Midnight’s departure.
Adon nodded, a sudden sense of doom and foreboding overcoming him. “I’ll see if I can slow him down.” Like Sneakabout, the cleric did not feel comfortable sleeping in a castle where the guard abandoned its post. He would feel even more uncomfortable if Kelemvor went to bed inebriated.
Before Adon could speak to Kelemvor, though, Lord Deverell lifted his mug. “Let us drink a health to Sir Kelemvor and the Lady Midnight. May they both rest well -” He winked at Kelemvor. “- though it be in separate beds!”
A wave of laughter ran around the table and the officers chorused, “Here, here!”
“I don’t know about Lady Midnight,” Kelemvor said, raising his mug to his lips. “But Sir Tower will not sleep this night!”
“If you have another mug of ale,” Adon noted as he stood up, “the choice will be out of your hands. Come along - we’ve had a hard ride and need some rest.”
“Nonsense, nonsense!” Lord Deverell cried, glad to see his party resuming a festive air. “There will be time enough to rest tomorrow. Midnight said she wanted a day to replenish her spellbook, did she not?”
“True enough, milord,” Adon replied. “But we’ve been on the trail a long time and aren’t accustomed to such rich fare. Kelemvor may feel this night for days to come.”
The green-eyed fighter frowned at Adon, resentful of the unexpected supervision. “Come morning, I’ll be as strong as my horse,” he bragged, standing and swaying slightly. “Besides, who named you captain?”
“You did,” Adon answered quietly, speaking the truth as he knew it. Kelemvor had lost his sense of purpose. The detour to Black Oaks had been only one example of the warrior’s inability to focus on recovering the tablets. Someone needed to fill the void, and Midnight, intelligent as she was, seemed unwilling to take charge of the company. That had left only Adon to be the leader, and he was determined to fill the role as best he could.
“I did not,” Kelemvor responded slowly, dropping back into his chair. “I wouldn’t follow a faithless cleric.”
Adon winced, but made no retort. He knew the warrior had to be very upset - and very drunk - to lash out at a friend so fiercely.
Sighing, the cleric said, “Have it as you will.” He picked up the saddlebags with the tablet.
Kelemvor frowned, realizing that he had treated Adon cruelly. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t called for.”
“I understand,” Adon replied. “Even if you don’t go to sleep, try not to drink too much.” He turned to Lord Deverell. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m very tired.”
Kae Deverell nodded and smiled, glad to be rid of the killjoy. After Adon had gone, Kelemvor’s mood grew even darker. He spoke little, and drank even less. It fell on Sneakabout’s shoulders to keep Lord Deverell’s party jolly and exuberant, which he did by reciting halfling stories and poems. Finally, two hours later, Lord Deverell drank one ale too many and slumped into his chair, unconscious.
The six Cormyrian officers who had outlasted their commander breathed sighs of relief and stood. Grumbling about the lateness of the hour, they picked up the lord commander and went to put him to bed. From their impatient attitude, the halfling guessed that similar duties fell on their shoulders with too great a frequency for their liking.
After seeing Kelemvor to his room on the tower’s third floor, Sneakabout went down to the second floor and peeked in on Midnight and Adon. Both were sleeping soundly, so he began an investigation of the keep tower.
While the halfling explored, Adon drifted through the night in the mists of a sleep as deep and peaceful as he could remember. Though the cleric had not realized it until leaving Lord Deverell’s table, the previous two days of riding had truly exhausted him. He had collapsed into bed without undressing.
But Adon had not forgotten the five missing guards or the danger that pursued their company, and
Adon nodded, a sudden sense of doom and foreboding overcoming him. “I’ll see if I can slow him down.” Like Sneakabout, the cleric did not feel comfortable sleeping in a castle where the guard abandoned its post. He would feel even more uncomfortable if Kelemvor went to bed inebriated.
Before Adon could speak to Kelemvor, though, Lord Deverell lifted his mug. “Let us drink a health to Sir Kelemvor and the Lady Midnight. May they both rest well -” He winked at Kelemvor. “- though it be in separate beds!”
A wave of laughter ran around the table and the officers chorused, “Here, here!”
“I don’t know about Lady Midnight,” Kelemvor said, raising his mug to his lips. “But Sir Tower will not sleep this night!”
“If you have another mug of ale,” Adon noted as he stood up, “the choice will be out of your hands. Come along - we’ve had a hard ride and need some rest.”
“Nonsense, nonsense!” Lord Deverell cried, glad to see his party resuming a festive air. “There will be time enough to rest tomorrow. Midnight said she wanted a day to replenish her spellbook, did she not?”
“True enough, milord,” Adon replied. “But we’ve been on the trail a long time and aren’t accustomed to such rich fare. Kelemvor may feel this night for days to come.”
The green-eyed fighter frowned at Adon, resentful of the unexpected supervision. “Come morning, I’ll be as strong as my horse,” he bragged, standing and swaying slightly. “Besides, who named you captain?”
“You did,” Adon answered quietly, speaking the truth as he knew it. Kelemvor had lost his sense of purpose. The detour to Black Oaks had been only one example of the warrior’s inability to focus on recovering the tablets. Someone needed to fill the void, and Midnight, intelligent as she was, seemed unwilling to take charge of the company. That had left only Adon to be the leader, and he was determined to fill the role as best he could.
“I did not,” Kelemvor responded slowly, dropping back into his chair. “I wouldn’t follow a faithless cleric.”
Adon winced, but made no retort. He knew the warrior had to be very upset - and very drunk - to lash out at a friend so fiercely.
Sighing, the cleric said, “Have it as you will.” He picked up the saddlebags with the tablet.
Kelemvor frowned, realizing that he had treated Adon cruelly. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t called for.”
“I understand,” Adon replied. “Even if you don’t go to sleep, try not to drink too much.” He turned to Lord Deverell. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m very tired.”
Kae Deverell nodded and smiled, glad to be rid of the killjoy. After Adon had gone, Kelemvor’s mood grew even darker. He spoke little, and drank even less. It fell on Sneakabout’s shoulders to keep Lord Deverell’s party jolly and exuberant, which he did by reciting halfling stories and poems. Finally, two hours later, Lord Deverell drank one ale too many and slumped into his chair, unconscious.
The six Cormyrian officers who had outlasted their commander breathed sighs of relief and stood. Grumbling about the lateness of the hour, they picked up the lord commander and went to put him to bed. From their impatient attitude, the halfling guessed that similar duties fell on their shoulders with too great a frequency for their liking.
After seeing Kelemvor to his room on the tower’s third floor, Sneakabout went down to the second floor and peeked in on Midnight and Adon. Both were sleeping soundly, so he began an investigation of the keep tower.
While the halfling explored, Adon drifted through the night in the mists of a sleep as deep and peaceful as he could remember. Though the cleric had not realized it until leaving Lord Deverell’s table, the previous two days of riding had truly exhausted him. He had collapsed into bed without undressing.
But Adon had not forgotten the five missing guards or the danger that pursued their company, and
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