Aelicia turned from the table where she'd just set the serving tray and called out, "Donel, don't be so shy; come on in and close the door." She looked up at Neeshka and smiled in apology. "I'm so sorry, Mi'Lady, he's a little slow-witted."
The serving girl was making a big show of pushing a well built half-elven boy into the room. The tiefling couldn't help but smile, she was enjoying the show. Her smile broadened considerably when she saw what he was carrying. Tie came through. My armor and weapons, Neeshka rejoiced.
Her eyes widened at what she saw; Her rogue links had been thoroughly cleaned, the leather, carefully oiled. The same was true of her battered old shoulder bag. Its frayed straps had even been replaced; It looked brand new. She was relieved to see her bow and short sword slung across the stable boy's broad back.
It gave the rogue pause to see the shining darksteel and duskwood inlays on the sword's scabbard. Even though they protected her back from the blade's lightning enchantment, those shining patches were visible at great distances. I'll need to dull that beautiful work with stove-black again, she lamented.
"It all goes over there," Aelicia directed her helper. Her affection for him showed in the way she spoke. It reminded the tiefling of a farmer guiding a treasured ox. "You're done here. Make your manners," she rubbed his back with a twinkle in her eye.
"Top of the mornin', my lady," he shyly intoned, sweeping into a surprisingly graceful bow that tugged at Neeshka's heart.
"Anything else, my lady?" the serving girl asked after ushering the stable boy out with the chamber pot. "He'll be back after he empties it," she giggled.
Thinking of the moon elf's off-hand comments from the night before, Neeshka sniffed and said, "Is there any way I can get a bath? I'm starting to itch."
"I wasn't going to mention it." Aelicia sniffed dramatically and they both burst out laughing. "I'll see about drawing a tub full this afternoon. It won't take long to heat." she promised.
Ammon Jerro was studying in his room at the Phoenix Tail Inn. These accommodations provided for him at Crossroad Keep by his newest ally, a Knight-Captain of Neverwinter, no less, were barely adequate. And where was the illustrious Knight-Captain? At this very moment, she was posturing with the other Noble fools at Castle Never, while he cooled his heels here. He would make very good use of his time though.
There was very little written about his interest, but he had enough material at present to keep him busy. Two clerical tomes that dealt with spirituality lay open before him. In his hands was a necromantic treatise on the afterlife. There were two references to reincarnation that were mentioned in both schools of thought. One reference could be a coincidence, but two were a cause for further study. The spirit of his slain grand-daughter awaited a new life.
A rapping on the door made him look up. "What is it?" he didn't bother to mask his irritation. He hated to be interrupted. He looked up and pretended to smile. At least she's human, Ammon thought. Her mousy brown hair and gray eyes didn't appeal to him.
The young woman who entered was obviously with child. A fallen angel of the Neverwinter nobility, her taste for expensive clothes was an irritation. Her familiarity with him irritated even more. "Ammon, you promised to take me back to Blacklake. There's nothing but broadcloth in the shop here," her voice was almost a whine.
"The stage leaves for Neverwinter at noon tomorrow. You will have to wait until then." He'd forgotten that promise, if he'd ever made it. After seeing her reaction, his tone softened, "Please forgive me. I can't go with you. I am very close to a breakthrough here." He failed to tell her that his frustration at not finding the familiar was mounting. That damned devil and the vessel with Shandra's spirit had disappeared at the same time. Still, the woman's child was not due for at least two more months. After his child was born, he would not have any more use for its mother. He still had time to conduct a thorough search.
Neeshka was once again with the Knight-Captain in the guardroom. Castle Never, perched protectively on a hill overlooking Neverwinter, slept on around them. Tie now looked better. That used, tired appearance was fading as the days passed. Enforced rest was doing the moon elf a world of good.
"You summoned me, oh mighty one?" the tiefling sketched a mocking bow.
Tiernah ignored her behavior, knowing that it was a sign of good humor rather than a show of disrespect. That was just Neeshka's way. "Have you seen that familiar you named Moonbow lately?" she asked, pausing from her note writing.
"No, not lately," the rogue replied thoughtfully. "The last time I saw her was when you came out of the guardroom. She wasn't in my bag when I first looked for her at Lord Never's Tomb. I don't know where to start looking for her."
Tie put her writing aside, a concerned look was on her face. "Moonbow's instinct would tell her to go home. I bet she's at the Phoenix Tail in Crossroad Keep. As a matter of fact, I'm sure that is where she is."
Neeshka had a flash of intuition. "Does this have anything to do with your dreams?" she asked, looking down at the pile of notepaper on the side table.
