Lidia turned towards a sound from the forest. Almost out of nowhere, a man of about sixty appeared from behind one of the oaks. Despite his shabby, homespun tunic and jacket, he still kept an air of civilization about him, and carried himself with dignity. He passed a hand over his brow, and hesitated to get too close.
"What goes on here?" he asked. "I've seen many a strange thing in my time, but the events of the past few moments tops them all. Who are you that can change shape so readily, and why have you slain these beasts that become human?"
She knitted her brow. "Change shape…?" Her first thought was that he might have seen Jaheira at work, but this man was addressing her.
He said, "All of you were ogres and knolls fighting, yet these deaths yielded human bodies. But I recognized the winged messenger that flew from the scene."
"Our fate is sealed, then," Anomen said, wiping sweat from his brow with a spare cloth. "When the Order hears of this, we shall be hunted outlaws with no place to hide ourselves."
Lidia remembered that the gnoll had called her "beast," but she'd simply assumed that she looked unlovely to the gnoll's eyes. "None of us have the kind of magic you describe," she said.
"Come with me," Garren said. "Take sanctuary at my house until you can find what has happened."
Lidia bowed her head, as if to think. She tried to clear her mind, but Ajantis's pale, dead face intruded, as though to accuse her. She'd have to trust her gut. And, for the time being, going along with the only witness to prove their innocence seemed like the best course.
"All right. Show us the way."
Garren's home seemed almost an idyllic place, resting on a swell of land to their south and sheltered by tall hills on every side. The house itself was freshly painted and well-kept, with a garden in the back. It looked like any yeoman's home they'd seen, with the exception of a shield mounted on it — blue, with three black spears. Several small buildings were scattered throughout the property, including a shed and a guest house. Far away, they could see a lookout tower with a light burning from where they stood.
He disappeared inside a small shed, then came out with some rags, which they used to clean most of the spilled blood from their armor. Once they'd done so to their satisfaction, he urged them to come in.
Garren's home was immaculately clean and fitted with new timbers on the floor. Still, much of the furniture was old and worn, and some of the beams seemed to sag in the ceiling, with a few wooden pegs driven through them in some attempt to shore them up. Despite the rising day, a lamp flickered on the wall, and a pot of water boiled over the fireplace; that morning had been cold.
He pulled out several chairs for them and urged them to sit, then opened a back door to the garden. "Iltha!"
A call returned from outdoors.
"Please come inside. We have guests."
Garren turned back inside. Close behind him, practically running through the door, was a young girl no more than thirteen. She wore a simple shift of the same material as Garren's clothes, and her thin arms and legs were covered in freckles.
He gave the girl a reprimanding look, and immediately she slowed down. But with no less energy than before, she got out a copper tin, several cups, and a kettle. She ladled the kettle with hot water, then scooped in a few spoonfuls from the copper tin. Soon, the room was filled with the bright, reviving smell of lemon balm.
As the girl served the drinks, something about the scent seemed to be inviting Lidia to unbend, to spend her grief. She blinked back the tears again and leaned forward upon the wooden table. "Do you know who could have done this?"
As if by habit, Garren rubbed a ring upon his smallest left finger. "I was once lord of this land, but I was discredited through trickery. The people lost faith in me, and my influence crumbled. In the end, my properties were razed in a single night. I still bear the scars in my dreams."
He stared into the distance, to somewhere beyond the plaster walls. Finally he said, "I am content now, having found solace in the quiet of the wood, but I will forevermore curse the name of Lord Jierdan Firkraag. Now it would seem that he has targeted you as well."
Jaheira asked Garren, "How do you know that he did this? What evidence do you have? The magic used to disguise the knights was powerful, more so if it could affect them and us without anyone knowing."
"You speak the truth. I have no stronger evidence other than his previous behavior. Perhaps you slighted him in some way, without even knowing. What I do know is that he is not the worst of your worries. The Radiant Heart will seek your death if something is not done quickly. But I have friends among the Order, and I would be willing to speak to them on your behalf."
"That would mean much to us," Lidia said. "We couldn't pay you nearly enough."
"Any enemy of Lord Jierdan's is a friend of mine," he said. "I'll have to determine what, exactly, will need to be done before I go. For now, rest here. Iltha?"
The girl snapped to attention. "We've got a guest house in the back. Let me show you."
The rest of the Company silently rose and followed, taking their packs outdoors. Lidia felt numb, as though she were sleepwalking, until a fresh horror arose. What made the weight in her chest feel even heavier was that she saw this coming. She knew what Lord Jierdan was, or at least knew enough that she ought to have rejected his deal, though she wondered now whether this man would have suffered rejection. Perhaps she and the group would escape death at the hands of the Order, if Garren was on the up and up. But now six unjust deaths would weigh upon her conscience. Where could anyone go, or what could anyone do to rid themselves of this disgrace?
The day's work had already exhausted most of the Company, and most of them dozed in the guest house for the rest of the morning. Lidia had gone someplace alone to weep, and now felt a kind of brittle restlessness, a desire to do anything to turn her mind elsewhere.
As she made her way back to the guest house, she found Iltha picking up a few logs from a woodpile in the back.
The girl's eyes lit up as soon as she saw Lidia approaching.
"Do you need any help?" Lidia asked.
"No, but Father tells me you should remain here in case the Order visits."
Which could lead to the rest of the group's capture, she realized. "Of course. Is there anything he needs from me before he leaves for Athkatla?"
Iltha shook her head. "You've already told him everything, aye? You're our guest. Why are you offering to help us?"
Lidia had no answer for that. She finally said, "I...I made a mistake. And now I need to pay for it, somehow."
The girl leaned against the outside wall, easing the weight of the wood. "Lord Jierdan had no right to trick you the same way he did to Father. But he has gone too far, trying to dishonor a Bringer of Light."
"I'm...I'm sorry?"
"My father tells me many stories of paladins and their chivalry, and I've always wanted to meet one in person."
"I...probably don't look very much like the ones in the stories," Lidia said. A Bringer of Light? That was a new one.
"But you can. You still fight against the darkness, acting as your heart tells you. It doesn't matter what people think of you as you do it."
Lidia was tempted to disabuse her of the romantic notions that Garren seemed to have put into her head, but thought better of it. The girl had a loving father and a quiet life, but this family seemed to have fallen a long way down. Stories might be one of the few things she had left. Besides, Lidia knew the kinds of tales Iltha had described - as a matter of fact, they had inspired her, too, a long time ago.
She said, "In that case, I will be worthy of your hopes."
With the firewood still in one arm, the girl gave a proper bow and a knowing smile, and then went indoors.