Chapter 4

My opinion of Bishop went from bad to worse. We'd been running since we'd left the inn, only stopping occasionally for him to examine the trail. It was past midday, and despite the crisp autumn weather we were all panting and damp with sweat. Khelgar and Casavir were both tired, but they seemed to be holding up better than everyone else. Everyone except Bishop, that is- he seemed just fine and dandy, whereas I was barely able to keep upright.

I was exhausted, but sheer determination to keep up with the ranger and save Shandra gave me the strength to keep going. Besides, stopping would give everyone a chance to talk to each other, and that was the last thing I wanted. Khelgar and Neeshka were both tired, thus irritable, and something told me that Bishop and Casavir wouldn't exactly get along. Although, a small part of me sort of wanted to see Cas take a swing at the cocky jerk.

Qara was also doubtless in a bad mood, though she'd been awfully quiet for the past hour or so. Almost unusually so…

I glanced back to see if she was alright. She was at the end of the group, too busy gasping and sweating to complain. I noticed that her face was a pasty white shade, and her eyes had a slightly glazed look to them. She looked like she was going to faint.

"Bishop, stop!" I called up to the man, some distance ahead. He glanced back, the usual scowl on his face, and I panted, "We need to take a break."

He jogged back, still scowling. "Fine, but make it quick."

I slumped against a tree and pulled out my waterskin, drained the last drops, and turned once again to the ranger. "Is there a stream or something around here where I can refill this?"

He didn't look at me, but at least he bothered to answer, "Not for two miles, no."

I groaned mentally and wondered if Sand's book had some sort of 'create water' spell in it.

"Mine still has some, my lady. Here," Casavir held his out to me, wiping sweat from his brow.

It is a mystery to me how a man in full plate mail can run for hours on end and still smell better than me. He wasn't sweating as hard, either. I wanted his water like you wouldn't believe, but the manners Daeghun had ingrained into my childhood self made me feel guilty about accepting it.

"I'll be fine, Cas, but thanks." My lying skills definitely weren't improving- I was still panting a bit, and my voice was dry and raspy with the need for water. I met his eyes wearily and nodded once towards Qara. "Qara might need it more than I do."

Saying that nearly killed me, since I don't even like Qara, but she still looked ready to pass out, so he just gave a grim nod and moved to offer her his flask. I tried not to whimper as she drained it.

Neeshka was staring pitifully at her own waterskin- apparently it too was empty. "Okay," I said aloud, looking around at my panting little group, "I think we should go a bit slower, at least until we reach that stream." I shot Bishop a glare. "You know, at a human pace."

He sneered at me. "Sure, but don't come crying to me if that wench of yours is dead when we reach her."

I was too tired to argue, but luckily Casavir had the energy to retort, "Our wellbeing is crucial, ranger. We will be of no use to Shandra if we find her while too exhausted to stand."

Yeah, you tell him, Cas. I felt like cheering, but all I could manage was a nod.

"Yeah?" Bishop gave the paladin a snide grin. "All right, you can tell her that when we find her. Provided she's alive and conscious, that is."

Casavir's jaw tightened, but he did not reply. I sighed, realizing Bishop had a point, and straightened. "Enough of this, we should get moving."

We set off again at an easier pace, the crisp air working to cool us down, and I found my eyes resting on Bishop.

He was a short ways ahead of us, striding easily and without a sound. His bow was slung across his back, and a sword and dagger were sheathed at his belt. I remembered Duncan's warning to keep an eye on him, and bit my lip. Bishop had the look of a predator about him, something eerily similar to that of the wolf I had encountered just two nights ago. Maybe he just needed a good scratching, like the wolf…

I had to stifle a giggle at the thought- I somehow doubted Bishop would become all soft and fuzzy if I rubbed his ears, but, hey, it was worth a shot. It wouldn't hurt to know a little about him, anyways, since he'd be traveling with us.

I jogged up beside him, smiling in what I hoped was an open and inviting way. He glared at me. Okay, so 'open and inviting' wasn't what he wanted. Maybe if I acted as angry as he was? 'Birds of a feather', and all… I pasted a scowl similar to his on my face and glared at the ground, like he'd been doing.

He glared at me again and snarled, "What the hells are you doing?"

Okay, that hadn't worked either. "Uh…" Somehow I didn't think that answering with, 'I'm trying to crack open this rough exterior of yours and see if there's a nice guy underneath' would improve his mood, much less work, so I said, "How do you know Duncan?"

He snorted. "You're not paying me to have a conversation, ladyship, now fall back in line."

I blinked. There had been a slight, but undeniable, mocking undertone to his voice when he'd called me 'ladyship.' What, he was too good to use my name? 'Brin' was a great name, way better than 'Bishop.' What kind of a name was that, anyway? It was a chess piece, that's what it was, or a position in a temple, not a name. "Well, what if I paid you? Then would you talk to me?"

He snorted again. Maybe he had a cold. "There's no amount of gold that can by my thoughts."

"How about twenty gold?"

