And a long one to compensate for all that time without updates! Work has slowed down, so I should be able to update regularly again…
Thank you for reading! Please review :)
Chapter XIX. Dealing with the traitors
Nathyrra arranged for the secret accesses to Valen's room to be blocked and their exits guarded by people she trusted. She stood guard herself by the door, and Deekin by Chama's door. The bard's devotion to his beloved Boss made him leave even his new kobold friends to look after her. That is, when Boss wasn't watching over Goat-man.
Valen remained unconscious for a day and a half. The Seer, her acolyte and Chama took turns at sitting up with him.
It was Chama there when he awoke. She was studying a beholder phrasing that kept Gulhrys from finishing the enchantments. She was deeply concentrated on her spellcraft, sitting with a book and a scroll on her lap, when suddenly Valen grunted and brought his left fist up to rub his eye, like a child. She extended her slim spellcaster's hand and put it over his right hand, still resting by his side.
He startled and opened sleepy eyes to look at her. She rolled her fingers around his tall palm. And then he smiled, closed his eyes again and squeezed her hand back. She let go slowly, shaken by the blue of his eyes, his contented smile and his hot fingers trapping hers gently.
"I am so glad to see you alive," he whispered in relief.
"Me?", she exclaimed incredulously. "You were worrying about me? Do you know what the Seer had to do to ensure you would ever wake up again, and hear again?"
He opened his eyes again, his relieved and sleepy smile fading away. His expression slowly turned grim as the events came back to him. He tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to pause.
"Hey, go easy," she advised gently. She rearranged the pillows behind his back so he could sit.
"How long have I been out?"
"About forty hours."
"It's a miracle nothing happened to any of us in the meanwhile. Did you go check on Gulhrys?"
"I didn't dare. I heard what you said to our attackers… You recognized them, didn't you?" He nodded. "I told Nathyrra and she made sure nothing would happen to either of us. Valen… who were they?"
His eyes were fierce and harsh. "I don't know the male, but the female was the eldest cousin of Matron Myrune. She rose by the matron's will and cannot hope to be matron herself one day. She therefore is one of the few loyal allies the matron can be sure of." His eyes hardened, but did not change colour. "They have dared to plot to kill you. Are you well? You were stabbed in the liver…"
"I'm fine; the Seer healed me. Still, I think I should have told you something earlier. Right now I can't die."
He frowned. "Of course not. You've already accomplished much for us, but without your drive we won't defeat the Valsharess."
She laughed. "Thank you, Granduc, but that's not what I meant. You remember the device on my shoulder?" He nodded. "It's something I found in the Plane of Shadows. It is somehow connected to the demi-plane that you have visited briefly. As long as I keep rogue stones to feed it, it will bring me back to that demi-plane as soon as I am about to cross the threshold to death. It will also allow me to come back, either to Lith My'athar, to where I fell, or to any other location I have marked with a binding."
Valen nodded knowingly. "Ah. This demi-plane must be some type of nexus then. Either that or it hosts a gate builder of great power."
"The Reaper says it's a nexus. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that you don't need to worry about me too much."
"It is reassuring," he agreed. "But do you know the nature of this device?"
She made a face. "Not in the least. That's why I use it only in cases of emergencies. I don't like the idea that it may have a limited number of uses, or a curse that comes into action after some time, or I don't know what."
"That's probably wise. I can try to examine it, if you wish. Maybe it will remind me of something, as an outsider."
"I'd like that, but not now. We've spoken long enough already. You should try to sleep a bit more now. I'll send an acolyte or the Seer in to make sure you're alright."
He nodded silently as she headed to one of the secret passages leading out of his room. He wished he could have caught her hand again, but he had had no occasion. His hand still felt imprinted by the contact of her slim, cool fingers curling about his palm. He had thought it was a dream. But then he had realized, what a way to wake up. Doubts had forced his eyes open, however; Chama would not hold his hand, would she? But she had. His heart fluttered. Although it was just a friendly and brief squeeze, it still meant a lot to him. It meant that she cared that he was alive. It meant she considered him a friend and had forgiven him his initial lack of trust. It meant he had a chance to convince her to continue travelling with her once she defeated the Valsharess.
