Day's End

by Blackcross-Taylor

Peace is an illusion - the end is coming.

25. On the Road

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

Author's note: Annnnnd we're back. Apologies for the long wait – a few things have happened here recently to leave me rather disheartened. It's all over now, or at least, I am over it, and so we move on. Thank you to my beta and to everyone who reviewed the last few chapters and, because someone asked, the name Fritha is pronounced as the 'Fri' in refrigerator and the 'tha' in thanks. Hope this helps, and please read and review.

– Blackcross & Taylor

On the Road

Imoen ducked lower, bare knees scraping in the gravel and feeling the downdraft ruffle her hair as the creature swooped over her to clash against the other in the burning sky above, two dragons, one black and one red, locked in ferocious battle, their roars and shrieks echoing about those arid cliffs. She was in the centre of some dusty market square, the buildings about it obscured by smoke as fire from the fight above rained down upon them, faceless people stampeding about her, their screams ringing in the hot air.

Imoen fought her way through the throng. There was a temple to the north, she could see its bell tower a blinding solid white above the dark chaos about her and she broke from the crowds to suddenly halt. A woman was stood before the doors, black clad and hooded, the bound form of a man laid before her, straining vainly against his ropes on the dusty cobbles, awaiting the blade she held.

Imoen did not think, she had not time, every fibre of her forced into that lunge in her compulsion to save him, when in a blink, the prone body was before her, the knife hilt slick in her hand and Imoen struggled against her own muscles as she brought the blade sweeping down.

A jerk and she was awake, eyes immediately pierced by the morning's glare and she snapped them shut once more.

So they had started again. The dream hadn't made sense, though perhaps that was for the best. She did not like the idea of knowing their troubles before they met with them – you just ended up suffering twice. Imoen lay still a moment enjoying the feel of it, the cool air a sharp contrast to the torpid heat of their bodies beneath the blankets, and listening to the sounds of the street outside the window: the doves in the rafters, the rumble of wagons on their way to set an early pitch at the market, the creaking door of the washhouse opposite as they welcomed a steady stream of locals swapping clean clothes for dirty laundry, the girl lost in daydreams of living in a small town with the simple lives and loves that came with it; she gave herself a month before she was bored stupid.

Imoen felt herself smile, opening her eyes but a fraction to take in the room through lowered lashes: the empty wine carafe on the table next to them, the burned-out oil lamp before the mirror. They had not bothered to close the shutters, the farthest one still half open to the dawn, a pane of weak sunlight falling on the empty bed opposite, and Imoen wondered briefly where Brieanna had spent the night, until the shifting presence behind brought her attention back to that cramped bed and the naked form that seemed to fit so seamlessly to hers.

'Morning,' she offered, shifting on to her back to make room for his stretching, and announcing her presence before he inadvertently toppled her out of bed. A long pause, Imoen's stomach tightening with every moment that dragged by.

'Good morning.'

He sounded uncomfortable, as though he did not know what else to say. Imoen allowed him a moment's silence to gather his thoughts, Valygar eventually turning on to his side to face her, his dark chest level with her shoulder and making her skin seem all the paler. She watched it rise, drawing the breath for his question.

'Did you sleep well?'

'Yeah, well enough. You?'

'Yes, fine… I have not seen this before,' he continued, gesturing to the pendant that rested just below her throat an inch or so above the quilt, the disk of swirled, mottled blue -lapis lazuli Jaheira had told her- the rune for twin carved and gilded upon its face. Perhaps it was an easier topic right then, all his focus upon it, and she let her eyes travel that stern face and the faint lines that marked the broad forehead and full, determined mouth, for the first time seeing the age that was between them.

'You mean you didn't notice it last night?' she teased quietly, his discomforted silence urging her on, the disk smooth and cool in her fingers. 'Aerie gave it to me. She has one too, made from the same piece of stone. I think she was worried I'd be lonely after her and Haer'Dalis left.'

'Blue suits you.'

'Maybe I'll try it on my hair once I get bored of the pink,' she laughed, eliciting that first smile from him and the worried knot in her stomach finally released, his arm scooped under her neck as she nestled into his shoulder. 'Ah, I wish we could just stay here today.'

'We did not hear Fritha return; perhaps we will be.'

They lay like that for long enough that Imoen nearly dozed off again, a bang from the street below starting them both back to wakefulness and apparently spurring one of them onward. Imoen frowned, the movement tugging her hair as Valygar eased his arm from under her to prop himself upon an elbow, his other arm laid on the pillow above, curved about her head and almost cradling her, Imoen feeling rather exposed as she lay beneath those searching dark eyes.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing, merely- Imoen, do you worry we are rushing things?'

The girl shrugged, shifting the pillow up an inch.

'No, I always take everything at my own pace. Why? Are you worried?'

'No, I just…' he sighed; frustrated, uncertain, she could not tell. 'I just want you to be sure, Imoen. I- you are very dear to me.'

She smiled, relaxing back into the pillow, his stilted declarations warming.

'I know, Vals. And you don't have to worry -if you're happy, then I'm happy. You know,' she continued, letting fingers trail down his arm, 'you're very dear to me, too.'

He snorted, half-amused, half-rueful.

'How can I doubt it? You always seem to be able to show me, even in the smallest of ways.'

Imoen felt her smile falter, gaze steadily on the arm she was still stroking.

'Perhaps your worries hold you back… because of what you fear I'll become. I know you don't like it, but magic is more than just something I learnt in Candlekeep or the Asylum. It's a part of me now, and it's something I think I can use to help a lot of people.' She fixed him with an unrelenting look, 'I won't shy from that, Valygar.'

Valygar was frowning, though she could read nothing in it and it seemed the man would pull away from her, making some excuse to get up and avoid that lingering thorn between them, her fingers halted on his arm as he laid a warm hand over them.

'I understand that your skills will be important in the days to come, Imoen, and more than that, I understand that they are important to you. Though I cannot trust the power you hold, I do trust you with it.'

They shared a smile, Imoen leaning up for kiss, the air cold on her bared back and his arm a brand about her shoulders. Well, this was as ready as she was going to be to leave bed that day.

'Ah, I suppose we should go and face the day. Just you see, Fritha, will be in a vile mood and march us south like an advanced guard.'

Imoen straightened, the quilt still clamped firmly at her chest as she moved to swing her legs over the side of the bed, that briefest resistance to her going in the arm about her all she needed to confirm the affections he worried were too hidden.

'I wonder what they've on for breakfast,' she mused idly, edging forward and well aware of what she was doing as the quilt wrapped about her body edged with her.

