Finduilas: thank you for the review. I followed your suggestions in the last review, and I'm glad you liked the part when Cordis reflects about humans. It's one of the good parts of this story, I think. As for Imoen and Kelsey, well… it was the idea I got from Jason Compton's modified epilogues. Not my idea, or if it is, then it's my saturated memory's fault ;-) I hope I don't offend Kelsey's author by unknowingly misquoting him or something, lol.

So, to anyone… here is another chapter with a little battle… Tell me what you think of it; is it still too much gamespeak? It is more fighting and less spells or tactics, so… just tell me.

Chapter III. Anomen's tale (There's finally something coming out of Samir's lessons!)

They found their horses where they had left them earlier in the morning. Amousca mounted her small calimshite horse with elven grace. They started soon after for the camp where they had slept the night before. They were riding slower this afternoon than this morning; some were still wounded or drained.

They reached the camp a few hours later. The lady was offered the honour to go bathe first and she accepted, after offering her gratitude to all the others. She disappeared upstream, hidden from their sight by a rock and a dense copse of trees.

Squires were ordered to start the fires, other squires were ordered to bring back water from the river, knights took a while to rest and pray and healers went about the camp, checking on everyone. Echigam was awake now and, even if a little weak still from his serious injury, he was smiling and taking part in the chores of the camp. Anomen surveyed the camp with a watchful eye; everyone seemed relax and happy enough. There was a definite festivity in the air, the ambiance of a glorious victory. He walked about, patting backs and congratulating and encouraging.

He could see that the men were happy to serve with him, under him. It always felt a little strange to him to be a commander, when he stopped to think about it. He knew he was nothing like Keldorn, what a natural leader of men he had been. He was not even close to Sarevok or Imoen when it came to influence over people. But he liked to believe that his men followed him because they respected him, and trusted his competence as a strategist, a healer and a fighter. Soon he reached squire Theophilus.

"Well," he began, "squire, I remember seeing you giving a powerful strike to the lich. A good hit. I see that you are taking your lessons of combat in arms to heart."

"I also take my lessons as an inquisitor to heart," the young man retorted.

Anomen stared at him with all the ire he could summon. The other's gaze faltered.

"I hope there is nothing specific you are implying, squire?"

"No, sir," the other mumbled.

"Good, because this is the last time I will tolerate you doubting my word that lady Cordis can be trusted."

And with that, Anomen turned away, leaving the other staring at his feet, seething anger still visible in the flush of his cheeks and ears. Anomen remembered how he used to be so much like him. He smiled to himself and went on with his back-patting. If Theophilus just found focus to his anger and did not become over-zealous, he would be a good inquisitor. He was a talented fighter with the halberd and his True seeing never failed. If he could just stop to automatically suspect everything that remotely looked less than righteous…

He noticed that Cordis was back from her bath. Her strange, black hair was free, although it was plastered to her head because of the water. He noticed Proteor staring at her again and repressed an edge of anger. The cavalier was not ogling her this time; it was an honest stare, intrigued and appreciative, but not disrespectful. Anomen sighed and turned his attention elsewhere.

He went to sit with his officers near one of the fires. He set to the task of shining his weapons and armour with the rest of them, exchanging tactical comments about the past battle.

"Pit fiends are strong and quick," Nogam observed. "It is against nature that such a big creature can be so quick and limp."

"They are not natural, they are magical. Hellishly, evilly magical," Guervin said, shifting his blade between his hands.

"Indeed," Anomen agreed. "But their height makes them easier targets for short, slashing weapons."

"I believe you are referring to Mazzy's short sword in particular?", Matteo smiled.

"Aye," Anomen agreed. "The halfling lass has an impressive dexterity herself. She had developed an extremely efficient strategy to get rid of huge creatures like dragons, giants or demons. She would slip behind them and cut their Achille's tendon. It was very efficient, let me tell you."

"Most of us cavaliers did wield two-handed weapons," Proteor concurred. "It was hard to strike the demon's head or neck and his chest was well-protected by its scales and ribcage."

"Blunt weapons are also efficient in those cases," Anomen added. "The traditional knee-crushing is always useful."

"Yes, but then you have to get very close to the demon," Matteo objected. "What is to keep you from ending impaled on its claws like Echigam?"

Anomen sighed. "Good teamwork. A summon to keep it busy, or a blinding spell. Another team-mate keeping it distracted. It is not easy, but its mobility must be impaired if it is to be a target for two-handed slashing weapons."

The officers nodded.

"What makes it hard is that they are not stupid," Proteor added. "I did try to focus the demon's attention upon me, but it systematically lunged for the easiest prey."