He smiled to himself. He didn't even bother with the "if" part anymore.
ooooo
Nathyrra, standing guard by Valen's door, stood out of the shadows and bowed when a worried Seer rushed to her.
"Where's Chamaedaphne?", the Seer asked.
"Watching over Valen… why?"
"Because she isn't. One of the pages just came to see me. She ordered him to come tell me to go check on Valen, and then she webbed him and fled."
Nathyrra's eyes went wide. She opened the door, startling Valen who fumbled under his pillow for a concealed dagger. Seeing that Chama obviously was not there, the drow cursed loudly.
"What's happening?", Valen asked, visibly exhausted merely by his frantic search for a weapon.
"Glad to see you awake. Chama's missing," Nathyrra explained succinctly.
The tiefling's eyes clouded with heavy grey. "Voluntarily or not?"
Valen struggled to pull his feet over the edge of the bed, but the Seer quickly halted him with a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you think she is gone doing, you are in no shape to aid her," she declared sternly. "Tell me, why do you wish to follow her? What do you think she is attempting?"
"Nat, close the door and make sure we are not listened to, please." The drow did so, quickly scanning the room. When she nodded to him, he went on. "She went to destitute Matron Myrune. It was her cousin who attacked us on the Lone Peak." He turned to Nathyrra and they exchanged an intense look.
"I'll get Imloth to watch your door," the assassin decided. "I'll try to catch up with her."
"Don't kill a single guard if she's not there," Valen ordered. "If she fails, it will complicate matters."
"You think she can fail?", Nathyrra exclaimed, appalled.
"Tebimar is a very capable fighter, and we saw her disastrous fight with Mekefal." He shook his head in helpless frustration. "I'm not there, Nat."
Nathyrra paled slightly, but nodded and stalked off, melting in the shadows. Valen fell back down on the bed, shutting his eyes tightly.
"Don't move, and try to calm down," the Seer soothed. "I have to divine if everything is well with you."
Valen made an effort to steady and slow his breathing, and he let the Seer tend to his healing wounds.
ooooo
"Chamaedaphne!", Gulhrys purred when the mage came into his lab. "A pleasure to see you, my lady… Have you solved our problem?"
He noticed, then, that something was wrong. Something deathly danced in Chama's step, and a terrible storm raged in her black eyes. He very carefully avoided getting in her way.
"As a matter of fact, I have. We were stating it reversely; in imperative form in the beholder tongue, the complement has to be put before the verb of action. See, like this: seretel a le menaki fer lo alcari mel."
Her words appeared, glowing, on one of the blank parchments littering Gulhrys's desk. He marvelled at the beauty of the powerful and flawless enchantment, but he did not congratulate her. She was obviously not in the mood and Gulhrys knew quite well when not to irritate a female.
Her eyes were boring into him. He lowered his head, trying not to cause her ire to fall on him exclusively. She broke the tense silence, speaking in the beholder tongue.
"Do you wish to forward your status?"
"I am always willing to forward my status, honoured female," he answered carefully, keeping his head bent. It did not appear she was offering him to become hers, although it was a possibility. He found himself dreading that possibility. He had experienced first-hand that females were acting completely differently with males and with their males. Chamaedaphne had not struck him as stormy and cruel, but if this was Chama's way to deal with her males, or would-be males, then he thought he had ample reason to fear her proposal. He had been attracted to her from the beginning because she was a proud and challenging spellcaster. He had not wanted to get involved with a moody female; he had been careful all of his life, and he would be disappointed in himself if he had been attracted to a cruel female in the end.
"Are you willing to risk your current status and your life for it?", she went on.
He lifted his eyes to her face that time. He gave her a carefully appraising regard. His ambition could smell that the plot she was about to expose did not concern at all a change in their relationship. Gone, dread and disappointment.
"We should switch to sssrathlisss if we are to discuss dangerous details. An ambassador to the beholders might be able to understand us," he explained in sssrathlisss. "What are you planning?"
She smiled grimly. Her black eyes transformed into icy pools of blackness; the sight was chilling, even to a drow. "Not much planning is involved," she sneered. "I am leaving in a few minutes, without further plan, to put your highest female – your mother – I dare not say her name here – to put her out of politics. I have a feeling she won't be reasonable, so I expect trouble. Will you come with me? I am certain her heir would be very grateful to you…"
"Such actions are dangerous for a male. The heir's rewards are not guaranteed."
