Chapter 36 The Waiting
Usual Disclaimers: Most of the characters are owned by a whole lot of other people and not me, other than an occasional NPC and a bear and paladin lovin' ranger, but not necessarily in that order.
Dee went at once to meet Sir Nevalle at his tower when she was informed that he had returned from Neverwinter. She found him talking quietly to Torio Claven, who embraced him then walked quickly towards her quarters. Dee rarely saw him in full battle armor as he was today. There was something resplendent about him, quite unlike his usual foppish appearance. He truly was a knight in shining armor. He pointed at the sword sheathed on Dee's right hip. "That's the famous Sword of Gith? May I see it?"
Dee drew the sword and held it out for Sir Nevalle to examine, though she held it possessively across her chest. "Here it is. I'm still learning how to wield it effectively."
He knit his delicate golden brows as he examined the blade closely then sniffed, "It certainly doesn't look reformed. Why, there are still holes where shards are missing. What holds it together?"
She shrugged, annoyed that he disparaged her sword as if the insult had been directed at herself, even more annoyed than the time he promised that after the war he was going to take her to town and transform her from a country rat into a sleek city mouse. She forgave him that time knowing he hadn't intended it as in insult. "I hold it together. It works well enough for me. All I need to do is to focus." She turned the blade in her hand. "It seems to have a set number of magical charges, but even after those are expended I can will the shards to encircle me like Zhjaeve's Blade Barrier spell, or fly out in a hail at an opponent. I'm still trying to figure out what else it can do."
He looked as if he wanted to touch the sword, but as she hadn't offered it to him he restrained himself by folding his arms across his chest. "I would imagine the Githzerai has been helpful there. How do you get the shards back in place once you send them flying? Isn't there a danger of losing some of them?"
"I only have to find a quiet place where I can concentrate and think about it reforming, and it does." She shrugged, annoyed at not having a better explanation. "The shards fly to me at my will. Mayhap 'tis because I can channel the power of the one inside me. It's as if the blade has become a part of me and answers me."
It had been almost too easy in the end to reform the sword. Zhjaeve had talked her through it in a low monotone and put Dee into a trance as they sat cross-legged on the blighted patch of earth where the sword was destroyed. Though she had closed her eyes to help herself concentrate, in her mind's eye she could see the shards swirling around her and feel their awakening power outside her and radiating from the shard in her chest. She remembered Zhjaeve chanting, "The heart becomes the blade." When she came out of the trance, the reformed sword was laying in her arms, just in time to use against a shadow reaver and its obscene shadow minions, formed from her former friends and neighbors.
He nodded as he listened and she sheathed the sword. He gestured around the Keep. "Your preparations here look to be nearly completed."
She gasped softly at a sudden cramp in her belly that made her want to vomit as it sunk in that the time was nearly here, that she really was going to war, but she answered calmly, "Yes, I think the Keep and my 'Cloaks are as ready as they're going to be."
Nevalle returned a satisfied smile. "Excellent. I will inform Lord Nasher. I'm leaving with my personal guard as soon as my other horse is readied to join with Neverwinter's forces and head to Highcliff to meet the enemy there. My place is at our lord's side." He looked down and said softly, "I've been away from him for too long."
Dee said quietly, "I'm sure he has missed you too."
"Yes." He drew himself up and became the first of the Nine again. "Callum's forces are traveling from Old Owl Well to meet us." He looked at her grim resolve. "We will try to stop them there. If we must retreat, we will fall back and fight them here, so have your troops ready. You have probably a tenday or more of waiting ahead. I don't envy you that, Dee. I can tell you from experience that's the hardest part; I advise you to take this time to make any final arrangements."
Dee swallowed hard before she replied, "I've talked to Brother Ivar about turning the temple into a field hospital, and the Widow Jons and the other Sharessans are staying to help him out with triage. They've been rolling bandages and making potions in their spare time all summer long. We can seal off the windows and most of the doors of the temple, and if we have to, evacuate the wounded into the Keep proper through the tunnel in the cellar."
It turned out that not only the widow, but four of her nine 'entertainers' had taken vows to serve Sharess and had set up a shrine to the goddess in the cellar of the festhall, with the widow serving as high priestess. Dee had heard rumors of their rites that made her blush. Despite the fact that there was no pleasure to be found in the coming battle (other than the satisfaction that comes from helping others), she and those four had decided to stay. Coupled with the spells of the Cormyran sorceress there Sand had taken under his wing, they were a good additional line of defense.
