Chapter 11 Pretrial Nerves
It was nearly dawn by the time she finally got to sleep after slipping out of bed and kissing Cillian on the snout. Poor bear, he had been cooped up in her room for too long, but she swore to make it up to him. She crawled back under the covers and Bishop snuggled against her back, curling an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She drifted off to sleep to the feeling of his warm breath on her neck. Every so often he would stir and murmur softly and give her a squeeze, and she squeezed his hand in return and went back to sleep. This was her favorite time with him. It felt like she had just fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep when there was a sharp rap on her door. Sand was punctual as usual. He called out cheerily, "Wakey wakey! Come along, sleepyhead. It's midday and we have to make you presentable." He knocked again louder for good measure. "Don't make me come in there, little girl."
Dee squinted at the sliver of light streaming in through the gap between the curtains and saw that the sun was directly overhead. She groaned, "Alright Sand, I'm up. I'll get dressed and meet you at your shop." She turned over and gave Bishop a kiss and ruffled his already tousled hair then disentangled herself from his grasp and knelt beside her chest.
Bishop raised his head and stared daggers at the door and muttered, "Let me kill him and we can go back to sleep." He fell back on the bed, watched dig through her trunk and thought of pulling her back to bed. That pansy mage could wait. "Come back to bed. You need something to help you relax, take your mind off the trial, so we should just stay here all day."
She glanced over her shoulder at him grinning at her and patting the bed, his long, lean body barely covered by the sheet and was filled with a sudden urge to pounce on him, but she shook off her lustful thoughts. "Tempting as that is, and it is very tempting, I can't," she replied firmly. "'Tis late, and besides, you already got seconds when we got back to the room this morning."
He smirked and and put his arms behind his head. "Yeah, I did, but I can't help it if I'm a hungry man and you're showin' me a banquet, sweetheart. Why do you need something new? Can't you just wear something you already have?"
Dee shook her head as she slipped on her small clothes. "Sand says the most important part of the trial is theatrics and presentation, and I have to do everything I can to counter Torio Claven. I have to look like I'm innocent. She already looks like a cheap trollop. It's the contrast, you see?"
"Fine, I'll go back to sleep." He pouted and turned on his side and pulled his pillow over his head for a minute before he turned back and peered out at Dee. "Dont' forget to buy some more of that potion while you're over there. You have been having your monthly on time?"
"Hells, Bish," Dee replied tersely as she wiggled a pair of leggings over her hips. "You keep better track of that than I do." She held up various articles of clothing, discarded most in a heap on the floor, then decided on a simple forest green tunic rather than a shirt and a bodice to make it easier to try things on. "But if you must know, I'm due any day. I have cramps that make me want to go kill something, my back aches, and I feel so bloated I can hardly get into my leggings, if that eases your mind. Might actually help with the trial though..." she muttered.
He grumbled, "I thought you seemed as irritable as your bear. Great, I guess that means I'm not getting any until it's over, and with the trial tomorrow..."
She sat in the chair next to her table and pulled on her socks and boots and scoffed. "When have I ever not given you something? More than you give me sometimes. You know, most men would be sympathetic, might even offer to rub my back or get me some herbal tea." Karnwyr stirred and licked her hand, and she scratched him behind the ears. "At least Karnwyr is sympathetic," she added.
He chuckled and lay back again. "He's a dog, he'll do anything to get you to scratch behind his ears. Yeah, you do take care of me, sweetheart. Get your dogs to take care of you. Get the elf to rub your feet and mix you some tea. Or the paladin." He leered at her. " I have better uses for you. Now come on, come over here. All this talk about it is making me tense."
She turned and faced the mirror as she cleaned her teeth. Looking at him was too tempting. She spit and replied, "I'll see you tonight. How about we have supper here in the room and a bottle of mead and you can help me relax."
But then another thought began to nag at him, and he sat up and stared at her. "You're sure you're not overdue? You sure that isn't morning sickness you have?" The problem with wenches was sooner or later they always wanted a brat. You just couldn't trust them. He didn't think there was a wench alive who was above 'forgetting' to take the potion. The longer you stayed with one, the more likely she was going to present you with a howling brat that may or may not bear any resemblance to you.
