Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [36]
“No. You’re a weak leader, a spiritual hypocrite, and a lousy human being.” Expecting him to dismiss her reproof as he usually dismissed her, she tried to push her way past him.
He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stay. “It reflects poor breeding, Kestrel, to walk away in the middle of a conversation. On what do you base those criticisms?”
Why did his insults still hold the power to rankle? Their frequency should have rendered her immune by now. “You’ve appointed yourself the leader of this mission, yet you allow your prejudice to cloud your decisions, ignoring or underusing my skills to the detriment of the party.” Despite her ire, her voice held steady. “For someone who professes humility in the service of his god, you have demonstrated precious little of it among your fellow mortals. And for someone who seeks to better understand the ways of the divine, you know very little about the human condition. I doubt very much that the third son of Baron Whoever-the-hell has ever wanted for anything or can comprehend what desperation can drive a person to do.”
There-she’d said it all, and her heart hammered in her chest with the rush of having finally confronted him. To her delight he looked as if he’d been slapped. She shook her arm loose, turned her back on him, and went to join the others.
With minimal travel time, the party descended to the dungeon’s lowest level and found the old dwarven treasury. The stone door stood ajar, its engraved glyph-a circle within an arch-desecrated. Through the graffiti, however, Kestrel noted that the original symbol matched that on the key she’d taken from the dead cult sorcerer.
A muffled voice, unmistakably Nottle’s, came from within, promising riches in exchange for release. “Gems… I got a nice collection o’gems. Or if it’s weapons ye want-”
“Oh, stuff a sock in it,” responded another voice, this one gruff and just inside the door. A few low chuckles indicated that several men stood guard.
Durwyn nocked an arrow. After the surprisingly easy defeat of the mage upstairs, they’d decided to launch more conventional missiles during their initial volley and hold Jarial and Ghleanna’s magic in reserve until they saw how many opponents they faced. Emmeric, armed with Corran’s sword, fingered the hilt impatiently, eager to strike back at the cult for slaying his companions.
The paladin gripped his warhammer. He had not spoken to Kestrel since their confrontation. When she’d suggested that she sneak into the room after combat began-in an attempt to disguise their number and attack one of the guards from behind-a shrug had been the only indication that he’d heard her.
At Corran’s nod, Durwyn stepped into the doorway and fired, a second shot quickly chasing the first. “One down-five more!” He jumped out of the way to let Corran and Emmeric charge past, then grabbed his axe and followed them into battle. Next, Ghleanna and Jarial entered.
Kestrel withdrew her twin daggers from her boots and waited in the corridor as sounds of combat erupted. She counted to sixty, then slipped inside.
It was a huge room, at least one hundred feet on each side, filled with chests, crates, and emptied sacks. Had Kestrel the time, her thief’s mind would have loved to calculate the riches the chamber had held during Myth Drannor’s peak. Now a more serious task occupied her attention.
The three warriors had engaged five guards in combat. A sixth guard lay on the floor, one of Durwyn’s arrows through his heart. At first Kestrel thought their opponents were cult sorcerers, for they all had claws for right hands and wore red leather boots, loincloths, and bracers. These adversaries, however, had no hoods to hide their heads and shoulders, and she gasped at the sight of their deformed features. Their skin, though still flesh-colored, resembled a scaly reptilian hide from the tops of their heads to their upper chests, and their eyes burned red with battlelust. Where the scarred mages had tattoos to broadcast their cult affiliation, the fighters had three razor-sharp blades piercing each thigh. The guards wielded