The Ruby Guardian

CHAPTER 17

"Your companions have been taken away, hauled out of the forest in great wooden box-wagons," Shinthala said, seated in the middle of the great rock, facing the fire pit. "They were bound for the city of Reth itself." Everyone began talking at once. Vambran sucked his breath in. At any other time, he would have believed that his soldiers were being treated like any other prisoners of war, and that, in time, they would be released, once the temple funded their ransom. But knowing that Lavant was somehow behind the series of events in the area changed his perceptions dramatically. There was no doubt in his mind that the priest wanted him and Kovrim dead. If what the lieutenant and Shinthala had deduced was true, then the company, and Kovrim, were still in danger.

And now they're farther out of reach, while I've dallied in the woods.

Vambran and Shinthala had returned from their tryst in the forest after highsun, and she had ordered the release of the other members of the Sapphire Crescents. That had caused some consternation among the other druids, especially Edilus, but she had been adamant. Then they had all gathered together upon the great rock, druids and mercenaries together, to decide what must be done.

"I have to get inside the city," Vambran said then repeated himself loudly to quiet the din of so many voices talking at once. "I have to save my uncle. They will kill him to keep him from revealing what he knows. All of them will be slain to preserve the illusion that we died at sea or in battle, the victims of piracy or simple warfare. I have to go to them."

Shinthala shook her head. "No," she said. "You have a greater duty. You must return to Arrabar and let your people know what is happening. You must find proof that Lord Wianar is manipulating these events for his own ends, then you must show the city. Your companions are not as important as the truth."

"I cannot abandon them," Vambran said, though inside, a part of him wanted to, just so he could return to Emriana. "I cannot just leave my uncle and my troops to die there. We must find another way."

"Let us return home," Adyan said in his drawl. "We can go back to Arrabar and spread the word, and you can go to Reth."

"No," Vambran said. "My family needs me, too."

Adyan shook his head. "We'll help Em, Vambran, and with your family safe, we can stop this before Wianar marches half of Chondath east. You go to Reth. Six is no better than one against a whole city, but by yourself, you can still save them. Waukeen herself seems to smile on you."

Vambran looked at Shinthala, who nodded encouragement. "All right," he said, knowing he could not be in both places at once. "You five return home. I don't have to tell you to be careful once there. You're walking into a pit of vipers, it seems."

Adyan snorted. "And you aren't?" he said sardonically. "As long as we've known you, Lieutenant, you've done nothing but lead us into trouble." Vambran could hear the humor in his sergeant's voice, and when he looked at the man, Adyan winked.

"You know we'll find her," Horial added. "We'll get to Em in time."

Vambran took a deep breath and nodded his thanks. "In the meantime," he said, "I'm going to Reth."

Arbeenok stood then, walking to the center of the gathering from his spot on the fringe. He looked first at Shinthala, speaking to her in the language of their order. Then he turned to Vambran and said, "I wish to accompany you to the city. My divinations tell me this is right."

Vambran was taken aback, and when he looked at Shinthala, all she said was, "Arbeenok makes his own trail, even among those of the Enclave. I have learned not to question him, but to trust his visions and know that he will find his own path regardless of my efforts. If he believes he should go with you, I would take that as a boon to your journey."

"But how will we ever get him inside the walls?" Vambran asked skeptically. "He will not pass for a human, no matter how much clothing we pile on him."

At that, Shinthala laughed. "You still have much to learn of us, Son of Arrabar. Go and trust that Arbeenok will know a way to succeed."

Vambran could only shrug. When it was obvious that the lieutenant had accepted Arbeenok's proposal, the creature put a hand out to the man. Vambran took it and accepted the handshake.

Once the decision had been made, Shinthala promised Vambran aid from the Enclave, including a number of magical potions and oils that might be of use during both excursions. It did not take long for either group to pack, and soon enough, they were all saying their good-byes.

Shinthala followed Vambran and Arbeenok to the edge of the clearing, away from the rest of the druids and mercenaries. The lieutenant noticed that a look from her sent Arbeenok ahead a few paces, out of earshot. Then she turned Vambran to face her.