She snorted and dragged a brush through her pale shining hair. "Yeah Bish, that's all I need right now. I can tell the King of Shadows he has to wait to attack until I find a sitter." She pulled it into a loose braid and looked back at him watching her. She picked up her sword belt but thought better of it and slipped a few daggers into her boots instead. She looked into his eyes and said haltingly, "But you know Bish...honestly...I do want to have a couple of kids in a few years when I'm older, once I've seen somethin' of the world and I'm ready to settle down. Haven't you ever thought about a kid with your hair and my eyes?"
He gave her a look of utter disgust and replied angrily, " Why is it you wenches can't wait to squeeze out a couple of howling brats? I swear, you're all alike, it's all you think about! Since we're being so honest, you better belive me when I tell you I'm not looking to get tied down ever, sweetheart, so put that thought out of your head right now!"
She tied her pouches onto her belt and put on her spectacles and replied with a huff, "You're the one who brought it up. Fine, it's been noted. But why the hells am I the one who has to drink that disgusting potion every tenday? I don't see why you're not takin' a potion yourself if you're so worried about it!" She stormed to the door, followed by Cillian, who gave Bishop a final growl.
He looked at her like she was mad. "Well now you're just being stupid! I'm not a wench. I can't get knocked up!"
She narrowed her eyes at him and replied coolly, "I'll speak to Sand. I'm sure a simple polymorph spell would fix that." They stepped out, and she slammed the door hard enough to rattle the window.
"Should've figured she would have to get the last word in," he muttered to Karnwyr before he angrily punched the pillow a few times and tried to go back to sleep. But sleep eluded him now. He lay there a while then gave up. "I should follow her to see what she's really up to," he muttered to no one in particular. Karnwyr just whined in response. "Or see what she was up to last night."
He got up and walked to her laundry basket, dropped to his haunches beside it, and pulled out the clothes on top, a black tunic and leggings and a black silk scarf. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Whatever she was up to with the the devil girl last night led them into the sewers, so it wasn't likely that she had been in someone's bed. He sighed in relief despite himself and checked for hidden pockets but found none. What was it about her that made him feel like this? Whatever it was, he didn't like it. It was like a weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe. It was taking away his control. He dug out other articles of clothing from the basket and smelled them one after another, but other than her own musky scent, he only detected his own. He returned the clothes to the basket and rubbed his chin as he thought about it. Maybe there was loot stashed. Not likely though, because she hadn't had time to stash anything this morning before he surprised her. Still, it wouldn't hurt to look.
He knelt down and looked under her bed but only found a sock, then found nothing under her matress, then crossed over to her chest as Karnwyr looked at him curiously. "What are you looking at, mutt?" he grumbled. Karnwyr sighed and lay his head on his paws. Bishop opened the chest, which had been emptied considerably since she had thrown half its contents on the floor. He memorized the way the remaining contents were placed, not that she was likely to notice anything out of place with the chaos she had left. He went through her small clothes and smelled them to see if he picked up someone else's scent, but there was nothing, only the scent of lavender.
He dug to the bottom and found her old farmer clothes and shook his head. Why would she even hang on to these? Wenches were sentimental like that though. He found a small leather pouch with something hard inside it and poured it out into his hand. He raised his eyebrow as he saw a small silver pin shaped like a harp. Only one reason she would have that, and it explained a few of her disappearances. Too bad he was sleeping with her because he knew a few people who would pay for that information. There was the green cloak that she was wearing the first time he saw her. Underneath it was a neatly folded brown tunic. He paused, then drew it out. A man's tunic. That didn't mean anything though. Half of the time she dressed in men's tunics, but that common among warrior women, especially one who was over six feet tall and had shoulders and arms like a blacksmith. He held it up and looked at it. It was a man's, but not one that she could ever wear and still hope to breathe. It was small enough to fit a lad, or...an elf.
