Pool of Radiance (28 page)

Soon his hammer began to blaze a brilliant blue, and Tarl stopped, relaxed his shield and hammer, and passed through the curtain to the third square. The square of the inner sanctuary stood before him. It radiated an intense, bright blue.

Faith had never been difficult for Tarl. Tyrians practiced a hands-on kind of worship that made sense to him, and Tyr seemed infinitely believable. Pictures of him were always the same, a burly but gnarled, bearded old fellow with a hammer as big as his arm. The irony of references to his evenhandedness was that, from all accounts, he was missing one hand, and somehow that made him all the more approachable. Tarl’s strong faith had already been rewarded with exceptional healing powers for one so young.

Only now, when two people he valued, perhaps as much as his standing as a cleric, lay filled by evil, did Tarl ever question his god or his faith.

“My thoughts of Shal, Anton, and the Hammer of Tyr I give up to you, and thoughts of you, great Tyr, Grimjaws, the EvenHanded, God of War, God of Justice. I offer up my fate to your hammer and to the balances.” Tarl waited, continuing to meditate on his god.

Moments later, his hammer began to glow once more, and Tarl entered the innermost sanctuary. Each of the four walls and the vaulted ceiling were mirrors of highly polished silver. At the center of the small room was a cushioned kneeling stool with a small, covered platform before it. Tarl knelt and rested his hammer on the platform. He was surrounded by his own image—a warrior, armed and ready for battle, but completely submissive and vulnerable.

He stared at the hammer and continued to focus his thoughts on Tyr. The hammer began to radiate an even brighter light, and then it began to rise slowly from the platform as Tarl watched, his mind filled with the wisdom and thoughts of his god. The sensation was not like hearing spoken words, nor was it like the occasional shared thought between intimates. It was a flooding, a purging wave of guidance.

Tarl had no idea how long he’d been in the inner sanctuary. He had no memory of coming out. He knew only that he must find Ren immediately.

“Your daggers! We have to get them to Shal! Now!” Tarl hammered on the door and shouted to Ren again and again, but the big man was rummaging his way out of a deep sleep that had come from exhaustion, and he wasn’t comprehending what all the ruckus was about. In fact, Tarl was lucky he was pounding outside the door because Ren probably would have killed him on instinct as an intruder if he’d managed to get into the room. As it was, Ren launched both Right and Left at the closed door.

“Tyr and Tymora!” Tarl leaped back as the two dagger points pierced through to his side of the door. “Wake up, man, before you kill somebody!”

It was Ren’s own movement that finally woke him, and he slowly comprehended the source of the clamor. “Be right with you,” he muttered.

It took Tarl only a few minutes to explain that he needed to use one of the ioun stones to increase his clerical powers in an attempt to heal Shal, yet it seemed to Tarl more like hours, and longer still before they were finally back at the temple.

The clerics could not keep Shal on a cot or bed. Her body jerked with nightmares and spasms induced by the poison, so she lay on a thick cotton quilt, a soft cotton blanket that was constantly being replaced crumpled over the lower half of her body. Tarl sat on the cool stone floor beside Shal and pulled her twitching body up close to his own. He clenched a blue-black ioun stone in one hand and his hammer in the other. Tenderly he wrapped his arms tight around Shal, then began to pray as he had never prayed before. Blue light like that he had seen in the inner sanctuary blazed from the stone and the hammer. For a moment, Shal’s body jerked even more violently, and then a vile green vapor filtered up from the pores around Shal’s collarbone and dispersed into the clear morning air. Her body quieted immediately, and Shal went limp in Tarl’s arms.

“Shal? Shal!” Tarl pulled her even closer, praying to sense warmth and a firm heartbeat rather than clammy, cooling skin and silence. Suddenly strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer still, and he immersed himself in the passion of her grateful embrace.

“Glad to have you back, Shal,” said Ren, and he pulled her from Tarl for a hug of his own.

10

Yarash

“This is the rest of your treasure,” said Gensor. He watched Cadorna’s face darken as he laid out the dwarven armor and then the jewelry. He knew the councilman had killed for far less than the handful of expensive baubles before him, and Gensor had every intention of redirecting Cadorna’s attention so he wouldn’t take that route, “Not bad for a night’s work, eh? But mark my words, there are far bigger prizes to be had.”

