Never having bowed to any god, Thea sat on the second stair leading up to Tyr's altar and did not bother looking up into the statue's stone face. Instead, she listened to the quiet crackling of the burning candlewicks and marveled at her lack of emotion. Tomorrow she would fight Lorne, most likely to the death. Most likely to her death, and still the thought of the battle left her strangely numb, the events of the last few days ephemeral. The priest had told her to reflect but her inner self was as smooth as a river stone.
The dead bodies at Ember…
The pale smudged face of little Marcus and his red-rimmed, ancient eyes…
The whisper of soft-soled boots brought her out of her thoughts. "I'm not allowed any visitors," she told Bishop as he moved between the pews toward her.
He grunted his derision for the priests' rules. "Cheerful place, this."
"So, have you come to wallow in my predicament?"
He laughed and came to a stop in front of her at the bottom of the stairs. "Actually, I thought I'd give you some advice. If there's one thing I know, it's Luskans."
"Advice? On how to take a falchion to the head, perhaps?"
"Even facing imminent doom, you're a clown." She could hear the grin in his voice.
She ran a hand through her hair, pulling off the leather band that bound it. "I appreciate the sentiment, Bish, but if they catch you in here-"
"They'll do what?"
She sighed. "I just don't want anything to jeopardize this, all right?"
"You have a lot at stake here," he said after a moment. Thea could feel his eyes on her, searching, digging.
"I'd call dying having a lot at stake, yes."
"There's something else."
Her stomach lurched at his words. She thought she had done well to hide the fact that she knew Lorne. Damn him!
"What aren't you telling me?"
"I'm 'not telling you' what's none of your damn business, Bishop."
She felt him come at her fast, grabbing her arm in a steel grip. Her body tensed in defense. He was only inches from her face. She could feel the heat of him, smell the wine on his breath, the earthy scent of his armor. Beyond the sound of his breathing, she could hear the wicks of the altar candles hissing and popping as the fire consumed them. "You try my patience, girl," he said quietly. "You're quick to ask me to 'share' but not too keen on reciprocation. I guess all your little lectures on friendship are bullshit just like I suspected."
That relentless gaze pinned her to the spot. Her breath quickened. She set her jaw and answered. "I knew him."
"From where?"
"My old village. He was the brother of a friend."
"Tell me all of it," he said, shaking her. "And don't lie because I'll know."
"Let go of my arm."
"Tell me."
"This is a personal -"
"Tell me!"
"He hurt me."
"Hurt you? What? Did he break your tender little heart?"
"Fuck you."
"You're lying to me."
"Bishop-"
"Fucking tell me!"
"He raped me!" The reply came out as a gasp, as if the words were unexpectedly barbed. "I was a just a child and he raped me! Happy now? Glad I shared?"
The pounding of the blood in her ears was deafening but Thea could feel herself tying off the emotion like tying a tourniquet. Bishop let her arm go after a moment and stepped away.
"Well, well, well. That explains why you turned down Khelgar's offer. I don't blame you for wanting to kill Lorne yourself. Nice dagger, by the way. Was that in your boot?"
"So you're spying on me now?" she said, replacing the dagger she'd pulled when Bishop grabbed her.
"Let's just say I like to keep tabs on what's going on."
She listened to the nearly imperceptible sound of his footfalls. The air moved rhythmically with them. He's pacing.
"You're outmatched, you know," he said after a moment.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence."
"He's part of the Circle of Blades. A trained killer. An assassin."
"Like you?"
Bishop didn't rise to the bait. "He won't care about rules. He won't give a shit about fighting fair. He wants to kill you. That means you need to do whatever you can to even the odds. Don't kid yourself about this. No matter all your bravado or how everybody follows you around like mindless sheep, you're still just a kid from the swamp. "
Thea felt her face burn at his words. "So your advice is to insult me? Funny definition of friendship you have there, Bishop."
"That depends on how you measure friendship. Do you want people telling you what you want to hear or what you need to know?"
He took her silence as agreement. "Your usual tactics won't work with him. You won't be able to talk your way out of this. He's not going to spare you, not after all Lusken went through to get you."
"So what do you suggest?"
"I've been watching him. I know how he fights. Lorne's barely keeping it together at the best of times. I could tell at the trial, he wanted to fight you then and there - not the sign of someone in control. So do this - keep hitting him, but stay out of reach. He won't have any ranged weapons, he likes that falchion too much to fight smart. He doesn't like being weighed down with armor so you shouldn't have trouble hitting him, so keep hitting him and hitting him and don't stop."
"And what's that going to accomplish?"
"At some point, he's going to lose it completely, go beserk. He'll be most dangerous then but that's when you know you've got him desperate."
Thea got up and walked up to him, pulling the dagger from her boot and flipping it in her hand. She could feel his eyes on her, measuring and anticipating. "Take it," she said, offering the dagger hilt out.
He stared at it for a while but didn't take it. "What's this for?"
"A token of friendship," she said.
"I don't need it."
"As a replacement for the one you gave at Ember, then."
"I'm touched," he sneered.
"Take the damn thing."
"Why?"
Thea smirked. "Like you, I don't like to owe any debts."
Instead of taking the dagger, he put his hand over hers and pulled her closer with a jerk, bringing his face only inches from hers. "If you feel you owe me a debt, I can think of better ways for you to repay it."
"It's not that big of a debt, Bishop."
To her surprise, he laughed. "Let me see your face."
"No."
"Suit yourself then. I suppose if Lorne kills you I'll get the chance to satisfy my curiosity, if nothing else."
Thea laughed. "Get the hell out of here." She turned and headed back to her place near the altar.
She heard his footfalls recede then stop. "Did you think of one last insult for the road?" she called sardonically.
"He expects you to be scared of him," he said, his voice surprisingly subdued. "He expects you to be that scared little kid. Don't give him that satisfaction." Then the door thumped closed and the ranger was gone.