Dee continued, "But for the next few days I'm sending some of the 'Cloaks to help get as much of the harvest as they can in before the undead filth spoils it. Otherwise we'll win this war only to face famine in the winter. I'm sending most of the civilians away tomorrow, and don't worry, I'll make sure your little ward is safely packed off with Sal, my housekeeper, and Miss Claven. The roads are safe enough now, but I'm sending a squad of Greycloaks to escort them to Lady Birney's horse farm and then the rest to Port Llast. What bandits we haven't rounded up or who haven't signed up have pretty much fled for safer environs." She met his eyes as he met hers then grabbed him and gave him a bear hug. "Be careful, Gilles."
He blinked in surprise but returned the hug and added a warm kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry, cous. If I can't be careful, I'll be deadly. You and our fair paladin be careful too. Gods willing, this will all be over soon and we can get back to planning your wedding." He smiled grimly and strode off to his waiting horse.
She swallowed the bile rising in her throat again and whispered as he walked away, "Yes, it will be over soon. That's what I'm afraid of." She scratched Cillian's head, took a deep calming breath and walked back towards the Keep proper.
The Greycloaks at the entrance snapped to attention as she passed. She spotted Wolf showing off the fletchings on his new arrows Daeghun had helped him make to one of his crew. She called out, "Are you packed, lad?" She walked over to meet him and took one of the arrows to examine it. "Hmm. Turkey vulture?"
He nodded, pleased with his work, and hesitated a few heartbeats while she examined the arrow, considering his words. "Captain, if you please, my birthday is comin' up, I'm near a man and well, I'm stayin', and so are most of the others. We're old enough to help out with runnin' for things during the battle, and we can use our bows on the wall." The other boy nodded in agreement.
She could see from the set of his jaw he was determined, and she conceded that he was right. "Very well, lad, but in that case I have another job for you. You know the spider in the Keep's dungeon? If the battle goes against us, I need you to round up your crew and anyone you can and get out through the escape tunnel with her. Go down there and get to know her and learn the way out now. The spider will help you fight if any of the undead army has found its way into the woods, or if you run across any more trolls. They'll need your skill to lead them through the woods and find them food and water there until you get to the road. Then make your way north."
He looked pleased by his new responsibility, but as it sunk in he looked as sickened as Dee had been. He grimaced and saluted her. "Yes, Captain." She smiled and saluted back and entered the Keep.
Kana was waiting for her as usual, and they talked briefly with the representative of a mercenary band who wanted to throw their lot in with hers. Dee had set very high standards for her recruits and had been rejecting mercenaries, criminals, or those who weren't physically fit, but time was short, and they looked more than capable. "You know war's comin' and you still want to sign up? I can't pay you more than the 'Cloaks are getting, and this isn't likely to be a fight like any you've faced before, but if you still want to join us, I welcome your swords. Kana, have them report to Sergeant Jalboun."
Many members of the Keep's staff didn't want to leave either, which wasn't a surprise since most of them were in service there because they were married, related to, or sweethearts of one of the Greycloaks. She addressed them in the great hall about evacuating and found that several of them had been learning to use weapons in their time off. It had been her head cook and baker Hiram's idea, and he explained this to her, acting as their spokesman. She recalled the day he showed up to enlist with his son when she first came to the Keep. It hadn't taken long to show him how easily he could be disarmed and left at the mercy of his opponent. She didn't want to humiliate him again, but better that than have his life on her conscience. There would be enough of that as it was. But she apprised him quickly and noted that his paunch was decidedly reduced, and he no longer had that lost look in his eyes like he was waiting for someone to tell him what to do. She motioned him forward and borrowed one of the guard's long swords.
He faced her with what looked like a large, heavy rolling pin. She nodded at the weapon. "What is that, some kind of cudgel? That's smart, choosing a weapon you're familiar with. Very well then, give us room. Show me what you know." Everyone else quickly retreated to the safety of the perimeter. Dee noticed his son was one of the guards on duty, but this time he stayed at his post though a quick glimpse of his eyes betrayed his anxiousness for his father.
They circled one another, and she observed that the hesitancy he had displayed the first time she faced him was gone. He was confident, but a little confidence can be a dangerous thing. She feinted with her right hand sword and moved to disarm him with her short sword in her left hand, but he saw through the ruse and blocked then followed up with a fierce blow that made her take a step back to dodge it. She followed up and hit him hard with the flat of her long sword, but he was able to swing his cudgel around and prevent her from following with the left. He made up for his lack of grace and speed with brute strength. They continued to trade attacks until Kana shouted, "Hold!"
