Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

Author's note: Apologies for the delay, I don't really have an excuse barring that this chapter was just not playing and in the end I just had to admit defeat and leave it for a while. Thanks to everyone who review and messaged (even if it was just to nag ;-), it was all appreciated.

Best laid plans

The day was another bright one, the night's rains making for a clear sky, though the air still held a certain sharpness. Anomen hardly noticed it though, the man paying no mind to either the weather or the surrounding bustle as he walked with the others once more over the bridge, but it was not thoughts of this next meeting with Anarg that held his attention.

Nor was he distracted by concerns that there were dark creatures such as vampires ranging freely about the city. Though it had been a disturbing discovery, admittedly, the creatures clearly secure enough in their powers that they were not only unconcerned about being caught, but to the point where they had set up their own guild in rival to one of Athkatla's most powerful groups.

The shrill slam of a window being closed somewhere above him and Anomen glanced up to notice they were just passing the Five Flagons, some of the actors taking a break and enjoying a drink just outside the doors and he felt a twinge as he was reminded once more of the one person he had been trying to forget all morning.

Anomen sighed, averting his gaze until they were well past the place. He had been so angry with Fritha before, the way she had blithely dismissed their concerns, had even tried to justify her recklessness. But, angry as he had been, he had been even more annoyed at himself, for he had wanted to offer to escort the girls the night before but had felt too embarrassed to suggest it. And now the pair were off again, putting themselves into the path of yet more danger by attempting to break-in to the estate of one of the most powerful noble families in the city!

Fritha had drawn him aside before she and Nalia had left, the girl informing him that he would now be the voice of the group in her absence and he had prepared himself for the predictable lecture on forgiveness and mercy, only it had not come.

'I understand it is difficult for you, pretending to be a friend to those you feel are traitors, but it is necessary if we are to ascertain their true guilt. And if anything should go wrong, then… then please, Anomen, just do what you think is right, not what anyone else might expect of you. I- I trust you.'

And for a moment Anomen saw them as they had been, the girls stood before the tavern door as they made to leave, both looking small and troubled, and though he knew he should be outraged at their disregard for the law, the feeling was overwhelmed by the sheer dread he felt as he thought of what they were about to undertake.

And the others seemed little happier as they stepped from the bridge and moved off the main street into the muddle of old warehouses. Jaheira was just ahead of him with Minsc, the druid wearing the same frown she had worn since breakfast, while next to her the ranger looked unusually unsettled, the huge man speaking quietly to his hamster and occasionally shaking his great bald head. And behind him, Anomen considered, glancing back to where Aerie and Haer'Dalis were walking, the girl twisting her sleeves anxiously as she chattered quietly to the man at her side, Haer'Dalis calm, but much more solemn than the world normally found him, though whether he was just making the pretence for the group's sake or truly concerned, the squire could not tell.

Anomen shook his head, attempting to push these worries from his mind as they rounded the corner and their destination swung into view, a pair of warriors on guard at the doors of the derelict storehouse that housed their group and it seemed the former knights were taking no chances since Rindus's ambush.

The men hailed them politely as they approached though, one leaving his post to lead them inside, once more into to the cool gloom of the warehouse. Reynald was seated with a few of the others about a huge old table, the group studying what looked to be maps of Athkatla by the light of a single lamp, though they glanced up at their arrival, the paladin smiling broadly as he stood to greet them.

'Anomen, and your companions as well, welcome. You return to us and only a day later; dare I ask as to the progress you have made in the task we asked of you?'

'I am happy to say it has been completed,' Anomen answered politely, his tone carrying none of the warmth or pride his words implied.

'You have the cup?' Reynald exclaimed, his worn face suddenly alight with hope, Anomen nodding once to draw it from his bag and just managing to check his hesitation as he moved to hand it to the man. Reynald beamed, staring with wonder at the chalice he now held, before passing it reverently to the pale young man opposite. 'Here, Gadwulf, place it with the rest of Anarg's belongings. Oh, my friends,' the paladin continued, almost laughing in his exuberance as he turned back to them, 'I can see this alliance was clearly a wise one.'

About them, men were smiling and nodding, though others, Anomen noticed, looked less convinced, the still seated Alve watching them with a contemplative look, his narrowed eyes dark with distrust.

'You came by that very easily. As Reynald said, we only asked you for it yesterday…'

'The Order expect and is prepared for a great assault of arms,' came Jaheira with a readiness well tempered with nonchalance; it would not do to seem too rehearsed in their reasons. 'We were able to use this to our advantage, gaining access to the cup by more… subtle methods.'

No one seemed to require any plainer explanation than this, the group about them casting each other knowing looks and Reynald smiled grimly.

'Indeed. Well, please be seated, friends. You seem always to have the misfortune to miss our leader, and Anarg will surely wish to thank you in person. He just an hour ago left with some others of our group, but I expect them back soon enough. Please stay and take ale with us -Alve.'And Reynald stepped aside politely offering his seat to Aerie, the men about him rising to follow suit as Alve filled cups from a rough earthenware pitcher.

'Here,' Reynald beamed, passing a cup to Anomen, his smile fading as he glanced about their group. 'But your numbers are short; where is the young Lady Fritha? And the Lady Nalia is absent as well?'

