Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [21]
Aloud, Tarl vowed to help the brothers of Phlan in their search for the missing hammer as soon as he could clear his mind through mourning and meditation. Silently, Tarl vowed that he would spend his days building his knowledge, skills, power, and experience until he could, himself, regain the sacred hammer from the vampire and exact vengeance for his friends. The lies to Brother Tern were so much bile in Tarl's mouth, but he knew that the responsibility for the loss of the hammer was his, and he was determined to set things right by himself.
The old cleric was sympathetic to Tarl's plans. He believed he had convinced the young man to rest within the confines of the temple for at least a day and then seek out a private place, perhaps in the woodlands north of the city, to fulfill his need to pray and recuperate from the horrors he had witnessed.
When Tarl was finished with his meal and Brother Tern had departed, he went to Anton. Every cleric in the temple had laid hands on Anton, accomplishing almost nothing, but Tarl could not help but try again himself. His hand reached out toward Anton's forehead, but it recoiled when his fingers made contact with the gelid skin. Where the black word had buried itself in Anton's flesh, the cold was so intense that it burned. Tarl forced himself to press his hands onto his brother's forehead, then began to pray. He could feel the healing powers of Tyr strong within his hands, but he felt no exchange of damaged energy for whole as he usually did in healing. When there wasn't even a glimmer of warmth or recognition from Anton after Tarl had spent several hours with him, Tarl rolled out his bedding on a cot and lay down beside his teacher and friend.
3
The Night Begins
There would be no peace tonight, Ren thought, eyeing the crowd in the tavern. The homey pub was filled with people-soldiers, thieves, adventurers, even a magic-user or two-most of them newcomers to Phlan, here no doubt in response to the town council's offer of money and treasure for each uncivilized section of the city cleared of danger. Most of the strangers were ready to make voluntary expeditions in exchange for promised rewards, but recently the town council had even begun to send convicted criminals on expeditions outside the walls of Civilized Phlan, in lieu of jail terms. As Ren examined the crowd, he thought for the thousandth time how strange it was that they all looked so young-much too young to be facing the monsters that controlled the ruins of the old city.
Ren never thought of himself as old, though he felt he'd aged a lifetime in the last year, but he wasn't wet behind the ears like the roomful of youngsters around him. He'd stolen the best from the best. He'd killed monsters by the dozens, and men in even greater numbers. And he had loved-god, how he had loved! He knew that no one in the packed room could have experienced a love like his. He closed his eyes and thought of Tempest. Her hair was the flaming sienna red of bur oak leaves in autumn. She was a tall woman, with a striking full figure. She could move with the grace and silence of a cat or the provocative bawdiness of a street wench. When the two of them had prowled the streets and rooftops together, she had always worn black leathers. The thought of her, buxom and strong, working her way over the rooftops with ease, stopping to tease him with a glance or a motion of her hands, made Ren's blood stir…
"Have you fallen asleep standing up, man?" Sot's angry voice bellowed from behind the bar. "There's tables to clean and orders to take! Move yourself with some alacrity inside my pub, or you'll be moving yourself even faster to the doorway."
Ren shook his head. "Sorry," he muttered, and he began working the tables again. There was comfort in the mind-numbing dullness of the job. He could think-or not think-as he chose, and continue his work. He brought four flagons of ale to one table, five bowls of Sot's renowned pork and cabbage soup to another, two glasses of wine to yet another. He mopped the floor where a pig of a youth had spilled a