Each priest wore black plate armor and a full-faced helm. Their eyes were holes, invisible under the guards. Shadows clotted around them.

Shades, Tamlin realized.

On tarnished silver chains around their necks, each wore a disk of onyx bordered with tiny amethysts-Shar's holy symbol. Each also wore a black cloak trimmed in fur. All of them wore twin short swords at their belts. They threw up their face guards-Tamlin noted two women among them-and moved before Rivalen.

"Nightseer," a tall, dark-haired priestess said, and bowed.

"Variance," Rivalen said. He looked to Tamlin. "These are the priests and priestesses I promised, Hulorn."

Tamlin summoned his dignity and said, loud enough for his men to hear, "I extend welcome to you all. You have my grat.i.tude and that of the city."

The priests and priestesses turned and acknowledged Tamlin with a tilt of their heads. Some of the soldiers nearby grumbled. Tamlin heard the word "Sharran" muttered several times.

He looked around at his soldiers and shouted, "Forget what you may have heard of Shar. They are lies. These men and women have come to Selgaunt willingly, to stand or fall at your side. They have answered a request from me to Prince Rivalen. He, and they, have my complete trust. And so should they have yours."

Few eyes held his. The grumbling ceased.

Onthul nodded a welcome at the priests as he moved among the men. "You heard the Hulorn. Mind your posts and be thankful at least some priests stand beside you."

Many nods answered Onthul's words, grudging agreement.

Satisfied, Tamlin looked to Rivalen. "I would prefer to spread them among the men, Prince."

"Well conceived," Rivalen said. He looked to Variance. "Disperse among the men. Help as you may. Battle comes with the sun."

She nodded and pulled down her faceguard. Shadows collected around the priests and priestesses and they disappeared, materializing here and there along the wall.

Saerloon's forces, too, continued to materialize from the darkness, appearing out of nothingness like shades themselves. They burned no torches. Only the moonlight lit their ranks, glittered off their helms and spear points. The influx of men soon stopped, but the number of men that had come was enough to cause Tamlin's heart to thump.

"Six thousand, I would wager," Brennus said matter-of-factly.

"Closer to seven," Rivalen said.

Except for an occasional cough, curse, or prayer, quiet ruled the walls of Selgaunt. All eyes stared out on the field, on the Saerloonians. Tamlin fought a rising sense of dread. Dawn was mere hours away.

As the false dawn lightened the sky, two carriages rumbled up to the gates, wheels clattering. The doors opened and a contingent of eight priests exited. Ansril Amhaddan, the fat High Songmaster of Milil, led the group, flanked by Aumraeya Ulmbrin, the High Priestess of Sune. Behind them stood representatives of the other major faiths of Selgaunt: Denier, Oghma, Lliira, Lathander, Tymora, and Waukeen. All of the priests and priestesses wore the formal vestments of their faith. They spoke to nearby soldiers and the soldiers pointed up at Tamlin. The priests' gazes fixed on him, on Rivalen, on Brennus. They did not wave in greeting.

Tamlin descended the stairs and met them on the road behind the Khyber Gate, in the shadow of the trebuchets. The men fell silent around him. He felt hundreds of eyes on him.

"What is this, Ansril?" Tamlin said.

Ansril answered in his smooth tenor. "Hulorn, we are here to vehemently protest the presence of the Shadovar priests."

"Sharran priests," spat Aumraeya, her attractive face twisted into a scowl.

Before Tamlin could respond, the darkness around him deepened and Rivalen appeared at his side. Brennus appeared in the next breath. A murmur went through the Selgauntan priests and the men nearby. Anger twisted the priests' expressions. Behind the anger, Tamlin saw fear.

Ansril and Aumraeya looked at Tamlin and studiously avoided eye contact with the Princes of Shade. "I will not discuss this with you in their presence," Ansril said to Tamlin.

The shadows around Rivalen churned. His words had an edge like a sword. "Mind your tone, priest."

Before Ansril could respond, Tamlin said, "You will discuss it in their presence or not at all. I requested that Prince Rivalen summon such aid as he could. The Sharran priests and priestesses are here at my invitation."

The priests behind Ansril and Aumraeya looked appalled.

"They are Sharrans," Ansril said, as if that settled the matter.

"They are," Tamlin acknowledged. "And?"

"Is that not enough?" Aumraeya asked, eyeing Rivalen with contempt.

