In The Cards

Being able to tell when somebody is lying to you is a very useful skill, one that can save your life. Of course, nobody is infallible. There is nobody better equipped to deceive you than the people you have the most reason to trust. Once, that is.

Excerpt from 'Interview With An Assassin'

It wouldn't go away on its own. Edwin kept staring at the note, but it still sat there in the middle of the table, and the words were still the same. The Red Wizard was sitting in a room at the Jovial Juggler, one of the four inns of Beregost. It was a pleasant enough room, he supposed. The bed was comfortable, with thick green curtains to keep the light out and no apparent bugs. There was a large oaken cabinet, soft carpets on the floor, a window with a view of the narrow street outside. There was also a table. Edwin's spellbook was lying on it, quite forgotten for the moment. The note occupied all of his attention, like a giant iceberg looming on the horizon.

The party had arrived in Beregost that same afternoon. After renting rooms at the Juggler they had separated to take care of their own personal business. Khalid and Jaheira had gone to sell what superfluous items could be easily disposed of in town. Zaerini and Imoen had also taken off, mentioning something about going shopping. Edwin had withdrawn to his room, eager to take a closer look at some of the spell scrolls he hadn't had the time to inscribe in his spellbook yet. He had hardly sat down before there was a timid knock on the door and a small boy entered, bearing a message.

"Pardon, sir," the boy had said. "This was left for you earlier, to be delivered as soon as you arrived."

Edwin had waved the child out and then opened the letter. He had read it. Several times, in fact. It still said the same.

Am in town on business between 4th and 6th. Will return once a week, same weekdays. Number Three, after sunset. Come at once if convenient. If not, then make it so.

The note wasn't signed, but of course it didn't need to be. Edwin knew who it was from. Today was the 5th, one of the designated days. There would be not getting out of this, Edwin shuddered to even think of what would happen if his teacher found out that he had been in town but failed to turn up. No, he had to go. But he was worried, very much so. It felt like events were slipping away from him, careening out of control. True, Zaerini hadn't entirely denied all possibility of her ever agreeing to work for Thay. Edwin wasn't hopeful that she ever would, however. If he didn't press her for an answer his teacher would demand to know why. And if he did, and she refused…

No, Edwin thought. I…I can't do it. It was a horrible, contemptible weakness in him, no doubt. He didn't know how it was possible, and he was ashamed to admit this strange inability even to himself. Once he'd set out on his mission he'd been so confident of his own competence, so certain that he could easily do whatever was necessary. But something had…changed. He had changed. And now he couldn't bear the thought of killing the bard, couldn't even bear the thought of her dying at the hands of another. To never again hear her voice, never see the glint of sunlight off her red hair or that spark of mischief in her eyes, to never again be challenged by her quick intellect…no. It mustn't be. Perhaps he was a miserable weakling, but he couldn't let that happen.

Yet how can I prevent it? Edwin thought and rolled the brief note nervously between his fingers. If I don't carry on with the mission, then Master Dekaras most certainly will. He wouldn't hesitate like this. Briefly Edwin considered telling his mentor the truth. His mind boggled at the imagined scene. No, that didn't seem like an option. I don't see how he could possibly understand, Edwin thought, feeling quite miserable. He's always so calm and collected, the way I ought to be. He'd never let emotions interfere with a mission. How could I ever admit this shameful weakness to him? He'd despise me, and rightly so. He'd probably tell me that by my incompetence I'm putting us both at great risk. And he'd be right. The Red Wizards take failure badly enough. Willful disregard of given orders will make them come after us, and they won't stop until we're both dead.

Edwin leaned his head into his hands and moaned quietly. How could he even contemplate risking his mentor's, his friend's life? He would never do such a thing to me, the wizard thought, his heart torn by the black claws of shame and self-contempt. How many times has he saved my life? I can't even remember. And he has always been there for me when I needed him. Always, as far back as I can recall. I can't let him come to harm, any more than I can her. But I can't tell him that.

The wizard allowed himself a hollow laugh at the thought of the assassin's probable reaction to hearing that his student was trying to protect him. He'd never listen to me. He'd think the very idea mortally insulting, wouldn't he? The best I could hope for would be that he decided that I'd gone insane, and then he'd still go after Zaerini.

