Author's Note: More minor changes.
Chapter 4…A Little Help
Daeghun wanted her to leave for Neverwinter that very night. She refused. Elves might not need sleep but she did. Not that she did much more than doze once she returned to her bed. Sometime before dawn Carona found herself trudging along the road out of the Mere. Mist lay along the ground like a smothering blanket. She walked quietly along the edge of the road, nerves strung tight, ready to duck into the cover of the woods at the first sound. Could those bladelings, whatever they were, really track her down? No doubt they were led by that mage who'd killed Amie. Perhaps it was he who'd scried the location of the shard in the first place.
If so, why in the Nine Hells had he and his creatures attacked West Harbor? Why hadn't his wrath fallen upon the lizard tribe in the ruins where the shard had been hidden? It made no sense, but what did she know of magic? Perhaps the stone of the ruins somehow obscured the shard's presence. Perhaps the scrying spell was inaccurate. Or perhaps the bladelings were searching every settlement in the Mere.
The simplest solution was to dump the shard in the swamp somewhere or throw it out into the sea. But she didn't know if that would help. Besides, the thought of giving up the shard seemed wrong. There was magic in the shard. She could feel the thrum of it against her chest, where it lay warm and soothing in her hidden pocket. No, she would not throw it away just yet. After all, if those bladelings had come from some other plane to find the shard, then it must be valuable. Daeghun's plan to consult a mage seemed a good one. Once she returned to Neverwinter, she could speak to Ophala Cheldarstorn. Ophala was a sorceress and she knew everyone. She'd know how to dispel any tracking spell. She'd know how to make it safe to keep.
The problem was, if she returned to Neverwinter with her mission unfinished, there would be trouble. She didn't think the tale of the shard and the attack on West Harbor would be enough to excuse her failure. In addition, she wasn't sure it would be wise to bring the shard to the attention of the Thieves Guild, at least until she knew its value. She trusted Janit—to a point. She just wasn't sure where that point lay. There were many in the guild she didn't trust at all.
Carona had no wish to sleep alone and unguarded out in the wild, and so she pushed on far into the evening, with the bright moonlight to guide her steps. At last she reached the Weeping Willow Inn. Tired as she was, she lingered in the common room to gossip with the innkeeper. He brought her a bowl of thick soup and a mug of ale. The travelers had gone to bed already, leaving only local people at the bar. Their concerns were not of bandits but of lizardfolk, who had been seen in unprecedented numbers and who were suspected of stealing chickens, sheep and even an ox. That was interesting but unhelpful so Carona headed off to bed.
At first she thought she dreamed of screams; it took a moment to realize they were real. Oh, gods, not again, Carona thought as she rolled out of her cot. She had taken the precaution of sleeping in her clothes with the shard in her pocket. There had been no private rooms available and she had had to bunk in the third story loft with several other travelers. They had all been asleep when she had come up to bed so she didn't know their names or faces. A dwarf turned on his side and looked at her as she slid into her jerkin.
"What's the trouble, lass?" he asked belligerently, his eyes only half open. Moonlight streamed through the window behind him.
"I have no idea." She hoped it was true, but she drew her dagger. She didn't stay to listen to his grunted response. She crept down the narrow stairs into a scene of chaos. Several bladelings were directing a large group of the same strange gray dwarves she had seen in West Harbor. One fellow ran into the hall in his nightshirt and fell to a dwarf's cudgel. Two more dwarves broke down a door. A woman screamed. At the end of the hall, she saw a bladeling upend a pack and spill its contents onto the bed. Carona slipped back up the stairs.
"The inn is under attack," she whispered to the dwarf. The other travelers were awake as well. She noticed with approval that he had already put on his boots and chain shirt and had a deadly looking axe in his hand.
"Bandits? Let's get them!" the dwarf said with a grin.
"There are at least a dozen of them, bladelings and dwarves," she cautioned.
"Dwarves, eh? Hah! I could use a good fight to get the blood pumping." And before she could say another word, he pushed past her and stomped down the stairs. She looked at the other travelers. They cowered on their cots, panic on their faces. They would be useless. Her lip curled but she made no comment.
As she came down the stairs, she heard the dwarf bellow. She found him surrounded by four of the gray dwarves, who no longer seemed so intimidating. Her fellow traveler was larger, broader and his good cheer was more menacing than their snarls and curses. Carona let fly with her throwing knives, the dwarf's axe swung, and the gray dwarves fell. More came with their bladeling masters behind them.
"The Kalach-Cha!" one of the bladelings shouted. "Find it!"
Carona jabbed her knife into the back of one of the gray dwarves facing the axe fighter. When he turned, she slashed at his throat. He dropped his club and staggered away. She made a quick cut at one of the other dwarves and then one of the bladelings was upon her. He handled a sword like he knew how to use it, taking full advantage of his superior reach. His eyes widened.
"Kalach-Cha," he hissed.
He knows I have the shard. He can sense it.
The bladeling pressed her hard in a sudden fury and she had no choice but to fall back. Barefoot, she stepped in a puddle of warm blood but she managed not to slip.
"Hold on, lass," her dwarven ally yelled. He closed in on the bladeling. A swing of his axe chopped hard into the bladeling's unarmored bicep. Blood flew but that didn't divert him from his pursuit of Carona. She jumped back from his next thrust but the bladeling's sword slashed across the front of her jerkin. Then the dwarf's axe chopped his leg out from under him and the bladeling fell. Another stroke of the axe crunched into his skull.
