The Sentinel

CHAPTER 10

The plain ahead was rolling like a sea before a storm, actually rising and falling and rising again in a slow undulating rhythm that made Joelle’s mount skittish and her stomach queasy. The ground smelled of damp earth and rotting vegetation, and a pale green stubble of new growth rose through a mat of dead feather grass drowned by the Great Rain of a few months before. The sky hung low and golden between two mountain chains, with wisps of darkness and fire creeping across it in a never-ending battle for control of the heavens.

The world was on the cusp of a painful rebirth, and all across Toril, Chosen just like Joelle were fighting to decide the nature of that rebirth-whether it would bring forth the life-giving radiance of the gods of hope and love or let loose the living Hells of the lords of fire and darkness. She knew it was the outcomes of all of those thousands of battles that would determine whether the world to come was a place ruled by Lathander’s hope-bringing light or Umberlee’s storming rage or Cyric’s truth-eating madness, but Joelle could not help feeling that her own fight was the most important, that if she and her companions failed to deliver the Eye to Grumbar’s temple, then the Mistress of the Night would rule supreme forever.

And that responsibility terrified her. The unacknowledged daughter of a Berduskan lord, Joelle had been little more than an unrepentant jewel thief until a year earlier, when a threat against her beauty had prompted her to join the Church of Sune. Soon after, she had awoken one morning with flame-red hair and an innate ability to charm and heal. Then she’d had visions of a misshapen eye of badly sculpted quartz, and now here she was, in the middle of a quest to stop Shar from loosing the Shadowfell across Toril.

Fortunately, Sune had sent Kleef Kenric to help her.

After the escape from Yder’s sea monster, Kleef had rowed the skiff ten leagues to shore and led his companions to a road. A few hours later, they had come across a caravan preparing to camp for the night, and a short demonstration of his fighting prowess had won the entire party a place in their company.

That had been eight days ago, and now Kleef was riding flank guard. Mounted on a huge courser and wearing an expensive suit of filigreed armor, he looked more like an elite mercenary knight than a common traveler earning his passage with his sword-which was no doubt why the caravan master had been so eager to lend him the horse and equipment. Even without the other guards arrayed around the column, Kleef cut such an imposing sight that Joelle felt certain he would give pause to any common band of thieves.

She glanced up at the mottled crimson disk that was the midday sun, then reached up to mop the dampness from her brow.

“Amaunator must be winning the godfights today,” she said, glancing over at Malik. Like Joelle herself, the little man held the leads of a five-horse pack-string in one hand and the reins of his own mount in the other. “I’m ready to melt.”

“Indeed. Faroz is a foolish oaf for making us ride in the heat of the day.” Malik pointed east toward the Aphrunn Mountains, where a crooked line of trees marked the river that snaked along the base of the range. “In my own kingdom, we would be resting in the shade of those trees, watering our camels and feasting on dates until the coolness of evening.”

“And in your country, would a band of orcs be lurking among those trees, waiting to ambush your caravan the instant it entered the wood?”

“Never in a hundred years,” Malik replied. His round face had turned red and blotchy, and he smelled of death more strongly than usual. “The orcs would be resting, too. In my kingdom, everyone rests at highsun.”

Joelle laughed. “Then you must come from a very civilized country.” She looked back toward Kleef and-ignoring the fact that he was still sitting tall and straight in the saddle-said, “I think Kleef is beginning to slump. He must be growing thirsty.”

“If the oaf is thirsty, he will drink,” Malik replied. “Even Kleef is not such a fool that he has trouble finding his own lips.”

“I think his waterskin must be empty,” Joelle said. “He hasn’t lifted it in the last hour. I’ve been watching him.”

Malik’s voice grew bitter. “I have no doubt.”

Joelle turned to find her fellow Chosen glaring in Kleef’s direction, his eyes filled with a smoky hatred that made her wonder what intentions the little man might be harboring for his “rival.”

“Malik!” she scolded. “What did I tell you about jealousy?”

“That jealousy is the first refuge of a selfish heart,” Malik recited. “But I am not jealous of the fool. I am only weary of watching you pursue the one man in Faerûn unwilling to be yours.”

Joelle frowned. “Who says he’s unwilling?”

