Deja vu all over again... I have replaced and updated this chapter after realising the split-screen action wasn't working. Hopefully this will sort out any chronology confusion.
...
Finn forced his anxious feet to slow down. The trail that the bandits had left through the trees was easy enough to follow, but he had lost it more than once in his haste. And as the trees grew closer together the undergrowth was lighter, leaving much less of a trail.
He slowed, his eyes trained on the ground like a hunting dog. The signs were there, but easy to miss. The mark of a heel in the mud, a snapped branch on a sapling. Luckily orcs weren't light of foot. It made his job easier, but he wondered for how much longer.
The forest became steadily rockier the further on he went. He was going uphill, and it was rough going. Somewhere up above the canopy of leaves he could see the sun, powerless to penetrate those darkened glades. But it still moved all too quickly across the sky. Those bandits must have marched right through the night. Each time he mounted a rise Finn expected to see them. But there was nothing, only ever more trees.
Finn paused, leaning on his knees as he drew breath and looked around him. He was tired, and thirsty, but more important thoughts were running through his head. Maybe the trail wasn't there at all. Maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. When had he last seen a definite sign? A boot-print, maybe an hour ago? Or was it two. He had no way of knowing. He groaned in his frustration, but there was nothing for him to do. Going back was futile. Anna was out there; he had to move on.
But on impulse he pulled his dagger from his boot, and walking up to a large tree he scraped away at the bark till an arrow was visible in the wood. He might want those marks. He had no idea where he was going, and that forest might stretch all the way to Tethyr for all he knew.
...
Finn carried on as best he could, stopping every little while to scratch another mark in a tree. By now though he was certain he had lost the trail. There were no more signs, and the most he saw on the ground was a pile of rabbit droppings.
His jaw clenched in frustration till his teeth began to ache. Anna was out there, somewhere… And he'd lost her. That driver was right. He should have waited for the patrol. Now not only had he lost Anna, he'd lost himself. It would take him a day to get back to the road. Where would Anna be then? Gone; totally and utterly gone.
But at least he was going downhill now. The sun was slanting westward; evening was coming. A little further. What did it matter anymore? Maybe he would pick up the trail again. Maybe.
The trees were thinning the further along he went. Perhaps he was finally coming out of the forest. Ahead of him was a sharp drop, the site of an old rockslide. Finn paused at the edge. Through the gap in the trees he could see open land. More than that; it was farmland. He saw furrowed rows of yellow grain stretching away on the horizon.
Help…he could get help.
Finn scrambled down the steep slope, sending rocks and pebbles flying down with him in a little avalanche. He didn't bother to make any more marks. The farm he saw was some distance away, but he could make it there before dark.
The ground levelled out at last, and Finn cleared the few remaining trees in a run. A stone wall barred his way but he leaped over it like a deer. On the other side was a wide pasture, and he could see sheep browsing in the distance.
More than that, he saw a rider. A figure on horseback. Finn called out to him, hailing the rider with all the strength his lungs possessed. The rider noticed him, and turned his mount.
The bay mare galloped forward on light hooves, coming to a cautious halt a stone's throw away. That was no old farmer, but a young woman.
She was dressed in a peasant's garb, though if Finn knew anything about horses she rode a fine one indeed. No farmer's nag was this; it was a noble-looking beast, and seemed to toss her black mane in a dismissive way as she gazed upon the dirt-encrusted man who stood before them.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the young woman demanded, regarding Finn warily.
"I need help," Finn told her. "I've been chasing a group of bandits through the woods…they ambushed our caravan, and they've taken my wife prisoner. I need to find them!"
The young woman's eyes widened.
"Bandits? Here? But the tradeway is miles to the north…how far have you come?"
"I don't know. I've been walking for hours," Finn said breathlessly. "Please…I need help. If there's a patrol, or…"
"Never mind," the young woman interrupted him. "Catch hold of the stirrup, and hold on tight!"
Finn barely had time to do as she commanded. He seized hold of the saddle and the horse broke away into a quick trot towards the settlement. Finn bounded along next to the horse, thankful that his legs were long. He glanced up once at the girl; her eyes were firm and set, and the plain kerchief she wore didn't entirely cover her bright red hair.
At last they reached the farm. The girl rode straight up to the cottage, and let out a shout.
"Dillard!" she cried out, and the door to the cottage swung open. A surprised-looking farmer peered out, surrounded on both sides by curious children.
"Chauntea's girdle!" the man exclaimed. "What is happening?"
"I need you to saddle up another mount. This man is coming to the house with me. And quickly!" the woman informed him.
"Yes'm," the man replied, apparently too surprised for argument. Finn stood in silence, catching his breath while the farmer's children gawped at him. Soon though the farmer appeared from behind the stable, leading a saddled horse.
"Hurry up," the young woman said to Finn. "You can ride, can't you?"
"One way to find out," Finn replied.
Somehow he managed to get a hold of that slippery saddle, and found himself astride the horse. The woman set her mount off at a gallop, and his horse sped off after them with no encouragement from Finn. It was all he could do to hold on to the creature's reins, and he desperately hoped the beast knew how to stop on its own.
Where she was leading him, he had no idea. They found a narrow cart-track and followed it along past several other farms. Their horses' hooves pounded the hard ground as the sun sank lower in the sky.
Ahead of them was another great stand of trees. Fluttering beyond Finn could see the colours of pennants against the sky. Was there a tower? A keep would mean guards. Finn urged his mount onwards, but as they neared the edge of the trees the woman reined in her horse and came to a halt.
"I must leave you here," she told him. "Ride up to the drawbridge and tell the guards of your plight. Beg the aid of Lord de'Arnise! But please, say nothing of me. Farewell!"
