Chapter 16: So Many Choices, So Little Coin

or Nasher sucks all the fun out of shopping.

Note: I took the discussion of how a paladin might deal with carnal urges from an answer Ed Greenwood gave on the subject of paladins and sex at Candlekeep dot com, in which he discussed the subject at length.

The Luskans had left enough weapons and armor behind to equip some of the recruits as long as they didn't have any qualms about wearing armor that the previous wearer died in, so that was one less headache for Dee. After giving Kana orders to train the recruits and garrison the Keep and not to even think about sending them out on patrols yet, they set out for Neverwinter the following morning on horseback. They escorted the wagons that Master Veedle and Kana had brought, which were laden with Lord Nasher's tithe of the harvest. Thus the journey to Neverwinter, which they could have accomplished in just under a day and a half on horseback took nearly as long as if they had been on foot. Only Casavir and surprisingly, Sand were accomplished riders, though Dee and Shandra had both ridden plow horses a few times. Everyone was on horseback except Sand, who lounged on a cushion surrounded by baskets of produce in the back of the lead wagon reading a dusty tome he had liberated from the Keep's library, and Elanee, Grobnar and Neeshka, who sat in the second wagon on top of a pile of hay.

The gnome worked on a new song, plucking the same melody over and over. After a morning of this, the teamster driving that wagon scowled darkly, cursed, and threatened to strangle Grobnar with his lute strings. Dee narrowly avoided gnomicide by calling out, "Oi! Grobby, give us a song! How about The Ballad of the Drover and the Milkmaid?" It was lewd enough to entertain the teamsters, but not so much as to invoke the admonishment of the paladin. Dee found herself being more mindful of his sensibilities lately.

Grobnar beamed angelically at Dee and started to play it. "Always happy to play requests, Captain."

It was a warm, drowsy autumn afternoon of the second day on the trail, and they rode along lazily. The only sound was the occasional buzz of an insect and Grobnar's incessant plucking of the strings. As they came around a bend in the road, the lead teamster held up his hand and signaled a stop. Dee was distracted adding up in her mind for the twentieth time the funds she had on hand along with what she thought she could get from her swords and Shandra's bows and comparing that amount with the cost of different rebuilding scenarios, as well as what she needed to purchase in the city.

She rode ahead to see what was wrong, followed by Cillian, Shandra and Casavir, as the teamster peered nervously into the roadside brush and trees and reached for a cudgel he kept on the seat next to him. There was a tree lying across the road, and it only took the most casual of glances to see that it hadn't fallen naturally. To no one's s surprise, a dozen bandits immediately sprang from the brush sensing easy prey, merchants or farmers taking their harvest to market. It looked like from movement in the brush that there were at least as many more hiding. Bishop cursed and put an arrow through the leader's eye and another through his throat just after the man shouted "Stand and Deliver!," which gave them no choice but to fight.

In the aftermath as they dragged the corpses to the side of the road Dee growled, "Next time, don't attack until I give the signal, Bish! They might have surrendered! We don't have to slaughter everyone who crosses our paths!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Captain," he replied snidely. "Next time I'll wait until they kill one of you before I loose my arrows. I'm just trying to do my part and cover your ass when you charge to the front and get reckless."

"I'm just saying we don't have to kill every bandit we run across. We do plenty of killing as it is," Dee replied tersely as she helped Casavir, Shandra, and the teamsters muscle the tree aside while Elanee and Sand put out a fire in the brush started by one of Sand's spells.

Neeshka paused from looting corpses to interject matter-of-factly, "If we hadn't stopped them, Dee, they would have just preyed on someone else, so if you think about it, we probably save some merchants' lives."

Dee sighed and said, "You're right, Neesh. I'm sorry, I'm just getting weary of all the killin'. Thanks, that was a good shot, Bish, and I'm glad you're watchin' my ass when I get reckless."