“He does, every time you throw yourself at him,” Malik said. “You have gone to him eighty times in eight days, and the fool has not come to you once. If that is willing, then I am a cloud giant.”

Joelle sighed. Malik was not exaggerating much. She had been trying to recapture Kleef’s heart since before they joined the caravan, always making sure that she was the one to bring him food and drink, asking for his help with little tasks she could have performed herself, sometimes even joining him on watch. His reaction was always friendly but restrained, an obvious attempt to hold her at arm’s length.

Joelle knew he wanted her. She could see that much in the way the veins in his neck pulsed as she drew near, in how the air grew musky and warm after she smiled at him. But whenever she tried to move close, he was careful to hold himself apart, and whenever she tried to lock eyes with him, he always looked away the instant their gazes began to smolder.

Finally, she nodded to Malik. “I know how it looks,” she said. “But Kleef is ready to fall in love with me. I can feel it. There’s just something that holds him back.”

“Perhaps that something is another woman.”

“Lady Arietta?” Joelle shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. It would never occur to Kleef to pursue a Cormyrean noblewoman-and Arietta would never invite him to.”

Malik shrugged. “What does that have to do with their feelings?” he asked. “If what you say is true, Kleef has feelings for you and refuses to pursue them. Perhaps his feelings for Arietta are the reason.”

Joelle thought for a moment, then let out her breath. “It’s possible, I suppose,” she said. “Arietta is quite beautiful.”

“And do not overlook the temptation of forbidden fruit,” Malik added. “A heart wants most what it can never have. On that account alone, Kleef and Arietta are a perfect match. They can lust after each other from afar-and feed their noble pride by resisting their desires.”

“And that doesn’t strike you as terribly sad, Malik?”

“The world is a sad place,” Malik replied. “And Myrkul’s embrace is the only true escape-”

“Sune’s love is a pretty good escape, too.” Joelle hated to be rude, but the Myrkul refrain was a familiar one, and she had a problem to solve. She glanced back toward Kleef, then added, “And it’s my duty to make certain Kleef understands that.”

“Foolish me,” Malik replied. “I thought our duty was to deliver the Eye of Gruumsh to Grumbar’s Temple in the Underchasm.”

“Exactly,” Joelle said, still watching Kleef. His helmet was turned slightly toward the treeline, though his loose shoulders and relaxed posture suggested that he was not alarmed by what he was watching. “And when we do, it must be in the company of someone who is utterly in love and totally devoted to me. That’s the only way Sune’s magic will work to bind Grumbar here on Toril.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?” Malik complained. “I could have saved you the embarrassment of trying to win a fool’s heart. I have been in love with you since the moment you nearly put my eye out in Lundeth.”

“Malik, spying on someone through a keyhole isn’t love,” Joelle said. “It’s … appalling.”

“It would be a tragedy to hold that against me,” Malik countered. “I was only trying to see whether you were the woman I had been sent to help, and now I am utterly devoted to you-just as you require.”

“What a sweet thing to say.” Joelle reached over to pat Malik’s cheek. Despite the heat, his flesh felt cold and spongy. “But you’re not.”

Malik’s expression fell. “Not as you require?”

“Not devoted,” Joelle replied. “You couldn’t be.”

“How can you know what is in a man’s heart?” Malik demanded. “I’m as devoted to you as I am to my own god.”

“Malik, you’re bearing the Eye of Gruumsh,” Joelle reminded him. “If you were capable of any devotion at all, you couldn’t do that. The Eye would destroy you before you had carried it a hundred leagues.”

“You would not be the first to underestimate me.” Malik’s voice grew menacing. “Every woman who has ever forsaken me has come to regret it.”

Joelle felt her jaw drop. “Are you threatening me, Malik?”

“Never in a thousand lifetimes!” While Malik’s tone was apologetic, his gaze remained ominous. “But I will not let you make a mistake you will surely regret for the rest of your life. I am too devoted to allow that.”

Joelle hesitated, biting back a pointed reply. She disliked nothing more than being patronized, but the last thing she needed was for Malik to turn angry and resentful. She took a deep breath, then cocked her head and pretended to study him.

“Are you truly that devoted, Malik?” Joelle finally asked. “You would die for me?”

“Die?”

“You said you were devoted,” Joelle reminded him. “Aren’t you?”

Malik hesitated. “Would dying truly be necessary?”