She raised a hand to him and was gone again, whirling that fine mare and rushing off in another direction. Finn stared after her in surprise, but only for a moment. He urged his own horse on, out of the trees and up to the drawbridge of the great walled keep.
...
"Tell Lord de'Arnise what you have told me," the captain said to Finn. "And be quick about it!"
"Peace, Arat… The man has clearly been through a great ordeal. Let him speak when he is ready."
Finn's gaze flitted between the brusque guard captain and the nobleman. Somehow he had managed to gain entrance to the keep, telling his tale to anyone who would listen. The guard captain seemed sceptical, but apparently deemed it enough of a concern to grant Finn an audience with the lord of the castle.
"Like I told your captain… We were on the road to Crimmor. Our caravan was hit in the night. A band of orcs and men…near a dozen of them. We fought, but… I got knocked out. When I woke up, the bandits were gone, and so was my wife. I followed them south through the woods, but the trail went cold. And then I found myself here."
"That is grave news indeed," Lord de'Arnise replied. "Arat, have the patrols reported any sign of bandits on our borders?"
He stroked his short, greying red beard thoughtfully. The lord was a slight man next to his well-armoured captain, but Arat still spoke to him with a deference that seemed to come from more than his rank.
"None, my lord," Arat replied. "If they had, I would not keep such a report from you. The guard confronted a rabble group of mercenaries on the road near the Halsand estate, but they were dealt with. That was a month ago now."
"I know you would not neglect your duty, friend," the nobleman replied, still addressing the captain in those quiet tones. "But if such criminals are on the move, it may be wise to increase the patrols along the hills. Speak to the tenants in that area. There may be signs we have missed."
"Yes, my lord," the captain replied stiffly.
In spite of his deference, Finn could see his eyes flashing at the suggestion. Men such as that captain never liked to be told how to do their job.
"And tomorrow, we will send a patrol out in to the hills to see if these bandits may be found. Such villains have no place lurking about on our borders," the lord said.
"My lord, with respect… Is that not a job for the army? We have few enough men here to guard the estate…"
"We have men enough," Lord de'Arnise replied, holding up a hand to interrupt his captain. "What threatens our borders threatens our own safety. The outlying farms are exposed and vulnerable. I shall not risk them on the vain hope the army will take action."
"Yes, my lord," the captain said again.
"Thank you, Arat. You may see to the preparations now."
"And for this man, my lord?" the captain said, eyeing Finn.
"We shall give him shelter tonight, and tomorrow he will accompany your patrol. Cold or not, I am certain your tracking skills will not fail to find their trail."
Captain Arat could have little to say to that. He bowed stiffly, and departed the chamber.
Lord de'Arnise sighed, and turned to Finn with a grave smile.
"I do hope Captain Arat did not trouble you unduly," he said. "He has served as my captain for nigh on twenty years, and never was there a finer fighting man than him. But tact has never been his strong suit."
"No, sir. He was only doing his job."
Finn bowed somewhat awkwardly. He had few dealings with the nobility, and fewer still where he might actually show deference to one of them, but something about that fellow made him seem worthy of respect. Not least because he actually seemed inclined to provide help to the lowly peasant who had stumbled into his home.
"And he will do it well, have no fear of that. Are you suffering from injury? There is a goodly priestess in the barracks who will aid you."
His eyes ran over Finn's stained and dirty clothes, a far cry from the rich velvet that graced his own form. But Finn only sighed.
"No, sir. Thank you, but I'm not hurt. Just…tired."
Lord de'Arnise smiled that grave smile again.
"I served in the army myself, young man. I know that look well. You are a fighting man yourself, I believe? But do not ignore your injuries for the sake of your anxiety. Pray tonight that you may be reunited with your wife. And tomorrow, you will ride out with my men. By Tyr's blessing, you will find her again."
...
Finn smiled a little himself, but he didn't reply. Lord de'Arnise crossed the room to where a narrow strip of tapestry hung down from the ceiling. He pulled on it, and almost immediately the chamber doors drew open. But no servant stood there, and Finn gaped in surprise.
It was the young woman who he had met in the fields. Instead of her peasant's garb she was now dressed in a gown of azure silk. She floated into the room, delicately lifting her long skirts just enough that she didn't trip on them. She didn't look at Finn, but curtseyed to the lord.
"Good evening, Father," she said demurely.
"Good evening, Nalia," the lord sighed. Somehow he did not look entirely surprised by her entrance.
"I overheard a servant saying there has been a disturbance," she continued. "Some issue with bandits? Is it true?"
"Yes, but it is no concern of yours," the lord said quickly. "Let Arat and his men deal with it."
"Of course, Father," Nalia replied. "It is frightening, that is all."
Lord de'Arnise smiled on the young woman, now revealed to be his daughter. Finn was surprised, but somehow not. He'd seen more than one noblewoman being somewhere she shouldn't, and riding a horse round a farmer's field was pretty minor in comparison to the goings-on at the Copper Coronet. But she glanced at Finn awkwardly, clearly wondering how much he'd said.
"And this is the man who related the news?" she asked, speaking of Finn for the first time.
"As you would well know, considering it was you who guided him to the keep," Lord de'Arnise said archly. "I was on the ramparts, Nalia."
The young woman's pale complexion flushed red enough to match her hair. But the lord only drew in a deep breath.
"Worry yourself not," he told her. "You did well to guide him here. But you know well enough that your aunt does not like you riding alone. And wise she may be, if there are indeed bandits lurking on our borders. Be thankful that it was I who saw you, and not her! But that is a conversation for another time."
"Yes, Father, forgive me," Nalia replied. "But is this man staying with us tonight? I could escort him to the servants' quarters…"
"No indeed, you will not. That is why we have servants," Lord de'Arnise said. "I say again…leave this, Nalia. The guard will deal with it."