"The blessing of your goddess go with you, Son of Arrabar," she said, smiling wistfully at him. "I'd like to see you again, preferably alive."

Vambran nodded. "I'll try to get word back to you soon. If I can free my men, then I-"

Shinthala pressed her fingers against his mouth, quieting him. "I know all that," she said, "and my prayers go with you for success in stopping this war. But what I meant was that today, in the woods, wasn't enough." Her emerald eyes shone brightly at him, and Vambran realized it was a little more than mere lust that made them glow. "Come find me again, warrior, one way or another, when this is over." Then she turned and sped back along the path, not giving him a chance to answer.

Vambran watched her go, wondering if he would ever get the chance to fulfill that request. Then he turned and caught up with Arbeenok, and they were on their way.

The alaghi, as Arbeenok claimed his kind called themselves, traveled lightly, with little more than what Vambran had seen him carrying that morning. For his part, the lieutenant had changed out of his uniform, which was stored in a satchel he carried, and

he was wearing simple garb, that of a laborer, so as not to draw notice to himself. They spent the rest of the afternoon traveling, though they covered most of the distance by means of a portal that passed between two great oaks. Both trees-the one near the heart of the forest and the one closer to Reth-seemed at first blush to be ancient, lightning-shattered trunks, hollowed out on the inside. But Arbeenok led the lieutenant into one, and just as quickly, they were stepping out of the other. From there, it wasn't much farther to the border of the woods.

At last, they came to the edge of the forest lying alongside the road leading into Reth. Vambran crept forward the last few feet and peered out of the underbrush, screened by tall grasses. The city was not visible from that vantage point, but Shinthala had assured him that it was not much farther beyond that. Beside him, Arbeenok also peered out, studying the path in both directions.

"No one comes," he said, his voice deep but gentle. "We should continue, for darkness will fall before we reach the walls of the city."

Vambran nodded. "Well, if you have some idea how to sneak past all the gawking stares, now is the time to reveal it," Vambran said. "Once we're out on the road, you will be noticed."

Arbeenok smiled, an expression that was surprisingly human in appearance. "I will not be able to speak, but I will understand you perfectly," he said. "So it will be important for you to realize that I will be trying to communicate to you in other ways and to pay attention to me. Do you see?"

Vambran grinned, beginning to appreciate Arbeenok's company more and more. "My soldiers and I have hand signals we sometimes use for communicating on the battlefield, so I am used to such," he said.

"Good. Then let's continue our journey." And with that, he stood and began to transform right before Vambran's eyes. The alaghi dropped down to his hands and knees, and his clothing and other items seemed to melt inside his body. When the change was complete, Arbeenok was a large, yellow dog. He wagged his tail and barked once at Vambran, who only stood there grinning.

"Very clever," the lieutenant said, reaching a hand out to pat the dog. Arbeenok played the part, panting and rubbing his head against Vambran and wagging his tail all the harder. "And you can understand me, yes?" Vambran inquired. Arbeenok barked and nodded.

"Then you are a fine traveling companion," the mercenary officer said and stepped out of the brush into the open. "Let's go."

The two of them set off together, and to everyone they passed, farmers in their wagons, loggers and craftsmen, and especially soldiers setting out toward the battle lines, they looked like a peasant and his dog. They hiked along at a steady pace, and Arbeenok ran ahead periodically. Though it appeared that the mutt was simply frisky and stretching its legs, Vambran began to see the advantage of having his companion able to scout ahead.

At one point, Arbeenok came running back and grabbed at Vambran's pants leg, dragging him off the road and into the bushes. A few minutes later, a large contingent of soldiers wearing the silver raven on their tabards went marching past. Though he couldn't be certain, it was entirely possible that some of those soldiers had engaged him in fighting, and he was thankful the alaghi had had the presence of mind to help him avoid a confrontation.

As the afternoon drew on toward dusk, Reth came into view in the distance. By the time Vambran and his hound reached the gates, darkness was coming fast. The guards were preparing to close the great portals for the coming night, and Vambran had to hurry to get inside the city before they were completely shut. The guards didn't give him a second glance.