'Fritha?' Anomen swallowed, ready with the lie the girl had given him before she'd left, though the words seemed to stick in his throat. Traitors or not, he hated dealing in all these falsehoods, Reynald's trust only making it worse, and the last two people he wished to be reminded of just then were Fritha and Nalia, dread creeping over him anew as he thought of the pair. Where were they now? Had they already been caught? Anomen swallowed again, forcing himself to finish.

'It was by Lady Fritha's… skills that we retrieved the cup last night, but she was injured in the process. The Lady Nalia stayed back at the inn also in order to tend her.'

Reynald nodded gravely, something about his eyes darkening.

'That is twice now your group has spilt blood for us; let us toast to her prompt recovery.'

Anomen raised his cup with the others, Fritha's excuse readily accepted by all, and he only hoped her tale of robbery and ruin remained fiction.

xxx

Nalia stood leaning casually against a bronze-leaved sycamore on the tree-lined avenue, every now and then taking a surreptitious glance about before throwing another large cube of meat over the high wall before her and into the kennels she knew were on the other side.

She glanced down to the brown paper wrappings she was holding open in one hand, the dark red meat diced and shining, wet with leftover blood and Jaheira's sleeping draft. It had been an hour or so since they'd left the Coronet, activities of this nature as much about preparation as perpetration though the wait was doing nothing for her nerves, the time only allowing her misgivings for this venture to grow.

Nalia shook herself, angry at these worries. If there was another way they would have taken it, but there was not and she would have to steel herself if she was to see her keep freed from Isea's tyranny. Besides, Fritha would be returning soon from her scouting at the front gates over on the east of the estate and there was no need for her to see this hesitancy.

Nalia pulled a face and tossed the last of the meat over the wall as though that were an end to it, glad she was no longer in her robes as she screwed up the paper wrappings and wiped her hands carelessly on her rough trousers. She and Fritha had stopped briefly at the Five Flagons in order for her to change her clothes. Clambering about of any sort was always easier in breeches and she had an outfit she used on occasions like this, a dark green tunic with brown trousers and hood of the labouring classes, her short auburn hair tied back for the first time since she had joined Fritha's company.

Speaking of which, she considered as the girl herself appeared at the end of the street, strolling towards her looking much the same as she usually did save for the addition of a pale violet woollen scarf that was wound about her neck, ready to be pulled up to conceal her face when the time came.

'Well, the gods must surely be with us on this,' she began by way of greeting, 'because I just watched Isea leave at a furious pace, and taking two of his guards with him as an escort.'

'Isea's left? Do you imagine he has finally heard about Barg?'

Fritha shrugged evenly, glancing to the wall behind them.

'Could be. How are the dogs?'

'Well, I've not heard any barking for a while…' Nalia trailed off, nothing more solid to offer the girl and Fritha shrugged again.

'Come on, we'll just have to risk it.'

And together they followed the wall around the corner back towards the north of the estate. Isea's Athkatla residence was a large square of grounds that was bordered on the south side by the river and enclosed on the other three by high sandstone walls, the large villa set safely within. The stables in the north-western corner of the back wall and were the safest place to enter the compound, not too close to be seen from the river with the general jumble of the yard and the noise of the horses providing ample cover and the girls moved into position before the smooth pale wall.

'Ready?' asked Fritha, carefully arranging her scarf to cover both face and hair. Nalia pulled up her own hood and nodded once.

'Ready.'

Fritha watched as the girl stepped forward and with once last cursory glance about the empty street, ran at the wall before them, leaping up at the last moment to catch the top and pull herself gracefully over to disappear from sight.

Fritha swallowed, waiting for any signs of Nalia's discovery before following suit, the grand sandstone villa and its lush gardens swinging into view before she too dropped inside, her fingers stinging, grazed in her haste clear the wall. Nalia was crouched behind a mounting block, Fritha landing lightly next to her and they watched a stable boy carry a large bucket of grain from the barn into the stall opposite before they broke their cover.

The pair raced from the courtyard, skirting along the back wall and past the kennels where half a dozen hunting dogs were sleeping in the autumn sunshine, Nalia taking a moment to close and secure the gate before they moved on. Nalia knew the best way to get into the house proper would via the roof of the single storey kitchens that extended from the back of the villa. The smell of cooking was growing stronger on the air as they drew closer, as was the sound of voices, and Fritha felt her stomach groan as the pair slipped behind an obliging clump of azaleas.

It was a nice day once out of the sharp breeze and shelter the walls of the estate provided seemed to have tempted the servants into eating their noon meal outside, a long wooden table and benches already set beneath the trees at the kitchen door and surrounded by eight guards and a scattering of servants. Fritha turned to Nalia with a meaningful shrug. Well at least all the guards were accounted for now.

Nalia frowned slightly but gestured for her to follow all the same, and they carried on, quickly moving between bushes and trees in the verdant grounds and finally through the kitchen gardens, pair concealed behind the tall frames of green beans as they ran. They were well past the table, and kitchens too, by now and almost at the southern end of the estate when they doubled round, approaching the low building from the opposite side, the sounds of the staff at lunch worryingly loud as they clambered up onto the kitchen roof.

