As the wagon drew close, Man lifted the hood of her tattered gray cloak and gripped her stout walking stick tightly in one hand. Back bent, she hobbled out onto the avenue, directly in the wagon's path. The driver swore loudly, pulling back on the reins. The wagon clattered to a stop just short of Man's shambling form.

"Hey there, old woman!" the driver shouted. "Make way, unless you want to spend the night in Cutter's dungeon." Mari just stood there, muttering under her breath as if she were some simpleminded old crone.

"Gods, Brim, get the old witch off the road, will you?" the driver snapped. "Cutter'll have our heads if we're late to the countinghouse."

"All right, all right," the other Zhentarim said in annoyance, climbing off the wagon. He swaggered toward Mari. "You're in our way, hag. Be off with you, before we do something to you that you wouldn't like." He flashed a lurid grin at his partner, but in the moment his head was turned Mari hefted the gnarled walking stick and swung it in a whistling arc. It struck the Zhent's jaw with a resounding crack, and the guard sprawled to the ground.

"I guess that will teach you to respect your elders," Mari said with a grim laugh.

"By all the bloody gods!" the driver shouted in shock. "You'll pay for that, you crazy old witch!" He stood up, drawing his short sword, but he never had the chance to swing it. A dark form leaped from the overhanging branch of an oak tree, landing nimbly on the roof of the wagon. The driver turned around in surprise-just as Caledan's boot caught him square in the face, shattering his nose. The Zhent tumbled out of the wagon and rolled into the foul muck of the gutter.

"Care for a ride, old woman?" Caledan asked with a smirk. Mari smiled back. The two took a moment to strip the dead Zhents of their dark leather uniforms.

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you, scoundrel?" Mari hopped up into the wagon as Caledan flicked the reins.

“It never hurts to take pride in your work," Caledan remarked as the wagon bounced along into the night.

Before guiding the horses onto the steep road that led up the face of the Tor, Caledan halted the wagon. Quickly he and Mari donned the uniforms of the dead Zhents. Then they continued up the Tor, winding through the dim streets of the Old City. Both tensed when a trio of city guards rode by on horseback, but the guards simply saluted and continued on their way.

Caledan brought the wagon to a halt at the base of a tall spire in the shadow of the city lord's tower. Cormik's multifarious eyes and ears had learned that this was Cutter's primary countinghouse. The lion's share of the money that her guards extorted from Iriaebor's ships and caravans passed through here on its way to her coffers.

"Are you ready?" Caledan asked Mari as he brought the wagon to a stop in the courtyard.

"Worry about yourself, Caldorien, not me," she said crisply as she stepped down from the wagon. Caledan merely shrugged, following suit. Mari opened the wagon's rear door. Inside was a jumble of swords, shields, bolts of cloth, and pieces of ivory, but after a moment Caledan found what he was looking for-a small iron-banded casket filled with coins. He lifted, grunting with effort.

Mari's heart was beating swiftly in her chest, but she forced herself to walk boldly alongside Caldorien to the tower's stout wooden door. She rapped on the portal with a black-gloved hand. After a moment the door swung open. A meaty-looking guard glared out unpleasantly at them.

"We've got a delivery," Caledan said.

Mari was surprised at his suddenly brisk military demeanor. It was a convincing act. She nodded, doing her best to imitate Caldorien. "It's the caravan gold," she added harshly. "We had a good haul today."

"Avdis has been waiting for you," the massive man said gruffly. Then suspicion glittered in his eyes. "Say, I don't know you, do I?"

Caledan shrugged. "Your loss, friend. Brim got sick tonight, and his partner, too."

"Sick?"

Caledan nodded grimly. "Plague. But it's all right. I don't think he coughed on me. How about you?" he asked, turning to Mari.

"Oh, not more than a couple of times," she replied flatly. "He was almost dead, after all."

Swiftly, the massive guard retreated several steps, his meaty hand pressed to his mouth. "Gods, get on with you!" he said, waving them past quickly.

"Thanks, friend," Caledan said. "We'd hate to keep Avdis waiting."

He and Mari strode past as the doorkeeper repeatedly made the sign against the evil eye. They reached the floor of a spiral staircase and proceeded upward. They passed several floors where they caught glimpses of city guards gambling, sleeping, or sharpening weapons. Mari and Caledan exchanged concerned looks. The message was clear: getting out might not be as easy as getting in had been. The stairway opened up into a circular chamber.

The chamber was lit all around with bronze oil lamps. Windows faced in all four directions. The ceiling was a high tiled dome. There was little furniture in the room besides a large table and a chair, on which sat a flabby middle-aged man with a pointed ratlike nose and beady ratlike eyes. The man was counting gold coins, muttering to himself as he piled them in neat, precise stacks. He looked like a child hoarding his favorite toys and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. After long moments, Mari cleared her throat.

"Blast it!" the rat-faced man-apparently Avdis- squealed. "You've made me lose my count!" He looked up, but he barely noticed Mari and Caledan. Instead his eyes locked immediately upon the small chest Caledan held. "Well, what are you standing around for?" he snapped impatiently. "Bring that over here. Hurry!"

Caledan did as he was bid. Avdis pulled out a silver key he wore on a chain around his neck and unlocked the chest. He eagerly flipped back the lid, then let out a sigh of delight at the gold and silver within. He reached out with eager fingers to scoop up some of the precious metal, but a black-gloved hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Not so fast, friend," Caledan said. He smiled nastily. Avdis stared at him in dull confusion, then his eyes widened in comprehending horror.

"Not my gold!" he gasped. Caledan nodded solemnly. The little man drew in a deep breath as if to scream, but when he saw the threatening glimmer of Mari's knife he stifled the impulse.

Caledan picked up some of the gold and let it tumble though his fingers as Avdis watched, licking his rubbery lips. "You know," Caledan mused, "gold and silver are so heavy. Why don't you show us something a bit lighter, Avdis?" Avdis groaned. "Something in jewels, perhaps?"

Within minutes the sacks Mari and Caledan had tucked inside their uniforms were bulging with jewels. It represented at least a half-month's income for Ravendas, Mari was certain. There had been no need to tie up Avdis. He had slumped to the floor, quivering there as Mari and Caledan riffled through various chests and boxes, relieving them of their valuable contents. Concealing their burdens as best they could, they started down the stairs.

"I hope no one notices we've put on a little weight all of a sudden," Caledan commented wryly.

They were halfway down the staircase when suddenly a small, unnoticed rip in one of Caledan's sacks opened wider. A single, brilliant emerald slipped out of his jerkin and tumbled down the stairs. The gem bounced brightly down the stairwell and came to rest on a stone step, right at the foot of a Zhentarim warrior who had been walking in their direction.

Mari and Caledan froze. The Zhentarim was a grizzled fellow, an officer of some sort. Slowly he bent down and picked up the shining emerald. He stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, then looked up at Mari and Caledan, baring his yellowed teeth in a grin. The two grinned back weakly.