Once they were away from the main thoroughfare and moving down a smaller side street, Vambran said, "I'm taking us to the home of an old acquaintance. I haven't seen her in a year or so, but I think she will help us. Her name is Elenthia, and she runs in the right social circles to hear all the latest news and gossip, so she will know where the Crescents have been taken. Elenthia's father is a senator in the government, so if they're in the prison, she might also be able to get us inside."

Arbeenok wagged his tail by way of answer, and taking that as a sign that the alaghi thought it was a good plan, Vambran led the way to the woman's house.

Elenthia Gelterion's home was as the lieutenant remembered it, a second-story apartment above a soap and incense shop in a rather upscale area of the city. Though the Gelterion family was wealthy, she had chosen to move out of the familial estate before she was actually ready to marry, and in the intervening years, had found that she liked the life of an eligible socialite. Vambran was one of her many distractions, he knew, but he didn't mind playing that role. She was a kind-hearted woman who never expected anything more from him than an occasional dalliance.

When the mercenary and the druid arrived and knocked upon the door, Vambran said, "You ought to continue pretending to be a dog until I find a good way and time to explain to Elenthia who you really are." When Arbeenok cocked his head to one side quizzically, Vambran added, "They'll probably take you into the kitchen and feed you scraps from the evening's dinner. I will try not to take too long talking with her."

Arbeenok barked in understanding and a moment later, a servant opened the door and let them both in. Once he had been announced, Vambran did not have to wait long before Elenthia came gliding into the entryway, all glowing smiles. She was a remarkably beautiful woman, Vambran thought, reminded again when he saw her flashing amber eyes and voluminous dark hair. She was wearing a casual dressing gown, something to pad around the home in, but she looked stunning nonetheless. She hesitated when she saw the lieutenant's outfit, but the pause was barely noticeable, and she greeted him with a rather florid kiss.

"Vambran Matrell, what a surprise! What are you doing in Reth?" she asked, beaming as she led him into the parlor. "And you have a dog with you," she said with a hint of distaste. "I must say, this is not how I expected to see you again." The question of his current condition and stature hung there, hinted at but unspoken.

The lieutenant chuckled. "Many things are not as they were, Elenthia, but I am still serving with the Crescents. But this is not a social call. I have come seeking your help."

"Ooh, a call for aid," she said, teasing him, motioning for him to sit with her on a couch. "Judging from your current outfit, I would guess you don't need me to play at soldier with you," she said, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

Vambran had to grin, remembering a time not so long ago when she had playfully donned his uniform, or rather, parts of it. She had been particularly fetching in the get-up. "No," he said, banishing the thoughts before they got the better of him. "I need your connections. And it is a large favor I ask. You will need to be discrete."

"Ooh, a mystery," Elenthia said, letting her voice drop.

"I'm serious," Vambran said, letting his smile go. "This could be dangerous for you."

Elenthia sat up straighter and tried to appear serious. "Anything for you, my love," she said. "Whatever it is, I'm eager to assist you."

"Good," Vambran said. "Then I need to find out where my soldiers are. They have been brought here as prisoners."

Elenthia's expression did turn serious then, and she frowned. "Vambran, I cannot ask my father to release prisoners. To begin with, his position is not one of handling the city's defenses, and besides, that would just not be possible. I-"

The lieutenant held up his hand to stop her. "I'm not asking you anything of the sort," he said. "I simply need to know where they are. I will get them out myself."

"What? You mean you intend to try to break them out of prison?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"Vambran, you can't be serious! You'll never succeed, and they'll throw you in the dungeon right alongside your soldiers, and I will never see you again! I'm not going to help you do something mad!"

Vambran shook his head. "I don't have a choice, Elenthia. Men have taken them and intend to kill them to ensure their silence-men who are behind the war that's occurring."

Elenthia's frown deepened. "That is unfortunate," she said. "The war is bloody, and Father has stated in no uncertain terms that the senate is up in arms over the whole affair. Half the senate approves of it, and the other half-"

"Elenthia, please," Vambran pleaded. "I don't have time for this. My companions are in danger, and I have to find them right now."

The look on the woman's face broke Vambran's heart, for he realized that he had hurt her with his harsh words. But he dismissed his feelings, promising himself that he would make it up to her later. Right then, he had more important issues to attend to.

