55. What You Fight For
Kail closed her eyes, and let her body sink further into the bathtub. She had graciously allowed everybody to bathe before her, in recognition of all the hard work they'd put into destroying Garius and his plans. Luckily, while they'd been gone, Duncan had seen fit to put two more bath tubs in the bathroom, so bathing everybody was three times quicker. Elanee, Shandra and Neeshka had been first, followed by Grobnar, Casavir and Khelgar. Qara had insisted on bathing alone, as had Sand, which also left Bishop to bathe in peace. Now it was her turn, and she was determined to scrub herself until her skin was immaculately clean.
As soon as they had returned to Neverwinter, Vale had insisted on reporting to Lord Nasher. She had left him to it. Her priorities did not include debriefing the Lord while she smelt of blood and sweat, and was covered with dust and mud. If Nasher wanted to see her, he knew where he could find her.
It was amazing how a simple tub of hot water could make her feel human again. How it could seem to wash away all of her problems, as she washed away the dirt from her body. The hot water made her feel cleansed, in body and mind, and she made a mental note to have a good soak in the bath more often.
Once she was clean, and the water had started to cool, she stepped out of the bath and rubbed herself dry with her towel. Then she dressed in a clean change of clothes; brown trousers and a simple white laced shirt. Today, she was Kail, formerly of West Harbor. Kail, bard extraordinaire, squire errant, hero of Neverwinter, was having the rest of the day off.
Steam rolled out into the corridor when she opened the bathroom door. She took her dirty clothes back to her room, stayed there long enough to run a comb through her hair, which had grown to just below her shoulders again, then made her way to the common room.
Her newly-clean friends had taken their usual places in the room; Khelgar was at the bar, with Grobnar tinkering with something further away. Bishop was in front of the fire with Karnwyr by his feet, and Qara was sat at a nearby table. Elanee and Casavir had claimed another table, while Neeshka worked at mending a shirt on another chair by the fire. Shandra sat at a table, staring into her glass of ale as if it contained all the answers to life's questions. Of Sand there was no sign. She wandered over to Shandra's table, and slid into a seat opposite the other woman.
"Are you alright? You look a little lost again," she said. That was usually the case, when you were trying to find answers in the bottom of a tankard of ale.
"Well... yes. Look, I'm sorry I got mad at you before," Shandra replied. "It's just that sometimes I don't think you understand what it's like, being a farmer out in the middle of nowhere, and then having all... this... happening."
"I may not have been a farmer myself, but I did grow up in a tiny farming community. I know how difficult it is sometimes, especially when you don't have much experience to fall back on. It's hard, now, but it will get better in time."
"I hope so. Anyway, I didn't mean to get angry and lose my temper with you all those times before. There wasn't any call for it."
"No harm done," she shrugged. "Forget about it."
"Alright then. Fresh start. Still, I'm sorry... I promise I'll try harder in the future."
"Just do your best. That's all I ask of anyone." Shandra smiled at her. "What can you tell me about Ammon Jerro?" she asked. It was about time she started putting a little more effort into finding his Haven, she decided.
"Not much more than I've already told you. He was my grandfather. I heard he was a little eccentric, but harmless. He died a long time ago. My mother told me that he saw me a few times as a babe, but I was too young to remember. Mother said that he would cradle me and sing to me, and that I would... uh, well, pull his beard hairs out."
"Why would a 'harmless' wizard create a lethal Haven?" she mused.
"Well, I thought it was just a story. You know, make believe? And wizards do protect their towers. I thought she was just exaggerating. I mean, the whole 'inescapable deathtrap' and 'thousands of spiders from the abyss' thing... it was hard to take my mother seriously when she said things like that."
"Do you have any idea where his Haven might be?"
"I've been thinking about it, but I honestly have no idea where it is. I doubt it would help much anyway. And the whole idea of having to spill my blood to get in there... well, I'm not in any real hurry to find it either."
"Does it have to be Jerro Blood?"
"That's what my mother said. I wouldn't mind trying other people's blood first, if they want to volunteer. Maybe we could bleed Bishop, try it out first?"
