XII: Slow Down, Ranger
Can he go slower? Yes, he can. But will he? Oh no, no way in the Hells!
Adele winced, but didn't slower her pace, even despite the pain in her hip. She couldn't say for certain, but as far as her feelings went the cut started bleeding.
Need to make a bandage during the halt. Of course, if there will be any halt…
Judging by the speed Bishop maintained - and his moods – the ranger didn't plan on any halts. During all the time they moved (actually, ran) north, the ranger never said a single word. He just strode briskly way ahead of the rest of them, side by side with his wolf, looked down on the ground, around, sometimes stopped for a moment or two, catching sight of something, but immediately resumed his pace without explaining what it was that drew his attention. Adele herself noticed several odd marks of the gith's moving – broken bush, droplets of dark blood, grass crumpled in the opposite direction from the wind – but the woman doubted very much that she would have been able to pick up the trail as confidently as Bishop had, especially in her present state.
Neverwinter and its forest were long way behind already. No, the forest continued, but it was… different. The trees became sparse but bigger, the grass was disappearing, replaced by the dry fallen pine needles, entangled in tortile stalks of some northern plants that felt springy underfoot. The woman didn't think it was famous Duskwood, but something told her that even if they hadn't crossed Luskan border yet, they were already pretty close to it.
The rays of midday sun seeped through crowns of trees, but the sun itself hadn't risen long ago enough to warm up the air, humid and cold from the raining at night. Adele heard Neeshka, who was running alongside with her, chatter her teeth quietly. Elanee, moving after the tiefling, looked serene and almost happy, despite the tiredness and chill. Seemed the druidess again enjoyed the mere presence in the wild – no matter the reasons or circumstances. The one to feel himself best appeared Grobnar – he ran forward skippingly, turning his head from side to side, and his tiny feet made no sound touching the ground.
Without slackening his pace or – again – saying anything, Bishop came up to one of the trees, grabbed the lower branch, effortlessly pulled himself up on it and swiftly climbed higher, until he got lost in the foliage. Throwing her head back, Adele saw him above. Holding a firm bough for balance, the ranger peered into the distance, himself almost indiscernible among the leaves in his grey-green cloak.
"…ooh," using the pause, Khelgar recovered his breath heavily and wiped his reddened face dry. The cushy wound on his forehead also hadn't clotted yet, but that apparently didn't bother the dwarf in the slightest. "The lad must 've ox sinew – ta gallop like that."
"We aren't going to rest, are we?" Neeshka asked without hope, bending her head down and setting her palms against her knees.
"We have no choice," Casavir answered. His face was calm and straight as usual, but Adele saw a small vein pulsing on his temple from the tension. "The githyanki had not intended to kill Shandra, but we cannot risk her well-being."
Qara jerked her head upwards, in the direction where Bishop had disappeared: "Somebody ask the monster if we have a long way ahead still?"
"Ask by yourself," the ranger snapped, jumping down to the ground and not deigning a glance at her. "But don't expect any answer."
Grobnar ran up to him: "Sir Bishop, maybe we could afford a little break? Not that I am tired, no, nothing like that – it's more like I am fatigued a bit."
"You can even die, gnome, for all I care."
"Well, but if we all just – as you've expressed yourself harshly – die, then what's the point? I mean, in that case we won't be able to save miss Shandra, will we?"
"But I'll be free and clear," he regarded them with a gloomy stare, that declared their utter hopelessness, and gave his head a single disdainful shake. "Half an hour."
Khelgar breathed out in relief, falling on his back and stretching out his legs with obvious pleasure: "That's somethin' at least."
The others also sat – if not collapsed – on the grass. Casavir took a flask of water out of his bag, passing it around. Qara created a small ball of fire in the air and started warming her hands up in front of it, not paying attention to Tamin, who took his time to whisk busily into the paladin's opened bag. Casavir watched the weasel for some time almost curiously, then carefully pulled him out and placed on his mistress' lap. Adele lowered herself on a large tree-root, partly wrenched out of the ground, and pursed her lips tightly, straightening her injured leg.