Dee sheathed her short sword and offered her hand, grinning slyly at him. "I'm impressed, Hiram. You have been practicing. Very well, you've proven your point; you can stay." She called out to the others, "Anyone else who wants to stay can have a go with Kana or Katriona. If they feel you won't be more harm to us than good, we'll see to getting you some light armor too. But understand you'll be kept in reserve. When the battle starts we won't have extra 'Cloaks to spare to protect you, so you better see that you're armed at all times, even if you're just goin' to the privy, and be damned sure you're ready to fight." She returned the sword she had borrowed and watched as a dozen of them lined up without hesitation to follow Kana and Katriona out to the practice field.
She had arranged an early dinner for her companions outside in the cool shade of the grape arbor behind the kitchen garden. Despite the dark fetid clouds creeping up from the Mere, it was a hot, humid day. Everyone was present but Casavir, who was taking a squad on patrol on the surrounding lands, replacing one of the sergeants who slipped on the stairs and wrenched his knee. Dee was subdued, stroking Cillian's head absently, and her mood was contagious. Finally she grew tired of pushing her food around her plate and tapped her goblet with her knife to get their attention. "You all have weighed heavy upon my heart the past few days. Look, I know none of us thought were were going to war when we met up almost two years ago, least of all me. But I'm the Kalach-cha, and this is my fight. I won't think less of anyone who wants to leave tomorrow. With your share of our spoils, you can go anywhere and do whatever you want." She thought, "You can live."
Ammon Jerro predictively snorted; she hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer, and he had nothing to go to anyway but the hells. Zhjaeve reminded her she had come to this plane for this purpose, while Khelgar was quick to object loudly that leaving would be the most dishonorable thing he could do, and added, "I've been waitin' for a fight like this since I met you, Captain."
Qara interrupted Khelgar in a shrill, angry voice, "I suppose your expecting me to leave? I'm the most powerful one here. I say bring the fight! I'm ready for it! Undead burn really well, in case you haven't noticed." She glared at everyone as she drank her wine. Rather than seeing Dee's offer as a chance to escape with her life, Qara inferred yet another insult.
Sand met Dee's eyes and quipped with a smirk, "Then someone has to be here who can mind this little girl. Besides, dear girl, whatever would I do with myself if I wasn't rushing off with you to face some grisly death on a daily basis."
Dee turned to the druidess. "El, what about you? You've done your duty to the Circle of the Mere. Surely you'll serve nature better by beginning another druidic circle somewhere. Your faith is all about life, not war."
Elanee quietly shook her head as she fed a grape to her badger companion. "No, my place is here stopping this blight upon the land and restoring the Balance. If we prevail, there will be a time later for restoring nature."
Bishop shrugged not waiting for her to get to him and drawled, "I don't have much use for coin, and you know I could have left any time I wanted to. I still could." And he thought, "At least that devil who pulls my strings is getting me out of here. I'm gonna live. Can't say the same for you, Captain, and I'm almost sorry for it. But better you than me." He had made what he told Black Garius was to be his last communication because he had to move into the Keep with the inn closing. There was too much chance of getting caught, and if he was he would hang for sure. Garius had only replied, "We shall see, ranger," but after he gave Bishop his instructions to find some way of sabotaging the defenses, he also told him where to find an emergency cache with a small bag of gems and a nondescript ring that was enchanted to bring the wearer to him. Bishop thought, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll be long gone when you're dancing with death."
Dee smiled gratefully at Bishop as he grew quiet. "Thanks, Bish." She thought she saw fear flash in his eyes as they met hers for a brief second, but she told herself he would be stupid not to be afraid.
Neeshka felt like all eyes were on her and she could feel a few beads of sweat running down her neck. Finally she said softly, "Yeah, I thought about heading out for Waterdeep or someplace more civilized like Silverymoon, but ...I'm not gonna run out on a friend, Dee. Don't worry about me, I have my lucky coin!" She didn't add that she had agreed to ferret out any troublemakers for Brother Ivarr. She had her suspicions of who amongst them might be trying to cause trouble, but suspicion was all she had, and thus far she hadn't been able to find proof, and that irked her more than encountering a lock she couldn't open. It was a challenge. She had also discovered that she liked espionage. It gave her the same heady rush she got from pulling off a heist, perhaps more. After the war she was considering offering her services to Lord Nasher's spymaster, and she reasoned she would need a recommendation from Dee.
