Uneasy Alliances (9 page)

Trandon looked at Kern, who shrugged, then at Noph, who looked pointedly away. The fighter lifted his shoulders in resignation, then turned his attention back to the bloodforge. “Everyone stand back,” he cautioned, lifting his hands preparatory to casting a spell.

“Wait!” The cry came from Garkim. He raised his own hand. “What are you doing? You have no right to destroy this thing!”

“It is far too dangerous a device to be simply left alone,” replied Trandon. “Especially now. The emperor is dead, the land overrun by fiends. Anarchy reigns in those streets.” He gestured toward the town. “You’ve seen to what lengths an unscrupulous man such as this—he stirred Entreri with his foot—will go to get his hands on such an artifact. How much easier to do it now that it is no longer hidden away in the palace. The only way to guarantee the safety of Faerun and of all Toril is to destroy all these things. I can’t get at the others, but I’d like to make a start with this one.”

Garkim shook his head and hurried down the steps. “Not so, my lord wizard.” His voice shook slightly. “Before Emperor Aetheric died, he mind-linked with me. I can use the forge. I know something of the power it possesses. So far, we’ve only just scratched the surface of that power. I think Emperor Aetheric was on the verge of discovering some far greater strength that lies within it, just before your arrival in the city. Now, with his knowledge implanted in my brain, perhaps I can discover that secret.”

Trandon considered a moment, then shook his head. “The risk is still too great. Forgive me, Lord Garkim, but I have seen much evil in this land, and I don’t like the idea at all of this forge becoming even more powerful.”

“Garkim is right, Trandon.” The voice was Ingrar’s. The blind youth stepped from the altar and approached the wizard. “He needs the power of the forge to drive the fiends from this land and to rebuild the kingdom of Doegan as a bulwark against their attacks. The Fallen Temple is greatly weakened by this day’s events, but they aren’t destroyed. The forge is needed.”

“Trandon has a point, though,” argued Kern. “What’s to prevent the bloodforge from being used for evil as well as for good?”

Ingrar smiled. “I will be the guarantor of that, Kern. I am the Voice of Tyr; he speaks through me in this land. I will be the guardian of justice in the Utter East.” He laid his hand on Garkim’s shoulder. “You and I, Lord Garkim, have both been maimed. As a boy, you suffered from the taunts of your fellows because of your special powers. I have lost the sight of my eyes. Yet together, the gods intend us to heal this wounded land. Shall we undertake their will?”

Garkim looked at him for a long moment. Then his hand came up to clasp Ingrar’s forearm firmly.

Trandon looked at them closely. “If I am reading Tyr’s will aright, I leave the bloodforge in your care. But beware.” His voice hardened. “I don’t think any of us fully understands what this artifact is capable of. Such strong magic is a dangerous thing if you take it lightly.”

Ingrar smiled. “Don’t worry. Such matters are now in the hands of the gods.” He turned to Garkim. “But now Eldrinpar has need of us.”

He gestured toward shore. The others, gazing through the shattered doorway of the temple, saw the skyline of the city, dark against the morning sky. Across the rooftops and from the streets crawled, hopped, and walked fiends, converging on the plaza of Umberlee.

Garkim nodded. “Yes. The time for cleansing has come. Let us begin.”

The two men, pirate and politician, stood behind the bloodforge. From within his robes, Garkim drew a small bejeweled knife. Swiftly he slashed his palm, and then held out the blade to Ingrar. The youth accepted the knife and made a cut in his own hand. The two maimed hands clasped each other, their blood mingling. Then Garkim and Ingrar slowly lowered their palms to the bloodforge. A brilliant flash lit the sky and water. From empty air stepped figure after figure. With sudden shock, Noph realized that each was a duplicate of the strange man he and the paladins had fought in their rooms in the palace.

The bloodforge army surged forth, a seemingly endless stream of warriors, to assemble in serried ranks upon the causeway. Now Garkim lifted his hand from the forge. His eyes were shut and his lips unmoving, but all present felt the mighty psychic cry from his mind.

Warriors! Go forth! Cleanse this city of the fiends who infest it! We, Lord Garkim and Lord Ingrar of the bloodforge, command it of you!

From the throats of the forge army came a single ululating cry. They rushed forth, bearing down upon the fiends. From the creatures of the Abyss came a hellish shrieking. They gave way before the forge warriors, and in moments the plaza was emptied. Bands of warriors pursued the tanar’ri down the narrow streets. Their screams and wails echoed dimly into silence as the light from the bloodforge faded. Ingrar and Garkim stepped back, opening their eyes.

Trandon broke the silence that followed. He looked at Kern and Noph. “Shall we return to Waterdeep? I’m anxious to see Entreri stand before the judgment of Piergeiron. And when the Paladinson is done with him, I know some people in Cormyr who’d like to speak with him.”

Kern nodded. “That’s assuming, of course, that the others fulfilled their part of the quest. If they haven’t succeeded in capturing the doppleganger, who knows what we’ll find when we return?” He looked at Sharessa. “What do you think we should do about her?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Before Trandon could speak, Shar stepped forward. The sun shone through the broken roof on her face and caught the highlights in her raven hair. Her clothes were torn and tattered, but she still wore them with a kind of careless energy and panache. She looked at Noph and smiled. “How’s your head? I tried not to hit you too hard.”

“Okay,” mumbled Noph. Shar suddenly made him feel uneasy, and he didn’t know why.

The female pirate turned to Trandon. “I’m staying here. I suppose you could drag me hack to your part of the world, but what would be the point? You’ve got him,” she said, pointing to Entreri, “and I daresay I could do far more good here. These two”—she gestured to Ingrar and Garkim—”are going to need a good sword to knock some law and order back into this place. Isn’t that right, boys?”

Ingrar smiled shyly. He suddenly looked much more like the young pirate Noph had first met at the fountain. “That’s right, Shar. I guess we do.”

Shar blew a kiss in Noph’s direction but didn’t wait to see if he responded. She was already looking appraisingly at Garkim, as if wondering what sort of women he liked.

Noph turned to Kern and Trandon. “All right,” he agreed. “I’m ready to go home.”