"Yes, Father," the young woman said. She bowed her head but squirmed rather uncomfortably under the lord's gaze.
At that moment the doors drew open again. No one knocked in that place, it seemed. A grim-looking manservant in a stiff jacket listened in silence to Lord de'Arnise's commands. Finn followed the man out of the chamber, leaving the lord and his daughter behind him.
...
The keep was a mighty place, built solid and squat as a crouching dwarf. Very little natural light penetrated the stone halls, which were smoky from the light of torches. The servant led Finn down numerous passageways and stairs, and down the stairs again to the ground floor.
The upper chambers were luxurious, if dark, but no such luxury was to be found here. The arches in the ceiling were so low Finn's head nearly grazed the stone, and he walked stooped over a little in spite of himself.
Here must be the kitchens. Finn could smell food, the smoky scent of roasting game. A number of servants sat around a long wooden table, talking and laughing together. They fell silent though seeing Finn. A matron rose up.
"This the one Arat mentioned?" she asked the manservant.
"That he is, Wenda. The lord says to feed him and house him," the servant told her.
"Well enough. Come and sit down, young fellow. You look like death. Plenty of food we have here."
Finn smiled a little at the welcome. He sat as directed, and made short work of the food that was set in front of him. There was roast meat, and pottage, and some good ale for a change. He ate largely in silence though, trying to ignore the questions that were flying around the table.
"Bandits! May the gods preserve us," one man said. "Never known them to be round here."
"You're young, that's why," a greybeard told him. "Weren't so long ago you didn't dare take the Athkatla road without a full armed guard. But things are getting bad again, it seems."
"Still, they never bothered the estate," the matron said. "Worst I ever heard of was some sheep-rustling. And there's no proof, of course, but I said over and over it was them from Elmwoods. Wouldn't trust none of them as far as I could throw old Barney here."
"That's pretty far then, I reckon!" another servant laughed.
There was merriment even amongst their concern. But a bell rang from somewhere, and the servants rose up as one from the table.
"Time to start serving the lord's dinner," the matron told Finn. "You can finish yourself up there. When you're ready, give a holler and someone will show you to a bed."
She smiled companionably at Finn, and he couldn't help but smile back. What a change it made to be surrounded by decent folk for once. Living at the Coronet he'd be forgiven for thinking they didn't exist.
Whatever the woman said though, Finn began to feel in the way as he watched the servants scurrying about. He managed to collar a manservant long enough to ask where he'd be bunking that night. The man hurriedly showed him to a long, windowless room lined with beds.
"No one sleeps in the last bed," he told Finn. "I see Wenda has already put a few blankets down for ye."
Finn thanked the man and went to sit on the crackling straw mattress. No luxury was this, but it was clean. Again he felt a fluttering of appreciation. These people didn't know one damn thing about him, but they were willing to believe his story, and put him up for the night. He could have been a bandit himself for all they knew, come to slit their throats in the night. Maybe they were too trusting. Or maybe he'd just been surrounded by bastards for long enough that he didn't know what trust actually meant.
For now though, he was exhausted. He lay down onto the wool blankets and was quickly asleep.
...
Finn's eyes flashed open. He had no idea where he was. It was dark, but for a single candle that hovered over his bed. He sat up quickly, instinctively reaching for the blade that slept at his side. But he was stilled out of his shock by a familiar voice.
"Please! It's only me."
Finn gasped, breathing hard as he stared at the illuminated form of the lord's daughter.
"What is it?" he managed to say.
The keep, he was in the keep. Was it morning? With those stone walls there was no way to tell.
"Nothing. Please…it's all right. I didn't mean to startle you," Nalia said in a whisper. "And I apologise for waking you. I just wanted to talk."
"Talk about what?" Finn groaned. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair.
"Not here. Will you follow me?"
Finn was still confused, but he did as asked. He drew on his boots and followed her quietly past the sleeping servants, out of the chamber.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"After midnight," Nalia told him. "I'm sorry again for waking you. I'm certain you need your rest… But I wanted to hear your story myself. Father will tell me nothing, of course, and one only ever finds gossip in the servants' quarters."
"And it couldn't wait until morning?" Finn found himself saying.
Now that he was on his feet and the shock of being woken had died down, he was feeling rather annoyed. Tired, and annoyed.
"I am sorry," she insisted. "But this is the only time we can speak. I won't keep you too long, I promise."
She led them back towards the kitchens. They were empty now, without a soul around but a grey cat that flitted past like a shadow. Nalia gestured for Finn to sit at the table, which he did with a yawn.
"Not sure what you want to know," he said. "It's all pretty brief. Bandits attack…fight…get lost…you know the rest."
"Yes, quite," she replied. "But one of the servants said there were orcs in that band. Is it true?"
"Aye."
"And the rest were men?"
"Aye," Finn agreed.
He really did not see the point of this conversation. It was only the recollection of the lord's favour that kept him polite.
"How many, would you say?"
Finn shrugged. "I don't know. Didn't see everything. Four orcs? Not counting the ones I did in. Men…six? I don't know. Does it matter?"
"It does, yes…for I am riding out with you tomorrow."
That did get his attention.
"You ride out with the guard?" he asked.
It seemed surprising, considering how protective her father had been. Nalia's mouth twisted up a little.
"Occasionally. I am as good a rider as any of them…better, I should say. And my archery skills are second to none. But…"
"But…"
"They will not know I am riding out with them, of course."
Finn looked at her incredulously.
"You're sneaking out? I don't think that Arat is thick enough to be fooled by an extra hand in his ranks."
"Certainly not!" she exclaimed. "Which is why father's command that Arat take the guard personally has been an issue. The other guardsmen I can…cajole…but not Captain Arat. He's too much of father's friend. But with your help, he shall not even know I am there."
