Fire and Water

by MorwennaTheWicked

NWN2 & MotB. You know the story. Dee is a ranger sent by her foster father on a quick errand to Neverwinter. She learns the difference between a bad man and a good man then meets someone who isn't a man at all as she tries to save her life and her soul.

24. The Ties That Bind

Chapter 24 The Ties That Bind

Warning, rated 'M' for ranger on paladin smut (no, not that ranger).

Usual Disclaimers: Most of the characters belong to Obsidian, Hasbro and a lot of other people and not me except for the occasional NPC and a bear-lovin' ranger.

They went to three tailor shops before they found an gnomish tailor equipped with some sort of gnomish sewing device who promised, as she stretched on her toes on a step ladder to measure Casavir, to have a new forest green wool doublet with silver piping ready for him the next morning (though for twice the cost for the rush). Dee looked through the stock she had on hand and the sketches of the latest styles, gasped and held one up to him. "Ooh Cas, I'd love to see you in some of these new Waterdhavian hose to show off your legs."

Casavir looked at the sketch then at her aghast. "Those are so tight they were almost indecent, and the cod piece puts so much emphasis...it's indecent for certain! I might as well wear nothing at all as walk around in those!"

She could see he was adamant though she liked the idea of seeing him walking around in nothing, so she relented and suggested some trewes in dark blue and russet. "No more gray for you, at least not for awhile, my dear" she declared firmly, grinning and kissing him on the cheek.

He scowled at her good-natured teasing but kissed her back, and she could see by his expression she touched on a sore spot. "Gray is a very practical color. It goes with everything. My aunt was once given an entire bolt of gray fustian by a woman of her acquaintance and managed to stretch it far enough to make herself a new gown and two sets of tunics and trewes for me a year for two years. All she had to buy was some thread, laces and ribbon. After awhile some of her acquaintances took to calling us 'The Grays,' but she just laughed and agreed we were rather ridiculous. After that she bought gray fustian as a point of pride. I suppose I grew accustomed to the color over time."

Dee was impressed by the image of his aunt, living in genteel poverty on a small stipend. Of course this was nothing like the poverty endured by the poorer classes―poverty for her class meant she could only afford to keep one, or at the most two servants and they ate meat only at supper. She lived on the margins and was at the mercy of the not always benevolent generosity of those of her social circle for invitations to their events. The dubious gift of a bolt of fustian, a tradesman's cloth, attested to that. Nonetheless, she took on the burden of a young boy when she might have sent him to an orphanage with a clear conscience. Dee thought that perhaps that came from being at an age when she realized she was most likely to remain a spinster and have no child of her own. She said quietly, "Your aunt sounds like she was a very resourceful woman, and I wish I could have met her. I would like to go with you to her grave while we're here. Pity there's no flowers to be had."

He gave her a confused glance as he perused some linen shirts. "Her grave? Why would you think she was dead?"

Dee blinked and replied with an embarrassed shrug. "Well, you said she was gone..."

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "I can see why you became confused. She's very much alive, or was in the last letter I got from her. She was always very frugal and invested part of her allowance in a merchant company. She turned quite a tidy profit, so she kept investing half and saving the rest. Then she decided after I went off to college to use her savings to embark upon a tour of Cormyr with an old friend of hers. They fell in love with the canals of Marsember and found a townhouse to let there. She writes to me in care of the temple and always sends me some socks she knitted each Midwinter festival. I wrote to her when I was about to leave the city." He shrugged defensively. "I didn't want to vanish without a word and make her worry more than I know she has, though I did not tell her my reasons for leaving, just that I didn't know when I could write her again. She was frantic enough when she received news of the war. I wrote to her when we returned from Old Owl Well last year. Perhaps some day, when all this is over, we can travel there and you may meet her."

She beamed at him and kissed his cheek. "Oh, I would like that! A honeymoon trip?" She blushed that she was planning a honeymoon already and added, "If we marry, that is. Volo says the city is built on islands with bridges and the canals to connect them. Marsember's one of the places I had hoped to see before..." She frowned and shook off the thought. "Mayhap some day we can go there together when all this is finished."

