Chapter LIII: Wild Echoes Flying
They had made enough progress that they were only a few hours out from Amkethran when they finally stopped for the night. They had set up camp with hardly any talking, Anomen had begun to cook dinner with the supplies Haer'Dalis had 'claimed' from the army's reserves, and Harrian had spent more time than probably necessary tending to the horses, away from the others.
Nobody spoke as the food was eaten. Harrian had emerged from the shadows to take a bowl of slop cooked by Anomen, and they had all sat about the camp fire in a grim, unsociable silence. Once the dinner was finally over, Haer'Dalis had, for possibly the first time, displayed a degree of tact. His lute had come out, and although there were no songs, the music had at least broken the horribly tight, choking tension settled upon them.
It wasn't enough, but it put off anybody breaking until Harrian finally stood up, stretched, and, without looking at anyone, declared, "I'm going to bed."
There was silence again, but only for a moment as Reynald got to his feet. "Very well," the fallen paladin said at last, frowning slightly. "But I have a suggestion to make. Considering the events of today, and yesterday."
Nobody needed to ask about the truth of the day before.
Harrian blinked, not meeting Reynald's gaze. "You can make a suggestion," he said falteringly.
"You're too kind," Reynald answered, his voice slightly strained. Haer'Dalis began to play a little louder. "But perhaps I chose my words poorly. This is slightly more than a suggestion."
Yet another pause as Harrian blinked. "Yes? What is it?"
Reynald hesitated for a moment, then turned away to briefly head over to his pack, at that point in time resting next to his equipment just outside his tent. Haer'Dalis played on as Reynald shuffled around in his bag before finally emerged with a length of rope. "I think you should be tied up when you go to bed."
Haer'Dalis's fingers hit the wrong strings, and a painful, misplaced chord rang across the camp site. None of the others dared speak up as Harrian and Reynald stared at each other seriously and grimly for long moments.
Then, finally, Harrian let out a short bark of a laugh, and waved a hand dismissively. "I'm flattered, Reynald, but I really don't think of you in that…"
"This isn't a joke!"
He'd never raised his voice to any of them before. Never spoken with anything other than well-measured, long-contemplated control. So for Reynald's voice to ring out so loudly across the camp site brought a flinch from all, and killed the smile on Harrian's face.
Haer'Dalis, slowly, falteringly, began to play his lute again.
"Then it's a damn good bit of stupidity," Harrian said, his voice catching.
"It's necessary." Reynald stepped forward, his whole body taut. "After what happened today? And yesterday? Bhaal running rampant within your head and without? I – don't – trust – you. I don't want to try and sleep at night with the possibility there that you might wake up and decide to kill us all."
Anomen stood slowly. "I think you might be overreacting…"
"Do you?" Reynald whirled to face him. "Do you honestly think that, or are you just too damn afraid to do something about this? Do you remember what happened today? Do you remember what the lot of us did today?"
"Yes, but it…"
"It was Bhaal, you insipid, blindly-loyal, fool! You might not want to recognise the truth of this God of Murder because then you'd have to acknowledge that it might affect her as well, but that doesn't make it any less real!" Reynald ranted, waving a hand at Imoen, who looked rather as if she'd prefer to be somewhere else. "And today, Bhaal drove us to a victory and a massacre."
Harrian's eyes darkened. "I find it amusing that you, Reynald, seem to be the quickest to pin our actions today on Bhaal. After all, you're the only one amongst us with dark deeds to his name in the past which cannot be pinned on a dead God."
Anomen had always known Harrian to be fast, but it seemed even the Bhaalspawn wasn't quick enough for Reynald's retaliation. There was just a brief flash of movement from the tall warrior, a thump of the sound of flesh on flesh, and Harrian fell to the ground, clutching his jaw.
"Don't you ever say anything like that again!" Reynald snarled, standing over Harrian, fist clenched.
