Disclaimer: As with every other chapter, even when I forget to include the disclaimer, Obsidian owns all characters but Kayla. The dialogue in this chapter is split, some OC, most invented, all with liberties taken.

"My lady, may I have a word with you?" Casavir asked quietly. Kayla stepped toward the paladin eagerly. He had not addressed her directly since her injury. He had been unfailingly polite to her, but any trace of his earlier friendliness was gone.

Since yesterday afternoon, he had not permitted any unnecessary noise, so he stood close to her... so close in fact that he was obliged to bend to whisper into her ear. The disparity between the intimacy of his position and the coolness of his speech was jarring.

"The time has come for you to make a decision," he whispered. "From here, we can approach Logram's lair from the hills or we may take the path."

He lowered his head further so that she might speak into his ear. His cheek was mere inches from her lips, as it had been two days before, but this time, she refrained from kissing it. He would not appreciate it.

"Which do you favor?" she asked.

He looked at her for a few moments. Kayla could only suppose he was weighing the options.

"The path," he breathed into her hair. "On it, we risk ambush, but I know the likeliest spots, and we may scout them, first. The uneven ground of the hills would slow us, and the danger of encountering more sword spiders is greater. We have been lucky so far to have met no others, but off the trail, the risk rises. We are visible on the trail, but all places will be watched. If we are forced to fight, at least the road will give us open space to do it."

Once again, he brought his ear to her face, waiting for her answer.

"I concur," Kayla answered, as if she knew what she was talking about. Casavir knew these lands. She would follow his lead.

He touched her pauldron in silent acknowledgment, then walked back up the column of the company, giving instruction. They went in single file now, with Casavir in the lead, then Kayla, then Neeshka, Qara, Elanee, and Grobnar. Khelgar brought up the rear.

Suddenly, he halted, then raised his closed fist in a signal to halt. Once more, he bent to speak into her ear.

"I heard something ahead," he informed her, "orc voices, and a rumbling... a wagon, perhaps. What are your orders?"

"Send Neeshka on ahead," she said. "She can hide herself, and report back."

He nodded, then went to the tiefling to relay the orders. If he stood a little further away from Neeshka than he did from her, she could understand it. The paladin's aura made Neeshka uncomfortable.

Kayla saw Neeshka nod.

Neeshka's ability to go unseen and unheard always surprised Kayla, even though she knew where to look. If she concentrated, she could see the rogue against the rocky slope, but as soon as she stopped concentrating, Neeshka disappeared, fading into the background. It was only with the greatest difficulty that she was able to find her again, and by that time, the rogue was nearing the bend in the trail.

A few moments later, Neeshka reappeared, practically on top of her. Kayla jumped, gasping. Casavir stepped close so that he, too, might hear Neeshka's report.

"It's Issani!" the tiefling hissed. "He's got a wagon and eight orcs, two archers, one shaman, and the rest with axes. They're coming this way. Five minutes, at most."

"Thanks, Neesh," Kayla whispered, then turned to Casavir. "We can't get out of this."

Casavir did not even bother confirming his orders with Kayla, but she did not object.

"Neeshka, get up the hill, halfway. I'll put Grobnar up there, too, and Qara, but not grouped together. Elanee does best left to her own devices. Are you up to this?" the last was directed at Kayla.

"Orcs are soft," Kayla shrugged, hefting her mace. For one fleeting moment, Casavir's face split in a grin, but the moment was gone. He went up the column, giving his orders. He and Khelgar returned, then, taking positions in front of her. He pulled on his helmet and readied his shield.

By now, even Kayla could hear the sounds of the approaching wagon.

Casavir turned to look at her, all but his eyes hidden by his helmet. He nodded once, then turned back, raising his hammer.

They caught the false Issani's party by surprise, though neither orcs nor betrayer took long to recover.

"Neverwinter fools," the impostor said as soon as he recognized Kayla. "How is it that you are all so gullible? You cannot imagine that I would let you through to reach the real Issani, not when I went to so much trouble to capture him in the first place! Orcs! Kill them! And bring me their corpses. Even dead, they may be of some use to me."

Light flared from his hands. Fire crackled around her, singeing her gambeson, but she was unhurt. She thrust out her own hand, the words of her spell ringing in the air. A column of flame sprang skyward from the ground, searing the false Issani. He screamed, but he lived.