'Imoen…'

'Well, you can't expect me to wander about naked, Vals.'

'Imoen!'

She whipped the blanket off him with a flourish, Valygar a blur as he sprang up to catch her, hauling them both back to the bed in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

xxx

Out in the street, the morning was fresh and cool, Indraviat already up and enjoying the new day by the rumble of the marketplace just a street away, the sky a clear bright blue that would only deepen as the sun rose further, Anomen left squinting in the glare thrown up from the pale cobblestone. According to Solaufein, Fritha had left early that morning to get supplies for the next few days, the drow relaying her message to meet her outside at the terce bells. And so there they were, gathered in the street before the tavern like delinquents, though there was no sign as yet of their errant leader.

He felt the irritation prickle through cotton-wool weariness. Those two staggering in late last night, drunk as Lliirans, then Fritha flitting off with the drow and leaving him to haul Brieanna upstairs, only to realise once he reached his room, that with Valygar absent it was not too much of a supposition to conclude where the man was making his bed, and Anomen had been forced to spend a good half hour trying to convince Brieanna that she really couldn't go back to her own room and she should just remain there and go to sleep.

A deep frown to Imoen and Valygar, the pair oblivious as Imoen hung off the man's arm, Valygar hooking a bright pink lock of hair behind her ear with an obvious affection. Anomen turned from them before their warmth could sting, prepared to send a frown to Brieanna, too, but the woman looked so ill he found he hadn't the heart. She was the only one not in the street proper, the woman's tall frame leant in the shade against the tavern front, her armour absent, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her pallid skin and puffy eyes closed to the glare -if she managed to keep down the small bowl of porridge she'd eaten at breakfast, then she was of a stronger fortitude than he.

A shout from the laundry in the building opposite started them all, the woman glancing up to catch him watching and both quickly turned away. With what had happened the previous day, and her subsequent return to the inn, it seemed the last thing Brieanna had wanted to see that morning was him sat on the bed opposite packing his bag. The murmured 'good mornings' and Anomen had excused himself to allow her to dress, and the next time he had seen the woman was around a table in the common room.

Behind them, the door banged open, four men he recognised as members of Hirsad's company leaving the inn to set out towards the nearby market, likely the beginning of some discreet patrol. Anomen watched them pass, feeling that sinking sickness bubble low in his stomach. Yesterday it had not seemed real, but that morning it was beginning to sink in: he was expelled. After those many years at the seminary and as a squire both, the Order had cast him out. He was no longer a knight and never again would he have the camaraderie of his brothers; the life he had spent so long working towards was over before it had even truly begun. With the coming war and everything as it was, it really shouldn't matter - but it did.

'There she is -Oi, Fritha!'

Imoen's mad waving was hardly necessary; Fritha was only at the end of the street, the girl almost skipping as she strolled cheerfully down it to join them, arms laden with bags, though they were overlooked at first in light of the change in her. Her trousers had been taken up to hang a good inch above her ankles, just as they had been in that last month of summer when they had first met, her usual linen tunics of blue or green swapped for a white muslin kurti, a fine pattern of flowers brought out in the weave. And with the rows of bracelets, new straw hat and blue woollen scarf looped about her neck, she looked more like a noble's idea of an adventurer; a clever costume for some Midsummer ball. A few paces before him, Imoen was already beaming.

'Fritha-'

Anomen cut off the, no doubt, furious debate as to her new outfit.

'Fritha, we have been here waiting for nigh on a half hour; where have you been?'

'The market,' she explained artlessly as she at last reached them, 'didn't Solaufein tell you? It was busier than I'd expected. I got supplies for the next few days, plus a few other things we needed. Look,' she smiled, cocking her head to proffer him a bejewelled ear, a single creamy pearl sat upon the lobe, 'I managed to find a replacement for the earring I lost in the camp. It's nearly a perfect match.'

Anomen could feel the sneer curling his lip – how like her to breeze in as though nothing had happened.

'Well, I am glad to see our coin is not going to waste.'

Fritha just laughed. 'Ah, go and give Brieanna a snog, that'll cheer you both up.'

His jaw dropped; Imoen's enthusiasm saw its chance.

'Ooo, I like your tunic –did you get it this morning?'

'Yes, to replace the blue one I wore in the camp –I couldn't get the blood out in the end, so I sold it to a scrap dealer at the market and bought this one.'

'And not just that, I see -the earrings are close, aren't they? And,' Imoen leaned in with a delicate sniff, 'are you wearing perfume?'

Fritha nodded eagerly. 'Yes, and kohl on my eyes.'

'But, why?'

Fritha laughed delightedly. 'Why not? I got some for you, too; I thought it smelt pink. Oh, and here,' she continued, pressing the small glass vial into her hand and slipping a strung bow from her shoulder, unobserved in the commotion of her arrival. 'I tried a few and this was definitely the best. I hope it's all right for you. And, that isn't all,' she trilled, turning to pass Solaufein a long, leather-bound case from her other shoulder. 'Here, a lute of your own -now we can play together! It's not the best instrument, but it's certainly good enough for someone just starting out, and we can trade it in for a better one once you know a little more.'

The drow said nothing at first, letting fingers trail across the case with a reverent care.

'I… my thanks, Fritha.'

Fritha waved the gratitude away with a rattle of bangles, that smile already turned and beaming upon the tall woman who was still wilting in the shade of the inn.

'And how is Brieanna feeling this morning?'

'No worse than I deserve.'

'Oh, bless,' Fritha clucked, taking off her hat to throw it lightly to the woman. 'I did try to get you to drink tea in that last bar, but you would have none of it. Here,' she continued, passing a small stone bottle to her as the woman moved to join them, 'the local apothecary said it would cure what ails you –no pun intended. Right, are we all ready?'

Anomen actually felt he could do with a sit down; Fritha had swept through there like a whirlwind.

'Well, let's be off then,' she trilled, an arm snaked about her friend's as they set out, the slyest of glances thrown to Valygar. 'And did you have nice evening, Imoen? I see your hair is looking bright –I'm sorry I left before I could help you. Brieanna and I didn't return until almost midnight. You know it was the strangest thing when I finally got back to my room: all the pictures on the back wall were rattling.'

An explosion of laughter from the pair, their heads in close as they whispered and giggled, Valygar hanging back to fall into step with him at the rear, his expression carefully neutral. Anomen shot him a commiserating frown; it was difficult to tell which of those girls was worse some days. At their head, Imoen had turned back to beckon to the drow just behind them.