He returned her a tight smile and said, "Just trying to do my part, Captain. Always happy to watch your ass." He stared at her for a reaction and was rewarded by a guilty half smile. Good, he was getting to her. If he played his cards right, he might be able to get some guilt sex out of it when they got to the city, but then he remembered his objective was regaining her trust. He had to tread carefully and bide his time until he could find out how much Duncan had told her. "You're getting soft, Bishop. It was stupid letting a wench get under your skin like this," he chided himself. "There'll be plenty of tail to chase in the city from women who won't expect anything but a few coins." He looked her over, noting how the attractive farm-fed country plumpness she had when she first arrived had all but melted away to be replaced by taught skin over lean muscle and thought, "Besides, with the short hair and the muscle she's put on, she's starting to look too much like a boy."

Casavir watched frowning but silently, astounded yet again not only by how manipulative Bishop could be, but also by how oblivious Dee was to it. But the last time he had tried to warn her she accused him of jealousy, and as he had thought it over during the months they had traveled together, he realized she was right. Even so, he would tell her the same thing today if she asked, convinced as he was that Bishop was doubly dangerous now that he no longer shared her bed. He could think of no good reason for the ranger to have remained with them unless it was in hopes of getting her to take him back, or unless he had some ulterior motive. Unfortunately, that train of thought led to thoughts of sharing her bed himself. He offered a silent prayer to Tyr for strength in overcoming his lustful feelings before they led him astray again. He had nearly fallen from grace once, and if not for his Lord's blessing, he might have died trying to redeem himself at Old Owl Well. It would not happen again.

As she climbed back into the saddle Dee asked, "Elanee, can you scout ahead by air? Come on, let's get back on the road."

They pulled into the city the next afternoon, and Neeshka hurled herself off the wagon and kissed the ground as soon as they passed through the gate. Dee laughed loudly at her then said, "Someone's glad to be back. I'll take this to the castle and return the horses and wagons and meet you back at the Flagon. No need for you all to go along."

Casavir said, "You will need help unloading the wagons, m'lady."

She smiled at him and said, "I don't plan to unload this myself, you know. Lord Nasher has people for that, but thanks."

Sand picked bits of hay and horse hair off his robe with a look of utter disgust and said, "I so want to see the look on the Quartermaster's face when you make your delivery, but I really must look in on my shop, and then I need a long bath."

Neeshka squealed, "Ooh, yes, a bath! With bubbles, Sand?" She helped Grobnar down, and as they scampered off like children chasing the shaved ice cart, she called back over her shoulder, "I'll make sure there's a hot bowl of something other than trail rations and a bath waiting for you, Dee!"

Dee chuckled and called back, "Sounds good!"

She turned back around and saw a startled-looking Elanee holding the reins to Bishop's horse, and he was striding quickly towards the entrance of Madam Enid's, one of the district's most economically priced festhalls. "Gods, he could catch something there," she mumbled, but then she reminded herself he wasn't her problem anymore, and what was more, what he did and who he did it with was no longer any of her business either. Elanee took charge of the horses to return them, and the rest of them drove through the city to the Blacklake district, where they took the service road to Castle Never. Dee announced to the guard at the gate with no small amount of self importance and satisfaction, "Captain Farlong from Crossroads Keep with the Lord's tithe from the harvest."

They unloaded the wagons and returned the horses in no time and walked back down the service road towards the gate leading out of the district. Dee glanced longingly at the back of Lord Tavorick's estate as they passed and paused.

"Is there something wrong, my lady?" Casavir inquired.

Dee flushed and replied with just a small lie, "I was thinking of stopping by to see how his lordship is recovering." She was concerned about him, but she also wanted to ask him about the woman in the painting in his chamber. She really didn't know what she wanted beyond that, even if she was granted entrance and he allowed her to see it again. She wasn't ready to face another knowing look at the mention of her mother's name and a searching look at her face as much as she wanted to see the portrait and more, take it with her. She continued on and said, "I don't want to stop in before I bathe and wash off the trail dust."