"All right," Elenthia said, rising. "Let me get properly dressed, and I will take you to see Father."

Before she was able to walk three paces, though, alarms began to sound outside in the streets. As Elenthia gasped, Vambran moved to the window to see what the commotion was about.

"That's the call to arms!" she cried, a tremor in her voice. "The city's under attack!"

"I'd really love to stay and watch all of this," Junce was saying from a distant corner of the room, "but I have to get back to Arrabar. There's some unfinished business I must take care of at the Generon involving your niece. That little Emriana's becoming quite the lovely lady, don't you think?" he said, smiling. "I believe she and I might find something suitable to talk about, a mutually enjoyable way to spend our time together "

Kovrim jerked against the bonds that held him strapped down to a table, wanting with all of his being to get his hands around the assassin's neck and throttle him. But he was completely immobilized and finally gave up, letting hopelessness begin to wash over him. The guards who had removed him from the alcove and restrained him there had disappeared, leaving him alone with Junce.

"A word of advice, though," the assassin said, crossing over to loom near Kovrim's head, a smug smile on his face. "Fight the transformation. It won't make a difference, but I can imagine the desperation you'll feel while it's happening will be truly agonizing. So resist it with everything you have, just for me."

Kovrim gave a throaty shout at the man standing over him, but Junce backed up a pace or two, spoke a phrase, and vanished. When he had gone, the old priest broke down, sobbing in his loneliness and fear. He wasn't afraid to die, but he was terrified of becoming an undead thing. Watching Hort rise up from the floor and stare with glassy, unrecognizing eyes straight ahead as he shuffled off to join the other zombies was the most difficult thing the old priest had ever had to witness.

And he knew he would be joining his longtime companion soon, transformed by the magical plague into another mindless, disease-spreading creature, part of Junce's new army. It sickened him, made him want to retch. He began to thrash again, fighting the restraints that held him on the table.

A door opened, and Kovrim twisted his head around, trying to peer in that direction to see who it was. A man strode into the chamber where he lay, but his face was hidden by a deep-cowled hood, part of a long robe he wore. There was a strange glow radiating all around the stranger, and Kovrim guessed that it was some sort of protection against infection from the plague.

"You see," the stranger said, his face turned away from Kovrim as he stood at a workbench, doing something Kovrim couldn't see, "my cousin doesn't want to have to battle the armies of Reth and the Emerald Enclave at full strength. In truth, he doesn't want to have to fight them at all. He would much rather let the ravages of disease take their toll, and Chondath can arrive with healing magic and save the day, allowing Reth to return to the fold, where it rightly belongs."

Kovrim listened to the man's cryptic words, not understanding them, but not really thinking about them, either. It was the stranger's voice that captivated him. It was vaguely familiar, someone he had known, many years ago. But he couldn't quite place it.

"Of course," the man continued, "my cousin must make certain that Chondath is not seen as having released the plague itself. That's everyone's worst fear, that Shining Arrabar will bring the Rotting Plague back. So he developed a plan. The plague would come from elsewhere, and he would be seen as a savior rather than a devil. And who better to release the plague upon a hated city than the druids of the Emerald Enclave? When they begin to track the zombies' origins and head down into the sewers, they will find the bodies of two promising young wood folk who both gave their lives so that the 'hated city folk' could be devoured in disease."

At last, the man turned to face Kovrim, holding a small alembic, which contained a thick, yellow substance. He approached where the old priest lay, holding the alembic well away from himself. "It was a long plan, a slow one, and one that I didn't have much say in," the man said. "But then, that's always the way my cousin operated, so I guess I should feel fortunate that I was included at all."

Kovrim wanted to scream, not because the man was about to pour the thick, sludgy substance onto his face-that in and of itself was too horrible to contemplate. No, the old priest's anxiety reached a fever pitch because he remembered the face, knew the man.

Slowly, as the man let a bit of the disease-ridden pus slide out of the alembic and dribble around Kovrim's mouth and nose, he lost his faculties, his mind seeking shelter by receding from consciousness.

Rodolpho Wianar finished the application of the disease to the priest and smiled.