"The way you're going, girl, I think we'll have more than enough of your blood when we find this Haven... if we ever do," said Bishop from his chair by the fire.
"His hearing's a little too sharp," said Shandra, lowering her voice. "Still, mother was pretty insistent on the blood part. And a whole pint of it... that's a little much."
"It was probably an exaggeration," Kail suggested.
"Yeah, probably."
"Ah, you're finished with your bath. Excellent. I have something for you," said Sand, approaching the table with his hands behind his back. She hadn't even seen him enter the room.
"What is it?"
He handed her a large rectangular object, wrapped in leather. She peeled back the wrapping to reveal a book, with a cover made out of... what appeared to be overlapping red scales. On the front was a symbol that she didn't recognise, and when she opened the book, the text covering the pages was equally unrecognisable.
"Here, you'll need this as well." He gave her a smaller book, entitled 'Translating Draconic Dialects'. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"It's been sat in the store room of my shop. I bought it a century or two ago from a traveller who claimed that it came from an enclave of Dragon Disciples. I tested the skin, and it's genuine dragon scale... probably from the corpse of a dragon that died of natural causes, since I doubt any Disciple would be foolish enough to kill a dragon themselves."
"Thank you. This must be extremely rare and valuable! What do I owe you for it?"
"Nothing at all. Consider it a gift. All I ask is that you put it to good use."
"Oh, I will. I'll start right away. And thank you!" He simply smiled at her, and slipped into a seat at the table beside Casavir and Elanee. Kail carried both books to a chair close to the fire, and opened the scale-bound book to the first page. She sat cross-legged, placed the book in her lap, and began scanning the second book for the corresponding symbols and their meanings. After some time of her muttering to herself, Grobnar brought her some paper and a quill, for which she absently thanked him.
Translation occurred slowly, because the Dialect book was so fascinating, that she spent more time studying that than the scale-bound book itself. When she at last looked up, there was only Casavir, Bishop, Khelgar and her Uncle left in the common room, and the fire was considerably lower than it had been before. Khelgar was snoring quite loudly with his head resting in his arms at the bar, and her Uncle looked thoroughly fed up.
"Are you finished, lass?" Duncan asked when he noticed her looking around. "I closed the tavern ages ago... even Fenton and Weasel have gone to bed. If you need anything now, you'll have to get it yourself, because unlike you, I need my beauty sleep."
"I'm sorry, Duncan," she said, feeling genuine guilt that she had kept him from his bed. Ever since she had arrived in Neverwinter, a stranger, he had treated her like long lost kin, even though she wasn't related to him by blood.
"Don't worry about it. But you should get some rest too, you know. You've had a hectic ten-day."
"I'm not tired yet... and these books are too interesting for me to put down."
"Alright. Well, sleep well, when you do eventually get back to your room." He took off his apron, hung it over the bar, and trudged wearily from the room for all the world as if he was the one who had just marched to Crossroad Keep, defeated Garius, and marched back, in only two days.
"I will be getting to bed now too," said Casavir. "And I will put Khelgar in his. If you have need of anything, my lady, you know where my room is."
"Thanks. I'll be fine," she assured him. Then she watched him pick up Khelgar and half-carry, half-drag him to the back rooms.
"That sounded like an invitation," said Bishop.
"He was just being polite. Some men are like that," she said with the sweetest smile she could muster, and turned back to her books.
"Ha. You've lived your life in a swamp, and now you're the voice of worldly experience when it comes to men?"
She sighed and closed the books. So much for the chance of more studying tonight. In the common room, at least. Perhaps she could get some reading done by candle light, in her room. But she wasn't quite ready to let his barb pass.
"So. Which part of the Mere are you from?" she asked, giving him her most innocent look.
"What makes you think I come from any part of that soggy cesspool?"
"I was born in the Mere. I grew up in it. Do you think I could sit here and talk to somebody else who was born and raised in the Mere, and not even recognise it? Apart from Cormick, I haven't heard a Mere accent since I left West Harbor. Yours may be extremely faint, but it's there. At least to somebody who is trained to identify tone and inflection."
