Certain major characters are not mine, though Lon is mine, among many others. Language and other stuff warning, just to be safe...
--- x x ---
Neverwinter, the Sunken Flagon ---
--- Bishop
The others left soon after that, while Lon looked inside the pitcher again, humming. I would have had more fun getting plastered as well, but... I was more worried than I would admit to anyone but the pup.
He was quiet as well.
Once we were alone, I said with a grin when Lon carefully stood up, "Now this is a change. You drunk, and me sober. You able to walk upstairs?"
With a challenged glint in her eye, she did a forward roll with the pitcher still in her hand, and then poured the last of the ale into her mouth. While she was standing a little too straight to prove her control, I took the pitcher from her hand and checked the room one last time. Lon stepped closer with a grin on her face, looking smug.
With a grin of my own, I threw her over my shoulder. First she hit my backside, and then ripped an impressive belch before getting very still. The booze was still hitting her.
"That's better," I told her, "You're gonna have to be careful if you don't want to start speculation that you don't want me anymore, or Cas either."
"Gods, no," she said in a mutter, before looking for the edges of my fine feathers.
That was very distracting as I carried her through the nearly empty taproom, confirmed by a giggle from her and laughter from Karnwyr. On the way upwards, I toyed with the idea of sobering her up, but I'd missed the giggling for too long now. She insisted we check on Cas for a moment, but he was praying like some paladin statue.
In our room was more giggling and laughter, even if there was sometimes an edge I didn't like. But she went to sleep fairly quickly, and I soon slept as well.
I woke Lon at dawn, wondering how much of a hangover she'd have. Other than a pinched look about her eyes and being a little quiet, she seemed fine.
"Back to the Archives with those Oghmites in veils?" I asked.
"Yes, I guess. Don't wanna really go out as this rumor spreads," she admitted, "the people in the Archives don't seem to get out much."
"If it ain't written down, they don't seem to care about it," I said with a grin. "I think I like that, lately."
The Archives and the priests and scribes who seemed to live there were unchanged, none of them seemed to care much, beyond being excited that one of the Nine was present. The scribe we'd hired actually apologized that he hadn't finished yet.
But today was another day to try to track the past. No one had moved the West Harbor records yet from where we'd left them yesterday, and in a few minutes the scribe came in and began copying the information on those who might have been my birth family.
"I'm not even sure if I want to know," Lon whispered, looking at the stack in front of us.
"How often does it look like we'll have the chance to do this?" I suggested. "We should find out what we can before some deranged planar decides to eat these records."
She smiled and nodded, when I'd hoped for a quip.
Looking over the rolls of people in her home village, I realized how small West Harbor had been. There's been probably twice as many in the rolls of Red Fallow's. West Harbor didn't even have the small inn I remembered from my own childhood. Some records were a bit more consistent, from the births and deaths recorded by the Brother Merring. Working backwards, we found the arrival of the mage Tarmas well over ten years ago.
Elondra, ward of Daeghun was recorded each year in neat writing, along with a few other names now familiar from her stories. When we were back far enough we found the notations for a large death toll after a battle.
The villagers were never told anything about who was fighting, or why. Only what some of them observed of the fighting. Someone, presumably Daeghun, tracked the departure of some surviving uniforms in the direction of Neverwinter. The survivors were trying to recover and heal and rebuild after the asses from the city couldn't even bother to help.
Just charging off again, making me pissed for these locusts' victims. Merring noted the death of Esmerelle Whyntll, mage alchemist, along with Shayla Farlong, complete with a question mark to say her last name was unsure. Lon had been among the worst injured of the survivors; most had fled, or died. From the deaths they'd lost nearly as many as survived. Checking the counts the previous season, more must have plain fled to other, safer, places.
Still estimating the numbers in my head, Lon was staring at the census count for the previous year, noting both herself and her mother noted as living in a different building than Daeghun. The previous year still showed them both, but in the previous year was noted Esmerelle, as making a long term visit with friends. The year before that listed only Daeghun and Shayla.
With a sigh, Lon said, "I was hoping there might be something like, 'Esmerelle, widow of Nedd Whyntll' in the census."
"It did say she was a mage of some kind, and that's new, right?" I said.
"Think we'll find out anything useful about Casavir?" Lon asked, changing the topic.
