[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]ready to make a desperate, last-minute rescue. But Regis knew that his prayers
would not be answered this time. He had finally gotten himself stuck in the mud
too deeply to escape.
Two guards disguised as bums moved in front of the pair as they approached
the door. Entreri said nothing but shot them a murderous stare.
Apparently the guards recognized the assassin. One of them stumbled out of
the way, tripping over his own feet, while the other rushed to the door and
rapped loudly. A peephole opened, and the guard whispered something to the
doorman inside. A split second later, the door swung wide.
Looking in on the thieves' guild proved too much for the halfling. Blackness
swirled about him, and he fell limp in the assassin's iron grasp. Showing
neither emotion nor surprise, Entreri scooped Regis up over his shoulder and
carried him like a sack into the guildhouse and down the flight of stairs beyond
the door.
Two more guards moved in to escort him, but Entreri pushed his way past
them. It had been three long years since Pook had sent him on the road after
Regis, but the assassin knew the way. He passed through several rooms, down
another level, and then started up a long, spiral staircase. Soon he was up to
street level again and still climbing to the highest chambers of the structure.
Regis regained consciousness in a dizzy blur. He glanced about desperately
as the images came clearer and he remembered where he was. Entreri had him by
the ankles, the halfling's head dangling halfway down the assassin's back and
his hand just inches from the jeweled dagger. But even if he could have gotten
to the weapon quickly enough, Regis knew that he had no chance of escape - not
with Entreri holding him, two armed guards following, and curious eyes glaring
at them from every doorway.
The whispers had traveled through the guild faster than Entreri.
Regis hooked his chin around Entreri's side and managed to catch a glimpse
of what lay ahead. They came up onto a landing, where four more guards parted
without question, opening the way down a short corridor that ended in an ornate,
ironbound door.
Pasha Pook's door.
The blackness swirled over Regis once again.
* * *
When he entered the chamber, Entreri found that he had been expected. Pook
sat comfortably on his throne, LaValle, by his side and his favorite leopard at
his feet, and none of them flinched at the sudden appearance of the two
long-lost associates.
The assassin and the guildmaster stared silently at each other for a long
time. Entreri studied the man carefully. He hadn't expected so formal a meeting.
Something was wrong.
Entreri pulled Regis off his shoulder and held him out - still upside down -
at arm's length, as if presenting a trophy. Convinced that the halfling was
oblivious to the world at that moment, Entreri released his hold, letting Regis
drop heavily to the floor.
That drew a chuckle from Pook. "It has been a long three years," the
guildmaster said, breaking the tension.
Entreri nodded. "I told you at the outset that this one might take time. The
little thief ran to the corners of the world."
"But not beyond your grasp, eh?" Pook said, somewhat sarcastically. "You
have performed your task excellently, as always, Master Entreri. Your reward
shall be as promised." Pook sat back on his throne again and resumed his distant
posture, rubbing a finger over his lips and eyeing Entreri suspiciously.
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Entreri didn't have any idea why Pook, after so many difficult years and a
successful completion of the mission, would treat him so badly. Regis had eluded
the guildmaster's grip for more than half a decade before Pook finally sent
Entreri on the chase. With that record preceding him, Entreri did not think
three years such a long time to complete the mission.
And the assassin refused to play such cryptic games. "If there is a problem,
speak it," he said bluntly.
"There was a problem," Pook replied mysteriously, emphasizing the past tense
of his statement.
Entreri rocked back a step, now fully at a loss - one of the very few times
in his life.
Regis stirred at that moment and managed to sit up, but the two men, engaged
in the important conversation, paid him no notice.
"You were being followed," Pook explained, knowing better than to play a
teasing game for too long with the killer. "Friends of the halfling?"
Regis's ears perked up.
Entreri took a long moment to consider his response. He guessed what Pook
was getting at, and it was easy for him to figure out that Oberon must have
informed the guildmaster of more than his return with Regis. He made a mental
note to visit the wizard the next time he was in Baldur's Gate, to explain to
Oberon the proper limits of spying and the proper restraints of loyalty. No one
ever crossed Artemis Entreri twice.
"It does not matter," Pook said, seeing no answer forthcoming. "They will
bother us no more."
Regis felt sick. This was the southland, the home of Pasha Pook. If Pook had
learned of his friends' pursuit, he certainly could have eliminated them.
Entreri understood that, too. He fought to maintain his calm while a burning
rage reared up inside him. "I tend to my own affairs," he growled at Pook, his
tone confirming to the guildmaster that he had indeed been playing a private
game with his pursuers.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plkajaszek.htw.pl