Sarevok stood now, stepping forward to grab the livid fallen paladin by the shoulder, hauling him back. "Enough! Fighting will solve nothing here!" his deep voice boomed across the camp site. Haer'Dalis was playing louder and faster now, in a southern dancing song that would, under other circumstances, have them instinctively up and dancing jigs.
Reynald pulled away from Sarevok, and began to pace irritably in the background as the huge warrior looked at them all. "I, alone of all of us, did not have Bhaal tempting me today. I can only imagine why not, though perhaps it would be because he has already succeeded at destroying me completely; why bother again?" There was a grim, dark humour to his words and his expression. "But I saw it all today. I heard it, somewhat. Heard enough to know that it was Bhaal driving the army, not our own, personal demons."
"Exactly as I said. Harrian, you're tumbling faster and faster here, and I don't trust you," Reynald mumbled from behind Sarevok.
Harrian had clambered to his feet by now, and gave Jaheira, Imoen, and Anomen slightly frantic glances which none of them could return. "Then leave!" he snapped at Reynald. "I didn't ask you to come along! This is my quest, my destiny! If you don't like it, you're free to go!"
"I think most of us are here right now to try and help you through this so that it ends… and to watch you so you don't hurt anyone else."
Harrian froze as Imoen spoke, turning to face her numbly. He had never looked more lost than he did in that moment. "I… what about you?" There was a pause, and his voice found more strength. "Who's to say that you won't do anything? Why is nobody watching you?" He stepped back, waving a hand at Imoen and facing Reynald and Anomen. "Why the hell don't you get worried that she's going to go off the rails?"
"Because she hasn't hurt any of us," Anomen said quietly, miserably, looking down. "You have."
Again, Harrian froze, staring at Anomen with disbelief. "You…" His expression darkened. "What, did you keep that one in your pocket until you had to use it against me?" His words were resentful, but weak, and it was clear not even he believed them.
"I had hoped, Harrian, that you would be more vigilant after what happened yesterday. I foolishly believed that we could watch you, but that you might be more capable of watching yourself. I…" Anomen's voice trailed off, and he finally met his friend's gaze. "I didn't want to believe that it could be… be this bad."
Haer'Dalis's music had slowed down now, descending into a leisurely, cheerful ballad.
"But today, I think we all saw that we can't get complacent," Imoen said quietly. "We all felt Bhaal today. And… and we know, now, how impossible it is to just trust that he won't grab hold of you… or me." Her expression was regretful as Harrian gave her a brief, questioning look.
"Tomorrow, we'll kill Balthazar," Sarevok said grimly. "The last of the Five, the sole remaining member of the Eight. And then… then, I suppose, it will be time for destiny."
"I'm with you until the end, Harrian," Reynald said, looking up from where he'd been glaring off to the horizon. "But until this end comes, I can't trust you." He paused, frowning. "Sorry, my friend. I phrased that badly. I can't trust Bhaal. And I don't trust you to fight him off. Not after today. Not if you can have that effect on thousands of men. Not if you can… not if you can do that to us. When this is over, at the end of all things, when Bhaal may be defeated as the Prophecies suggest he will be and this may all be over… then I will trust you fully."
"Until then, it might be wise if we didn't…" Anomen stopped, his voice trailing off as he searched for the words.
"Leave you to your own devices." Sarevok folded his arms across his chest.
"Stick me in a cage and only let me out when you need something killing," Harrian said bitterly. But the defensive anger, the fury fuelled by disbelief and denial, was fading. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he mumbled at last, weakly.
"We know." Anomen stood up, stepping forward. "But it did."
Harrian frowned, his gaze turning back towards the darkness, Amkethran surely lying somewhere leagues across the desert. "If you don't mind, I'm going for a walk. Feel free to stab me if I turn up back here ranting about death," he said, his voice sounding empty as, finally, his legs found strength and he headed towards the perimeter of the camp, stumbling a little.
Once he had disappeared into the darkness, Reynald turned to face the two party members who had not yet spoken. "Neither of you had anything to add to the situation?"
