on you, as I have so many times in the past.” He turned to the Lizerene. “How
long will your healing take?”
The healer shrugged. “The time is not exact. Perhaps two months.”
Jubal spoke again to Saliman. “Return to town and don’t come back for three
months. You have access to most of our hidden funds; use them and live well.
Anyone hunting hawkmasks will not think to look among the wealthy.
“That hunting should serve as a weeding to test the fitness of our remaining
swords. Learn their whereabouts and watch them-but let none know I’m still
alive. After three months we’ll meet and decide who is to be included in the new
organization.”
“If you are as wealthy as your words,” Vertan interjected cautiously, “might I
make an additional suggestion?” Jubal cocked an eyebrow, but indicated the
wizard should continue. “There are several wizards in Sanctuary who have the
power to ferret out your location. If I were to provide a list of their names
and estimates of their bribe-price, you could insure your safety during the
healing process by paying them not to find you.”
Saliman snorted. “That way they’ll take our money and still sell their services
to the first hunter that asks. How trustworthy do you really think your
colleagues are, healer?”
“No more or less trustworthy than a sell-sword,” the Lizerene countered. “Every
person has weaknesses, though some are weaker than others. While a few might be
unscrupulous enough to accept double-service at least you can eliminate the
danger from the honest practitioners.”