He took her in his arms and gazed earnestly into her eyes. "If it's Tyr's will, I would like that very much."

After a few moments at another shop spent teasing him while perusing an assortment of small clothes and holding them up for his approval (she set aside to purchase the ones that evoked the best response―a blush, a grin, and the ones that caused him to flush crimson and hide his face in his hands but nod 'yes' for certain) she asked, "And your grandfather? Have you been reconciled to him?"

He sighed sadly. "No, nor do I expect to. My aunt used to tell me he wasn't always such a difficult man. He took his wife's death giving birth to my father hard, and it made him bitter. He sent a few letters after my aunt informed him that I made good marks in school despite, as he put it, my vulgar mother, but he was displeased that I chose to study canon law rather than mercantile law. He had a mind to bring me into his business, you see. I also suspect he is without faith, for he voiced his utter contempt towards the gods when I wrote I was considering entering the clergy. Since Tyr called me as his paladin I've heard little from him other than a demand for repayment of the cost of my education, which doesn't bother me as much as you might suppose. He's always been a stranger. I am grateful for what he's done for me, but I'm convinced there was a good reason why my father left his house without a backward glance and even abandoned his surname."

Dee drew him into a hug and kissed his cheek." I understand better than you might think. From what I've been told, there was bad blood between my mother and her parents, especially her father, bad enough that she told folks they were dead long before they were. Well, 'tis his loss that he doesn't know what a wonderful man his grandson has become."

He frowned and grunted in reply and changed the subject. "You're going to be late for your luncheon, my lady. I'll see you tonight." He kissed her forehead and took their purchases to return to the Flagon and ask Duncan, Sand, and Khelgar to be witnesses while she went to meet Shandra waiting for her with a nervous Maisie Jons at the Mask.

Ophala was very helpful with advice for starting the festhall. In addition, she introduced a couple of young entertainers she had just let go because they hadn't turned out to be up to the standards of her festhall, but whose talents would be adequate for an establishment in the country with soldiers and the odd merchant as clientèle. They thanked her and left for Lord Tavorick's estate, where wheedling the painting of Esmerelle out of the Lord over more wine was easier than Dee imagined. She didn't even have to pay him for it once he listened sympathetically to her story of losing her mother so young (she also was relieved to learn he was only an admirer of Esmerelle's beauty and not yet another lover). Of course it helped that Shandra and Maisie Jons had dressed appropriately for the occasion (Dee wondered how they breathed without spilling out of their bodices) and entertained the ancient lord by exchanging a few friendly kisses.

The afternoon passed quickly into a cold, wet Hammer evening. Everyone but Khelgar was full of questions that night, mostly about why they weren't simply getting married ('we want to be sure' wasn't a good enough answer), but Khelgar explained that handfasting was indeed an old Dwarven custom and very practical if the couple thought better of things before the year was out. Sand countered dryly that it was actually an Elven custom grown out of living a very long life with the same person and that the Dwarves then the humans had adapted the practice. Dee chuckled at their good-natured bickering as she walked away.

Maisie Jons was interviewing prospects who stood out from the usual Flagon crowd. She also agreed to hire a few street urchins that had turned up at the Flagon, having heard either that Duncan was kind and would feed them and let them sleep on a pallet in the attic in exchange for work, or that he was an easy mark. The three of Wolf's pack he had hired kept the latter away, but the former had stayed glad for a dry place to sleep and a warm bowl of food. Dee agreed not only to hire one boy, but to liberate his sisters, aged six and nine, from an orphanage he had run away from. "I'll find them somethin' to do at the Keep," she said softly. Dee and Casavir sat at the next table and listened to the interviews while they ate supper, and she interrupted to ask the odd question of the 'entertainers' and to insist that that they be of the age of consent no matter how much experience they had or how eager they were.