"Take this," Elanee handed her a couple of dark-green leaves of some plant. "They would close the bleeding. I picked them on the way, seeing how you walk. They'll have to do until we camp and I'll be able to heel the cut properly."
"Thanks," Adele smiled at her cursorily, taking clean cloth-straps out of her bag. Life in the Mere taught her all too well never to leave home without possible bandages.
Wiping off dirt and blood, she tore apart the leaves the druidess gave her, placed them against the wound and dressed it, trying to make the bandage not too tight – she had enough to worry about without a blocked artery. Sitting erect and brushing away a few loosed tresses of hair from her forehead, she smiled again as she saw Elanee approaching Khelgar – probably with the same proposition of stopping the bleeding. Neeshka flopped down on the ground beside the root Adele was sitting on, and the woman noticed the way the tiefling flinched, rubbing her ankle.
"What's up?" she asked.
Neeshka shrugged: "Leg cramped," she shot a glance at the ranger, who was standing markedly aside from the rest, with his back to them, his stare fixed on the opening between the trees. "Not that someone cares, of course… Shit, he'll get us all killed by evening."
"Uh-huh. The question is – by the journey or by his own hands," taking a deep and doomed sigh, Adele stood up, brushing her palms and breeches from the adhered damp needles and leaves. "No, it's not going to work that way."
Crossing their extempore camp, she closed the distance to Bishop, trying to ignore the wolf sitting at his master's feet and meeting the woman with a suspicious glare and a low growl.
"Yes, yes," Adele nodded at the animal. "You are both very friendly, got that already."
She looked up at the ranger. He didn't move, standing half-turned to her and not showing any signs if he noticed her at all. His tawny face kept a grimly disinterested expression with a faint trace of irritation, his eyes were still fastened on the distance farther ahead, sometimes sliding along the thin path that led forward… and Adele suddenly realized that his silent annoyance was caused not by their company (or rather, not only by their company) but also by something else…
"Anything wrong?" she asked.
He didn't answer, didn't turn, didn't look at her, continuing to ignore her presence. Adele drew in the air through her clenched teeth and crossed her arms on her chest: "I asked a question."
"I heard it," he replied.
"…And? You have some kind of curse on you that makes you die if you answer questions?"
"You aren't paying me, princess – so I'm not obliged to entertain you with chatting."
Oh gods, so what, now we should strangle ourselves from happiness that we've got such a treasure for free?
She jerked her head up a bit: "Alright. What if I pay you?"
He smirked wryly, still not looking at her: "You don't have enough gold to buy my thoughts right now, trust me."
"Twenty?"
"…Alright. Maybe I was wrong," he glanced at her sideways, watching the woman taking a purse out of her bag and counting out the coins, and took them with a dead-pan look. "You won't get much for that amount anyway," he added and grinned floutingly, raising his brows: "So, what is it my lady wants?"
She sighed: "What's the problem, Bishop?"
"You mean, aside from the fact that I'm dragging myself into Luskan territory for some stupid farm wench?"
"…Let's get some things straight, shall we?" she pressed the fingers of her folded arms, squeezing her elbows. "We are enjoying your company no more than you enjoy ours, believe me. But it so happened that we need your help. If I could lead them through the trail – I would have. But I can't. I don't know this area. I'll stroke your ego even more and admit that I'm far from being as good in tracking as you are. Happy?"
"Like a gnome," he answered without the slightest changes to his voice. "So?"
"So," she sighed again patiently, "I'm not asking you to be our best friend or something – but can you at least not wreak your foul mood on my companions?"
"I'm not wreaking anything, princess. I want to go through Luskan and get away as soon as possible. You want to come across their patrols – be my guest, but don't expect me to keep you company."
…Brilliant, Delly. As a result he is a cold-blooded professional, and you are an offended whining fool.