"Nah. Not much beyond his name and existence," I had to smile. "I'd bet the juicy files are internal to the Hall of Justice, and they won't let us at 'em."
We did check, and of course, the tome covering the residents of the Hall of Justice were complete and had some familiar names, including Cas and Troi, and the ass who'd been there only one year. Throughout Cas's residence, he had no further name, and had first had 'foundling' appended to his name. Not that I doubted his tale, but I was sure they knew more than he did. Other than the fact that he was taken in when he was quite definitely four and a half years old, there wasn't really anything new.
By this time the scribe had finished and presented me with the names and scant records of the dead family of Red Fallow's Watch. I was still looking at the notes, when my stomach rumbled, making my mate's eyes twinkle.
--- x x ---
--- Lon
I'd been wondering whose stomach would complain first, but he'd been strangely intent while we were getting dusty from the old records, so I hadn't said anything. Then I could barely resist saying something, even if Bishop's glare at Karnwyr said he was getting teased anyway.
Our digging hadn't taken as long today, so it was still early afternoon when we left the Archives. I didn't think we'd be back, as we hadn't really found much for Cas or myself. My mother was probably not one of the club here, or Sand would have reacted more to her name or mine. That left finding a way to get into the records of the Hall of Justice, not something done lightly, or in haste. Finding a legitimate reason would be better, even if slower.
We stopped at some tavern that Bishop said had good food, even if I had only visited it on Watch business a few times. One of the wenches looked at us in a way I didn't like, but I was going to have to ignore it.
That made me realize I would have to speak to Nevalle and probably Nasher about the fiasco last night. So I mentioned to Bishop, "I suspect I should report to Nevalle about the Goose and impending scandal."
He looked pissed at that prospect, but didn't object to the idea, so we left for Castle Never. It was a hot day for this close to Harvesttide, and the cooler air inside the castle was a relief.
Nasher was having audiences, in one of the 'smaller' formal chambers, and looking a trifle bored. Nevalle wasn't with him today, but Valga was. She looked less bored.
Moving on, with only a nod to them, I checked the Nine's room, and Nevalle wasn't there either. Neither was there any note saying where he was, so he must have been off duty. I hadn't been sure he ever was away like this, once I'd half thought he'd been poured into his armor when created, like some construct.
Karnwyr was amused, even if he was staying close to Bishop right now. I was trying to decide if we should wait here or in the audience chamber for Nasher, when Bell arrived.
"Whyntll, are you interested in the club, or were you just being polite?" he asked.
"It might be fun once in a while, but I doubt I'd have time in the next few months," I admitted carefully. That they were determinedly against social pressure was a good thing, even aside from letting Neeshka in. "I might need in, just to get Ellon sometimes, from what you said," I finished with a grin.
Smiling wickedly as well, his second admitted, "If if was business of the Nine, there are almost no places in the city you cannot go."
"Where would those be?" I wondered.
"Mostly sanctuaries of a few neutral temples who are not... as cooperative as they perhaps should be, like Silvanus'. Or places which are embassies or are a bit too violent about their privacy like the Cloaktower." Bell's voice hardened when he added, "In emergencies, they are not barred either, and we'll soothe their wounded sensibilities later."
I nodded, wondering if I'd gotten any better at bluffing since the war, and deciding not.
"Why did you report today?" Bell asked, "I understand your next time to report isn't for another two days."
Reminded, I had to swallow before starting, "We realized a possibly dangerous development last night. The new place down in the docks is undercutting and drawing the crowds away from other entertainments, which didn't seem that important overall. But this place is not just being more exciting and a bit cheaper, they are cheating the games in the customers' favor to keep 'em coming."
Bishop interrupted, "And in favor of survival, places like the Mask are shifting their operations to be more predatory..."
"Ah, so that explains part of a rumor I heard at my aunt's little party," Nevalle said with an edge of anger, as he entered the room.
"That wasn't what it appeared!" Flushing, I said, "I was meeting a contact about an unfinished deal. I don't know how much Ophala knows about the whole thing, but the staging of a... business proposal was a bit out of character as well. He usually isn't that obnoxious."
"You've dealt with this festhall dancer before?" Nevalle asked, looking shocked.
"He's not quite a friend," I admitted, "but he taught me some unusual shadowy skills during the war, and the last ones recently. Before, I would have said he was mostly harmless. The problem is the deal may be too much to refuse."