"You've obviously given this a lot of thought. I'm flattered," he said, leaning back and placing his arms behind his head. Karnwyr watched the exchange with one of his usual canine grins. She was sure he somehow understood every word of what was being said.
"Hardly. It was just something I noticed the first time I met you. I haven't given it a second of thought since then, and had you not brought up the subject just now, I wouldn't have thought about it ever again." That was a lie... a small one, perhaps. It was true that for quite some time she hadn't given any thought to it. But once Duncan had told her about her mother, about how she would often leave West Harbor for days at a time, and came back one day with child... she had wondered about who her father was. He could have been a travelling merchant, or he could have been somebody who worked in the Mere, or lived in it. He could even have been somebody from a druidic circle, although she doubted that, as Elanee would have mentioned it. Probably.
So she had tried to work out how she could possibly find out a little more about her father. Her real father. She had considered asking Elanee -- after all, the Elf knew more of the Mere than she, and she likely knew of other settlements within it. But she didn't want to raise Elanee's suspicions, she didn't want the druid poking around in her life any more than she already had. So she had considered asking Bishop, who was obviously from the Mere himself, and undoubtedly had knowledge of it that she did not. But since he had never mentioned the Mere, or home, she suspected he might be trying to keep it secret. Or at the very least, private. She hadn't been willing to intrude on that privacy, until now. Home was a touchy subject in their group; Shandra had lost hers, Neeshka had never truly had one, Khelgar had only just re-found his, Sand had been forced to flee from his, and Elanee was still searching for signs of hers.
"Whilst I count your uncharacteristic silence as a blessing, I still expect an answer," she told him. "After all, I answered your last question, if you recall."
"I also recall that I had to get you into my arms before you'd answer. I think your question at least warrants the same treatment."
He obviously expected her to reject his terms, to scoff at them, or be insulted. Instead, she stood, placed her books carefully on the chair, and held out her hands.
"What's the matter? Can't put your money where your mouth is?" she asked when he didn't move.
"No, I'm just trying to figure out if you'll be able to get a blade in my back from here," he said. Then he stood, took her arms, and wrapped his around her, just as he had when they'd danced following her victory celebration over Lorne. "Dancing is never the same, without music," he sighed.
"Well I'm not going to wake Grobnar just so you can have music. And now that you've failed to distract me with how clean you smell -- for once -- tell me your answer."
"Alright," he conceded, tightening his grip and pulling her closer to him. "You were right. I am from the Mere. But my home is no longer on any maps."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not there anymore."
"What happened to it?" She was infinitely thankful that she hadn't had anything to drink tonight. Her body was making highly inappropriate suggestions which her mind was doing its best to ignore.
"The Mere reclaimed it."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. The Mere is a treacherous place. Now, am I going to bed, or are you going to make me a better offer?
"You're going to bed."
"Shame. You feel tense. Here, and here," he said, running one hand down her neck to the top of her shoulder. "I can help you with that, if you like. Inflicting pain isn't the only thing I do... I can also take it away."
"You're a real Healer," she said sarcastically, shaking her hand free of his grip and stepping back to reclaim her books.
"Alright, suit yourself. But if you have need of anything, 'my lady', you know where my room is. And unlike the paladin, I'm not just being polite."
As he left, she sank back into the seat with a shake of her head. She was fairly sure that he was bluffing, that if she actually turned up outside his room, he'd swear at her for waking him up, tell her that she was flattering herself, and insist she go back to her own room. But that was one challenge she wasn't going to accept. After all, she was only fairly certain.
Still, tonight had been a victory, however small. And you had to take your victories where you could get them.
o - o - o - o - o
"That was the best night's sleep I've had in days. But I don't remember going to bed."
"You were probably too drunk to remember, Moss Breath."
Kail opened her eyes as Khelgar and Neeshka came into the common room. Sunlight was filtering through the windows of the Flagon. It seemed the storm had passed, and she had fallen asleep in her chair beside the fire.
"I can't believe you slept in that thing," said Neeshka, sinking down into the opposite chair. Kail rolled her shoulders, and felt knots in the muscles of her neck.
"This is doing nothing for my posture," she groaned.
