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Chapter Twenty-Five: Allies

Kera followed Jaheira through the twisting trees. Beside her, Solaufein matched her pace, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. She saw flamelight first, and then the others, Imoen and Minsc laughing near the fire, and Valygar methodically cleaning his chain shirt. Almost a normal evening, she thought wryly, until she let herself notice Haer'Dalis, sitting coiled and cross-legged on the boulder. He was looking at Melissan, his eyes dark and hawkish.

"Kera." The woman pushed up to her feet and smiled broadly. "You're alright?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm glad. Your friends…"

"The city fell. We didn't get back in time."

"It was not your fault," Melissan said gently. "You did all you could. Yaga-Shura is dead. His army is broken, fleeing."

"All those people," Kera snapped. "All of them. Your blameless Bhaalspawn. The ones you were so keen to save? They're dead."

"What could I have done?" The woman's head turned, and her eyes gleamed wetly. "What? I am not a fighter. I am not a soldier. I did what I could when the walls came down. They were dying, Kera. I tried to get some of them to shelter. To hide with me. To try and wait it out. What else should I have done? What else could I have done?"

"I don't know."

"It was dreadful," she said. "The air all full of flame, and the screams. Do you know what it sounds like, hearing a city dying around you?"

"And yet here you stand," Haer'Dalis remarked, blandly. "Nary a scratch on that porcelain skin."

"What does that mean?" Melissan twisted her hands together. "I found some of the children and I made them hide. What else was I meant to do? Face down soldiers? Men with swords? What else was I meant to do?"

"I don't know," Kera said wearily. "I'm sorry."

"No, I…I apologise. I am unsettled. We are all unsettled."

"Yes." Kera pressed her fingers against her temples. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thank you."

She sat near the fluttering fire, and Solaufein sat beside her, close enough that she could hear the measured rhythm of his breathing. She waited until Melissan joined her, and she looked up and into the woman's beautiful face. "We need to talk about what we're going to do next."

"Yes." Melissan nodded. "I…I need to talk to you."

"What about?"

"Well. It is important. It's also important that we talk about it alone."

"Why?"

"Because…well. You are the Bhaalspawn. These are words meant for you."

Kera shook her head. "No. Anything you need to tell me, you can say in front of my friends. They'll need to hear it as well."

"Kera. These are words that are meant for you."

"Your choice," she said. "Say it now, or don't say it. I don't care."

The silence between them stretched, broken only when Melissan sighed softly. "As you would have it. You are the one who killed Sarevok? In Baldur's Gate?"

"Yes," she answered, stiffly.

"We heard the rumours, and the tales, even down here. That the Iron Throne and its supporters had been brought to its knees, and by a young woman from Candlekeep."

"What's your point?"

"The Bhaalspawn who killed Sarevok must have been strong indeed," Melissan said, and her voice was hushed. "Strong enough to bring him to his death."

Desperate, Kera thought. Desperate and frantic and wondering how many more punishing strokes from his sword she could endure. "Yes, well. He died. That was the end of it."

"But it wasn't," Melissan murmured. "The stories, Kera. The stories that came from Baldur's Gate, down here, with the merchants and the mercenaries. You should have heard them. The Children of Bhaal were walking amongst us, they said. The Children of Bhaal would have blood for their father, they said. Perhaps now you understand why I asked if you wished ill against the Bhaalspawn in the city."

"How did it start?" Jaheira asked.

"Here? Two merchant caravans were attacked, and both brought back messages from a woman calling herself Illasera. Messages sometimes carved into the survivors' skin," Melissan said, and blinked. "She was one of the first to declare herself a Child of Bhaal, and it was then that the trade routes became dangerous."

"And Yaga-Shura?"

"He came down from the Marching Mountains."

"But why?" Jaheira tipped her head to one side. "Would he have come unasked? Unprompted?"

"I don't know," Melissan said, and shrugged. "I don't…there are others."

"Others?"

"Other Bhaalspawn." Her head lifted, and her blue eyes sharpened. "Kera, this is what you must know. There is one who calls himself Abazigal, and one who calls herself Sendai."

"Indeed?" Haer'Dalis hopped off the boulder. Casually, he curled himself near the fire, and added, "These names, pretty lady, they roll off your tongue most swiftly, yes?"

