Chapter 14 Chapter Eleven Helping Hands
"Tell us about the poison," High Priest Wattin said.He was one of Kai Mumoto's companions, and he was sitting in a comfortable chair in the middle of the sweltering room, his body outlined in the light from the huge, blazing stove behind him.
"Absolutely not," Morik replied, and his fingers were instantly wrung again with a thumbtip by a brutal one-eyed jailer (who didn't even bother to wear a blindfold).There is obviously more orc blood in this guy than human. "The poison, I mean," the rogue clarified, his voice pierced by the pain running up his arm.
"The poison is not the same as the one in the vial," Watin explained, nodding to the jailer, who walked around behind Morik.The rogue tried to follow the orc's movements, but his arms were bound tightly by the shackles around his wrists.One of the hands was pressed, and the other was enclosed in a strangely designed box. Several panels on the box forced the palm to spread out and the fingers to straighten, so that the jailer could have a good "play" at certain times. play" them.
The priest shrugged his shoulders and raised his hand. Before Morik could answer, the thief was hit on the bare back, and the few deep bloodstains left there were even more painful when stimulated by sweat. .
"You have poison," Wauding declared logically, "and dangerous weapons, but not the same poison as the bottle we got. A clever ruse, I guess, in order to put the We who treated Captain Deudermont's wounds have been led astray."
"A ruse indeed," said Morik dryly.The jailer whipped him again, and was raising his arms for a third blow.However, Watin raised his arms to stop the murderous thug.
"You admit it?" Wating asked.
"All of this," Morik replied, "was a ruse by someone else, targeting me and Wulfgar so that everyone could see the scene where you're arresting us now as evidence, and then when Deudermont came up to speak to us hit him—”
"Enough!" Wattin said with a palpable sense of defeat, for he and all the other interrogators had heard that answer from Morik and Wulfgar, over and over.The priest stood up, shook his head and turned away.Morik knew what that meant.
"I can tell you something else!" pleaded the rogue, but Watin just waved his arm up in contempt.
Morik was about to yell again, but he couldn't because he couldn't even breathe when the jailer punched him hard in the kidney.Morik jumped and screamed, but all he got was worse pain in his hand.Despite his restraint, the thief jumped up in pain when the jailer slammed him again, because the villain's fist was tied with a metal band studded with several thin nails.
Morik thought of the drow visitors who had come that night when he lived in the small lodging near the Cutlass.Do they know what's going on now?Are they coming back to rescue Wulfgar?If they came, would they save Morik too?For the first few hours they were locked in the same room, the rogue was close to telling Wulfgar about the dark elves, and the only thing that made him hesitate was his fear that Wulfgar was so obviously lost. His or anyone else's words may not even be heard in those painful memories.
Wouldn't it be interesting if the magistrates condemned him as an accomplice to the dark elves?In any case, the result will not be changed.At this moment, another heavy punch was blasted into his body, and then the jailer picked up the whip again, and carved some new lines on the thief's back.
If the drow did not come, then Morik knew his fate would be sealed in a path of most pain.
Robilla had only been away for a few minutes, but when he returned to Deudermont's room he found that there were now nearly half a dozen priests working quickly beside the captain.Kay Mumoto stood behind, directing the working group.
"He's burned very badly inside." The pastor explained, and from this distance alone, Robilla could tell the truth of this statement from Deudermont's flushed face and the traces of sweat running down his face sex.The mage also noticed that the room was getting colder, and he knew it was because two of the six people working around Deudermont were casting spells, not healing spells, but air-conditioning spells.
"I have spells for the same purpose," Robilla suggested. "They are powerful spells written on scrolls and placed on the Sea Spirit. I think if your priests can devote all their energy to In terms of treatment, the captain's condition may change for the better."
"Go quickly." Kai Muben said, but Robila didn't ask him to say it a second time, and immediately used a set of dimension gate magic, and returned to the Sea Spirit after a while.The mage groped among his spell-casting materials, scrolls, magic items, and exquisite handicrafts. He originally planned to organize these things when he had time. Finally, Robila found a book that recorded three refrigeration spells. Scrolls, and the required spell-casting materials.While cursing himself for not preparing well and vowing to memorize these spells with all his magical energy in the future, he opened the dimension door and returned to the chapel room.The priests were still working furiously, and here was the old apothecary woman, spreading a creamy white ointment all over Deudermont's sweat-soaked chest.