This time, she did not pause to admire the paladin's skill, but attacked the nearest orc. She caught it in the gut, but the warrior was too tough to go down that easily. He swung with his axe, but it glanced off her shield. He swung again before Kayla was able to bring her mace to bear, but it went wide... too wide. Off balance, he was unprepared for Kayla's next blow. It landed against the side of his unarmored head with a resounding crack. For a moment, the orc stood staring at Kayla, stunned disbelief on his brutish face. Kayla blinked. For that one moment, her opponent was not an incarnation of mindless evil. He was a living creature, and he was dying. He fell and lay still, his surprised face staring up at the afternoon sky.

She had no more time to think about the orc. False-Issani's hands were raised, and Khelgar was motionless. He was not dead... he just did not move. He stood still, frozen in the act of swinging his axe. He was Held. Kayla ran to him, hitting the orc he'd been fighting in the back of the head with her mace. The orc staggered, and spun to face her instead. She had to make it quick. False-Issani was still very much a threat.

It took Kayla an infuriatingly long time to kill that orc, long enough for False-Issani's spell to wear off, but she did it, just as Khelgar's interrupted blow whiffed harmlessly over the dead orc's lifeless body.

"That one still counts as mine!" the dwarf bellowed, but he winked at Kayla.

Together, they faced False-Issani, but they were too late. The traitor lay dead, with one of Neeshka's arrows in his neck.

Casavir was returning to them, pulling off his helmet as he walked. Kayla took her only wound of the battle in that moment. His aura washed over her just as he raised his eyes to hers. Her breath caught once more at the radiance of the man. It was not only the comeliness of the mortal world, though he had that, too, but the undefinable, ethereal something, the mark of his god upon him, that stunned her. In Casavir's manly face, she beheld the divine. She turned away.

"Are you well, my lady?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"I'm not hurt," Kayla answered, hoping he would ignore the quaver in her voice.

"And you, Khelgar?" the paladin asked.

"Hmf," the dwarf muttered dismissively. "Like even one of these bastards had a chance against the wrath of a true Ironfist."

Kayla let that pass.

Casavir had taken a cut to his neck. Kayla felt faint when she saw it. From it's placement, the blow could have taken his head off.

"It is nothing, my lady," Casavir assured her. "The gorget took most of it. This is no more than a love-bite from my own armor."

It was, she saw. The line was narrow, true, but Kayla now saw that it was a bruise, not a cut, a welling of blood under the skin where it had been pinched. It likely hurt, but it was not the brush with death that she had first feared.

Elanee had taken a crossbow bolt to the flank. She had polymorphed into a bear for the battle, and still wore that shape. She could not cast herself while polymorphed, but she was always easier to treat as a bear. Elanee stood patiently while Kayla removed the bolt, then nuzzled her affectionately as the healing spell ended.

"You're welcome," Kayla said. Elanee would not change back again unless she needed to do so. She was just as silent in this shape, if it even mattered, after the din of the battle, and she could keep up just as effortlessly as a bear.

Grobnar, Neeshka, and Qara were unhurt. The two archers spent a few moments retrieving any arrows they could salvage... and picking over the bodies of the fallen.

Casavir had protested that.

"What if one of them has some secret message?" Neeshka asked sweetly. "You wouldn't want to miss out on enemy intelligence simply because you forgot to check the belt pouches, now, would you?"

"Have you found any so far?" the paladin asked skeptically.

"Well, not today, maybe," the tiefling admitted, "but I've found plenty before, let me tell you."

The paladin looked to Kayla for confirmation. She nodded truthfully. Neeshka had found valuable documents on the bodies of the slain before... and as for the trinkets, they were her primary source of income.

Kayla paused when she came to the body of the first orc she had slain. His eyes had not yet begun to cloud in death. She had killed before, even humans, on occasion, but this was the first time she really thought about it. The day before, this orc might have been sitting in Logram's greathall, harmlessly weaving a basket. He might have bounced a baby orc on his knee, or tended his elderly grandmother.

Or he might have pulled every sliver of skin from the real Issani's still-living body, Kayla reminded herself.

"We kill because we must." Casavir's resonant voice was beside her. She turned to look at him. There was sympathy in his eyes. "You are right to take no joy in it, but do not torment yourself for doing your duty. He would have killed you, if he could."

The paladin turned, as if he would walk away, but then stopped. He took one of her hands in each of his and gazed fearlessly into her eyes.

"Our gods alone judge us, Kayla of Lathander," he said, the first time he had spoken her name. "Do not shoulder that burden yourself, nor seek to weigh the guilt or innocence of those you are forced to slay. No man may know the will of the gods in all things."

He dropped her hands then, and walked away. Kayla stared after him, though for once, no impure thoughts marred her gratitude.

She was forced to run after him a moment later, however. The battle had not taken long, but it had taken time nonetheless, and it was already mid-morning.

