Beltrim shrugged and nodded. "Good enough for me," he said, rising. "We'll be ready to move out within the hour."

"Good. I knew I could get results with you. That's why I made the pay so generous."

At that comment, Beltrim smiled. "We'll take care of it," the mercenary captain said.

"Good. Now I must beg my leave of you. Many other details to attend to."

As Beltrim nodded his understanding, the man across the table from him stood, gave a quick overly dramatic salute, muttered something unintelligible, and vanished. Beltrim snorted at the brazen display of magic then turned to find one of his aides and get his men rousted.

There was fighting to be done.

The shift in temperature between the outskirts of the Nunwood and the Grand Trabbar's private chambers was abrupt, but Darvin was used to it. As the vista changed from coastal grassland to opulent study before his very eyes, the man couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. His magical boots were one of his most prized possessions, and even after all those years of owning them, he still delighted in their use. They had saved his neck on more than a few occasions, and being able to instantly teleport himself to distant places and back with a thought and a word had given him the upper hand in numerous scrapes over the years.

"I wish you would at least find some closet in which to appear and knock on my doors like a proper guest," Grand Trabbar Lavant muttered, not even looking up from the huge desk where he sat, furiously scribbling on a sheet of parchment. "I like you, but I enjoy my privacy more."

Darvin chuckled. "You would protect your privacy at the cost of having someone see me roaming around your grand temple?" he asked. "Spotting someone such as myself deep in its interior, knocking at your doors, would certainly raise some unpleasant questions, don't you think? How secure would your position be if the other high priests knew that you consorted with the likes of Junce Roundface, known scoundrel?"

Lavant sighed. "Enough. Your point is made. Just do not make a habit of showing up in the dark of night. I might confuse you for a burglar and slay you on the spot." Lavant did look up then, giving his visitor a level stare.

Darvin let the smile slide from his face and stared right back, but he did not say anything. He respected the priest sitting before him, for Grand Trabbar Lavant was nothing if not thorough and exceptionally competent, two qualities he appreciated.

He's just defending his territory, as a dog might, the man told himself. As I would, he had to admit, albeit grudgingly.

"I'll do my level best not to startle you during your beauty sleep," Darvin said with a second chuckle. "Or when you're in the midst of a dalliance with one of the maids," he added.

The Grand Trabbar smirked and rolled his eyes but turned back to his writing. "You obviously appeared out of thin air for a reason. Speak of it."

Darvin strolled over to a side table where a crystal decanter sat on a tray, along with several matching cups. He selected one, removed the stopper from the decanter, and poured a bit of the amber-colored liquid into it. The assassin took a single sip and let the flavors roll about on his tongue. There was a hint of honey there, as well as something like toasted almonds, and it was all overlaid with a smoky burning sensation that tickled his throat as it went down.

"The attack on Lady's Favor didn't go quite as Grozier and the others had hoped," Darvin said at last, turning back and crossing over to an overstuffed chair opposite the desk. "They sank her quickly enough, and I'd suspect most of the crew went down with her, but the Crescents were better prepared than Falagh realized and used magic to aid in their survival and escape. I'm not sure what he was expecting, but Grozier was not very happy with Falagh."

"Any determination of Kovrim's and Vambran's fates?" Lavant asked, setting his quill down at last and peering across his desk at the other man.

"Vambran lives, but I am not certain of Kovrim. The wizard could not focus the spell on anyone but Matrell, and we watched him run across the water toward shore. Many of the other men with him did the same thing, but I couldn't tell if Lazelle was among them."

"Perhaps I should have given Falagh Mestel more warning; Kovrim Lazelle is nothing if not resourceful, and I would expect nothing less than for him to supply the troops with all manner of useful magic for just such eventualities as today."

"There is more," Darvin said before taking another sip of his drink. "Grozier decided that some of the army could finish the job the pirates could not. The Crescents made it to shore not far from Reth, and we had a company camping in the vicinity, holding as a reserve force. It seemed like a good idea to me, so I spoke with Captain Havalla only a few moments ago and gave him the orders to move on Vambran and his men. They are breaking camp even now, as we speak."

Lavant cocked his head to one side, considering that latest news. Darvin wondered for a brief moment if the high priest was going to oppose his decision. Lavant's biggest shortcoming, in Darvin's eyes, was a rather infantile need to be in charge, to make all the decisions.

But the high priest only nodded. "That seems reasonable… if we have the resources, of course. This won't hamper our main objectives there, will it?"

Darvin shook his head. "No. They were not due to shift to the front for three more days, and Beltrim claimed his soldiers were getting restless, anyway. So it was a handy diversion."

"Did you order him to kill them all?"

"No. It occurred to me that we might be able to put a few of them to good use."

"How so?"

Darvin couldn't help but grin at what he was about to say next. "Perhaps as soldiers in our new, improved army."

For the first time since the man known to the rest of the world as Junce Roundface had arrived, Grand Trabbar Lavant got a bit of a gleam in his eye. "How clever of you," he said, smiling. "That would be only too fitting." The rotund priest stroked his chin as he considered the implications of Darvin's suggestion, nodding repeatedly in agreement. "Yes, I like that very much. You will make all of the arrangements?"

"Certainly. I'm glad you found the idea as appealing as I did." Darvin let his smile drop as he prepared to change the subject once more. "Grozier told me that Xaphira Matrell is trying to track me down."

Lavant sniffed. "That doesn't surprise me. She always was a very headstrong girl. But I would be very surprised if she were able to make much headway. There are only a handful of people in all of Arrabar, indeed, in all of Faerun, who know your true identity. She's not going to be much of a problem, so long as you remain out of her sight."

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Darvin said, rising up to replace his cup with the others next to the decanter. "Truthfully, that was my initial reaction, too. But then I got to thinking, if she's so intent on finding me, perhaps I should let her. I see an opportunity to eliminate her from our little game."

"I don't think that's wise," Lavant said, frowning. "There's too much at stake, and I need you to run my errands. He needs you," the priest added, giving the assassin a knowing look. "This has been in motion for so very long, and now, with it so near to fruition, we cannot risk any unnecessary accidents. We're too close."

Darvin shrugged. "But wouldn't it be better to face her on my terms, to lure her into a battlefield of my choosing, rather than risk a chance encounter? If she were to get lucky and stumble upon information that could reveal more of me than I care for her to know, is that not a greater risk? He certainly wouldn't like that happening, you understand."