"It has everything to do with my dreams. I believe Sehanine spoke to me last night. Moonbow needs a ride to Highcliff; Shandra's new life will begin there. Here is what we need to do," the moon elf said as she picked up her neatly printed notes and began her briefing.
The stable boy was in good spirits in spite of the early hour. He enjoyed being the first one in. Neverwinter's stable, with its warm smell of earth and animals, was quiet. Equine ears turned his way as he walked whistling to a stall with a gilt-edged sign that read; Atara en Ohtarea. Donel was unable to read, but he knew the elven script meant; Mother of Warriors.
This stable housed some of the finest horses on the Sword Coast. 'Tara was above them all, and not because she now belonged to him. Her cream-colored coat and dark sable mane, tail, and legs were associated with the Knight of Neverwinter, but her real hallmark was her size. She was bred to be able to carry a fully armed and armored knight into battle, and return him home safely. Although Donel was considered a big boy, when seated on her broad back, he looked like a small child.
Her life as a brood mare was in the past. Her daughters now filled that role. Her sons were known throughout the realm for their strength and intelligence. Trusting that there were many years left in one of his prize horses, Lord Nasher awarded her to the stable hand who had showed great valor in the recent Battle of Castle Never.
Donel had, upon seeing a cadre of shadow priests approaching the castle, locked the postern gate and sounded the alarm to rouse the guards. His actions, in Lord Nasher's estimation, had denied the enemy a victory. Legend had it that the guards found the stable boy on the parapet throwing large rocks down on the frustrated invaders as he screamed obscenities at them. Donel was so embarrassed by the guards' account, he denied the whole thing.
"Wake up, sweetheart. Let's get to work," he crooned to his most prized possession. Her rumbling nicker in return always lifted his spirits. After dumping a bucket of grain into her feed-box, he snapped her lead rope to the halter ring and tied the other end to a cleat fastened to the wall. "Rules... rules... rules," he grumbled good-naturedly. He had been told that chargers were to be tethered at all times because they were so unpredictable, but 'Tara was a danger to no one. Why her? he wondered. "Oh well," he sighed, picking up his brush and starting in on her coat.
"Donel, are you in here?" he recognized Aelicia's voice at once. She's here early, he thought. Better get her ride ready. He hurried to finish 'Tara's coat. It wouldn't do to hold up his girl's outing due to his slowness. She had too little time off work anyway.
"She'll be ready in a flash," the stable boy called, not wanting to show he felt rushed. The last thing in the world he wanted was for his half-elf sweetheart to be upset with him.
"The braid in her tail looks great," he thanked her with a broad smile. Less tangles to unsnarl, his laziness added. "When you do the mane, she'll be parade ready," He finished the horse's forelock and bowed to his girl like a courtier.
Aelicia smiled with her heart at his antics. Most folks in Neverwinter thought of him as simple-minded, but around the horses, especially Lord Nasher's chargers, Donel possessed an almost magical touch. Even the nastiest stallion to ever wear the blue eye, Tornado, settled right down when the half-elf stable boy held his lead. Sir Grayson insisted that Donel saddle 'nado and pass up his lance at every tourney. Aelicia believed, with some pride, that that was why Sir Grayson was Neverwinter's champion.
"I won't be riding today, love," Aelicia told her Donel in a teasing tone. "But you will be. You're riding to Crossroad Keep on an important errand. Let's get you cleaned up and presentable."
At the same time that Donel was brushing his prized mare in Neverwinter, Rolan Edgewater awoke in familiar surroundings, his own bedroom at his parent's home in Highcliff. This was the same room he had grown up in, but his narrow child's bed had been replaced by his marriage bed three years ago, when his childhood sweetheart, Lillith, accepted his proposal.
His transition to married life had been smooth. His new wife's sweet temper enabled her to handle his thunderous mood swings with an ease that his moon-elf mother eventually accepted and finally became proud of. Rolan and Lillith were a good match, although there were times when the newlyweds had their disagreements. The scarred wallboard in their bedroom was proof of that.
Rolan stopped mid-way through his yawning, joint popping stretch, feeling a brief moment of panic, Lil wasn't here in the bed. She's probably in the necessary, he reasoned. She'll be back before long. He finished stretching and sat up. There was about an inch of sand left in the top of the hourglass on the side-table. Time to rise and shine, he told himself.
"Mornin' 'ta," Rolan stifled a yawn. "It seems I've misplaced a wife. Have you seen Lil?"
His mother looked up from her shopping list with her usual distracted expression. "She's upstairs, I think. She said something about having trouble sleeping. Do you think it's the baby?" his mother fretted.