“I’m afraid so.” Joelle was careful to sound disappointed. “When we deliver the Eye, someone must die for his beloved. It’s the only way Sune’s magic will be strong enough to bind Grumbar.”

Malik looked doubtful. “My devotion knows no bounds,” he said. “But I fear my own god requires me among the living.”

Joelle put on an apologetic smile. “Then I’m sorry, Malik,” she said. “You can’t be the one.”

To Joelle’s surprise, Malik did not continue arguing or even express any skepticism. Instead, he merely studied her for a moment-then looked almost panic-stricken.

“You are telling the truth!”

Joelle nodded. “Of course.” She stretched out her arm, holding out her pack horse leads. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking,” Malik said, ignoring the leads. “I have been dead before, and my god left me to wander the Fugue Plane for a hundred years. I cannot name all the horrors I endured-devils attempting to cheat me out of my soul, serpents trying to eat it, fiends seeking to enslave it. Would you ask that of someone you love?”

“Never.” Joelle paused, then added, “And I shouldn’t have to ask it of someone who loves me.”

When Malik seemed too confused to reply, Joelle leaned across the space between their mounts and pressed the leads into his hand.

“It has to be Kleef,” she said, speaking more gently. “Count yourself lucky.”

Giving him no chance to continue the argument, Joelle wheeled her mount out of line and started toward Kleef at a trot. The caravan was spread along the road for a good quarter league, a double column of skittish beasts and nervous riders traveling along at a brisk pace. Most of the beasts were horses and most of the riders were swarthy humans, but there were a few mules and oxen-and even a handful of camels-mixed into the line as well. Near the middle of the column rode a small company of bronze-skinned eladrin, mounted on a white chargers with ivory manes and eyes as dark as obsidian. Although the eladrin tended to be aloof both while traveling and in camp, they never failed to acknowledge Joelle whenever she passed near.

She returned their nods with a smile, then caught Arietta watching her from the front of the column. Mounted on a golden palomino that Faroz had traded her for a gem pried from her sword scabbard, she was traveling with a small cluster of nobles who always rode at the head of the column. In the evenings, however, she returned to make camp with her traveling companions, recounting all she had learned by chatting with Faroz and her fellow nobles. It was an odd arrangement, but one that had provided a great deal of information on the various routes to the Underchasm-along with a fair idea of the hazards the companions could expect to face along the way and the hope that they might find help from the fey creatures of the Chondalwood.

With more than a hundred paces of undulating ground still separating Joelle from the front of the caravan, it was difficult to tell exactly where Arietta’s eyes were focused. But it was possible to see the noblewoman’s head turning as she looked toward Kleef, then back again, and Joelle began to think that Malik just might be right about the temptation of forbidden fruit.

Arietta dipped her head in an exaggerated motion that reminded Joelle of a sportsman wishing luck to an opponent, a gesture that was less than permission and yet an acknowledgment that they both wanted the same thing-Kleef’s devotion.

And that was the whole problem with the noble class, as far as Joelle was concerned. They didn’t know how to share. They were always hoarding-the land around their castles, the game in their forests, even the hearts of their men. They longed to own all they saw-and from the balconies atop their keeps, they saw very far indeed. It was a soul-crushing way of life, and one Joelle was sad to see someone as courageous Arietta had embraced.

She returned Arietta’s nod with one of her own, then looked away and trotted her mount the rest of the way to Kleef’s side. He waited until she was almost within arm’s reach, then reluctantly turned to greet her.

“Back already?” His mouth smiled, but his eyes did not. “Malik talking too much again?”

“Malik always talks too much.” Joelle reached down and took the waterskin off her saddle, then offered it to him. “I just wanted to be sure you had water.”

“Thanks.”

Kleef took the skin, then opened the top and tipped his head back to drink. It wasn’t until he’d held the position for a few moments that Joelle realized nothing was coming out. He was pinching the neck shut, and his eyes were watching the tree line instead.

“What’s wrong?” Joelle asked.

“Orcs,” Kleef said, finally lowering the waterskin. “A lot of them. I think they’re gathering a horde to hit us.”

Joelle’s heart climbed into her throat, but-knowing that the orc scouts would be watching them-resisted the temptation to study the trees. “How soon?”