Brennus's homunculi gestured obscenely at the Sunite priestess. She glared at them. "It is not," Tamlin answered.

"We are here to a.s.sist in the defense of the city," Rivalen said.

"To what end, Sharran?" Aumraeya snapped. "What secrets hide in the dark hearts of you and your G.o.ddess? What do you really want here?"

Rivalen did not move, but he seemed to grow larger. The shadows around him churned. As one, the priests of the entourage backed up a step, eyes wide, hands on holy symbols. "I will remind you all only once more to mind your tone."

Tamlin held up a hand. "That is enough. You have made your speech. I have heard it. Leave now."

"Desperate times are no excuse to ally with darkness, Hulorn," Ansril said, eyeing Rivalen and breathing heavily.

Tamlin lost patience. He stepped forward and glared into Ansril's face. He spoke in a voice loud enough for all nearby to hear. "Nor is politics an excuse for cowardice. The Sharrans you hold in such contempt are willing to fight and die beside the soldiers of this city. You are not. They man the walls while you cower in your temples. They stand shoulder to shoulder with our soldiers while you slink about in your carriage. You would not have even used the powers granted you by your G.o.ds to feed the people of this city had I not ordered it."

The soldiers around him nodded, mumbled agreement.

Ansril gulped. Aumraeya blanched.

"You mischaracterize us," she said. "We do not cower. Matters are complex. You, of all people, should understand that."

Tamlin could not keep the contempt from his voice. "I understand that you have failed me and this city. I understand that you are wasting my time while an army prepares to a.s.sault these walls."

Ansril said, "Hulorn, we have fellow priests in Ordulin, in Saerloon, in Urlamspyr. We cannot war against our brothers and sisters in faith. Surely you must-"

Tamlin cut him off. "Did you come here to fight, Ansril, or to explain why you will not? I have no time for the latter."

"Hulorn," Aumraeya said. "You are most-"

Tamlin could no longer bridle his tone. "Begone from here! Now! Before I have you arrested! I have heard all of the excuses I need to hear."

Aumraeya looked as if she had been struck. "Arrested?"

One of Brennus's homunculi chanted, "Arrested, arrested."

Ansril regarded the little creature, Brennus, Rivalen, and Tamlin. He stuttered, finally managed, "There is nothing more for us to say, I see. Come, Aumraeya."

The priests turned around and stalked back to their carriages. Tamlin watched them go, his anger unabated.

"Where is Vees Talendar, I wonder?" asked Rivalen casually.

Before Tamlin could consider the question, a drumbeat from the Saerloonian forces carried over the walls and reminded the men of their business.

"Back to work, lads!" shouted Onthul. "Nothing more to see. Back to it."

As the priests' carriages moved off, Brennus spoke softly to Rivalen and Tamlin. "Ansril or one of the other priests may do something foolish in their anger."

"We do not trust him," whispered the homunculi conspiratorially.

Rivalen met Tamlin's eyes and Tamlin saw in the Shadovar's expression that he did not trust Ansril either. Rivalen said, "Hulorn, he could communicate the composition of our forces to other priests of his faith outside of Selgaunt. Any of them could. If that information were pa.s.sed to the overmistress or Lady Merelith, it could damage our cause."

Tamlin shook his head, trying to get his thoughts ordered. Too much was coming at him. He had meant the threat to arrest the priests as more bl.u.s.ter than promise. He said, "I do not think Ansril or any of the priests are traitors, Prince."

"I have seen it before," Rivalen said.

Brennus added, "You need not arrest them, merely put them under ... observation in a controlled setting."

Tamlin pondered. Ansril was impulsive, and Aumraeya had been red-faced with anger. They could do something foolish. They might regret it afterward, but once done, it would not be something that could be undone. He made his decision, and summoned Onthul to him.

"Hulorn?"

Tamlin looked the tall guard captain in the eyes. "Send men to round up and detain the priests of the temples of Milil, Sune, Oghma, Deneir, Lathander, Tymora, Waukeen, and Lliira."

Onthul's eyes widened. "Imprison them, my lord?"

Tamlin shook his head, glanced at Brennus. "No. Detain them, lest one of them do something ... rash. Hold them within my palace. Disarm them, but see that they are comfortable."

Rivalen said, "Tell them you are converting the palace to a battlefield hospital, Captain Onthul. Tell them you are consolidating the priests there to maximize their ability to heal the wounded."

