Vambran worked his way across the compound and to the stables. When he got to the yard, he found the dwarf standing outside the large building, huddled with a number of other men, all soldiers who served in Vambran's platoon. He strolled up to them, noting that they didn't seem to be paying any attention to any horses at the moment.

"I got a message that we have a horse problem," Vambran said casually, eyeing the small group.

Grolo turned to face the lieutenant.

"More like a priority problem," the dwarf replied, and he stepped aside and let Vambran get a better look at the rest of the group. Hiding in the midst of the others were Adyan and Horial.

Vambran broke into a quick grin at the sight of his two sergeants.

"What are you two up to?" he asked slyly.

"We've just been explaining our little problem to Sergeant Grolo here," Horial said, tilting his head sideways to indicate the dwarf. "We explained how this latest campaign is likely to turn out rotten, what with our lieutenant distracted by events going on at home and all."

"He thinks that's bad for morale," Adyan drawled. "He doesn't want a lieutenant who isn't fit for battle heading up any part of the company."

"And you, sir, aren't fit for battle right now," Horial remarked. "At least, you aren't so long as your family's in the middle of some trouble."

Vambran turned to look at Grolo, who stood with his thick arms folded across his stout chest.

"And you believe these two no-good, worthless soldiers?" he asked the dwarf.

Grolo spat on the ground and said, "From what I hear, you're the best thing that ever happened to these two, and most others who have served under you." At that, there was a murmured chorus of assent from the rest of the group. "And, after what I saw last night at the warehouse, I'm pretty much figuring they're right."

Vambran gave the dwarf a shrug of placid acceptance.

"They're good men," he said in all candor. "I'm honored to have them in my unit."

"When the politics of the temple starts getting in the way of the effectiveness of the Crescent, something's wrong," Grolo said, spitting on the ground again. "And I'm thinking something's wrong."

Vambran nodded again, still unsure what the dwarf was getting at.

"We'll cover for you as long as we can, Lieutenant," Sergeant Grolo announced. "You go take care of what you need to, and we'll make do here while you're gone."

Vambran's smile became a much larger grin, then. He reached out a hand and clasped the dwarf's.

"You have my gratitude," he said sincerely. "I owe you for this. All of you," he said to the whole group. "I can tell you now, though, that by stepping into the middle of this mess with me, you're putting yourselves directly in front of the temple's scowling eye. There may very well be severe repercussions."

"Ah, we'll repercuss when the time comes," Adyan said, his country accent stronger than normal. "They can't do much without an army, can they?" he added, laughing, and the rest of the men nodded their assent.

"All right, then," Vambran said, turning to go. "I'll try to get word to you or get back here as soon as I can."

"Ah, sir?" Horial said, causing Vambran to pause and turn back. "You forgot your ride," the sergeant told him.

Vambran didn't understand until one of the men led a saddled and bridled horse out into the yard from the stables. Then he grinned anew.

"Very clever," he said, moving to the animal and mounting up. "Thanks again."

He urged the horse into a trot out through the gate, and very quickly, Vambran was riding at a rapid canter toward his family's estate.

Kovrim stepped out through the great front doors of the Temple of Waukeen and made his way down the broad steps to the pathway below, which led to the street. Instead of following the path, though, the priest turned to the side and began to walk across the great lawn that surrounded the temple. As he walked, he studiously observed his footfalls, avoiding the temptation to glance around to see if anyone was watching.

Even though the priest believed he had restored Grand Trabbar Lavant's office to its original condition, he was fearful of being discovered. A sense of dread pervaded his mood, made him worry that he'd forgotten some minute detail, some crucial piece of information that would make none of his concerns real. But every time he examined it, Kovrim came to the same conclusion. He had the information that had been eluding him and his niece and nephew for the past three days. He knew who was behind the murders of Jithelle and Hoytir, the two servants who'd worked at House Pharaboldi. Not only that, but he had a pretty good idea just what the three Houses were plotting, and it made his stomach heave to contemplate.

Just considering the possibility made Kovrim quicken his steps, and he had to force himself to slow down to avoid looking suspicious. He continued across the grass, past the tall trees and the benches in the little groves, down the hill toward another boulevard that he could take up to the next district, and he would cut across a small plaza and head directly toward the merchants' district. He had to let Vambran know.

The priest kept telling himself that he had a perfectly good explanation in case anyone stopped him and demanded to know where he was off to. After all, he actually was supposed to be attending Emriana's birthday party that evening. Of course, he had put off departing until the last minute, and it was those final precious moments that had allowed him to discover the truth. He would have to hurry to avoid being late, but at the same time, he sensed that hurrying too much would draw unwanted attention.

His thoughts swirling back and forth with all of his knowledge, Kovrim didn't at first notice the pair of figures standing casually at the far end of the path he was following through the gardens. When he did glance up, he did a double take. It was a pair of Halanthi priests, apparently wrapped in conversation. He carefully avoided directing his gaze straight at them, looking for an inconspicuous alternate route. It was too late to turn aside and avoid them, though. He would either have to continue on, coming face to face with them, or double back, making it clear that he was trying to avoid them. His hands trembled, fearing that he'd been found out.

Despite his desire to avoid looking guilty, Kovrim faltered a step. Were they really waiting for him? It was possible that they just happened to have been on a walk themselves, out for a stroll and stopping for a respite. He could walk right by them, he thought. But in his heart, Kovrim knew they were not there by chance. Some premonition told him they were there specifically to waylay him. Lavant knew that he had discovered the Grand Trabbar's secrets. The high priest had sent those two to intercept him, prevent him from revealing what he knew.

Whether his fears were accurate or he was just losing his nerve, Kovrim made the decision to turn away. He could not be caught. He had to warn Vambran. He stopped and half turned around, snapping his fingers, hoping he made it appear that he had simply forgotten something. It was a feeble hope, but he could think of nothing else.

The moment it became clear to the two priests that Kovrim was not going to walk any closer to them, they both came alive, watching him overtly. He spun completely away, ready to sprint back down the path. But two more Halanthi were blocking his exit, about equidistant from him. His heart sank. They had him cornered.

Kovrim considered just turning and running into the midst of the gardens, losing his pursuers in the lush undergrowth of vines, bamboo, and trees. But the four priests were much younger than he, and he doubted he could outrun them, even if he did manage to vanish from their sight temporarily. The other option was to confront them, try to browbeat them to back off, but he doubted that would work. They had their instructions, and Lavant undoubtedly made it clear that they were to prevent him from leaving at all costs. That left just one more possibility. And despite the fact that he was more advanced than any of the other four, and his divine magic powerful enough to rebuke them, given enough time, their advantage lay in their numbers. Kovrim doubted he would be able to cast more than twice before they incapacitated him.