“Hard to say,” Kleef said. “They’ll come at night, so it depends on a lot of things-where we camp, what the sky is like, whether we look ready to fight.”

“In other words, at the worst possible time.” Joelle hesitated, not really wanting to ask the next question, but knowing she must. “What about the Shadovar?”

“I haven’t seen any,” Kleef said. “But they’re out there. They must be.”

“You don’t think they could have gone after the Wave Wyvern and lost the battle?”

“No,” Kleef said. “Seasilver’s men were in no shape to fight. If Yder had caught up to the Wyvern, he would have lost a few blades-but it wouldn’t have been the Shadovar who ended up massacred.”

Knowing that any words of reassurance about Jang’s fate would ring hollow at best, Joelle said, “Then I hope Yder didn’t go after the Wyvern. Jang is a good man.”

Kleef nodded. “And a clever one. If there’s anyone who can get the Wyvern back to Westgate without a fight, it’s Jang.” He paused, then offered a sly grin. “Besides, I can’t see Yder wanting to chase down the Wyvern-not when he knew he would have to take Grand Duchess Elira hostage again.”

Joelle smiled. “She’s really that bad?”

“Even for a noble,” Kleef said. “I pity Jang, if he’s still alive.”

Joelle chuckled, then grew more serious. “So, if Yder is out there, why hasn’t he come for us again? Is he waiting for the orcs to attack?”

Kleef’s expression grew clouded. “That’s part of it,” he said. “This is a big caravan, and that means a hard fight with plenty of magic. It would make sense to use the orc attack as a diversion.”

“And the other part?” Joelle asked.

Kleef glanced back toward the tree line. “Me, I think,” he said. “He’s still coming to me in my dreams-usually three or four times a night. I think he’s trying to wear me down.”

Joelle cocked an eyebrow. She knew that Yder had been visiting Kleef in his dreams since the night he had offered to trade for Joelle and Malik. But she hadn’t realized the visits were that frequent-or that Kleef found them quite so troubling.

“Wear you down, how?” Joelle asked. “By keeping you from sleeping?”

Kleef continued to study the tree line as it rose and fell, then finally said, “Something else. He wants me to steal the Eye for him.”

Joelle fell silent, trying to fathom the idea of even asking one of Helm’s Chosen to betray his companions. The thought would have been laughable, had anything the Shadovar ever did been quite what it seemed. Either Yder was working at something else or he didn’t realize who Kleef was.

Or maybe the Shadovar were just that desperate.

“Good,” Joelle said, forcing a smile. “That’s very good news, indeed.”

Kleef shot her a suspicious scowl. “I don’t see how.”

“Because it means Yder still can’t find the Eye on his own,” Joelle said. “He hasn’t figured out how we’re hiding it.”

Kleef seemed to relax a little. “You think so?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Joelle flashed a playful smile. “If Yder knew how to find the Eye, we’d all be dead by now.”

Kleef laughed heartily. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “Maybe Yder will protect us from the orcs.”

Kleef sealed the waterskin again, but instead of passing it back to Joelle, he exchanged it for the one hanging from his saddle and passed that one over. It was even heavier than the skin she had given him, and it took a moment for her to realize he was trying to make her visit look like a routine water delivery.

“Who are you trying to fool?” she asked. “The shades or the orcs?”

“It would be nice to fool both,” Kleef said. “But I’ll settle for the orcs.”

“And trading waterskins will keep them from wondering what I’m doing out here?”

“That’s the idea,” he said. “Orcs are hunters, and hunters notice the little things.”

“I suppose so.” Realizing the same scouts had probably been watching when she came out to flirt earlier, Joelle hung the waterskin on her saddle and continued to ride at Kleef’s side-just as she had done two hours before. “Should I pass a warning along?”

“I wouldn’t,” Kleef said. “If people start getting nervous, the orcs will see that.”

“So?”

“So then the orcs get nervous,” Kleef said. “Maybe they attack too soon, before we have a chance to find good ground.”

“That makes sense,” Joelle said. She glanced over at the wall of leaves that was the distant tree line, then wondered how Kleef could see anything sneaking through the woods beyond. “There’s just one problem. It we don’t tell anyone there are orcs shadowing us, how does Faroz know to look for good ground?”