"I've noticed that tall folk often have bad posture," said Khelgar. "I reckon it comes from spending too much time looking at the ground."
"For me, it comes from spending too much time sleeping in bad positions on chairs and on hard floors. And I was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed for once, too."
"Morning, folks," said Sal, stepping out of the kitchen. She hadn't even heard the man go in there. He must have been extremely quiet, so as not to wake her... either that or he'd spent the entire night in there. Knowing Sal, that was a possibility.
"Morning, Sal," she replied. "What's for breakfast today?"
"Bacon, eggs, sausages, toast and fried tomatoes. Healthy stuff that every adventurer needs after foiling the schemes of evil wizards," he explained as he unlocked the front door and opened it to let fresh air in.
"Sounds great. Is anyone else up yet?"
"Elanee was up just after me. She's out back, sitting on that patch of grass that she likes so much. Meditating, I think. Bishop went out with that wolf of his not long after. Not sure where he's gone. Fenton and Weasel left too, I think on work-related business. Your Uncle's over in the market, catching up on gossip."
"Casavir's awake, but still in his room," said Neeshka, pulling her face.
"And how do you know that?" Kail grinned suggestively.
"His room is right next to mine, and I can hear him praying every morning and night. It's enough to drive a person crazy, I tell you."
"You think that's bad," said Khelgar, "You oughta try sleeping in the room next door to the Gnome. With his constant tinkering, and the sound of small explosions, it's a wonder I get any sleep at all! That's why I have t' drink so much, ye know. Sorta drink myself into a stupor so he doesn't keep me awake."
"Riiiight," said Kail, winking at Neeshka. The Tiefling giggled.
"Kail! Kail!" said Wolf, the leader of the children who lived in the Flagon's roof space, as he rushed in through the front door.
"Calm down, I'm here. What's up?"
"Captain Brelaina wants to see you in her office right away. Aldanon's with her... I think it's something to do with Crossroad Keep. A prisoner that they found there, or something!"
"Alright, run at tell Brelaina I'm on my way. Sal, can you keep breakfast on hold until we get back?"
"Right you are," he nodded.
As she stood, she rolled her shoulders again, slowly working the knots out of her muscles. Even her legs had cramps! That was the last time she was falling asleep in that damned chair.
"Should I go fetch everyone else, lass?" asked Khelgar.
"No," she smiled. "We'll go, just the three of us. It will be nice to get away from the crowd for a while."
o - o - o - o - o
The crowd, it seemed, objected to being away from Kail. Just outside the Flagon she was hailed by Sand as he left his shop. She stopped to wait for him, and thanked him again for the books he had given her.
"Please, don't mention it, it's my pleasure," he told her. Obviously her gratitude embarrassed him a little, so she let him change the subject. "Where are you off to now? More adventures?"
"We're going to see Captain Brelaina. Apparently, she and Aldanon have something to show me. Something from Crossroad Keep."
"Really? Do you mind if I come along? If Aldanon feels this merits your attention, I am sure it is something worth seeing."
"Of course. We have to hurry, though. Sal's making a fry-up for when we get back, and I'm starving."
"Lead the way."
Even though the hour was still early, there was already a considerable crowd on the streets. Women strolled along carrying their baskets, children ran through the streets chasing each other, men strolled casually, greeting people that they knew. Some of the people called out greetings to Kail, wishing her blessings of good health and good fortune. She returned their gestures with equanimity, greeting those that she knew by name, and waving at others who waved to her. Luckily, nobody stopped her to ask for her autograph, which was something she had been told by Sand to expect, and was dreading.
They made it to Dolphin Bridge in good time, and crossed into the Merchant District. Here, the people were a little less open, a little more reserved. If the Docks District could be considered the lower class, and Blacklake the higher class, then the Merchant District was the middle class. The people here were careful not to offend their betters, but always aloof around those 'beneath' them.
