Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [123]
"That could take days," Belkram sighed.
"It could," came a voice from behind them. "But if you'll allow me to show you the way, it can take you but a moment."
They all turned. In the passage behind them, the fat weaver, Jatham, stood in his night robe, holding a hand lamp and regarding them calmly.
Gedaern's eyes narrowed. "You-"
"Serve Thay? Aye. I thought Elminster might tell you." The weaver watched the frowning daleman come toward him and added, "I'd like to make a deal with you, Gedaern."
"Oh, aye? And what sort of deal could you and I come to?"
"You let me live, to leave the dale peacefully with my possessions on the morrow. In return, I tell you all I know of the other councillors' loyalties and doings, and show these two Harpers the gate they seek."
"Just let you go, after all you've done? Why-"
"Or you could thank me. Most of what I've done, this last year or so, is work against the spells and schemes of the Zhentarim as much as I could. My efforts have kept many in the dale alive, even some here in this cellar now."
"How could you save lives and trick wizards? Aye? Tell me that!"
Jatham spread his hands. In the gesture, his left hand let go of the oil lamp, and it hung motionless in the air in front of him, its flame flickering slightly. "With my own magic, of course," he said mildly. "It's not much, but it's enough to make any thoughts of slaying me or driving me out of the dale very, very foolish indeed."
Gedaern eyed the weaver suspiciously. He darted a glance to the two Harpers. They looked back at him expressionlessly and spread their hands to signal their indecision.
Gedaern frowned. "What's to keep you from blasting us all with your magic the moment we go to bed, then?" "I am," said another voice from behind the weaver. Jatham turned quickly. "You should not have come down, love. This is not safe."
"It was necessary," Ulraea told him crisply. Her eyes were lined with sleep, and her unbound hair hung in wild tangles about her, but she drew herself up in her tattered nightdress proudly and regarded Gedaern with what seemed almost like a challenge in her eyes. "Jatham is mine, Ged. I know him as no other in this dale, and I tell you he has not worked against us of the dale while Long-spear lorded it over us, and will not do so this night. If you must, set a guard in our room tonight."
Gedaern stared at her, openmouthed. It was several long breaths later that he visibly remembered to swallow. "Ulla?" he said at last, voice cracking. "Y-you… love him? You'll go with him?"
Ulraea nodded, eyes on his. "If you'll let me." She looked around at them all. "If you're so fearful of what my Jath will do with his magic, guard me-and take my life if he works ill."
Jatham reached for her involuntarily. "No!" he cried, in an anguished voice.
"No," Gedaern's voice overrode his, loud and flat. "It won't be necessary. Go back to your beds, both of you, after you show us this gate and tell us where it leads. If you'll do that, we have a deal."
He sheathed the notched, scarred sword he bore and walked slowly to where the weaver stood. He raised his hand, palm out, standing nose to nose with the Thayan agent.
Jatham did the same, and slowly they both brought their hands down to touch each other's chest in the old dale custom. A bargain was made. Both men nodded solemnly.
Then Jatham said briskly, "The gate can only be entered by stepping out over the cesspool from a certain place, the spot between the two little humps of stone, on this side-see, here? It will take you across half Faerun to the far edge of Anauroch, the Great Desert. Those who go through reach a central hall in an old, ruined castle, a place they call Spellgard today. It's a one-way journey, and the castle has a fell reputation. I recommend that those who love the High Dale not take the gate. The way between there and here is long, and not safe."
"That's our road, then," Itharr said quietly.
Belkram nodded and said, "Our thanks, Jatham… and Gedaern, and all of you, for risking your necks again this night. May the High Dale know peace