Thornhold - Elaine Cunningham [125]
“Who speaks to yours?”
Bronwyn considered this. She was not a religious person, but it occurred to her that there was only one answer. “Tymora,” she said. “The lady of luck. She bids you take a chance and make your own way.”
Cara pursed her lips. “That sounds good, but not quite right for me.”
“And that’s fine,” Bronwyn said, feeling slightly out of her element with this conversation. She had never given religion much consideratioii, but the longing in the child’s eyes for a god or goddess of her own convinced Bronwyn that it might be a matter worth pondering.
“Now let’s go to the South Ward,” she suggested. “The sun will be setting soon, and I believe there’s a full moon tonight.”
At such times, the Moon Sphere hung above a large courtyard. People could enter the huge, magic-rich globe and float or soar as they wished. Bronwyn could think of no wonder more likely to capture the child's fancy, or no better ending to the day.
* * * * *
The dungeon of Waterdeep Castle was not the dank and fearful place that Algorind had expected. Granted, his prison was well underground-the watch had brought him down two flights of stairs-but the stone walls were smooth and dry, and torches sputtered in wall brackets placed every few paces. The cells were small, but clean and provided with the basic comforts: a straw mattress on a plank frame, a chamber pot, a washbasin, and a pitcher of water. He had been offered food the night before, and again this morning. In all, he could not complain, and he trusted in Tyr’s justice to see that his confinement would not be long.
Keeping his mind fixed on this thought, Algorind raised his voice in the traditional morning hymn. It was not, he supposed, the sort of thing one usually heard emanating from these particular halls of justice.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the halls, growing louder. Algorind’s face brightened when he caught sight of Sir Gareth, but he finished the last two lines of the hymn before speaking. “Thank you for coming, sir.”
“You sound surprised to see me,” the knight said curtly. “You are wiser than you appear if you suspect that I considered leaving you here. How did this thing come about?”
Algorind glanced at the prison guard. The older knight followed his thinking and affirmed it with a curt nod. Once the young paladin had been released, they walked in silence from the prison and did not speak until they were riding side by side back to the Halls of Justice.
“I saw the child,” Algorind finally said. “The child of Samular’s bloodline.”
The knight’s face turned so white that Algorind feared he would fall from his horse. “Here? In Waterdeep?”
“Yes, sir. I pursued her, thinking to bring her back to the temple. She eluded me, and the watch detained me.”
Sir Gareth sat in silence for several moments as he mulled this over. Finally he turned a stern face to Algorind. “Your failure to apprehend a small child is serious. It speaks of lack of skill or lack of will. Perhaps you allowed the girl to escape.”
Algorind was deeply shocked. “Sir!”
“Incompetence is a grave offense. You are certainly guilty of that,” the knight said coldly. “By all reports, you are well trained and able. Any future failure will be regarded as deliberate and as treason against the order. Do you understand?”
“No, sir,” Algorind said with complete honesty. In truth, the knight’s words baffled him.
“What part was unclear?”
“Well,” he began, “I am not certain how the girl came to be in the city at all.”
“You would do better to concern yourself with finding her,” the knight said in a severe tone. “And when you do, bring her to me at once. Not at the temple, though,” he added in a milder voice. “The other brothers need not hear of this single lapse. We will keep the matter between us. Obey me in this.”
“Yes, sir,” Algorind responded, but never had he found obedience so heavy a burden. If he had done wrong, then he should have the censure of his brothers. To seek to avoid it was impious. He had no wish to shrug off his burdens