From there it was only a short climb onto the adjacent roof, the warm terracotta tiles of the covered walkway that surrounded the ground floor of the villa and allowed for enjoyment of the gardens even when the weather was less than favourable. They were on the house proper now, the roof leading neatly up to the outer wall of the first floor and what Nalia had been heading for all this time, the roof providing a convenient access to a line of green shuttered windows.

Nalia moved up to the wall, Fritha hanging back slightly as the girl reached up, a pick poised to slip between the shutters and lift the catch inside, when there was a rustle within and suddenly they were swinging open of their own accord. Nalia flattened herself to the wall beneath the sill and, with little other cover to avail herself of, Fritha flung herself flat to the tiles, the undulating surface catching her painfully across the ribs. The elderly servant at the window noticed neither of them though, humming blithely as she moved along the hall the next pair, and it was not until all four sets of shutters were open and the stout old woman had bustled off that Fritha dared to move again. Carefully, she peeled herself from the tiles and crept up to Nalia, the girl glancing around the frame before disappearing through the open window and Fritha followed her into the cool gloom of the hallway.

'Here, this way,' Nalia whispered, beckoning her along the hall and they rounded the corner to find themselves in another much shorter corridor, a large polished oak door set at the end. A moment to pick the lock and they were inside and Fritha was gazing about a small if opulent room, all dark wooden furniture and rich tapestries.

Nalia had already moved to begin searching the huge polished desk and Fritha joined her, rifling quickly through the letters and ledgers she found, though there was nothing incriminating that she could see.

'It's no good, all this looks fine to me. What are you doing?' she asked as Nalia ignored the papers, instead sweeping pale fingers lightly under draws and between shelves until-

Fritha felt a smile pulling at her mouth as, with the slightest click, a narrow drawer no thicker than her hand sprang open lengthwise from the intricate beading between two small cabinets

'How did you know…' she breathed and Nalia smiled at her wonder.

'Desks with such compartments are not uncommon amongst us secret-hording nobles. My father had one similar; he used to keep my mother's old love letters in there from when they were courting. Here,' Nalia continued, passing a ledger to her as she herself began to sort through a bound sheaf of official-looking documents. Fritha opened the slim blue book, letting her eyes run down the double-columned pages, just two rows of neatly entered numbers and giving the appearance of any well kept accounts' ledger, except…

'Here, look at his,' Fritha began, showing a page to the girl next to her, 'Four diamonds (un-cut), six hundred gold pieces. Seven bloodstones (polished), two hundred and sixty gold pieces. Five grade-one pearls,only one hundred and ninety gold pieces! These are well below the market values. Nalia,' she breathed excitedly, 'I think Isea is accounting these gems at prices below what he no doubt paid for them to avoid paying the import tax. He's smuggling! Nalia, we've got him! What have you found?'

Nalia shrugged, sorting through the papers in her hands.

'A bill for some clothes and equipment, some letters of transit, oh-' she paused, drawing a paper out to study it more closely. 'A running schedule from a recent slave auction in Calimport…' She trailed off her face frozen and Fritha was almost afraid to ask.

'What is it?'

'Look!' she ordered, thrusting the papers at her, 'Look at the names! Carric of Moonshea for sale in the auction of the seventeenth. And here, on the papers of transit. Carric Sheal, moved from Calimshan to Amn to serve as a stablehand at- at de'Arnise Keep! And he is not the only one,' Nalia cried, the girl literally trembling with anger, 'Marim Helioc, Parid Hessen. Isea is- he- he's actually using the keep to traffic slaves!'

Fritha nodded once; this was surely all the evidence they needed.

'Come on, we-'

She stopped, her heart in her throat as she heard the click of the door behind them, Fritha whirling to see the elderly housekeeper whom they had almost run into before come marching into the room, duster in hand and still humming merrily though she stopped abruptly as she saw them. Her eyes grew wide, the two sides watching each other in silence a moment before the woman was suddenly screaming shrilly, Fritha leaping forward to grab her arm and shut the door.

'Please be quiet! We're not going to hurt you!'

But the woman seemed not to have heard her, just stood, her hands held up as through to protect herself from the blows she expected to begin raining down on her at any moment and screaming hysterically all the while. Before she knew it, Fritha had drawn her sword and pushed the woman back onto the sofa behind her, much more roughly than she'd intended in her panic.

'Shut up! Shut up now or I'll silence you for good!'

This had the desired effect and the woman's cries ebbed to a quiet sobbing. Fritha quickly sheathed her sword, taking the key still clutched in the woman's hand as she turned back to Nalia.

'Got everything?'

The girl nodded, patting her bag and Fritha tried to quell the feelings of guilt as she turned back to the still crying housekeeper.

'Please calm down, madam, we're not here to hurt you or anyone else.'

But the old woman did not even lift her face from her hands and Fritha gave up, crossing to Nalia and the pair left, locking the door behind them.

Outside the hall was still empty though that seemed about to change, the sound of the servants drifting along the corridor.

'Here, did you hear screaming?'

'Aye, old Ethellen. It sounded like it was from the east wing.'

Footsteps were approaching and Fritha shot Nalia an alarmed glance, the girl flying to the nearest window and soon they were on the walkway roof once more. Nalia did not head south towards the kitchens though, sliding carefully down to the edge of the roof and lowering herself off to drop carefully down to the ground, Fritha following in a much less graceful manner. As luck had it, the noise had drawn everyone from the table outside the kitchens, and they raced past without a care for cover, flying across the grounds to the kennels opposite, a clamour of barking from the now awakened dogs filling the air as they scrambled over the back wall.

