Part 26
The noble estates of Elturel were located for the most part on a low rise just inside the city walls near the eastern gate. In stark contrast to the crowded blocks of the rest of the city, the opulent manor homes and well-tended gardens in this district were spread out lazily over the gentle slopes of the hill, with the size of each estate giving a not-so-subtle clue as to the long-term standing of that family in the affairs of the city. Few of the city’s commoners came up here without pressing business, and armed guards in the livery of their lords were commonplace, watching all pedestrians with hawk-like eyes.
But the clean and well-maintained streets of Lords’ Hill were empty now, as the hour approached midnight and the rain continued unabated. That did not mean that eyes were not watching, as the noble lords paid well to ensure that their luxuries were protected at all times of day, and in all sorts of weather. But no one saw the four shadowy forms that made their way up from the more crowded section of the city via shadowed alleyways and neglected shortcuts. The night was so deep that even the miserable patrols of city watchmen who splashed through the streets in sopping cloaks could not see beyond the faint circle of light cast by their lanterns, and they were easily avoided by the stealthy quartet. At last they neared their destination, a darkened estate surrounded by a high stone wall with a heavy iron gate facing out into the street. The dark shadow of the manor house was just visible back in the distance, shrouded by numerous evergreen trees.
The four crept up to one of the walls that ran along the side of the estate, ducking down amidst the bushes that grew right up to the mold-encrusted stone.
“Well, here we are,” Benzan said.
“How did you know how to get here?” Cal asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
“Well, I had an idea that we might end up on the Hill at some point, so I asked some questions,” Benzan said. “You’d be surprised what you can learn if you keep your ears open.”
Cal frowned at the tiefling, but didn’t question him. Whatever his motivations had been, his knowledge had gotten them here.
“Well, which way do we go?” Lok asked. “Front gate?”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Benzan said. “If I was responsible for security for this place, that’s the first place that I’d put a trap. Let’s take a look around back.”
They followed the tiefling along the length of the wall, trudging through the mud at its base. Delem, who could not see at all, stayed right behind Lok, one hand on the genasi’s shoulder and another on the wall to guide him. At least they took some solace in the fact that if he could not see anything, it was unlikely that anyone would be able to see them.
That was the thought, anyway.
They followed the wall for its entire length before it gave way to a hedgerow of roughly equal height that ran along the slope of the hill for as far as they could see. After a quick look around, Benzan crept forward and peered through the thick vegetation.
“It looks like another estate backs up against this one,” he told the others. “The wall continues straight ahead, perpendicular to the way we just came.”
“Looks like we have to go over,” Cal said, looking up at the top of the obstacle, fully five feet higher than the top of his head.
For Benzan, however, it was just a few extra feet. “Boost me up,” he said to Lok, who looked like a wall himself as he leaned back against the stony surface to provide leverage for the tiefling.
“It’s not that high—why don’t you just jump up?” Delem said. He could distinguish the line of the wall’s upper edge above them, but that was about it in the darkness.
“Because, if it were me, I would line the top of the wall with shards of broken glass set in mortar, to discourage just that sort of activity,” Benzan said, his tone slightly condescending as Lok carefully levered him upward against the wall. The tiefling peered over for a long moment, then dropped back down to the ground. “I didn’t see anything, but there will probably be guards,” he whispered.
“So, what’s our plan?” Delem asked.
“Benzan will lead,” Cal said. The others, including the tiefling, nodded, respecting Benzan's abilities of stealth. “But be careful,” he said, to all of them. “Remember, we’re still invading the private home of a noble, and we still don’t have any hard evidence that would stand up at an inquiry, just hints and circumstance. And we might be wrong, after it all. Let’s not kill anybody until we find out for sure, one way or the other.”
“And once we’re inside?”
“Delem, can you use that spell that you used on the smith again?” Cal asked. The sorcerer nodded. “Lok, you stay with Delem, and be his eyes. If necessary, use sleep spells to take out any guards. I’ll use my own magic as well, and keep your weapons ready, but remember… quietly!”
“All ready, then?” Benzan asked. Once everyone had whispered their assent, he leapt up and nimbly darted back up atop the wall.
“All clear,” he said. “Lift up Cal, and then I’ll set a rope to help Lok. Delem, you go last—you should be able to jump right up.”
They navigated the wall quickly, and within a few moments they were all in the lee of the far side.
They were committed.
* * * * *
Another was committed, as well.
In a shadowy room encased in stone, the ordinary-looking man in the common woolens sat quietly in a small chair, his eyes half-closed as if he were about to fall asleep. He swayed slightly as his thoughts ranged far, but opened his eyes as a shadow entered the room. This shadow was not merely a stealthy man, but rather some entirely different manner of creature, for it passed through the wall, and what little light did reach it seemed to pass right through its insubstantial body.
“They draw near,” it said, its voice a sibilant whisper that sounded like the soft promise of oblivion to a dying man.
“Very well,” the man replied after a moment. The news was not that great a surprise, not after what he had seen of the fate of his agent in the warehouse along the docks. “Monitor their progress, and hinder them if you can, but do not reveal yourself to them until they have reached the first ward.”
The shadow hovered there, and for a moment it seemed to be undecided, for it drifted a short distance into the room, toward a dark object nearby.
“Stop!” the man said, and his voice held an echo of power that indeed brought the undead thing to an immediate halt. “You were bound over to me, and you will obey!”
“Yes, master,” the shadow hissed, and it retreated back through the stone.
The man rose, and walked over to the object that had so lured the shadow. He brought one of the candles with him, and touched the flame to two other tapers atop a table there. The brighter light illuminated the dark object enough to reveal that it was a man, gagged and bound securely to a heavy stone chair. The prisoner looked up as the man approached, and he started to struggle faintly but earnestly against his bonds.
“I am sorry that it had to come to this,” the man said to the captive. “But it seems as if our secret is out, and I’m afraid that your usefulness to me has come to an end.” The prisoner’s struggles intensified as his captor paused, and uttered a brief invocation. In response, a glowing energy surrounded him momentarily, seeping into his body, strengthening him with divine power as it faded.
The prisoner was trying to say something through his gag, but the spellcaster ignored him. He walked a short distance to the end of the table, where a rack held a breastplate that reflected the light of the candles in the polished metal. He put the armor on quickly and efficiently, then turned back to the prisoner.
“You can take some solace in that you will make one last sacrifice for the cause,” he said, taking a scroll out of an inner pocket as he spoke. “Though I don’t imagine that it will be that pleasant an experience…”
Ignoring the prisoner’s desperate struggles, he unrolled the scroll and began to read.
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