'Come on, Sola, you can play us a tune while we walk.'

xxx

'And laughing, the evil troll did leave, slamming the door behind him, and with a mighty crash, the snow did fall from the hall's roof and bury him, and all laughed at his foolishness. The young warrior was saved, and the young witch rejoined her sisters. And that is why among the Rashemi, even one who leaves in temper, never slams the door.'

The ranger ended his tale with a wise nod, Fritha beaming.

'Ah, a good story, Minsc, I can see why it was your favourite.'

'Indeed, I would often beg good Master Janiev for the tale as we spent the long winters about the fire pit of his hut when I was but a boy smaller even than you!'

Fritha laughed warmly. 'No, I refuse to believe you were ever that small, Minsc.'

'Well, it was so. Boo even tells me there was a time I was a small as him, though I do not recall it.'

Anomen watched the pair laugh again, Fritha and Minsc sharing stories just as they had since they had halted for lunch, the noon meal much more extravagant than they usually bothered with, their group settled on cloaks at the side of the stony path, the cotton-tuffs of sheep the only break to the verdant plains that rolled off to the horizon in all directions to meet the azure sky.

Fritha's trip to the market had not just yielded lutes and perfumes, the girl dutifully getting the supplies they would need to take them almost to Amkethran, though it was not merely the usual rations of hard tack and dried meats, the girl opening her pack to set before them a feast of fresh bread, soft cheese flavoured with garlic and a whole roll of cold roast gammon, as well as olives, dried apricots, sweet bread cakes and other delicacies.

Imoen thought Fritha was finally ready to discover the pleasures of food after a tenday of not having any. Anomen thought Fritha was feeling guilty.

This rich banquet had clearly not been to all their tastes though, Brieanna leaving their group at speed just as they were packing up, Imoen following only to return with the unwelcome news that Brieanna was being 'extravagantly sick', though she promised not to be long.

Anomen glanced back to where she was walking behind him, Brieanna still pale under Fritha's hat though she did seem a little better, the woman catching his eye to send him a very wan smile, while next to her Valygar broke away from Imoen's clinging grasp, keen eyes catching on some trample of grass just next to them.

'What is it, Vals?'

'Hoof prints and from more than one horse - perhaps men on foot, as well. Minsc?'

The summons halted their passage, Minsc and Fritha turning back, the latter suddenly hopping as she likely scuffed gravel into her sandal. Anomen made a measured approach to her as Minsc moved to join Valygar at the path's edge.

'Another stone?'

Fritha glanced up warily from where she was stooped and shaking out her sandal, unsure as to whether this polite inquiry was an offer of peace or just an opening for yet more admonishment.

'Yes, no sooner do I get rid of one, than another finds its way in.' She puffed a sigh, straightening to take up the fan he'd bought her from where it hung on a long green ribbon at her belt, 'I'd put my boots back on if it wasn't so hot.'

'Indeed,' he continued, the weather by no mean warming his tone, 'I noticed you are without your chainmail, as well –where is it?'

'In my pack, where it usually is.'

'I wondered you had not sold it when you returned this morning with half the market.'

Dark eyes flashed; he'd gone too far.

'Not that no, but I did sell my old tunic, the dress I had made in Marmont and my jade earrings, and since you were quite happy wolfing down the proceeds of which at lunch, I think we'll have a few less comments on what I spend my coin.'

'Your jade-' he faltered, that horrible hollow guilt opening under his ribs. 'They were your favourite.'

'Yes,' she admitted tiredly, 'but such elven craftsmanship is rare in towns like this – I managed to get three times their value; an enviable prize for some strutting merchant's wife. Besides, for all the coin I spent, I got some very good deals.'

'This talk of war has lowered prices?'

'No, but I was flirting outrageously.'

Anomen scowled, watching her fan bat a steady rhythm before her rosy face, bracelets chiming.

'Kossuth's Eye, it's so hot. I'm surprised you can wear that,' she sighed, playfully tapping his cuirass, 'must be like an oven.'

'I am used to it –it is always the duty of some to be ever responsible for the others.'

Fritha heard his cool intimation. 'Anomen, I already apologised this morning for leaving Brieanna with you last night. I was drunk and I really didn't think you'd mind seen as you and she are such good friends now.'

'Oh, not this again! As I already told you, she made a move towards-'

'Up, up, up, Anomen,' Fritha cut in smoothly and leaving him all the more frustrated, 'that's none of my business, and I wasn't even talking about that, I just honestly didn't think you'd mind helping her to her room- Solaufein or I couldn't have carried her.'

'I suppose not.'

Fritha sighed again, seemingly resigned to his displeasure and throwing a hopeful glance back to the two rangers, the girl eager to set off once more and escape his company. Anomen frowned; is that how he wished for things to be between them?

'I am sorry, Fritha.'

'What are you apologising for?'

'I- I do not know.'

Fritha laughed easily, their quarrel soon forgotten. 'You remind me of my later years back in Candlekeep; Gorion would only have to enter the room with that look on his face and I was up and apologising before I'd even heard an account of my crimes.'

'You were that unruly?'

'No, I don't think so, but there was little room for error, especially towards the end. Not Gorion, but the other sages had little patience for a girl who should know better.' She sighed gently. 'Well, they got what they wanted in the end.'

Anomen watched her listlessly kick a loose stone along the path

'Do you never think you will return there?'

'No… But what about you?' she continued, suddenly brighter, 'Do you remember telling me about the family you had left on your mother's side –do you still plan to seek them out after this?'

To be honest, he had not seriously considered the idea since they had spoken of it those many months ago.

'I suppose so…' he pondered, the thought taking form in his mind. He had not the Order to bind his movements now; perhaps he could devote himself more to his family. Depending on their circumstances and desires, he could invite them to come and take a hand in running the estate –perhaps he could invite someone else, as well. 'Yes, I believe I will.'

Fritha was beaming. 'Good, that's- that's really good, Anomen… Maybe you can ask Brieanna to go with you.'

'Fritha!'

'I'm teasing! I'm just teasing!'

'Well,' he grumbled, grudgingly mollified by her giggling, 'I merely do not wish you to think that this is a situation that requires any encouragement -you and Imoen will have to find a way other than matchmaking to keep yourselves occupied until we reach Amkethran.'

But Fritha just laughed.

'Oh, no, I've learnt my lesson. I can't complain about people trying to match me up, when I'm busying doing it to others.'

'Who has been trying to match you?'

Fritha ignored the question- smiling as she gave his arm a hearty clap.