"My help?" Finn said, holding up his hands. "Now, hang on…"
But his words died in his throat, as the young woman across the table from him suddenly disappeared into thin air.
"What…" he began, but before he could wonder she was back again.
"Isn't that clever?" she said, grinning impishly. "A ring of invisibility. I…came across this some time ago. It has come in handy time and again."
"But…why?" Finn asked. "Why are you so keen to come along? You don't want to get mixed up in a band of orcs, do you?"
"Please don't think I'm so eager for battle. But if I were a man, my presence would almost certainly be assured. But since I am not, my father has insisted my roles here should involve the domestic only. He is a good man, but his thinking is somewhat…limited in many ways."
"Can't say I blame him," Finn remarked. "I wouldn't want my daughter chasing after a bunch of brigands, either."
Nalia frowned. "Your chivalry is noteworthy. But the fact of the matter is, I have no brothers. Or sisters, for that matter. Could I be expected to just sit here with my embroidery if we were to come under attack? Yet my father insists I should only see one side of duty."
"Plenty of women take up the sword," Finn remarked. "But if you're his only child, maybe he just wants to make sure there's someone actually left to inherit. You've got guards. I agree with your dad...let them deal with it."
He wasn't sure why he was arguing the point. He still wasn't entirely sure what she even wanted him for. But Nalia just sighed sharply.
"Regardless, you can still help me. Tomorrow when you ride out, I'll be in the stables. Climb on your mount, and hold it steady. I will ride behind you. None need even know I am there. And you may well want me at your back."
Finn groaned. He was too tired to even begin to argue with the lord's daughter.
"Fine," he said. "But if you fall off, I'm leaving you there."
"Fair enough," the woman replied.
Finn groaned again as he stifled a yawn. There was something very familiar in the way those eyes twinkled at him, and he knew trouble when he saw it.
...
Anna stared into the green forest, trying to fight off the tears. That morning drifted by impossibly slow. She listened to the sound of men and orcs talking, jumping at every raised voice or harsh cry of laughter. But thankfully the bandits left them in peace.
She glanced at Aerie. She was swaying slightly, her eyes shut tight, her pale lips moving in some silent prayer. Taneela sat rigidly, her own mouth set in a tight line. The others all sat quietly for the most part, but Anna could hear some murmurs. No doubt they were all thinking the same as her: somehow, they needed to escape. Maybe one of them had a plan. She certainly didn't.
Anna shut her eyes. It was cool in the shade of the trees, but she still felt hot. She felt sick. She found herself praying it would rain, so that she could get a little water to ease her parched throat.
Eventually the camp grew quiet, and she assumed the bandits were sleeping. Not all were, though; a guard still had them in his sight all day long. But the shadows grew longer between the trees, and she could hear the sound of the leader calling them awake.
"It's feeding time, pets," the leader said, striding up to the group of hostages at last. "A little wine to keep you on your feet. Apologies for the meagre fare, but don't worry. You can have some bread as well, as soon as we make camp!"
He laughed to himself, and offered each of the prisoners a swallow from the wineskin he carried. Anna slurped hers quickly, feeling the warm wine burning her throat. She had no more than two swallows before the bandit moved on to Aerie.
But the girl refused anything to drink. The bandit clucked at her.
"Come now, my little pearl. We have a long march ahead. I trust you don't want an orc carrying you the entire way, do you?"
"Drink, Aerie," Anna said to her.
But the girl just shook her head, her lips set firm like a child's.
"Suit yourself, then," the bandit said. "But if you drop dead on the march, these orcs will eat you for supper!"
He laughed again and moved on. Anna wasn't entirely sure he was joking.
As the moon rose over the trees the bandits were on the move again. Anna was so stiff and exhausted that she could barely walk. Where were they going? Their leader had mentioned a camp. Were there more bandits in the woods? She thought somehow of the ogre Tazok, and the bandit town he had built in the middle of the wilderness.
That march was too long, too long. Through the long hours of darkness they marched endlessly over ever-rougher terrain. Anna didn't know how much longer she could stay upright. She stumbled along, her eyes on the darkened forest floor. Exhaustion and pain had entirely taken over. She was dreaming on her feet now.
Her friends were coming for her, she knew it. She could see their faces. Jaheira, Minsc… Xan… Jaheira said he was in the city. The enchanter was out there, somewhere, looking for her. She could hear him calling, but she couldn't tell him where she was. She didn't know. Her bruised feet were floating now.
Suddenly the entire world shook, wrenching her from her dream with a hideous blow. Anna moaned, finding herself lying face-first in the undergrowth with a mouthful of dirt.
"Get up!" an orc growled, roughly dragging her back to her feet. Anna spat out the dirt as best she could, trying to force herself awake. It was a dream, only a dream. No one was looking for her. No one even knew she was in trouble. Finn…he was dead. He must be dead. She and the other prisoners were entirely on their own.
But at last that endless march ceased. They came across a small hill that was split in the middle as if by a giant axe. Two jagged rock faces stood near together, forming a gap. Anna stumbled down into that hole, praying she wouldn't go tumbling head over heels. But they made it to the bottom, and thankfully the bandits had them sit once more.
This must be the camp, she thought as a fire sprang up. A good place for it, well-sheltered from the forest above. There was even water there. A small spring flowed out of a crack in the rocks, escaping from some hidden cave. But there was little thought of comfort for her. She leaned back against a rock and was soon fast asleep.
...
Anna slept like the dead, but she found herself jerked back to the world of the living. In her dreams she was hit by a cold, wet slap and woke up, sputtering, staring at an orc that stood over her with a pail of ice cold water.
"Wakey, wakey!" the orc laughed. "Ulvax says to give yous water. So yous gets water!"