“Oh?” Cadorna cocked his head and waited for the mage to go on.

“The woman … the mage. She took an assassin’s poison dagger in the shoulder last night. I made my exit from the inn unseen just as the brouhaha started.”

“She’s dead? It serves her r—”

“No. She lives. The Tyrian cleric—” Gensor paused for emphasis—”he used an ioun stone to heal the woman.”

“An ioun stone?” Cadorna stood up from his chair and came around in front of his desk. He had to check himself to keep from grabbing Gensor by his robes. “The cleric has an ioun stone?”

“Not his, I suspect, or I’m sure he would have left it with the temple. But, yes, he used an ioun stone. All the clerics and even some of the peasants who were worshiping in the temple early this morning saw it.”

Cadorna stood mere inches from Gensor, his eyes blazing with avarice, his thoughts turning to the first reports he had heard from the trio after their venture to Sokol Keep—about ioun stones, the Lord of the Ruins, and “power to the pool.”

Gensor went on. “This is only conjecture on my part, but as I said, I don’t think the gem could belong to the cleric.”

“Yes? So?” Cadorna actually began to tap his foot in his impatience.

“Do you remember the strong magic I detected in the big man’s boots? An ioun stone could explain that.”

“You think the stone belongs to him?”

It was Gensor’s impatience that showed now. He leaned almost nose to nose with Cadorna. “Yes… and he has two boots!”

Cadorna’s eyes widened. “You mean—”

A cloud of ocher-colored smoke puffed into the room right alongside Cadorna and Gensor. Both moved away from it, but Cadorna moved twice as far and twice as fast as Gensor. A sulfurous smell burned the nostrils of both men, and then a faint hum sounded as a short, spry, almost elflike wizard appeared in the room, his yellow-gold cape billowing with the last puffs of smoke.

“A messenger from the Lord of the Ruins,” said Gensor.

“Yes…” Cadorna acknowledged. “We’ve met.”

The messenger wasted no time. “I am here concerning a certain party of three, Councilman. You warned the Lord of the Ruins before they went to Sokol Keep, and he’s tried since to have them killed. In fact, only last night an assassin assigned to either gain their services or kill them was smashed to a pulp by the mage woman’s horse. The Lord of the Ruins wants those three dead.”

Gensor licked his thin, dry lips and swallowed. He’d had his own run-in with the horse shortly after he’d taken the jewelry and armor from the woman’s room at the inn. He had been startled at the time to find the horse loose in the streets. He figured the familiar must have bolted from the building after trampling the assassin.

The messenger went on. “Rumor has already spread that one of the three made use of an ioun stone in public. The Lord of the Ruins wants that ioun stone. He offers any item in his immense treasury in exchange for it.”

“Why so much fuss over a gemstone?” Cadorna asked coyly.

“The Pool of Radiance, of course,” said the messenger. “He needs two more stones to complete the figure of power.” The wizard hesitated a moment when he saw Cadorna’s twisted expression, but not knowing what to make of it, he continued. “At any rate, Councilman, he knows you have worked with these three before, and he would pay dearly for their heads, particularly if they were accompanied by an ioun stone. Have I made myself clear?”

“Quite clear. My thanks for the message.”

The wizard exited in the same manner as he had come, and Cadorna bit his lip in a twisted smile, his eyes gleaming with his calculations. After a moment, he let his eyes meet Gensor’s and began to speak quietly and deliberately. “Gensor… I’m sure, quite sure, I know the answer to this, but I still need to ask. What … motivates you? You’ve made no secret of riding my coattails to some private end of your own. Just what is it that you’re after?”

Gensor didn’t pause for even a moment before responding. “I know you know the answer, Councilman. The nature of your rewards for my services demonstrates your understanding. To practice magic to its fullest requires a great deal of money, not to mention incredible resources of other kinds. Who has time to go running off to the desert every time he needs the juice from a euphorbia or a special cactus needle? There are also, of course, many people who have a certain distaste for the byproducts of magical experimentation. To create, a person must also be allowed to make occasional mistakes.”

“Yes? So what are you saying?” Cadorna thrust his head a little closer to Gensor as he waited for him to continue.

“The ideal I seek is to practice my art—completely unfettered by monetary constraints, limits of materials, or government interference. In lieu of that, I take the increasing freedom you provide as you make your rise to power.”