Bracing herself, she moved her shoulder, trying to take up the same business-like tone: "Had that much encounters with Luskans?"
His eyes narrowed slightly: "Enough for a lifetime, let's say."
"Wonder what is it you do in your lifetime, then?" she hemmed. "Well, of course, apart from nobly escorting people through forests."
The ranger shifted his shoulder in mock evasiveness: "Well now, that's a rather… intimate question…"
"Why is that, all of a sudden?" Adele drawled, when he abruptly turned to her and bent down, leaning his face almost right up to hers:
"Want me to answer… or show, hmm?" he whispered, making her deviate back a little in alarm that the ranger for whatever reason was going to kiss her. But he just arched his eyebrow, a thin crooked smile twitching his lips: "Or you think that a pinch of gold and your pretty muzzle is going to soften me up, make me open my tarnished soul and confide the sorrows of my life? Think again, princess. I'll need much more on both sides of the fence to do that."
Adele grinded her teeth: "Damn, I recall only asking a simple question – what is it you're doing when not escorting people?"
"Shooting them with arrows mostly," he answered, his rusty voice again indifferent and impassive, and stood up strait, fixing his eyes back at the forest as if nothing happened. "Or tracking them down so somebody else can kill them," he cast her another derisive sidelong glance. "Good enough answer for you? That's all twenty golds will buy you."
"Wonderful," Adele pointed icily. "Why is it I always happen to pay double for some shit?"
He clicked his tongue: "Well, prices are high nowadays."
"Who'd know better than a smuggler, huh?" Adele nodded and, noticing another short glance, this time a little wary one, smiled: "Yeah, I know. Duncan said."
Bishop smiled back, though his smile looked more like lupine bared teeth:
"Oh, he did, did he? Guess I'll have to have a little talk with Duncan. Or you tell him the next time he opens his trap, I'm going to close it for him," his gaze returned to the forest, smile gone. "Worthless blabbing drunk…"
"And what's the matter? You ashamed of that? Somehow I doubt that guilty conscience keeps you awake at nights."
"Well, it's not like you are sleeping beside to know that, are you. Or you want to check?"
She winced, stepping back: "Fine, fine. The Hells with you, ranger. Just do your job and follow the trail. Considering it's not that hard this time."
Bishop cocked his head to the shoulder, again quirking up his brow. Adele rolled her eyes: "Oh, I'm sorry, in no way am I questioning your know-how and all that, but some traces – no offence - are too obvious."
"You are not as offensive as you want to be, princess," he shifted his stare back to the forest ahead. "It's just what I was thinking. Too obvious."
Adele felt taken aback by this unexpected change of moods and topic: "Really?"
"Yeah… Our friends moving straight to the north-east, not turning, not twirling, not even trying to cover their tracks…" he squinted, peering into the thick of trees, and shook his head. "I don't like it."
"If they are in a hurry, that's natural."
"If," Bishop nodded and once more eyed the woman, with slight surprise, as if for the first time he got the idea that she was not a complete nonentity: "Well now, you do seem to know your way around the wilderness. Wonder how you and Duncan could possibly be related."
"My father is a ranger. So don't think you are the only one around who won't get lost in the woods."
"Really hope so. I've got signed up for only one saving operation," leaving no time for her to answer, he stared back into the forest. "Speaking of which – we should get moving. Maybe we'll close up in a bit by evening."
"…Just a little slower, alright? Please?"
"And what am I supposed to do with your 'please' – eat it or sell it?" he snorted, then shrugged uncaringly. "As you like. After all, it's not my friend being tortured by gith right now."
Shaking her head, Adele turned away from him and headed towards others, nodding slightly at Neeshka's questioning glance. Smiling with relief, the tiefling got to her feet, taking a few steps to make sure her leg recovered from the spasm.
"It should be easier from now on," Adele reassured her.
"Did you kick him?" Neeshka asked hopefully.
"Nah, alas," the woman sighed. "Hope you've got some of our money on you? I'm afraid I'll run out of any too soon as the case is."
