugh.

“Yes. About a hundred twenty years ago, Westgate was a monarchy ruled by an incompetent tyrant, King Verovan. He nearly bankrupted the city with his excesses and destroyed it with his intrigues. He fancied himself a great boatman, and challenged the other rulers of the coastal cities to a race. The city coffers couldn’t cover the cost of hiring the boat and team Verovan wanted—a windjammer with blood-red sails, crewed by Turmishmen. So Verovan passed a grain tax, clinching his unpopularity with everyone. On the day of the race—”

“On the day of the race,” Alias interrupted, “Verovan’s crew set a course for a rocky shoal, then teleported away, leaving Verovan to fend for himself. He couldn’t. The boat was wrecked on the shoals, and Verovan was presumed drowned. Some people speculated that the ‘Turmishmen’ were really Red Wizards of Thay who avenged themselves on the tyrant for his intrigues against their nation. The city’s leading merchants led a revolt before Verovan’s son could be crowned. A mob stripped the royal castle bare. The patriarch of the merchant house of Vhammos moved his family into the castle, and he and the other merchants took charge of governing the city.”

Victor gave the swordswoman a puzzled look.

“I was born in Westgate,” Alias explained with a sideways look at Dragonbait. The saurial was enjoying the view, watching a round ship from Sembia, riding low in the water, try to maneuver into a dock across the way. “I know all about Verovan. He was real. His treasure, though, is a fable, like the stories about the liches that live in Westgate’s sewers or the sea serpent that lives in its harbor.”

“You forget you’re dealing with a merchant,” Victor said. “The books, you see, do not balance. The sum total of everything removed from the royal castle does not even approach the vast amounts of wealth that ever went in. Verovan skimmed a share of every fee and tax the city ever collected, and he bought valuable pieces of magic and art that disappeared into the castle. He never purchased anything with his own money, but with the city’s, and he left scores of debts for things he’d ‘purchased.’ ”

“So, you believe in the magic door?” Alias teased.

“What door?” Dragonbait asked.

Alias turned her attention to the saurial, who had not seemed to be paying attention to the conversation.

“There’s supposed to be an invisible bridge leading away from one of the castle’s towers,” the swordswoman explained to the saurial. “On the other side of the invisible bridge, there’s supposed to be to an invisible portal. Verovan’s hoard is supposed to be behind that portal.” With a darker tone, Alias concluded, “Guarded by fearsome monsters. No sage, mage, or priest has been able to find it, though it’s said that the Watch has on occasion found a body lying at the base of one or other of the castle’s towers.”

“I’ll remember, when I find the treasure, that you were a disbeliever,” Victor threatened with a grin.

Alias laughed again. “So, in your daydreams, what do you do with this hoard of wealth when you find it?”

Victor turned away and looked back across the city. “I make Westgate the greatest city in the Realms,” he answered with vehemence. “Greater even than Waterdeep. Clear out the Night Masks so people can stroll the streets at night. Build a second city wall farther out so people can expand their businesses and households. Build a navy so we can protect our ships from pirates. Build a library so scholars would come here to live, and an opera house to bring in bards and musicians. Run irrigation to the lands south of the city, with water from the River Redden, so we never have to worry about droughts.”

“They all sound like good plans,” Alias said.

“Yes.” Then he looked back at her with a sly smile and said, “Of course, if a certain someone, who was, after all, born in Westgate, would agree to help my father and me, I wouldn’t have to discover Verovan’s treasure first to get rid of the Night Masks.”

Alias chuckled at the smooth way the merchant had shifted the conversation back to his father’s offer of employment. “Well, since a certain someone doesn’t think you’ll be finding that treasure anytime soon,” Alias replied, “and does think you should do something about the Night Masks in the meantime, I guess that someone had better agree to help out.”

Victor turned about and grasped both of Alias’s hands in his own. “You’ll help, then? That’s wonderful. Father will be so pleased. He won’t show it, but he will be pleased.”

“And you, Lord Victor?” Alias asked. “Are you pleased?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” The young merchant squeezed her hands to emphasize his point, then released them suddenly, flushing with the realization of the liberty he’d taken. “And Dragonbait?” he asked suddenly, turning to the saurial. “You’ll help, too?”

“Tell him what we agreed,” the paladin said to Alias.

“Dragonbait must return north soon,” Alias explained. “He won’t be working for the croamarkh, but he will help me until he goes.”

“I see, “Victor replied. “Well, I’m grateful for all the time you can give us,” the merchant said to the saurial.

Dragonbait nodded politely.

A shiver ran down Alias’s back. Even though, as Dragonbait had pointed out, she had other friends here, in her whole life she had never been long separated from the paladin. She studied Victor’s face as he took one last look over the city, and felt slightly reassured. With the earnest, handsome merchant lord as one of those friends, Westgate might not only be less lonely but more exciting. Still, a sense of dread lingered in the pit of her stomach. In her first year of life, she’d defeated many powerful and evil beings, yet Dragonbait had always been there to back her up. Now, she realized, she had just possibly committed herself to battling the Night Masks alone.