Then there was the question of his status within the Ministry. Quite apart from his divine powers, the fact that Haldin could secure the services of an armed airship and her crew for his mission spoke volumes. So did the amount he knew about undead—although, Mordan admitted to himself with a wry smile, gnomes were notorious for the way they hoarded knowledge. But out of all of his erstwhile companions, Haldin was the only one he felt he didn’t know. He had no idea what the gnome would do in his position, although he suspected that he would have found some way of avoiding getting into it in the first place. Would he ask a gnome for advice? That was usually an expensive proposition.
Hearing footsteps in the passage outside his door, Mordan stood and waited for the guards who would escort him to another interview with another official. When the door opened, though, he was surprised to see Haldin there, alone. The gnome smiled.
“I do hope the Ministry’s—ah, rather insistent—hospitality has not inconvenienced you unduly.” he said. “I made it clear to my superiors that you and our other friends should be afforded every comfort that the circumstances permitted.”
Mordan spread his arms and turned to indicate the room.
“I’ve stayed in worse places,” he said laconically.
“Excellent,” said the gnome. “Now, if you would be so kind as to come with me, I have something to say to all of our company.” He held the door open wider, indicating the passage outside with a courtly sweep of his hand. Mordan saw that there were no guards with him.
Mordan followed Haldin through a labyrinth of wood-paneled corridors and down several flights of stairs. Finally, they entered a large, carpeted room furnished with several overstuffed armchairs and entirely walled with bookshelves, except for a large and impressively carved marble fireplace. The others were already waiting, and they got up to welcome him. Haldin waited for the greetings to be over, and discreetly cleared his throat.
“My friends,” he said, “if I may call you that, I have been instructed to tell you certain things on behalf of the Ministry, and I also have some things I would like to say on my own behalf. First, and most important, you are all free to go. There was to have been a condition of secrecy—indeed, those of you who are not Karrnathi citizens were originally to have had the memories of recent events magically removed—but I was able to prevail upon my superiors not to do this. I suspect, Tarrel, that when you inevitably encountered the gap in your memory you would be very much concerned with filling it, and I know that you are well equipped to do so.”
The others smiled, and Tarrel bowed modestly.
“Besides,” the gnome continued, “the Ministry has been able to arrange things so that there is no longer any evidence of what you encountered, and would of course do everything in its power to discredit you if you should ever try and pass on what you know. This all falls into the realm of state secrets, as I’m sure you will understand.”
“So the Vedykar Lancers,” said Mordan, “they still died on the Day of Mourning?”
Haldin nodded.
“As esteemed, loyal, and greatly lamented members of the Army of Karrnath,” he said. “Their treachery never took place, for they could not possibly have been assigned to provide military support for an experimental facility that never existed. In fact, some independent explorers chanced to discover their remains quite recently; the banners and other insignia are on their way to Vedykar, where I am told a memorial is to be constructed. Meanwhile, the bodies of the lancers themselves are being returned to their families for burial. In closed caskets, sadly, as the peculiar nature of the Mournland has rendered the sight of their remains somewhat disturbing.”
“Will the regiment be re-formed?” asked Mordan. The gnome shrugged.
“That is a matter for the army’s commanders to decide,” he said, “although it would seem regrettable for such a long and glorious tradition to come to an end with the Day of Mourning.”
“And the Inmistil Rangers?” asked Tarrel.
“They were never in Cyre,” replied Haldin. “The government of Thrane assures us that this is so, and it we would never dream of doubting their word. Accordingly, neither the Ministry of the Dead nor any other branch of the government of Karrnath has any knowledge of them. But permit me to anticipate your next question—that of the remarkable Captain ir’Mallon. It is known that she was in Karrlakton, from the spell that her esteemed father, the general, purchased to locate her remains when she was presumed dead in the Mournland. Such spells are powerful and expensive, and their results are not often wrong.”
He paused for a moment, and then continued.
“Officially, the government of Karrnath has no knowledge of her activities or even her existence,” he said. “However, it will become known through certain unofficial channels that she played a prominent role in tracking down and bringing to justice a desperate war criminal whom Karrnath had been seeking for some time—and whose existence, of course, the government of Karrnath will also deny. Unfortunately, she lost her life in the process, but—still unofficially—her death was entirely befitting a paladin of the Silver Flame. Tarrel, I assume that you will be able to locate those unofficial channels without further assistance?” Tarrel nodded.
“Her ashes have been recovered,” Haldin went on, “and have already been presented to the Church of the Silver Flame here in Korth. I understand they will be returned to Thrane with full honors. The Karrnathi ambassador in Flamekeep has been instructed to convey to her father the unofficial condolences of King Kaius himself.”
The gnome paused again and coughed softly. Picking up a small bell from a table beside his chair, he rang it.
“I must apologize,” he said. “All this talking makes my throat quite dry. I trust that some brandy would not go amiss?” A uniformed servant brought in a tray bearing a decanter and five glasses, serving them all. Haldin sipped at his glass and grimaced.
“It is only Zil, I’m afraid,” he said. “The Cyran is almost impossible to acquire these days.”
“Try the Black Dragon in Karrlakton,” suggested Mordan. “They seem to have no trouble getting hold of it. Tell them I sent you.” Haldin’s face brightened like a summer sunrise.
“I shall indeed,” he said, beaming.
“Now,” he said, after they had drunk, “as I said earlier, you are all free to go. Tarrel and Lady d’Cannith, I understand that both your houses have been enquiring after you with some concern. I trust that you will be able to set their minds at ease.”
“And myself?” asked Adalrik d’Cannith, with an ironic smile. Haldin smiled back.
“Yes, my lord, your house is most eager to effect your return,” he said, “and that matter has necessitated some delicate negotiations. You will not be surprised that House Cannith has made clear its displeasure at your recent activities—I believe the word excoriate was mentioned?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly, but neither Dria nor Adalrik spoke.
“However,” Haldin went on, “the—involuntary—nature of your captivity is regarded as a mitigating factor. As is the fact that—no doubt deliberately—you made sure that your work did not progress beyond the most elementary stages, giving nothing useful to your captor.” Adalrik’s face was inscrutable.
“Given the circumstances, the Ministry of the Dead has requested House Cannith to permit you to remain with us as an expert informant, so that the extent and ramifications of your research can be assessed. I cannot say yet what their answer will be, as the dragonmarked houses have always maintained neutral stance in international affairs, which might be jeopardized by their allowing one of their members to work with the government of a single nation. The Ministry has, of course, stressed that your work will only be used for peaceful purposes, such as ensuring that no similar research is under way or can be completed at any Karrnathi facility. This is in line with the government’s stated policy of removing undead from front-line service where practicable, and ceasing all further research into the creation of undead troops.”