In West Harbor, nobody had been above or below anybody else, and social class was something that Neeshka had had to explain to her. Though Georg was in charge of West Harbor, he didn't consider himself to be better than anybody else. He treated everybody, from her father, Brother Merring and Tarmas, right down to the children of the village, equally. In a small farming community, nobody put up with nonsense things such as airs and graces, which was why she had never had all that many friends there. The people of her village saw her as somewhat aloof, and because she was a private person, and didn't like to talk about herself, they thought that she thought she was better than some of them. Of course, not everybody had seen her that way. The Mossfelds were the worst, really, and even they had eventually given up teasing her and mocking her.
The Watch House stood tall and grim in front of her. Designed to hold prisoners, as well as function as a centre of command, the building always seemed militaristic to her. Still, its architects probably had their reasons for building it as they did. Putting the building out of mind, she climbed the steps and made her way through the corridors towards Brelain's study.
o - o - o - o - o
"Ahh, Kail," said Captain Brelaina when she caught sight of her. The Captain's eyes lit up, and some of the weariness seemed to wash away from her face. "Welcome. I was just speaking with Master Aldanon concerning one of the prisoners we recovered from Garius... a woman, but not of Neverwinter or Luskan... or even perhaps this plane of existence. The prisoner has asked for you personally. I was hoping you might be able to help us out concerning her identity - or her intentions. Aldanon has a theory, but I'm afraid..."
"If you both would simply listen," said Aldanon in exasperation. "The comparison to a rock, a big rock, is a simple one, almost perfect. This prisoner you have... it seems that she is of the same stone as the githyanki, but yet she is not. You see, both were once one people, at one time, even though time is a very difficult thing to measure depending on the Plane, and that's not counting time in the Astral Plane or on..."
"Forgive me, Aldanon," Brelaina sighed. She had obviously been at this for some time. "Is this prisoner a threat or not?"
"Oh, I don't know that. I do know that the githzerai and githyanki have been in a state of war for millennia. It is common knowledge."
"Of course. An oversight on my part."
"So I should think that if your young lieutenant here... well met again, by the way, you seem to be everywhere... is hunted by the githyanki, then the githzerai, and this githzerai prisoner, would be allies, by default. But I could be mistaken. I suppose we could see if she tries to kill any of us, but that test has numerous procedural flaws in its execution... if you will pardon the semantics. She seemed reasonable enough when we spoke together in Crossroad Keep, but there was a foot of stone between us, which is notoriously hard for a blade to cut through to kill someone on the other side. And speaking of Crossroad Keep, I am rather anxious to return there -- so if you would both excuse me, I will set out there at once to see if we can dig anything out of the library there. Good day, and I hope the prisoner doesn't attempt to kill you. She didn't seem the type, but you know how assassins are."
"Despite the advice of Master Aldanon, I think it would be best if you simply spoke to the prisoner and let this matter sort itself out, without further speculation," said Brelaina.
"Did any of you understand what he meant by stones and rocks?" Kail asked. Neeshka shook her head.
"Sounds like nonsense to me, lass. And my folk are very good with stone," said Khelgar.
"Aldanon was speaking metaphorically," said Sand. "As the Drow were once of the same kin as the rest of the Elves, it would seem this prisoner is of the same kin as the githyanki."
"Come with me, I'll open the door to the cells," said Brelaina. The Captain took a key from her pocket, and led the way through another corridor into the cells.
Inside the closest cell stood a woman, the likes of which Kail had never seen before in her life. As tall as a Human, yet as slender as an Elf, the woman stood complacently in the centre of the her prison. She was clothed in only a thin skirt and shirt, and a silk veil hung from her face, obscuring her features below her eyes. The eyes themselves were a bright yellow-white, and seemed to shine with an inner light. Superficially, the woman looked similar to the githyanki... and yet... not. Her features were softer, her skin a lighter shade of yellow-green, and she exuded an aura of calm and tranquility.
"I felt your presence before my eyes fell upon you... Kalach-Cha," said the woman. Her voice was soft but husky, though her speech was perfect. She obviously had a very good grasp of the language. "Step forward, let me look upon you."
Kail took a step forward, into a shaft of light that came down from the high window of the prison cells. She immediately wished that she hadn't; the light was harsh, and made her feel like she was being judged.
"They said you asked for me by name," she said, not knowing what else to say to this stranger.
