Chapter 68: Missing
Harrian, meanwhile, was back in Trademeet. He had marched up to the gates, ignored by all of the guards, and for unknown reasons approached the fountain which bore the eight statues of himself and his party members.
On a whim, he stepped up onto the pedestal which bore his likeness, and merged into the sculpture of himself. Then he couldn't move anything but his head, and as he looked down at his body, he was a solid in stone as the statue he had merged with.
An woman dressed in rags approached the fountain, almost bent double with the weight of the sack on her back. She was unidentifiable because of the heavy wraps of clothing she was swathed in. "Hail the hero of Trademeet!"
This is alright. I can live with this, Harrian mused. Pity I can't move, but hells, I'll cope.
At the old woman's shout, many doors around the square opened, and other figures moved out – figures without faces or any discerning humanoid features, yet he somehow knew they were civilians of Trademeet. As they approached, they took up the old woman's shout, and the cries of "Hail!" rose to the rooftops.
Then the sound of hoof beats could be heard, and Harrian twisted his stone head to see Keldorn's horse, Edumar, cantering up towards them, the noise of metal shoes crashing down upon cobblestones rising above the shouts. Oddly enough, the grey horse didn't slip or stumble, and seemed even more ethereal than ever, shining with an odd yet not angelic light.
The rider was not Keldorn – it was Haer'Dalis, with Imoen perched behind him. They seemed more in the pose of knight and damsel in distress than the usual stances of Harrian's friends, and bore cheerful, but uncharacteristic grins.
"Greetings, my raven!" Haer'Dalis called out. "I see that these people are thanking you, as ever. This seems to be the common outcome of all situations – you get to play hero. Isn't that lovely?"
"I'm sure you enjoy it, brother," Imoen interjected. Her voice was a little more prone to mindless giggles than usual, and was incredibly irritating as her chuckles continued, also rising above the chanting of the people.
"Oh, he does, my wildflower," Haer'Dalis assured her, nodding the proud nod of a knight in shining armour rather than that of the troubadour Corias knew. "The raven enjoys the attention it gets… whether it is for acts of heroism, which are most rare for a raven, or for the death that a raven usually brings."
Imoen's eyes shone with an odd innocence. "Are you going to bring us death, raven?" she asked lightly.
Haer'Dalis laughed. "Ah, do not worry, my wildflower. The raven will meet its destiny soon. The raven cannot deny his blood forever, and once the raven accepts his blood, the blood of others shall flow… flow like a river."
Imoen giggled at the bard's morbid statement, then nibbled on the tip of his ear. "My bard, you truly do weave eloquent." She looked sideways at Harrian, who still couldn't move. "The raven shall bring death and blood. Soon. Once he realises that his heritage cannot be ignored."
Haer'Dalis twisted in the saddle and kissed Imoen full on the lips. In that moment, his fiendish heritage seemed far more obvious, as his pointy-yet-not-elvish ears, bright blue hair and odd features shone with the same light Edumar shone with.
The horse whinnied, and they pulled back, smiling at Harrian. "Enjoy your stay there, raven. It'll last for a bit," Haer'Dalis assured the immobile statue. Imoen giggled inanely, as the bard straightened in the saddle and squeezed Edumar's flanks with his legs. The horse leapt forward into a perfect canter, oddly hurtling off through the crowd.
The crowd was still chanting, the woman carrying the burden still bent double. But as Harrian got a better look at her, another pair of voices could be heard above the shouts, and he looked over to see Anomen and Yoshimo approaching, deep in talk.
"Do not mistake my mace for a prune, thief," Anomen declared, deadpan, looking evilly at the bounty hunter. "It is not a vegetable; it is a piece of weaponry for bashing ideas into the heads of others, whether they like it or not."
"I never said your mace was a prune. I simply said it looked like one," Yoshimo corrected him, in the same perfectly serious voice. "Besides, a prune is a fruit, not a vegetable. Use your mind, Anomen."
Delryn snorted his usual snort. "That is irrelevant. You mock my ideals, you insult me to the very core by calling my mace a prune. Do not do so again." By now, they had reached Harrian, and looked up at the statue. "Whatcha doin'?" Anomen asked lightly.
Harrian tried to raise an eyebrow and respond, but found that he couldn't open his mouth. He merely imagined he was glaring at the cleric.
"Do not be impertinent," Yoshimo rebuked Delryn. "He is waiting. All good hunters wait; wait for the right opportunity to arise before they attack the prey. Maybe we would do well to move off, until he decides to hunt us, no?"
Anomen frowned. "He is not hunter. He's clawless. It's not waiting he's doing, it's denying. He is not going to pounce on anyone as he stays so still." The cleric turned. "These people do not cheer a Bhaalspawn if they think he's going to become a predator."