Robilar prepared the ingredients for the spell—a vial of ice troll blood, a pinch of Pyrenees hair—and unrolled the scroll, laying it out flat on a small table.He forced himself to look back at the dying Deudermont, and began to concentrate on the task at hand. With the self-control ability that a mage should know, he began to work methodically.Robilar poured some ice troll blood on her thumb and forefinger, then pinched the white bear hair with these two fingers, and began to blow on it, once, twice, three times, and then along the side of the room Bare walls spread hairs all the way to the floor.There began a crackling sound in that place, and blocks of ice appeared on the floor, bouncing and rattling, louder and louder as they increased, until at last, in a few seconds, Captain Deudermont was Lying on a new bed, it was a big pile of ice cubes.
"It's a very dangerous time," Kai Mumoto explained, "he's burned so badly that I'm afraid he might die from it. The blood from that wound is as thin as water. I have more The priests are waiting to take over when this group has exhausted their magic, and I have sent some to other churches, even those that serve other gods as rivals, to ask for their help "Kai Mubon smiled at the mage's surprise, "They will come," he said firmly to Robila, "all of them will come."
Robilar was not a man of great faith, mostly because in his days of trying to find the true God in his heart, the mage found himself mourning the constant quarrels and rivalries between the various churches.So he knew that Kay Wood had just praised and praised the captain.What a great respect Deudermont has established among these warm and upright people in the north of the Sword Coast, that because of him alone, everyone puts aside their hostility and hatred and surrounds him together .
As Kai Wooden had promised, they were all here, clerics of almost every faith in Luskan, and they cast their healing spells on the poisoned captain in groups of six at a time.
It was around midnight when Deudermont's fever finally began to subside.When he opened his tired eyes, he found that Robilar had fallen asleep beside him.The mage's head rested in bent arms on the captain's cot, next to Deudermont.
"How many days?" asked the weak captain, because he found himself in a very bad condition, and there were some very strange things here, as if he had just woken up from a long and terrible nightmare.And, although he was now wrapped in a thin quilt, the captain knew he was not sleeping in a proper bed, because that was too hard, and his back was soaked.
Robilla jumped up with a cry when she opened her eyes.He put his hand on Deudermont's forehead, and the mage's smile bloomed brightly when he felt the coldness.
"Kai Mumoto!" he yelled, noticing the curious look of the bewildered captain.
It was the most beautiful sight that Robilla had ever seen.
"Three circles." Interspersed in the tone was the snorting nasal voice of Magistrate Jarkeheld, a mean-looking, thin old man who was now acting very proud of being able to carry out the trial of Morik. excited.
This is the man who visits the dungeon cave every day to designate and announce who is time for the Prisoner's Carnival, based on the serious crimes they have committed, or, perhaps, simply because of his own good mood at the time. Bad, everyone becomes possible.A "circle" refers to the jailer who beats Morik regularly, and refers to the time it takes to walk slowly around the square where the "Prisoner's Carnival" is held, about ten minutes or so.So what Jarkeheld just meant was that at the carnival it would take three laps of inhuman torture before the onlookers heard the trial, that is to say half an hour.Morik knew that this was done to stimulate the audience, and old bastard Jackheld himself loved the cheering.
"So you've come to beat me again," said Morik, locked to the wall as the beastly jailer entered the natural stone cell, "did you bring the priest with you? Or The magistrate, perhaps? He's here to order me to go to the carnival?"
"No more fights today, Morik the Rogue," said the jailer. "They want nothing more from you. Captain Deudermont needs you no more."
"He's dead?" Morik asked, unable to mask the slightest concern in his tone.If Deudermont is dead, then Wulfgar and Morik will be charged with being hideous murderers, and Morik has been in Luskan long enough to see many murders tried , the execution time of torture is at least one day.
"No," there was palpable sadness in the jailer's voice, "no, we're not that lucky. Deudermont is alive and better than ever, so it looks like you and Wulfgar will be killed simply and quickly."
"Oh, yes," said Morik.
The brutal creature paused to look around, then crept up to Morik and delivered a series of vicious blows to his stomach and chest.
"I think Magistrate Jarkeheld will ask you to go to the carnival soon," the jailer explained. "These should be regarded as farewell presents."
"Thank you from the bottom of my heart," the rogue replied sarcastically, and a left hook caught him in the jaw, knocking out a tooth and filling Morik's mouth with warm blood. .
Deudermont's strength was returning so quickly that it was difficult for the priests to complete the task of keeping the man in bed.But they were praying for him, and healing spells were being cast, and the old woman apothecary always brought pots of tea, besides potent ointments.
"That can't be Wulfgar," Deudermont objected to Robillard, as the mage told him the whole story of what had almost turned into a disaster in front of the Cutlass tavern.
"It's Wulfgar and Morik," said Robillard firmly. "I've watched, Captain, and I've been watching, and that's a lucky thing for you!"
"It doesn't make sense to me," Deudermont replied. "I know Wulfgar."
