Part 6 Luskan's Champion

I could scarcely believe it when Lorne Starling strode into the courtroom. He gave me a flat stare as if I were a stranger and then he offered his blade 'in Luskan's name' to Torio for the trial by combat. Haeronmos in Port Llast had told me there was a giant Luskan called Lorne in Garius' service but I hadn't let myself believe it was him.

"Why do we even bother with evidence and trials?" complained Sand, as we waited for the crowd to leave the courtroom. "Give everyone a bloody big sword and let them hack away at each other. Trial by combat, indeed. And here I thought some vestiges of civilization still existed in Neverwinter."

"It's him," Shandra said in shocked outrage. "He's the one that killed all those people. He's the man Marcus described. How dare he come in here and call you a liar and all along it was him! Sweet Chauntea, how I hope those murdering Luskans get sent to the lowest hells."

"Blasphemous witch," Sand muttered. We both stared at him in some surprise.

"Torio," he said. "She thinks to send Ember's murderer against you in a trial by combat? Before Tyr himself? Does she believe no justice exists in the realms? Does she truly believe the gods will stand for such arrogance? How desperate she must be."

"Sand," I whispered and I pulled him aside. "Where are the Luskan ambassadors staying?"

"In the Blacklake district." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Can you find out where exactly?"

"Why?" he asked again. "I will not be a party to assassination, my dear girl, tempting as the thought may be."

"No, no, nothing like that," I said. "I just need to send a message. Can you help me?" He continued to scrutinize me and finally turned up his palms in resignation.

"Of course," he sighed.

I had an assignation to meet Lorne and now I wondered if I were nine kinds of fool. I had to understand why he was standing against me. I didn't see how I could face him in battle tomorrow without an explanation. I would go mad. However, he would have to be wondering if this was some kind of trap. What if he decided to set a trap of his own? If I didn't show up at the arena tomorrow, I would be judged guilty. But if I didn't show up alone, Lorne probably wouldn't talk to me at all. I needed backup, invisible backup.

I found Bishop in his room. According to Duncan, he had lived there for quite some time, but the room was so neat and sterile, it seemed unoccupied. No mess or mementoes here to give any clue to his interests or personality. Barefoot, with his shirtsleeves rolled above his elbows, he was busy cleaning and oiling his leather. Karnwyr was curled in a corner, his tail over his nose. The wolf opened one eye as I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, then went back to his nap.

I had seen Daeghun at the same task many times. The smell of the oil made a wave of homesickness and loneliness approach. But there was no time for that nonsense.

"What do you want?" Bishop asked without looking up. His surly tone was bracing.

I took five amethysts and a particularly fine opal out of my pocket and dropped them on his dresser. He glanced up at the clink of the gems.

"I need your services for a few hours this evening."

One eyebrow rose and he looked from the gems to my body to my face. A slow, deliberately insulting appraisal. Pure Bishop.

"If this involves taking my clothes off, I'm not sure I'm that interested."

Despite my black mood, my lip twitched.

"I have to meet someone at dusk and I need you to watch my back."

"Why?"

"Because I plan to go unarmed and he's dangerous. I don't trust him." Bishop rolled his eyes.

"No, fool, why me? You have a paladin already watching your back, and your front, too, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I'd rather not involve Casavir in this." Bishop's eyed me speculatively.

"That so? Well, now. I wonder why not."

"Not your concern." His lip curled slightly.

"Aren't you supposed to be on your knees tonight with the priest?"

Only Bishop could make the Rite of Tyr sound sordid.

"I have to see this man first. Probably nothing is going to happen but I'd feel better if I knew there was someone out of sight watching me. I might be wrong."

"Where are you meeting him?"

"There's an empty warehouse past the park in the Merchant Quarter. Do you know it?"

"I can find it. An empty warehouse, at dusk. What in the hells kind of meeting is this, anyway? What are you up to, wench?"

"You know, Bishop, I didn't think you'd have so many damned questions," I said. "It's a job, can you do it or not?" His eyes narrowed.

"I ought to tell you to take your crap and get out."

"Go ahead," I said.

"And you'll go alone, is that it?" I shrugged. "Fine, then, I'm in. If you want to keep secrets from the paladin, suits me. But why go unarmed?"

"I need to talk to him. I don't want to look threatening." He snorted.

"You don't look in a mirror much, do you? A big strapping girl like you could dress all in scarves and feathers like a tavern dancer and you'd still look threatening," Bishop said flatly. "Wouldn't mind seeing you try, though."

"What do you suggest?"

"You'll definitely need to leave your big pig-sticking falchion at home. No need to go unarmed, though." He tossed me his sheathed knife. "Tuck that in your boot."

"Your favorite knife? I didn't know you cared." It hadn't occurred to me to hide a knife but it was a practical idea. I didn't like the way the sheath rubbed against my ankle but I supposed I'd get used to it.

"You'll be giving that back later or I'll be taking it off your corpse." He moved closer, looking me up and down again. "Is that what you're wearing tonight?"

"I hope you approve," I said dryly. Plain linen blouse tucked into trousers, leather boots.

"Not really. A skirt would be less 'threatening'. You might try letting your hair down though." His hands, strong, capable hands, explored the back of my head and pulled out the pins that held my braid in place. He stood so close that it was practically an embrace and my eyes fell before his challenging gaze. He pulled my braid apart and combed his fingers through my hair, fanning it out.

"Nice," he said as he leaned over my shoulder and buried his nose in my hair. I shoved him away. He grinned.

"That's an improvement, but if you want to look soft, why don't you open your shirt up a bit? Just about any man would be distracted with a peek at this." I took a step back but he moved with me and he loosened the ties that held my blouse closed.

"Hey!" I jabbed him hard with my elbow and he backed away.

"Just a suggestion," he said. He was laughing at me. "So who is this man you're seeing? You're not saying goodbye to some old lover, I hope. Are you worried that giant Luskan will slaughter you tomorrow?" He laughed at the flush I felt burning my cheeks. "I do believe that arrow hit the mark."

I closed my eyes a moment to avoid his mocking stare, but I felt his breath warm on my cheek, and his fingertips traced along the edge of my blouse, pushing it down a little.

"If I had known you liked dangerous men, we could have come to an arrangement."

I wondered if he was going to kiss me, and I wondered what I would do if he did. Then I realized that he was waiting and the next move was up to me. I sighed and slid away.

"Are you going to help me?"

"You won't see me, but I'll be there," he said. "If nothing better comes up, that is."

I knew he'd be there. His curiosity would bring him, if nothing else. Besides, he would want to get his knife back.

It was perhaps inevitable that coming out of Bishop's room with my hair down my back, my blouse undone, and a flushed face, I should run straight into Casavir. Hells, hells, hells.