Chapter 4
The next day the rain still had not stopped, but the Blades and their new friends went on their way anyway, all on foot for the time being except for Ashram, who rode a tall, night-black stallion. Brynn did a double take when she saw the horse. It looked for all the world as wicked as its master looked, but in reality, when she walked up to give it a closer examination, proved to be of the same genial stripe as Ashram himself. Ashram fed the beast an apple before he saddled it with his black and red-trimmed riding gear.
"So, if you want to avoid being seen as um… well… evil, why do you ride a black horse with black and red tack?" Brynn asked the tall paladin.
Ashram shrugged. "This is the horse that came to me, and this is the tack that suited him the best. It is as much luck as my own looks. It seemed silly to me to clad him in white and gold"
That served as a good enough answer for Brynn, and as soon as everyone was assembled they set off. It was a long, horribly wet walk, though the rain slackened off from a downpour to a light drizzle somewhere around noon. Around about then the party stopped for lunch, pausing under the spreading branches of a tall oak, grateful for the shelter they provided. They ate quickly, eager to be on their way again so that they would arrive at the De'Arnise keep before it was too long.
Night came while they were walking, and when they stopped again for dinner there was some debate as to whether or night they should stop for the night. The rain suddenly picked up again though, and since they were not too far from the keep they chose to continue on in hope that they would be safe under a sheltering roof before the weather got much worse. So they slogged on, sometimes their feet mired in the mud, sometimes their vision obscured by the driving, freezing rain, but at last they made it to the keep, unharmed except for wet clothes, and gratefully warmed themselves before a blazing fire in the main hall wrapped in soft, dry blankets.
"First thing, as soon as I can move, I'm going down to that hot bath Brynn had put in the basement and I'm going to soak until my fingers prune up," Imoen said, shivering and leaning closer to the fire.
"Thy fingers are pruned already," Dynaheir pointed out.
"In that case," Imoen said, "I'll soak until they un-prune. Care to join?"
"Does the sun rise in the east?"
Redleaf sneezed loudly and cleared his throat. "What hot bath are you ladies talking about? 'Cause if there's warm I want to be in it."
"Redleaf, try not to be crude, please," Hsanin requested.
"What? I don't want to be in it with them, just in it." He sneezed again. "I'm not really that perverted."
"Just taking precautions," Hsanin replied.
"There's a men's and a women's bath, so whenever you want you can jump in," Imoen told Redleaf.
"Lady, lead me to it. My toes is froze!"
Redleaf wasn't the only one who thought a hot bath sounded delicious, and soon everyone was soaking in hot water. Afterward, warm, clean and sleepy, they all retired and fell fast asleep, letting their tired muscles sink into the soft covers of their respective beds.
***
By the time morning came everyone was coughing and sneezing. The inclement weather had finally caught up with their immune systems and 'the crud' had settled firmly in their lungs and throats. Ashram was the only one spared; his divine grace kept disease at bay. He did his best to take care of the others as possible, calling on his power to cure Anomen and Hsanin, who promptly devoted as many spells as possible to curing eight more. The last three, Imoen, Haer'Dalis and Dynaheir, were taken care of by Redleaf. That left all of them cured, but it would take a night of rest for the lingering effects of the cold to work the way out of their systems, so a second night was spent in the keep.
The next morning came and the winter storms only grew worse. Staring outside, the group discussed the prospect of venturing out, but decided that it was ill-advised to risk another bout of sickness, and plus no one really wanted to go out in the icy rain for a second time.
"I suppose we'll try and wait for a clear day then," Brynn said with a sigh. She knew clear days to be few and far between at that time of year. "Or at least a better day. I hate winter this far south. At least at Candlekeep it snowed instead of sleeted."
"It snows," said Anomen. "Leastwise, I saw a few flakes today."
"Yeah, but it's wet snow, and I don't care much for it," Brynn argued.
The rest of the day was divided between restless activity, sleep, and eating. Bryseus sought out Brynn looking for fighting advice, but Brynn directed the younger woman to Haer'Dalis.