'And why must people be paired anyway? It brings no more stable a happiness than friendships. If you present one to another and nothing blooms, then no amount of meddling will make it otherwise. Let love find its own way.'

'Yes, it has its ways,' Anomen agreed quietly, filled with a sudden urge to make some contact with her, however innocuous, moving a hand to lay upon her shoulder or arm, though Fritha sidled back with a wary frown, a rumble on the path behind them cut off any comment she'd planned to make. Anomen ignored the stab of disappointment, their group turning as one to find a line of four caravans slowly cresting the slight slope. The lead wagon was driven by a stout man of Calimshite descent, his smile a flash of white beneath his thick well-groomed moustache, the two youths sat next to him likely his sons by their look.

He raised his arm and the wagons behind him halted, the man leaping from the seat in billow of dark red robes, his Chondathan about as fluent as Anomen's Alzhedo, though he spoke it with more confidence.

'Ho travellers, to where do you head on such a dangerous road?'

'Amkethran,' Fritha called back, 'though we don't know that this road is any more dangerous than any other.'

'Ah, truly, then you have not heard the tales of Bhaalspawn armies and dragons? It is all they would speak of in the town we just left. We would not even be attempting this journey to Calimport at all without guards, but with the roads as they are, those few mercenaries left yet to be hired command a price equal to that of our cargo!'

Fritha trilled an easy laugh. 'You don't believe those rumours, do you?'

The man smiled, rings flashing on his fat fingers as he stroked his moustache thoughtfully, his gaze travelling their group and lingering a moment each on the curiosities of Minsc and Solaufein, before he seemingly decided not to ask, his smile back on Fritha.

'Perhaps not, but every story holds a grain of truth, yes? As you may see, we are a small company, just four wagons and making good speed, and we would be most glad to have the accompaniment of fine warriors as yourselves for as long as our paths match.'

Fritha glanced about her for any dissent. Imoen shrugged under her heavy pack.

'At least we won't have to carry our bags.'

Fritha turned back to the merchant with a smile.

'Why not? We would be glad of the company.'

'Ah, welcome then,' he smiled, a hand swept to the two swarthy young men still sat upon the wagon's bench, 'I am Harjit, and these are my sons, Badal and Jivaj. These rest are my cousins and servants,' he continued dismissively, clearly eager to be off, 'you will no doubt make introductions to them as we travel. Shall we go?'

Harjit did not wait for an answer, already swinging himself back onto the wagon's seat, Fritha slipping off her pack to dump it in the back with rest of the cargo, the younger of Harjit's sons quickly dropping from the bench.

'Here, I will help you.'

A look between them, and one that lingered even as the youth helped Imoen and then Brieanna settle their heavy packs within, the men left to find places for their own in the back of the next wagon, though Anomen did not follow them. He watched the pair share a smile, an indeterminable glitter to her dark kohl-rimmed eyes, fan lolling delicately in the fingers of one pale, poised hand.

'Dhanyavaad - my thanks.'

…

'Mistress Jaheira?'

'Your report, Rowin.'

'There was a herd of cattle about the watering hole up ahead, but the hands were moving them on as I left.'

'The direction?'

'Back eastwards.'

'Good. Return to the others and inform them we will be changing course due west to ensure we avoid them.'

The lad nodded, young face haloed by brown curls and lit with an endearing determination as he turned smartly on his heel to hurry back to where she had sent four of their company to scout ahead and ensure they avoided crossing paths with any shepherds, hunters, or anyone else who would find a twenty strong party of wanderers something of worthy of note, the druid herself closer to the group's rear as they walked onward heading northwest across plains to Marmont. The group had truly come together since they had set sail from the ruined camp seven days ago, and though there still those among them who kept their own counsel and others who seemed determined to make a friend of everyone, all felt a part of it, her leadership and their interaction a natural, organic development, where all had a place.

Jaheira tilted back her head to take in that field of glorious blue, the sun just pasts its zenith and warming left side through drifting clouds, the plains about them a rippling patchwork of light and shadow where shepherds and cowhands grazed their small herds.

They had even acquired one themselves, Jaheira and Athic returning the previous night from a local farmstead with supplies to discover a merry crowd gathered on the camp's edge, Eruna and Kuri at its centre, Kuri the jester for all as he stood with an arm about the wide-horned, cream cow, claiming she was his new bride and trying to tease from her soft nose a kiss. It seemed one of the few elves in their company had spotted a lone cowherd as they'd stopped to make camp, Kuri and Eruna marching out into the dusk to barter with him and paying twice what the mellow-eyed beast was likely worth. But it (Jaheira refused to use the name Kuri had given the beast – Gitali, for his aunt) served them well, carrying their heavier supplies and providing rich milk for the more malnourished of them.

Indeed, She was fortunate that all were well enough to make their way on foot now, and everyone had been glad to leave that barge behind after those last few days, all cramped onboard in the suffocating reek of their own bodies. Kuri had joked it was just like being headed to the camp, though others had not found the comparison quite as funny. At least such torments were behind them now, the barge left moored roughly to the bank a league from the village she now knew as Ludsbeck, the boat finally come full circle and returned to its owner, while they had immediately set out northwards into the deepening twilight.

Another half-dozen or so had left their company there, content to make their own way now the initial danger of the camp was far behind, and of the soldiers only Enric remained now, the two others parting company with them where they'd landed with plans to wait on the edge of the village for another patrol of their fellow soldiers to pass by. Jaheira did not worry- she had told no one outside of Athic and Eruna the location of their final destination, something which was a lingering source of resentment in the company. Not that she did not sympathise with their situation. Those people had suffered much at the hands of men who had claimed to work for a greater good, but those were the conditions of travel with her and all, more or less, suffered their distrust in silence.

As for Enric, she had asked at the time why he was not joining his fellow soldiers, but the man had merely shrugged, offering simply because there was where he was needed. Jaheira approved of such altruism –when genuine. She watched him now, Enric halting the man she knew as Tegran, the burns that twisted his face and arms nothing to the ones she knew had ravaged his legs and his limp had been growing steadily worse since they had set out that morning. Not that there was anything that could be done short of carrying the man, and Jaheira tried to quell the pity in age-hardened heart. A quick examination, Enric adjusting the bandages for what little good it would do and finally the cleric straightened, both nodding and smiling and both knowing they had done nothing despite their hopes. Tegran limped on, the soldier letting him pull away from him a pace or so before he felt able to breath that long disconsolate sigh, two fingers worked under the bridge of those now cracked spectacles. As with most of the men there, there was a good few day's stubble darkening his chin, his fringe falling across eyes which seemed older now than at their first meeting, the man glancing back to notice her watching and send her an embarrassed nod, dropping back through the loose throng to fall into step at her side.