"I told you that you had to risk your life and status. I thought you were daring and ambitious; should I change my mind to cowardly and meek?"
Gulhrys took a breath, lifting his chin and pulling himself up to his full height.
"I am neither cowardly nor meek!"
"Then act accordingly, male," she snarled. "Take me to the highest female."
The High Wizard took his staff and stormed out of his lab, the darthiir in his step.
ooooo
A few minutes later, Chama exited the Mae'viir tower by the main door, followed by a billowing cloud of dark smoke. She crossed Lith My'athar with heavy feet, heavy heart and grim face. The temple's doors were still secured and guarded by two of Imloth's captains. They opened the doors when she came nearer, though, and she strode in.
Nathyrra, no doubt alarmed by the sound of the opening doors, suddenly melted out of the shadows.
"Chama! Where in the Nine Hells have you been?"
"Where do you think? Have you spoken with Valen?"
The drow nodded, her grim expression indicating that she had indeed guessed where she had gone.
"So… what happened?"
"Neither Matron Myrune nor Tebimar will betray us again," Chama stated. "You can open up the temple again. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
The Seer suddenly appeared from behind the stairway, where a quick access to Valen's room was hidden.
"Chama, you are injured!"
"Don't heal it," the elf snapped, batting the Seer's hands away from the bloody gash on her shoulder. "You shouldn't have to heal murderers. It's a wonder the geas won't keep me from doing that."
The Seer admonished herself for being so slow at catching Chama's mood. She put a hand carefully on the other arm of the elf to keep her from storming off.
"Wait, Chamaedaphne. You are not a common murderer."
The elf let out a strangling sound, and then cleared her throat. "I certainly hope no such thing as a common murderer exists."
"I mean that you are not someone who kills out of cruelty. You only do what you must. Would you call Valen a murderer?"
"No!", Chama exclaimed. "That's not…"
"Yet he has killed many more than you in his life."
The Seer fought hard to keep her ground faced with Chama's furious black eyes.
"You don't know how many I have killed in my life. Don't dare to think you know my past just because your goddess shows you glimpses of the future when she feels like it."
At that the Seer had to take a breath to control her anger. The Seer's anger disturbed Nathyrra; she had never seen her losing her temper before.
"Do not blame my goddess for the failings of her servant, Chamaedaphne. I will not tolerate this blasphemy." The iron in the Seer's voice was formidable.
But Chama's will was no less formidable. "Fine. I should have said: don't dare to think you know my past just because your goddess shows you incomplete glimpses of the future at confusing times."
"I do not like your tone, but there is more important to consider at the moment," the Seer declared, her voice dripping with poison. Any Matron Mother would have been proud to be able to produce such a voice. Suddenly, though, the formidable Matron Mother that the Seer could have been faded back to the kind-hearted drow that everyone in Lith My'athar followed. "Something stirs in you when you speak of the geas. What does the geas have to do with you dealing with known traitors who have tried to assassinate Valen and you?"
Chama suddenly startled, her anger visibly dissipating, and she blinked, turning away.
"Leave me be," she said, pulling on her arm.
The Seer tightened her grip slightly. "Answer me," she ordered.
Chama's temper flared again. "Let go of me!" Her free hand started to glow with yellow flames.
"Answer me," the Seer repeated sternly, unimpressed.
"It has nothing to do with it! Nothing!"
"At least you are telling the truth now, but why have you spoken of the geas earlier?"
"What do you care!"
"I care that you are a mortal and that, as a Seer of Eilistraee, it's my duty to do what I can for mortals when they suffer!"
"I would not suffer this scorching heat in my right hand if you weren't clutching at my arm! Now let go of me!"
"Is it the first time someone tries to understand you, Chamaedaphne?," the Seer exclaimed in alarm. "Did you have to come as far as the Underdark to meet someone determined to be a match for your temper to help you?"
The elf startled violently, and a fireball shot from her right hand, flying through the room to crash upon one of the pillars. It set the tapestries on fire, and shook the whole building down to its foundations.
There were tears on Chama's face now. "Let me go," she pleaded.