"I'm not sure that my techniques will work for you," Brynn told her. "Haer'Dalis knows some more universal techniques, and those might help you more. But I suppose if you really want some more help later come see me and I might have a few things that'll give you some good practice. Maybe talk to Minsc too, he's a ranger, and they all know something about the two-weapon style. It's like their born that way or something."
Bryseus went off, a little disappointed that she wouldn't be training with her hero, but consoled with the fact that she would still be getting the chance to train with others of similar skill.
It was around noon when one of the doors in from the courtyard flew open and Jaheira walked in looking something like a very grumpy drowned rat. Imoen, who was in the great hall enjoying some lunch, saw her first. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and returned to her food.
Anomen spotted the druid next, and, surprised to see her, called out, "Lady Jaheira, what are you doing here?"
Jaheira didn't answer him. She just kept walking. He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared up the stairs, and then shrugged; whatever Jaheira's purpose was it wasn't really so much of his business that he needed to pester her about it. He'd find out later anyway.
Finally Jaheira tracked her quarry to the library. Khalid, Brynn and Yoshimo had taken to the large, comfortable chairs there and were discussing various things of little importance while they waited for the rain to stop. Khalid had a book open in his lap, intent on finding out some specific detail about their topic of conversation.
"Brynn," Jaheira said. She sneezed. "I decided that I will be joining you after all."
Three sets of eyes turned and regarded Jaheira with surprise.
"When did you get here?" Brynn asked. "No, never mind that, you must be freezing! Do you want to get into some dry clothes?"
"Is s-something the matter in the grove, dear?" Khalid inquired solicitously. He put his book down, his quest forgotten for the time being, and went over to his shivering, soggy wife.
"I never made it to the grove," Jaheira replied. She took Khalid's seat, earning a quiet chuckle from Yoshimo. "I started there, but decided that you would need all the help you could get on this damn fool crusade of yours."
"I'll go f-fetch you a blanket and some tea," Khalid offered, at a loss for what to do now that he had nowhere to sit besides the floor. He left the room with a sigh.
"'Damn fool crusade?'" Brynn asked.
Jaheira nodded sharply. "Damn fool crusade," she confirmed. "You need not kill everything that threatens society. Sometimes I think a good dragon attack would do Athkatla some good."
"So then why are coming with us?" Yoshimo asked. "As you said before, the grove might need you."
"I imagine the lot of you will need me more," Jaheira replied. "Especially with that damned idiot that claims he's a druid chasing your heels. Someone has to balance out his bad influence."
It became very clear then that all Jaheira really wanted to do was make sure Redleaf reformed and became her version of what a druid ought to be. Brynn hoped that Jaheira would learn to live with the idea that some people had different ideas of how the world should be even if they followed the same calling in life.
Yoshimo hoped he could be there when the two druids got into a philosophical 'debate' because it was bound to be interesting to say the least. Besides which, someone might have to pull the two of them apart if things got ugly. Or someone might desire to help Jaheira beat the stuffing out of Redleaf if he made one more 'sweet cheeks' comment about Brynn. Ever.
Khalid returned then with the blanket and a cup of hot tea. He gave both to his wife and stood awkwardly before sighing again and sitting down on the rug in the center of the room. "You should g-get out of those wet clothes s-soon," he cautioned, ever watchful over his beloved wife.
"I will be fine," Jaheira assured him. She sneezed again. "Damn dusty books!"
"I don't know," Brynn said. "Something's been going around. We were all sick right after we got here."
"I do not get sick," Jaheira said firmly. Again a violent sneeze. She sniffed and sipped her tea delicately. "Now then, what are your plans?"
"Well, as soon as the weather clears up a bit we'll be heading out toward Balagos' lair to look for signs of the halfling and his party," Brynn explained. "That's about it. Hopefully Minsc will still be able to track them despite the weather."
"Doubtful."
