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crowd. “You led the eastern defenses near Krag Pool, where Bane’s army suffered the greatest number of casualties and the decisive victory against our enemies was won. Yet you entered Shadowdale at the same time as the prisoners, and in their company. Tell us briefly how you know the accused.”
    “Midnight and Adon are of stout heart, and their loyalty to the Dales and to the Realms should not be questioned,” Kelemvor said confidently.
    “Tell him to answer the question,” Storm snapped, turning to Mourngrym.
    Kelemvor examined the striking, silver-haired woman. His gaze locked on her blue-gray eyes as he told the tale of his first meeting with Midnight in Arabel and the quest that eventually led them to the Dales.
    “So this was a business arrangement,” Thurbal stated. “You didn’t know her before you met in Arabel.”
    “No, I didn’t,” Kelemvor said. “But I’ve come to know her very well since then.”
    “He’s a consummate mercenary,” Storm said. “He does nothing without some form of reward.”
    Passing his fingers over his mouth, Mourngrym spoke.”If you had not been called, Kelemvor Lyonsbane, if you had been forced to volunteer to testify on Midnight’s behalf, would you have spoken for her?”
    The fighter shook, his face growing dark. To lie in Midnight’s favor would be an unselfish act he had not been paid for. And that would trigger the curse.
    “Answer the question,” Mourngrym said.
    Kelemvor glanced at Midnight, and her eyes were wide with fear. With a heavy heart, Kelemvor turned back to Mourngrym. “I could not,” he said.
    “No further questions,” Thurbal snapped, turning away from the fighter in disgust. Storm simply smiled and dismissed Kelemvor.
    The fighter said nothing as he was led back to the crowd. Cyric stared at Kelemvor as he walked past. The thief saw the look of defeat in his friend’s eyes. For some reason, it made Cyric feel a little better to know that Kelemvor now realized he was right about the dalesmen.
    “This day grows long, Thurbal.” Mourngrym folded his hands upon the lectern. “Have you any other witnesses?”
    “Only you, milord,” Thurbal said softly.
    Mourngrym stared at the older man. “Are you well? Have you taken leave -“
    “I call Mourngrym Amcathra,” Thurbal pronounced distinctly. “By the laws of the Dales, you cannot refuse to testify unless you wish to declare this trial at an end and release the prisoners.”
    The eyes of the dalelord turned wild with anger, but Mourngrym nodded and said in an even voice, “Very well. Ask me what you will.”
    “Where was Lord Bane throughout the battle for Shadowdale?” Thurbal asked.
    Mourngrym cocked his head slightly. “I don’t understand.”
    “Bane led the attack through the forest from Voonlar. Our scouts can verify this. I will summon them if you wish.” Thurbal leaned against the lectern as a coughing fit overcame him.
    “That won’t be necessary,” Mourngrym said. “Bane led the attack.”
    “At Krag Pool, before the defenders of the dale toppled the trees upon Bane’s army, the Black Lord vanished,” Thurbal stated calmly. “There are dozens of witnesses I can present to verify this as well.”
    “Go on,” Mourngrym said impatiently.
    “The next time Bane was sighted, it was at the crossroads, near the farm of Jhaele Silvermane. The Black Lord appeared before you, Mourngrym Amcathra, and attempted to slay you. Mayheir Hawksguard pushed you aside and was fatally wounded in your stead. Is that correct?”
    “Aye,” Mourngrym replied. “Hawksguard died nobly in the defense of the Dales.”
    “Where did Lord Bane go after that?” Thurbal asked. “Weren’t you quite vulnerable? Could he have not slain you then and there, despite Hawksguard’s sacrifice?”
    “I don’t know,” Mourngrym mumbled uncomfortably. “Perhaps.”
    “But he didn’t. He vanished again,” Thurbal said. “Bane’s attentions must have been drawn elsewhere.” The captain was