Chapter 75: Corruption

Jaheira sat next to the roaring fire absently, rubbing her hands together and shifting as close to the flames as she dared for warmth. The room she was being kept in at the Harper Hold was in a distant wing, and thus was one of the coldest in the entire building. It had taken a considerable amount of cajoling to convince her two guards – currently standing guard outside the room – that she would not attempt to escape with the aid of extra firewood. Mercenaries were so dull it was sometimes painful.

She drew her cloak closer around her shoulders, resisting the urge to shiver. The hatch in the heavy oaken door at the threshold meant the guards could see inside. They were doubtless more cold than she was, in this dark hour of the night, and she wanted them to be as jealous as possible, thinking she was snug and warm as they froze. Thus a shiver was not allowed.

Jaheira had, well and truly, thrown herself into a hole. Upon arriving at the hold she had been set upon by a group of 'Harpers' and imprisoned in this room. It had taken little to work out that the group she had been captured by were not of the Harp – the Spectral Harpists that usually frequented a place such as this were absent, and the manner of her captors spoke brutal mercenary, not warrior of balance.

But they were working for whoever was behind this vengeance quest – it could be Dermin, or it could be some even higher power – and thus their being mercenaries hired by someone searching for revenge meant that appealing for them was not really an option. So she had to sit tight and find some way to escape before whoever was in charge decided what was to happen to her.

She had been here three days already, and no chance had presented itself. She was kept under close guard, her equipment Silvanus knows where, and there was obviously no rescue party coming after her. Harrian was not leaping to save her.

Jaheira supposed she shouldn't have expected it to happen. After all, when she had thought she was turning herself into the Harpers, she had anticipated Harrian keeping his nose clean of all of this. Now she actually needed him to come to the rescue, she wanted him to do so. And he was elsewhere.

He had obviously sacrificed her to avoid more struggled against the Harpers. He had seen she was gone and been thankful that she had saved him more strife. He would go on against Irenicus, leaving her to her fate simply because it suited him, regardless of the fact that she would die here…

Jaheira swore in elven, standing abruptly. A flicker at the hatch in the door showed the guards outside were poking their heads in to investigate. She ignored it. That bastard! How dare he, after all she'd done for him! No matter what she'd said, no matter whether or not she'd asked him to come to the rescue, he was supposed to come and save her, damn it! Not because of what he felt, or what she felt… which was nothing beyond great friendship, of course… but… Harrian had made a promise to Khalid! He was breaking that promise, by the gods!

She resisted the urge to scream with frustration, holding back tears of panic. No… no crying. She was in control here. She was not going to break down because of him. She was self-sufficient. She didn't need Harrian to get her out of this mess. She was a druid. She was a Harper. She would survive.

Jaheira strode purposefully to the barred window on the far side of the tiny stone room, and tugged hopefully at the iron bars. They resisted firmly, and she sagged, already defeated. The main door was not an option. Even if she could get through the windows, it was a long way down. That left secret passages… but what kind of idiot made a secret passage in a room to be used as a cell? It would take the most stupid of captors to do such a thing.

She tapped lightly at the stones in the wall, a little disappointed as they yielded no results. Maybe they weren't buffoons after all. Damn… that made things considerably harder. A stupid opponent was always the best one, except for those so devious they tripped over their own feet and got paranoid in thinking everyone else was as Machiavellian as they were.

Something had to have happened to Harrian. Though her fears told her that he had just abandoned her, her heart and mind knew otherwise. He would have chased her to the ends of the world if he thought he could help her, and being told not to do so would presumably making him more willing to leap to her defence. After fighting a duel on her behalf, attacking a nobleman and intervening on one of the oldest traditions nature had to offer, she couldn't doubt his feelings. She could only wonder how deep they went.

Something had to have happened to him, she reasoned, and winced as her stomach dropped out. There was a faint crashing noise in the distance, and Jaheira briefly wondered if that was her heart hitting rock bottom.

The second crash jerked her out of her reverie, letting her know that there was actually something going on out there. The sound of clanking armour and steel on steel could be heard from outside, and as the flicker at the hatch told her the guards by her door had shifted, the druid hurried forwards and put her eye to the gap.

One of them, the uglier and fatter one, glared through the hatchway. He had to half some Orc blood in him somewhere. "Get back in there, lovely," he leered, grimacing. "We'll handle this." The hatch snapped shut, and Jaheira let fly some more choice curses.

The shouts from outside gave her more of an idea of what was going on, especially the long scream cut short by a sickening crunch. The voice had sounded particularly like that of the part-Orc gaoler.

Then the door swung open, and Jaheira leapt back so as not to be crushed by the heavy oak surface moving at high speeds. Her heart leapt into her mouth as Anomen Delryn stepped heroically through the doorway, his purple cloak flapping behind him, his armour shining so brightly – in the spots it wasn't covered in blood – it seemed almost divine in its appearance.

Jaheira cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, you most certainly took your time," she drawled, shaking her head. "A rather messy appearance it seems, too," she added, peering around the cleric to see the jailer's smashed-in head as Keldorn entered the room. "Where's Harrian?"

Anomen threw her a chain-shirt wordlessly. As she deftly caught it, she noticed it was her original one, and idly wondered where they had found her gear. Keldorn passed her the shimmering scimitar Belm as Delryn rooted through the pack on his back for yet more of her affairs. The druid raised the eyebrow even higher. "Well?"

Anomen passed her a shield and helmet. "Do not be flippant, my lady," he responded shortly. "This is not the joyful reunion you may have envisaged. Harrian and the others have been captured by the vampire Bodhi, and we have to rescue them."

Jaheira rocked back on her heels, shocked. "What?" she repeated, disbelief in her voice as she slipped on the chain mail Anomen had passed her. It fit as perfectly as it always had, comfortable like a worn pair of boots.

Delryn quickly related everything that had taken place over the past few days, skimming over as much of his leaving the Order as possible. He didn't want to dwell on that at this particular point in time – there would be chances for that later, and besides… Jaheira was not his first choice for those to bear his heart to. Harrian, Imoen… yes, he dared think it, even Yoshimo.

"Bodhi." Jaheira spat the word out like a curse as she slid Belm into its sheath. "If he is in the clutches of the vampires, who knows what they want or what they will do with him." She visibly suppressed a shudder. "On the positive side, we need no longer fear the recriminations of the Harpers – for those running this hold are not Harpers, merely mercenaries hired by whoever is at the bottom of this insane quest for vengeance."

Anomen glanced briefly at the remains of the gaoler. "Good," was all he said, simply. "So we are free of their machinations for now? And what of your friend Dermin; should we expect him to show his head any time soon."

Jaheira nodded. "I believe so," she responded as unemotionally as possible. She was similarly unhappy to bear her heart to Anomen, and would wait until – no if, merely until – they had rescued Harrian before she would dwell. There was business to attend to. "But let us go. Every moment we talk is another moment the vampires could be… feasting… on them…"