"What is this deal? While we have done things for the city that are not lawful, they are not to be done lightly, nor without council," Nevalle stated, looking to be growing angry again.
Might as well summarize it all, as it was far less damaging than the rumors will be.
"Ophala pretty much admitted a bit back, after checking her own records of a former staff member, that they'd been doctored to remove him. Bringing him back, to resume whatever obstacle he was to the probable mole was the plan, I think," I explained.
Growling, Bishop added, "This is the asshole who staged that scene, using how he knew Lon and the high-price customers in the Mask."
Bell was looking a little puzzled, so Nevalle said flatly, "The juicy gossip is that Lord Bishop hauled Whyntll out of an assignation in the Mask, leaving the fest-boy somewhat damaged."
"I did that to him, well before Bishop caught up, as he sent a... taunt through a friend of mine," I admitted. "But the alarming thing, was that he claimed to have Ophala's approval for the deal." After another breath, I explained, "The deal was for gossip flowing out of the Mask, through him, in a path the mole would not be able to observe. The delivery would be during these scandalous playlets."
"Made more profitable, by the increasing crowds to try to catch the show in person," Bishop grated.
"Ophala does not actually need to make a profit," Nevalle stated, "And she has been the soul of discretion for many years. Whyntll, for the record, you are not to accept this deal until I speak with her about this."
Bishop was still snarling, but I was almost glad to have another reason to refuse.
"This does seem odd," Bell agreed, "but I can't say I like this ripple effect from a new establishment in the docks. I'd noticed Berth's Club and Gold's Keep were quieter of late, but I thought it was just the summer heat."
"Neeshka told me it was affecting most places," I added, "And there's been almost no customers at all at the Flagon for most of our stay this time."
"What about the Leather Apron, Bell?" Nevalle asked.
Bell said, "Perhaps a little slower in the gambling room, but I don't really go there for that, and neither do most of the other members. I'm sure they can find a room to put you up in again if your aunt Berril is a problem this fall." He finished with the nasty grin of an old joke.
Nevalle looked pained, but said, "I wonder how many other establishments, either officially or unofficially, are panicking if they are under this kind of pressure? Giving away money and services is not illegal, but there must be a reason. I may have to speak to the Treasury if it continues, as this ripple effect will affect all of the taverns, inns, and other places of entertainment if this continues. And what will they do as a result?"
There was a few moments of silence as I wondered what he had in mind.
"Whyntll, I think I will be amending your duty schedule because of this, plan on attending the Harvesttide ball," Nevalle said just before we left.
Once out of the castle, I let my annoyance show with an assortment of curse words.
Bishop stopped me, and pulled me close for some kissing in the afternoon shade, by the rise to go over the Dolphin bridge. "Don't really want you hot and bothered by asses like that. You'll be fine, it's not like you can't dump 'em on their asses if they get too bad." He looked around and added with a sly look, "We can go swimming, and give 'em something to disapprove of, especially Pameran."
That did sound like fun, and I nodded, still enjoying the simple feel of holding him with my eyes still shut from the afternoon glare. Then I was realized I was being picked up as much as being pulled really close. Sighing a little, I was further surprised to realize I was moving through the air and falling. Opening my eyes and hearing his laughter, I saw I was about to hit the water.
I did, and it must have been a big splash as I'd been trying to turn in midair and not yell my surprise. Looking up, I could see the Dolphin bridge was quite impressive from the water level, too. But despite my push off the bottom to get air, I couldn't swim quite well enough to make any progress and felt like I was sinking. I really didn't want to lose my chain shirt which was my biggest weight. If I did, I'd make him figure out how to retrieve it from the muck...
Concentrating as I began to sink, I took a 'step to the shadowed ledge above the waterline, and took a breath of air, coughing out some water.
Bishop appeared next to me and was still annoyingly dry, and I resisted the childish urge to push him in. "It would be nicer if I wasn't weighed down by armor."
"But now you know you can do it," he said smugly. "Come on, let's stuff our things into your bag, and get back into the water."
After a glare at him, that's just what we did. While the water wasn't really any cooler than the air, it still felt good. I guess we should've gone closer to the places where ocean water mingled with river water and was cooler. That explained why there weren't any other swimmers at this bridge. Even so, we splashed and wrestled and got a bit muddy, sinking down into the water a few times.
It felt good.
