Author's note: Finally, I have a webpage up dedicated to Shadowmasters. Go to www.shadowmasters.webalias.com and check it out!
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Chapter 10: Rough Respite
Harrian rolled over to face the night sky, and gingerly raised a hand to his face. It was wet, and examination of his fingers merely showed a dark liquid, unidentifiable in the half-light. He tasted it gingerly, before grimacing and spitting it out. Mud. Better than blood.
He sat up, rubbing his head ruefully. The last thing he remembered was Anomen shouting at him, then he'd been clobbered over the head by… someone. Oh yes, and he'd been just about to make Amalas beg. It wasn't a particularly noble wish, but nobody insulted his friends and got away with it.
The thief looked around. He had been lying on a wooden surface, but was clearly outside, which had confused him until now. They appeared to be on the roof of a building, and a quick examination of their surroundings confirmed it was the top of the Copper Coronet. Great. Nine hours or more of his life had disappeared, and he'd only moved a few metres in that time.
Finally, he took in his immediate environment. There was a fire going on the rooftop, and Jaheira was crouched by it, cooking… something. Gods, they were camping on a rooftop. The guards would go spare if they actually cared.
By his feet, something shifted, and he looked down to see Minsc's slumbering – or unconscious – form. Boo slept on his stomach, rising and falling with the ranger's breathing, and they both looked as if they were getting some much-needed rest.
Anomen was huddled by the fire, his armour in a pile beside him, a blanket over his shoulders, clearly wondering just what he was doing with the group. Yoshimo slept beside him, katana within arm's reach, seemingly attentive even whilst asleep.
Jaheira stepped up to him, holding a steaming cup. "You're awake," she observed flatly, passing the cup to him. He nodded, his throat too dry to speak, and sipped the drink tentatively, then smiled gratefully to her.
She shook her head, sitting down next to him, a slightly wry smile on her face. It was a common expression for her. "That was not the smartest action you have ever taken," she told him bluntly.
"He was asking for it," Harrian answered honestly. "You know what I'm like when people insult the ones I care about." He looked blankly at her, his expression unreadable. It was not a face she wanted to dwell on either.
She cuffed him lightly, playfully, around the head. "Just get some sleep. You'll be needing it; I guarantee you you'll be feeling ten times worse in the morning. And if you don't… well, I'll have to do something about it."
Whatever the drink was, it helped him carry out her orders fast. He was asleep – real sleep, not unconsciousness this time – before she had returned to the fire as Anomen blew on his own drink (tea this time, not a sleep-aid) to cool it down.
They sat in silence for a moment, Jaheira perched on a box, Anomen curled under his blanket. The squire finally looked over at her, feeling a little sheepish. "Art thou cold, my lady?" he asked respectfully in the end.
"Keep the blanket," she responded firmly. "You look as if you need it far more than I could. I have camped in far rougher conditions." Jaheira didn't look at him, merely kept her eyes on the surroundings, ready for any more unexpected surprises.
He nodded gratefully. "I must confess, I am a creature who enjoys his comforts," he murmured, sipping the tea and sighing. If someone had told him twenty-four hours ago that he'd be involved in a bar-room brawl and be forced to sleep on a rooftop, he'd have told them to go to the hells. All nine of them.
"Regretting your decision to join the group yet?" Jaheira asked casually, a slow and unwilling smile pulling across her face.
He shook his head, also smiling ruefully. "Not yet. I am sleeping on the roof of one of the seediest bars in Athkatla, drinking poor-quality tea heated on a fire that could probably set the city ablaze after having been one of the causes of a most destructive brawl which got me banned from the inn I have been staying for the past few weeks… and yet I would laugh about it, were I not so damned tired."
He glanced over at Harrian's sleeping form. "Do you think he knows it was I who hit him, Lady Jaheira?" Anomen asked quietly, frowning, his expression altogether very sheepish. It had been a mistake – Amalas's lackey had stepped aside and pulled Corias back at the last moment, and Anomen had been unable to stop the massive swing of his mace.
"He would have leapt at you the moment he awoke if that was the case," the druid answered, managing her first half-joke of the past two days. "But do not dwell on it. It is probably for the best that he did not get even more involved in the fight. Minsc did enough damage for the five of us."
"Aye, and he is sleeping like a baby after bringing about such chaos," Delryn chuckled, then looked at the clouds in the night sky. "It will probably rain," he commented bleakly. "Just to bring the day to a shining end."
Jaheira looked up at the night sky. "It will not," she decided promptly and idly, as if it did not matter either way. "It is a shame Minsc has a need to sleep after his rage takes hold, or we might have been able to make it to another inn. As it is, even if Harrian had been awake we would not have been able to take him there."
Anomen shrugged. "There are no inns within a distance we could carry him anyway," he pointed out. "I believe the closest is Delosar's, or the Five Flagons, and they are in the Bridge District. Other than the Sea's Bounty in the Docks District and the Mithrest, those are the only other inns of any note in Athkatla. And, ah, the Docks District is Shadow Thief territory."
Neither of them spoke for a short while, and it was not until Anomen's mug was empty that he considered asking the question preying on his mind. Or, at least, one of many, because there was nothing about this group which was clear-cut. He cleared his throat tentatively. "If it isn't too much to ask," he mumbled, before coughing again and forcing himself to speak louder. "You mentioned, during the duel, that you have a husband?"
He cringed inwardly as she faced him, and he caught the controlled mask she usually wore flicker a little, a small flash of pain clear in her eyes, the same one he'd seen outside the Adventure Mart that morning. Was it only that morning? Gods, it seemed like a lifetime away.
"Had," she responded shortly, and Anomen felt his stomach sink. He really should have listened to his gut instinct and kept quiet. Keeping quiet – he never seemed to be able to do that, and with his lack of eloquence he could rarely get away with a misspoken word. "He was murdered," Jaheira continued, taking a faltering breath. "By Irenicus."
Delryn looked down, trying not to frown and mentally kicking himself for speaking out of turn. "I'm sorry," he murmured, then set the mug aside shortly. "Forgive me for asking, I did not mean to…"
"Do not worry yourself about it," Jaheira assured him, her voice emotionless. There was another uncomfortable silence. "You must be tired, with all of the drunkards you hit with your mace today," she said pointedly, and had there been a different run-up to the end of the conversation, he might have smiled.
"Yes… yes." Anomen nodded, before rolling over, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. He paused, still mentally kicking himself. "Good night, my lady," he murmured, as loud as he dared.
Jaheira looked over at him, then up at the night sky. She knew she would get as much sleep this night as she had the night before. Idly, the druid wondered which of her travelling companions would stay up with her the next evening to help her through this.
Her eyes slowly wandered over to where Harrian was sleeping, looking deceptively harmless and boyish in his slumber. One could only fathom his thoughts, where his mind was now, what he was going through… but from everything she'd seen, he'd been well-taught, well prepared for what was ahead.
Lucky. She'd seen everything Toril had to throw at her; had a lifetime's experience, and nothing could have prepared her for that loss. Somehow, watching Harrian's duel had made Khalid's death sink in that much more… watching it, the way he fought, the style so like that of her dead husband…
Jaheira sighed, grabbing a broken board from the box and throwing it onto the fire to keep the flames alight for longer, so she did not have to see this night alone and in perpetual darkness.