Adon approached the fighter's side. Midnight smiled and looked up at the cleric but said nothing.
"Are they… dead?" Kelemvor asked, his face still turned away from Midnight, his eyes still closed. "Are they alI dead?"
"There were four bodies," Adon said softly as he pulled the blanket over the fighter's shoulders. "We saw two more men jump into the river during the battle."
Kelemvor opened his eyes once more and gazed at the cleric. "Adon," the fighter said softly. "You survived, too. And Cyric?"
Midnight shook her head. "He was lost in the river when the skiff capsized."
Raising himself on one arm, Kelemvor ran his hand through Midnight's hair. "I'm… sorry," he said flatly. Midnight turned to look at the fighter, but he was already standing up, surveying the bridge. Kelemvor saw the splatters of blood, the weapons gathered in a pile, and his own armor. Nothing else.
"I'll wager Yarbro escaped," Kelemvor growled. "That one'll be the death of us yet."
"He was the first one off the bridge," Adon mumbled as he handed the fighter a shirt Midnight had taken from the dalesmen's camp. "I saw him leap off just as I got to shore."
Kelemvor swore loudly. "He'll either return to Essembra to gather reinforcements or ride on to Scardale to warn the town of our approach. Either way, it'll mean trouble for us. The dalesmen wanted you, Cyric, and Adon dead, though Mourngrym ordered them to bring you back to the dale to receive your 'just' punishment." Kelemvor paused and turned to Midnight. "Anyway, I'm sure that my name will now be added to the ranks of the guilty."
The fighter paused as he continued to dress himself. When he was done, he reached out and took Midnight's face in both of his hands. "Why did you leave me behind in Shadowdale?"
Midnight pulled away, anger suddenly overwhelming her. "Leave you! You turned Cyric down when he asked you to help rescue us!" The mage slapped the fighter's hand away as he reached for her, then she moved to Adon's side.
A bitter laugh escaped Kelemvor's lips. "Just what did Cyric tell you?"
Midnight hesitated for a moment. Brushing the hair out of her face, she relived the pain she felt when she first heard Kelemvor's words of betrayal. "That you 'couldn't interfere with justice'"
Kelemvor nodded. "Cyric chose his words well, don't you think? He knew you," the fighter growled, turning away from his friends. "He knew just what to say to make you believe him."
"He was lying?" Midnight gasped. "You never said that?"
"I said it before the trial," the fighter mumbled and hung his head. "I thought you were going to be found innocent. If I'd have known, I would have found some way to help you escape."
Adon shook his head. "What do you mean? Didn't you know about Cyric's plan?"
Kelemvor whirled around, anger flashing in his eves. "By all the souls in Myrkul's Realm, what do you think I'm saying?" The fighter took a deep breath. "Cyric never told me about the escape. I found out the next day… when the bodies started to appear."
Midnight and Adon looked at each other, shock in their eyes. "What bodies?" Midnight asked. A dark, creeping fear was moving across her soul. Even before Kelemvor told her about the murdered guardsmen, she knew that Cyric had not told her everything about his plan.
Kelemvor studied Midnight's face for a reaction as he told her about the bloody trail of corpses he and Mourngrym had traced through the Twisted Tower. The fighter hoped that the mage would not be able to hide her guilt if confronted directly with the murders. As he told her of the crimes, the mage blanched, and her eyes revealed surprise and horror.
"I–I didn't know," Midnight stammered and looked again to Adon. The cleric was frowning deeply, and his eyes reflected the fury he felt.
Kelemvor sighed. They really are innocent; he thought to himself, relieved that for the first time in what seemed like years he had done something right, something good. "I know you didn't, Midnight," Kelemvor said at last. "But didn't you even think it odd that you were able to escape so easily?"
"He told us he used the Gaeus Thorn," Adon snapped. When Kelemvor looked puzzled, the cleric continued. "That's a magical weapon of sorts. You strike someone with the thorn — a type of dart, really — and they do anything you tell them to do." Kelemvor thought of the young guard who had impaled himself and shuddered.
"We assumed he had subdued the guards using the thorn." Midnight folded her arms and hugged herself tightly. After a moment, she turned to the fighter. "Are you sure that it was Cyric? Could it have been someone else?"
Kelemvor shook his head. "We both know it was Cyric. Who else could it have been?"
"I… I don't know," Midnight sighed. "But it's possible there was someone else, isn't it? Another killer could have broken into the tower that night. He might have found the guards in a weakened state, or — "
The mage stopped speaking for a moment and took a deep breath. "Could one of the other guards have done it? Perhaps he wanted to cover up his own inattentiveness. Or maybe he wanted… I don't know what he might have wanted…" Tears were welling in Midnight's eyes.
Kelemvor reached out to take Midnight by the arm. The fighter drew her into his embrace and held the mage as her tears came. Suddenly she pulled back. "No," Midnight said. "I won't believe it!" Kelemvor put his hands on his hips. "Midnight, the facts are — "
"I don't know what the facts are, and neither do you!" the raven-haired magic-user cried. "I refuse to condemn our friend the way the dalesmen condemned Adon and me for Elminster's murder!"
Adon put his hand on the mage's shoulder. "Midnight, you know he did it. He would have killed me, too, if you hadn't stopped him." The cleric turned to the fighter. "A sickness had taken hold of Cyric, Kel. It was as if he went mad," Adon said flatly. He paused then and looked into the churning river. "Perhaps it's better that he's dead."
Midnight slowly walked to the edge of the bridge. "No, Adon. Cyric would have been fine once we got to Tantras, once we had a chance to rest. He really was a good person, you know. He just never had the chance to prove it."
Memories of all the evil he himself had done in the past, things the curse had forced him to do and things he had only blamed on the curse, flooded into Kelemvor's mind. The fighter went to Midnight's side and put his arms around her. "Perhaps he was afraid to do what's right," he said softly. "That same fear nearly prevented me from rescuing you."
Looking into Midnight's eyes, Kelemvor sighed and was forced to look away. "I was standing near the tower, waiting for daylight, waiting to see you again," the fighter told her. "I didn't know what I was going to do. But I suspected that once you were brought out, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from trying to help you, even if it cost me my life. I stood there waiting for the moment when I would learn what I was going to do.
"Then the bodies were discovered, and I let Mourngrym convince me that you were guilty, that you and Adon had killed Elminster and then the guards." Adon whimpered softly at Kelemvor's comments, and the fighter paused for a moment. "It was easier to believe them than to do what I knew was right.
"After I saw what the dalesmen really were, when your boat approached, I knew that I had to make a choice." The fighter turned and looked at the bloodstains scattered about the bridge. "My reaction was as I thought it would be."
"Then you believe we're innocent?" Midnight asked softly.
"Aye," Kelemvor whispered as he kissed Midnight full on the mouth. When the kiss had ended, Kelemvor noticed Adon crouching over the pile of weapons that had been appropriated from the bodies of the dead hunters. He suddenly looked tired, even withered. "What's wrong with him?" Kelemvor asked.
Midnight told Kelemvor all that had transpired in the Temple of Lathander, but especially how Adon had tried to save Elminster from the rift. "With his scar and his failure at the temple, Adon's certain that Sune has abandoned him," the mage concluded. "It's as if his whole world has been shattered."