'You needed me for something, Mistress Jaheira?'

She deflected his question with one of her own.

'How is Tegran's foot? No sign of infection, I hope.'

'The burns are still taking their time to heal; I would I could do more for the pain, but…' he trailed off, bitterly resigned to the impossibility. 'The balm you prepared is working well, though, and keeping it clear of infection. You have an invaluable knowledge of the remedies that can be found growing all about us.'

Jaheira dismissed his compliment with barely a smile, reluctant to be charmed so easily. 'We all have our different ways to render aid. Indeed, we are fortune all are able to make their way by foot -and so quickly too, at this pace we will make Marmont in but a few days more.'

'And then you will secure boat for us all?' confirmed Enric, making no attempts to hide his frown. 'Forgive my doubts, but I still wonder how you plan to accomplish this –we have not the money with which to buy or hire one and I do not think we would find it as easy to steal a boat this time.'

Jaheira bit back a sigh, the troubles that plagued her feeling all the realer when spoken aloud by another.

'We can discuss such in more detail nearer the time. Suffice to say, I have associates within the city -though I have not yet decided on whether to contact them or not.'

Enric smiled grimly; he likely understood her reluctance, her eyes drawn to the frayed patch on his sleeve where the rising sun insignia had been cut from his tunic –the army was another group that did not look well on those who went against the grain.

'Should it come to it, Master Carstil, we will simply have to walk.'

Enric nodded, a contemplative silence falling over them and Jaheira lost herself in the distant piping of the curlews – his sign bringing her back to his side to see him gesture to those scattered about them.

'Many in this land would think us fools for even attempting this; do you truly believe you can find a sanctuary for these people?'

Jaheira smiled inwardly, recalling the mercy they had shown to her despite the danger, not that she had known it then, just a frightened little girl who had been born to a title that had sentenced her death in that bloody revolution. The druids of the grove had saved her, protected her for no other reason than because they could. She could hear the words behind her eyes, soft and so full of conviction, when she had pressed the Grand Druid for the reason they, the druids who so often found themselves in conflict with man, had agreed to take her in.

'Because all life is precious, child.'

'Where we are going they have a habit of taking in those that others would have the sense to shun. I believe they will help us. But what of you, do you still think these people deserve to be caged and starved?' Jaheira continued, unable to help her sharpness as she recalled some the state of some of those she had treated in those first few hours of the camps liberation, half-starved and worked to the point of exhaustion. He was helping now, but he had had a hand in such tortures and it was not something he should be allowed to forget. Enric looked ashamed enough to mollify her.

'I never believed that. I joined the army, just as I joined you here, because I wished to help people. It is just difficult sometimes to see what is right when others claim the few must be sacrificed to save the many. Once I'd seen the camp for what it was my feet were as clay, I felt too caught by it to stop them –I am glad you arrived to take the step I could not.'

Jaheira merely nodded; perhaps there was hope for him yet, another silence falling between them though she did not enjoy it for long.

'Your betrayal of the girl, Fritha,' Enric opened conversationally, 'it was your plan all along was it not, to have us take her and lead you to the camp?'

'Yes, though many of us opposed the idea. We thought it too dangerous.'

'For her or us?'

They shared a wry smile –he was a sharp one.

'She played the role well,' continued Enric, smiling faintly at some memory of his own, 'I believed it, we all believed it –even to the end when she knelt so mildly in the square to await the blade. Then that dragon arrived, and by the gods, it was as though she exploded with all the fury of Tempus. She found me in the chaos. Even to the last moment, I thought she meant to kill me, and then suddenly I was choking in the dirt and she was stood over me, taking battle to the dragon that would have seen my end –she saved me, just as she swore she would.'

Jaheira said nothing; his compliments to her and her allies had her suspicious and it was a fool who did not learn from the tricks of others. She liked Carstil and perhaps that was his plan, after all they were but days from Marmont and a whole barracks of his allies. She would have to watch him carefully as they closed upon the town.

'Jaheira?' came the call behind and she turned to find Athic and Eruna closing to them, twin tight smiles on their tanned faces, while Athic's hand rested casually upon the girl's shoulder as it often was of late. Something in the druid's stomach clenched, Jaheira's smile quite at odds with her urgent tone.

'What is it?'

'Don't turn around,' Athic warned unnecessarily, 'but Eruna saw something in the grass back there.'

'I think we're being followed,' offered the mage, 'I thought it was a one of the shepherd's dogs that had strayed too far, but it seemed to duck when I saw it.'

'Was it a man?' asked Enric.

'I'm not sure.'

'Was it alone?' pressed Jaheira. Eruna shook her head, exasperated.

'I don't know! The more I try to remember, the more I doubt whether I saw anything at all.'

Jaheira tried to keep the grim fear from her countenance, keen eyes scanning the grasslands about them – If they were being hunted by mercenaries, they could already be surrounded and if they were… all there had a weapon, the most salvaged from the barrages after the camp felt, but few there were skilled in its use, an open fight would be carnage.

'I doubt we are outnumbered, but not all can wield a weapon as we do,' murmured Enric. Jaheira frowned.

'Where did you see it? Do not point, just describe it.'

'About two hundred yards south east of us, between the two boundary trees on the horizon.'

Jaheira nodded, more to herself than any indication for them, her course clearing behind her eyes.

'Right then, be ready to follow my lead. Everyone, all stop!' she called ahead, the order chorused outwards to bring them slowly to a halt, the druid collaring the nearest lad, 'Tebit, walk ahead and announced spread the word.' She dropped her voice as he left them, 'Eruna be ready with a spell.'

And without another word, she broke from their group, crossing with a deliberate lack of haste to a small knot of a half dozen cows. Just a good slap on the rump on the first, a shout that was more to its mind than its ear, and three youths of Tethyran descent were dancing up from their hiding places to narrowly miss the stampede, an unlucky fourth tripped to the dirt under that thunder of hoofs - these were no skilled mercenaries, merely boys dressed up in their father's armour. Her own group had gathered at that first order to halt, and seemed now to flow with a consciousness of their own to form a ring. Jaheira sensed in them stirrings of a mob; she would need to take care if they were to avoid any bloodshed, Gideon, Lucian and Athic taking it upon themselves to drag the youths into the centre and encourage them to kneel, Enric tending the injured fourth as the druid stepped forward to address the nearest.

'Your names?'

