The next day found them trudging through the forest, in uncomfortable silence. The weather had changed, and rain was pouring down on their heads, very fitting to their subdued mood. The soggy ground squelched under their feet as they made their way through the woods, following no path Chantal or Casavir could discern.
They were following Bishop, who took the lead, head bowed, his hands tied up behind his back again. He had not spoken more than a handful of words the whole day. That suited Chantal just fine, she was not in a chatting mood either. And Casavir – well, he seemed to have relapsed into his old brooding self again.
Oh yes, aren't we a merry band.
The thought nearly made her smile for the first time that day. The whole situation was just too absurd. Bishop, walking first, face impassive, not giving away anything. Then Casavir, insisting on going second, between her and the ranger, radiating gloom and mistrust, piercing Bishop's back with his angry stare. And her, following those two, caught between her hate for the treacherous bastard and the need to rescue Neeshka, having to convince Casavir of something she was not really convinced of herself.
How she loathed having to rely on Bishop! He was a double-faced, conniving poisonous viper, and you could not believe one word that left his lying mouth. What the gods was he intending? Nothing would ever make her believe he was trying to help. There had to be an ulterior motive, but she just could not think of anything, no matter how much she turned and twisted it in her mind. What did he have to gain?
He had risked his life by showing his face to her. He was not stupid, he had to know that. So if he wanted to give killing her another try, why not do it from a safe distance, using a nice poisoned arrow or something? He did not have to come near them for that. So it had to be something else.
He might be planning to betray them to Luskan, but she could not really believe that. The Luskans would see Bishop hang as well, even if he tried to get back into their good graces again by delivering Chantal and Casavir. Luskans were not known for their forgiveness, and Bishop would be taking a very big risk. He was not stupid enough for that either. Besides, Chantal thought, he hated Luskan too much to do anything for them, no matter the reward.
So why? What else could there be? He was facing a lot of discomfort, not to mention the risk to his life. And his pride had to hurt quite a bit, too, she thought, remembering the treatment he had received yesterday. Well earned, to be sure, but it still had to be hard for him to swallow. He must have a very good reason to endure all that. But she just could not think of one.
He did not even want to tell them where they were going. When she had asked him, he had thrown her an ironic look.
"Luskan", he just said laconically.
She had been ready to throttle him there and then.
"We better be", she answered icily. "Care to tell me how you are planning to get us in?"
"No", he just said, holding her threatening gaze defiantly.
She felt the urgent need to punch his face. Clenching her hands, she gritted out: "You better tell me."
He just shrugged and turned away. "Make me", he said.
Gods, how she would have enjoyed making him tell her. Preferably involving the use of several sharp implements. And a lot of screaming on his part.
Again, you are the good one, you can't resort to torture, no matter how tempting the idea.
Shame, really. But short of torture, she knew she would get nothing out of him, so she let it go, swallowing her helpless fury, because she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him rile her.
And now they were following him through the dripping forest, cold and wet, stumbling through the undergrowth, and they had no idea where he was leading them.
Very bright idea, following him blindly.
It certainly was all kinds of stupid. But what choice did she have, really? Before Bishop came out of the woods, bold as brass, she had been at a total loss. How ever were they going to rescue Neeshka? She had not the slightest idea. She could not let Casavir see, of course, he was hanging on by a thread anyway. The thought of losing Neeshka was leaving him in despair, and knowing that Chantal did not believe they could get her out, he would have just given up. She thought he was ready to lie down and die, too, and she could not let that happen.
So she tried to appear optimistic, and chipper, and hoped he would not see through the charade. She did not believe she had been very convincing, despite her bardic training at telling tales, but Casavir was probably too involved in his misery to really pay attention. That still left her with the unsolved problem of city gates, guards and prisons, and Casavir was not going to be a big help, that much was clear.
So when Bishop made his outrageous suggestion, she had listened out of pure desperation. Whatever his motives, he was right: He was their one and only chance to do something for their friend. Having Bishop as your only chance was like jumping from a mountain and hoping a cloud would cushion your fall, but what else could she do? So she was laying all their lives in his hands. You'd have to laugh, really, if you weren't so busy muting your common sense that was screaming at your brain to start working already.
Her thoughts returned to the present when she walked into Casavir, his armour connecting painfully with her forehead. Rubbing her smarting skin she craned her neck around the paladin, searching for the reason for the holdup.
She saw Bishop standing in front of a ruined house. Obviously, the small hut had burned down some time ago, blackened timbers still sticking up in the air. She pushed at Casavir to get moving again and shoved him right up to Bishop, throwing the ranger a questioning glance.
He pointed his head at a crumbling well by his side.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me!
Chantal stared at the derelict well in disbelieve. He could not want them to climb down there, couldn't he? Again, she gave him an inquiring look, but the smirk on his face told her enough.
Yes, he could.
"No way I am going down there!", she said firmly.