"Your name... your name is not how I know you. Know this name our enemies have draped upon you - this Kalach-Cha - its sound travels far, even reaching the ears of my people. At first, my people thought our enemies had erred, that they did not know that of which they speak. But here, now, as you stand in my presence, I see the truth. I did not think it possible, but the key by which you may know yourself lies within you. I know much of the problems that beset your people and mine -- the reason behind these attacks upon your heart and home. You will have no greater ally in this than I. In exchange for my aid, it is my will I be freed, so that I might travel with you and aid you against these enemies."
"Why do you wish to travel with me?" she asked in surprise. It was the last thing she had expected. In her mind, anybody who wanted to travel with her was crazy, and this woman didn't even know her!
"This cell is abhorrent to me. It is a shackle of stone encasing me. It causes memories of the ways of the Illithids to surface in my mind. I have borne this indignity because I knew that it would bring you to me - and a greater truth will be known."
"So let me get this right. In exchange for what you know, you only ask to travel with me? How do I know that I can trust you?"
"I heard you were here," said a familiar male voice from behind her. She groaned inwardly, and turned to face Sir Nevalle. He looked as shiny and knightly as ever in his clean uniform and polished boots. No doubt she, in her slept-in, creased plain clothes, made less of an impression. "You fought bravely, and we took them almost completely by surprise. You are to be commended, both for your efforts and for the lives spared this day. Had you not been there, we would have many less brave men standing with us today... along with what may be the key to taking this battle to our enemies."
"In freeing me, know that you have gained more than you ever would have torn from the lips and thoughts of our enemies," said the woman in the cell.
"Then speak," said Nevalle bluntly. "Aldanon does not think you are allied with these enemies... these githyanki. And his word carried weight with me - fortunately for you."
"Then know the trade between us is this... Release me from this prison, let my path become that of the Kalach-Cha. In return, I will grant you the knowing of this threat, and all the darkness its shadow casts."
"We promise an honest hearing, and if your tale rings true, we will grant your freedom," said Nevalle. Kail rolled her eyes. Everything had to be trials and hearings in this city.
"Then listen to me, and know this threat for what it is," said the woman. "But we cannot do it here, in this prison, where my words echo... and the shadows fall thick around us."
"And why should we allow your freedom until we hear what you have to say?" 'We', it seemed, was Sir Nevalle and Lord Nasher. Kail doubted that she'd even get a say in what happened to the woman.
"Because if you deny me that, then anything I can do to aid you will prove useless. I seek to know this plane, this world that I am to help you save - and speak honestly to it, so that I might hear what strikes at its heart. And that means that I must see your lands, what you would spill blood for... what you have spilled blood for."
"Then I know of just the place where you can see what we fight for," said Nevalle. Then he turned to her. "Make your way back to Crossroad Keep as soon as you are able. I shall meet you there." Then he strode from the room, his footsteps echoing down the dark corridor.
"Always a pleasure to deal with the Nine," said Captain Brelaina after Nevalle had left.
"Eight, now," said Kail.
"Ah yes, I heard about the death of Melia. A tragedy, as were all the deaths that occurred in the Moonstone Mask."
"I think Lord Nasher was concerned only about Melia. The deaths of the others did not seem to matter to him."
"Lord Nasher is a man with a lot on his mind," said Brelaina. "And now, I think I shall have to release our new... friend... into your custody." She unlocked the door of the cell, and the strange woman stepped out.
"So... what's your name?" Kail asked her.
"Zhjaeve. It is not how I am known in my home, but it is the name that I have grown up with," the woman replied.
"Right. Well... I don't suppose you have any weapons, or a change of clothes, or any personal possessions that you'd like to bring with you?"
"Everything that I owned was taken by Garius. Such things are of little importance to me anyway."
"Trust me," said Neeshka. "When winter really sets in, warmer clothes are going to be really important to you."
"When the mind and body are one, even extreme cold can be tolerated," said Zhjaeve.
"Still," said Kail, "If you're going to be travelling with us to Crossroad Keep, I think we should go about getting you some supplies. A pack, food rations, a canteen, a cloak, a weapon... the usual stuff."
"As you think is best, Kalach-Cha. I am unfamiliar with the ways of your plane."