"They are names I heard from Gromnir's followers, in the palace in Saradush. They are names I heard whispered from the lips of survivors who ran up the causeway to escape into the city when Yaga-Shura's armies first arrived."

"Abazigal, then," Haer'Dalis said. "Enlighten us further. What shape stands behind this most intriguing name?"

"I am not sure. He is…I don't know. He is in the south, somewhere. There was a mercenary group, and they had come through Amkethran."

"In the desert?" Jaheira shook her head. "That is some fair way south, Melissan."

"Yes." She plucked at her sleeve cuffs. "Perhaps now you see that it is all of Tethyr that suffers, and further, into the deserts."

"This mercenary group? Perchance we may hear where the web of this tale of yours is to be spun next?" Haer'Dalis asked, and every word was genial.

"They came from Amkethran. They said the deserts were fraught with trouble, and attacks were made on caravans. The one behind it sent his soldiers and his monsters out, and he called himself Abazigal, a son of Bhaal."

"And the other?" The tiefling stretched out both legs, and leaned back on his elbows. "This Sendai of yours?"

"A drow," Melissan answered. "They say she is a drow."

"They say?"

"She is a drow. She has her followers, and they come up at night and attack the innocent, and she is Bhaal's daughter."

"They would be outcasts, then, all of them," Solaufein said, softly. "If they have taken to Bhaal's banner instead of Lolth's."

Melissan's head jerked up, and she gazed at the drow for a long, thoughtful moment. "I don't know where they're from, not really. They came up from under the ground, like all drow."

"Oh?" Kera leaned against Solaufein, tipped her head against the crook of his neck. "Do you know numbers? Places?"

"Anything of use, I believe my raven wishes to suggest."

"No," Melissan said, and licked at her lips. "I know…I know this is little to give, and much to ask. I have been in Saradush for so long, and I am afraid I can offer little more."

"And what is it you expect me to do with it?"

"Go south. Go south, and see about these Bhaalspawn the way you dealt with Yaga-Shura."

Find them, Kera thought. Find them and kill them and watch the bright rush of their blood as it flows.

"South," Jaheira said. "Where?"

"Amkethran. It is there…well, it is there they say Abazigal and Sendai are close. There, the caravan roads are well-guarded out of fear, and some fear to travel at all."

Kera looked into the twining flames and watched as they danced. South, she thought. The chaos promised in Alaundo's writings was at work, in Saradush and in the deserts and here, inside her own head. She could demand that Melissan leave, and take her rumours with her, and still, still, she would find herself winding a path south, she was certain.

South towards her brothers and her sisters.

"Melissan," Kera said, and smiled. "Would you come with us? Offer your help alongside us?"

"Me? Oh." The woman's pale hands delved into the disheveled fall of her hair. "Oh. I…would slow you down. I am…no, no, I couldn't. Not when…Perhaps I could meet you there? Meet you there later?"

"Meet us there? Why?"

"I know Amkethran. I have been there, though that was before these troubles. I know the people there, and their customs. And I…well. You have done so much already, and much of it because I asked. It would please me greatly if I could know that you were safe there."

Haer'Dalis grinned. "I was not aware Bhaalspawn owned some infernal art that allowed them to stop the free passage of travelers in these realms. Well, aside from stopping them the old-fashioned, blood-letting way."

"Go to Amkethran if you wish," Kera said, and she did not look away from the woman's face, from the deep lucid blue of her eyes. "Perhaps we will see you there."

"Yes. Yes, I…would like that."

"For tonight, will you stay with us?"

"Stay? With you?"

"We are quite some way back from the city," Kera said. "It is already near enough dark. When armies break up and soldiers run, it is never safe to be alone."

The line of the woman's mouth stiffened. "Yes. Yes, you are right. Thank you. That would be most welcome."

"Good." Kera pushed up to her feet. She ached, bone-deep, and she wanted to be away from the dazzling glare of the fire, and this woman and the bright fall of her hair and her nervous smile. "We'll speak in the morning, if you wish."

Kera knotted the tent flaps, and when she dropped onto the blankets, the breath left her lungs in a shuddering rush. "Was that the right thing to do?"

"Asking her to travel with us, or asking her to stay?"

"Both."

"I do not know," Solaufein said. "I will admit I am curious to know what you would have said had she agreed to travel with us."

She laughed, unsteadily. "I have no idea what I would have said. I just wanted to see what she would say."