He gave me a long, appraising look, and finally conceded, "All right, girl. But you aren't getting much for that amount."

My name wasn't a bad word in 'ugly jerk' language, was it? He seemed to avoid using it. And I hardly think that being nearly twenty qualifies me for the title of 'girl.' I decided not to mention that, though, since doing so might make him clam up. He had agreed to talk to me, after all.

"Okay," I started slowly, wondering what to ask him, "Well… how do you know Luskan territory so well?"

Wonders about, he answered without looking like he wanted to kill me. "Not a big fan of those low-justice loving murderers. The whole city's like a big thieves' guild, crushed under the Hostower mages." He shot me a sidelong glance. "If you know what's good for you, you tend to avoid their patrols at an early age. And then, if you're good, you keep doing it until your luck runs out."

The way he said that made me shudder to think of what might happen if your luck did run out, but I decided not to press the issue. "Okay," I tried to think of something better to ask about. Likes, dislikes, favorite color, stuff like that. "So what do you do when you aren't escorting people through a forest? Or drinking in my uncle's inn?"

He smirked and glanced at me again, longer this time. When he spoke next his voice was different, lower, and he drawled, "Well, now, that's a rather intimate question."

I narrowed my eyes and he continued harshly, once again scowling, "What, you think a little gold and honeyed words is going to soften me up, show you my tender side?" Crap, he was onto me. "Well, think again. I'll need more on both side of the fence to do that."

I crossed my arms. "Look, just answer the question, okay? What do you do when you aren't escorting people?"

"Shooting them with arrows mostly, or tracking them down so someone else can kill them." That didn't exactly surprise me. He smirked again, "That a good enough answer for you? I'm only half serious, but that's all a pinch of gold'll buy you."

"Of course it is…" I muttered under my breath with a sigh. We continued in uncomfortable silence for a minute, until I spoke up again, "Duncan mentioned you were a smuggler."

Bishop didn't look at me, but there was a bitter taste to his words as he answered, "Oh he did, did he? I'll have to have a little talk with Duncan."

I paused midstep, then continued with one fist clenched. Being a rude, arrogant jerk was one thing, but threatening my uncle was another. "And tell your uncle that the next time he opens his trap, I'm going to close it for him." I scowled fiercely as he grumbled, "Worthless drunk."

"Just what is your problem with him, anyway?" I snapped, finally losing my patience. "So you owe him, so what? What's he got over you, anyway?"

I wondered for a moment if that had been a mistake, but he simply stopped and gave me a cocky sneer. "That's none of your business, ladyship." He nodded to the side. "And your stream's over there."

"We'll make camp here," Bishop's voice cut through the near-silence of the forest. "It's too dark to follow the trail without risking losing it."

He had stopped a short ways ahead, in a relatively flat clearing, and we filed tiredly in behind him. I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and wasn't even surprised when my left boot caught in a raised root. I yelped a bit and landed on my face, my pride bruised.

Casavir was instantly kneeling at my side. "Are you hurt, my lady?" his voice was laced with concern.

"Mmph," I replied eloquently against the grass. I lifted one hand, giving him a thumbs up, and muttered, "It's all good. You guys go ahead, I'm gonna stay here."

I heard the sounds of pack and bedrolls being dropped as the paladin pulled me chivalrously to my feet. "Fine, fine, have it your way," I sighed. "Mm, it's my turn to cook, isn't it?" Normally I didn't mind cooking, even enjoyed it, but right now I was likely to fall asleep with my face in the meal.

Casavir saved me. "Actually, I believe Khelgar packed that dried lamb we bought yesterday. "

"Aye, lad, it's all here. Cooked an' ready to go."

I smiled dreamily. "Congratulations. You just became my new favorite person."

"Hey!" Neeshka pretended to be offended. "What about me?"

"Nah," the prospect of food was putting me in a better mood. "The rest of ya'll suck." I winked at Neeshka, who rolled her eyes.

"Hah! Take that, fiendling!"

"Oh, would you two stow it for once!" Qara's exhaustion had put her in a worse mood than usual. Khelgar and Neeshka gave her identical grimances, and I burst out laughing.

The sorceress swiveled her glare to me, and I hastily cleared my throat. "So, ah, who… who wants to get firewood?"

There was a long silence. Casavir finally sighed and rose. "I will, I suppose. Save me some lamb, would you?"

"Yeah, no problem," I promised as he set out. Khelgar dished us each equal portions and we began to munch the dry, stringy meat in silence. It was tough, and rather bland, but I was so hungry I couldn't have cared less.

I remembered some bags of dried fruit and nuts Duncan had given me, and grabbed my pack. "Here, Duncan gave me this yesterday, before we ran off to Shandra's farm. I haven't eaten any yet, so there's plenty here…"

"Ooh," Neeshka eyed the bad of fruit with interest, tail waving back and forth. "That actually looks really good."

