The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [110]
"No one." Beldar tapped the badge Dandalus had sold him, the device that marked him as a man in thrall to a beholder. "There is no one now," he added meaningfully.
"I see. Your master was slain by this human."
That hissing voice was not quite questioning. In case a truth-magic remained in the soft amber glow, Beldar said, "I decided to come here-alone-and parted with valuable gemstones to learn the way."
"You earn my protection already," the great beholder said, turning to face him fully, almost as if its blind, empty eyesocket could still see. "Are you willing to do more?"
"I am your servant," Beldar replied with dignity, knowing no other sane answer.
"Then one of us shall accompany you back to Waterdeep."
Though Beldar saw no gesture nor word pass among the floating horrors, one of the gauths-if he remembered the Roaringhorn library bestiary correctly-drifted forward to hang just above and in front of him. Before he could look at it properly, it began to circle him as if surveying a roast boar for a tasty-looking place to start devouring.
"You shall lead Alanxan without delay to this man, that his death may be accomplished without arousing the city's defenders, attracting undue attention, or leading this arm of our vengeance into any traps. Failure to do this, Beldar Roaringhorn-oh, yes, human, I read all I want of your mind in our brief contact-and not only will you die in long torment, but so shall all your friends and kin. Perhaps every so-called noble house of Waterdeep needs one of us commanding it."
"I thought you loathed…" Beldar stopped, realizing nothing he might say could be well received.
"We do. Save as cowering slaves to fetch, enact our wills, and provide us with entertainment. Yet with your ridiculous airs, you prancing humans entertain and even amuse-some of the time."
"A-a deathwagon waits to carry me back into Waterdeep," Beldar almost gabbled. "It has, uh, grim cause to travel every street of the city, so Alanxan can be safely brought to the back door of the, ah, blasphemer's abode, if, of course, this meets with your approval!"
"It will serve. Go."
Beldar bowed, turned, and strode hastily back out of the lair, eagerly seeking the stomach-churning reek of rotten garbage. The gauth drifted behind him, its largest eye half-closed but its others trained on him, as if anticipating betrayal at any moment.
The Roaringhorn allowed himself a grim smile. As the creature was expecting treachery, it would be ill-bred of him to disappoint it!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Taeros stood on the Westgate ramparts, the siege of Waterdeep raging all around him.
Far below his boots, a host of sahuagin pounded at the gate, using great waterlogged timbers from sunken ships as rams. Wizards hurled down magical fire at them, and City Guard archers loosed wave after wave of flaming arrows. Scores of fish-men fell, until the wet sands were hidden by heaps of blackened, smoking scaled corpses.
Suddenly a gigantic squid rose from the dark, roiling sea, towering higher than Mount Waterdeep. An enormous tentacle lashed out, impossibly long, dashing a screaming line of Waterdeep's defenders off the battlements, leaving Taeros standing alone, armed with only a quill and a fistful of parchments. The tentacle curled back slowly, arching menacingly on high… and then descended at him, vast and dark and terrible…
He was blinking blindly into the bright morning sun, bolt upright in bed and gasping hard. It took some time before Taeros realized the thudding in his ears wasn't just the pounding of his heart. Someone was insistently striking the knockplate of his bedchamber door.
Mumbling curses, Taeros swung out of bed. The shirt and breeches he'd worn the night before were conveniently right on the floor where he'd left them. He yanked them on, strode barefoot to the door, and flung it open.
Onarlum stood with his staff of office raised to strike again, mute apology on his face. Behind his shoulder Taeros could see a young