"I used to understand." Robila corrected.
"But he's a friend of Drizzt and Catti-brie, and we all know that those two have nothing to do with any assassin—at least not a good one."
"Was friends," Robilar corrected doggedly, "and now Wulfgar is friends with thieves like Morik, a notorious street thug, and that other couple, I believe, are more He's even worse."
"Another pair?" Deudermont asked, and before the words were finished, Veran Mason entered the room with another Sea Sprite crew member.They bowed first to the captain, and both laughed broadly, for Deudermont looked much better than earlier in the day, when all the crew came to see him, to Robilar's cheerful greeting.
"Have you found them yet?" the mage asked impatiently.
"I think we've found it," Veran replied with a smug air, "on a ship two berths below the Sea Spirit."
"They didn't show up till the end," another crew member reported, "but we spoke to someone in the Cutlass who thought he knew the pair, and he told us that when the one-eyed seaman dropped the gold A look of indifference."
Robilla nodded to show that she understood.Then it was an attack with an agreement, and those two men were part of the plan.
"I hope you will allow me, Captain," said the mage, "I want to steer the Sea Spirit away from the dock."
Deudermont looked at him in bewilderment, for the captain could not make sense of the implications of this conversation.
"I sent Mr. Mason to conduct a search for the other two accomplices in this attack on you," Robilla explained. "It now looks like we may have located them."
"But Mr. Mason just said that they are in the port." Deudermont explained the reason for his confusion.
"They're staying on the Crooked-Legs Lady as passengers. Then when we drive the Sea Sprite behind them, fully armed, they'll probably surrender without a fight." Robilla explained, His eyes sparkled with excitement.
Now Deudermont finally smiled. "I just wish I could go with you," he said.Those three people immediately took this sentence as a hint, turned and ran out the door.
"What about Magistrate Jackheld?" Deudermont asked quickly, before they disappeared from sight.
"I told him to postpone the trial until the pair," replied Robilla, "as you wish. We need to keep those two to establish that the newly captured pair was indeed involved in the attack."
Deudermont nodded to signal the three to leave, and at the same time fell into his own thinking.He still couldn't believe Wulfgar was involved, but didn't know how he could prove his innocence.In Luskan, and in most of the cities of Faerûn, even the most incipient crime can get a man hanged, or quartered by four horses, or subjected to any form of hostility. Any unpleasant way of dying that the judges could think of.
"I'm an honest businessman, and you don't have any proof." The captain of the Crooked Legs Lady, Pinix, leaned over the stern rail and protested to the mighty Sea Sprite that appeared behind. Crossbows, catapults and a whole army of archers.
"As I have told you, Captain Pinix, we are not coming for your ship, not for you, but for the two men you are harboring," replied Robilla with due respect. road.
"Bah! Get the hell out of here, or I'll call the city guard!" yelled the tough, gruff old sea dog.
"It's not a difficult job," replied Robilla triumphantly, beckoning to the docks on either side of the Crooked-Legs Lady.When Captain Pinix turned his head to look, he saw a hundred city soldiers, or more, lined up on the deck with serious expressions and armed forces, as if they were ready for battle at any time.
"You have nowhere to hide and nowhere to hide," explained Robillard, "and once more I ask your permission as a courtesy. I hope it is your own will to allow me and my crew to come aboard your ship." Search for the two we are looking for."
"This is my boat!" Pinix said, pointing to his chest.
"Or I'll order my gunners to do it," added Robillard, now memorably perched aloft on the rail of the Sea Sprite, all pretense of gentility and politeness cast aside. Go to cloud nine, "Before you start imagining it, my destructive spells will join in. Then we'll search for those two ourselves among the wreckage."
For a moment Pinix looked as if he flinched, but he quickly regained his stern and determined countenance.
"I'll give you one last choice," said Robillard, his sarcastic politeness returning.
"Good choice." Pinix grumbled.He waved his hand helplessly, and the gesture signaled that Robilar and the others could come aboard his deck.
With Robila's easy identification, they found Krip Sharkey and Tiannini in a short while.They also found something interesting, on a beam near the tattooed man: a hollow tube.
"Blower," explained Veran Mason, handing it to Robillard.
"Indeed," said the mage. He inspected this strange weapon, and quickly considered its use according to its design. "Should something be blown from it?"
"Something tiny that's been processed at one end, fills this tube," Maison explained.He waved the weapon, brought it to his lips and blew on the tube, "This thing shouldn't work very well if there's too much wind around."
"You mean small? Like a cat's claw?" Robila asked, staring at the captured two, "is there a piece of soft feather tied at the end?"
Following Robbie's gaze on the poor prisoners, Veran Mason nodded grimly.