He just shrugged. "Your call. If you want to save the demon girl, you'll do it. If not, you don't. I don't care either way." He threw back his soaked hood with a flick of his head, shaking himself like a dog, sending drops flying out of his wet hair.
"Now wait a moment", Casavir's rumbling voice sounded. "You can't expect us to…"
"I don't expect you to do anything", Bishop interrupted scathingly. "I think I just made myself clear. Do what you will, I don't care. Just stop boring me with your indecision."
With that, he just turned his back on them. Chantal gave Casavir a helpless glance. His face looked like thunder. He obviously was not happy as well.
Chantal's mind worked feverishly. This just reeked of a trap! Who knew what was waiting for them down there? Had Bishop really led them here to hand them over to their enemies? Or was he planning something else as soon as he had them down there, at his mercy? If they climbed down the well, she would have to free his hands, no telling what he might do then…
She drew a deep breath, steeling herself for Casavir's reaction. "We'll do it", she said.
"What?", the paladin exploded, as she had expected. "You can't be serious!"
She put a hand on his arm, trying to calm him. "Bishop's right", she said. "We did not come this far just to turn back now. We have no choice and he knows it, so why pretend? If we want to help Neeshka, we'll have to go down there. So we'll go. As simple as that. I know we can't trust him, in fact I would prefer to push him down that well and just leave him to die, but unfortunately that is out of the question."
"He is standing right here, you know?", Bishop remarked, acidly.
"I know", she said sweetly, turning to him. "Hold still", she ordered, and started untying the rope around his wrists.
When his hands were free, Bishop could not repress a sigh of relief as he loosened his cramped shoulders and started to massage the feeling back into his fingers. Chantal threw a pleading look at Casavir, who ran his hands through his hair tiredly and just said: "Very well."
"Down boy, sit.", Bishop said under his breath.
Chantal threw him a withering glance, which unfortunately was lost, since he still had his back to her. "Stow it, Bishop", she said.
Finally he turned around, his amber eyes meeting her squarely for the first time this day. She could see the challenge in them.
"Does he play dead, too?", he asked.
Chantal met his gaze, her eyes promising murder. And, wonders over wonders, the ranger shut up. Chantal sighed. Thank the gods for small favours. The last thing she needed was having to keep Casavir from Bishop's throat right now.
She glanced at Casavir, his face still stormy, and hoped he would show that famous paladin restraint, keeping his anger in check. Then she stepped nearer to Bishop, so her words would be for his ears alone, and said quietly:
"Please? At least, tell me what's down there." Maybe asking nicely would get her where threats obviously could not.
Bishop looked into her face. But instead of the expected contempt he saw only an earnest plea in her eyes. Maybe it was the word "please", but somehow he felt compelled to answer her.
He turned his gaze away again and shrugged. "Tunnels, sewers", he said gruffly. "Sunken city. Hordes of undead. And an entry to Luskan." He gave her a short glance, and saw her eyes were on his face, searchingly, and they still showed nothing of the fury and hate he had seen in them before. Something softened in him. "It's no trap", he added, looking away quickly before she could read his expression.
"It better not be", she said, still in that quiet, serious tone of voice. "Because, Bishop – if it is, no matter what is waiting down there, I will find a way to get to you before it gets to us. Keep that in mind."
Somehow, maybe because it was said without anger, only matter-of-factly, in that quiet, calm voice, it was much more threatening than the ranting she had given him yesterday. He sure hoped that nothing was down there – you never knew what wandered these tunnels. If something was there, he probably would get no real chance to explain.
He only gave a short nod in acknowledgement. They would find out soon enough.
Chantal drew a deep breath. "Fine", she said. "Let's get going." She nodded at Bishop. "You go first."
"You can't seriously…", Casavir broke in again, but she silenced him with a look.
"We've been through that already", she said, suddenly feeling tired. Travelling with these two was like trying to juggle cats and dogs simultaneously. "He goes first. I know it's risky, but it still beats having him in our backs while climbing down."
Bishop just gave a snort and took the rope she had used on him out of her hands. "We better use this", he said. "There are spurs in the wall, but they have been there for some time and I don't trust them completely. And they will be slippery in this wet weather."
"I'm not leaving this rope here", she said, looking firmly into his eyes. "And I'm following you closely on your way down."
He sneered. "Suit yourself. Just don't blame me if you break every bone in your body."
Chantal turned to the paladin. "You will stay up here until I reach the bottom and tell you it's clear."
Casavir's blue eyes searched hers imploringly. "Please, at least let me go down first."
She shook her head. "No, Casavir. This is a risk I'll only take personally. It was my decision to follow him, so I will take the consequences. If…", she paused, "if something happens, don't come down after me, you hear? This is an order! You will turn back and find a way to help Neeshka without me. Understood?"
He swallowed and nodded, his eyes sorrowed. "Yes, my lady."