'Don't tell her!' hissed the lad to his left. The boy swallowed, quavering under her glare.

'I'm Sassan.' He nodded to his scowling companion, 'That's Artold, he's Majil and the hurt one is Darrid.'

'And from where do you hail?'

'Ledsbeck Village, upon the Agis.'

'That's two days south of here,' supplied Athic grimly, 'as well we all know having walked from it.'

Did he have to put it quite so antagonistically? A frisson of dread quivered her stomach at the sudden murmuring about her. Jaheira took another cool step forward.

'Why are you following us?'

'We weren't!' shouted Artold angrily, 'We're just cowha- ah!' he shrieked, Gideon viciously wrenching his head back by his hair to meet his snarling face.

'Try again, son.'

'Gideon…' Jaheira warned. The man loosened his grip, but did not let go. 'Do not lie to us again, boy. Why are you following us?'

A long pause, and Jaheira could taste the very tension in the air, like a storm upon the wind, played out in that ring of restlessly shifting bodies and even the breeze seemed colder, the moments creeping by when-

'It was Art's idea!'

'Darrid- Darrid, shut up, you whoreson!' shouted Artold next to him, instantly struggling to kick out at his companion, Enric pulling him clear as Darrid continued, 'Artold heard old Kahl talking about his boat being found moored by one of the local farmers. Everyone knew you Bhaalspawn had taken it, so we figured you'd been the ones to bring it back. We tracked you from the village- Artold said the army's looking for you, that there's a bounty on your heads.'

'So you thought to bring us in, did you?' joked one of the men, his ugly laugh chorused grimly about her.

'A score of us against you four –I like those odds.'

'Let's give them a head start, see how far they get.'

'No, please,' cried another of the youths, 'it wasn't like that. We were just going to follow you. Art thought we could maybe get some coin from the army if we could tell them where you'd gone.'

'So you were going to rat us out to the army?' confirmed Gideon, Artold struggling once more, eyes bulging as he frothed and fought, and seemingly only heightening the man's enjoyment as he let a hand move slowly to the knife at his hip, 'Well, do you know what we used to do to rats in Darromar slums?'

'That is enough!' snapped Jaheira, 'They are just children.'

'They were old enough to follow us for two days!' Gideon yelled back, others about him taking up the cry.

'Aye, and old enough to come up with this plan that would see us all dead!'

'And just to line their pockets!' shouted a woman to her right. Jaheira held firm.

'A plan that has done us no harm as yet –you would murder them for merely following us? You kill them now and you justify every excuse the Tethyrans gave to lock you up.'

The lines were being drawn.

'Jaheira's right,' cried Eruna, 'They haven't done anything to us!'

'But they would have, wouldn't you?' snarled Lucian, the boy trembling in his grip, 'Set those army dogs on our trail- do you know how we suffered in that camp?'

'Now, let us just all step back-' reasoned Enric.

'Shut it, guard!'

Fortunately, Kuri made a better speaker. 'Look, we all know I nearly found my grave in that moat we were digging, but these kids aren't worth killing.'

'So we just let them go?' demanded Gideon, Artold crying out with another vicious shake, 'Let them run back to the army and tell them where we are?'

'They have nothing to tell them!' snapped Jaheira.

'No, and it'll stay that way.'

The knife was drawn with a speed that threw even Jaheira, the druid sweeping out with her staff just in time to send it spinning from his hand with a sickening crunch. His howl echoed across the plains.

'You fucking bitch!'

'Who put her in charge anyway?'

'You all did,' Jaheira rejoined the unseen challenger and in a voice that carried, 'by following me! You do not like where I lead, then strike off on your own. And you four, get out of here and think twice the next time you weigh your lives against a few paltry coins.'

'Remember this mercy, eh, lad?' rumbled Athic as Enric finally pulled the bandage tight. The boy just nodded, too frightened to speak as his friends hauled him to his good foot and Jaheira watched them go, two bearing the injured third while Artold brought up the rear, frequently glancing back to ensure no one was in pursuit.

How simple for them to run off now, likely in the belief that they were the victims, and all the while unmindful of the damage their petty greed had caused.

'Come, we move. Move out!' she called, that gathering reluctantly disbanding to take up the journey once more, a dark look from Gideon promising troubles to come as the man shrugged off his friend, cradling his hand untended to his chest to skulk after them.

xxx

Another soft trill of laughter; Anomen forced himself not to look round, eyes fixed on the deep amber horizon and the dark shape of the wagon rumbling along a few paces before him.

It had been the same ever since they had met the caravan, the youth, Jivaj soon joined by his brother at Fritha's side and they had spent the last three hours in talk and laughter. Brieanna was still feeling too ill to share their company, preferring the more sedate conversation of Solaufein, and Fritha had found a reluctant cohort in Imoen, the girl dividing her time between her friend and Valygar as they walked, though she was with the trio now, giggling away as Jivaj shared his tale.

'There I am, Badal hurrying to help me as I try to climb back through the library window before our tutor can return and find me missing, when in walks my Aunt Geeta looking for her spectacles and Badal, so worried at being caught himself, slams the shutters closed on my hand!'

Badal was laughing, quite unashamed of this self-preservation. 'There is this great cry from the garden and we rush out to find Jivaj in a heap under the window, his hand grazed from where the shutters caught it, and the bottle of arrak we took such efforts to steal broken under him.'

'Most fortunate for us Aunt Geeta saw the blood and thought nothing of how I came by my disaster.'

'Oh, were you hurt badly?' gasped Fritha with a good deal more alarm Anomen thought one who regularly faced down blades should have shown a boyish mishap.

'No, no, though I bear a scar to this day -I can show it to you later, if you wish.'

'All right, I'll trade you,' offered Imoen, 'I've a lovely one on my hip where Fritha and me were sledging down stairs in a rug we'd borrowed from the attics.'

'Oh,' considered Jivaj smoothly, 'and your fair friend suffered no wounds from the venture?'

Anomen could hear the shy smile. 'Thankfully, no –Imoen broke my fall. Though I do have a couple of others, should I need them to trade.'

More warm laughter. The constant frown was giving Anomen a headache and he spared a glance to the man next to him, expecting an ally in his displeasure, but Valygar was calmly surveying the golden plains before them. Anomen felt the frown deepen.

'Our new companions are surely amiable –though they seem to have a partiality for certain company.'

Valygar took a moment to realise to what he was referring, though he seemed little bothered either way. 'I suppose. Young men will always favour the company of women.'

'Does it not trouble you?' Anomen goaded, wanting the man's ire to justify his own.