"Will we reach Logram's lair today?" she asked him, when she finally caught him. Her companions did not complain of cold rations, but Kayla worried that the sparseness of their diet over the last three days might start to tell soon. She herself could weather lean times. She did not have a very large frame to support. But Khelgar carried a lot of muscle, and Casavir himself was a tall, strong man.

"We are not three miles distant," he answered. "We will reach it today."


Casavir's heart sank as he surveyed the outer defenses. Three sword spiders, three archers. One of the sword spiders was massive, easily the largest he had ever seen. Its carapace was ten feet across, and its legspan must have been twenty. It was the mother of all sword spiders.

They still had no antidotes.

He crept back down the hill on elbows and knees, then stood as he rejoined his companions. He briefed them all on his findings, then set about forming a plan of attack.

"How close do you have to be to cast a fireball, Qara?" he asked.

"Thirty yards, maybe," the sorceress answered. "I don't usually try for range."

"Today you do," the paladin replied. "I want you to stand on that hilltop and hit that big spider with everything you've got, from the moment you first see it. Khelgar and I will charge it, to keep it away from you. Don't worry about us..."

Not that you would, anyway...

"... just keep hitting it. Elanee, can you give us some fire resistance, just in case?"

"Certainly," the elf replied.

"Good," he said. "Direct your summons to the other two spiders, but don't polymorph yourself unless you have no other choice. Khelgar and I might need those Neutralize Poisons you prepared. Entangle, too, on the spiders. They are fast, and if you can immobilize them, our chances improve."

The paladin turned to Grobnar.

"Regeneration, Grobnar," he said. "We'll be soaking up some heavy damage out there, so we'll need all the help we can get. Can you do anything else while you sing?"

"I can fire a bow..." the gnome said hesitantly.

"But?" the paladin prompted.

"I'm not a very good shot," the gnome moaned.

"Do your best," Casavir said, "but do not allow it to become a distraction. We'll have Neeshka for missile support as well, and Qara, if she runs out of spells before we win the door. Grobnar, Neeshka, I need you to take out those archers as soon as you can. No word of our coming may reach Logram's ears."

He turned to his leader.

"Stay back," he said. "Do not engage the spiders. If one of us signals, be ready with a Neutralize Poison, but we'll need your healing spells when it ends. What offensive spells have you prepared?"

"Flame Strike," Kayla answered. "And I have some summons, too, and Hammer of the Gods."

"Good. Use the Hammer first, while they are all grouped together. Once they start to spread out, hit them with your Flame Strikes. Use your summons, if you must, but only after your Flame Strikes are spent. We might need you to convert those summons to healing spells. Have you any missile weapons yourself?"

"Acid bullets," the cleric answered.

"Use them if you run out of spells," he directed. "Stay out of the fighting. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Casavir," she said meekly.

"We'll be burning all we've got to win the door," he said, "but we'll be able to rest after that. Logram will not change the guard until sundown, and that is still nearly nine candles away. I've some Sanctuary spells, and Prayer. I will not be able to cast while fighting, but when it ends, I can ensure we are not disturbed by any new dangers while resting."

He looked at Kayla again, praying that the cleric would not rebel against his orders to stay out of it.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Do it," she said.


It had gone well, Casavir thought, very, very well. From Qara's first fireball, everything had gone according to plan.

Better than that, the paladin allowed. He had taken very little damage himself, and had only required one Neutralize Poison to remain standing. The largest sword spider was mostly dead before he and Khelgar ever reached it, and Elanee's summons had taken out one of the remaining two. Kayla's Flame Strike had finished the other.

Kayla... he had feared for her, though perhaps he should not. The dead orc had unsettled her, he knew, yet she had recovered. He knew how hard it was, to hold the power of death. The idiom included life, as well, though he always omitted it.

He felt more peaceful, now that he had resigned himself to his role. He was the advisor, and the defender, if necessary. He could do that. It was an honorable charge.

Casavir thought about his own role in the battle. He had laid the plans without ever consulting his leader. She had been gracious in allowing it, but he must remember that he was no longer the commander. He might not order Kayla's men as if they were his own. Yet she had allowed it. Perhaps he should speak with her. It was always possible that she wanted him to take that part.

And it is also possible that you will use any excuse to speak with her, he reminded himself. Her features were mobile. She could not think something, could not feel something, without her face betraying it, and she thought much. For a man like him, who could only watch life, such animation was thrilling.