Grobnar beamed serenely, looking like he was lost in the clouds. "I can't imagine being anywhere else but here at this time, Captain. Why, I simply must be here to finish the epic ballad I'm writing to commemorate the battle. Besides, I've just finished making a harness so I can ride the construct." He also had his own suspicions about a certain member of their company, like Neeshka did; unfortunately both of them had kept their suspicions to themselves, and he had little proof other than the disturbing incident with the construct's password. "No, I've got to be here keeping an eye on him so you have one less thing to worry about, my dear," he thought.
She wiped at her eyes, and her voice quavered as she answered, "Very well, then I'll give you the same advice Sir Nevalle gave me. Write your wills and take care of all your business. From what Nevalle said, we should have a tenday or more before..." She couldn't go on. They nodded at her in silent agreement. They adjourned then, each going his or her own way and lost in their own thoughts.
Kana reported as Dee walked back through the great hall that everyone she and Katriona had tested for weapon proficiency had passed. Dee sighed and reminded her, "Yeah, but the real test is going to be when they face a real enemy. All the 'Cloaks have faced bandits or trolls and orcs. I have half a mind to have Ammon or Zhjaeve summon some undead for them to fight tonight, and then we'll see who's in the wagons tomorrow."
Since for once there weren't several things requiring her immediate attention, Dee excused herself and went to her room, giving Cillian a hug on the way and whispering, "Happy hunting, my love," as he went down the stairs to the lower levels, where he often went outside using the same escape tunnel Kistrel used to go hunt. The bear had his own suspicions, but he kept them to himself because he was unable to share them with anyone but his bonded or the shapeshifter. He didn't trust the wolf-talker, who watched his bonded too closely for his liking, as if sizing her up for a weakness he could take advantage of. Cillian had also caught his scent but not his wolf's in the lower passages on his way out to hunt and was curious what he was doing alone down there.
Dee shut the door. She had been tempted to go through her things and give them away as mementos to members of her staff before they left. Casavir accepted her explanation that they might not come back to work at the Keep once it was safe and she wouldn't see them again. But his eyes betrayed a fleeting doubt, enough of one that she changed her mind, although she had given one of her maids her blue silk bodice because she caught her trying it on, and she gave her housekeeper a few small gems and a gold ring. She bathed and put on Esmerelle's Shou silk robe and drank a goblet of wine while she waited for Casavir though she told herself she should take Blossom for a ride or interrupt the Ironfists to work her forge for a few hours. She told herself she needed to be doing something physical instead of sitting here brooding, yet she remained.
Sand had stopped by and left the familiar potion bottle on the table next to the door as he did every tenday. She grimaced and wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent as she pulled out the stopper and poured it into the wine to make it more palatable. She was about to hold her nose and chug it when she had a sudden thought and set it down on the floor beside her as she dropped to her haunches beside her mother's trunk. Dee ran her fingers lovingly over her mother's initials on the lid. She had forgotten all about the cache of Esmerelle's letters in the hidden compartment, though Esmerelle's gems were long gone, used to fund some of the towers on the road. "What if there's something embarrassing in them, or worse? Wouldn't be right to leave them to be found by just anyone after..." she whispered. After all, something had caused her mother to flee to West Harbor, and Dee had heard rumors aplenty from those who had known Esmerelle.
If Neeshka hadn't shown her where the release mechanism was, she would have been hard pressed to find it on her own; it was that well made. Resorting to more brute force than Neeshka's delicate finesse she pressed hard once she found the latch, which resisted then gave way all of a sudden, throwing her backwards and causing her to bump her goblet. "Shite!" she exclaimed as she grabbed her shirt out of her laundry hamper and mopped up what spilled. She quaffed the rest. She was about to get dressed to ask Sand if she should take another when she saw the packet of letters dangling enticingly on the edge of the open compartment. "I can wait for tomorrow for that nasty stuff," she muttered. "Don't know if there's any point now anyway."
She sat on her bed running her finger along the red ribbon binding them and turning the yellowed packet over in her hands. She drank another goblet of wine and then another, arguing with herself whether she even had a right to read them and whether she shouldn't throw the lot of them into the fireplace and set light to them. "But I have to know. She kept them, so they must've been important to her. There could even be somethin' in them that could tell me who my father is," she reasoned. "My father is Daeghun. Doesn't matter who did the deed with my mother," she argued aloud. "If only Cas was here..." But he wouldn't be back from patrol for at least an hour. While she hesitated turning the packet over and over the old ribbon gave way in her hands, spilling the letters onto her bed. "Well, I guess that's a sign," she whispered as she picked up the closest.