"I have not held on for so long to let go now," the Seer stated, gently placating. "What is this with the geas?"
The silence stretched. The Seer feared someone would crash in to see what was wrong before the elf had emptied her heart out. The fire spread to nearby tapestries, and the Seer thanked her goddess that the temple was constructed in stone and not in wood, like the one in the human city of Waterdeep.
"It has been my perception since the beginning that the geas is some kind of measure that forces me to do good," Chama finally exposed. "What it actually does is forcing me to fight on your side, which is a slightly different constraint, but as you see, I confused the two."
"Chamaedaphne… the geas could not alter you. You are strong and I am sure that, if you were determined, you could fight it. You do not have to be forced by a spell to do good."
Chama closed her eyes, shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but the Seer did not let her say a word.
"Please, trust me, Chamaedaphne. I have watched you. Was it the geas when you freed the illithid slaves?" There was no answer. "When you chose Ferron's side on the Isle of the Maker?" Still no answer. "When you spared the priest of Talona on the Isle of the Avariel?"
"How do you know about that," Chama retorted, her tone more one of accusation than one of question.
"I try to learn as much as I can from your adventures, from Imloth, Nathyrra, Valen, or even Deekin. Please, Chamaedaphne… do you not see that Matron Myrune could not be ignored any longer? If she had carried her betrayal through the end, she would have killed both Valen and you; we would have been left without our greatest warrior and without our greatest wizard. She would have turned us over to the Valsharess; we would have lost her guards' support in the conflict, and we would have been forced to fight them as well as the Valsharess' forces. You did what you had to…"
Just then, Valen rushed down the stairs, escorted by the guards which had stood by his door. He was sweating and swaying on his feet, but held his flail valiantly.
He looked at the three women; Nathyrra frozen, the Seer worried, and Chama… devastated. He looked from them to the burning tapestries, and then back to Chama; no doubt she was the one who had set everything on fire.
His first reflex was to ask what was going on, but then he thought better of it.
"Is anything wrong?", he asked carefully, his eyes going from one to the other.
"No, Valen, nothing is wrong," Nathyrra answered calmly. "As you can see, I didn't catch up with Chama on her way to House Mae'viir, but she's back and alive. I'd ask you to help me put out the fire, but I can see from here you'd do better to go back to bed. Sleepyhead."
Valen snorted in disbelief. If nothing is wrong, I am a devil of the ninth hell of Baator. He did sit in the stairs however, because his head was spinning. Chama and Nathyrra extinguished the fire with spells, and then Chama fled to her room, leaving Nathyrra, Valen and the Seer alone.
Valen finally had an occasion to ask what was on his mind. "What is going on?"
"She feels guilty for having killed Matron Myrune," Nathyrra explained truthfully. The Seer felt grateful for the young drow's way of explaining things to Valen honestly, but without betraying Chama's trust.
Valen's eyes hardened. "I see. But a traitor should not be worth that much remorse."
ooooo
Alone in her room, Chama cried herself to sleep, crying over how anger had almost taken her over again, and crying for five lives she had ended – the six others, the five remaining guards and Tebimar, had been victims of Gulhrys – and crying for guilt crushing her, and crying because she had a right to anger when someone tried to assassinate her, and crying because not all was hopeless, because the Seer had said that guilt was the way to redemption, not the chains bearing her down.
She shouldered her guilt and cried. At length pain faded to black and she fell asleep.
ooooo
"Remorse is what separates the mortal from the inhuman, Valen," the Seer warned.
"I know, and I don't mean that she should not feel guilt. Just that… some things just need to be done. They are harder to do because they are ugly and give us remorse, but they still must be done. Thinking this way is not being inhuman… at least I hope so… and you can still live with yourself if you accept this."
The Seer looked at him. His words were wise, and she could see pain in his eyes; he lived in this way, she knew. Doing things that need to be done, bearing the guilt for his actions, but accepting it and not being crushed by remorse.
"Yes, Valen… you are right."
Nathyrra suddenly came over to where he sat in the stairs, leaving the Seer to take down the burned tapestries from the wall, and hugged him quickly. She surprised him completely, more with her teary-eyed look than with the hug itself.