Edwin got up from his chair and paced back and forth, his thoughts chasing each other wildly around his head. He felt trapped. Trapped between an irresistible force and an immovable object, likely to get crushed between them. Or like a trainer of wild animals, trying to keep two of his beasts from tearing each other's throats out. The mental image this brought to mind nearly caused him to break out in hysterical laughter. This wouldn't do. He had to go to the appointed meeting, and he had to try to stall for a little longer. And if that failed…then he would have to think of something else. Something. Somehow.

It was already dark out when Edwin slipped out onto the streets of Beregost, and there was a faint drizzle in the air that made him shiver with cold. But that was good, the cold brought him back to reality. He tried to concentrate on the cold, on the slick cobblestones beneath his feet, on the patches of light spilling out of the windows around him. Anything to keep from thinking of what lay ahead of him. A courtesan passed him in the street, a pretty blonde in a dress far too thin for this weather. Edwin barely noticed the invitation she called out to him, nor the words she spat his way when he pushed by her without stopping. Number Three lay in front of him. Dekaras had set up a list of simple code words for safety's sake, and Number Three meant the Red Sheaf, the third of Beregost's four inns. Edwin drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders and went inside, having first made sure that he wasn't being followed. Nothing to do except try his best. He hoped that would be enough.

Edwin stood still just inside the door for a few moments. The sound was almost deafening. Drunken laugher, raised voices, clanking glasses, the reedy sound of a flute all drifted towards him. The bad weather had apparently caused many people to decide to visit the tavern. The tables were all occupied, and the floor was crowded by people moving about looking for a seat. A small but ugly fight was going on in a far corner, apparently over who had waited the longest for his drinks and ought to be served first. While Edwin watched one of the combatants bit a piece of his opponent's ear off and spat it out on the floor, and the other man retaliated by smashing him over the head with a broken bottle. The Red Wizard made his way across the floor towards the bartender, careful not to jostle anybody. The last thing he needed was to get into a brawl.

The bartender was a muscular man with a shaved head and a nose that looked like it had been broken more than once. "Good Evening," Edwin told him. "I believe I am expected."

The large man looked him over, then spat on the ground. "Maybe," he said in a surly voice. "Depends on who you're looking for."

"Elminster's long lost twin-sister," Edwin sneered. "We're having a secret affair."

The bartender's eyes narrowed at the recognition of the password. "I take it you want a room then," he said. "Come with me." He led Edwin upstairs, and then pointed at a door at the end of a long and dark corridor. "In there," he said with an unpleasant chuckle. "Have fun." He went back downstairs, still laughing quietly.

The corridor seemed endless as Edwin approached the closed door. It was like one of those dreams when you're running for your life and can't wake up. Eventually he stood outside the door, staring at the smooth and dark surface. He raised his hand to knock. Then he hesitated. Don't be ridiculous! Edwin told himself. He won't bite your head off. Probably. His hand still refused to move though.

"Are you going to come in any time soon?" a voice said from inside the room. "This is starting to get tedious." Edwin gulped and gave a startled jerk. As he did, his hand pushed against the door and it swung open. No turning back now.

The room was small, smaller than the one Edwin had left at his own inn. There was a narrow bed that looked rather hard, a small table and a couple of chairs. Dekaras was sitting on one of them, his feet propped up on the table, where he could have a full view of the door. He was tossing a throwing dagger from one hand to the other in what seemed like an idle manner. Edwin knew better than to believe that. The assassin looked much the same as always. He was wearing his customary dark leathers and his black hair had been gathered at the base of his neck to be out of the way. Possibly his face was just a little bit more gaunt than usual, the cheekbones more pronounced. When wholly absorbed by an assignment he would sometimes neglect eating properly, Edwin knew, being too preoccupied with the mission at hand. And then Edwin's thoughts fled again as a pair of black eyes stared coolly back out him out of that expressionless face and an eyebrow arched as if daring him to speak.

"Well, well, well," Dekaras said. "Who do we have here? One of the illustrious Heroes of Nashkel, isn't it? I feel so…honored. Do close the door behind you if such a task isn't too menial for a Noble Hero like yourself." That silky voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Edwin felt sudden heat rising in his cheeks and he hurried to pull the door shut, feeling quite mortified. "Well," he tried to explain, "I…that is we…I mean…I didn't mean to! It was an accident."