"Yes, they do that too. It's worse when one or two spellcasters are in the way."

Everyone saw the look of remembered concern cross his face.

"I bet it is," Guervin grinned. "Now, will you grant us another of those many, glorious adventures from your past, milord?"

"This one was not so glorious, I am afraid. It was when I passed briefly through the Underdark in my lady's service, as a step towards Irenicus, which we were chasing at that time. We had agreed to help a village of Svirfneblin to get rid of a great evil that they had awoken because they had dug too deep."

ooooo

Anomen walked warily at Keldorn's left, to the head of the formation. Mazzy was at Keldorn's right, her short sword drawn and held at the ready. The line of fighters made a collective step forward when Imoen, just behind them, told them that the ground ahead was clear of traps. Behind Imoen was Amousca and Minsc was the rear-guard, a magical arrow notched on Heartseeker's string.

They soon reached the door that the svirfneblin mayor had talked about; two fighters were guarding it. The gnomes looked happy enough to leave their post to the surfacers and newcomers.

"We need to discuss battle tactics before we go in there," Amousca said when the gnomes were out of earshot. Her face was devoid of expression, as was her voice and posture. Anomen looked at her with concern. It seemed that, lately, every emotion faded out of her gradually; even her sudden bursts of fire and anger in the Asylum were dulled now. His heart ached to see her so grey and even. He remembered how lively she had been. How dead she looked now.

She ordered him, with her ever-neutral tone, to protect them from evil and from fear. She said she would summon two Mordenkainen's swords and had Imoen Animate dead. Anomen had just one Free action in memory, so she told him to use it on himself; Keldorn had his family armour and Mazzy, Arabane's sword. He obeyed without a word. He did not know how to talk to her anymore.

Then they went in the chamber and Amousca strutted forward until the very edge of the hole in the ground. Looking down, there was nothing in her elven darkvision. Nothing but absolute black, just like when she looked inside of herself. She thought of the darkness engulfing her. So much was dark.

They positioned themselves in a three-line formation, summons ahead. Anomen turned to see where Amousca was. He thought he saw a flicker of darkness. The Duergar's ring of infravision did not clear out all of the blackness. He began to wonder why she was staying still so long, so close to that hole of black. Then he was sure he saw a flicker of blackness, like a dark wing trying to envelop her. His heart fell into a tight grip. He lunged forward and grabbed her arm as she was swaying on her feet, apparently ready to fall forward into the never-ending blackness.

He saw the darkness dissolve around her at his touch, but she did not look up to him. She was staring down, with her face as hard as steel.

"It is coming."

She made a step back.

"Go back into formation," he ordered her. It was not a good idea to have her stuck between him, Keldorn, her summoned blades and a demon. The svirfneblin had said it was powerful; regarding what they had been battling in the Underdark besides Drow, this was not reassuring.

ooooo

"What else then Drow?", Guervin interrupted.

"Oh, kuo-toa and suhuagin. Those were slow enough; some wizards and priests among them, as well as an efficient military training, but they are not skilled enough. There were also Illithid and ulitharid; the mind flayers are real plagues, but with a Chaotic commands they at least cannot stun you, but they can still drain you of your brain, so it's always a good idea to have a summoned creature or two to distract their attention. The worse, by far, are the beholders. It is not pleasant when they turn three fighters into stone and they can hardly be webbed."

"It is peculiar to hear a knight of the Order speak so much of the magic of spellcasters. Your battle tactics are often influenced by this time in the company of magic users," Nogam observed.

"Yes. It is during my adventures with my lady that I defeated the most powerful foes, and I cannot imagine doing so without the help of Imoen's and Amousca's magic. Just as they could not have done so without warriors and a healer."

"Of course," Nogam agreed with a smile.

"Shall I continue?"

The hurried nods made him smile.

ooooo

Amousca did not have time to move; they heard the first of the groans of the demon. She took two steps towards her place in the formation, but then the demon extirpated himself out of the pit. Anomen felt the fear grip his heart, even through the magical protection of his own spell. The demon was huge. It was even bigger than the tanar'ri they had had to kill to power up the Sphere.

ooooo

"Bigger than a tanar'ri?", one of the squires wondered. The circle of listeners was quickly expanding. Anomen smiled again. If only Samir could see me now.

"What was it?", another of the squires asked; this one was a cavalier.

"It was a balor."

There were hushed sounds of wonder as he went on with his story.

ooooo

The balor was huge, red and scaly. Its eyes were full of flames that promised of a painful death and even more painful torments for eternity in the Abyss. It had large, clawed wings and claws that bore talons. They were as sharp as razors and they sunk effortlessly twenty centimetres into rock as the demon escalated the wall of the pit to reach ground level. It breathed smoke between its gnarled horns. There were dark, reddish splashes on its horns. Its spiked back towered over them all, at least four feet above Minsc's head.