It had been folded tightly, and she could see lines that revealed that it had been refolded as if it had been read many times. When she opened it, she saw that some of the writing was smeared as if it had gotten wet, and Dee felt a chill as she realized it was from her mother's tears. Reading it was like hearing one side of a conversation and trying to infer the rest. She gasped as she saw the signature, which was simply "D," and realized that it must have been written by her mother's friend after whom she was named. The writer chided Esmerelle gently, telling her that she worried too much and promised to give in and retire after "this last haul that will set me up for life." They were supposed to meet in Waterdeep at tavern called 'The Prancing Unicorn' at the first of Greengrass. Daeghun had never talked much about her mother's life, but he had told Dee once that her mother had lost her dearest friend about two years before Dee had been born, and that she was never the same after. It was the first in a string of misfortunes that culminated in Esmerelle fleeing to West Harbor.
She carefully refolded it and picked up another because there was something familiar about the firm, masculine handwriting. She gasped as she recognized it as belonging to the Reverend High Justicar Oleff Uskar, with whom she had corresponded regularly since her trial. A quick perusal of the rest revealed several others in his hand, so she gathered those to read together. They, in fact, made up the majority of the letters. The first two spoke of people and experiences known only to the two of them, but his familiar, gossipy tone told Dee that he was more than a casual acquaintance of her mother's. There were references to other names she had heard. One she recognized as Casavir's father. Another was a bard named Carith Draven who Dee knew had been hanged for high treason and was buried in the Tomb of the Betrayers. Oleff warned her mother sternly in one letter that Draven was a treacherous creature and that she couldn't make him change no matter how hard she tried. A shadow passed over Dee's heart as she thought of how long she had been trying to change Bishop. She banished that thought because this was different; she was right about him, she knew it! She poured another goblet of wine and read on.
In another that was also smeared by tears and showed signs that it had been crumpled up then straightened out and carefully refolded, he wrote two pages worth of gossip and generalities before he worked up to an admonition to Esmerelle to "think of the children you're hurting" and end her dalliance with a married man, whose wife had come to see him. He sounded more like the Oleff Dee knew there. What a strange relationship her mother must have had with him, she mused. His tone was gossipy as a schoolgirl one moment and serious as, well, a judge, the next. For the second time Dee thought of stopping there and burning the rest, but she felt she had to continue. It wasn't as if it was news to her that some of her mother's lovers were married. There were at least four men and their wives in Neverwinter that had come to meet Dee and peer into her face for any resemblance.
She discovered folded together several poems he had written for Esmerelle, who he called his "dear little songbird." Dee didn't know enough about poetry (it hadn't been part of Daeghun's schooling of her) to make a judgment of their merit, but she knew from listening to Amie read from a book of romantic poetry she snuck out of Tarmas's library that they were sonnets. At least she thought they were. She smiled at this hidden side of Oleff, trying to reconcile the image of the stern judge with this writer of flowery romantic poetry. How close he must have felt to her mother to reveal this secret side of himself to her, as well as for her to have kept them hidden away. She had half a mind to show them to Grobnar for a professional evaluation. And then she read one dated about a year before she was born, a passionate erotic sonnet dedicated to her mother―Dee blushed and put it down, but picked it up when she found she couldn't stop reading―it betrayed an intimate knowledge of her as a lover.
Dee considered the date, counted on her fingers, and realized as she poured another goblet of wine he was as likely a candidate as any (and also realized as well this was a motive for his interest in her), but as she read the last, a sad poem about unrequited love, it was clear he knew her mother hadn't shared his feelings. She folded the poems and picked up his last letter, in which he began by explaining he didn't know how to reach her, so he was writing in care of Daeghun in hopes that his hunch was right and that she had gone to him. It was dated about three months before Dee was born and informed her of the trial of Draven and his subsequent hanging. He warned Esmerelle that Draven had implicated her and some others of their bardic company in his plot in an attempt to save himself, but Oleff had managed to convince Lord Nasher she was an innocent victim and had been deceived, "as Lord Nasher himself was, having taken that serpent into his bed," he added. He finished by entreating her sadly to come back to "those who love you and whose hearts break from missing you, I chief among them." She must had never replied as he had no idea she had died in West Harbor two years later until Dee told him.
