As nightfall approached, Kelv maintained his vigil at the slim window of the inn room. They had been given a large room on the third floor, the best room in the inn. The innkeeper continued being almost uncomfortably polite and amiable, as were most of the other ch'tarens in the inn--it was as if the ch'tarens were determined to temper the Knights' resolute, militant demeanor with their own graciousness.
From the window Kelv had a perfect view of the tower of Shelratha. The ch'lonin had glistened a warm amber color as the sun had set behind the tower, the veins crisscrossing the tower looking like streaks of frozen lightning. High up, at the top of the tower, tiny figures could still be barely seen against the twilight sky, patrolling the crenelated parapets.
"A plan have you, Kelv?" asked Dust, who was sitting on his bunk, thumbing through one of the thick volumes he had stowed in his backpack. The tall caladaran, wrapped in sand-brown robes that matched the color of his wavy brown hair and rough skin, had chosen to stay behind while Falandil and Korchanja went out to see an acquaintance in the city.
"I'm going to try for the entrance during the changing of the guards, the last change before daybreak. I've been watching the guards on the battlements. If the guards on the ground floors follow the same shift pattern, they'll be on duty for four hours, then rotate."
"Sounds reasonable, it does. But, consider, the tower will guarded be, by magic of the ch'taren mages also."
"I know, I know. But I can't do much about that." Kelv glanced over at Dust, who had set the book down and was studying Kelv with the same intensity that he had been giving to the rune-covered pages in the book.
"Not much can I do either, against the wardings of spirit. But what spells I have, to strengthen your arm and protect you, available to you they are."
"Thanks. I'm sure they'll help." Kelv was a little surprised at the offering of help--Dust seemed so withdrawn that Kelv sometimes wondered if the scholar was lost in magical trances more often than not. Still curious about the nickname, and hoping to continue to the seedling friendship the scholar had extended, Kelv said, "I asked Falandil and Korchanja why they called you Dust, but they just laughed. That isn't your true name, is it?"
"No, Lossandas it is. By He-Who-Molds-Mountains, did you truly think that name her child after soil, my mother would?" Dust broke into a strange, drawn-out laugh, the first Kelv had heard from him. Dust's laugh sounded like a donkey, kicked in the gut during the middle of its braying. "No, this comes from a mishap I had. In my first battle as a Knight, fighting a band of srryn for possession of a Powerstone, the leader of Knight mages blinded was, by my misfired sandblast spell. Named me many things, Lord Idris did, before the pain and blindness faded, but the main was "Damned Dust Cloud". The Knights have since called me Dust."
Kelv hooted with laughter, and Dust again broke in to his braying laugh, when the door opened.
"It sounds like these two are having a good time--perhaps we should leave them to their merriment?" Falandil asked Korchanja, as they entered and set their weapons aside. Kelv cleared his throat, and Dust's laugh died away.
"I don't think so," said Korchanja, "because Kelv has work to do." He gave Kelv a pointed look.
The streets of Jh'ten were silent. Kelv walked at a casual pace, taking a twisting serpentine route from The Trader's Blessing toward the base of the tower. The moment of the test had finally arrived, and he felt oddly calm. Somehow, he had shaken off the nervousness that had plagued him during the trip-- the waiting was over. He had a daunting task ahead, and as he walked he tried not to think about angry spiritlords with ch'lonin-streaked blades. He was confident in his skills, and would take things one step at a time.
A slight smile crept across his thin lips, as he thought of how few people were about--the streets back in Var Bandor or Earendam would still be filled with crowds and noise at this hour. Fewer witnesses here, all the fewer to notice the silent human foreigner.
His smile quickly faded, as he then considered that being one of the handful in the streets at this hour made him that much more conspicuous. With only a slight effort, he gently relaxed his step, and shifted his posture. To a casual observer, he would have completely disappeared from sight. He hadn't disappeared, of course, like a mage might; rather, he had simply called upon his thieving stealth skills--walking with complete silence, standing and moving so that his thin frame took advantage of every deep shadow, every angled protrusion, every barrier to sight. Thieves and assassins had mastered the secrets of rogue stealth long ago, and these secrets had been passed down in the guilds, and drilled into Kelv by a demanding thief guildmaster. Kelv could walk down the same street in broad daylight and remain unseen to all, save others who also knew the secrets of rogue stealth, and knew what to look for.
From shadow to shadow, wall's edge to wagon to wheel cart, he noiselessly slipped along the twilight-dimmed streets. Twice he passed ch'tarens who hurried by without the faintest awareness of the thief in the shadows, an arm's length away.
Kelv turned onto a narrow side-street that led directly up the four remaining city blocks to the tower grounds. He paused for a moment at the street corner, and glanced back down the wide avenue he had been on. There was the slightest movement within the shadows of a vendor's stall, some twenty yards back. Kelv had been followed.
His heart began to pound fiercely, as he considered his options. He didn't know how long he had been followed, but attempting to shake off the pursuer and still go to the tower was definitely out. They may have an idea of where he had been headed. He could attempt an all-out run, but not knowing the streets well, he would likely be caught if the pursuer gave chase. He had his daggers, and was wrapped in Dust's protective and strengthening spells. He could attempt...
Three figures, not one, detached themselves from the shadows of the stall, before Kelv could decide on a course of action. They were garbed in loose-fitting dun-colored silks, with hoods that hid their features. They blended perfectly with the dappled gray stone of the walls and street--if it weren't for one of them moving at precisely the wrong moment, Kelv would never have spotted them.
One of them raised a hand, and began to sign to Kelv in thief's cant, the silent gesturing language of the thieves guild. Kelv relaxed, and inhaled deeply. The hand was a translucent golden color--these were friendly ch'taren thieves, locals who were probably just curious about what the visiting thief was up to. True enough, this was the first question asked.
Kelv responded in cant with an obvious lie, something about wanting to see the beautiful city by night. It was the only thing that came to mind.
The ch'tarens looked at each other briefly, and then a second ch'taren gestured that Kelv should be sure to stop by the thieves guildhouse, and check with the guildmaster before attempting any "work". This was a standard policy among thieves, one of many thieves guild rules aimed at enabling their guilds throughout the land to maintain tight control over the local underground activities. The ch'taren briefly gave Kelv the general directions to the guildhouse.
Kelv assured them that he would check in with the guildmaster soon, and at that, the silent conversation ended. The three turned back down the street, and merged again with the shadows.
Kelv decided to continue on down the avenue rather than take the side-street towards the tower. He would have to return to the inn, now. Perhaps in a few hours, he could attempt to approach the tower again. Regardless of when he made the next attempt, he would have to be far more cautious from now on. Far, far more. He guessed that he and the Knights were being watched; and even worse, that every rogue on the island would soon know that there was a suspicious-looking human thief in their midst.
He didn't bother to use stealth on his way back to the inn. It would have been too difficult, trying to concentrate on silent movement while he was furiously thinking of what he might tell the Knights. He nearly stumbled on an upraised cobblestone while imagining Korchanja's reaction to Kelv not even making the tower grounds.
Kelv did pause a few times, however, long enough to check the road behind him. He was still being followed. So much for trust among thieves. At least he had made the right choice by returning to the inn rather than continuing on to the tower.
Once at the inn, he nodded in reply to the warm greetings of the few ch'taren still in the common room, and climbed the bannistered stairs up to the third floor. Pausing before the door to the Knights' room, he took a last deep breath, and pushed it open. There sat Falandil, Korchanja, and Dust at the round oak table that centered the room, looking expectantly at him. They must have somehow known he was returning sooner than expected.
"Well..." He swallowed. "Uh, well, you see..." Kelv started, his face slowly reddening.