"That would be best," Casavir replied with a soft smile. "Remember, the nobility doesn't sweat, they perspire, and they certainly don't smell, so you can't go in there reeking of sweat and covered with dust and expect to be admitted, even if we did save his life."

Dee sniffed under her arm less than discreetly, gasped, and said, "I thought that was the horse. All right, I see your point. You all can go ahead then. I still want to stop off at the armorer and weapon smiths' shops on the way back and see if I can't persuade someone to come to work for us at the Keep for next to nothing. At least they're not likely to be offended by the smell of sweat."

Shandra laughed and replied, "Just keep telling yourself that as they step back from you discreetly, or not. Better to get a bath and put on some paint and some clean clothes, something like that blue bodice that pushes you up just right, and some silk leggings. They are men, after all. Right, Casavir?"

Casavir coughed and replied hoarsely, "Not all men are mindless slaves to the female form, Shandra."

Dee chuckled and swatted her on her backside. "Bad squire's squire! Stop teasing the paladin! Fine, let's go to the Flagon." She hesitated again as she remembered her other purpose for coming here. "We need to stop at the Watch headquarters first though and meet this mysterious prisoner to see what she has to say, and I don't care what she thinks I smell like. This shouldn't take too long, and anyway I hate to think of her languishing in the gaol needlessly."

Casavir replied thoughtfully, "You are right, but perhaps it would be better to take Sand with us, m'lady. He may be helpful in asking the right questions of her just as I can attest to the truth of what she says."

Dee raised an eyebrow and said, "You two are just bound and determined that we head back to the Flagon. Very well then. I just hope I don't smell too bad for Uncle Duncan to let us in."

So after a quick hug from Duncan, who couldn't tell what they smelled like anyway through the reek of ale emanating from his clothes, Dee shoveled down a bowl of rabbit stew and a slab of cornbread slathered with butter. She went to the women's bath and quickly washed; no time for a leisurely soak, she told Neeshka, who was still there. As she stepped out of the women's bath she collided with Casavir, who was coming out of the men's. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her, as she put her hand on his chest. He flushed furiously and looked at the floor and muttered, "Forgive me," before he ran to his room.

Cillian chuffed a bearish laugh as Dee blushed and drew her towel tighter. What was it about him? Normally she could stand in a towel before Nasher's whole court and not be embarrassed. Well maybe a little. Daeghun had taught her as early as she could remember that she shouldn't be ashamed of her body. It was the elven way. She recalled one time on the way back from Old Owl Well after a battle with bearbugs that she had knelt by a stream and stripped to the waist to wash the drying blood from her shirt. Khelgar, Grobnar, and Casavir had all objected loudly as they averted their eyes. Dee had snorted and said, "What? Ain't like 'tis anything you all haven't seen before, and I need to wash off the blood before it attracts bugs!" At least Elanee had backed her up by stripping down herself. She sighed. It had occurred to her later that night that perhaps Casavir hadn't seen a semi-nude woman before and she had apologized. If it wasn't for the gossip she had heard from Sir Grayson's current boy about Casavir and Ophala, she might still think that. "Poor Cas, I'll have to get a robe before I leave the city so that doesn't happen at the Keep," she thought.

She went to her room and knelt beside her trunk pulling out clothes then discarding them onto the bed and the floor, then she chose a pair of black silk leggings, a white shirt with a drawstring neckline that she tied loose and low, then the sapphire blue bodice which she laced tightly, bending forward as she did to let her breasts fall forward so it would give her the right lift. She broke out her paint box and carefully drew thick lines around her eyes with her dark blue kohl stick, painted her lips and cheeks crimson, and finished with a dusting of powder. She ran her brush through her hair, which was almost dry already. She missed her braid, but she couldn't believe how easy it was to care for short hair. She was about to put on her spectacles but thought better of it, not wanting to give the impression of having more money than she did. She turned and checked herself over in the mirror and cursed under her breath and muttered, "Oh yeah, they'll take me seriously dressed like this."