Afterwards they snuggled before the fire talking quietly and leaning back against Cillian, who was snoozing on the floor, until it was time to go to bed. Casavir walked them to her room, looked around, swept her into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. He caressed her cheek and whispered, "Until tomorrow, my lady. Dee, I...want you to know I'm not doing this just so I can lie with you."

She chuckled lightly and put her arms around his neck. "You forget, you don't have to do this to lie with me, my dear. But I'll not invite you into my bed tonight as much as I liked the feeling of you lying beside me. I'll not have you in my bed again until you see it as your bed too and you come to it of your own free will." She gave him a final kiss and shut the door. She sighed and leaned against it as Cillian cocked his head at her then chuffed and stretched out on the floor. Casavir stood in the hallway watching her door for a few minutes as if he hoped that she might change her mind before he went to his own room.

The ceremony was held the next morning immediately after the temple's regular service and was over so quickly Dee stood there stunned thinking, "That was it?" Dee had been only vaguely aware of the Judge's words as he took a silken cord, wrapped it loosely around their right wrists, and tied it in a knot, though she could feel herself grinning at Casavir like an idiot try as she might to force a serious expression. Their friends stood in a circle around them with Cillian beside her. They took turns adding a knot and bore witness as the congregation that hadn't filtered out after the service looked on. Afterwards they accepted congratulations from the Prior and Sir Grayson, their companions, and several perfect strangers.

They decided to spend part of the afternoon looking for sculptures that his father had made as well as the statue of Sune that Esmerelle had posed for. Dee had surmised correctly that the city archives might yield clues to their locations. Casavir knew the location of all his father's sculptures in the Tyrran temple graveyard as well as a statue of Torm at his temple, and he fought back tears as he looked on the face of his mother in the statue of Chantea his mother had posed for. He nodded at the swollen belly. "She was carrying me when he made this one." It wasn't hard to find the statue in the temple of Sune. What was surprising was the maker's mark―Casavir's father's―on the base of the statue. Casavir immediately knelt down and ran his hand over it reverently. "That's when he was still going by Arik Stonecarver before he changed it to Carver."

Dee had been gazing into the face of the statue for a few moments until she saw him and knelt beside him. She looked from the mark to his face. "This is getting weird, Cas."

He looked at the statue and the date then grinned at Dee. "I remember this one now! I was only about four or five, but I remember I was allowed to come with my family to the city for the first time instead of staying with my grandparents in the village. I remember her now. She was very beautiful even to my young eyes, and she sang a song while my father sketched her that gave me the shivers. That must have been about four years before you were born. But it's not so strange that she modeled for him when you consider she modeled for other artists and we know they were related."

Dee shivered. "Yes, mayhap they were closer than distant cousins. I really hope our children don't have tails."

They stood and gazed at the statue until Casavir broke the silence with a soft sigh. "There's a meeting of my order this afternoon I must attend. Let me walk you two back to the Flagon, and I'll see you this evening."

They took a leisurely walk back to the Flagon. She turned to him outside the door and he smiled, murmured "My lady," and gave her a lingering kiss.

She laughed and stepped back. "You're going to be late! I'll take another one of those before you go though to last me until tonight." She stretched up and returned kiss.

Suddenly they heard a loud, coarse laugh and a woman's voice behind them. "Well again, Casavir! Is that really you? Is it possible you've grown taller still? And gods, you've taken up with boys now? With a bear? What are you now, circus performers?"

They spun and Dee scowled at a small, wasted-looking woman wearing too much paint in a faded low cut red gown with no chemise underneath and a skirt that was split to expose her pantaloons. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head and hung in messy curls. Dee didn't need confirmation from Casavir to know who she was, and she could tell from the woman's thin frame, yellow skin despite the heavy coating of powder, sunken eyes, and nervous twitch that she spent most of her coin on cheap wine and worse. Most likely intoxicants such as 'dragon's milk,' a black tarry resin imported from Sembia. She had never even heard of such things in West Harbor but had learned from her time on the Watch that it was a popular, cheap intoxicant in the Docks District where it was smoked in secret dens.