"No, not this time." The father-to-be rolled his eyes. "Our Lillith is suffering from bad dreams; The Lunar Lady's curse," he intoned, like a long-suffering saint.
"Sehanine curses the unfaithful," his mother admonished. She'd always taken her chosen deity very seriously. "A warning in a dream is not a curse, but if one ignores that warning, the result could be called a curse."
"Sorry 'ta, I didn't quite mean it like it sounded." His apology sounded lame, even to him.
"Well, when you find her, tell her it's time to eat," Rolan's mother sighed. "That's going to be some baby. I've never seen a woman eat as much as Lillith does."
He nodded in agreement. His wife's appetite was legendary. Rolan's face clouded over when a thought occurred to him. He looked at his mother and asked, "Anyone seen the cat lately?"
"Rolan, that is not funny," she said, outraged, flapping her hand at him in a go away gesture.
He left with the conclusion that neither pregnant wives nor moon elf mothers had much of a sense of humor.
Lil was indeed upstairs. Many years ago, Rolan's father built a platform on the patio roof for his new wife. Being a moon elf, Rolan's mother loved it. She could see the entire sky at night, including her beloved moon. She'd furnished its raised floor with a comfortable chair, flanked by two silver planters, overflowing with Moonflower vines. She had also stacked several woven floormats in a corner for reverie and communion. This was his mother's upstairs.
Lillith had moved the chair to one side and now sat cross-legged on a mat in the center of the floor. Her half-elven beauty enthralled him now more than ever; It took his breath away. Her fair hair and skin, matched with beautiful pale gold eyes spoke of her sun elf heritage. She was also a quarter-drow, it sometimes showed in her temper, but not often.
He sat down, not wanting to disturb her enjoyment of the spectacular sunrise. "Hi sunny," he finally broke the silence.
"Hi yourself," her reply was neutral, belied by her bright smile. She continued watching the sun's ascent.
"Bad dreams?" he asked rubbing wider and wider circles on her back.
The silence stretched out as the sun slowly pulled itself above the horizon. This was a special time for his newly-minted wife; The start of a new day.
"Well, I can see you're busy." He stood up to leave.
Without a word, she took his hand, urging him to sit again. A minute later, she spoke, "Sehanine is speaking to me. I'm sure of it." His wife was having trouble finding the right words. "I just don't understand what Our Lunar Lady is trying to tell me."
"It's the same dream you had before, right?" He wasn't sure what to ask. The best he could do was reassure her that he was there.
Clutching her swollen middle protectively, she told him, "It's the tattooed one. I'm standing on a high castle wall looking down on a broad green pasture, and he's down below, looking up at me. He doesn't move; He just gazes at me calmly, but I can feel his... menace. I know he means to harm me and the baby. He calls up to me, 'Her spirit is for my child, not yours. On your life, stay away.'"
"Who is he? Have you ever seen him before?" her husband asked gently. He'd never seen her this upset about a dream before.
"No, he's a stranger," she replied, her brow furrowed. "But, somehow, I knew he was very powerful. Maybe he's a wizard, but I'm sure he's from the dark side." She shivered in her husband's arms.
She continued, "last night's dream was a little different. He was still watching me, but a child on a horse passed behind him. The child was so small, I was afraid he would fall off the galloping horse, but he managed to stay in the saddle. After the horse and rider passed, the wizard turned back to me with an evil smile on his face. It was then that he spoke to me again. All he said was, 'It is too late... It is done.' His hideous laughter woke me up and I haven't been able to sleep since."
"It's alright, I'm here. He will not harm you." Rolan assured is distraught wife, tightening his arms around her.
"You don't understand," she lamented, finally losing her composure. "I don't think anything or anyone can stop him; He's a demon." Then the tears came.
Neeshka sat quietly in her quarters located next to Lord Nasher's throne room, a glass of wine at her right hand. Aelicia would be appearing soon, hopefully with her beau, Donel. After being briefed by Tiernah last night, the rogue had slept fitfully. They'd spent some time making plans, influenced by the moon elf's most recent dreams.
Their plans revolved around finding Moonbow and delivering her from the danger that lived at Crossroad Keep. A safe haven for the familiar was with the Edgewater family in Highcliff, about a day's ride from Crossroad. Rolan Edgewater's mother was a sister moon elf; Tie had assured Neeshka that Moonbow would be safe there.
Grey Co. Elven Translations;
Atara en Ohtarea-Mother of Warriors ('Tara-fam. col. used by Donel.)
atara-mother ('ta-fam. col. used by Rolan.)