The orc bellowed in furious laughter; there was little more miserable than an orc in high spirits. But his merriment was brought to an abrupt end by the bandit leader striding up behind him.
"Idiot!" the man exclaimed, striking the orc hard with a truncheon. "Have you taken leave of what little sense you have? I have no fancy to be looking over a band of sopping wet prisoners! Get back to the others, or I will drown you in that bucket!"
He struck the orc over and over again, fearless in the terrifying sight of the creature's baleful gaze. Anna sat, dripping and breathless, waiting for the orc to take his blows in return. But the creature merely growled something under his breath and shuffled away.
"I swear to the gods, if they were not cheap muscle…" the man muttered. "Never mind. You are cleaner, now, I suppose. On your feet. All of you."
The prisoners did as commanded. It was daylight now, though the crack in the ground was well-shaded. One by one the bandit leader began examining them thoroughly, looking them over like a prospective farmer buying a mule.
"Yet another middle-aged driver," the man sighed, after examining several of the men. "Soft muscles. Not much use for anything. Might make a job lot of you. Woman, not much better. Rough as a dog's arse."
He regarded Taneela idly, and the woman suddenly spat in his face.
"I'm too damn good for you, I'll have you know," she growled.
Anna flinched out of the way as the man whipped her with his truncheon.
"Coin doesn't lie," he told her, wiping the spit off his face. "I'd be lucky if I could get two coppers for you. Get more money from an old saddle bag, I would."
Taneela groaned from the blow and leaned back against the rock wall, but her pained eyes were still blazing.
He came now to Anna. She met the man's gaze for a moment, then looked away. He was strange for a bandit; though his clothes were rent and dirty as the rest of them, he seemed to have an almost noble air about him. His hair and eyes were brown, and his face had a refinement to it. An educated gentleman, though she was hardly inclined to think of him as such at that moment.
"This is a bit more promising, at least," he said. "Young enough. Pretty face…a shame about those scars. Tell me, girl…can you do anything useful, or are you just decorative?"
Anna could hardly breathe. The man's hands were sliding up the sleeves of her torn dress, regarding the scars that travelled up her arms. She could feel his breath on her throat.
"I'm…I'm a…an apothecary."
She could never tell him she was a mage. Her only hope was that she somehow might get free of her manacles long enough to cast a spell. But the bandit was no fool, and he'd never let her loose if he knew the truth.
"Don't strain yourself in thinking," he laughed, sensing her hesitation. "Now, for my prize. What a pretty little elf you are!" he said, turning his attention to Aerie. "Like a summer's breeze made flesh. Are you a virgin?"
He spoke that question so lightly it made Anna's stomach turn. But silent Aerie lashed out at him.
"Get away from me! Get away from me!" she shrieked like an animal, shaking her head to drive the man's hand away from her face.
"Oh, now, poppet," he began. "If you won't tell me, I can always find out."
"She is," Anna spoke. "Just leave her alone!"
She had no idea of the truth, but the way that man was looking at Aerie made her sick. If she could cast a spell Anna would gladly have burned him alive. It wasn't just the menace in his questions, but the utterly casual way he spoke them. They were nothing but flesh to him.
"She's a friend of yours, then?" the bandit leader said, turning to her. "And what about you, my dear? Tell me…it might increase your price just a bit. Make up for all that scarred flesh."
"I am not," Anna replied, suddenly feeling her own blaze of heat. "You killed my husband!"
But the man just laughed in the face of her anguish.
"And who was he, then? Let me guess…that tall fellow. A pity we couldn't bring him along. I have a contact in Athkatla that pays well for fighting men. But he has no one to blame but himself if his guts are on the ground."
"You…bastard!"
Whether by exhaustion or nerves Anna had lost all ability to keep her head. She was shaking; every last part of her was shaking. The bandit grabbed her face hard and shoved her back into the rock wall.
"Keep your tongue, girl…" he hissed. "An uppity lot, you are. But not one of you is worth so much that I wouldn't leave you bleeding here. You need a little lesson?"
He seized Anna by the neck and threw her down onto the ground. With her hands behind her back she had no way of breaking her fall. Anna let out a sob as the wind left her, but she heard Taneela's voice.
"Leave the girls alone!" she bellowed. "You want action, then I'll have you. I'll ride you like a Tethyrian war horse! Give you a time to remember, you can bet that!"
Anna turned somehow to look over her shoulder. Taneela's face was square and hard and she glared at the man with a spark of fire. The bandit looked at her, then his angry face melted into laughter.
"You are a proper matron!" he snorted. "But I will decline your offer. I have my limits, such as they are. But you, girl…you're coming with me."
"No," Anna gasped, feeling the man's hands on her shoulders. She had no strength to resist him as he dragged her up and pulled her off towards a nearby tent.
...
"Oh, cool yourself down, you cat!" the bandit leader said, dumping her onto the bare earth floor of his tent.
She struggled with every bit of strength she had, but it was hopeless. She screamed and choked, even launching a kick that stood no chance of reaching him. Anything to keep that man away from her, if only for a moment more.
How could he just be so…indifferent? Apart from momentary flashes of anger, that man could have been relaxing in a club. He didn't care. He didn't care about any of them.
Anna watched him taking off his stained leather jacket, then she shut her eyes hard. She prayed to the mother Chauntea for help, to any god for help…anyone, let anyone hear her. She let out a quiet, desperate sob as she felt the man come and stand over her.
"You can open your eyes now," he said to her.
Somehow she did. He was standing over her in his tunic and trousers, a wry smile on his face.
"Don't touch me," Anna said hoarsely.
"Don't tempt me," the man replied. "But we're not here for quite what you think. You said you were an apothecary. Is that true?"
Anna stared at him.