'Trouble me?

'Imoen behaving so with those men, when she is sworn to you.'

The ranger shrugged. 'They are merely talking –I trust in Imoen's affections.' A pause, Valygar's expression pulled into one of awkward sympathy, 'I am sorry it must trouble you.'

Anomen turned abruptly away, ashamed of his jealousy even as it burned. Before them, the lead wagon was slowing, Harjit dropping from the driver's bench to lead the horse onto the plains beside them. Anomen was glad of the distraction.

'It seems we are to halt for the night –we could have covered another few miles had we been alone.'

Valygar chuckled. 'Yes, but would you have wanted to under your pack?'

'Vals!' came the eager cry, the man whirling in time to be caught about the chest, the girl's short arms barely meeting as Imoen engulfed him. Valygar smiled down at her with a surprising tenderness and fondly ruffed her hair.

'And the women return to us -where are your swains?'

Imoen laughed, delighting in this uncharacteristic teasing.

'Harjit called them off to tend the horses.'

'Good then; Anomen was worried they would try to steal you away.'

Imoen drew back to send the man a sunny smile. 'Aww, no one could take me from you, Vals.'

'I am glad to hear it. And what of Fritha,' Valygar continued, Anomen's stomach clenching, 'Our leader has no plans to continue with this caravan to Calimport, and join some Pasha's harem? Anomen was just as concerned for you.'

Anomen was, in fact, torn between the conflicting emotions of jealously and toe-curling humiliation, the girl darting him a glance for a snatched deliberation before the coy smile was emerging behind her fan.

'You see me as concubine to some pampered noble? No, no, Valygar, you have me wrong – it is I who shall have the harem.'

Imoen gave a great burst of laughter.

'Fritha, you're worse than me!'

Fritha just smiled. 'Ah, Valygar, don't look so worried. I couldn't find one man to put up with me, let alone a few.'

'And it seems you would have it no other way,' the ranger concluded incisively, eyes drawn down the path to where the Rashemi was unloading the men's packs from one of the wagons. 'There is Minsc with the tents, we should go and help him.'

'So,' began Anomen to the cool silence they'd left and just catching Fritha's excuses for a hasty escape, 'Harjit's sons have gone to attend the horses.'

A deep sigh. 'Yes, Anomen, as well you know… Is this all because I spent the afternoon with them?' she countered sharply; for one who favoured subtlety Fritha could be very blunt when she wished it.

'And if it was?' he challenged. He watched the coy smile twist once more, though her eyes remained empty of its sparkle.

'Well, now, Anomen, you did say Imoen and I had to find something to occupy us on our journey.'

He tried to swallow the bitter disapproval, frustrated with her continuing games. 'Why are you doing this?'

'Doing what, Anomen? Talking to boys? Making silly jokes?'

'No,' he faltered, struggling with the question he wanted to pose, but asking why she was trying to make him jealous seemed arrogant to the point of ridicule.

'Come now,' she sighed, taking pity on his indecision, her face wearing that soft, melancholy smile, and he felt it was the most genuine sentiment he had witnessed of her all afternoon. 'Don't be cross. Here, have some olives.'

Anomen eyed the stone pot she had just fished from her bag. 'I thought we ate them all at noon.'

Fritha shrugged. 'I kept a few back -for an emergency,' she added with a laugh.

She knew how much he liked them. Anomen felt a smile creeping in. 'And does this qualify?'

'Oh, gods, yes!' she cried, pressing the pot into his hand. 'There's nothing worse than a moody bloke -just ask Imoen.'

'I feel she may be of a different opinion at the moment,' he offered dryly, a pointed glance thrown to where the girl and Valygar were sharing a tender look over the listing canvas of a half pegged-out tent. Fritha laughed.

'I'm so pleased for her –for them both.'

She turned, making a slow pace toward the caravan that held her own pack, Anomen falling easily into step at her side.

'So, were there any more purchases this morning we have yet to see? Should I expect to arrive at breakfast tomorrow to find you swathed in a sari? Or perhaps serving the tea in a light summer gown?'

'No,' Fritha smiled, plucking wistfully at her fine, white kurti, 'and I won't even be wearing this tomorrow. Cooler though the muslin is, white was not the best choice. See,' she sighed, turning up the lower hem where the dust of the road had already left a grubby brown tidemark. 'I will swap it for one of my linen ones tomorrow –keep it for best.'

'I hope the same will not be said for these,' he continued, fingers trailed down her forearm, making its weight of bangles chime. Fritha drew back with nervous laugh, arm clutched to her chest as though she did not know what to make of him.

'No, I think the jewellery can stay, and I imagine we shall all be wanting a share of my perfume soon enough. We only pass two streams on our way to Amkethran, and you know the water will have to be rationed.' A sly glance to him, 'A shame really -your beard gets any wilder and people will be assuming you are the savage Northerner of my company.'

Anomen laughed, rubbing a hand over the short hairs they both knew he had tidied but last evening.

'Ah, you may tease, but it was in similar circumstances that I first grew it. Do you recall me telling you of the summer I was first squired, and the month we spent camped in southern Amn? Water was rationed there, too, and I could not be troubled to waste any shaving -if I am honest, I had not really needed to before then. And as my beard grew in, I found it rather suited me.'

Fritha gave a wise nod. 'All I know is, Beth said never to trust a man with a beard –they always have something to hide, though perhaps even she would have made an exception for some.' She glanced up to him shyly, turning back to their path to sigh, 'Ah, lovely Sir Keldorn, I wonder what you are doing now.'

'Fritha!' Anomen cried, the girl flinging her arms wide in earnest plea, 'Oh, Sir Keldorn, carry me away for passionate hand-holding!'

She stumbled sideways, feigning a swoon and he darted in to catch her, the girl instantly stiff and hastening to right herself, Anomen left heady in the rush of patchouli and sandalwood.

'Sorry,' she laughed, scarlet face dipped as she extricated herself from him, 'did I frighten you?'

'No, no… You, ah, seem in better spirits since we left the town.'

'Yes… things are clearer now –and I'm glad to be on the road again. I meant to thank you, actually, for the other morning at the camp. I still have allies in this group, despite my follies – just as you told me I would.' She swallowed, adjusting her bangles with deliberateness that suggested she could not look at him, 'Thank you for your confidence, Anomen. I don't always think I deserve it, but it is a comfort to know someone believes in me.'

'There are two things you will always command of me, Fritha –one is my faith.'

'And the other is your disapproval,' she cut in quickly, 'I know which I deserve more, too.'