She washed off most of the paint, stripped and put on her leathers and her harvest cloak, and looked at herself again. Satisfied with the result, she grabbed a rucksack filled with her share of what they had taken from the bandits and from the Luskans at the Keep, took two of her swords she used the least, grabbed her Watch cloaks to turn in, and went to meet the others in the common room.

Neeshka met her with a mug of mead, which Dee drained without thinking. Neeshka watched her for a few minutes as she toyed with her tail then asked, "So Dee, how long are we going to be here before we leave for West Harbor?" The tiefling clearly didn't relish the thought of another long journey on horseback.

Dee thought about it and replied, "At least a couple of days, and I'm stopping off at the Keep to see how things are going on the way. Otherwise, I'd go with my original plan and take a ship to Highcliff and rent horses there." Dee sighed. "Horses...that's something else we should invest in with as much running back and forth as we'll probably be doin'. I'll talk to the hostler at the stable about it." She reflexively rubbed her backside which gave a twinge of protest at the thought of getting back in the saddle. "That'll be another sword to pay for them." Neeshka's sat there quietly still toying nervously with her tail and her real meaning seeped in to Dee's consciousness. Dee walked over, put an arm around her and said, "I can see how you don't want to leave your home to run around the swamp or be stuck at the ruin. I'll understand if you want to stay here, Neesh, but I'll miss you a lot."

Neeshka sighed. Dee had a way of getting her, and besides, she was one of the few friends the tiefling had ever had who liked her for herself and not for what she could do for her. "Leave you on your own? Someone has to keep the yokel from being taken advantage of. Besides, I'm dying to see Wyl Mossfield. And there's not much challenge here now that I'm the top thief in the city and retired." That was true enough, but Neeshka had also been warned by one of her old associates that killing Leldon had made her a target for every young thug in the city who wanted to make a name.

Dee hugged her and replied with a wink, "Don't worry, Neesh. I'll find you something exciting and only moderately dangerous to do at the Keep, I promise. Master Veedle even thinks there's an old sewer system from the ruins that were there before my ruin was there. Then there's that escape tunnel, and probably some others besides. There's a lot you can explore."

Dee had arranged to meet Sand and Casavir at the Watch headquarters. Casavir had gone directly to the temple after he had bathed and changed, and Sand had muttered something about getting the smell of horse out of his robes as she left him. Taking Duncan aside in the store room, Dee discussed giving over the running of the Phoenix Tail Inn to Sal. "You were my first choice, Uncle, but I figured it would take a crate of blast globes to get you to leave the Flagon."

Duncan laughed and replied, "Yer a good lass, Dee. Sal's wanted to get his own place for years, and with custom dropping off in the neighborhood, I was afraid I was gonna have t' let him go anyway. So this works out to both our advantage."

She pulled him into a bear hug and said softly, "I'm gonna miss you, Uncle, but I'll look in on you when I come back to the city."

He hugged her back. "You just take care of yourself, lass, and remember, you can say "no" to his Lordship." Like Shandra, he saw the bestowing of the Keep on his niece as a dubious honor. He reached down and scuffed Cillian's neck. "You keep an eye on her for me." The bear just chuffed at him as if to say, "duh." Duncan looked at her with his mouth open as if about to say something else. After a few minutes' hesitation, he asked, "Bishop goin' with you, lass?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't know. He's been civil enough of late. We haven't talked about it, but I assumed he was comin'. What's wrong, Uncle?"

He swallowed and said, "You and Bishop aren't together anymore. Lass, there's things I should probably tell you..." She darkened and was about to cut him off. Just then, they were startled by a loud crash then shouts coming from the kitchen. He cursed as he broke the hug and rushed from the storeroom with Dee and Cillian right behind him.