"Then we'll head to the markets and pick up everything we need for the trip. And please... call me Kail."
o - o - o - o - o
"I can't believe we have to go back to that Keep," said Khelgar. "We only just got back from there!"
"Nevalle sure likes making us run around for him," agreed Neeshka.
"Charming, isn't he?" quipped Sand.
"Well, if it's what we have to do, it's what we have to do," said Kail. She pushed open the door to the Flagon, and Zhjaeve followed her.
The smell of cooking food wafted alluringly from the kitchen, and the rest of her companions were already tucking into a healthy breakfast of fried, toasted and grilled things. Shandra and Grobnar were sat at one table with Elanee and Casavir, while Qara was eating at the bar. Bishop was eating his breakfast in his usual chair, dropping occasional scraps down to Karnwyr, which the wolf snapped out of the air with his powerful jaws. When she stepped across the room, everyone stared at her.
No. Everyone was staring at Zhjaeve, she realised. Qara was even open-mouthed, a fork-full of bacon halfway to her mouth. Shandra watched Zhjaeve warily, and Casavir's hand wavered over his weapon.
"Everyone, this is Zhjaeve," said Kail, gesturing at the woman who seemed perfectly calm in the face of hostility. "She was a prisoner of Garius, and she's going be travelling with us so that she can help us in our fight against the King of Shadows."
"She's a githyanki!" Shandra spluttered.
"No," said Zhjaeve, turning her gaze to the blonde-haired woman. "My people are the githzerai. We were once of the same kin as the githyanki, but we now oppose them and their violent ways."
"Oh. Well... sorry. I was kidnapped by the githyanki once. It's sort of stuck with me. I'm sorry I overreacted," said Shandra, blushing.
"No apology is necessary. It is a common mistake amongst people of this plane who are unfamiliar with the githyanki and the githzerai."
"Regardless," said Kail, "I suggest you all have second helpings of breakfast, because Nevalle wants us back at Crossroad Keep. I intend to set off after I've finished my food. Anybody who wants to stay behind, can. But for now, there's a plate of something dripping with fat just waiting for me in the kitchen."
o - o - o - o - o
The road to Crossroad Keep was muddy. The deluge of the previous day and a half had turned the soil to mud, and Kail was thankful that she'd remembered to pack another change of clothes for when she arrived there.
Zhjaeve seemed to be coping well with the trek. They had been walking since just before lunch time, and had made good progress in the past several hours. Soon it would be dark, and they would have to reach a well-known dry campsite before the sun set, or risk losing their footing in the dark and ending up mired in mud.
"How much have you told Zhjaeve?" asked Elanee, approaching Kail from behind. Everybody was spaced out along the path, with Shandra and Grobnar at the front of the column, and Casavir bringing up the rear.
"Told her about what?"
"About everything. The shards, the attack on West Harbor..."
"Oh, you mean have I divulged the secret of the shard in my chest? No, I haven't told her anything... yet. She seems to know an awful lot already, though. I suspect we'll talk more once we reach the Keep."
"I see."
"What's bothering you?" she asked the Elf with a sigh. Elanee was about as good as hiding her feelings as Qara was.
"Casavir was very worried when he discovered that you were gone this morning. As was I, of course," she added hastily.
"Look, Elanee. I appreciate everyone looking out for me. And I'm glad you were there to watch over me when I was younger, even if I didn't know you were there. But there's something you need to understand, and it's the same thing that Lucas needed to understand. I'm not a child anymore. I don't need to be watched, or guided, or shadowed. I need my space. I need to be able to go somewhere, alone if necessary, without a dozen people asking where I'm going and why. All I ask is that you respect my wishes, as I respected yours when you wanted to return to Skymirror alone. I don't want to be coddled anymore. Please pass that along to Casavir, and anybody else who panics when I am out of sight for more than five minutes."
"Very well. I am sorry... I didn't realise my concern was... stifling... you," said Elanee, bowing her head in acquiesce.
"It's alright. We've both had a lot on our minds recently. I'd love to hear a little more about the Mere, if you have time."