A smug look came to Kleef’s face. “That’s where you come in,” he said. “You’re spending more time with me than with your pack-string. Soon enough, Faroz will send a man over to chase you back to your horses.”

“And you’ll tell him about the orcs,” Joelle surmised.

“Right,” Kleef said. “And all the orcs will see is a caravan master trying to keep trail discipline.”

“Interesting plan.” Joelle hesitated, then added, “But maybe we should try something simpler.”

“You don’t think they’ll buy it?” Kleef asked. “Orcs aren’t that smart, you know.”

“The orcs aren’t the problem,” Joelle said. “It’s Faroz. He won’t be sending anyone to chase me back.”

“He won’t?” Kleef lowered his brow. “Why not?”

Joelle smiled and batted her lashes-and saw the suspicion in Kleef’s face change to understanding.

“Oh,” he said. “Did you really need to charm him?”

“Yes, if I want to spend any time with you,” Joelle said. “You’re always on guard duty.”

“Because I’m a guard,” Kleef said. “But I’m never out of earshot.”

“And I’m sure you’ll arrive in time to staunch the bleeding.” Joelle lowered her voice. “But that’s not what I was talking about, and you know it.”

An uncomfortable note came to Kleef’s voice. “I do?”

“Yes,” Joelle said. “In fact, Faroz loaned me a tent. I was hoping you might help me set it up tonight.”

The color began to rise in Kleef’s cheeks. “I can help you set it up,” he said. “But then I have guard duty.”

“Not all night, I trust.”

Joelle was practically purring now, but Kleef was looking away, allowing his gaze to roam over the plain in a manner that suggested a certain faintness of heart. She couldn’t decide whether to be offended or flattered-but she was definitely confused.

When her invitation continued to go unanswered, Joelle finally broke the silence. “Kleef, I need to ask you a question. Have you never shared yourself with a woman?”

Kleef’s eyes grew as round as coins. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’ve been with women. Many times!”

“You don’t have to snap,” Joelle said. “I just thought that as one of Helm’s Chosen, you might have taken a vow of celibacy. Or something.”

“Why would I do that?” Kleef’s voice remained sharp. “I’m not even sure that I am one of Helm’s Chosen. You’re the one who keeps saying that.”

“But I’m not the only one who believes it,” Joelle said. “Why do you think Yder keeps coming after you? He knows who’s protecting us.”

Kleef sighed. “All right, I’m Helm’s Chosen,” he said. “What does that have to do with being celibate?”

“I don’t know,” Joelle admitted. “But you’ve been avoiding me.”

Kleef’s expression finally softened. “A little bit.”

“Why would you do that?” Joelle was genuinely hurt, because-as much as she needed Kleef to love her-she already loved Kleef. “I thought we had feelings for each other.”

“We do,” Kleef said. “And they make it hard to keep my mind on my duty.”

Joelle frowned. “You’re avoiding me because I distract you?”

“You’re more than a distraction, Joelle, and you know it.” Kleef’s voice grew almost ashamed. “Back at the reef, when Yder’s sea monster took out the Lonely Roamer, I went after you first.”

“Kleef, you can’t be upset with yourself for that,” Joelle said. “The fog was thick and the situation confused. Arietta was doing fine, and just because she happens to be nobility-”

“No, it wasn’t because I went after you before Arietta,” Kleef said. “Malik was in trouble, and Arietta wanted to go after him because he had the Eye. But I went after you first, and she had to jump in to save Malik. I chose you over duty.”

“You chose … me.” Joelle felt her stomach drop, for she knew what Kleef was about to tell her-that he could not be hers and remain true to his god-and he was right. It would have been a terrible failure for any follower of Helm to put his own desires before his duty. But for a Chosen of Helm … well, that had only happened because of who Joelle was, because of the power imbued in her as a Chosen of Sune. “And now, you’re choosing duty.”

Kleef nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But if I am a Chosen of Helm, I have no choice.”

“Don’t be silly, Kleef. You always have a choice.” Joelle kissed her fingers and touched them to his cheek. “But you’re making the right one.”

Kleef’s face brightened with relief. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Better than you know.” Joelle forced a smile. “Duty first. Even heartwarders understand that.”

Joelle turned her horse away and started toward the front of the column, where Arietta was riding with Faroz and her fellow nobles.

After all, someone needed to tell Faroz about the orcs.