Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [94]
"Things are worse," Cormik explained flatly, his face grim. "Much worse. The guards aren't waiting anymore for folk to wander out on the streets after dark to abduct them. Now they simply break into people's homes and take however many they want for the work gangs. Anybody who resists is killed." Cormik sipped at the glass of wine absently, for a change not seeming to notice that it wasn't the best vintage. "But that's not even the worst of it. Raven-das is allowing fewer and fewer trade goods to remain in Iri-aebor. Virtually everything that comes to the city from the west and south is loaded onto caravans bound for the eastern kingdoms. The free market in the New City closed last week for lack of goods to sell. Soon people will begin to starve."
"It doesn't make sense," Mari said angrily. "What is the point of presiding over a dead city? There's nothing to be gained in that. It's almost as if Ravendas is punishing Iriaebor. For what?"
Cormik turned his one eye toward Caledan, yet said nothing.
Caledan sat with his back to the fire, his face lost in shadow. He had been silent and brooding all evening, but now he spoke. "Has she found the Nightstone yet?"
"My agents have been unable to discover that," Cormik replied.
If she had gained the Nightstone, we would certainly know it," Morhion interposed. "For one thing, all of our efforts at concealment would be meaningless. There would be nowhere in the city we could hide from her."
Man swallowed hard.
"What of the resistance groups?" Tyveris asked Cormik.
Cormik sighed. "Paralyzed. For a time we were making progress against the Zhentarim. We were taking a serious bite out of their trading operations, and we were managing to smuggle some goods into the city." He shook his head, absently twirling the rings on his stubby fingers. "Not anymore. Ravendas has captured too many cityfolk and pressed them into her work gangs deep in the Tor. At night they are locked in the dungeons below the tower. You'd have a hard time finding anyone in this city who doesn't have a son or daughter, a brother or sister, a friend or loved one imprisoned by Ravendas. I'm afraid no one is going to fight against Ravendas when she could kill a thousand people with a single order."
A despairing silence settled over the room. Then a thought struck Man. "What if the prisoners were somehow set free?"
"That's a fine idea," Tyveris said, the firelight reflecting off the loremaster's dark skin. "But just how do you propose we manage to get into the dungeons below the tower, let alone free the prisoners?"
Man sighed. "I don't really-"
Ferret interrupted her. "I think I might be able to manage something, Mari, provided Guildmaster Bock would be willing to cooperate. But I'm certain I can make him see the profit in it. After all, an all-out rebellion would mean a fair number of Zhentarim corpses. And Zhentarim always carry gold. I imagine Bock will find the temptation of so many gold-laden bodies to loot too great to resist."
Tyveris shook his head, glowering. "You're a nasty man, Ferret."
"Why, thank you, Tyveris," the thief replied cheerfully.
"Well, Mari," Cormik said with a wicked chuckle "It looks as if you're onto something."
Cormik left to return to the Prince and Pauper, and Morhion departed as well, intending to study the mysterious magical crystal he had found on the shadevar's body. Tyveris picked up the two sleeping halfling children and went with Estah to help bundle them into bed.
For a moment Caledan and Mari were alone.
"I wish you luck with your plan to free the prisoners, Harper," he said, his tone frosty. "But there's really only one thing I care about at this point. Revenge against Ravendas."
He rose and made his way up the staircase, disappearing into the shadows. Somehow Mari managed to wait until she was alone before the tears started rolling down her cheeks.
Caledan sat alone in his room. Sunlight streamed heavily through the window, gleaming dully off the copper bracelet encircling his left wrist. Sometimes