Nalia dropped neatly into the avenue beyond, and pain screamed through her ankle as Fritha landed awkwardly beside her.

A-Are you hurt? Nalia panted, looking stricken by the idea their escape was to fail at this final hurdle.

'No, no, just a jolt, come on,' Fritha gasped, clumsily shaking off the pain as she straightened and, in but a moment, the estate streets behind them.

xxx

Anomen watched the group about him, all seated up and down that long battered table as they took a meal together. It seemed Anarg's business was keeping him longer than Reynald had anticipated and the paladin had insisted they stay for lunch, which had proved to be a good opportunity for strengthening their alliance with the men. Jaheira, Haer'Dalis and Aerie were working well, all talking blithely with their hosts and only Minsc remained in ill-humour, the ranger sat at the end of the table sending a worried frown to his plate and not speaking unless spoken to.

Anomen pulled his attention back to the man opposite, Reynald leaning over to kindly refill Aerie's cup, the girl dipping her face shyly as she thanked him and the squire stifled a sigh, fighting the urge to drop his head into his hands and block out the noise of them all for just a few meagre moments.

He could not believe Anarg or indeed Reynald for that matter had been cast from the Order in error. And yet this man before him, this man who radiated such goodness, now followed Anarg, a man accused of the most terrible of crimes… It just did not make sense! Anomen drew a deep breath, unable to shake the fear now festering in his heart that perhaps Anarg was not quite as black as the Order had been content to paint him.

'More bread, Anomen?' came a voice next to him and he turned to see the tow-headed Gadwulf offering up a trencher of the heavy rye bread. Anomen shook his head as he made to rise, suddenly desperate for just a few moments alone to gather his thoughts.

'I thank you, no, I-I feel a touch warm. Perhaps some fresh air would help. If you would excuse me.'

The two men were still on guard at the doors outside and Anomen moved a short distance from them, just around the corner where he felt safe to draw a deep tired breath and lean heavily back against the warehouse wall to watch the sky, a calming arc of blue above him.

What was he going to do? What would the Order expect him to do?

'Just do what you think it right…' came Fritha's voice again behind his eyes and he almost felt like screaming. How easy it was for her to say such things! She who never seemed to doubt her path for an instant. But then…

She did not doubt him either. Fritha had said as much before she'd left and somehow the thought was a heartening one. And difficult though the situation was, it could not be denied that the day was going well so far, even Alve and a few of the other more reserved men relaxing over the course of the meal. Anomen exhaled deeply and felt his worries subside a little.

Fritha would be back for their next meeting (the alternative something he was refusing to even contemplate), and together they could use the two days they'd remaining to find the truth in all this confusion and decide what was to be done.
Yes, it would all come right, he was sure of it.

'Anomen?' came a voice and the squire jumped, whirling to find Reynald at his side, the paladin clearly trying to hide his smile though the shine to his eyes gave him away. 'Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you. You are feeling better I hope?'

'Yes, thank you,' Anomen answered curtly, trying to quell his temper at the man's apparent amusement, though Reynald just smiled mildly at his tone.

Good, that is good,' he sighed, making no move to return to the others and instead leaning back against the wall next to him, gaze upon the sky as his had been and silence held them until-

'So, the Lady Fritha was injured… is she badly hurt?'

'Sorry?' Anomen questioned, confused a moment before he remembered himself, 'Oh, no, not badly.'

Reynald sent him a measured look.

'But enough to have worried you, yes?' He smiled, his tone sympathetic, almost paternal, 'It is written plain on your face, my friend.'

The smile faded, the man turning back to the sky, a certain solemnity softening his voice as he continued. 'You are fortunate to have been free to choose in this matter, not all are so blessed in this city where such things are viewed in terms of alliance rather than affection… That was my transgression. My family arranged my marriage for me when I was barely twenty years and I met my wife only a handful of times before we were wed. I respected the lady, but there was no affection there, not from either party-'

'Sir, I fear you misunderstand me. Fritha and I, well-'

Anomen paused. Misunderstanding or not, it was certainly a good way of explaining his behaviour and he had no other excuse ready to offer the man… 'I- ah, nothing has been spoken of yet. The lady… she is not aware…'

Reynald smiled, the paternal air about him once more as he clapped him heartily on the back.

'Fear not, I will not be the one to break your silence. You will find the moment to tell her, in time.'

Anomen forced a wan smile, feeling unpleasantly hot.

'I, well, thank you, sir… What happened with you and, well…'

Reynald sighed and nodded.

'Ah, yes. A couple of years ago I met a young lady whose family were patrons of my church and for her I developed a deep regard. After months of denying our feelings, I left my wife, well provided for I might add, and took up residence with my beloved, Celestine. My Lord-God Lathander knew of my previous unhappiness in marriage and forgave my transgression, but in the eyes of the Amnian courts I had broken the law and in doing so broken the vows I took when I joined the Order as a knight. I was cast out, disgraced, and my poor Celestine was no better off, her father publicly disowning her to all of Athkatla. She had always been close to her family, especially her mother and sisters, and in the end it became too much for her to bear. She left me and returned to them but a few months later, upon which her father sent her to live with relatives outside the city, away from her misdeeds.' Reynald sighed, his look broken, before he shook himself and his voice returned to its previous optimism. 'Still, that is all past now, and I must serve Athkatla in another way under Anarg.'