They came upon Glenn and Derry, two of Wolf's crew, coming to blows in the kitchen over who had knocked over a large stew pot. Dee grabbed one boy and Duncan grabbed the other and they pulled the two cursing boys apart. After a struggle to get them under control, Duncan growled, "I don't care who did it, just get it cleaned up now, both of you!" He let his prisoner go, then Dee did the same. He took Dee by the elbow and pulled her out of earshot then asked, "What about Wolf and his crew, lass? Glenn's not a bad cook and bar boy, and he works cheap. I could keep a few of them on...Molly and Callie have become good housemaids and are about old enough to wait tables, and I could keep all three on for less than I pay Sal now. But what of the rest if you're not here to employ 'em? I swear their numbers grow every week too."

Dee frowned guiltily and rubbed her pounding forehead as her headache had given birth to a litter of new yapping pain and replied, "Aye, Uncle, I brought them here so they're my responsibility. I could use 'em as pages at the Keep, and I've a mind to train Wolf as a ranger. For a lad born and raised in the city, he's very good at tracking and a natural with animals. Don't worry about it, Uncle. I'll talk to Wolf presently."

So before she left the tavern, she pulled Wolf aside into the storeroom and explained the situation. She knew quite a bit of his and the others' backgrounds only because she had asked, and he was young enough to trust her (more than a certain ranger and a certain paladin anyway) and comfortable enough with her to know she wasn't going to turn them over to the Watch, or worse. He was a practical lad, older than he looked, like most of his crew thanks to years of malnutrition. He had lived by his wits for several of his fifteen years after his parents had been killed in the war and he was sent to an orphanage that was little more than a workhouse, from which he had led an escape a scant year later. He had told her how he had taken over the running of his crew for the past two years after the previous leader had the misfortune to pick the wrong house to burgle and the wrong chest to open, leaving him and two others of the crew a greasy ash spot on the floor. He also knew an opportunity when he saw one. He shrugged and said, "Crossroads Keep? Sounds posh, miss. Pages? Mayhap some of us could even be squires some day! When do we leave?"

She grinned at him and said, "Not for a few days probably." She looked at the state of his tattered clothes and said, "On the morrow I want you to take your crew with Neeshka to buy some warmer clothes, a cloak, and a pair of sturdy shoes each." As he left she sighed and thought, "Yeah, I'm gonna have to sell another sword for sure," and ran back to her room to get one.

* * *

Casavir sat uncomfortably in Prior Hlam's office, his arms folded tightly over his chest as if he could physically hold his emotions inside. He kept his blue eyes trained down at the floor. "Can you see my dilemma, Prior? I feel our Lord has given me the quest to help stop the King of Shadows and fight at her side. Yet I can't control my feelings for her. I find myself rushing to her side in battle to protect her. I pray for strength, but the feelings have gotten stronger. I despise myself for my weakness."

The Prior toyed with his small, neat mustache as he listened. He put an arm around Casavir's shoulder and said, "You are a healthy young man. It is natural for you to have carnal urges. Have you spoken to her, and does she return your feelings?"

He shook his head silently. The Prior sighed and said, "Are you afraid of being rejected?"

Casavir looked up and met the Prior's eyes and nodded in assent. He sat there rubbing his upper arms for several minutes until he said, "I am encouraged by changes I have seen in her since her vigil here. I truly feel our Lord touched her heart that night, Prior. Since then she tries to limit her cursing, I don't think she's been in one tavern brawl, and she has curtailed her consumption of strong drink. She actually blushed when I came upon her leaving the bath this evening. However, she has just ended an affair, and it would be too soon to approach her. I also don't think she's interested in anything more than a tryst."