"Of course. What would you like to know?" asked Elanee. She always brightened up when talking about her favourite subject.
"Whereabouts is the grove... the Circle... in relation to West Harbor? Did you have to travel far to find me?"
"Yes, quite far, and along dark, dangerous paths. The Circle is at the heart of the Mere. West Harbor is near the outer edge. It was not an easy journey to make, which is why I rarely returned to the Circle, except when I was summoned."
"So... where did you live, while you were watching me?"
"In a cave, not far from your village. It was well hidden, and the beasts and the lizardmen did not mind me coming and going, as long as I did not upset their lives too much."
"What about other villages? Are there many, in the Mere? Did you ever watch people from villages other than West Harbor?" It was the best way she could think to covertly ask the druidess questions that she wanted answers to.
"Yes, there are other villages, but not many. No, I never visited them. I tried to avoid Human settlements, where possible. I only came to West Harbor to watch you. Had it not been for that, I would have been content to stay with the Circle, in the heart of the Mere."
"Do you know of any towns or villages that have been... reclaimed, by the Mere?"
"It is the fate of all settlements to be reclaimed by nature, whether they are hamlets or cities. They simply cannot survive against nature; a settlement will last only for as long as there are enough people within it to keep back the plants, the trees, the animals. But people tire, whereas nature does not. Where there is a compromise, cities will last longer. For example, the Elven city of Suldanessellar does not seek to control nature, to fight it, but to work with it in unison, and so it endured." She sighed. "But I can tell you are not interested in Elven cities. There are a great many former settlements within the Mere, that are simply no longer there. Even Illefarn could not survive it, once the city was abandoned."
"But what about villages? Are there any that have been reclaimed or lost in the past... say, twenty years or so?"
"Hmm," said Elanee, lost in thought for a moment. "Yes, one. Redfallow's Watch."
"What happened to it? Did the lizardmen destroy it?"
Elanee smiled. "Ah, so that's what you are worried about. No, the lizardmen will not attack West Harbor in force. Nor did they attack Redfallow's Watch. Nobody knows what actually happened there... all we know is that it was burnt to rubble. There were no survivors. The Elders of the Circle were not saddened when they heard about it. I do not think the people of that place respected the land, as the people of West Harbor do."
"I see... well... thanks. I hope we can get your Circle back for you. I hope we can keep West Harbor, and the rest of the Mere, from the fate of places like Illefarn, and Redfallow's Watch."
"So do I," said Elanee sadly. "So do I."
o - o - o - o - o
In the bright, midday sunlight, Crossroad Keep looked less imposing than it had previously. And there was something else that had changed about it; the courtyard was full of people. There were men wearing uniforms of the Neverwinter Greycloaks, there were builders and tradesmen, even an occasional merchant. As she was looking around, Sir Nevalle walked out of the Keep. When he spotted her with her friends, he made his way over.
"It's seen better days... and will again," he said, observing her as she observed the action. "This Keep was destroyed during the war with the King of Shadows. It was a dark time for Neverwinter, but we persevered, as you have recently."
"It looks like Crossroad Keep is being rebuilt," she said. He nodded.
"I have brought you back here under orders, Kail Farlong. For Lord Nasher has a new task for you. And perhaps our... guest can see what it is you'll be fighting for in the coming days. These people you see around you, they are now yours to command as you see fit. You are their Captain in Neverwinter's service. Make this Keep ready for war. Gather troops to your banner, and be prepared to strike when this enemy reveals itself. To help you manage the keep, Lord Nasher has assigned you an officer, Kana. And Master Veedle has been contracted to help you rebuild the Keep and the surrounding area. You are the master of this keep now. You have earned it through service and blood, and you have earned my trust... and that of Lord Nasher. This is your land. Defend it, for the sake of your people, and the sake of Neverwinter."
Speech over, he patted her on the shoulder, then sauntered off to speak to a builder. Kail was dumbfounded. This Keep. Hers. Her Keep. Her. A Captain. In charge of things. In charge of building, in charge of men, in charge of... everything. Surely she was dreaming this. It couldn't be real.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again," grinned Neeshka. "I love how people just walk up to you and give you stuff."