So there it was, the crime that had seen a good man cast from the Order's exalted ranks and though he did not disagree with the expulsion, Anomen could not help but feel for Reynald. The noble houses traditionally held much influence over their younger members, with the power to crush many young hopes under the banner of 'It's for the best.' Anomen was keenly aware of how his own father had ruined his chance of becoming a paladin and here was another man, the course of his life unrecognisably altered because of similar severities in his past.

That Reynald had told him something so personal showed he obviously trusted him deeply, and it took all Anomen's will to continue; his dislike of this charade growing more by the moment, but at the same time very aware that a better opportunity may not arise.

'Yes, Anarg… it is strange that I have heard so much of the man and have yet to meet him. Do you know why he was cast out?'

Reynald shook his head sternly.

'No, and such a question is not asked lightly around here. But his contrition for his crime, whatever it was, is genuine and I am not in a place to judge him. That he serves Athkatla and his god are all that anyone should need to know.'

Anomen paused a moment, hoping he imagined the slight stress on 'anyone' as he continued.

'Yes… and how does he serve Athkatla? I know that you and your group aims to reclaim this district back from the likes of Rindus and his ilk, but what does Anarg do when he is elsewhere? Is he recruiting others to your service? Looking for allies perhaps?'

'Sometimes, yes,' Reynald agreed, suddenly rather flustered, 'I do not know his every move; I am not his keeper. At what are you driving, Anomen?'

Anomen cast about for an answer but was saved the trouble.

'Sorry to interrupt, sir,' came a voice behind them, both men turning to see one of the door guards, 'but Anarg has arrived back.'

'Ah, good,' said Reynald, smiling again and seemingly glad of the interruption, 'You will at last get your deserved recognition, eh, Anomen?'

Anomen merely nodded, straightening to follow the men inside though the atmosphere could not have been more different to the warm camaraderie he had left. Everyone was on their feet, Jaheira and the others stood with the former knights, wary behind their apparent ease, everyone scattered in an uneven half circle about a tall dark-haired man, his handsome face split in a wide smile as he examined the ornate gold chalice in his hands.

'Anarg, welcome back,' greeted Reynald, stepping forward to exchange a brief salute. Anarg smiled, letting his eyes flick to the man he had left and Anomen felt himself tense under the cold gaze.

'So these are the allies you were speaking of, Reynald.'

The paladin beamed. 'Yes, indeed, this is-'

'Anomen Delryn,' finished Anarg curtly, barely sparing Reynald a glance as he took a step towards the squire. 'Yes, I had heard you were amongst our new friends. So you and your group infiltrated the Order's compound last night to retrieve my cup for me, eh?'

Anomen swallowed. Anarg's manner, his very tone, was contemplative and measured, all indicating that his question was leading somewhere but what other answer could he give? The squire nodded stiffly.

'That is so.'

Anarg's face broke into an unpleasant smile.

'You lie. I have ears still within the Order. Ryan Trawl gave them the cup, just as he gave them this task to infiltrate our group and murder us all!'

The room about them suddenly erupted, all angry murmuring and dark looks, some men even readying weapons, Reynald's face a horrified mask as he turned to him, the young man he had taken so blithely into his confidence and Anomen felt his stomach twist in guilt.

Anarg looked coldly smug as Reynald drew his sword and it took all his will for Anomen not to draw his own weapon, knowing it would only make things worse as he tried to calm the man.

'You misunderstand, Reynald! We were sent to infiltrate this group, yes, but that is all! There were rumours of wrongdoing, that you were using the name of the Order to slave and extort and we were sent to investigate, but no more than that. The Order would have never asked us to perform such cold-blooded murder and Fritha never would have agreed to do so.'

'More lies!' snarled Anarg, turning to the men about them, 'You know how the Order reviles us! They were sent here for our heads, no less.'

'No! That isn't true!' cried Aerie, backing closer to Minsc as she raised her staff, the ranger drawing his sword with a menacing look while Haer'Dalis spoke up.

'Consider it, my hounds. Had we wished an end to you, we could have left the thief, Rindus at his work. Or joined him in the ride. With such an advantage you would have surely all met with oblivion and we could have merely waited here for Anarg's return to pen the rest of you in the Deadbook.'

Reynald lowered his blade slightly, casting a glance to the warrior next to him.

'They are correct, Anarg. We would have fallen had they not fought with us. So,' he continued, his disappointment clear as he turned back to Anomen, 'you were sent here to ally yourselves with us? And what, pray tell, did you discover?'

Anomen glanced to Jaheira, the druid nodding imperceptibly.

'That you, Reynald and others here are as you say: good men working for the benefit of all. But others…' His eyes flicked instinctively to Anarg. There seemed little point in subtlety now. 'But of others I am less sure. Do you know where Anarg goes about the city? What he does? Reynald, he is not like you, he was cast from the Order for slavery!'

'What? What nonsense is this?' shouted Reynald, his face now flushed in his anger, 'He is a paladin! No just god would overlook such a crime!'

