Chapter 7…Another Harborman on the Road

After all the excitement in Fort Locke, it was a relief to get back on the road again. Although Khelgar hadn't objected to the attention, both Neeshka and Carona would have preferred anonymity. Neeshka grumbled that the reward for freeing the prisoners didn't match the risks they took but she was pleased enough when she added up the value of the bandits' treasure. They planned to sell the jewelry in Neverwinter to avoid the potential embarrassment of having any of it recognized.

There had been no sign of bladelings during the night they spent at the fort. Whether they had given up or were biding their time, Carona had no idea, but bladelings were certainly on her mind as the shadows lengthened throughout the afternoon. As they looked for a sheltered spot to camp, Carona heard a familiar voice shout in anger. Next to a familiar wagon pulled by equally familiar oxen, Galen stood off against his own guards.

"They wanted me to double their pay. When I refused, they said they'd kill me and rob me and blame it on the bandits," Galen said. He looked down upon Yarek's and Kalas's corpses. His cheeks were pale with shock. Once outnumbered, Carona suspected the guards would have backed down if Khelgar had given them half a chance. She was just as glad he hadn't. "I paid them well. I don't understand it."

"Faithless curs," Khelgar growled. When he wiped his axe blade on Yarek's pants, Galen looked away.

"Just greedy," Carona said. She suspected Galen had shown too much pleasure in the success of his trading. She was surprised he hadn't known better but maybe he'd never worked with sell-swords before.

"Once again, I find myself in your debt," the merchant said to Carona. "Er, perhaps you will introduce me to your friends?" He looked askance at the tiefling in particular.

Carona made the introductions and then stood frowning over the bodies. They were unlikely to find a better camping spot before dark, especially with the wagon to move, but the bodies would draw scavengers. Burying them was going to be a lot of work. The weather had remained dry and the ground was brick-hard. In the end, she and Khelgar used one of the oxen to drag the bodies away from camp. Before she dumped them in the brush, she checked their pockets. Khelgar scowled. He had shown the same squeamishness when it came to splitting the loot from the bandit's camp and he had finally refused a share, an attitude Carona and Neeshka both found almost incomprehensible. He said it was because he hadn't shared in the fighting but she suspected his objections ran deeper than that.

"They can't use coin where they're going," she said. "We can."

"Aye, lass, yet robbing their bodies seems disrespectful somehow."

"Donate your share to Tyr's temple when we get to Neverwinter. That will impress the monks."

"That's not the point."

"But Khelgar, they planned to do the same to Galen."

"So we should sink to their level?" She gave him a puzzled look. This seemed to bother him more than the fact that the men were dead by their hands. "All right, all right, I will say no more." He did mutter a bit to the ox as he led it back but Carona ignored him.

By the time they returned to camp, Galen was chatting away with Neeshka like they were old friends. Carona wished she shared his gift for making acquaintances. He had already lit the cook fire and had something savory simmering in a pot. Carona was nervous about the possibility of a bladeling attack but decided to say nothing to Galen. As it happened, he brought up the subject himself. He had stayed in the Weeping Willow Inn the night after the attack on the inn.

"Heard the two of you wiped out the lot of them," he said. He gave Khelgar a respectful nod. "The innkeeper there is an old friend of mine. You should have heard him sing your praises."

Neeshka's eyes got wider and wider. "You mean to say these duergar and bladelings are attacking settlements all over the Mere? Why? I don't understand."

"As I hear it, they're looking for something," Galen said.

"What?" Neeshka asked. "What could possibly bring them to the swamps? There's not much there but mud and stink. No offense," she said, cutting her eyes towards Carona.

"I'm thinking we could answer that question, aye?" Khelgar said. He nudged her hard enough to shift her on her log seat. Carona made a noncommittal grunt but both Neeshka and Galen eyed her with curiosity. She tried to keep her expression pleasant but she was annoyed at Khelgar's hints about the shard to Neeshka, whose loyalties were unknown, and Galen, the biggest gossip along the Sword Coast.

Galen had made tea, an herbal concoction he claimed was healthful. They all drank a mug while they waited for the supper to be ready. While Khelgar fried up some pan bread to go with the stew, Galen drew Carona apart from the others.

"I'm beginning to think you're a gift from Tymora." He patted her arm. "I was wondering, my dear, if I could prevail upon you and your friends to join me in my travels. I believe we are all heading back to Neverwinter and with my guards, ahem, departed—" He looked at her anxiously and added, "I will pay you and your friends for your aid, of course."

Carona had anticipated and dreaded this question. She wasn't sure of the right answer. The wagon would slow them down, confine them to the more passable roads and lanes, and mark them as potential prey. Yet she had to admit to herself that she couldn't feel quite right about abandoning Galen. She wasn't sure how she had ended up traveling in such an odd group, yet both Khelgar and Neeshka clearly assumed that they would remain together. This wasn't what Daeghun had in mind when he gave her the shard, she was sure.

But like Galen, she was beginning to suspect that Tymora had her hand in this, for good or for ill.

A couple of days later, she was certain. There had been very little traffic on the coast road, mostly woodcutters and farmers. Khelgar often rode in the cart to keep Galen company. Learning of Khelgar's interest in becoming a monk, the merchant shared some fascinating tidbits of gossip about the hierarchy of the church of Tyr, including some dirt from Judge Oleff's past that had them roaring with laughter. Carona had no idea that the terribly dignified justiciar had such a history with Ophala. She'd have to probe Ophala for details when she got back to the Moonstone Mask.

Neeshka, who was too restless to sit still for long, even for a tale, liked to scout ahead. She came back, anxious with news.