Another trill of nervous laughter rippled the air between them; Anomen frowned, the hurt returning to his previous anger and only fuelled as Fritha sent a nod to Harjit's sons, the men just stepped from behind the furthest wagon, Jivaj smiling as they passed.

'You certainly seem to be vying for it.'

Fritha merely shrugged, eyes following them across the camp. 'Their attentions are distracting.' She grinned, a certain tightness to the gesture, 'You know the role they expect of me now, Anomen: the red-haired seducer of men –I cannot disappoint my audience.'

'Then I leave you to your performance.'

'Oh, Anomen,' she cried, catching his arm, only to drop it the instant he'd turned back to her, 'don't be that way… We were just talking, having a laugh to help the day pass.'

'As you used to do with me…'

'Yes…' she agreed, unable to meet his eye, 'before, back in Athkatla.'

'I see.'

'Anomen!'

But her cry would not halt him that time, Anomen marching off with little thought as to where he was heading. The way she flitted about him, drawing him in only to push him away again, unmindful of his own turmoil. The sacrifice he had made to follow her there-

'Brieanna?' he cried, rounding a wagon to almost trip over her, the woman glancing up sharply from where she had been rooting through her pack.

'Anomen, I was- is something wrong?'

'No, I,' he struggled, anger forcing him on to blurt out the question that had been plaguing him all day. 'Brieanna, why did you kiss me?'

Her face was a picture, dark eyebrows darting up her forehead only to lower slowly into a discomforted frown.

'I did not.'

'No, I mean, why did you attempt-'

'Anomen,' she cut in, straightening to face her foe as any good solider, 'this is rather embarrassing for me, so let us just say what we must, and then never speak of it again. Please do not read too much in to my behaviour yesterday; I was missing someone from my past, someone of whom you sometimes remind me.'

Anomen felt the anger swelling. 'I see. Fine.'

Brieanna looked heartily confused. 'Anomen, I am sorry. If I have made you feel uncomfortable or-'

'No, do not apologise, my lady, it seems I am no one's preference.'

'Anomen?' she cried, but he was already gone, marching over to the opposite side of the camp as though he could not be far enough from the woman.

Fritha sighed, Brieanna whipping back at the noise to find her leant against the wagon's frame a pace or so from her.

'He's still cross then.'

'I would say a little more than that,' amended Brieanna. 'You plan to go after him?'

'No, I don't think that would be wise.'

The woman nodded her understanding, stooped over her pack once more. 'You are right; he is likely best left alone for a time. I imagine these last few days have been a trial for him. To know the risk to your actions, to have them pressing on you for so long and then to discover all you feared has indeed come to pass…'

Fritha felt the bottom drop from her stomach, that sick, yawning hole threatening to overwhelm her. 'The Order have expelled him, haven't they?'

Brieanna glanced up sharply; Fritha recognised that look of guilty dismay. 'You weren't supposed to tell me, were you?'

'No…'

Fritha sighed, looking over to where the man was now crouched and helping Minsc with the last tent.

'When did he find out?'

'Yesterday, in Indraviat.'

Fritha snorted. 'Tsk, tsk, Anomen, keeping secrets is very wrong.'

'Are you going to tell him you know?'

'Certainly not! I knew it would come to this and so did he. Not that I don't feel for him…' An understatement that seemed too large for words, and Fritha felt she could have broken down in tears just then, but to what end? How much easier the cool condescension. 'Poor fool, if only he'd- but there's no point in that now… No, I won't tell him, it wouldn't help anyone. So, how are you feeling then?'

'Much better than I was this morning,' the woman continued, attention back on her pack, 'the headache has finally ebbed –But this heat! I am sure it was never so hot before.'

'Before?'

'Yes, back in Amn. Perhaps I should wear sandals as you do.'

'Perhaps…' conceded Fritha, still more than a little confused, 'though I meant to ask how you're feeling about this verdict from the Order. If Anomen has been expelled, then your own petition will likely be rejected.'

'Oh, yes,' Brieanna laughed awkwardly, rooting once more. 'A shame, but only for what could have been, and the more I consider it, the more I am brought to the conclusion that, though it was to join the Order I was first compelled to leave the temple, I believe my path was always supposed to lie with you.' She paused, hands resting idle on her pack and her eyes looked almost black as she gazed up at her, earnest and full of hope. 'Our deeds here will change the face of this land.'

'Aye, one way or another,' sighed Fritha, 'But what of afterwards, when this is all over? If the Order is no longer your goal, will you return to the temple?'

Brieanna shook her head, looking for a moment sad. 'No… I will never return there. My Lord will decide my path when the times comes.'

'Yes, and perhaps the Order is not lost to you or Anomen.' Another glanced to the man himself, he and Minsc talking on the edge of the camp; Fritha felt the grim smile twist. 'They will take him back –matters here will guarantee it.'

Brieanna did not share her confidence. 'I do not believe whatever accomplishments Anomen returns with will sway the Order in this- he disobeyed them directly, and has caused much trouble for them with his presence here.'

'They will take him back. I will see to it.'

A strangled cry as Brieanna's pack was kicked over in her frustration. 'By the Gods, Fritha! When are you going to stop trying to make his decisions for him? Anomen chose to come and accepted the consequences as they were – is that so terrible?'

'Well, it hasn't worked out so well for him so far, has it?'

'Not by your judgement, but by his?'

'I don't know, why don't you go and ask him now the Order have kicked him out?'

'Fritha-'

'No, I am done here.'

And Fritha turned on her heel, stalking back around the wagon and more than ready for some company which did not involve a lecture, a familiar pink head catching her eye from between the caravans.

'Here, Imoen!'

'Fritha,' the girl called back, skipping over to her, 'where are you going?'

'To find Jivaj and his brother- do you want to come with me?'

'Well, just for a bit,' the girl relented at last, 'I was going to spend the evening with Vals.'

Fritha laughed. 'It must be love. Come on, I just want to talk with someone who isn't going to tell me off.'

'You mean Anomen?' Imoen confirmed, 'What's been wrong with him lately? He's been in a foul mood all day –and I've noticed you aren't helping…' Green eyes searched her face, 'It's almost like you want him angry with you.'

Fritha snorted, already turned and tugging at her sleeve. 'Like he needs any help with that.'

The truth was, she didn't want Anomen angry with her, but it looked increasingly like it was going to be inevitable if she continued her current course, and Fritha was undecided as to how bad a thing that would be. Well, she wasn't going to find out just stood there. Another insistent tug.

'Come on, Imoen, I need a drink.'