"Here," I tossed her one small satchel, then set the other few packages out in the middle of our impromptu little circle. I ate my meal slowly, savoring each bite as the pangs of hunger in my stomach slowly ebbed. The fruit was tangy and sweet and the nuts, mostly almonds, added a pleasant flavor to the lamb. Casavir returned before I had finished, and with Qara's help we lit a small fire.

We ate in silence. I finished first and pulled out my spellbook, determined to read at least a few pages despite my weariness. Upon opening it a thought struck me, and I said out loud, "Hey, Qara?"

"Huh?"

I took a deep breath. I had hoped to bring this up with Sand, but since he wasn't here and it looked like we would be seeing combat soon I would have to settle for Qara.. "Um… you're a sorceress, right?"

She blinked at me.

"Right. Um... my question is- see this page, here?" I tilted the open book towards her, and she gave a nod. "Well, I can tell that the spell on it is some sort of fireball. But not a normal one- like a really, really big scary monster fireball."

She shrugged. "Sure. They're called hellballs, I think."

"Yeah, I can make that out in the margins." I slid a finger along the parchment's edge, my eyes roving over the runes scribbled onto the page. Some made sense, and I could look at and think of the matching incantation. But others- on this particular page, many others- swam before my eyes. "Well, when I look at the words for it, it's like they're-"

"Blurry?" she interjected dryly.

"Yeah. I can't tell when the inscriptions say, or what they mean."

She scoffed, holding her hands palm-up to the fire. "It's 'cause you're a mage. Your type can't cast spells until you've learned all the words and runes that go along with them." She sniffed, and there was a smug tone to her voice as she added, "Sorcerers, we can just shape the magic as we want. We grow more powerful the more we cast- you wizards have to bury your faces in books in order to learn anything."

"Oh," I tried not to sound downcast. Or like an idiot- before meeting the fiery red-head, I hadn't even know sorcerers and mages were two different things. Magic was definitely my strength, but I had never received much instruction in the art. "So... it just takes studying? And time, I guess? There's no way to-"

"Nope. It'll probably take years for you to figure a Hellball out."

"Oh," I said again. My follow-up question had been to ask her for some instruction, but I decided to wait for Sand instead. "Okay."

A brief silence ensued, until Khelgar broke it. "Ye want me for the first watch, lass?"

Oops, I had forgotten to plan this out. "Oh... actually, I'll take it." I was going to be up for a while studying my book anyway, so I figured I might as well take the first watch. "You can take second, though. Casavir can have the third, and Neeshka the fourth." Qara, being more tired and unused to traveling than the rest of us, would need more rest. And there was no way I was trusting Bishop on watch.

"Alright then. Sleep tight, an' all." He took off his armor, crawled into his bedroll, and was snoring within seconds. Qara followed suit, then Neeshka, and finally Casavir. I bid them all a tired goodnight, flipping through my book, when I realized that Bishop was gone. I felt a rise of panic but quickly quelled it- he was probably just relieving himself, or something. Hopefully.

I returned to the book, absently nibbling on some almonds. After a few minutes of searching, I found a spell that, though new, looked understandable and useful. It was straightforward, a simple spell to summon water, and after reading the incantation silently to myself a few times I felt confident enough to try it.

I pulled out my water skin, placed it between my legs, and began chanting. It worked- magic swirled between my outstretched fingers, transformed, and the flask became almost half-full. I gave a triumphant grin and emptied the waterskin, ready to try again and a dozen more times until I knew it by heart. I began, and had just reached the last syllable when a twig snapped not three feet behind me, and my focus was disrupted.

Instead of a few teaspoons of water, a veritable tub of it came pouring from thin air. It landed in my lap and splashed into my face, as if I had aimed it at myself, and within seconds I was thoroughly drenched. I scrambled to my feet, shivering, and staggered closer to the fire. Winter was still a ways away, but the temperature had dropped harshly at sundown and I was now freezing.

I shivered by the fire and heard a low, rusty chuckle from near my book. I turned to look at Bishop, who was leaning against a tree and grinning at me. I noticed vaguely that, while the ranger's laughter was almost pleasant, the cruel tilt to his grin gave his whole demeanor an unpleasant cast. "I didn't startle you, did I?"

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. "J-j-jerk." Not my greatest insult, but it was all I could manage at the moment.

Bishop chuckled again and pushed off the tree, moving soundlessly to his bedroll. "Little girls like you should really be more careful, out in the woods at night." He positively leered at me, and my next shudder wasn't caused by the cold. "You never know what might creep up on you."

My teeth were chattering too hard to reply, so he just chuckled at me again and slid into his bedroll. I glared, but he rolled over to face away from me, so it was useless. I sighed and started rubbing my arms, moving as close to the fire as possible.

I'd tried to give Bishop a chance earlier, but it seemed he was determined to be difficult. Who did he think he was, anyway, creeping up on me like that? And being a cocky jerk all day, besides. Well, two could play at this game, and I would just have to show him that I was in charge, here.

Still, as I sat shivering by the fire, I couldn't help but think that, if this was a game, then he was winning.