Prior Hlam shrugged and said, Unless you've taken a vow of celibacy, my suggestion would be to arrange a session with one of your sisters here at the temple for mutual release. You know it is allowed." He coughed then added, "Moreover, you could also relieve the tension manually. Our Lord understands, Casavir, and what's more, let me be clear that it is not a sin, despite what you may have been told." He watched the young paladin, wondering what his home life had been like before he was sent to the temple. A domineering, prudish parent or other authority figure? He knew human nature well enough to know that was usually the root of such deep emotional constipation.

Casavir shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm afraid that would only inflame my passions further, Prior. I would still think of her whether I was with another woman, which would not be fair to either of them or..." He flushed and was silent for a moment, toying with his holy symbol, then added, "You know how things went last time I allowed myself a tryst. I can't see the good in having such feelings. They only serve to distract me from my devotion to Tyr."

The Prior nodded sadly and reached into a drawer, pulled out a small cloth bag, and handed it to Casavir, who opened the bag and withdrew a small ebony scourge with half a dozen knotted leather thongs. "Very well then. First of all, I admonish you to forgive yourself for your youthful indiscretion. Our Lord has, and he would not want you to dwell upon the past. Take this. Use this no more than thrice a tenday and give yourself no more than ten lashes. You can serve our Lord best if you're not too sore to raise your sword arm. I expect you to see me or Judge Oleff when you're in the city so you may be counseled further. He's taken an interest in your captain. However my son, I would like you to meditate upon how joining your heart to the right person can strengthen rather than weaken your faith."

He stood and said softly, "Thank you, Prior. I will do as you advise."

He walked Casavir to the door, where Dee, Shandra, and Sand were waiting for him. The Prior greeted Dee warmly, taking her hand and kissing her cheek then extracting a promise from her that she would be at the morning service, and reassuring her with a chuckle that in his opinion she wasn't committing spiritual adultery on Meilikki. He watched as they walked away and thought grimly that if he hadn't given the warning, the young paladin would likely scourge himself every night until he was raw. He resolved to speak to Judge Oleff and ask him to add Casavir and the young captain to his daily prayer list.

Dee seemed disheartened as they walked to the Watch headquarters. After a few silent minutes and an exchange of glances among her companions, Dee finally blurted out, "I couldn't find one armorer, smith, or merchant willing to come with us. Repko said he could part with one of his apprentices, but I got the feeling the lad wasn't his smartest one. Maybe I should ask Deekin."

Shandra replied matter-of-factly, "Mayhap you should ask Deekin. I think he would jump at the chance to get a real shop with a roof and four walls to keep out the weather, even if it is at a decrepit shithole of a Keep."

Sand sniffed indignantly with a toss of his hair thrown in for emphasis, "I still cannot believe that a kobold was able to get a stall in the Merchant Quarter when I could not. Where is the justice, I ask you."

Dee put an arm around him and said, "You're far too clever of a mage to waste your time running a shop, Sand. And I need you anyway at the Keep to go through the library before Aldanon gets there and he misplaces half the books."

Shandra smiled brightly as Casavir opened the door for them and they walked in. She exclaimed, "I know who to ask! Let's talk to Edario in Highcliff! He's been complaining for years about feeling like he was wasting his talents there."

Dee returned a relieved grin and said, "Couldn't hurt since we're passing through there anyway, and that reminds me of a smith we met at Fort Locke too. I can't recall his name, Jake? Jacoby?, Khel would remember, something like that. Now that I think about it, he complained of the same thing, not enough work for him even at a fort. Couldn't hurt to ask or see if any of the refugees there want to farm at the Keep as well!" She smiled happily, though inwardly she cautioned herself not to get her hopes up.

Cormick hauled himself heavily to his feet to greet them. He had lost quite a bit of weight, his eyes were ringed with dark shadows, and was still too pale for Dee's liking, more like a shaky calf than the bull of a man he had been. She was happy he was well enough to return to work considering he had had a smoking hole in his gut. She gave him a big hug, and after an exchange of small talk about his health and the Keep and whether she might make it to West Harbor before the harvest faire, Dee said, "Well, where's this mysterious prisoner of yours?"