"Yes," she said.
It was true enough. She might have told him she was an alchemist, but she wanted nothing that suspected her of magical inclination. Apothecaries however were generally mundane.
"Another stroke of luck," the man replied. "Not always the easiest to find help out in the wilds. One of the downsides of this profession, you understand. I generally have a good stock of potions at hand, but my supply has run out. You can be of some use."
Anna bit her lip.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
In answer the man drew down his trousers. Anna looked away, but thankfully his affliction had nothing to do with his private area. His left thigh was wrapped tightly in a bandage. Even before he began unravelling the linen wraps she could see the bloody seepage.
"I took a hit some days ago," the man told her. "Sword wound. We had the misfortune of coming across a patrol…but the misfortune was more theirs, as it happens. I stitched it closed myself, but it has become infected. It is hurting badly now."
Anna winced a little at the sight of the weeping gash in the man's leg.
"You should…clear away the pus, and rinse the wound well. A decoction of oak bark would help," she told him. "Then apply a poultice. Do you have any herbs?"
"No," the bandit said, frowning. "We have been a long time out on this trip."
Anna sighed. "If there is water nearby, you may find comfrey or marsh mallow growing. I don't suppose you have any garlic?"
Her time spent in the wilds, aided by Jaheira's encyclopaedic knowledge of plants, had taught her more than her alchemy books ever did on the subject. Keeping wounds from turning foul had been a part of her life that she'd hoped to put firmly behind her.
"I do, as it happens. I have a few remnants of civilised living here," he told her.
"Mash that into a paste, then," Anna said. "It will help."
"Fair enough," the man replied. "But you will do that for me later."
He wrapped his leg with fresh bandages, and thankfully restored his trousers once more.
"On your feet then, girl," he said. "We are going on a little walk through the woods! I know little about wild plants, and these orcs can't tell a herb from a herbivore."
"I'll help you," Anna said slowly. "But please…I need my hands free."
He could hardly expect her to help while she was bound, but throwing in a doe-eyed plea couldn't hurt. Now that she was calmer, she could hardly believe her luck.
The man gave her a look. "Of course. But in case you even think of running off…I'll throw that little elf friend of yours to the orcs. And don't think either about trying to poison me with some foul herbs. If I keel over dead, there won't be anyone stopping those beasts getting their hands on you."
Anna only nodded. The man took the key from his belt, and thankfully she felt the manacles slipping off her wrists.
...
The bandit gathered up a sack, a hatchet, and an uncomfortably large knife, and together they left the tent. Anna spared a glance at the other prisoners. Aerie noticed her too, and gave Anna a stricken look. For her part Anna tried to smile. A plan was beginning to form in her mind.
He forced Anna to walk in front of him as they made their way into the trees. It would be better to wait until nightfall, but she could get a start now.
"Do you have a name?" Anna asked, turning her head slightly to look at the man.
"Does it matter?" he sneered.
"It does," she said. "I don't know what to call you."
"I'm sure you could think of several names," the man replied. "But if it matters that much, you can call me Ulvax."
"Ulvax," Anna repeated. "Is that a first name, or a family name?"
"You're a nosy sort," the man said. "Thinking to add me to your social circle? But I take it you're not from Amn, if that name means nothing to you. Very well, then… I am Ranvel Ulvax, formerly of Esmeltaran."
"I'm from the north," she explained. "I know little of Amnish families. Are you wealthy?"
Ranvel just laughed. "I'm getting there. But, alas, I was raised in a state of genteel poverty. The Ulvax family was once one of the wealthiest in Amn. But we were involved in a spice war, you see…a literal war, in this case. And we were the losers. We have been living on greatly diminished terms ever since."
"I see."
So her instincts about that man were correct.
"I thought you seemed like a gentleman," Anna told him. But Ranvel just burst into laughter again.
"Oh, did you now! I'm certain that is just what was on your mind. But just in case you have any illusions… I am no gentleman highwayman. I have no honour left, and no desire to reclaim any. Now, be quiet."
Anna did as she was told. She had found a suitable oak tree, regardless. It wasn't the first one they had passed, but she wanted a chance to speak with him. Perhaps if she seemed chatty it might get his defences down.
She took up his hatchet, and Ulvax watched from a safe distance as she hacked away at the bark of the poor tree. When she had gathered enough Anna stowed it in the sack, and they went off again in search of more herbs.
"The land down here is marshy," Ulvax said after a time. "Damnable for midges. We may find what you're looking for."
Anna noticed now that he was limping. It would take very little for her to turn on that man…so far from the camp, no one would hear a sound. Whatever fear she had of the Cowled Wizards was long gone. If they did appear, at least they could give those bandits what they deserved.
But even with her spells she had little chance of taking out all those bandits in an open fight. And she could hardly launch a fireball into the camp with the prisoners there, as well. She needed to be careful. She needed to keep her resolve.
"They are easy to identify by their flowers," she told him instead.
"I may have to keep this in mind," he replied. "Such things can be invaluable."
"I'm surprised you don't know already, given your…occupation," Anna remarked.
"Well…until recently we had a cleric in our little group. A rather foul sort of person, but he was useful. Unfortunately we had a disagreement about payment. He isn't in our group any more."
Anna said nothing. By chance she happened to find comfrey growing, and set about digging up the plant by its roots. But she could find no marsh mallow, nor anything else that served her present needs. After some time Ranvel called for her to stop.
"We've gone far enough," he said. "Starting to get late. We don't want to be out here after dark."
"Is it dangerous in the woods?" she asked him, rather wide-eyed.
"You seem to be familiar enough with it. You tell me," he remarked. "At any rate, it's no more dangerous than a camp full of orcs."
"They are such brutes," she shuddered. "Why do you keep them?"