"Hand-to-hand!", Amousca yelled, before she made a step sideways to clear the way.

Anomen, Keldorn, Mazzy and Minsc rushed forward at her command. Her magical blades followed, metal whistling against the air with serious intent.

Anomen rushed to one of the sides of the demon, letting Keldorn take the front assault; him and Carsomyr needed space. Mazzy took the right and began to slash through wing and calf, everything that came within reach of Arabane. Anomen heard Imoen and Amousca both starting to cast. He did not have the time to try to recognize what was their spell. Minsc was already held.

The demon suddenly stood up, stretching upwards from its recoiled battling posture, letting a low and gurgling sound out of his throat. Anomen lunged for the occasion and rammed his Hammer of thunderbolts as hard as he could, wearing the Gauntlets of Ogre power, into the rib cage of the demon. Anomen heard the sound of cracking bone and felt his arm become numb to the shoulder with the unyielding solidity of the demon's side. The balor merely grunted before it recoiled again, turning its fiery gaze upon the warrior-priest. Anomen felt the fire sear through his mind and he closed his eyes. Without the Free action, he would have been paralysed. When he opened his eyes just an instant later, the demon had turned its gaze elsewhere.

He took a step back and let one of the Mordenkainen's sword fill the gap in the line of attackers. Imoen was over with her spell; it was a Lower resistance.

"Amousca's out!", Imoen yelled. "Hurry up, you bunch of cannon fodder! I can't kill it all by myself!"

Anomen winced. He looked behind him and saw Amousca, paralysed by the demon's glance. He started his spell. He prayed to Helm as he cast.

The Bolt of glory fell from the "sky" of the Underdark in a ball of yellow fire. The demon grunted again. It stretched upward and Keldorn drove Carsomyr across its stomach, the total length of the blade. Anomen had the time to see Imoen being paralysed by the balor's eyes. He rushed forward, aiming for a knee, just as he saw Keldorn struggling to free his blade and Mazzy swiftly sidestepping the demon's leg, ready to hit him behind the ankle.

The demon laughed, a terrible laugh, so loud the walls shook. Anomen felt the vibration deep within his chest. The beast crouched and jumped upward before Anomen's hammer touched it. The balor spread its wings as it jumped and gave two flaps of his wings, just enough to float for a second. Anomen's hammer missed miserably, carrying him forward. Keldorn stumbled backwards, Carsomyr brutally freed from the demon's insides. In the split second it took the demon to jump off the ground, he gathered himself and knocked Mazzy in the head with its foot, so hard she almost flew backwards. Her helmet flew off her head, hitting Imoen in the process, and Arabane was knocked out of her hand. She sprawled on the ground backwards, squirming on the ground, too confused to think to get away.

Anomen and Keldorn, horrified, lunged towards the demon, weapons at the ready, but he avoided them easily, merely floating on the side. Then he stopped to beat his wings and fell down on Mazzy. His eyes were alight with fire again and both knights saw the demon's gaze hold her. It fell upon her with hellish speed and ferocity. It ran her through with his claws.

Fortunately, Carsomyr slashing a wing in half and the Hammer of thunderbolts nearly breaking its hip distracted its attention, and it forgot to turn its claws as it extracted them from its victim. The demon turned its gaze of death upon Keldorn… and the paladin froze.

Anomen almost had the time to disbelieve what he saw. The Firecam family armour was supposed to grant Keldorn Free action. Anomen found himself praying feverishly that his spell would not end just then. And that the balor could not dispel magic. But then the demon knocked him away with a blow of his wing; the wing smashed into him from head to toe and sent him flying against one of the stone pillars, meters away.

And then the beast took off again, despite its wounded wing. It flew over the magical blades, hunching to one side, and landed right in front of Amousca and Imoen. Imoen's contingency made her invisible, but the demon could see her very clearly, because it threw both claws forward and each hit one of the spellcasters. It began exploding Stoneskins effortlessly as the magical blades and Anomen rushed back to attack it.

Anomen stopped half-way and called upon Helm once more to cast a Bolt of glory. Again it hit the demon and this time its injured wing was ripped off. The demon cried furiously and stopped to hit Amousca and Imoen. Both were out of Stoneskins. The balor had bitten Amousca's shoulder, apparently wanting to taste of elven flesh; a terrifying amount of her seemed to be missing and the blood was already staining her dress down to her waist. Imoen had been run through in the stomach, just as Mazzy.

The demon laughed again, as it turned towards Anomen, casually avoiding the Mordenkainen's swords. It munched conspicuously. Anomen felt like being sick. Sick of anger. Rage welled up inside of him, unleashed from some remote corner of his mind where it kept quiet, now. He had thought it gone with his Test, thanks to his lady's love. But he had been wrong. It was still there. And it was burning within him, giving him strength in his hour of need.

He was uninjured, practically. The balor went to Minsc, going farther from Anomen, and run him through with his claws too.

"I do like them when they are still warm," the beast said, with this demonic voice.

"This one is a little too warm for you to taste!", Anomen yelled as he finally, finally came within reach. He brought his weapon down on the demon's knee with all his might and all his soul. The demon lashed at his back with both claws, letting out a wail of pain that seared like fire into Anomen's mind. Anomen stepped out of the demon's reach. His back was burning. But he was still standing and he was still strong. And the demon was injured.

"I shall eat you first to heal myself, mortal insect!", the demon bellowed as it gathered itself.

Anomen carefully lifted his shield in front of him, unsure of what the balor intended. It was not a beast to beat on a one-on-one combat. The demon lunged forward in a sudden heap and collided with Anomen's shield with his hardened shoulder.

Anomen and the demon rolled on the floor in a confused mass of wing and scales and metal. The warrior-priest managed, to his amazement, not to end up under the balor's body at the end of the roll. He even managed to keep his shield and strike a hit before standing away.

The demon crouched into a defensive and measuring posture. He fended and retreated with Anomen for a few minutes. The human knew the demon was letting him tire himself and lose more blood. But the balor himself had one of his wings torn, a knee reduced to pulp, two great cuts that were bleeding its dark blood to the floor of the cave. Its breathing was whistling, his lungs filling with blood from its broken ribs.

Anomen felt a quiet overcome him. He saw very clearly what he had to do. He remembered his lady's smile. One of her swords was going to lash at the demon's Achilles tendon any second. The other was in front, vainly trying to hit the beast's rib cage.

He lunged forward, aiming for the second knee of the balor. The demon blocked easily with its claws and tried to hit back with his left claws, but Anomen blocked with his shield. His shield arm exploded with the feeling of crawling ants as he heard the splintering of wood. But he was balanced on his feet; his war hammer was high; he was ready.

He saw understanding fill the demon's gaze as he brought his hammer down. The balor tried to move back, but its destroyed knee would not hold its weight. It dropped on its knee. Its gaze filled with fire and hell.

"Take that!", Anomen triumphed.

The Hammer of thunderbolts crashed down on the demon's skull. It exploded and the balor let out a last wail of pain, fire escaping its eyes and breath as it died.

Everything was still.

The only sound was the rasping of his breathing and the rasping of his companions.

Anomen dislodged his war hammer with disgust. He let down the Dragon shield; it was nearly splintered in two. His arm was probably broken, but he couldn't be sure until it was a little less numb, at least. Despite the longing in his heart he evaluated the condition of all their companions. All but Keldorn and Amousca had been run through by the demon's claws. Imoen looked on the edge of collapsing, even under the paralysing spell. But Amousca's face was not even white anymore, it looked somewhere between greenish and grey.

Anomen went to his lady's side and cast one of his most powerful healing spells on her. Her shoulder reappeared in one piece, although there were still bleeding marks of teeth in it. But there were more urgent wounds to be taken care of.

ooooo

Anomen heard the collective sigh of relief as he told them the end of his story.

"Lessons learned," he said with a smile. "Only count on the Free actions."

There were relieved laughs around the fire. They had all been holding their breaths. Guervin grinned. "Well, my friend, I believe this is rather inconsistent with you telling us that you could not have defeated the most powerful foes without magic."

"I could not have hit it with my last strike if the demon had not been manoeuvring to avoid the Mordenkainen's swords," Anomen answered. "Those are very powerful summoned ones and, even if they had no hope of hitting a balor, they were still threatening enough for it to take the time to avoid them."

"I see. And you do not object to a weak female calling you "bunch of cannon fodder"?", Nogam inquired, barely hiding his laugh.

Anomen sighed dramatically. "I do have an objection, but I have learned to my expense that it is better not to get Imoen going on such subjects."

Matteo burst into laughter.

"Ah, women," Proteor sighed exaggeratedly.

"Speaking of women, Anomen," Guervin suddenly said, loud, "you're getting pretty spineless if you let your woman tell you what to do. You let her deprive you of your beard, this statement of your virility?"

There were some laughs. Cordis, on the outskirts of the gathering, on Anomen's side not to catch his attention, almost strangled herself not to burst into laughter. The few squires close to her apparently remembered that there was a woman in their ranks, but the rest had forgotten her presence. But maybe Anomen hadn't.

Guervin was wearing a full beard, like many of the young knights of the Order. It was generally considered more "manly" amongst the young men of Athkatla to wear a beard, at the moment.

"I do allow myself to please my lady in this way and others," Anomen answered with an ironic bow. This time there were laughs, shouts and some dirty comments. Cordis smiled to herself. This was how men behave when they had forgotten they were not among themselves. She could tell that Anomen was dying of envy to look her way.

"Your lady prefers you… unmanly?", Guervin pressed his friend.

"Maybe we should ask a lady's opinion on the matter," Matteo interrupted suddenly, lifting his cup of tea in Cordis's direction.

The howls quickly calmed down as the men were reminded that they were not alone. Anomen turned to her slowly.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?", she asked, with a playful smile that made a few of the knights whistle, but her voice all professional and cold.

There was a second of silence as Anomen looked at her. "Granted, milady. I have already told you that we value your opinion." There were more howls at that, but it was still reasonably contained and disciplined.

"It makes you look younger, sir, and it makes your eyes softer," she said, loud enough to be heard from the other side of the gathered men. There was some glitter of amusement in her eyes that told Anomen that she was not done yet. He was suddenly grateful that he still wore his full scale mail. She was insolent, with this pretence of military discipline. She was not usually like this; maybe it was the disguise that gave her this kind of boldness, but he was used to a much quieter version of herself. Half-elves and their frivolity, he added in an after-thought. Matteo had to start this, obviously. Had he no idea of what it was like to be called "sir" by her all over the place – he blushed –, and have her look at him like that – he blushed deeper – and tell this in front of all the Order's men – he now had to think to breathe ? Probably, and that was probably what was making it funny. He braced himself inwardly for what she would say next.

She suddenly waved her body, almost imperceptibly, but there was a rush in his blood. He hoped the fire could be blamed for his sudden colors. This slight move was one she usually made only when they were in private, and when she was leaning into him; it was her way of requesting that he lowered his head to allow her to kiss him. Amousca disguised as Cordis said immediately: "But I believe it makes your lips particularly conspicuous."

There were howls of laughter; even Matteo almost strangled himself, as he was taking a sip of tea. There were wild shouts and laughs and wails in the camp, a level of sound impressive for not more than thirty men. Suddenly a voice rose, indignant:

"Dishonour!", it shouted.

Amousca/Cordis was not surprised to see Theophilus objecting.

"How dare you say such depraved things about a wed man! Do you wish to dishonour his wife?"

She turned calm again, as did the camp around them. There were some whispers, however, people asking what was wrong with the annoying inquisitor. "Do you allow me to answer for myself, sir?", she asked Anomen. His best efforts to control his arousal were utterly ruined by his wife calling him "sir" again.

"Of course, milady."

She turned to Theophilus. "I meant no disrespect to either your commander or his wife. I merely wished to participate in the merry ambiance of tonight's victory and to socialize with the group. I thought the mood was to lightness, but I can refrain from being light in your presence, if it offends you."

There was more laughter and Theophilus, after one wounded glare at Anomen, sat back.

"My son asked for the opinion of a lady on the matter and I gave her the permission to say what she thought, Theophilus," Anomen said. "I take no dishonour in her comment, nor would my lady Amousca if she were here, I am sure."

Theophilus did not answer, but still it spoiled the mood for a while. Anomen felt the anger of Theophilus from where he stood, and he knew the others disliked him. The inquisitor reacted like that about lots of things and most disliked his attitude. He was annoying and arrogant, and had not enough glorious battles behind him to force the respect of the others. His commander hoped he would learn, in time.

ooooo

That night, Amousca restlessly tossed into her bedroll. She was not used to sleeping on the rough anymore, and she found the floor uneven and her bed cold. Of course, Anomen's presence usually contributed to make her bedroll considerably warmer. But it was not the physical discomfort that kept her awake.

It was the knowledge of what terrible spell she carried in her scroll case now that made sleep inaccessible. Try as she might, she could not figure a reason why the Rapture of the Father could be found in a lich's tower. The idea that this horrible spell she had survived was manufactured and distributed to evil spellcasters around Faerun made her very uncomfortable. Moreover, she had not had a single minute in private with Anomen to discuss it with him. She needed to hear him say that they would figure it out. She knew they would, but somehow when he was the one who said it, it was easier to believe.

She finally found sleep an hour later, and nightmares of Irenicus, the Slayer and Amelyssan came to torture her again after many years of peaceful sleep.