He flushed with rage. Who was he? Couldn't be that nancy mage, who wouldn't be caught dead in a rough tunic like this. Whoever he was, he was dead. He'd get it out of her when she came back. How to confront her on it without letting her know he'd been spying? He looked at the pile of clothes on the floor then folded them neatly and placed them back in the chest, putting the elf's tunic on top. But then while he was trying to think of the elves she knew, he remembered that her foster father was one, and a wave of relief washed over him. It made sense that she had grabbed it by mistake in her haste to put that mudhole she was raised in behind her. He compared it to the clothes she had brought with her and saw that it was made from the same fabric as one of her tunics. He moved her clothes and placed it where he had found it then sighed and sat back against the chest and rubbed his head. Damned wench was making him crazy, and he didn't like it. He hastily pulled on his clothes and whistled for Karnwyr. "Let's get out of here."
Dee slipped out the side door to avoid Shandra until she had time to talk to Sand, which was no small feat when accompanied by a bear. She stepped into his shop and looked about furtively to make sure no one else was there.
Sand stepped away from his workbench and removed a heavy leather apron and neatly folded it and set it aside. "Ah, there you are at last, and with only a small part of your entourage. I was beginning to wonder if you would arrive before the shops close."
She flushed and replied, "Sorry Sand, but I got to sleep late last night...or this morning. Bishop got back last eve." She glanced around the shop again and asked in a whisper, "Do you have some kinds of wards up so we can't be scryed here?"
He arched an eyebrow and replied smoothly, "Naturally. Why? What's the matter?"
She bolted his door then opened the enchanted bag he had sold her and began to withdraw pieces of armor and place them on his workbench. She met his eyes and said, "I need your help getting this back to its rightful owners."
He arched his eyebrow so high it nearly blended into his hairline and picked up a greve to examine the workmanship more closely. Just this morning a rather large thuggish looking man was making the rounds of the merchants to see if someone had tried to sell some things which had been taken in a brazen burglary in the Blacklake district, and a set of antique Elven armor was among the things he was looking for. He met her eyes, took her hand, and asked calmly, "Little girl, what have you been up to, hmmm?"
"Undercover work for the Watch," she lied, flushing. But it was just a white lie, she told herself. She was already cataloguing in her mind the other things she had seen in The Collector's vault that she intended to research to see if they had been stolen. "I'm thinkin' this rightly belongs to the royal family on Evermeet, and you're the only one I know who might have an idea how to get it back to them."
He noted the flush and returned a skeptical look. "Indeed. And it didn't occur to you to turn it in to Captain Brelaina or Marshall Cormick?"
She looked desparate. "Please, Sand, you know it would get tied up in the courts, and he might have some documents to show it was his legally. But even if he did buy it and hadn't had it stolen for him, it doesn't belong to him, sitting there in his private vault. It belongs to your people. It's Ar' Salu' Tel' Quisst."
"Ar' Selu' Tel' Quess," he corrected, wincing. He didn't know what was more appalling--her human accent or the rustic Elven dialect she spoke. "'Great high art of the People.' And you're right, though I strongly suspect you're not telling me the whole truth. Very well then, I'll look in to it, but I will need to hide it until I can make the proper contacts. Now be a good girl and help me move this workbench."
She got a grip on the bench and muscled it aside. "Gods, that's heavy, Sand. Don't you have a spell to move that?" She couldn't imagine he could move it any other way. She could barely make out a trap door beneath it in the floor.
He replied with an evil grin, "Of course, but then I couldn't enjoy watching you straining your muscles, and besides, I still owe you for telling Bishop I'm a homosexual. Now be a good girl and bring that armor down the stairs." He pushed at a sconce on the wall, which made the trap door spring open, and picked up his cat and stroked its fur affectionately. "Wouldn't do to have you locked up down there, would it? But if I leave you up here, the bear will probably eat you."
A short time later after the armor was safely stowed away, Sand locked up the shop and they returned to the tavern to collect Neeshka, Shandra, and Elanee. Dee noticed Qara sitting alone and felt a pang of guilt for leaving her at the tavern most of the time. She smiled and said, "You're welcome to come along with us." Qara actually smiled back at her for a second before she caught herself and assumed her usual air of teenage disdain.
"It beats sitting around this dump," she answered haughtily.