'Indeed, they would not,' agreed Jaheira evenly, stepping forward as she spoke and Anomen could not fail to notice how she was now in a far more favourable position should a fight break out. 'So we must ask, is Anarg still a paladin? The powers that prove such could be gained from many places, is that not so, Aerie?'

The elf nodded, nervous but resolute as she stepped forward as well.

'Well, y-yes, some types of magic, even dark gods could-'

'Enough!' came a shout, but it was not Reynald this time, the youth Alve pushing forward from his fellows to stand next to his mentor, 'I will hear no more of these lies. You are clearly just pawns sent by the Order to sow discord in our group. Reynald's word is enough for any man here, if he trusts Anarg then-'

'Calm yourself, Alve,' cut in Reynald, his voice quiet but firm, the paladin turning slowly back to their group. 'As for you, your words are slanderous, but I see the intent behind them is good, albeit misguided- go, we will not raise our blades against you.'

The muttering that had quietened as the paladin spoke suddenly filled the air again, Anarg's voice ringing clear above it all.

'Won't we now? You believe this nonsense about them only being here to investigate us, Reynald?'

The paladin nodded gravely.

'Yes, their reputations hold that they are honourable… you have heard of their works about the city, the destruction of the Beholder Cult, the killing of the Bridge Murderer. Some of them were even part of that group who averted the war. They are good people who believed they were acting for the best and made a mistake, just as many here once did.'

More muttering, some clearly dissenting though Anomen was relieved to see just as many men nodding evenly. Anarg was not among them.

'If we let them leave here, they will merely continue this campaign against us!'

'Anarg, my brother, if all they and the Order intend is to investigate us, then where is the harm? We have nothing to hide.'

But Anarg seemed to ignore this, saying only, 'So you would side with them against me, Reynald?'

Reynald watched him in silence for a long time, before slowly shaking his head, though it did not seem to be merely at his question but at Anarg himself.

'No, Anarg, I side with my own conscious, just as every man here should.'

Anarg snorted humourlessly, his eyes hard.

'I always knew you were a fool, Reynald. You still stand with them? Then you can fall with them too!'

In a moment, his sword was drawn and swinging out at Anomen, the squire freeing his own weapon just in time to parry it as chaos erupted around them, friend fighting friend as sides were instantly taken, his own companions in the thick of it.

Anomen parried the next blow and the next, feeling vulnerable without the cover of his shield, the heirloom still under the table where he had placed with his bag whilst they'd eaten.

Reynald was stood behind them, still yet to attack anyone and Anomen wondered briefly whether his respect for his leader had stayed his blade when suddenly the paladins voice cried out, sword held aloft just as he had during the fight with Rindus and for a moment light engulfed the room. Men's screams filled the air and Anarg recoiled, the man resolute and hated-filled even in his pain.

'You!' he spat, his sword held in a hanging guard as he backed away a step from the squire, 'Bane take you for this, Helmite!'

Anomen was anticipating Anarg to swing down at him and the bolt of dark energy was unexpected, the spell hitting him square in the chest before he'd even a chance to dodge, and suddenly he was sprawled on his back, Anarg above him, his sword high.

'And the Black Hand strikes you down!' he roared, his scream of rage swelling to one of agony as a blade suddenly spitted his stomach, the man keeling over to reveal Reynald, the paladin's face a stoic mask.

The sword withdrawn, Anarg fell like a stone next to him, the crash his armour made as it hit the stone tiles echoing about the warehouse only to fade to a deathly quiet, the silence broken only by the groans of the wounded. Aerie and Jaheira moved instantly to help them, all Haer'Dalis's efforts going into calming down the still enraged Minsc and Anomen heaved himself into a sitting position.

His chest was aching from the blow and he felt his muscles scream in protest as Alve reached down a hand to help him to his feet. Reynald was stood next to them, his sword now sheathed, the man gazing about the warehouse with a wistful look, as one considering what might have been housed there, before his gaze fell on the body beneath them.

'So, it seems you were correct all along, my friends, Anarg was a blackguard of the vilest sort and we were a party to his crimes. Gods know what evils I helped him in.' He shook his head, sighing deeply as he turned to face them. 'Well, justice must be served and you may take me back to the Order face it, I will not resist you.'

'No, Reynald!' cried Alve, but Reynald held up a hand, forestalling his protests.

'Quiet now, Alve, I led you all in this, as your commander it is my duty to take responsibility for it.'

'No, Reynald,' came another voice and Anomen was surprised to discover it had been his own.

'No?' the paladin repeated, 'No trial? No retribution? In aiding Anarg we have broken the law, however unwittingly.'

'Yes, you have, but-' Anomen paused. They had broken the law and as a representative of the Order, he was there to see that justice be done. But at the same time, it did not seem right that these men be punished any more for what had transpired there. Anomen swallowed. 'You have broken the law, yes, but the law is administered by men and men are biased. With the hatred of Anarg and the crimes he committed still high in people's minds, I do not think the courts here will believe you acted in ignorance. They would likely find you guilty for far worse than trusting a man who proved false. No,' he continued firmly, his decision made, 'I will inform the Knight Commander of what has transpired here… and that we allowed you to go free.'

For a moment, there was silence, Reynald and the other men looking no less than astounded while his own companions shared dark looks. But Anomen understood what he was risking and, it seemed, Reynald realised it too.