"I'll have to write him something comforting, maybe mention that she kept his letters before..." She shook her head and carefully refolded his letters and set those aside on her nightstand then picked up and read another and another to get her mind off Casavir, who should have returned by now. But none of these told her anything, except for a short letter from Shayla (Dee was stunned to see from her signature that she had been related to Georg!) thanking her for some things she had sent her from the city and reminding Esmerelle she was always welcome in their home. Some others weren't even signed. There were a few thank-you letters from recipients of Esmerelle's scholarship at the bardic college. Clearly the writers had been important enough in Esmerelle's life that she kept their letters, but they said little to Dee about her mother.
She shook her head as she went to refill her goblet and realized she had drunk the whole bottle, and was feeling its effects. She cursed and set the bottle down. "Becoming a drunk isn't going to help anything," she muttered crossly. Somewhere in her travel bag was a potion that neutralized poisons. She grinned with satisfaction as she found it then quaffed it down. The potion took effect in no time, and she could think with a clear head. "Enough of this sittin' around feelin' sorry for myself." She gathered the rest of the letters along with the letter from her mother's 'Dierdre' and shoved them in her bag then dressed in a tunic and leggings and pulled on her boots and her weapon belt, deciding to force herself to do something productive so she wouldn't brood about the coming war or about Casavir.
Dee was met on her way through the great hall by Cillian, who was back from his hunt and in a grumpy mood because although he had caught a few fish (and something in the tunnel that was crunchy on the outside and gooey on the inside but not all that tasty), he hadn't caught the ranger, just his scent. Dee walked around the Keep making surprise inspections of armor and weapons at the guard stations and along the wall, and was pleased to find none of her 'Cloaks slacking. She walked back through the village watching Jacoby helping Sal board up the windows of the inn and spotted Bevil. But as she got closer she saw he was talking to Katriona, and she wasn't about to interrupt their quiet time together. She smiled and whispered a prayer to Sune for them turned to walk along the row of shrines constructed over the past year.
There were several shrines now clustered together between the temple of Tyr and the barracks, shrines to Tymora, Mystra, and Lathander, as well as one dedicated to the death god. There was an empty shrine waiting for the image of Meilikki. She had paid for clerics to travel to the Keep and bless each of the complete shrines, the cleric of Kelemvor traveling all the way from Waterdeep. Dee entered the shrine; though the prescribed time for mourning for Shandra had passed, she still made small offerings of cedar incense and red wine to the death god every day when she was at the Keep. She reached into her bag and put the rest of the letters in a brazier, added incense from a container beside the god's symbol, and struck a flint to set light to them. She whispered as she watched the flames consume them, "These must have been important to you, mama, so I'm sending them back ."
Kneeling and raising her hands to the level of her chest, palms facing out, she prayed silently for the Neverwintan forces marching towards Highcliff, then for her companions that they wouldn't appear before the death god's throne unless it was their time. It didn't seem right to ask the same for herself. That would be rejecting the destiny written for her that day almost twenty years ago, and she had nearly come to terms with it. Nearly. She knew in her heart she would live long enough to fight the King of Shadows no matter what fate threw at her. But after? Yet it occurred to her as she meditated before the god's symbol that there was something she could do. She brought her palms together, closed her eyes, and reached out to the god with another silent prayer. "Kelemvor, I willingly surrender my life to stop this abomination. But please, let my life be enough. Spare the lives of those I care for."
Whether the god heard her prayer she didn't know, but she sighed softly as if a huge weight was lifted from her. She smiled and stood, whistling for Cillian, and walked back to the Keep.
They had just walked back into her chamber when Casavir arrived from up the back stairs carrying his armor bag, his tunic, cheeks, and trewes thick with marble dust. Dee went to put her arms around him and gasped as she realized where he had been. "Ooh, You've been working on Meilikki!"
He tried to hold her away from himself though his heart wasn't in it. "Indeed I have, my lady, and I am filthy. I don't want to get you dirty. I wanted to finish it before...your birthday." It wasn't really a lie because her birthday was less than a month away and that was his intent. But they were both beginning to avoid the topic of the coming war as much as possible unless they needed to discuss it.. Save that for the War Room. This was their time.
Her eyes widened. "It's finished then?" She threw her arms around him and kissed him despite the dust.
He accepted the kiss but still tried to hold her back. "Yes, I believe I have, finally." Tired as he was from patrol, he wanted to do something to lighten her somber mood of the past few days since they had returned from West Harbor, and so he had sent one of Wolf's crew for his armor bag then chiseled away at the statue all evening until he was satisfied. But that wasn't good enough; then he sought the opinion of his mentor, a few of Veedle's other stonemasons who hadn't left yet, as well as a few curious Ironfists, who walked around it several times before they pronounced it not bad, "fer a hoomin."