They strolled to the Merchant quarter where Sand led them to the Moonstone Mask. Dee looked at him inquiringly, and Sand explained, "I thought it would be better to have some things sent over here rather than traipsing from shop to shop, so I arranged one of the private rooms for our use. This way we gain the benefit of Ophala's judgement as well."
They were ushered into a private room upstairs with a broad, cool balcony that was screened for privacy. There were several comfortable chairs and a table along the wall laden with the delicacies that the Mask was known for--bite sized boar and veal, seafood, or bacon and kidney pies, skewers of the tiny fish known as silverflash, baby octopus with a herb-butter sauce, mushrooms in garlic sauce, sliced marinated carrots, scallions and fennel, blackberry and gooseberry tarts, a variety of sliced cheeses, and fresh strawberries dipped in Calimshan chocolate! Along with this was a good selection of wines, mead, and chilled ale, as well as minted water. There was even a bucket of fresh raw fish for Cillian. Elanee looked over the selection and gasped, "It's all so decadent!" She selected a few slices of carrot for herself, a tart for Naloth, and some water and found a seat with a view of the park.
They made a most unladylike attack on the buffet like they were starving. Dee went to pour herself a mug of mead, but Sand put his hand over the top of the goblet. "None for you, dear girl. You have to be sharp for tomorrow, and so do I. Try the minted water."
She muttered, "Fine," and stuck her tongue out at him and poured a them each a mug of water. She consoled herself by filling a plate of fish skewers, strawberries and the last few gooseberry tarts, which she knew were Sand's favorite. "I really need some raspberry leaf tea anyway. So what's the plan?"
Elanee put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Raspberry leaf? I should have guessed by how tense you are. I can see the puffyness around your eyes too. I'll get you some tea that's better than raspberry leaf." She glided silently out the door to the kitchen.
Qara sniffed, "I thought she was tense was because of the huge fight she had with Bishop this morning."
Dee suddenly regretted inviting Qara along and looked down, avoiding the eyes of her friends, who said nothing during the ensuing awkward silence but communicated in exchanged pitying glances.
Shandra stared off the balcony sipping some ale then jumped up and said quickly, "Oh, there's Captain Brelaina. I'll be right back, Dee!" She went out the door almost at a run as the others chuckled. She hadn't gotten far with Captain Brelaina, whose only passion seemed to be for furthering her own career, but she hadn't given up. She nearly collided in the doorway with Elanee returning with the tea and honey.
Some of Ophala's servants entered carrying in a few large boxes followed by Faelynaath, the Elven owner of the large and special size shop. Sand smiled at her and glided over and kissed her cheek. "Ah, here we are. Ophala will be along shortly, so why don't you show our little girl here what you brought?" He settled into a comfortable chair, smoothed out his robes, and sat back to watch with his fingers steepled under his chin.
Faelynaath unpacked a selection of large scarves in a variety of colors. "First off, we have to determine which color suits her best." She draped a hot pink scarf around Dee's shoulders. "No, that doesn't work at all." She followed with forest green, which had possibilities, then black, but Sand shook his head. "Pity, black is one of her best colors."
Sand sniffed, "We want her to appear the innocent victim that she is. Black just screams 'guilty as charged! Save time and hang me now!'" As if to emphasize his point, Ophala entered followed by a few of her entertainers in their trademark diapanous black gowns. Sand sat forward and said, "Try white."
Faelynaath complied, draping Dee with white. Dee hated being on display like this, but it occurred to her it would get her in practice for tomorrow, so she bore with it and quietly sipped her tea. There was something that bothered her though. She sniffed the air. "What is that smell? 'Tis like night blooming honeysuckle, but it's cloyingly sweet."
The elf paused and replied coolly, "That's a perfume I sell, Darkest Desire. It's five hundred an ounce, however. I don't usually wear it, I have taste. But it's a favorite with many of the Blacklake girls. A customer spilled it on my sales counter this morning, and I my nose hasn't recovered yet. I suppose some must have gotten on my gown too though I can't smell it. You have more taste than many of the city's debutantes."