“Exactly! It’s perfect!” Cadorna could barely contain himself, so impressed was he with his own brilliance. “Only a few more hours and a Black Watch mercenary’s well-aimed arrow stand between me and the First Councilman’s seat. But with your news of the ioun stones, you may just have provided me with the exact knowledge I need to go even beyond that position.”

Gensor’s scheming was way ahead of Cadorna’s, but he contained his impatience and let the councilman think he was presenting ideas that were completely new.

“If that big oaf has the two ioun stones as you suggest, I can use them to complete the figure of power and control the Pool of Radiance and all that goes with it. As the legitimate First Councilman of Phlan and controller of the pool, I’ll have authority and power over the living and the dead, humanoid and human alike!… And I’ll be able to provide you with the precise environment you require to practice your art!

“Think of it!” Cadorna put on his best sales pitch. “You’ll have first crack at any and all magical finds. That dagger I gave you and those spellbooks—they’ll be only the beginning!” Cadorna drew up his hands like a young child seeing a present for the first time. “And… I’ll be able to provide you with an unlimited supply of subjects for your experiments.”

This last idea hadn’t occurred to Gensor, and he beamed with genuine pleasure when Cadorna brought it up. “Yes! Truly outstanding. You do understand my needs, Councilman. But how do you expect to get the ioun stones, and how do you expect to defeat the Lord of the Ruins?” This was the part Gensor hadn’t figured out yet, and he was looking for some of Cadorna’s usual ingenuity to pull the whole thing off.

“The first part is simple … perfect, in fact.” Cadorna strolled back to his desk, sat down, and motioned for Gensor to sit as well. “You haven’t forgotten our old friend Yarash the sorcerer—the one whose magic pollutes the river?”

Gensor immediately knew the tack Cadorna’s thoughts were taking. “What about him?” he asked eagerly.

“Well, there he is, an eccentric, obstinate wizard whose power and independence have been a thorn in the side of the Lord of the Ruins practically forever … I simply send word to the Lord of the Ruins that I’ve sent those three off on a death mission to deal with Yarash. Win or lose, the Lord of the Ruins is happy because he doesn’t want Yarash alive any more than he wants the cleric, thief, and mage alive. You contact the sorcerer. Yarash, old fool that he is, won’t care one whit about the ioun stones beyond their immediate monetary or exchange value. You can flatter him—tell him a partial truth—how we could think of no one else strong enough to defeat the mage woman….”

There was truth to that, Gensor thought, and he nodded and gestured for Cadorna to go on.

“Promise him a virtually unlimited supply of guinea pigs for his ‘experiments.’ “

“Same thing you promised me, eh?”

Cadorna flushed. “No! I didn’t mean—”

Gensor waved a hand to silence him. “Merely a joke, Councilman. I understand the difference.” While Gensor didn’t trust Cadorna to tell the truth about the time of day, he knew the councilman was serious about providing an unfettered environment for his magic—at least, as long as it was convenient to do so. And once Gensor was powerful enough, he really wouldn’t need Cadorna anymore. …

“Uh, well, anyhow, as I was saying, I want you to enlist Yarash’s aid. Meanwhile, I’ll see that the three parties under discussion are arrested for something … maybe even the brawl last night.” Cadorna sped ahead. “The council won’t care about the details once I tell them that I propose to send the party upriver to find the source of its pollution and put a stop to it. Not even the First Councilman himself knows about Yarash. Can you believe it? But that won’t stop me from telling the party something about the old wizard to pique their interest. Those three will bound off on this mission like lambs to slaughter when I tell them about the chance to stop the horrible devastation being done to the river … and when I mention that Yarash knew Denlor well….”

Gensor nodded in deference to Cadorna’s insight, and Cadorna continued.

“If Yarash defeats them, I get the ioun stones. By the time they return— if they return, and I can’t imagine how they’d manage it—I’ll be First Councilman. I’ll simply have the Black Watch arrest them at the city gates.”

“On what grounds?”

“I don’t know—treason, perhaps. It won’t matter. No one will question my authority. Under completely legal auspices, the Black Watch guards will strip them of their weapons and magical items, including the ioun stones! And the beauty of it is that that’s merely my contingency plan. I fully expect Yarash to turn all three of those bunglers into sea slime.”