He was an outsider, looking in at the lives of others. It had always been that way. His calling set him apart, he knew. No matter where his steps would take him, he would always have The Duty. The nature of The Duty changed, as his situation, and the needs of others, did, but he would always have obligations. But more than that, it was his nature. Even before he left his Order in body, he was never really a part of it. There was something missing, some lack in him, that held him back. When he left, he did not feel the heart-rending pain of separation, only the vague disappointment at himself that he had failed to live up to the expectations of others. He felt shame, perhaps, but he did not feel like he gave up part of himself in leaving. He had never really belonged.

But he did love to watch. He could watch farmers working their fields and sense their satisfaction and honest fatigue. He saw fathers, laughing with their children, tossing them into the air and catching them in their arms, and he sensed their pride, their joy at fatherhood. And if he beheld the washerwomen at the stream scrubbing linen until their hands bled, his heart broke at their poverty, but he admired their strength. He had seen the full range of human experience, but felt precious little of it.

That was why he could not take his eyes off his leader, he told himself. She felt everything, and her features mirrored her heart.

But you did feel something, his memory supplied. When you held her, when her life was returning to her, you felt contentment. You forgot even The Duty, and you slept while you should have been wakeful. She would never have caught you at it, had you been true to your obligations. You swore it would not happen again.

But it had, barely a day later. He had almost laughed at her jest over the softness of orc flesh. And he had sought to comfort her, when he saw that her conscience troubled her.

No, the latter, at least, was allowed. There was nothing in his vows that forbade compassion. Indeed, they compelled it. He could console her and stay true to The Duty.

And he would have to speak to her about his concerns over his own officiousness.

They had time. If they waited until sundown, they would take out a few more of Logram's orcs, and they would enter the lair with their spells and their bodies fresh. In the meantime, he could speak with his leader... as long as he was quiet.

They had hidden themselves among the rocks while they waited, but he remembered where his leader crouched.

Of course you remembered. You never take your eyes off her.

She looked at him curiously as he seated himself beside her. Sound carried in these hills, and he did not want to betray their presence too soon, so he had positioned himself close... too close. His shoulder touched hers.

"My lady," he began, very quietly, " In the last two battles... three... I have assumed command where I had no right."

She blinked at him in surprise.

"Are you really apologizing for winning me my last three battles?" she asked incredulously.

"No, my lady," he denied, "I am apologizing for usurping command."

"Don't, please," she insisted. "We all have our talents, Cas... Casavir, and none of mine involve strategy. I do have weapons training, though!"

The paladin almost laughed at the eagerness of her assertion. She might well feel the need to reassure him on that, if she was self-conscious about her performance with the sword spider, but it was unnecessary. Casavir had no doubts of her skill, only her physical strength. No matter how swift she was, and she was fast, there was no substitute for muscle bulk when it came to striking power. A pity she favored the mace. Surely, there was some weapon she could use that would better utilize her agility. Any weapon, really. The mace was a strong man's tool. In the hands of this whip-thin girl... well, she might as well just throw rocks. Perhaps she would allow him to train her with a rapier? He was no expert, but he knew the rudiments of it, and it was a weapon much better suited to her frame.

Guiltily, he realized that they had never finished the conversation. Indeed, she had made a comment that required some response, and he had not yet made any. He only hoped his delay might not be interpreted as insincerity.

"I do not doubt your skill," he answered truthfully. "I saw you fight the orcs when we met. I confess that I do wonder if some other weapon might suit you better, but that can wait until we have the leisure to train. For now, I wanted to learn your will regarding my role in your company. Should you desire it, I will leave matters of strategy to you."

"No, Casavir," she said quickly. "I want you to handle that part. You're better at it than I am, and I trust your judgment."

She did, he saw. Her face showed her confidence in him. For a moment, something stirred in his heart, but it was an ugly little thing. It was vanity, he knew, and he killed it as soon as he became aware of it. If she trusted him, he could be glad of it, but she did not praise him, only the result of his tutors' labors. If his battle-tactics were sound, he had only his teachers to thank for it.

He would have one more chance to prove it before they entered the lair. He had decided to wait until sundown to take out the next watch rotation as well, and the sun was lowering in the sky. He'd a half-candle, perhaps, but this would be no epic battle. It would be three or four orcs, no more, and they would enter an ambush. Neeshka could backstab one, at least, he and Khelgar could take out one apiece, and Kayla and Elanee could handle the fourth, if there was one. As far as the sentries knew, the spiders were still in position, so there would be no need to send a larger force. By the time they realized their error, they would be dead.

That, too, went according to plan. The new sentries fell swiftly, dying even before they could cry out. They could enter Logram's lair at will.