"There's a group of soldiers ahead," she said. "Five of them, wearing chain shirts." After her previous experience, Carona didn't blame her for her nervousness.

"But that's good," Galen said, a bit surprised at her expression.

"Unless they decide we're bandits," she muttered.

Carona motioned for her to take cover in the scrub by the road. Even an honest patrol might view a tiefling with suspicion. Carona hopped down from the wagon seat and walked ahead of the oxen. She patted her sides to make sure that her dagger and throwing knives were in position. She heard a grunt as Khelgar jumped down as well.

"Ye might be a bit over-cautious there, lass," he said but she noticed him adjusting the hang of his axe in his belt.

"Probably," she agreed. They walked on in silence until they rounded the curve in the road and she saw the soldiers. They weren't wearing Greycloak uniforms like the soldiers from Fort Locke. There were five of them. The tall stocky one in front had a badge or brooch on his shoulder that marked him as their leader. The soldiers picked up their pace when they saw the wagon approaching them and the leader, chain shirt jangling, broke into something close to a trot.

"Oh, gods no," Carona said under her breath and she stepped out of the road to let them by. Behind her, Galen stood up on the wagon bed and then let out a joyous yell.

"Cormick!"

As she watched the two men embrace, Carona realized that Galen and the Marshal of the Watch in Neverwinter shared a relationship somewhat warmer than boardinghouse neighbors. This was clearly not news to any of his men, who grinned when the two hugged and thumped each other on the back.

"Cormick, what brings you here? I almost fell off the wagon seat when I saw you there."

"You, of course. And praise Helm that I find you well. The news from Fort Locke, frankly, has been more than alarming. I finally convinced the good captain to let me take some men to see for myself just how the land lies."

"For once, the tales do not exaggerate," Galen said.

"But Galen, where are your guards?" Cormick asked. He gave Khelgar a puzzled look and then his eyes fell upon Carona. For a moment he stared as if he did not recognize her. The joyous relief drained from his face, to be replaced by wary surprise. Cormick seemed to have changed little during the five years since he'd left West Harbor. Carona wore her hair cropped short now but other than that, she fancied she had not changed much herself.

"I owe my safety to your fellow Harborman several times over," Galen said. He moved away from Cormick and put his hand lightly on Carona's shoulder. "Here's Daeghun's daughter all grown up now, a bane of bandits, bladelings, and turncoat guards. Surprising, eh?"

"Very surprising," Cormick said drily.

Carona broke eye contact. Cormick fit most common conceptions of Harbormen—tall, slow of speech, and as wide as a barn door. He had a craggy face and his nose had been broken often enough to have assumed a certain bulbous shapelessness. He was no beauty, Cormick, but his bovine features masked a sharp, tenacious mind. He had risen through the ranks of Neverwinter's City Watch with uncanny swiftness for a newcomer and particularly for one unconnected to any of the great families.

This was no surprise to anyone in West Harbor. In a village where toughness and competence were expected, he had always stood out. Every task he put his mind to came easily to him. People were drawn to him despite his looks and blunt speech. Years ago she had hero-worshipped Cormick like the other kids of West Harbor. He had been her very image of what a knight should be—strong and true and ferociously brave.

Since then, she had learned the disillusive truth: knights didn't spring like weeds from poor Mere villages. Knights were carefully cultivated within wealthy families who could afford expensive armor, weapons, and horses; families who could hire weapons masters for their children and who had the pull to arrange for their sponsorship into the nobility. Those without such cushy connections could consider themselves lucky if they were taken into the Watch like Cormick—or into the Greycloaks like Lorne Starling. Cormick was no knight.

"Fierce little Carona here has kept me company all the way to West Harbor and thank Waukeen for that," Galen said, noting the tense unsmiling reunion of the two Harbormen with growing concern. Carona wasn't surprised that Cormick had never filled him in on any of the personal history between the two of them and Lorne. The tale did none of them any credit. "I have much to tell you."

"So I gather," Cormick said. "And I want to hear it all, but first, let me tell you that if you're headed to Highcliff, you need to reconsider. I arrived on the last ship in or out of the bay. The Harbormaster has lit the signal fires to warn off all incoming ships. Lizardfolk are sabotaging everything that floats."

"Lizardfolk!" Galen exclaimed.

"Aye. It is more than passing strange to find them this far from the Mere, and in such numbers. And there's more. None of the merchants who have chosen to travel north along the coast road have arrived in Neverwinter. They've all gone missing, Galen. I think you should head back to Fort Locke and wait things out. I know Commander Tann would be happy to put you up for as long as you like and really, the roads just aren't safe now."

"Obviously you haven't heard the news from Fort Locke," Galen said. "Tann is missing along with several Greycloak patrols. The fort is crowded with travelers and local folk escaping bandit attacks. Although maybe things will improve now that Carona's killed their leader."

"Has she now?" Cormick asked. "I'd like to hear how that happened." His eyes flicked in her direction.

Carona imagined she saw certain calculations run through his mind. She had done her best to avoid notice from the City Watch and particularly from their sharp-eyed marshal. Since he mainly worked the trouble-filled Docks, she avoided that area. Like it or not, the separation between the Thieves Guild and the City Watch was not as great as one might think. Experienced Watchmen knew the thieves that worked their district, and not all of them needed evidence of a crime as an excuse to hound them.

While Galen and Cormick talked, Carona motioned for Khelgar to come closer.

"In light of this news, do you have any interest in heading back to Fort Locke?" she asked in a low voice. If Cormick was taking Galen to Fort Locke, she wanted to go in the opposite direction. She guessed Neeshka would feel the same.

"None," was his prompt reply. "I have no fear of lizardfolk. They can't block the harbor forever. Besides, I know a couple of taverns where we can wait them out."