Brynn grinned lopsidedly. "Listen, Merry Sunshine," she said, "why don't you go dry off and get warm?"
"I think I will," Jaheira said. She stood, wrapping the blanket about her like a royal cloak, one hand peaking out to hold he cup, and then walked off with a dignified grace that was ruined only by a fourth loud sneeze.
"Oh dear," said Khalid. "I'm afraid she w-w-will be doing that for a while. I d-don't think she will let anyone heal her. She doesn't get sick, after all." He smiled affectionately, shaking his head at his wife's foibles.
Brynn shrugged. "I hope she won't be that stubborn."
"One never knows."
***
Despite her protests Jaheira did get sick, and she took it out on all those who approached, especially poor Redleaf, who, feeling sorry for his fellow druid, offered to heal her. He was chased away by a storm of fury and small, thrown objects. Sickness, according to Jaheira, was part of nature, and anyway, she wasn't sick. All the Blades could do was shake their heads and wonder at Jaheira's sudden and irrational behavior. Usually, she was the voice of reason within the group, advising caution and thought, and though she was stubborn she could be brought around to a logical point of view. Not this time though.
It might not have been a problem had the weather not cleared the day after Jaheira's sudden arrival. The druid was determined to go with the group, but she was obviously in no condition to go, and so hoping to spare her friend, Brynn tried to delay the expedition. Angry at being 'mollycoddled' for no good reason, Jaheira demanded that they leave. She wasn't sick after all, and so there was no reason to stay. Reluctantly Brynn agreed, and so the party set off on horseback, hoping to pick up the trail of Lesley Surefoot and his companions.
The going was slow at first, mostly because no one wanted to stress Jaheira out while she was ill, but then Jaheira got a whiff of what was going on and, sagging in her saddle with sweat beading up on her brow and her skin ashen-pale, she picked up the pace and sent everyone scurrying along at a good attempt at a forced march.
Night finally came and everyone sunk gratefully into their bedrolls in their tents and fell promptly asleep except Jaheira, who in consideration for Khalid and his need to sleep, settled herself under a tree and had a coughing fit.
It was there that Redleaf tracked her down, cornered her and said, "Listen, I don't know why you hate me so much, but it's going to kill you if you don't cut it out."
"Is…" Jaheira sneezed, "is that a threat?"
"No, it's a prediction," Redleaf replied. "At the rate you're going now you'll be dead before my liver, and that's saying something. Look at you, you're a sickly mess."
"I do not get sick."
"The Hells you don't. What're you trying to prove? That you're better than me? You win! I coulda told you that when we first met. It was never even a contest. Now sit still and let me heal you…"
"The day I let you lay a finger on me is the day Anomen marries Haer'Dalis."
Redleaf chuckled. "Well, Anna has this theory about bards… but never mind that. Why? What did I do to make you hate me, huh?"
"What didn't you do, you aberrant freak? You claim to be a druid, but you have no care for the greater balance. All you care about is wenching and drinking!"
"Now that's not fair. You don't know me at all."
Jaheira launched into a spasm of coughing. "I know…" she began when the coughing subsided, "I know you well enough. You revere nature only for the powers that it grants you, not for… for its greatness."
"Well," said Redleaf, "If we're going to be throwing accusations around I could say that you're the product of a totalitarian regime that cares only about protecting its own philosophies against any sort of change at all, and that, in your misguided attempts to maintain perfect balance, you're barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. But I'd rather not be throwing accusations around. So I'll just defend myself against you unfair judgment instead." He fixed her with a gimlet stare. "I'll have you know I love nature. Love it to pieces. It's the only place that's ever been home to me, the only place where I can be something other than a half-breed, or the whore's son, or Ulliir's bastard brat. And pardon me if I like to indulge myself from time to time. What's not natural about that, huh? What's not natural about liking to look at women? Say what you want about me and my behavior, but never say I don't revere nature, 'cause nature's about the only thing I've got."