"Our weapon master is a philosopher," she said. "Now get your ass off that step and come help us; we need that extra foot of arm's length to take down the highest tapestries."
ooooo
Imloth walked into the Seer's antechamber confidently; he had a long habit of delivering reports to her here. The day had been busy, both inside the temple and out; he was as eager to tell her of the consequences of House Mae'viir's change of hands as he was to hear the temple's perspective on Chama's actions.
He bowed when he came in, and closed the door. She was sitting in a chair and gestured him to take the other. He was half-way through the room and his sentence, when he noticed how exhausted she looked.
"Mother Seer, I bring you news… By Eilistraee, Mel, you look terrible!"
He let go of his dire mace and hurried to her side, kneeling on the floor in front of her. As always, the torments of the day seemed to lift from her slim shoulders when he spoke her name – not her given name, "Seer", but the shortened version of "Melosira" that was his sole privilege. She shifted back from a pressed leader to a simple woman, tired and needing to confide in someone, she who was everyone's confidante and councillor.
"I am tired," she admitted. "My Goddess knows, Chamaedaphne is a lot to handle."
Imloth chuckled. "I guess we should thank Eilistraee that at least it's Valen handling her most of the time. Do you wish to tell me what happened to drain you so?"
She reached for his hand in an accustomed gesture. He took it and stood up to perch himself on the armrest, an arm draped across the back of her chair to keep his balance. She rested her head back on the backrest.
"She felt guilty for dealing with Matron Myrune. She… is harsh with herself. She carries remorse and tries to be holier than a saint in fear that she will repeat the evils of her past. She does not accept failings of herself, either in battle or in morality. She even considers as failings things that she should not. It… was difficult to convince her that she did right to kill Matron Myrune and Tebimar."
Imloth sighed. "I understand that. It is far behind me now, but I still remember the first moments after my conversion to Eilistraee, how I feared to displease her in each of my actions."
The Seer smiled at the memory. "Yes, you were so fearful."
Imloth slowly let go of her hand and started to play lightly with a strand of hair over her ear.
"You should get some rest. I will keep my reports for tomorrow. Suffice it to say for tonight that everything is fine in Lith My'athar."
She smiled. "Thank you, Imloth."
He nodded and stood up from the armchair, ready to leave her to rest, but then she took his hand again.
"Would you stay with me a while, or will someone come looking for you?"
"I said I would deliver my report and take some rest. We have a few hours."
He was already moving to free her hair from the bun at the back of her head. She let him free her hair, and took his hand to guide him to the bedroom. He followed silently, and she helped him out of his armour.
They lay down and Imloth quietly drew her against his chest. She fell against his shoulder contentedly and with relief, and he murmured in her hair, "Good night, Mel."
"Sleep well, Imloth."
And soon she was asleep. Imloth stayed awake a long moment, watching her sleep. It was often like this in those rare moments when they were alone and free of their respective responsibilities. She would collapse, exhausted, sleeping in his arms, and he would hold her and watch her and stay awake to savour and treasure the moment. On some other rare occasions both of them were rested enough that they did not feel like sleeping right away. Still, there were times when they were weeks or even months without a chance to see each other outside of formalities. Some days he was bitter about it; he would have liked to sleep next to her and to wake by her side everyday, and call her by her name when he wished it. But he understood her situation. A Seer of Eilistraee could not govern her people with a male in the equation, especially not if he was the army's commander. There would be slandering rumours about her acting as a matron mother and taking a favourite consort.
He always had a wry smile at that thought. He acted nothing like her consort or bodyguard, and she acted nothing like a matron mother; maybe it would have been the best example to show to Eilistraee's followers, but Imloth possessed enough wisdom to understand that the drow of Lith My'athar were not ready yet to accept that their Seer had a lover.
And so this was how things were between them. They did not hide, but they were careful not to look suspicious. Imloth had been serving her for so long that no one ever questioned his presence or his actions. This made it easier not to hide or lie to anyone.
So Imloth stayed awake, holding her gently and hoping that this night would be dreamless for her, that she would taste a bit of the peace she so needed. But eventually he allowed himself to drift off to sleep, because he cherished waking next to her as much as he loved observing her sleep.
He sent a short prayer to his goddess; he humbly asked that Melosira, his beloved, rest well for a night, and he wished Eilistraee's benevolence upon all the rebels.