"I'd say you just answered your own question," the man laughed in her ear.
Anna shuddered for real at having him so near, but reminded herself to keep calm. She smiled at him a little, then looked at the ground.
...
They were quiet most of the way back to the camp. But as they grew closer, Anna spoke again.
"I'll get a start preparing these herbs," she said. "But it would be helpful if the elven girl could assist me. It would get the job done much quicker."
Another bold-faced lie. But Aerie had shown herself to be a cleric during the fight…together, they might combine their efforts. First though she needed to get the elven girl free, and in a place where they could talk.
"I see," Ranvel said, casually. "Is she an apothecary, too?"
"Yes…" Anna said. "I have just taken her on as my assistant."
"Ah. You never did say where you worked. Do you have a shop in Athkatla?" he asked.
Anna sensed something in that question. She didn't turn around, but only shrugged.
"No. I'm from Beregost. We were only in Athkatla for business," she said briskly.
The bandit said nothing else, and whether her statement pleased him or not she wasn't sure. At any rate, he was silent until they reached the camp.
The shadows were long through the trees by that time. But much to her relief, Ranvel agreed to her request to free Aerie. The girl still looked wide-eyed and pale, but thankfully she seemed to have been spared any harsh treatment during their absence. Ranvel pushed her over to where Anna waited by the campfire.
"Here's your apprentice," he whistled. "Now get to work."
"It…would be better if we could work in the tent," Anna said. "Not so…crowded."
The orcs and other bandits milling around didn't exactly make her comfortable, much less considering what she needed to do. But Ranvel only shook his head.
"I don't think so. You'll stay right where I can see you."
Anna sighed, but she had little choice but to agree. Aerie sat down next to her, and Anna spoke to her levelly.
"I will strip this bark, you can macerate these roots."
"Wh…what?" Aerie stammered.
"You know what to do," Anna said, a little louder. "Wash them well, then grind them between these two stones. That will bring the juices out."
Aerie nodded her head. She set about the task rather clumsily, and Anna hoped that Ulvax didn't notice. But he looked busy now eating his supper.
The scent of food made her empty stomach growl, but Anna forced herself to focus on the job at hand. She hacked lightly at the strips of oak bark, freeing the soft bark within. As she worked, she drew a deep breath and spoke casually.
"The white oak is ideal for cleaning wounds. Lye usinuva. All parts of the tree can be used…leaves, acorns, and roots. Lye istuva. But the inner bark is the best."
She punctuated her lecture with Elvish…we will escape, we will cast spells. Aerie glanced at her, but didn't react, focused on her work. Somehow Anna wasn't sure the message had been received. Did the girl hear her? She tried again.
"Comfrey, as you know, is one of the most useful healing herbs. The healers' manuals call it knit-bone… You will use it time and again. Amin istar. Lle rangwe?"
Aerie looked at her once more, cocking her head like a dog that had heard a strange sound. Anna wasn't sure what to think. Was she saying it right? Her Elvish was only rudimentary at the best of times, her lessons at the college in Silverymoon a thing of the distant past. She looked up at Ranvel, still absorbed in his stew. Anna drew a breath again and spoke in a whisper.
"Aerie…I am a mage."
That finally seemed to get the girl's attention. Her big eyes went even wider, and she pursed her lips.
"I…I'm a priestess," Aerie whispered in return.
But Anna already guessed that. For her plan to work though, they needed some privacy. Better if they could communicate in Elvish, less likely anyone would hear. But suddenly Anna had an odd thought.
"Lle rangwe Quenya?"
It was an absurd question, asking an elf if they understood Elvish. In a normal situation it would probably get herself called out on a duel. It was the equivalent of a slap in the face. But Aerie just bit her lip and shook her head.
Anna bit her own lip hard. This was going to make things that much more difficult.
...
They had little time left. Soon their preparations were almost done, and she knew well enough that Ulvax would likely have them in chains again when they were finished. She had to take a chance.
"Aerie…" she whispered. "Your spells…what can you do? Could you put them to sleep, or?"
Knocking out or otherwise incapacitating a group of men and orcs was no easy prospect. And if they failed…
"I… I don't know," the girl whispered back.
Anna groaned slightly.
"There must be something…"
"How are you progressing, ladies?"
Anna nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Ranvel leaning over them. She hadn't even noticed him stand up. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, and he smiled rather wickedly at her.
"I… Nearly finished," she breathed. "Need to…steep the bark."
"Indeed. I am quite curious to see how it is done."
"There is little to see," Anna said. "The bark goes in this muslin, and steeps in boiling water like a tea. But it will need to soak for some time."
"Indeed. How very interesting."
There was nothing interesting about that, and she knew it. In terror she began to suspect he had heard their conversation. But if he had, would he not act at once? He'd be a fool to let a mage and a cleric loose on his camp. And whatever else he was, that man did not seem like a fool.
"Let me help, then," Ranvel said.
Before Anna could say anything, he went and fetched the pot of water from where she had set it over the fire. There was steam coming out of it, now fully at the boil. Anna set the bag of bark in a basin, and watched tensely as the man poured in the water. He replaced the pot and came to crouch down next to her.
"Now, we just let it steep?" he said. "Do you think the water is hot enough?"
"Yes, I am sure…"
"Let us just check, shall we?"
He suddenly seized her wrist and jammed her hand into the basin. Anna screamed feeling the boiling water blazing on her skin.
"Let go, let go!" she cried, desperate. In her struggles the basin tipped over, and Ranvel released her hand. It was red as flame, already pained with blisters.
Anna was shaking. She felt sick to her stomach. Her hand was throbbing. But before any of them could act, Aerie suddenly let out a cry.
