Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [30]
They were both thinking this, swords held ready as they came up over a ridge, when they saw a light ahead, an upright amber oval of radiance hanging motionless in the trees.
They looked at each other, nodded, started forward- and came to a halt almost immediately. Armored men had suddenly appeared out of the light, scattering into the open space in front of it with swords drawn. The two Harpers saw robed men gesturing commandingly.
They traded glances again. Belkram laid a hand on Itharr's arm and murmured, "Let's stay low and just watch. I'd wager a large amount that Elminster is involved in this, but I don't see him anywhere."
Itharr had been watching the men intently. "Aye. They seem to be looking for him, or us, or anyone about."
They sank down to their elbows, looked behind them, and shifted apart to lie under the shelter of shrubs, blades ready beside them. Itharr scratched his nose.
"Those are Zhents, or I'm a Calishite."
Belkram peered at him through the darkness. "No," he said, "you haven't turned into a Calishite, and I can't say I've noticed you oiling your hide and perfuming your gold coins these last few summers."
Itharr sighed theatrically. "No? I try to be so subtle." Belkram snorted and they fell silent, watching the Zhentarim searching the woods, closer and closer. The two Harpers waited intently, as still as stone, like two hawks on a perch watching for prey.
* * * * *
"Nothing," Mrinden said angrily.
"Nothing save this," Kalassyn pointed out, nudging the sentinel's body with his foot. Mrinden made a rude noise and waved his hands in exasperation.
"Either we've been raided and the raiders have got clean away-we'll never find anyone in these woods, in the dark, unless by pure chance we fall right over them- or they're in the dale right now, whoe'er they are, and past us. In either case we must return. Call the men back."
Kalassyn gave curt orders to the Sword, who nodded and hastened away.
Mrinden stared angrily at the stars above and the trees around until the Sword returned and spoke at his elbow. "Lord, we are here and await your orders."
Mrinden tossed his head like an angry stallion and glared at the man. "Choose seven of your best to remain behind. They are to let no one through the gate but a ranking mage of the Zhentarim and those with him. Their orders are to slay all others; let no one see this gate and live to tell of it. When light comes, they must search the area carefully. No intelligent creature must elude their search, or it will go ill with all of you later. Understood?"
"Aye, Lord." A cool night breeze slid past them. Mrinden shivered and turned abruptly toward the light.
"The rest of you follow me." He strode back into the radiance. The Sword was already waving a gauntleted hand; the main body of warriors hastened to follow. Kalassyn joined their line near the back, looking around one last time at the dark trees and the stars overhead.
As he glanced up, a star fell, trailing a silent path across the cloak of night. Kalassyn looked down, quickly, and said nothing. He wanted no soldiers reading ill omens into signs none in Faerun were wise enough to interpret. Even as he told himself that, his own heart sank, and it was with fear that Kalassyn returned to the High Dale.
Perhaps the star brought good fortune. Kalassyn was safely through the gate, and the last of the returning Wolves with him, when two Harpers rose out of the night behind the seven-man guard like two death-dealing temple pillars. The guards had not yet turned from watching the last black boot heel vanish into the silent light when steel took the throats of the first.
The third man to fall managed a strangled roar as he went down, and the remaining Zhentilar wheeled around in frantic haste. An instant later, blades flashed in the amber glow, steel rang, and men twisted, lunged, and scrambled. Overhead another star fell, but each man there was too busy to notice it.
* * * * *
When Kalassyn strode forward and in a footfall returned to the High Dale,