Dee furrowed her brow. "Strange. I swear that's what I smelled on Bish, but not at five hundred an ounce. And why would he be wearin' women's perfume anyway?"
Sand, Ophala, and Neeshka exchanged knowing glances and Neeshka noticing Qara's mouth opening, squeaked, "Here, Qara, you have to try this!" and quickly shoved a strawberry in Qara's mouth before she could say anything. She leaned over and hissed, "Not a word!" Qara scowled at her and chewed the strawberry. Not that she needed to say anything, as it was beginning to dawn on Dee as well.
Sand changed the subject smoothly. "Yes yes, white is lovely. It brings out the light in her hair as well as black does without the negative connotations. We can't have her looking like a cut-purse." He ignored Neeshka's cry of protest. "Faelynaath, let's try some simple white gowns." Ophala murmured her agreement.
Distracted by the horror of the thought, Dee whined, "Saaaand, I told you no dresses. Why not a white shirt and leggings or a white tunic? I haven't worn a dress since I was five!"
Sand replied evenly, "My dear girl, you're whining like you're five. The idea is to make you look less like a sell-sword. Besides, how do you know you don't like gowns if you haven't worn one in fifteen years, hmmm? Now will you be ruled by me?"
She sat back and sighed deeply and said "Fine, I will be ruled. I'll wear a dress. But nothing too frilly."
Ophala said brightly, "Oh, I know just the thing." She whispered to Faelynaath, who nodded and swished gracefully out of the room. "Now what were you thinking for her hair? Certainly not that braid. I don't understand why you don't wear it up, my dear." She swayed across the room and unbraided Dee's hair then ran her fingers through it while whispering a short incantation.
Dee felt a tingling sensation and pulled away in alarm. "What are you doing?"
Ohpala pulled her back into the chair with a surprisingly strong grip for a woman her age and muttered, "Don't make me use a 'Hold' spell on you, child. Don't move, you'll destroy the effect I'm trying to create. It's a cantrip called 'Paint.' It is used to change the color of nearly anything, even your eyes, and all my girls learn to use it to make themselves up."
Dee grinned. "So that's why your entertainers always look perfect."
Ophala said, "Sand thought I should add some silver streaks to your hair, just a subtle touch, and I'll add just a hint of color on your cheeks and lips and give you an overall glow. The effect lasts for about a month, so Sand can dispel it after the trial if you wish." She coiled Dee's hair around the top of her head. "Lovely. It's like a crown with the streaks I added."
Dee answered softly and looked down at the floor, "I may not be here long enough to worry about it. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I still think I should have taken Bish up on his offer to run off with him."
Neeshka almost choked on her wine. "He said that? You two should run away?"
Dee shrugged. "Yeah, he did, and I'm ashamed to admit to was ready to take him up on it. I was getting pretty desparate." Only Neeshka truly knew how desparate. "But I wasn't too sure he was serious anyway because he brought up how Casavir would disaprove when I agreed. Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I saw I couldn't let you all down, and I couldn't live with the shame either."
Sand stood and gave her an uncharacteristic hug. "I think we all can trust that you'll do the right thing, dear girl. Don't worry about the trial, we have plenty of evidence, and I've found a way out even if Torio Claven has bribed the entire town of Port Llast to testify against you. So don't let your ranger keep you up all night tonight having wild, lusty sex. You need your rest!"
Dee flushed scarlet and Ophala sat beside her and took her face in her hands. "Perfect! I want to do something with your natural coloring. Now be still, or I will use that 'Hold' spell." Sand came closer to watch, followed by Neeshka, Elanee, and even Qara, whose curiosity at a practical use for magic other than blowing things up got the better of her. Neeshka raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but Sand grabbed her tail and gave her a warning look.
Faelynaath entered just then carrying a bag, which she opened and produced a long, simple white robe. "I hope this will do."
Dee looked from her to Sand. "That looks like a cleric's robe. Sand, I can't pretend I'm a cleric!"
Sand waved a finger at her. "My dear, you said you would be ruled by me. It's not a cleric's robe, but it is the same style worn by acolytes at the temples of the good dieties. Now be a good girl and try it on behind that screen. Besides, you and your ranger can use it to play 'priestess and penitent' later after you win the trial. He seems the sort who would enjoy being disciplined for his sins."
