“We’ve no time for this!” the governor shouted. “We stand together against the winter, or we fall!”
A rock flew at Deudermont’s head, but Robillard caught it with a spell that gracefully and harmlessly moved it aside.
The fighting broke out anew.
From a balcony at Taerl’s castle, Baram and Taerl watched it all with great amusement.
“He wants to be the ruler, does he?” Baram spat over the rail as he leaned on it and stared intently out at the hated Deudermont. “A wish he’s to come to regret.”
“Note the guards,” Taerl added. “As soon as the fighting started, they moved to groups of their own Ship. Their loyalty’s not to Deudermont or Luskan, but to a high captain.”
“It’s our town,” Baram insisted. “And I’ve had enough of Governor Deudermont already.”
Taerl nodded his agreement and watched the continuing fracas, one that he and Baram had incited with well-paid, well-fed, and well-liquored proxies. “Chaos,” he whispered, smiling all the wider.
“Oh, it’s you,” Suljack said as the tough dwarf moved through his door and into his private chambers. “What news from Ship Rethnor?”
“A great fight in the market,” the dwarf replied.
Suljack sighed and wearily rubbed a hand over his face. “Fools,” he said. “They’ll not give Deudermont a chance—the man will do great things for Luskan, and for our trade.”
The dwarf shrugged as though he hardly cared.
“Now’s not the time for us to be fighting among ourselves,” Suljack remarked, and paced the room, still rubbing at his face. He stopped and turned on the dwarf. “It’s just as Kensidan predicted. We been battered but we’ll come out all the better.”
“Some will. Some won’t”
Suljack looked at Kensidan’s bodyguard curiously at that remark. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“That fight in the market weren’t random,” said the dwarf. “Ye’re to be finding more than a few o’ yer boys hurtin’—might be a few dead, too.”
“My boys?”
“Slow on the upkeep, eh?” asked the dwarf.
Again Suljack stared at him with a thoroughly puzzled expression and asked, “Why are you here?”
“To keep ye alive.”
The question set the high captain back on his heels. “I’m a high captain of Luskan!” he protested. “I have a guard of my—”
“And ye’re needin’ more help than meself’ll bring ye if ye’re still thinking the fight in the market to be a random brawl.”
“Are you saying that my men were targeted?”
“Said it twice, if ye was smart enough to hear.”
“And Kensidan sent you here to protect me?”
The dwarf threw him an exaggerated wink.
“Preposterous!” Suljack yelled.
“Ye’re welcome,” said the dwarf, and he plopped down in a seat facing the room’s only door and stared at it without blinking.
“They found three bodies this morning,” Robillard reported to Deudermont at the next sunrise. They sat in the front guest hall of the Red Dragon Inn, which had come to serve as the official Governor’s Palace. The room boasted wide, strong windows, reinforced with intricate iron work, which looked out to the south, to the River Mirar and the main section of Luskan across it. “Only three today, so I suppose that’s a good thing. Unless, of course, the Mirar swept ten times that number out into the bay.”
“Your sarcasm knows no end.”
“It’s an easy thing to criticize,” Robillard replied.
“Because what I try to do here is a difficult thing.”
“Or a foolish thing, and one that will end badly.”
Deudermont got up from the breakfast table and walked across the room. “I’ll not argue this same point with you every morning!”
“And still, every morning will be just like this—or worse,” Robillard replied. He moved to the window and looked out into the distance of Luskan’s market. “Do you think the merchants will come out today? Or will they just cancel the next tenday’s work and pack up their wagons for Waterdeep?”
“They’ve still much to sell.”
“Or to have pilfered in the next fight, which should be in a few hours, I would guess.”
“The guards will be thick about the market this day.”
“Whose? Baram’s? Suljack’s?”
“Luskan’s!”
“Of course, foolish of me to think otherwise,” said Robillard.
“You cannot deny that High Captain Suljack sat on the dais,” Deudermont reminded. “Or that his men shouldered up to us when the market fighting died away.”
“Because his men were getting clobbered,” Robillard replied with a chuckle. “Which might be due to his sitting on that dais. Have you thought of that?”
Deudermont sighed and waved his hand at the cynical wizard. “Have Sea Sprite’s crew visible in the market as well,” he instructed. “Order them to stay close to each other, but to be a very obvious presence. The show of force will help.”
“And Brambleberry’s men?”
“For tomorrow,” Deudermont replied.
“They may be gone by then,” Robillard said. The captain looked at him with surprise. “Oh, have you not heard?” the wizard asked. “Lord Brambleberry’s veteran and cultured warriors have had quite enough of this uncouth City of Sails and intend to head back to their own City of Splendors before the winter closes the boat lanes. I don’t know when they’ll go, but have heard some remark that the next favorable tide wouldn’t be soon enough.”
Deudermont sighed and dropped his head in his hand. “Offer them bonuses if they will remain through the winter,” he said.
“Bonuses?”
“Large ones—as much as we can afford.”
“I see. You will spend all our gold on your folly before you admit you were wrong.”
Deudermont’s head snapped up and around so he could glare at the wizard. “Our gold?”
“Yours, my captain,” Robillard said with a deep bow.
“I was not wrong,” said Deudermont. “Time is our ally.”
“You will need more tangible allies than that.”
“The Mirabarrans…” Deudermont said.
“They have closed their gates,” Robillard replied. “Our merchant friends from Mirabar suffered greatly when the Hosttower exploded. Many dwarves went straight to Moradin’s Halls. You’ll not see them on the wall with Luskan’s city guard anytime soon.”
Deudermont felt and looked old indeed at that moment of great trial. He sighed again and muttered, “The high captains…”
“You will need them,” Robillard agreed.
“We already have Suljack.”
“The one least respected by the other four, of course.”
“It’s a start!” Deudermont insisted.
“And the others will surely come along to our side, since you know some of them so well already,” Robillard said with mock enthusiasm.
Even Deudermont couldn’t help but chuckle at that quip. Oh yes, he knew them. He had sunk the ships of at least two of the remaining four beneath them.
“My crew has never let me down,” Deudermont said.
“Your crew fights pirates, not cities,” came the reminder, stealing any comfort the already beleaguered governor might have garnered from his last remark.
Even Robillard recognized the man’s despair and showed him some sympathy. “The remnants of the Hosttower….”
Deudermont looked at him curiously.
“Arabeth and the others,” Robillard explained. “I will put them in and around the crew in the market square, in their full Hosttower regalia.”