Yoshimo raised a hand. "Have patience, have patience," the bounty hunter said reproachfully. "Give the blood a chance. A raven cannot deny its nature. He'll pounce, in good time. Once the stone has fallen."
Delryn grinned. "Maybe we should break it for him," the squire suggested, and conjured up his mace from thin air. Corias tried to frown as he saw the head of the weapon was a lump of metal in the shape of a prune.
He didn't have much time to consider this as Anomen swung the mace, connecting it with the statue. Intense pain ran through Harrian as he felt his stone surroundings crack, and shatter as Delryn continued to strike.
No longer held in place by the stone, he fell to the floor, stumbling to his knees for a second until he struggled upright to look at Anomen and Yoshimo, who both smiled vacantly at him.
"Hey, look at that," the bounty hunter mused, looking Harrian up and down thoughtfully. "Even free, he doesn't devour us. I wonder why that is?" The Kara-Turan frowned, pulling out his katana.
Anomen nodded, also frowning. "What if we make him angry? Do you think he'll rip our throats out, or just take it?" The cleric hefted his mace and swung it dangerously, threatening rather than attacking Harrian.
"Ooh, I like that," Yoshimo replied, raising his katana, and as one they stepped towards Harrian, who still couldn't move, and prepared to bring their weapons down. The crowds of people were gone. There was nobody.
Except for the woman covered in rags who had started the crowd chanting in the first place. She stepped forward, out of the shadows, and Harrian suddenly saw it was Jaheira. Anomen and Yoshimo paused.
"Hold!" the druid called out, raising a hand. "You will not take him. You will not bring up the blood. The raven will fly. The blood will not flow. There is nothing you can do to stop it. And if you try, I will stop you."
Anomen's face filled with fury. "Get back, Harpy!" he snapped, turning to her. "You are no longer here. Your role is over. You have decided to leave the raven, and now he will not fly. The blood will flow if we say it will flow. Your decision has been made; you cannot go back on it now." Then he hit Harrian with the mace.
"Harrian!"
The shout came from an unknown source, and seemed devoid of any discerning tone, emotion; was unidentifiable as male or female, human or otherwise, worldly or divine. It was also accompanied by the drenching feeling of a bucket of cold water hurled on you.
Harrian sat bolt upright, feeling water running down the back of his neck, and he shivered before glaring at Imoen, who was holding an empty bucket, crouched next to him in his tent. Her eyes were dark and sunken, and it seemed she had not slept much. Beside her, Anomen was much the same, but he held a roll of parchment.
"Your wake-up techniques have become increasingly unfriendly," Corias sniffed, wiping water off his face and out of his eyes. "What's the panic? We haven't been set about by bandits again, have we?"
Anomen snorted his usual snort. "Jaheira's gone," the cleric said bluntly, shoving the parchment in his hands. "Some mysterious old man gave us this, then vanished. There is most certainly something amiss."
Harrian's eyes widened with a trace of panic, and he hurriedly unrolled the parchment. Then he swore as he saw what was written.
Harrian,
Goodbye. No sappy farewells or crying over how things must be; I do neither of these things well, nor would I wish to. I have made a decision; one that is not ideal, but it is necessary. I can go nowhere without this shadow, and I wish to leave it behind. I am returning to the Harper Hold that I might face judgement there. I will plead the case as we saw it for whatever they accuse, and if they do not see reason then I will suffer what I must. Galvarey had detractors as well as allies, so I believe I can end this in my favour. If not, at least it will be an end.
I do not ask you to follow. I do this for myself, and there will be little or no gain for you. You may still be a target of violence, but perhaps their interest in you will wither beside the capture of a 'traitor.'
For better or worse, I am taking control once more. I hope to see you again in better times.
With Nature's love and mine,
Jaheira
The thief froze with an intense fear and panic before he looked up at the pair before him. "When… when was this? When did she leave?" he demanded hurriedly. "What time is it? How long has she been gone?"
Anomen grabbed him as the swashbuckler attempted to leap to his feet. "It is just after dawn. We believe she has been gone for over six hours. We only received this note a mere moment ago."
Harrian shrugged off his grip and slid out of the tent, only in his tunic. The first thing he did was step on a twig, and thus the first great noise of the morning was his yelp of pain as he leapt about a foot in the air.
Haer'Dalis appeared beside him, looking mildly concerned. "Any trouble, my raven?" he asked lightly, raising an eyebrow.
Corias glared at him, rubbing his foot ruefully. Then he froze at the brief flashback the word 'raven' brought. He shrugged it off. "We're going to Athkatla," he said quietly as the others approached. "Now. We can be there by sunset."