Dee gasped, "Sand!" and flushed even deeper when Neeshka giggled loudly.
Ohpala stepped back to admire her work. "Perfect, if I do say so myself. My dear, I think you're ready."
It was well into the evening by the time they returned to the Flagon. Bishop wasn't in the common room, and Dee smiled to think he was probably waiting for her sprawled across her bed. Something was troubling her, and as much as she tried to strangle the thought or lock it away in a deep closet in her mind, it still managed to escape to plague her. What was he doing on his hunting trips that left him smelling of perfume? She didn't want to think about it, but there it was, and it certainly explained his jealousy. She tried to will the thought away. She told herself he cared for her, because the alternative was...So was it all a sham?
She passed Casavir in the hall and smiled at him. "Going to the temple at this hour?" There was still the awkwardness between them, but she was working to mend their torn friendship.
He smiled back softly. "As a matter of fact, I am. I've organized a prayer vigil on your behalf."
She was taken aback. "That's very kind of you, Cas. I greatly appreciate your prayers." She flushed with shame at the way the others joked about him and the way Bishop talked to him.
"It's not kindness, my lady. It's simply what must be done." He gave her a odd look as he stepped away that made her check to make sure she hadn't forgotten to lace her tunic.
Dee reached her room and opened the door, but he wasn't inside. He must still be mad. She looked around the room and noticed right away that Bishop had cleaned up her mess before he left. He can't be too mad then, but where is he? She draped the gown over the back of her chair and pulled off her clothes and dropped them in the laundry basket, and then she noticed that some clothes that had been on the bottom were now at the top. "If he's takin' my small clothes again..." she muttered. But nothing was missing. The thought ocurred to her that he was checking her things. She curled up beside Cillian on the floor and buried her face in his fur.
A few hours later she awoke to the sound of someone opening her door and Cillian growling. She blinked at a familar backlit form standing in the doorway. "Bish? Where have you been? I was hoping we could spend the evening together."
Karnwyr padded over for his ear scratching before taking his usual place. She stood and put her arms around him and gave him a kiss, but she sniffed him too. "Gods," she thought, "Have we come to the point where we don't trust each other?" She didn't smell that sweet scent, but the thought wouldn't leave her alone.
He shrugged. "I didn't make any promises. Karnwyr and I went fishing. I didn't feel like being in this filthy city today." He picked her up and kissed her and tossed her on the bed. "But I'm here now." He peeled off his clothes and tossed them on the floor.
She sat up and watched him and bit her lip nervously. It was now or never; she had to know where she stood with him, so she did what was becoming more natural with him every day. She lied. "Bish, Neesh and I got everything ready."
"Hmmm?," he murmured as he sat beside her and started kissing her. "What's ready?"
She whispered, "The escape, like we talked about? We got it all planned. If I'm found guilty, she got me a small lockpick that I can keep in my mouth to pick my shackles. Then I use this Dust of Disappearance and slip into the sewers. She'll be waiting for me, and by the time it wears off, I'll be out of the city. Get my pack and meet me by the pond where we camped. I hope you have that hidden trail already picked out." It amazed her how fast the lie came to her. Was it her imagination, or did he look nervous?
He sat back and stared at her. "I thought you were going to keep your options open? Besides, weren't you worried about what all your friends would think of you?" He never would have suspected this was what she and the devil girl were up to. She was right before, they would become outlaws, him as much as her. It was one thing to take out the back alley trash under cover of darkness and slip away quietly. It was another thing to become the accomplice of a convicted criminal. In his wildest dreams he had never expected her to agree. She gave him a sorrowful that made him feel like dirt, and he hated her for it.
"I guess you're right, Bish. I suppose I'll have to trust Nasher will see the truth. Do you mind if we just lie together tonight and and you hold me? I still don't feel well, and I'm not in the mood for anything else."
He leaned her back on the bed and resumed kissing her. She was going to pay for making him feel rotten like this. "Not a problem. I'm in the mood enough for both of us."