Wulfgar was lost in distant agony as he hung limply from his wrist shackles, covered in blood and wounds.The muscles on the back of his neck and shoulders had been tense for a long time, and even if he was put on the ground now, the barbarian could only change his body position by gravity alone.
The pain had been pushed toward him from so far away, so violently, that it had carried Wulfgar out of this prison.But unfortunately for the big man, this escape could only lead him to another prison, one darker than the present one, where the torture surpassed anything these cruel jailers could inflict on him.Seductive, naked, and beautiful enough to exude evil, succubus flies around him.At the end of the arm were two large claws. The crab demon kept pinching and pinching, and the sharp pincers pierced his body.And all the while he could hear Ertuna's demonic laughter as the conqueror.Errtor was a powerful baelor who hated Drizzt Do'Urden more than anyone else and poured out his rage on Wulfgar unceasingly.
"Wulfgar?" A voice came from far away, not hoarse and evil like Errtu's, but gentle and gentle.
Wulfgar knew the trap, a false hope, a false friendship.Errtu had played this trick on him countless times, grabbing him for a moment of hope, lifting him from the depths of his emotions, before throwing him ever deeper into the dark abyss of hopelessness.
"I have spoken to Morik." The voice continued, but Wulfgar did not listen to it again.
"He claims his innocence," continued Captain Deudermont doggedly, in spite of the unbelieving rage that surrounded Robilla, "but that wretch named Shakey says you're involved."
To make himself ignore the words, Wulfgar let out a growl, which he was sure was Errtu coming to torture him again.
"Wulfgar?" Deudermont asked.
"It's useless." Robila said lightly.
"Tell me something, my friend," insisted Deudermont, leaning on a cane for support, for the captain's strength was still a long way from full recovery, "tell me you're innocent so I can be with you." Magistrate Jarkeld said, let him release you."
There was no answer other than constant yelling.
"Just tell me the truth," Deudermont encouraged. "I don't believe you're going to be involved, but I must hear from you—whether I need to ask for a fairer trial."
"He will not answer you, Captain," said Robillard, "for he has nothing at this moment to say that would exonerate him."
"You've heard Morik say it," Deudermont replied, for they had just come from the cell where Morik was being held, when the little rogue had passionately declared his and Wulfgar's innocence.He explained that Crip Sharkey had indeed offered a large sum of money for Deudermont's head, but that he and Wulfgar had declined without hesitation.
"What I hear is a desperate man weaving a desperate story," Robilar replied.
"We can ask a priest to question him," said Deudermont. "Some of them have spells to detect lies."
"The laws of Luskan forbid it," replied Robilla, "too many clerics would bring some of their personal agendas into questioning. Magistrates would do it in a more successful way." .”
"He tortured them until they confessed to the crime, whether it was true or not," Deudermont added.
Robilla shrugged. "He can get results."
"He just did it to satisfy his carnival."
"How many of those on trial at the carnival do you think are innocent, Captain?" Robillard asked bluntly, "and even if they are innocent this time, there is no doubt that the punishment they are receiving is the usual punishment." retribution for committing other crimes.”
"That's a really cynical view of the trial, my friend," Deudermont said.
"It is true," replied Robilla.
Deudermont sighed and looked again at Wulfgar, who was hanging on the wall roaring, still not claiming his innocence, saying nothing.Deudermont called the man's name again, moved even closer, and said, "You must give me a reason to trust Morik."
Wulfgar felt a gentle touch, the succubus's lure into an emotional hell.With a growl, the Savage swung his arms and kicked his feet, and though this only brushed the startled captain, it was enough to push him back and stagger to the ground.
Robilar sent a goop from the tip of the staff, pinning Wulfgar's legs precisely to the wall.The bulky man struggled violently, but with both wrists firmly locked and legs immobilized, the movements had no effect other than further pain in his shoulders.
Robilar came up to him, scorning, mocking, and finally whispering something.Then the mage reached out, grabbed Wulfgar's stomach, and sent a shock of electricity into him, sending the barbarian screaming in pain.
"No!" Deudermont tried to stand up, "Don't fight anymore."
Robilar turned away with apparent reluctance, his face contorted with rage. "Do you need any more verification, Captain?" he asked.
Deudermont wanted to refute but couldn't find a reason. "Let's get out of this place," he said.
Wulfgar was alone again, hanging relatively easily until Robilar's staff wore off, the goo supporting his weight.But not long after, the shackles became something to hang him again, and his muscles felt the pain of tensing up again.He fell again, deeper and darker than before.
He wanted a bottle of wine, to let the alcohol trickle down his throat, to let this burning liquid free his will from the torment.
Notes:
Notes: