Chapter 20…Confessions in the Dark

"Jess," Casavir said quietly. I hadn't heard him approach and I jerked my head up with a guilty start. Night fell quickly here in the hills and I'd been mending my clothes by mage light. Shadows danced erratically around me as the light tried to keep up with my movement.

He had hovered near me several times during the day since our unexpected meeting at the orc village but I'd managed to stay too busy to talk. He'd allowed me to brush him off earlier but I could see by the set of his jaw that I was out of excuses. The look I'd caught on Casavir's face while Uthanck toyed with Ralidor's severed head had made me deeply uneasy, particularly as I'd still been wearing my blood-stiffened robe. (Maybe one day, under Ammon's tutelage, I'd learn how to make it through a massacre without getting anything on me.)

Casavir had been in the orc village to see if they had any grain or vegetables to barter, but he returned to camp with Ammon and me after my lovely outburst. I guess my fit of rage put a damper on his trading. Ammon gave me one of his looks and then, in an unusual display of tactfulness, rode a little ahead, ostensibly out of earshot. I stole a sideways glance at Casavir. I sometimes found his expression difficult to read and that was definitely one of those times.

"Does your wound still trouble you?"

"It is healed," I said. He was quiet for a moment.

"Zhjaeve is feeling much better today as well."

My eyelids had fluttered closed as I opened a path to Bodo. Elanee once described to me how it felt to see through her animal companion's eyes, or to borrow the senses of other beasts. The tie to a familiar is different. I do not see through his senses (which would probably be quite bizarre). It is more like there is a chunk of me embedded within him that I can activate when I choose. It's like having an extra mobile eye that opens and focuses by my will.

I wasn't sure what Elanee thought of my relationship with Bodo but Daeghun had expressed his disapproval several times when I lived in his house. He considers Bodo to be enslaved, not bonded as an equal in a way he thinks is seemly. He's probably right. A familiar need be neither a friend nor a pet, although many mages treat them as such. I am fond of Bodo but, in all honesty, he is my tool. I understand why Daeghun finds that distasteful but I just can't feel that bad about it myself.

My first teacher, Tarmas was appalled when I chose a beetle. The connection with a familiar is not totally one-sided—when you put part of your being, for lack of a better word, into a living creature you may also take on something of its characteristics as well. Or maybe it just seems that way because the bond would never form if you weren't already compatible in a deep and basic way. I've always been weak on theory. Tarmas found it more than a little strange that I would bind myself to a verminous scavenger. You really are a Harborman, he'd told me, as if that had ever been in doubt.

Thinking on other mages' familiars, my choice seemed to fit me unflatteringly well. Tarmas' familiar was a raven that spoke Illuskan. I'd often wondered where he got it. The bird was curious, intelligent and even spoke with Tarmas' own ill-tempered tones. Sand's cat was a particularly aloof and patrician specimen. Qara's ferret was skittish and would put on a show of ferocity when startled. My Bodo wasn't cute or cuddly or even very bright but he was a tough little survivor who could eat just about anything and thrive just about anywhere. He really was the perfect Harborman.

At any rate, Bodo had still been watching Zhjaeve, as I instructed when I left with Ammon. With a jolt, my other eye opened. It took me a few breaths to get oriented and make sense of what I was seeing. Zhjaeve was outside, sitting under a tree. And she was wearing her veil. The sight of that ridiculous scrap of cloth cheered me tremendously.

I blinked and returned my consciousness to my own body. I managed to avoid falling off my horse during the process, so that was nice.

"Yes. She looks better. When did this happen?" I asked. There was a little frown of concern on Casavir's brow. I didn't think I drooled or did anything too disgusting when I scryed with Bodo but obviously he had noticed something.

"Sometime last night," he said.

"Oh." She'd felt better after I'd killed the bugbears. Perhaps Gruumsh's curse had not affected me alone. I could have asked what he thought but I wasn't sure opening the subject was a good idea. I wasn't sure opening any subject was a good idea. The silence between us grew and grew, becoming so large and uncomfortable that I'd become restless.

And so I'd caught up with Ammon and we rode back to camp. To my tremendous relief, Zhjaeve seemed herself again and she assured me that with rest, she would be able to travel the next day. I could see questions in her eyes as she took in my disheveled appearance but she held them for a better time. My Greycloaks had similar questions, no doubt, but I'd pushed them into a bustle of activity so we'd be prepared to break camp in the morning. Not that there was a tremendous amount that needed to be done, for Casavir was a great one for keeping a clean and orderly camp, but I wished to have an extra watch set, just in case. I was reasonably certain the Corpsewalkers wouldn't attack us in the night—surely they wouldn't have sent me and Ammon against the bugbears if they didn't respect our strength—but I wasn't totally certain.

These thoughts ran through my head as I looked up at Casavir. The camp was quiet, with those men not on watch sleeping, or at least resting. Zhjaeve was in our tent, deep in meditation.

"I wish to speak to you," he said. "Will you walk with me?"

There was no real way to avoid the hand he offered, so I let him pull me to my feet.

"Of course," I said unenthusiastically. I set the pants I'd been patching on top of my pack. I walked over to Ammon, who was fiddling with one of the straps on his saddle bag. "Keep an eye on Bodo for me," I told him with a bit of emphasis in my voice. By his scowl, I knew he caught my meaning—that Bodo would be keeping an eye on him, so he'd better not get any ideas about being my invisible shadow.

"I hear and obey, Knight Captain," he said. The slight glow from his tattoos, barely visible in his relaxed state, highlighted his sardonic expression. He gave Casavir a look under lowered brows that was not very pleasant. "Do not stray too far from the camp," he told me. Presumably he shared my doubts about the orcs.

I had enough self-control to keep from making a face but not enough to stop myself from muttering, "Yes, Papa." My words were so quiet that Casavir didn't hear me. Ammon narrowed his eyes at me however. I was fairly sure that one of the charms he wore gave him hyper-acute senses—augmenting his hearing for certain and probably his sight as well. I didn't know how he could stand wearing it all the time. Grobnar and I had played around with the Amplify spell one afternoon and I could still vividly recall the headache it gave me, not to mention the hideous ringing in my ears that I thought would never stop.

Our horses had worn a path down to the river and that's where Casavir led me. There was a sliver of moon showing, not really enough to see by, but I extinguished my mage light anyway. It felt too much like wearing a beacon over my head for any who might be watching the camp. Instead, I drew my sword and let its soft shimmer light my steps. I vaguely recalled Zhjaeve telling me that Gith never unsheathed her sword except to kill. If she saw me using the sword as a lantern she'd probably have an admonition for me but I'd just cleaned my boots and didn't much fancy stepping into horse dung again. Besides, it wasn't like anyone was ever going to mistake me for Gith. The blade didn't care.

We sat on the river bank and I set the sword beside me in the long grass, near to hand. Casavir looked out over the water. I could see his profile by the light of the sword, thoughtful and composed.

"Is something troubling you?" I asked.

"That was my question for you," he said, turning and studying my face. It would have been easy to give him a puzzled expression and a glib answer; to pretend that nothing had happened and nothing had changed. But we had traveled together for too long and had been through too much for such evasions to serve. Casavir had been by my side during some very dark times. He had been a steady presence when I was accused of the destruction of Ember and reviled as a monster. He had stood as my champion in my trial by combat. He knew I had been innocent of that terrible crime and he had fought as Tyr's instrument to vindicate me.

I wasn't innocent now. Perhaps I hadn't slaughtered unarmed villagers like my childhood friend Lorne Starling but I had certainly taken a step in that direction. I'd forced a battle where none was required. And although I had not attacked non-combatants—the children and their caretakers—I might have well have done so. Once I might not have understood the consequences of killing a keep's defenders. Now I did.

I wondered what Casavir saw when he looked at me and I was very much afraid that he was now compelled by his oaths to tell me. No paladin will serve an evil leader. Everyone knew that.

I plucked a long blade of grass to give my hands something to fidget with. The sound of the river flowing below us should have been soothing. It had a different sound to it than did the river that ran through the Mere—less languid and more purposeful, as if it knew it was headed to somewhere of greater importance and was anxious to arrive.

Without preliminary, I plunged into my tale.

"I went to Riverguard Keep and I…took it," I said, leaning back a little and directing my words to my knees. "I killed the sentries. The fighters. Ralidor and his guards. Even his priests. None of them asked why we were there. None of them tried to reason with me or beg for mercy. They just kept running out towards me with their weapons out. They made it easy for me. I killed them all." I gave a little sideways look, not at his face, but enough to see his silhouette in the grass beside me. Like me, he had one arm resting against his bent knees. He didn't recoil in horror, but then he must have guessed all this already.

"Ilrah was right," I said. "Oh, I didn't want to do it. Not at first. But once I started—once they came running towards me—I enjoyed it well enough. I'm getting better at killing, you know. This is a very fine sword." My hand caressed the hilt. And then I gave a shuddering sigh and lay my head down against my knees.

"Why did you do it?"

I rubbed my hip. The scar didn't hurt exactly but it felt tight and uncomfortable.

"Ilrah said I'd have to pay in blood. I thought he meant my blood and we'd be done—but it wasn't enough. Casavir, I didn't want Zhjaeve to die. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn't know I'd let the shaman curse me." I didn't check to see his reaction but continued to let the words spill out. "I didn't know I had to kill anyone and—well, I guess I didn't have to, really. I could have let the curse take me. I thought I understood the price but he tricked me, Casavir. And then when you couldn't remove the curse, I thought…perhaps you felt I deserved it. Or Tyr did. Ilrah told Ammon the curse would cripple me and I'd be of no use to anyone. Everything we've done would have been for nothing."

Casavir made a restless move.

"My Lord Tyr grants me some limited power to heal and restore," he said. "But I am not a priest. Removing the curse was beyond my strength but that is not to say that another could not have done so. My failure was no judgment upon you."

"Do you know that for certain?" Before he could answer, I added, "It doesn't matter now anyway. What's done is done and I can't undo it."

"What's done is not done until it is understood, until you have learned from it, and until you have atoned for any wrong-doing," Casavir said. "I fear these words are unwelcome to you but I pray that you will listen, Jess."

"I'm listening but I don't know if you can help me. I used to know what to do. It's getting harder, Casavir. I'm getting stronger and I'm not sure that is such a good thing. My mistakes are getting bigger and bigger."

"I know what it is to lose one's way," he said carefully. "You are under great pressure and I fear some of the influences upon you now are…not in your best interest." I waited for the diatribe against Ammon but it didn't come. Maybe he thought there was no point to it.

"Are you going to leave me now?"

Casavir turned to me. His face was in shadow but I could feel his eyes upon me.

"Is that your wish?" he asked in a neutral voice.

"I thought that was what you brought me here to tell me."

"I do not wish to leave your service." In a stronger voice, he added, "Jess, I am bound to this fight against the King of Shadows and I will support you in any way I can. But…"

"But it would help if I didn't screw up so bad."

He shook his head at me.

"You are faced with difficult decisions and I have no clear answers for you." More quietly, he added, "I wish I did." Silence fell between us again but this time it was not quite so uncomfortable. I waited while he marshaled his thoughts.

"I have never told you how I came to leave Neverwinter's service."

"I knew you disagreed with Nasher's policies about Old Owl Well." I'd never really believed Bishop's tale that he had fled the city due to some sordid sex scandal. That was just the type of story Bishop would delight in spreading and was scarcely credible to anyone with the slightest acquaintance with Casavir.

"Yes, but there was more to it than that, I'm afraid." He continued to look out over the water. "I am not at liberty to share the details but in the course of my duties for the Hall of Justice I stumbled upon some troubling information. And I found myself in a situation where I was asked to compromise the truth…for the greater good, I was told. More would suffer from knowing all the truth than from suppressing it, I was told. I was young and I trusted those who gave me my orders. And I thought I must be wrong—that my vision of my duty was too small—for these were men I respected, you see. If I thought what they told me was wrong then…the flaw must have been within me."

He turned and met my gaze. His words were spoken with little emotion but his eyes told a different account.

"I began to question the nature of my oaths and my understanding of them," he said. "And that broke something within me—my faith, I suppose. Perhaps I lost my belief that men were even capable of dispensing justice—I feared we were too flawed to do the god's work. And so I betrayed my vows and I left Neverwinter. I did not know what to do so I put my life on trial, as it were, at Old Owl Well."

His mouth turned down unhappily. I had an impulse to take his hand but I didn't see how my touch could be of any comfort to him, especially now.

"My actions were rash. Looking back, they seem an almost childish attempt to force Tyr's judgment, to make him speak to me in deeds if he would not speak in words, but he was merciful and…he brought you to me before I lost myself completely."

"But you were doing fine without me at Old Owl Well. Look how much you accomplished, how you made soldiers out of those farmers, and you protected Callum's forces as well."

"So many died. I threw myself into any skirmish that came my way. I was fighting without a plan, without a strategy, without even knowing if that was the purpose Tyr had planned for me. And I understand all too well the attraction to losing oneself in battle. Decisions are simpler there. When you came and we entered Logram's stronghold, I learned there was an even greater evil than orcs under my very nose, and an even greater cause that I could join myself to. I am in your debt for that."

"I don't see it," I said. "But if I helped you, I am glad."

"I was at the right place for the wrong reasons. I needed guidance. I had lost faith in my ability to find answers to the questions that troubled me. And I fear that you are at this point now. Do you remember the words of Sir Grayson, when he took you as his squire? I had those same beliefs impressed upon me when I was given to Neverwinter's service. 'To serve your land is to act righteously. If your cause is noble, so too are the actions you take in its name.' Do you remember what you said to him?"

"I said something along the lines that I would let my conscience be my guide." In hindsight, that sounded both priggish and arrogant, and not the wisest comment to make to the only knight in Nasher's court who had been willing to take me on. I'd been sincere enough at the time. "He didn't take that very well, as I recall."

"And have your views changed? Or are you allowing others to make your decisions now?"

"I guess you mean Ammon," I said.

"Yes."

I opened my mouth but I wasn't sure what words were going to come out. Casavir forestalled me.

"I do not wish to speak ill of Ammon Jerro but you have seen where his choices lead. He, too, was motivated by the desire to protect and serve his land. His cause was noble but have his actions been righteous? Is this what you wish for yourself?"

Before I could compose an answer, there was a rustle behind me. Bodo erupted from the long grass, scuttled up my leg and perched on my knee a moment, waving his antennae. Casavir gave him a startled look but I slewed around to watch the path.

"You might as well show yourself," I said. Ammon stepped out of the shadow of the trees behind us. Although he was not a particularly tall man, it seemed like I had to look up a long ways to meet his gaze.

"Come to bed, Jess. It is late and I wish us to have an early start," he said. "Surely the paladin has had enough time to thoroughly chastise you…and to criticize me for doing what had to be done."

"I'll come when I'm ready," I said. I thought there was a pretty clear dismissal in my voice but Ammon just stood there. "Believe it or not," I said slowly, "I am an adult and have been choosing my own bedtime for some little while now."

"I suppose so," he said and he gave Casavir such a look that I knew he was about to say something nasty. Bodo ran off for cover, as he always did when my temper was ready to flare. There was a part of me that was ready to jump on Ammon with both feet. A big rousing argument would make me feel—what? More alive? Less weary? Maybe it would distract me from my thoughts?

"Perhaps you're right," I said, trying hard not to sigh. I pushed myself to my feet. Casavir rose when I did and when I stooped to retrieve my sword, by its light I thought I saw a flash of anger on his face. "I'll see you in the morning," I told him. "Thank you." I gave his shoulder a brief pat. Ammon watched him head up the path with hard eyes.

"It's not that late," I told Ammon. "Was it really necessary to come interrupt me like that? Frankly, I don't appreciate it."

"If we are being frank then I will tell you that I do not appreciate you setting your insect on me as a spy. I was tempted to crush it underfoot."

"I don't particularly want to fight with you, Ammon, but if you insist…"

"No," he said. "That is not my purpose. I am anxious to leave this place and it makes me short of temper, perhaps."

One of Ammon's gracious apologies—would wonders never cease? My snort was not very ladylike.

"You cannot possibly be more anxious than I am to get away from here. But going to bed early will not make the sun rise any sooner, you know."

"Still, it is time you returned to camp. To spend so long with the paladin—alone—gives a peculiar appearance."

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Oh, dear me, talking to Casavir is going to sully my reputation with the Greycloaks. But it's fine for me to go off with you overnight. Come now, Ammon, you can do much better than that."

"I don't like it."

"Why not?" He just looked at me. "No, really, explain it to me. You know how dense I am. What is your problem with Casavir? And don't deny that you have one."

"I have no patience with Tyrrans. They wave their dedication to justice about like a banner—until their own transgressions are brought to light. Then all they clamor for is mercy. The justice Tyr promises is little more than a ploy by the god to gather followers. There is no true justice."

If lightning hadn't struck him by now, it probably wasn't going to blast him for this particular blasphemy, but I was tempted to take a step back anyway. Just in case.

"So…you don't care for Casavir's religious beliefs? That's all?" I gave him a dubious look.

"Of course that's not all that bothers me. Are you as blind as he is? As blind as the maimed god he follows? He may not admit his motives even to himself, but he would separate you from me if he could. At least I am honest in what I want."

"If you're trying to imply that Casavir is in love with me or something, then sorry, but you are the blind one."

"And do you imply that nothing more than duty binds him to your service? I do not claim to know his mind—if he even knows it himself, which I doubt—but I can assure you that he does not like to see the two of us together. It offends him deeply."

"Well…"

Ammon put his hands on my shoulders.

"He would turn you from me, if he could, and I know his words carry great weight with you. Now do you understand my 'problem' with him?"

I was rather shaken by the intensity in his eyes but I kept my voice light. I leaned towards him a little. His fingers dug into me, pulling me closer still.

"The role of jealous suitor does not sit well on you. It's not terribly convincing, Ammon."

"Is it not?" His hands dropped to my hips. Although his face was often stern and uncommunicative, his lips could be unexpectedly expressive. It was there that I looked when I wished to read his emotions. They twitched in self-directed mockery, I thought. "It is not a role I am comfortable with, I confess, yet I am a man much like any other. I do not care to see you paying such attention to another. Particularly not to him."

"Because you don't like him?"

"Because if there was true justice in the Realms, you'd be with him and not with me."