'Anomen, the Order-'

'Were tricked by Anarg long before you were.' Anomen smiled slightly, 'perhaps they will be inclined to be sympathetic.'

Though whether he was hoping for such mercy for himself or Reynald remained unspoken. But the paladin seemed to understand anyway, stepping forward to shake his hand and sweeping his other arm wide as though to include them all in the gesture.

'I thank you, my friends, for your compassion. Are you all well enough to travel?' he asked of the room, a rumble of grim assent answering him. 'Then come, brothers, collect your belongings; we leave the city now. We will seek atonement on the road.'

'But what of the fallen?' asked one of the men, glancing up from where he was crouched next to the body of a pale blond man and Anomen felt a stab as he recognised the youth, Gadwulf.

'You may leave them here,' assured Jaheira gravely, helping a man with a bandaged leg to stand, 'we will ensure a proper burial for all.'

A glance to Reynald who confirmed this with a nod, and the man rose to leave, his companions following suit, and Anomen watched as the group about them scattered, slowly moving off into the back of the warehouse to pack up their things. He turned back to the body beneath him, Anarg lying just as he had fallen, the look of surprise still on his face, the cup he had dropped as the fighting broke out almost hidden beneath him and covered in his blood. Anomen stooped for it, the chalice that had looked so stately and noble before, now somehow gaudy when held up to the grim carnage of their surroundings. At his shoulder came Jaheira's voice, understanding but firm.

'Come, Anomen, we should return to the inn.'

Anomen sighed as he straightened, wiping the chalice on his sleeve.

'You go. I must return the cup to the Order, I- I must report to Sir Ryan Trawl what happened here.'

She stared at him a moment and he could see her trying to form some words of consolation for him. But none seemed to come to her and in the end she just nodded and turned to usher the others out, leaving him stood alone in the gloom.

xxx

Fritha let half-closed eyes travel the same four plain tiled walls she had been watching for hours now, the small room lit only by the heavy bronze lantern that hung from the stone ceiling above them.

Still, it was better than a jail cell, she considered practically, her eyes dropping back to the huge stone bath she was sat in, Nalia opposite her, the girl sat as she was, the shimmering water just skimming the pale swell of her breasts, dark red hair damp and plastered to her speckled neck.

Fritha sent her a faint smile, which was returned, before she let her gaze travel over the rest of the room. A low bench, towels and their clothes folded neatly atop it, and a stone brazier that ran the length of the bath the only other things in there and Fritha watched the coals a moment, their glow reflecting vividly in the water.

They had left for the Council Buildings as soon as they'd escaped Isea's, bundling up the documents and enlisting one of the local children to pass them to a clerk who was to give them to Magistrate Ianulin, all anonymously. Even by that time, news of the break-in was sweeping across the city like a plague and it seemed like a good a idea to keep low for a while, moments later finding them in a private room in the district's local bathhouse; a pleasant if serviceable building that was actually devoted to its nature, unlike the bathhouses in the Slums, the majority of which were glorified brothels.

Fritha shifted slightly, the warm water rippling about her and she watched her hair billow and swirl just under the surface like some sort of exotic seaweed. They had stayed in the bathhouse for the rest of the day, hardly talking and just sat in the water, each mulling over their own thoughts as the hours crept by. Fritha sighed, glancing over to where Nalia was sat, unable to miss the gooseflesh bristling on her smooth freckled shoulders.

'Are you cold?'

The girl nodded vaguely, sinking lower in the pool and Fritha leaned over to ladle another cup of water over the coals, the air hissing as steam engulfed them once more. Fritha looked up, watching the golden shimmer of the vapours as they hung about the lantern, imagining the darkening city above them.

'Do you think Bylanna has the documents by now?'

Nalia's shrug sent a tide of ripples across the water.

'I don't know. Even if she has, the courts here work slowly. It could be days before Isea is investigated, if he is at all; he has some powerful friends. But if he is formally accused then they will have to try him, the law is quite strict in that respect, noble or not.'

Fritha swallowed, glad for her veil of steam as she asked the inevitable question.

'And what will happen to your keep?'

Nalia glanced up sharply, their eyes meeting across the water before she turned away, her look almost guilty.

'Well, Isea's rights to inherit my home stemmed from it being my dowry and he was allowed to keep it under the terms of the marriage contract as I refused to honour the betrothal and at such a late stage in the proceedings. My father and his parents both knew I did not like Isea, I suppose they had the clause written in because they worried I would become more reluctant as the marriage drew closer; it was certainly a very effective way of keeping me committed. However, among noble houses such contracts are undertaken with unspoken assurances of certain things, such as, oh, I don't know, noble lineage, no hidden debts-'

'And Isea not being a slaver.'

Nalia smiled slightly.

'That would be one of them, yes. It could be argued that he signed under false pretences, which would void the agreement. That being the case, the keep would return to de'Arnise rule,' Nalia glanced to her, her face a mask in the gloom, 'namely, mine.'

Fritha felt as though something had struck her, heavy and deep inside her chest and it took her a moment to draw enough breath for the reply.

'Oh, well, that- that would be good, wouldn't it?'