Casavir replied with cool civility, "Hulda. Well again. I hardly know you, you are so changed."

She replied with a sneer, "It's Opal, Casavir, not Hulda. But you never could get that right. Do you mistake this boy's name too?"

He glared at her. "I won't allow you to mock her, and I have nothing to discuss with you!" Cillian growled because the other male was growling. He didn't like the way the small female smelled either.

Dee grabbed Casavir's hand and laid the other on Cillian's head to calm them. She had held her tongue at first at the implied insult, but then she thought better of it as she realized how deep the insult truly went. "I'm no boy, woman, but if I were, what difference would it make to you or anyone if he did have feelings for a man? What business is it of yours?"

She laughed rudely as she looked Dee over, hands on her hips. "At least she has spirit to make up for her lack of a woman's shape. Does he last any longer with you than he did when I was with him, honey? You should be thankful I taught him a few tricks."

Dee was about to reply that she was sure the only tricks the wench knew involved donkeys when Casavir snarled, "You will leave my lady out of this. I have nothing to say to you, Hulda, and I am certain you can have nothing to say to me. I suppose your only motive for approaching me is that you need coin..."

The woman's dark rimmed eyes lit up greedily, but she composed herself and interrupted, "I've no business with you at all, Casavir, although I suppose you do owe me something for all you cost me. I'm here to speak to someone inside about a position."

Dee answered with a voice dripping with sweet venom. "Oh my. Tymora certainly isn't watching over you today my dear Hulda, or is it Ophala?" She gestured at the front entrance of the Flagon. "Not only is this my uncle's tavern, but the woman hiring for the festhall? It's at my...our Keep, and I won't have anyone employed there with such an unsavory past as you." Casavir started to object, and she stopped him with a finger to his lips. "You don't have to say anything, love. I'm just laying out the facts to Opal." She turned her attention back to the woman whose face was blotchy red with barely controlled fury. "He's told me all about what you did to him. Good day."

Cillian had been watching the exchange, confused as to why the females were fighting over the male, but the two leggeds were difficult for him to understand at the best of times and often did things contrary to nature. He raised up on his hind legs to support Dee though and roared as the woman stalked off cursing them both loudly.

Casavir was shaking from the effort of restraining himself, his hands at his side balled into fists and his knuckles white. Dee murmured "settle down, love" to Cillian to calm him, then wrapped Casavir up in a bear hug and murmured, "I'm so sorry, love." He took her face in his hands peering into her eyes then held her tightly for a few minutes until Dee kissed him softly and whispered, "You'll be late to your meeting, love. I'll be waiting here for you."

He smiled wryly with the knowledge that he had gained the same standing in her heart as her bear. He murmured "That's three." He gave her three soft kisses in return, then released her and walked away as she stared at him puzzled at what that meant.

Dee watched him until he was out of sight then quickly took Cillian to her room. She strode into the tavern's kitchen, snatched an apron off the shelf and started rummaging around. Duncan heard the noise and ambled in, and he leaned against the door and watched her opening various bins and containers with a bemused expression. "Tell me what're ye lookin' for before you tear up my kitchen, lass."

Dee glanced over at him. "Can you help me, Uncle? I want to make Cas one of Rhetta's tarts before he gets back, and I don't have but a couple of hours."

He raised an eyebrow as he looked over her shoulder at the piece of parchment lying on the table carefully written in a florid script. "Not Rhetta's famous apple tart? Mind if I copy this out, lass?" He didn't wait for her to answer as he found a quill and the back of a receipt to jot it down on.

She muttered distractedly as she pulled out a rolling pin then poured flour into a bowl, "I'm sure she won't mind... so what's a cardamom? What if the apples aren't tart? Do you have any fresh butter or fine flour?"

He chuckled gleefully and rubbed his hands together. "Cardamom! So that's her secret! You can send the boy out for that, but he'll likely have to go to the Merchant Quarter for the cardamom, and 'tis not a cheap spice. We can busy ourselves with cuttin' up apples until he returns."