Cormick scratched his head and said warily, "Yeah, about her, Dee. Zhjaeve's staying in the infirmary, and I sent Jenks to run and get Aldanon when I saw you comin' so he could explain the situation, so we should wait for him to get here. Oh, one more thing. You need to leave your swords in my office until he's explained, and the bear too."

Dee and her companions looked at each other in surprise, not sure how to take that. "If you say so, Cormick. Zhjaeve? What kind of name is that?" she thought aloud as she removed her sword belt and laid it on his desk. There was something familiar about the sound of it, but try as she might, she couldn't place it.

* * *

Once Dee had thought better of it, she had assigned Shandra and Neeshka both the task the next day of clothing the half dozen of Wolf's urchins who were willing (and eager) to go to the Keep, fearing that Neeshka would give in to adolescent whining to buy stylish rather than functional clothing and shoes. Neeshka knew better though, having once been a cold, hungry, shoeless urchin herself. Dee also sent her new "ally" Zhjaeve along with them for the same reason--those sandals had to go! She suspected it was much warmer on the Astral plane judging from how she dressed. Poor woman had probably never seen snow before.

She still wasn't sure what to make of the woman behind the veil. Aldanon had launched into a lengthy explanation about rocks being split in two and before he could thoroughly confuse her, Dee had stopped him and said, "Tis like elves--there are drow, and copper, and moon, and gold elves, but my foster father says they were once one people." Sand sniffed and Aldanon thought that wasn't quite the right analogy, but it was clear enough for Dee. Over everyone's, even Bishop's objections (but not Cillian's, who declared he would allow her to share their den), she asked the githzerai to stay in her room until they were ready to leave so she could get to know her better. "Casavir said she was speaking the truth. I might even let filthy orcs join up with us at this point if they can help us defeat the King of Shadows."

Dee took the opportunity to ask Casavir what he thought of her as they walked to the morning service at the temple. "You don't think she's leading us into an ambush like Bishop says, do you? Aldanon admitted he didn't know much about githzerai, and it could be they're as fanatical about getting back my shards as the githyanki."

Casavir shook his head and replied, "No, not at all. Even that githyanki who had Shandra abducted was very concerned about the King of Shadows' threat not only to us here, but also to them on their plane. It stands to reason that the githzerai would also be aware of the threat and want to counter it."

"Thanks, my friend, that puts my mind at ease, and I hope she doesn't mind riding a horse, because I figure I'll have plenty of time to get to know her if I take her to West Harbor." Dee smiled and patted his back, which made him wince. "What did you do, practice too hard this morning?" she inquired, frowning with worry.

He recoiled from her touch and flushed scarlet. "It is nothing to concern yourself with, m'lady."

Dee diplomatically changed the subject, wondering why he was so touchy. "I wonder if Deekin will take me up on the offer. He seemed pretty excited last night, but he's had time to think better of it. I made a list of what we need still for the Keep, which I have to tell you leaves me feeling overwhelmed. Later can you go over my list and see if I forgot anything? Oh, and remind me to remind Qara to get anything she thinks she's going to need just in case the princess decides to come to the Keep. If I know her, she'll feign indifference until the last minute when the wagons are pulling away, but I suspect she doesn't want to be alone with her former classmates no matter how powerful she thinks she is."

She purchased fried dough bites sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar from a stall for them to eat on the way and chattered on about anything she could think of, giving him a sidelong glance from time to time to see if she had gotten him to relax. She drew up sharply as they passed one of her favorite shops and gasped with an audible "Oooh," as she saw a nightgown made of white silk trimmed with silver cording and lace in hanging the window, muttering, "And I'll just bet she has that in my size too for a change."

Dee showed remarkable restraint and didn't go into the shop until after the service on the way back, and even then, they had walked half a block past the shop before she remembered she wanted to buy a robe and ran back, glad to have an excuse.