"Indeed. So you managed to get appointed Hero of Nashkel, Gullykin and Beregost without even trying to? That, in itself, is something of an accomplishment."

"But I…Beregost?"

"Oh yes." Dekaras let the throwing dagger disappear into the folds of his clothes with a casual flick of the wrist. "Something about disposing of a mad cleric who was terrorizing the countryside I believe." The assassin rose from his sitting position and glided across the floor towards the petrified wizard, looking for all the world like a stalking predator. "So," he said. "It would seem that young Master Odesseiron has developed a taste for heroics, fame and the adulation of the screaming masses. Might I then take this opportunity to remind you of what you were supposed to be doing? Or are you too busy saving the world from destruction or drawing up the charter for the Edwin Odesseiron Admiration Club? Take your time. It isn't as if I have anything better to do than wait around for you to make up your mind."

"I…" Edwin said, trying to buy some time. "Er…how did you know it was me outside the door right now, anyway?"

"Please," Dekaras said with a small snort. "As if I wouldn't recognize your footsteps anywhere. And besides, you were almost breathing hard enough to blow the door down. Now answer the question."

"Well…I…would you know that I met this halfling who turned out to be the niece of our own Poppy? Isn't that amazing? I think that's amazing. Really, really amazing. Really, really, really…"

"You are starting to try my patience, boy. Of course I know that. Poppy told me before we left. She even asked me to look the girl up if I had the time. And I sincerely advice you to stop trying to change the subject unless you want me to become really angry with you. No more of these childish antics. How goes your assignment?"

The following twenty minutes were pure torture for Edwin. The one thing that saved him from discovery was that he wasn't actually lying, not yet. His teacher had always been able to tell when he was outright lying. He clung to half-truths and omissions, and somehow he managed to muddle through. His story was that he was well on his way to convincing Zaerini, but that he needed some more time, the reason being that she was too preoccupied with Sarevok and his bandits at the moment to think of much else. Apparently that was the right thing to say.

"Ah yes, Sarevok," Dekaras said, an interested look in his eyes. "A most fascinating man. Yes, I can well imagine that the girl would be somewhat distracted by him."

"You've seen him?" Edwin asked. "When? How?"

The assassin went on to explain about his current association with the bandits and Sarevok's appearance in the camp. "My position among the bandits is solid," Dekaras said. "I have been making certain arrangements, and once you and the others are inside I will be able to create chaos enough to draw all attention away from you."

"How do we get inside though?"

"I'm getting to that. The bandits are currently eager to recruit new members, due to the recent raids by the Flaming Fist. That is my official reason for being in Beregost, actually. Assuming you all can curb your heroic tendencies I should be able to deposit you on the bandits' very doorstep."

"I…I see," Edwin said. "Yes, that should work. But how will I find you? Zaerini wants to go to the Ulcaster ruins before tackling the bandits. I need some way to get in touch with you."

"As I said in my letter, I will be here for a few days each week, looking for new recruits as well as for news of passing caravans. If, for some reason, I am detained, you will have to manage on your own."

"You mean if you're dead, don't you?" Edwin asked with a flash of sudden insight. "Don't you?! Well, I won't let that happen. I won't!"

The assassin gave him a surprised look, and then he smiled, a genuine smile this time rather than a sarcastic smirk. "All men must die someday," he said. "And though I appreciate the sentiment, the responsibility for my continued existence is in no way yours. You mustn't ever think that."

But I do, Edwin thought, feeling quite miserable. I do, and I am making it so through actions of my own. I never wanted for any of this to happen. "It's just…you only came with me on this mission because I asked you to."

"And I did so willingly," Dekaras said. He put his hand on Edwin's shoulder and looked the wizard straight in the eyes. "Now listen to me," he said, his voice very serious. "My first priority is keeping you safe. Nothing is more important than that, including my own life, and I will do anything to make sure it happens. Do you understand me? Anything."

"I…think so."

"Good." The assassin nodded, apparently satisfied that his student had got the message. Then an amused look came into his eyes. "But there is no need to look so gloomy about it. I certainly have no intention of dying if I can avoid it, and we have both survived worse than this. As long as we stand united as always I really think we have a fair chance."

"Yes," Edwin said, somehow managing a smile. "Of course." But he felt lonelier than ever before, and for once his mentor's words held no comfort for him. No comfort at all.