After a while we climbed out of the river, and slogged our way all the way back to the Flagon. We didn't even leave too many mud smears on our way by my uncle, even if we got a few glares from him. Back in our room, more muddy water was compressed out of the fabrics and all over the floor as we started to undress, making me briefly relieved that Pameran must have left for the day. I didn't look forward to the scold.
I could feel some more water and probably muck dripping down my head, and glared at Bishop, but he only seized me and pulled me close, with a chuckle.
--- x x ---
--- Casavir
I had settled into my prayers quickly this time. While I had less of a problem setting aside my problems and fears than I had for other vigils, our lives seemed to hold my attention. Before, my vigils were only colored by and concerned with my duty. Even my last one, hoping to find my lady's location, hopes, and only hopes were present to distract me. I didn't have much then beyond my duties and worries.
Now? Now I'd had my lady's love for months. No, it's been over a year now. Thinking on that, it was nearly a year since our less formal handfasting back at the Keep. And despite a slight worry about his sincerity at the time, Bishop had been... faithful. That was a wonder in its own right, and I gave thanks again to the Morninglord, Shiallia, and Tyr that he was no longer the man I'd first met and hated.
And my lady? I could feel my smile as I remembered her eyes, the taste of her lips, and feel of her in my arms. Just the light of her smile made my days sunny, and we shared more than smiles.
After a time, I remembered that I needed more focus and retrained my thoughts to my prayers and concerns about our autumn duties and our missing foe, Lather. The hours passed and light changed, the smell of the candle burning was only a memory as I thought and prayed.
Even with my care, my thoughts still drifted to my family: my wife and brother. We were still feeling our way, as we had no model to help us in our marriage. I had even less for dealing with and treating with one turning away from evil, even if he had been already sliding over that precipice. We were taught far more about smiting and spurning, and far less about dealing with them as changing and growing. My lady had had some darker times, even as I had, but we recovered with help from our friends. How many others might be saved if more had friends to prevent those slides beyond the point of no return? Then also came the more difficult knowing if that point had been crossed. Elondra had been right about Bishop, and wrong about Qara. She may have even once had hopes for Ammon Jerro, as well. He had more than proven his ruthlessness before we met him over Shandra's body.
We should count our victories, though, both large and small, and rejoice in them. We had a family, of four if you included Karnwyr. Hopefully, we would be as blessed with children in the future. I was coming to suspect that would be, in its time, with the eagerness the pup was displaying, and I found myself smiling at the entire idea of Bishop and the chains of parenthood.
After I wrenched my thoughts back to my hopes for this vigil and learning what He would offer about Lather and his plans. As usually happened, the light finally seemed to fade and time stretched out as I could feel the warmth from His blessing.
I was a little lightheaded as a vision formed before my eyes...
Standing on a low rise by a stream, it was a fresh and breezy autumn day, with a slight nip in the air. The Keep was clearly visible, only a walk away. A gust of breeze, and milkweed pods let loose dozens of silks and seeds to swirl in the breeze along the clear patch in the dirt. They swirled in patterns from the plants and lay of the land, even as they passed though a shadow where some grew darker. A handful of corpse flies flew amongst them.
Even as the breeze ended, another rose, and some of the seed silks skittered along the edge of the shadow, making me uneasy. The many dozens of softly colored silks floated a little further, and into a ditch leading towards the stream. From that ditch more corpse flies flew upward, and looking downward I saw a bleached skull with more flies around it, and knew it was Lather's.
He has been dead for some time, and was no longer a threat. The larger threats now were his allies, unnamed and unwitnessed. As the vision began to fade the corpse flies became wasps and several other forms in rapid succession as one fly seemed to be directing the others and many of the silks were consumed.
I woke from my vision, with my face still stinging, and an unintended swear word already free from my lips.
Sitting upright, I was not as exhausted as I sometimes was, and found I could even stand. I wasn't sure how long I'd been deep in prayer, but it seemed to be daytime, so I exited to return and sleep in our own room.
Opening the door, I saw they were present and embracing, even if covered with muddy streaks and water was dripping on the floor.
My lips quirking into a smile, I said, "There really should have to be a less muddy way for you to entertain yourselves while I was occupied."
--- x ---
A/N: Thanks to my beta readers, who've been kind enough to point out some things. Any typos that remain are not intentional...Reviews or even a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.