Casavir rolled his eyes heavenward but waited patiently outside until she returned, thinking he would never understand women's fascination with shopping. "Was it available in your size then?" he asked as she came out, trying not to imagine her wearing it.

She shrugged and looked away as she said, "Yeah, but 'twas a bit more than I care to spend right now, and 'tis not like I need anything like that anyway when we're going to be spendin' the next few tendays traveling. And with winter comin' on, 'tis not practical either. I did find a bargain on the robe I went in for though." It was such a good excuse she almost believed it too. She opened her bag and held up a plain dove gray flannel robe. "Now you need not fear the bath, my dear paladin." She put it away and missed his momentary disappointed look.

He glanced back down the street and said, "That reminds me that I too need some socks and small clothes. Would you excuse me?"

"I'll go with you. I don't mind waiting while you shop," she said helpfully.

He flushed again and said tersely, "That's quite all right. I will meet you at the tavern." She watched him walk away quickly as if he was being chased by fiends. She turned to Cillian and asked, "Did I offend or embarrass him?" She sighed and headed over to Deekin's shop to see if he had come to his senses and changed his mind.

Casavir looked back over his shoulder to see if she was out of sight then just as quickly strode back to the shop, looked around to make sure no one he knew was about, and stepped inside. He walked briskly to the shopkeeper and said, "The tall blond woman who was just in--I would like to purchase...what she was looking at." He couldn't even bring himself to say the word "nightgown." Flushing and feeling foolish as he remembered his lie, he paid, snatched the package from the clerk, and left the shop at a run to the safety of a nearby men's clothing merchant.

Now that it was done he saw the problem in giving it to her. He bought himself a dozen pairs of thick wool socks and as many pairs of small clothes as well as a sturdy black wool jerkin, already regretting his impulsive purchase. But he couldn't return it. What if the clerk said something about it next time Dee was in the city? Yet he could not give it to her either. At the time, he was simply touched by the sacrifice she was making for the sake of her duty, but as the impulse faded away, he realized to his chagrin what such a gift would suggest. Seeing no other solution and feeling like an utter coward, he shoved the package into the bottom of his rucksack when he got back to the tavern, pulled it back out, then shoved it away again.

But that evening as he brooded over his foolishness, it occurred to him that she might change her mind and go back to the shop to buy it after all, and then he would be found out. He took out the package a final time and walked to her room, rapping hesitantly on her door.

Dee answered the door with Cillian on her heels, a quill in one hand and a long list in the other wearing the flannel robe, open, over her old nightshirt that she had brought with her from West Harbor. She gave him a puzzled look and said, "Oh good, I was thinkin' of bringin' this down to your room and here you are. Why are you here? I mean...not that I'm not happy to see you. Is something wrong?"

He thrust the package at her flushing crimson and stammered, "I...you..." He swallowed then summoned his courage. "I felt bad that you had to deny yourself that gown..." He took another breath and continued, "When the one you're wearing is worn and patched, so I...please don't think me forward m'lady." Feeling emboldened, he continued as she took the package and opened it and gasped. "I didn't think about what such a gift would suggest."

She held it up and chuckled then said, "Cas, I trust you more than anyone not to have ulterior motives, well anyone but Grobby mayhap. Thanks, and I'll take it on one condition."

He was staring studiously at a knot at the floorboard. "What is it, m'lady?"

"My name is Dee, and I'd like you to use it. M'lady is so formal, and we're friends, are we not? Besides, folks in West Harbor will think I'm puttin' on airs if they hear you call me that."

He smiled despite his discomfort and said, "I can do that, m...Dee. Let me take that list, and I'll return it on the morrow."

He turned and walked to his room, picking up speed once he was out of sight and closing and barring the door. Then he knelt next to his bed and said his evening prayers. When he was finished, he stripped to the waist and withdrew the small bag holding the scourge from his rucksack and hoped that ten strokes would be sufficient.