"Are you all right there?" the dwarf asked.
"Yes," Carona said. Her leather had held.
"Come on, then," he bellowed. "We've got them on the run."
If they were on the run, it wasn't away. More of the dwarves pounded up the stairs from the common room and there was another bladeling as well. The dwarf held them at the top of the stairs, where they could only approach a couple at a time. Carona stood slightly behind him, ready to step in if needed but the dwarf made quick work of the remaining attackers. He was one of the fiercest fighters she had ever seen and he hummed a martial tune as he fought.
Strangely, none of the attackers made any attempt to escape. They continued the fight until they were all dead, as if they were under a geas or madness of some sort. At last none of them remained either within the inn or in the yard.
"Well now," the dwarf said after they checked the barn. "That was a good fight." He held out his hand. Carona grimaced a bit at his crushing grip. "You fight right bravely for a slip of a lass, if you don't mind my saying so."
"Thanks," she said, biting back a grin. "I'm Carona. It's good you were here. I didn't see any of those others so much as pick up a weapon to defend themselves."
"Eh, well, that just leaves more fun for us. The name's Khelgar," he added. "Of the Clan Ironfist. You might have heard of us."
"I don't know many dwarves," she said. Khelgar grunted.
"What say we go inside and see if the innkeep will stand us a round? Seems like maybe he owes us a drink or three for clearing out this rabble for him."
The innkeeper was grateful indeed and they soon found themselves with mugs of the inn's best ale.
"Tell me, lass, what was the meaning of the word that spiky creature called you upstairs? Kalach-Cha?"
"I never heard it before. Thought it might be Dwarven."
"Well it ain't. Not even in the tongue of those filthy duergar we killed."
"Duergar? Is that what those dwarves were? They're from the Underdark, right? Does that mean they will only attack at night?" Khelgar shrugged. "But the bladelings are from another plane, or that's what Brother Merring told me."
"You've seen these creatures and fought them before?"
Carona found herself describing something of the attack on her village. Khelgar drummed his fingers lightly on the table as she talked, still in the flush of battle.
"They're looking for something," he said. "And you have it with you. Don't ye, lass?" He gave her a challenging look.
"Yes," she said in a low voice. She looked around. The common room was empty but for them. The innkeeper had gone upstairs to check on the other guests and the damage to his rooms. He hadn't even left a guard on the front door. She guessed he figured she and Khelgar would continue to handle everything.
She wasn't sure what impulse rode her but she pulled the bundle out of her pocket and peeled back the leather to show him the shard. He picked it up curiously and rubbed it between his thick stubby fingers.
"So this is a Kalach-Cha? Part of a broken blade, I'm guessing," he said. "Looks like silver but I'm thinking you'll find it's heavier than pure silver. Some sort of alloy, I fancy."
"A broken blade," she mused. "Well, that makes a sort of sense if this is left over from the battle of West Harbor. Do demons fight with blades?"
"I suppose some of them do. Why would anyone want a bit of a broken blade, lass? The metal's rare and fine but it's not like there's enough here to make anything useful."
"I don't know." She wrapped the shard and put it back in her pocket. "You didn't feel anything when you picked it up?" The dwarf gave her a puzzled look.
"What do ye mean?"
"Never mind." If he had felt it, he would have known. And Daeghun hadn't seemed to feel the magic either. So whatever it was, it was something she could sense—and so could the bladelings that sought it, as well as the lizardling shaman in the ruins. And that was strange, uncomfortably strange. Daeghun's plan to take the shard to a mage was sounding better and better.
Carona yawned. This was the second night of interrupted sleep and she was really feeling it now that the excitement of the battle was over. Khelgar finished his mug and set it down with a thump.
"Best be off to bed then," he said. "If any more of those pesky creatures wake me up, may the gods help them." He picked up his axe and gave it a little shake. "I won't be treating them so gently next time."
Carona laughed and followed him up the stairs. The innkeeper was still mopping up blood and other fluids.
She'd given up the hope of making an early start and as it happened, she slept past midday. She'd only been in the common room a few moments before she heard the dwarf stump down the stairs, yelling for his breakfast. They ate together, and she learned he, too, was heading for Neverwinter. He had plans to study at a Tyrran monastery there. Carona cocked her head.
"Do many dwarves follow Tyr?" she asked. It seemed surprising but she didn't know much about dwarves.
"Nay, lass, I'm not going there for the prayers. Clangeddin Silverbeard is the god for me. It's the fighting I care about." Then he launched into a tale of being thrown through a window by a group of monks, whose prowess had impressed him so greatly that he sought to learn their secrets for himself. She had no idea if the monks would teach one not of their faith but Khelgar seemed convinced that they would, and who was she to argue with his dream?
"What say we travel together then?" he asked. "I'd enjoy the company and it seems to me that you'll be needing someone by your side if more of those foul duergar come around."
"I'd like that," she said with a smile but her brain worked furiously. She still had the bandits to deal with. If she was to try to infiltrate their ranks, Khelgar would be a liability. But if the bladelings continued to hound her she was going to have to give up that plan. Perhaps there was another way she could get the information she needed. Or perhaps she would have to return to Neverwinter without it and deal with whatever trouble failure brought her.
Carona hated indecision. Still, nothing could be decided here and now. Perhaps in Fort Locke she would find what she needed.