Dee squealed with delight, hugged him, and kissed him again. "Ooh, I want to see it! Let's go now!"
Casavir chuckled as she excitedly kissed him lightly all over his face. "I knew you would be pleased. But wouldn't you rather wait until morning when the light is better?"
"No, I'm too excited!" But she observed the shadows of tiredness on his face and thought better of it, although she knew he would give in to her if she pressed him. "Have you even eaten supper, love? You're right, It'll be there in the morning and the light will be better. I'll run down to the kitchen and get you something while you wash up. Then I can thank you properly after you eat."
He flushed because he sighed too loudly with relief and his stomach rumbled too loudly at the mention of food. "Thank you, my love, but don't go to too much trouble. I'll take whatever is on hand in the kitchen." He had wanted nothing more this eve than to bathe then fall asleep with her in his arms, but her last promise pushed all thoughts of sleep from his mind. "Is that a promise? Then hurry back."
Dee smiled at him as she watched him pull his tunic over his head. It occurred to her that this was the first time he had used that endearment, but she said nothing. She left him to his cool bath while she and her grumpy bear went to the kitchen. She slipped into the kitchen quietly so she wouldn't disturb any of the staff, lit a lantern, and tiptoed down the stairs to the cold storage. "What am I going to do about Cas," she asked Cill as she prowled through the cabinets and inside crocks, not really expecting an answer. She couldn't bear to think of Casavir grieving alone when she was gone. How long would it be before he was back somewhere like Old Owl Well? That was her greatest fear.
She thought about it as she took a knife and sliced a beef roast thinly the way he liked it and added some aged cheese, tossing slices to Cillian too. There wasn't anyone she could think of who would make a good match for him. Kana? No, surely not. She sliced some more meat for herself and heard footfalls on the stairs as she spread some barley bread with mustard. Her hand reflectively went to her sword hilt, but it was only Hiram, who stood at the bottom of the stairs holding his cudgel in a defensive position. She gave him an embarrassed grin. "Sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Cas hasn't eaten since this morning."
"Figured it was just someone down for a snack, Captain. Your furry friend there comes down here all the time lookin' for leftovers. And those kids are always looking for cookies, and that warlock too, but you can't be too careful." He opened up a cupboard and produced a meaty bone for Cillian, who looked rather sheepish at being found out.
Dee chuckled at the thought and cleaned up after herself. "Ammon Jerro raids the cookie hoard at night?"
"Oh yes, Captain, on a regular basis. Especially when I've made ginger snaps. Here, take a few back to your lord." He reached for a crock on a high shelf and winced with pain.
She recalled wistfully that those had been Shandra's favorites too. She saw him grimace as he pulled down the crock. "Still sore from this afternoon?" She walked over and put her hand on his shoulder and prayed for Mielikki's healing power.
He stretched and rotated his arm, testing the healing. "Thanks, Captain, I feel good as new. There's some peaches and cream left over here. Why don't you take that too?"
She carried her tray back up the stairs and resumed her thoughts of matchmaking. "Neesh? No, she's not his type, but I'll ask Neesh and Sand to take care of him, keep him from brooding too much. Khel too, and Nevalle." She paused as she balanced the tray on one arm so she could open the door and waited as Cillian ambled in before her. She thought, "Mayhap I should ask for Oleff's help too. It wouldn't be too much to ask him to watch over my love for me."
Casavir had just finished bathing by the time she returned and was waiting for her in their bed, fighting sleep and propped up against the headboard with pillows, his arms folded behind his head. He smiled at her as she walked in and kicked the door shut behind her. She smiled back and took him in, her eyes traveling from his handsome face down his broad chest to the rippling muscles of his abdomen, though with just enough of the sheet covering him for modesty. There was enough dampness from his bath remaining to bring out the wave to his hair and make the dark hair on his broad muscular chest glisten. "He has come so far since last winter when he would pull the sheet up to his neck to hide his nakedness from me," she mused as she set the tray down on the bedside table. Cillian made himself comfortable on the hideous rug in front of the fireplace while Casavir moved aside for her and patted the bed.
"Hungry?" she asked as she sat on the bed and pulled off her boots, then her tunic and her leggings.
He watched her as she undressed, making no move towards the tray of food. "Famished." He replied, his voice husky with desire.