"How very drow-like of you," he said mildly. "I would have asked the same, and for the same reason."

She smiled. She wanted to ask him what he thought of Melissan's words, and how easily she had spoken, of names and places and other Bhaalspawn. Of how she had looked at Solaufein with narrowed blue eyes, and how she had never once cared to glance at Imoen, nor ask after her name.

"I didn't like the way she looked at you," she said, before she could think better of it.

"Oh?"

"She…I don't know. It was as if she noticed you for the first time, properly."

"It is not so usual, is it, to see a drow among surfacers?"

"No. But it wasn't just that. It was…I don't know."

"Yes," he said, and found the buckles and laces on her boots. "I think I understand."

She shifted to one side to let him unfasten her weapon belt, and when his hands slid up and under the hem of her tunic, she shivered pleasantly. "There was something else, as well. I…"

Solaufein's fingers traced around her mouth. "Not now. Tomorrow, when we are away, and so is she."

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry. Just…we are taught that keeping silent when needed can be as important as the secret that a drow wishes to whisper aloud."

She nodded again, and turned her attention to the buckles on his armour. He helped her, and when he was shirtless beside her, she looked at him. Behind the panes of the lantern, the small candle fluttered, and the light swam in his white hair. She leaned into him, her forehead against his, until she felt each of his breaths, light and measured and against her lips.

"I feel filthy," Kera said.

"On some other night, I would go with you into the forest, and we could find some stream, some pool somewhere. It would be cold, but you would be clean."

"Not tonight?"

"No," he said, and his arms wound around her waist. "I do not think it would be wise. Not so close to the city…"

"And not with our visitor."

"No." His hands slipped up, and feathered through the straggling end of her braid. "I could comb your hair," he said. "If…you want me to."

She smiled and nodded, and when he found her comb, she sat between his parted knees. He loosened the ties in her hair, and he swept his fingers through first, spreading the damp, sticky waves of her hair.

"You were right," he murmured, and gently played the comb through her hair. "You are filthy."

"So are you."

"Yes." He worked carefully through an insistent knot. "I don't like it."

She heard the smile in his voice. "You're missing your drow luxuries, are you?"

He laughed, low and rich. "Yes. I rather think I am. I may have had few privileges in Ust Natha, but my bathwater was always hot, at least."

"Was it normal, for a commander to have such few privileges?"

"Yes, and no." He teased another tangle apart. "The title has more to do with the amount of scouts and fighters we command. Some drow males gain great privileges through the title, though it takes time, and cleverness. Others make mistakes, and the title and their ability to swing a sword well becomes the only thing keeping them alive."

She leaned back against the solid wall of his chest. "Solaufein."

His arms encircled her again. "Come," he said, eventually. "I will not leave your hair only half attended to."

She shifted forward, and rested both hands over his knees. She felt the faint pressure as the comb curved against the back of her head again. "I've never had a man do this for me before. I mean, apart from you."

"No?"

"No. I like it."

He took his time, and afterwards, he wove her hair back into a single, thick braid. She did not turn around, only clasped his arm around her waist, and drew him down onto the blankets. She reached back, and when she touched his thigh, she found him far too tense, his muscles hard.

"What is it?"

"You have your back to me."

"Yes?"

His fingers tightened around hers. "It is not usual. For drow."

"Oh. I didn't mean…have I offended you?"

"No, it's not that. It is simply that we…do not. Not usually. It is a signal of weakness, or one of trust."

She felt the warm slide of his bare skin against her back, and the rapid thump of his heart. "But…we've woken up like this, I think. In the morning."

"Yes, but that is not a conscious decision. I'm sorry. I'm not making sense."

"No," she said gently. "You are. Do you want me to turn around?"

He kissed the curve of her neck, just above her shoulder. "No. I don't."

Solaufein woke first and found himself still curled around her, both arms wrapped around her waist, and his face half-buried against the back of her shoulder. Pale light spilled past the knots and touched the edges of the blankets and Kera's hair, where small wisps framed one side of her face. He stayed like that, eyes half-closed, and enjoyed the feel of her in his arms.

When she stirred and stretched, she murmured, "What time is it?"

"Dawn, just."

"Mmm." She relaxed against him again. "You're warm."

"So are you."

"Are you alright?"

He hesitated, and cupped one hand over her hip. "Yes," he said, honestly. "My left arm is almost numb, though."

