Kelemvor frowned deeply. "Isn't that my reward? A quick death?"
All emotion drained from the Black Lord's face again. "I don't want to kill you, Lyonsbane. I want to hire you to draw Midnight from her hiding place, then retrieve the Tablet of Fate from Tantras."
Kelemvor was shocked, and it clearly registered on his face. "But why me? You must have an army of loyal followers who would gladly perform such tasks for you." The fighter paused and stared at Bane. "In fact, why don't you find Midnight and retrieve the tablet yourself?"'
"She has taken refuge with the Sembian garrison and hides with them. I would have to wage a major assault against the Sembian resistance to recover her. Many lives would be lost, and in the confusion, she could easily escape." The God of Strife frowned. "On the other hand, you would be able to ferret her out of hiding and lead her into a trap with little effort. In short, you would be a perfect spy."
Kelemvor took his eyes away from the god, but Tarana grabbed his jaw and forced his gaze back. Her hands were as cold as the grave.
The God of Strife stared at the fighter for a moment. "Midnight's life is mine, no matter how you decide," Bane noted flatly. "No matter what you do, I will have her. I am a god, after all." The red-haired man took a step toward Kelemvor. "Never forget that."
"Aye," Kelemvor said flatly. The chains were digging into the fighter's flesh, and the pain reminded him of the gravity of his situation. Bane would certainly kill him if he didn't cooperate, and that would put an end to his dream of somehow living a normal life, even for a few years.
And Kelemvor knew that the God of Strife could capture — no, would capture — Midnight, whether he helped the fallen god or not. But the fighter loved the magic-user. At least he thought he did. And there was very little he would trade that for.
"I still haven't told you what I offer," the Black Lord said, as if he were reading Kelemvor's mind. "You must know what I am willing to do for you before you can make a decision."
The fighter stared into the blood-red eyes of the god-made-flesh. Bane moved a step closer, and Kelemvor saw his own reflection in the god's eves.
"I offer an end to your suffering," Bane whispered. "Do as I ask, and I will remove the curse of the Lyonsbanes from you!"
Bane's words hit Kelemvor like a lightly padded mace. For a moment, the fighter's senses reeled as he turned the possibility of release from the curse over in his mind. After a moment, Kelemvor once again focused his attention on the Black Lord.
"My family has sought an end to the curse of our bloodline for generations. How do I know you can deliver what you promise?" the fighter asked, his voice low and taut with emotion. "A bag of gold I can see and feel. Its weight comforts the curse. A promise such as you have made appeals to my dreams, but will likely do little else. After I do your dirty work, then you will renege on your promise."
Smiling, Bane ran his hand over his face. "You forget you are speaking to a god," Bane said, the false grin dropping from his lips. "I do not offer what I cannot produce." The fallen god turned away from the fighter for a moment and struggled to control his anger. When he turned, his smile had returned.
"You know how bargains work, Lyonsbane. You've had to live all your life wondering if a man would keep his word." The God of Strife paused and put his hand around Kelemvor's throat. "That's why I know I can depend on you to keep your part of our bargain after I've removed the curse."
Kelemvor's heart began to race. "After?"
"Of course," Bane said flatly. "I cannot expect you to serve me if I haven't made it clear that your curse has ended."
"B-But how can you remove the curse when so many others have failed?" Kelemvor asked breathlessly.
"You keep forgetting… I am a god," Bane growled, tightening his grip on Kelemvor's throat ever so slightly. "There is nothing I cannot accomplish."
A heavy breath escaped from Kelemvor's lips.
"You doubt the word of the God of Strife?" Tarana gasped. She backed away from the fighter and drew a small knife from the folds of her robe. Bane shook his head, and Tarana put her dagger away.
"My family has petitioned gods in the past," Kelemvor stated, swallowing hard.
"But not a single cursed member of the Lyonsbanes has ever believed in a god before," Bane stated and removed his hand from the fighter's throat. The God of Strife stroked the fighter's face gently.
"That's the key," Bane purred. "A god will grant no mercy and no favors to one who does not believe completely. You may not be a follower of mine — not yet, anyway — but you know what I am. You believe that I am the Black Lord, the God of Strife. You have faith that I am all that I say I am."
Kelemvor nodded slowly.
"That is enough. That faith is all I need," Bane said softly. "And your answer." The fallen god paused and turned away from the fighter again. "What shall it be, Kelemvor Lyonsbane? One final mission, and in return, the fulfillment of all your dreams. Or would you languish here until you die? You must decide."
The blond sorceress had returned to the Black Lord's side, and together, they waited patiently for Kelemvor to give his answer.
VIII
For what seemed like hours, Midnight and Adon followed Varden and Gratus through the secret tunnels that wound beneath the streets of Scardale. Finally they reached a dead end. Panic set in for the mage when she saw the blocked tunnel. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Durrock discovered their escape and followed them. After all, there had been no way to seal the entrance to the tunnels behind them. And the last thing Midnight wanted was to be trapped in the labyrinth beneath the town with the assassins.
"Not to worry," Gratus said as the mage stared at the blockage in front of them. "Look up."
The first rung of a ladder lay a few feet over the old merchant's head. Varden brushed Gratus aside and leaped to grab the lowest rung. After hauling himself up and climbing for a moment, the thief let out a moan when he bumped his head at the top of the passage. Varden strained against the barrier over his head and was relieved to find that the trap door slid aside.
A shaft of amber light, filtered through the dirty carpet that lay over the hole, pierced the tunnel. Cautiously Varden drew his dagger and cut through the rug. The light intensified as the carpet fell away into the tunnel. When the gap in the material was large enough, the thief poked his head through and looked into the room they had found. Varden was surprised to find that he was in some kind of abandoned inn.
A few tables were scattered around the room, which was filled with light from several windows, plus a number of holes in the walls and ceiling. Dust and debris covered everything in the taproom, including the thin amber carpet that surrounded Varden.
"It seems to be clear," the thief whispered as he turned back to the tunnel. "Hurry, though. I'm not exactly sure where we are."
Gratus swore softly and started to climb the ladder, after a helpful boost from Adon. Then Midnight and Adon exited the tunnel. When they looked around the taproom, the heroes saw that Varden was crouched next to one of the few intact windows in the building, surveying the streets beyond.
"I think we're close to what used to be the Cormyrian garrison." The thief paused and turned back toward Midnight. "We're not far from the place where the remaining soldiers from the various garrisons opposing the Zhents have hidden. The Zhentilar call them the 'Sembian Resistance.'"
"I think the Sembians made that up," Gratus chuckled as he led the heroes to the back of the inn. They quietly crept out into an alley, then started off toward the Sembians hiding place.
On the street, at the front of the inn, there was little activity. Varden took the lead, while Gratus used his knowledge of the layout of Scardale to guide the party to the secret outpost. Resistance fighters from the various garrisons were encountered from time to time, but they recognized Varden and Gratus and presented no problem. There was a close brush with a band of Zhentilar only blocks away from the hiding place, but the heroes managed to evade the soldiers.