The Diamond - J. Robert King [8]
And what of Trandon? He'd fought bravely. He'd faced down death, and been a loyal trail companion. What did it matter if he fought for Waterdeep or Cormyr? He'd risked his life. And what had his grit and courage won him? Execution?
What does grit and courage get anyone? Noph wondered sourly.
"Ah, there you are," a snide voice said, down the corridor. Lasker Nesher approached, proud self-satisfaction oozing from his wet smile. "I almost said, "There you are, Son," but of course you aren't my son anymore."
"A fact that pleases us both," Noph replied coolly, as his father stopped before him. The man settled into place like a post sinking into a hole, about a handspan too close to Noph, who could not back up with the wall at his back. He raised his head as if flinging off rain, and asked briskly, "What brings you here, Lord Nesher? Or is it Open Lord Nesher yet?"
Hunger crawled across the noble's face, avarice he did not trouble to conceal. "Not yet. But you heard how the people respond to me."
Noph did not quite smile. "Wait till they get to know you."
Lasker ignored this, choosing instead to smooth back an errant strand of his thinning hair. "I come with a proposition for you. Isn't there somewhere more private we can talk?"
"A couple of cells around the corner stand empty. You'll feel right at home."
The noble blinked at this sally, measuring his son, and then came to some sort of decision. "We've much to discuss," he said in an almost pleading tone. "Come, grant your father one audience?"
Noph nodded despite himself. No matter how despicable and grasping Lasker's deeds, he thought, the man was still his father.
Lasker led the way, small and fidgety, muttering along the line of lanterns. Noph, catching fragments here and there, realized his parent was rehearsing the speech he was about to give. A ragged string hung from the older man's coat, waggling behind him like some sort of limp tail. Noph watched it droop.
They rounded a corner. In the shadows cast by distant, flickering lantern light, the door of one cell stood ajar, three inches of solid oak banded with oiled iron. Dust swirled up behind Noph's and Lasker's boots-no, not dust. Ash.
The walls, ceiling, and floor of the cell were coated with soot, and two perfect cones of ash stood like sentinels at its far end. Above, the back wall sloped down, gnarled and ancient bedrock that seemed like a giant hand pressing the space closed.
Lasker turned. "Let's get to business. You've no doubt recognized that I've changed since you left. My influence expands; I'm seeking high public office at last. You said I'd be at home in this cell. Well, if things run according to plan, not only this cell but this whole palace will be mine."
"You've been busy," Noph noted noncommittally.
A light kindled in Lasker's eyes. "I've won the support of ten merchants and three guilds. I've made speeches in every public square that matters. You heard me this afternoon! And unbeknownst to my rivals, I've struck an agreement with the Brothers Boarskyr: I'll get my bridge, and they'll get free High Forest lumber for ten years. Once the elves know what's hit them, the Kara-Turan trade route'll be open, with the weight of all Waterdeep behind the deal! D'you see? I've accomplished in one month what Piergeiron couldn't in a whole year!"
With a calmness he no longer felt, Noph asked, "What does this have to do with me?"
"I want to share it all with you," Lasker hissed, waving a clenched fist. "You are, after all, my son and my heir! I want you at my side. We'd be an irresistible pair: powerful merchant and young hero. Your presence would ensure power and fortune for our family."
Noph nodded. "You've all the underhanded expertise, and I the honest face people trust," he snorted. "In case you haven't noticed, Father, I've changed over the past month, too. I've traveled farther than you have in your whole life; I've been where there are no shadows at midday because the sun is right overhead. I've fought dopplegangers and squid lords, creatures that make your brand of evil