She rolled over, and when he saw her face, she was grinning. "You could have pushed me off you during the night, you know."

"I was resting."

She laughed, then, laughed until her shoulders shook. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. I just…"

He smiled. The smallest flush of red coloured her cheeks, and it pleased him. "I am certain I will survive, either way."

She caught his chin between slender, pale fingers. "You have a beautiful smile, Solaufein."

"Thank you," he responded awkwardly, and fought for something to say in return. "Kera, you…"

"You don't need to," she told him. "Please. Don't ever feel like you need to say something back."

He leaned into her touch, and sighed when her fingers slipped up to stroke the tapered length of his ear. "And if I want to?"

"Then by all means," she said, and her grin returned. "As much as you wish."

He opened his mouth to retort, but she tugged his head down, and her lips closed over the tip of his ear.

"Feels good?"

He nodded, and when he felt the gentle scrape of her teeth, he shuddered. "Very good."

She guided his head to one side, and turned her attention to his other ear. "Solaufein?"

"Yes?"

"Can we stay in here all day?"

"You say that," he managed, and groaned. "You say that while you're doing that?"

"You didn't answer," she said, and kissed his temple.

"You know we can't." He framed her face between his hands, and looked into her strange surfacer's eyes, black-lashed and brown. "Later?"

"Of course later." She smiled, and added, "I was teasing you."

"I know," he said, and saw that her smile widened a fraction. "Oh, Kera. I prefer you like this."

The words left his tongue before he thought about them. He wondered if he should apologise, but she moved, pushing herself forward and locking her arms around him. She was small and slim against him, and when he kissed her, her mouth worked desperately against his.

"Kera?" He ran his hands up and down her back. "Kera, did I say something I should not have said?"

"No. I'm sorry. You did nothing wrong." Her smile returned, a little shaky. "Shall we make ourselves go outside then?"

She found Melissan near the charcoal circle that had been last night's fire. Quite deliberately, she took Solaufein's hand, and approached the woman, and asked, "Did you sleep well?"

"Oh. Kera," Melissan said, and smiled brilliantly. "Yes, I did. Thank you. Jaheira was kind enough to give me space in her tent."

Kera nodded. "You've been fed?"

"Yes. And thank you, again."

"You're welcome."

Kera waited until Valygar and Imoen finished packing the supplies, and asked, "Will you be taking the trade roads to Amkethran?"

"I am not certain yet," Melissan answered. "Perhaps."

"Well," Kera said. "You will be careful?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. I will see you in Amkethran, then? All of you?"

"Yes. May I offer you supplies?"

"Oh, no." Melissan smiled. "I could not."

"Please," Jaheira said, and passed across wrapped rations. "Whether to eat or to barter with."

"As you wish." Her eyes flickered, half-closed. "Thank you, Kera."

Kera nodded, and watched as the woman crossed the glade, her steps light and sure against the ground. She watched until the trees hid her, and she did not turn until Solaufein touched her shoulder.

"Kera?"

"Yes," she answered. "No weapons. Trail rations. Shoes that won't last three leagues."

"I noticed." Solaufein's red eyes narrowed. "And prepared to travel alone."

"There is something about her," Kera said quietly. "It's…like looking into a fog and seeing only the palest of outlines. She is not what she appears."

"On that we are agreed, my raven." Haer'Dalis pushed up to his feet. "But what is she?"

"I have no idea. Can't your planar knowledge step in and help?"

"Oh? Wounded, is it? And by so slight a young girl, again."

"Think she'll go south?" Imoen asked.

"I don't know." Kera rubbed one hand across her forehead. "I'm not sure which would be more unsettling. If we meet her there or if we don't."

"A mystery kept in sight is a little less dangerous," Haer'Dalis said.

"I suppose. I just…I don't know. Gromnir didn't trust her."

"Gromnir was mad," her sister remarked.

"Yes, but…Yaga-Shura knew Illasera. Or knew of her, at least. And these two new names. Other Bhaalspawn." She sighed. "I don't know. I'm not making sense."

"Utterly not," Imoen said, and nudged her. "Come on. We won't get any further south standing around."

Her sister was right, she knew, so she made herself move, made herself check the weight of her sword and settled her pack against her shoulders. She fell into step beside Solaufein, and when he touched the back of her hand, she smiled vaguely, but her thoughts were elsewhere.