"See anything you want?" She turned her head and smiled seductively then shed her small clothes slowly for his entertainment while she willed herself not to think of how little time they likely had left. She thought as she slipped into his arms and received the first of many ardent kisses, "When I'm with him like this I can forget everything, at least for a few golden moments."
Afterwards they sat on the bed facing one another with the tray between them eating and talking. She told him about her meeting with Nevalle and the rest of her day. He told her his squad had run into a few trolls, which had infested the hills around the Keep lately. They discussed whether the creatures were fleeing the shadow or were merely the advance troops. Casavir looked at the yellowed letters on the night stand as he reached for the water jug. He had noticed them as he got into bed to wait for her, but he would never think of reading anything of hers unless she asked him to. Yet he was curious, and that got the better of his reservations. "What are these, Dee? They look very old."
"They were hidden in my mother's trunk. Would you like to read them?" As she handed them to him, he also recognized the hand of the High Justicar and raised an eyebrow.
She watched him as he read, smiling at how quickly he blushed and put aside the erotic poem. "What do you think, love? Should I let him know she kept his letters and offer to send them back to him? I think mayhap he suspects he's my father because of the timing of my birth. We both know he was one of many though. It's awkward too, because Daeghun is my father. Still, Oleff obviously cared for her deeply."
He rubbed his chin as he thought about it. "Yes, by all means, write to him. You need not say anything other than mentioning finding the hidden letters. He won't likely be with Neverwinter's forces at Highcliff at his age. I would imagine he's still in the city helping with the administration and the defenses. But it wouldn't hurt to write out something while you have time mentioning them and asking if he would like them returned. I would imagine he, like us, is waiting for news from Highcliff, with not much else to do." He stretched over her and put them back on her nightstand.
"While I can, you mean." She chuckled dryly then took a quaff of water and set the tray aside too. "I will write him tomorrow. I have plenty of time. There's only so many times I can inspect the 'Cloaks. I'll do it after I help cut the wheat. Nevalle was right, this waiting for word is gonna be torture."
He stifled a yawn while he straightened out the tangled bedding and stretched out on the bed. "We will have to busy ourselves to keep our minds off it then, my love. Perhaps I shall join you in the fields tomorrow. We should get some sleep."
Dee turned over and blew out the lantern then snuggled under the covers against his chest as he wrapped his arm around her, trying not to feel depressed by his second use of that particular endearment. "Yes, let's."
The wagons pulled out of the Keep at midmorning the next day, and Dee was pleased to see that three of the twelve that had wanted to stay thought better of it once faced with the prospect of being trapped here (and she hadn't even had to resort to conjured skeletons to do it). That afternoon with the help of a few of Veedle's men who had opted to stay to help with any repairs (Master Veedle himself was in the first wagon out), Casavir moved the image of Meilikki into the shrine prepared for it. There was no time to send for a cleric to consecrate the shrine, not that there were any clergy of Meilikki in Neverwinter anyway. The closest was in Silverymoon, so Dee consecrated the shrine herself, consulting Aldanon and Brother Ivarr for instructions on the proper way to conduct the ritual.
The next tenday passed like a dream. Dee wrote three drafts of the letter to the High Justicar before she was satisfied with it then sent it off with an acolyte who was delivering correspondence to the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter. A year before they had lived leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world, but now life was a frenzy of activity, of trying to accomplish the things everyone wanted or needed to do before...It was strange walking by the boarded up houses, merchant shops, and the inn. The festhall was still open for now (and busier than ever with off-duty Greycloaks) though the windows there too were boarded up. They had put so much effort and gold into rebuilding the village, and Dee had to ask herself if it had been worth it. There was no word from Highcliff, but the eerie gloom was growing stronger each day.
Then about twelve days after Sir Nevalle had left for Highcliff a guard who was stationed on the wall and equipped with a spyglass shouted that riders were coming at a gallop. "One looks to wear the device of the Nine," he shouted. Dee, followed by Casavir and Sand, hurried to the gates to meet the riders. Nevalle and his guard raced into the Keep, their horses frothy and nearly dropping from exhaustion. He looked nothing like the shining knight who had left. His surcoat was torn and bloody, his armor was dull and dented, and his perfect hair was greasy and plastered to his head when he removed his helm. Dee could see from his dark, frantic expression his news wasn't good.
He nearly fell off his horse and didn't wait for her to ask. "We were...overcome. There were waves upon waves of skeletons, zombies, and worse. Much worse..." He shuddered at the recollection of the horror. "We were forced to retreat. And Lord Nasher..." He struggled with tears as Dee gasped, "No!"