Tamlin nodded. "But they are not to leave, Onthul. And the only spellcasting they are to do is in healing the wounded. Your men have the authority to enforce that edict with steel. Do you understand?"

Onthul did what soldiers did. He accepted his orders. "Yes, Hulorn."

"Trusted men only, Captain Onthul. Experienced men. This is a grave matter."

"Of course, my lord. I have a force in mind."

Tamlin patted his captain on the shoulder and Onthul moved off. When he was gone, Brennus said, "You have done the hard thing but the right thing, Hulorn."

Rivalen put a hand on his shoulder. "You have come far, Tamlin."

Tamlin nodded. He may have done the right thing, and he may have come far, but he still felt dirty.

"Something is happening!" a Scepter shouted from atop the walls.

"Here they come," Rivalen said.

Abelar drove Swiftdawn as hard as he dared. Her flanks heaved under him and sweat foamed her coat. Regg on Firstlight kept pace, but barely. The terrain flew past them in a blur. They stopped periodically to allow the horses a drink and to allow Brend to verify the tracks of the hors.e.m.e.n they pursued.

"They make no effort to hide their pa.s.sage," Brend said, examining the ground. "I could track them from horseback at a full gallop. They are headed due west, riding hard."

Back to the main body of Forrin's troops, Abelar knew. If Abelar did not catch them soon, they would face not a raiding force, but an entire army.

"We ride harder," he said, and put his heels into Swiftdawn. She reared and tore off across the gra.s.slands. The men followed.

Regg shouted at him over the beat of hooves. "They took Elden to draw us out, Abelar. Or to use against you as a negotiating tool in a forced peace. They will not harm him."

"The overmistress does not want peace," Abelar answered. "And she, or her niece, may want nothing more than to hurt my father and me by hurting Elden. I will not have it, Regg. I will not."

"Nor I," Regg answered.

Several hours later they spotted their prey ahead. The four score raiders rode in loose formation and crested a rise, perhaps half a league ahead of them. Abelar could not make out any details, but he knew Elden was among them. He had to be. Lathander had led him to his son. He said nothing to his men. All of them could see what he saw.

"We are riding out of the sun," Regg shouted to him over the thunder of hooves.

Abelar nodded. That they were.

They lost sight of Forrin's riders the moment the last of them rode over the rise. Abelar whispered to Swiftdawn to give him everything she could and she answered. Abelar knew they were closing the distance. Lathander would not have brought him so far for nothing.

When they topped the rise, he saw the eighty riders galloping east on the gra.s.slands below them. But that was not all he saw. Not half a league ahead of the riders rode a handful of scouts, and behind them, stretching out in a long, dark column of steel and flesh, rode the main force of Malkur Forrin's army.

Abelar halted atop the rise and the rest of the men did the same. Swiftdawn snorted, flanks heaving. The rest of the horses gulped air and whinnied.

Endren unleashed a stream of epithets and Regg did the same.

Forrin's force rode in a line perhaps thirty riders wide. Supply wagons rumbled along in the rear. Shields, armor, and blades caught the setting sun and glinted orange. There were over a thousand men.

The raiders did not know they had been pursued but Forrin's scouts saw Abelar's force. A few pointed and three of them whirled their horses around and sped back to the main body. Another blew a signal on his trumpet while he awaited the approaching raiders-the raiders bearing Abelar's son.

Abelar unslung his shield, drew his blade.

The raiders met up with the scouts, swirled around them. Heads turned to look back on Abelar and his force. Abelar scanned the raiders, looking for Elden. He did not see him, but the riders were too distant for him to make out details.

"Do you see him, Regg? Father?"

Regg leaned forward in the saddle, shook his head.

"It is a blur to me at this distance," Endren said.

"Anyone?" Abelar shouted to his men.

All shook their heads but Roen, known for his sharp eyes. "I think I see him, Abelar. He is slumped in the saddle before another rider. I cannot be sure, but-"

"That is him," Abelar said, his heart on fire.

Trumpets sounded from Forrin's main force even before the retreating scouts reached it, and the entire formation halted. Two thousand eyes looked up at Abelar and his two score men. The raiding party galloped back to the main force and merged with it. The distance prevented Abelar from distinguishing one rider from the next.

"I cannot see him any more in that mix," Roen said.