'But, I mean, Isea hasn't even been accused yet,' Nalia continued quickly, clearly worried by her tone and leaving her seat to swim across to her, the hand she placed on her arm feeling strange under the water. 'And even if he is found guilty, the case would have to be argued before the magistrate and I doubt the Roenalls would let the place go without a fight. The keep is really no closer to me than it was yesterday.'

Nalia smiled reassuringly and Fritha nodded, returning the gesture and they stayed so a moment or two before they both turned away again. Nalia could say what she wished, but it was not true and they both knew it.

'Come on,' Fritha sighed eventually, water sloshing noisily over the tiled floor as she rose to throw a towel about her shoulders, 'if it's not safe to leave now, it never will be.'

Outside the dusk was deepening just as Fritha had imagined, the shadows lengthening as a deep indigo stain crept slowly across from the eastern skies. The air was cold, especially after the humid heat of the baths and they made a brisk pace back to the slums, both shivering under their cloaks, her damp hair making Fritha's head ache. There seemed to be more guards about than usual, patrolling the emptying streets in groups and pairs, Fritha forcing herself to pass them unshrinking, as one who had nothing to hide, and it felt like an age before they were standing before the Coronet once more, the windows aglow with a warm welcoming light.

Fritha pushed open the door and it did not take long to find them, even in the usual throng of patrons, four drawn faces looking up at the slam of the door and Minsc was on his feet before they'd even reached their table, pulling her and then Nalia into a ferocious embrace.

'Oh, young ones, you have returned! Boo has been so very worried!'

'Hush, Minsc,' warned Jaheira quietly, though she looked no less relieved to see them, Anomen scrubbing a hand weakly over his pale face, while Aerie set two cups before them as they sat, pouring them some ale and chattering quietly all the while.

'We were so worried you'd been caught, you've been hours!'

Fritha sent her an apologetic look.

'Sorry, we thought it best to lay low for a while afterwards. The nearby bathhouse seemed as good a place as any.' She smiled faintly, holding up a hand of shrivelled fingers and Aerie giggled nervously.

'Haer'Dalis has gone out to get more news of the burglary. Half the guards in the city are supposedly assigned to it and they've been putting these up all around the city.' A pause as the elf held up a large square of parchment with the words "Wanted Notice" printed at the top in large bold letters, the rest covered by two columns in a small neat hand, 'though Isea is apparently very reluctant to let anyone onto his estate.'

'I'll bet he is,' Fritha muttered darkly into her cup, Aerie nodding as she continued.

'He is saying the robbers were discovered and fled empty-handed. Though we didn't quite know what to believe, the only witness claimed it was carried out by a human woman and a half-elven youth of,' Aerie glanced again to the parchment she held, 'most violent character.'

Fritha sighed wearily.

'Yes, that sounds like us. And no, we certainly were not empty-handed.'

'So it all went without a hitch,' confirmed Jaheira and Fritha shrugged.

'Yes, mostly,' she agreed, her guilt resurfacing as she saw the housekeeper again behind her eyes, terrified and sobbing; well, at least she had been unable to identify them. 'We had what proof we found sent to Magistrate Ianulin anonymously. Now all we can do is wait.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia, the girl holding her gaze a moment, tired and pensive, before dropping her eyes back to her cup and Fritha had to ignore the dull twinge of melancholy as she returned her attention to the table.

'So how went the meeting with the fallen knights? Was Anarg pleased to get his cup… back…'

Fritha trailed off, a palpable gloom descending over the group at her words, Jaheira and Aerie sharing an unreadable look as Anomen glanced up to answer her.

'Anarg was very pleased with his cup, though unfortunately less satisfied with our alliance. He knew the Order had sent us and a fight broke out.'

Fritha drew a sharp breath.

'You mean they… they're all dead?'

'Come, my lady,' he scolded with a weary amusement, 'had they all risen against us we would not be here now. No, once Anarg showed himself as the blackguard he was, Reynald and some of the others sided with us.'

'And then?'

Anomen's eyes darkened and after a moment, Jaheira answered for him.

'We let them go. Though not before we had agreed to ensure a decent burial for the fallen; the priests of Illmater happy to oblige us for a donation of two hundred gold to the temple.'

Fritha nodded. She would not have cared even had they asked double for such a task, the girl turning wordlessly back to Anomen.

'And I returned the cup to the Order,' the squire sighed, placing a small leather purse on the table and pushing it towards her, 'There, our payment. I informed Sir Ryan of what occurred. He said he was glad that Anarg had been dealt with and that he understood my reasoning over Reynald, though it was not an acceptance he bore with any air of approval … Still, he told me he expects my test will be very soon, so I have obviously done something to distinguish myself.'

He snorted humourlessly and Fritha could tell he did not think this recognition was for something, in any way, good. She sighed, feeling her guilt anew. She should have been there, not that the situation would have likely unfolded any differently, but then at least it would have spared Anomen from having to choose between his heart and his dreams of joining the Order.

'Well, if the words of a thief still hold any value for you, I think you did the right thing.'

Anomen stared at her a long while, his eyes dark and contemplative before he seemed to remember himself. He smiled wanly but said nothing.

'So what do you have planned for tomorrow?' asked Jaheira, breaking the silence and Fritha sighed again, leaning back in her chair. If she was honest, she wanted nothing more than to leave that city and never look back, but she settled for the next best thing.

'I think Trademeet's beckoning, don't you?'