Haer'Dalis glanced up, still playing. "I have not been present for half of the exciting drama that has taken place over the last tenday, my hound," he said lightly. "It would be poor of me to judge without knowledge."
Jaheira lifted her eyes to meet Reynald's questioning gaze. "I had nothing to say for public ears that you had not already covered," she said wearily, getting to her feet. "The rest… now I must say it alone."
"He'll probably be with the horses," Imoen muttered, and Jaheira nodded slowly as she set out in Harrian's wake, slowly with hesitation but firm in purpose.
Harrian was, indeed, lurking by where their mounts had been tethered for the night, and were now drinking from the ample water supply they had brought with them. "Should have known you'd have something to say for yourself soon enough," he murmured, stepping out from the shadows of the horses to face her, little more than a dark shape in the gloom of night, away from the illuminating camp fire.
"I think there is much we should discuss that I would prefer the others were not completely privy to," Jaheira said wryly, walking over to him with a note of hesitation.
Harrian nodded, looking resigned. "Go on, then." He frowned at her look of brief confusion. "Say what you have to say. Condemn me. Confirm me as a monster you cannot bear to be around. Mark me as a child of murder beyond help."
"You're not beyond help," Jaheira said instinctively, sharply, looking up at him. "And once this is all over… however it may end… you'll be free of Bhaal. It has to be so. The Prophecies say so."
"Unless I help him rise to power," Harrian muttered.
"I don't believe that. You're a good man, Harrian…" Jaheira's voice trailed off, and she glanced away. "But now I understand how Bhaal affects you, after today. I had thought… perhaps… that it was a transformation. That you took leave of your senses." Finally, grudgingly, she met his gaze. "I see now that all Bhaal does is take the darkness within us and bring it to the surface. He tells us whatever he needs to for us to listen to the shadows of our soul. And then those shadows win."
Harrian didn't say anything, only looked away, nodding slightly.
"And I don't trust, like the others, that you can keep him under control any more. The essence is stronger in you, now Sendai and Abazigal are dead. It's been mounting up, and now I don't think you can halfway control it." Jaheira closed her eyes. "And I don't trust that you won't influence us any more. If you are without us… if you don't have the rest of us to stop you, keep you in line, then you may truly end up lost. And us along with you."
"Sarevok was unaffected," was all Harrian could mumble weakly, in the tone of a man who knows the battle is already lost.
"I know. And that is why I am here. The men today… believed in you, entirely. They were willing to follow you to the Hells. The party has already done that." Jaheira gave a sad, humourless smile. "Except for Sarevok. Perhaps it was for his connection to Bhaal already, perhaps it is because his soul is… different." Her lip curled slightly at the delicately chosen word. "Or perhaps it is because he is here more for curiosity than loyalty. So you do not have the same sway over him."
Harrian straightened up, looking her in the eye. "So what, exactly, are you saying?" he asked, knowing the answer.
She didn't answer for a long moment, only met his gaze before turning away. "I am sorry that it is not just for hope of maintaining some control that I'm pushing you away. I wish it were just so I could keep a level head when everyone turns to madness, so as to keep you and the others safe." Jaheira said quietly. "But it is not just that. I admit it… I am afraid." There was a pause, a pause broken only by the music of Haer'Dalis from the camp site wafting over softly in the wind. "And you never made me feel afraid before today."
Harrian stared after her as she began to walk away, his knees going weak as he could feel her slipping out of his grasp. He took a tentative step forwards, desperation in his voice when he finally called out. "No… no. Jaheira, you can't… I need you! I need you to be more than just… around, I need you…"
She didn't stop walking.
"Please!" His voice caught, but his legs refused to let him follow her. "I love you…"
This time, Jaheira did stop, pausing briefly to glance over her shoulder, her expression sad. "I know," she said ruefully. "But love cannot change a thing."
And with those words, she stepped back into the light of the camp site, where the others were now pretending to be light of mood with Haer'Dalis' music, where the inevitable fights of the following days were being ignored, and leaving Harrian behind in the darkness with a gap in his soul.
