The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [25]
His father set off after the cart without another word, leaving his son to hasten behind. The dockside streets were their usual crowded chaos, but Golskyn dodged as adroitly as any seasoned Dock Warder, his hood moving like the beak of a crow as he peered this way and that. Mrelder had no need to look inside it to know that his father's face would be as calm and set as old stone.
Mrelder often wondered what Lord Unity of the Amalgamation was thinking behind that stonelike mask. It was unlikely to be anything gentle, caring, or merciful. His father never had time to waste on such weaknesses.
The last of the strongchests was vanishing inside the rooming house as they arrived. A tall man, close-wrapped in a cloak, barred their way at the door. He was unremarkable but for the breadth of his shoulders and the girth of his chest; when he squared himself, he almost filled the doorway.
This sentinel gave Golskyn and Mrelder a glance, and his eyes, of a gray so pale it was almost silver, took on a reverent gleam.
Quickly ushering them in, he shut and barred the door and then bowed low to Golskyn.
"Lord Unity," he murmured, "we've long awaited your arrival. You're well, I trust?"
"I am better," Golskyn said meaningfully. Sweeping back his hood, he touched the black patch covering his left eye. "You have learned well, Hoth. Your work is excellent. The grafts were a great success, as always." He gave Mrelder a sidelong glance and added, "With minor exceptions."
The big man bowed again. "I am gratified."
"And perhaps curious?" the priest asked slyly. He removed the patch, revealing a bulging crimson orb. His mismatched gaze swept the room and settled on a small table set with a light welcoming meal: fresh bread, a cold joint, a bowl of summer berries and a smaller bowl of clotted cream.
"Fresh jam would be a pleasant addition," Golskyn commented. The red orb glowed-and a thin crimson beam erupted from his eye.
A flash more fleeting than lightning erupted from the berries and left them at a seething boil.
Hoth exclaimed in delight. His cloak parted as the three pairs of arms that had been folded neatly across his chest and belly rose to applaud.
"You've achieved remarkable control," he said proudly.
"It was hard-won. Mastering a beholder's eye is no easy task." Golskyn turned to Mrelder. "Hear me well: what you propose will be nearly as difficult."
"I'm ready," his son insisted.
"So you've said, time and again. How many times should precious seed be sewn in soil too weak to see it sprout?"
Rage rose in Mrelder, almost choking him. He turned away quickly to hide his anger and made the movement into a doffing of his cloak. A hunchbacked mongrelman whose warty, toadlike head was topped by an improbable pair of fox ears stepped out of a doorway and padded silently forward to take the garment.
"Before you dismiss my notion, Father," he said, "come see the sahuagin." Stepping into an archway that pierced a very thick wall, Mrelder pressed the right two stones and swung open the door hidden in one side of the arch.
Wordlessly Hoth held out a lit lantern. Mrelder took it with a nod of thanks and led the way down a steep stair. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth and stone.
The descending way soon started to spiral, going as deep as two buildings atop each other, until it ended in a room that had lain dark and forgotten beneath the rooming house and, more than likely, several buildings earlier.
It was dark no longer. Hanging lanterns glimmered in a chamber large enough for more than twenty men to dwell in spacious comfort. A dozen mongrelmen awaited them, wearing the dark cloaks of acolytes of the Amalgamation.
Their reverent gazes followed Lord Unity as he strode slowly around the room, expressionlessly examining cages, metal-topped tables, shelves of weapons and tools and racked glass vials, and even small floor-drains underfoot that emptied into yet deeper places.