"Fine, fine, you revere nature," Jaheira conceded reluctantly. "But you do it the wrong way. There is no good or evil in nature, no inherent tendency toward law or chaos, it simply is. Nature exists outside of such things, it balances, and it is the duty of druids to protect nature, and thus to protect that balance! When we veer too much toward an extreme we move against the will of nature and upset the Balance. Though you love nature, you disturb it with your extreme behavior, ignoring the Balance in favor of your own personal whims."
Redleaf sighed. "I don't ignore the Balance," he argued. "If I ignored the Balance I'd be like… like an ascetic monk, seeking only control. I like control just fine, but I like my freedom to. That's the real balancing act. That's the crux of our dilemma as druids: The balancing of the controlled environment of cities with the wild of nature."
"I can agree with that much."
"See, we're not that different," Redleaf pointed out. "I think the main sticking point between us two is the good-and-evil axis. I disagree that there's no inherent bias between good and evil in nature."
"How can you say that?" Jaheira demanded angrily. "Nature both creates and destroys, it is full of good and evil, and as a whole is a neither black nor white, but a swirling mix of grays."
"Yeah, sure, but wouldn't you say that natural ways are good as opposed to unnatural ones?"
"Of course!"
"Well then, I say nature is good!"
"You cannot simply make a leap like that!"
"Just watch me," Redleaf told her. "When I was a boy I loved more than anything to watch birds. Sweet green leaves! They come in more shapes and colors and sizes than anything else except bugs, and bugs aren't nearly as fun to watch. I especially loved baby birds. They're the ugliest goddamned things on the face of Toril, but they're beautiful because of it. So, there was this nest of songbirds in a special copse of trees near the grove, and I watched them as they grew. When they came close to fledging I was so excited. I could've been their mother for all that I loved them. One day I went to see them –they weren't but a few days from being able to fly- and I found the whole nest had been eaten but one. I wept like a little girl, as much as I hate to admit it. I picked up that one little baby bird, squeaking and calling for its mama, and I carried it back to the grove, dressed its wounds, and set it somewhere nice and warm. Then I went out again, and tracked what had killed its nest mates. I was so angry I thought I'd pop a blood vessel. I just wanted to wring the neck of whatever had hurt my little birds. How could anything be so awful? I wondered. Eventually I found the culprit, a raccoon. I found her curled up in her nest with a litter of babies of her own, not much more than a few days old. And it hit me; that raccoon had killed and eaten my baby birds so that it could feed its babies. I felt like a dope. Here I had been thinking that raccoon musta been the most vile thing on earth, and it was just caring for its kids like the mama bird was. There was no evil in that, it was nature. If the baby birds hadn't died, maybe those raccoon babies woulda died, and so on and so forth to the top of the food chain. And that mama bird, she'd killed bugs and worms and stuff to feed her babies, hadn't she? That wasn't evil, except maybe to the worm, and even then, something had to die so that the worms could eat it, right? That was nature's way. It all lead back to some greater good in the end, the way I saw it."
He stopped, and gave Jaheira a hopeful smile. "So there's my leap. Nature's balanced, but nature's ways are good, in the end. All that's natural is good. Life's good and death, when it serves nature's purpose, is good too."
Jaheira was silent for a moment. "I still think you are wrong," she said at last. She sneezed.
Redleaf sighed wearily. "I figured as much."
"However," Jaheira continued, "perhaps your views have merit in their own way, though I do not believe them."
Relief flooded Redleaf's face. "I'm glad you said that, otherwise we mighta been here all night. How are you feeling then?"
"I have a slight cough but I believe I can cure myself, thank you," Jaheira told him.
"That's great, because the last thing this little insane vacation needs is a plague. So, friends?" Redleaf stuck out one of his hands.
"Friends," Jaheira agreed grudgingly, clasping his hand. They shook on it and went their separate ways for night.
To Be Continued
________________________________________________________________________
A/N: Anyone not see this debate coming? I guess it just shows to go ya the differences between a Silvanus druid and a Mielikki druid. Up next: The resurfacing of a familiar(?) face.