"No, no!" she said, and laid her own hands on Anna's scalded one. She spoke an incantation, and in a flash Anna felt her hand cooling, the skin a normal colour once more. But Ranvel was only laughing.
"Yes, a priestess, I see!" he exclaimed. "A shame your Elvish didn't get far…a clever idea, really. Not that it would matter. I seem to know more of that rubbish than your friend here!"
Anna didn't have a chance to reply. In a flash he was on her, his hand covering her mouth.
She bit him, but he only struck her in return. As she cried out he pulled a dirty kerchief from somewhere and forced it into her mouth. Struggle though she did, he managed in moments to have her flat on her face.
"Stupid bitch," he muttered, giving Anna a hard cuff on the head. "You had any sense, you'd have struck when you had the chance. So you're a mage, eh? I'll have to take your word for it. When we get to Athkatla we'll sort you out. Don't worry…I'll finish this lot up by myself. For a supposed apothecary, you made a mess of that root."
"There a problem, boss?" one of the human bandits said, approaching the man.
"Not anymore. Take this wench to my tent. See to it she's well bound. And whatever you do, don't let her talk!"
...
Anna moaned as the man dragged her up gently as a sack of potatoes. But she didn't struggle. Something had happened. In the space of a few moments those men seemed to have forgotten all about Aerie's presence. From the corner of her eye Anna could see the elven girl on her feet, bathed in a subtle blue light like a ghost.
Anna didn't struggle as the bandit dumped her on the ground in Ranvel's tent. She struggled a bit, not entirely for effect, as he tied her rather harshly to the thick support post. But thankfully, the man left her alone. Moments after he left, the ghostly Aerie drifted in to the tent.
"Oh, are you all right?" she whispered, coming to kneel next to Anna.
The mage nodded, and Aerie worked to free her gag.
"What…what spell is this?" she asked the elf.
"Safety," Aerie replied. "It's like a shell…I can ask for Baervan's protection. But it doesn't last for very long. I'd almost forgotten about it. I only used it once before…there were some ruffians once, in Eshpurta…"
But Anna wasn't about to allow the girl a chance to go off into another story.
"That's good," she said, interrupting her. "But our time is running out. We need to do something, and soon. If I could get free…what else can you do?"
"I've…I've been thinking of that," Aerie whispered. "Uncle Quayle used to tell me stories…I remember one, about some travellers on the road…"
"And it will help?" Anna demanded.
"I don't know," the girl stammered. "I hope so. But I don't really know. I've never tried…it's just a feeling…"
"Fine, just…free me before Ulvax returns!"
Aerie bit her lip, and proceeded to struggle with Anna's binds. She was only bound with rope this time, but Aerie's small hands still had difficulty with the stiff knots. But at last Anna's hands came free.
"Good…good…" she gasped. "I will stay here. You…go out, while your spell still lasts. They seem to have forgotten all about you. Do what you need to do. I'll back you up! See if we can create a diversion, so the others can escape. Then we can go at them with everything we've got."
Aerie nodded, her face gone bloodlessly white again. She slipped in silence out of the tent and into the darkened forest.
...
Anna didn't have much time. She replaced her gag, loosely, so she could get it free with a shake of her head. Her hands she simply held behind her back. If Ulvax came in it would hopefully give him the impression she was still bound.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she listened for a sound from the camp. She could only hear the men talking, and the occasional harsh laughter of the orcs. Nothing seemed to be happening. What was Aerie doing? But her heart jumped into her throat as the tent flap opened, and Ranvel stepped inside.
"There you are, pet," he said. "Not too uncomfortable, I hope? I've got this mixture ready at last. Foul-smelling stuff, I hope it does the job. We shan't be in Athkatla for days yet, and losing a leg would be something of an inconvenience."
Anna held painfully still, watching the man as he smiled that wicked smile at her. Still nothing, still nothing. Had Aerie's spell failed? Or had she run away?
"Barely have a clean bandage here…" the man muttered to himself. "What a shambles! But I say…what was that?"
Anna listened. She heard nothing at all, apart from the rather excited noises of the men in the camp.
Ranvel dropped the basin and rushed out of the tent. Anna threw off her gag and rose to her feet. If that man came back in he would get a surprise. But Anna forced herself to wait for one moment more, trying to work out what Aerie had done.
"Come back, you idiots!"
She could hear Ranvel's angry bellow echo off into the trees. Anna threw herself down onto the ground once more, and squeezed under the canvas at the back of Ranvel's tent. She crouched down in the gathering dark, trying to make sense of what she saw.
Just up on the rise she could see the last of the bandits disappearing. From the cries she heard they were running, not away from something, but towards it. Anna had no idea what it was, but that wasn't her concern just then. She crept around the other side of the tent, out of view of the perplexed bandit leader.
"Oh, no you don't! Get down, the lot of you!"
Anna froze, but Ranvel's words weren't meant for her. In surprise she saw the prisoners on their feet, attempting in their bound fashion to follow the bandits out of the camp. They nearly clambered over each other in their desperation. Ranvel chased them, battering them with his truncheon, but they paid no heed.
"So…beautiful!" one of the drivers proclaimed.
"Come back! Come back!"
"By Waukeen's golden purse!" Taneela exclaimed as Anna slid up next to her.
"What happened?" Anna gasped.
Taneela was the only one still sitting down. She looked as surprised as Anna herself.
"Gods if I know," Taneela said. "This…woman just appeared up on the ridge there. All naked as you please. She started singing, and all this lot just jumped up and ran after her! Bewitched, for sure!"
"Aerie's spell," Anna replied. "But now the drivers are gone, too, and I…"
"And this is all your bloody fault, no doubt!"
Taneela didn't have time to cry out in warning before Ranvel's truncheon came down on Anna's head. She groaned and fell to her knees, feeling the world spinning out from underneath her.