She gave him a short hug. Behind her, Bishop snorted again.
"Can we just cut the theatrics and get going already?", he said.
She turned and looked down the well, the first spurs clear to see. "Did you put them here?", she asked.
But he just wordlessly swung his legs over the edge of the well and started to climb down, not looking back. Obviously, his short bout of openness was at an end. Chantal steeled herself and followed, close behind.
Well, here goes nothing.
xxx
Bishop climbed down the slippery spurs very carefully, testing each thoroughly before putting his weight on it. He left them many years ago, when he needed a secure route in and out of the city. They might have gone brittle. And the crumbling walls of the well did not add to safety, either.
His stomach was still churning after the touching scene he had just witnessed. First, she talked about him as if he were not even there, then she played some woeful piece of farewell to the paladin. Made him want to slap her face.
You can't blame her for expecting the worst, can you?
Well, he hoped she fell and broke her neck. Would serve her right.
He arrived at the bottom of the well, where to his relief nothing else moved, took a step back and looked up. She had fallen behind a bit, not as used to this climbing as he was. He saw her take her eyes off the spurs, to peer down at him…
No! Don't look down! Concentrate on what you're doing!
…when the spur she was holding on to broke out of the wall, and she slipped, and with a surprised cry she fell.
No!
Without thinking, he jumped, reached out and caught her in his arms, the impact throwing him back against the wall of the tunnel. Instinctively, his arms closed tightly around her, her weight crushing against his chest, driving the air out of his lungs. He stood, gasping, eyes closed, shock coursing through him and making his knees weak, still holding on tight.
Then he opened his eyes, and looked into her face. Her eyes were wide, shocked, her face pale, her lips opened slightly, her breath coming in gasps. He stared into her eyes, could not look away, and somehow everything around him seemed to fade. His deadly grip loosened, and one of his hands moved, wanting to touch her hair, to make sure she was all right…
"My lady?", the paladin's anxious voice came down the well. "Are you well?"
Bishop practically shoved her away, into the opposite wall. "Better say something", he sneered. "Before he suspects I was trying to murder you."
He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at her defiantly. She held his gaze, the shock still visible on her face.
"I'm fine, Casavir", she called, her voice not yet steady. "I slipped and fell." After a nearly unnoticeable pause, she added: "Bishop caught me." Her eyes still were on his.
"Reflex. Could not help it", he muttered, looking away.
What had she seen on his face?
He felt a surge of panic. What had there been for her to see?
"I'm coming down!", the paladin's voice sounded out from above, followed by some clattering noises when he climbed over the edge of the well in full armour.
Well, I sure as hell am not catching him if he falls!
He arranged his face into his usual scowl. "I hope he is not as clumsy as you are, my lady. If so, you can catch him yourself if he is stupid enough to climb in all that metal."
She gave him a last searching glance, then she reverted her attention to the paladin. "Take it slow, Casavir", she called. "The spurs gave out under me, and I don't carry as much weight around with me as you do. Test each one carefully."
Bishop leaned against the wall, arms still crossed over his chest, staring into the dark tunnel ahead, while the paladin took his time clattering down the well.
I have to be more careful. Have to keep my distance. Or it will all happen again.
Should have known it was a bad idea, helping them.
Well, he had known. Had to do it nonetheless. The thought of those Luskan dogs getting their paws on her was just too much. He knew too well what they would do. Quickly, he shoved the image away before the pain could hit.
But he just could not let that happen to her.
She's getting to you again.
It was true. He could not help it. What was it with her? He just did not understand.
Maybe you don't need to.
True. The why was not really important, wasn't it? The important thing was to get away. Get it over with this idiotic rescue mission, and if he somehow survived this, he would simply run. Far, far away. Get as much space between them as he could.
I'm sure they have some really bad booze in Calimshan or wherever, too.
Yes. That's what he would do. Maybe the distance would achieve what killing her could not.
Somehow relieved, now that he had made up his mind, he realised that the paladin had reached the bottom of the well. And that the ice queen was standing in front of him, the blasted rope in her hands.
"You're joking, right?", he asked, eyebrows arched. She just looked at him.
"Look", he said, trying to sound as reasonable as possible while clenching his jaw, "I told you there are hordes of undead ahead. Don't you think it would be better if I could defend myself?"
She still looked at him, rope in hand, waiting. He bit back a curse. "This is ridiculous. What's more, it's dangerous down here. I'm not letting you tie me up."
She shrugged. "And you will stop me how? As long as you don't tell me what you're up to, I'll bind your hands. I'm not taking more risks having you around than absolutely necessary."
He scowled at her. "I should just vanish into those tunnels and leave you to starve down there".
She smiled sweetly. "Tell me why you don't? I remember asking that since you turned up so helpful all of a sudden."
He growled and turned his back on her, hands behind him. "Do your worst", he said coldly. "But remember, if I die, chances of you finding your way out of here again are very slim indeed."