When Casavir opened the door, the smell of fresh baked apple tart rolled over him like a wave as Duncan and his kitchen boy had made enough tarts to serve that night in the tavern as well. Shandra poked her head into the kitchen and hissed, "Dee! He's back!" and Dee quickly stepped out of the kitchen, flour streaked across her cheek and into her hair and apple juice staining her apron and her sleeves. Her eyes lit up when she saw him there; a part of her was afraid he would retreat to Old Owl Well again. She strode over and took his hands in hers. "I thought we might eat in my room tonight. There's salmon fillets, roasted potatoes and squash, winter salad, and apple tart!"

He set the tray on the table as she put away her spectacles then stood beside it politely, waiting for her to sit. She kicked off her boots, pulled off the apron, and gestured at the seat. "Go ahead, I won't be but a minute," She sighed after she unlaced her bodice and hung it on a peg. "That is such a relief to get that thing off!"

Casavir removed his doublet and draped it over the back of the chair then sat at the table and tried a bite of the salmon. She sat beside him at the small table as Cillian chuffed at his bonded companion and their strange mating rituals. Didn't her male know he was supposed to bring her food? She sat with her chin in her hands and watched Casavir eat until he had taken several bites of everything. He wiped the flour off her cheek with his thumb and grinned. "It's very good, my lady. Aren't you eating though?"

"Me? Oh! I ate some apple while we were cuttin' them up. I guess I was so busy I forgot to get something for myself." She blushed as he shook his head at her and chuckled.

He gestured at the tray. "There's plenty enough here for both of us." He speared a piece of fish and held the fork to her lips, and she took it back and fed him a bite of potatoes. After that they took turns passing the fork back and forth feeding one another, taking drinks from a goblet of water, and exchanging kisses in between bites until there was nothing left but the tart. He offered her the first bite.

She smiled at him and fed him a bite, then took another and watching him watching her, dribbled it down the front of her shirt. She looked down and gasped, "Oh no, I should wash this before it stains." She stood and pulled the shirt over her head leaving wearing only her camisole and scrubbed it in the basin with some of Duncan's harsh lye soap while Casavir ate a healthy portion of the tart and watched her and laughed.

She stuck her tongue out at him as she rinsed it though it lightened her heart to hear him laugh so much. "It's cotton. Comes from somewhere in the east and costs almost as much as silk! Sure is sturdy though, and soft..." She wrung it out and hung it over the back of her chair.

He chuckled at her again. "And now you have nowhere to sit. Allow me." He smirked and held out his hand to her and pulled her onto his lap. He took in her strong, lithe body as he put an arm around her and caressed her arm lightly. "You are slender, and truly between the smithing and the sword training your arms are more developed than those of many men, but you certainly don't look anything like a boy."

She shrugged and blushed. "Yeah, and I ain't about to give up the smithin' either. It helps me think, and it helps me not think too. When all this is over, I should like to find a place in the country where I can set up a forge and you have access to rock."

He caressed her cheek. "Nor should you give up your smithing. I would like that." He took her chin in his hand. You have the prettiest smile, my lady, and you glow like the dawn when you blush, have I told you that?"

That provoked a deeper blush. "No you haven't, and I can't believe how good it feels to hear you say it. I never thought I was the sort of woman who needed to hear things like that, or cared to even. My turn then. I love that way you set your jaw when you're very determined about something, and I could gaze into your beautiful blue eyes all night."

She leaned in, put her arms around him and nuzzled his neck, taking in his scent. He slid his right hand behind her head to pull her close and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss and fought the urge to strip off his shirt as much as she wanted to run her fingers through the dark mat of hair on his chest. Instead she let him lead and followed at his pace. As he kissed her neck and throat his fingers found the edge of her camisole and stroked the smooth exposed skin of her taut belly. She gasped as he reached higher and gave her nipple a hard pinch.

"Did I hurt you?" He drew back and looked at her in alarm.

She smiled, shook her head, and pulled apart the laces at the throat of his shirt. She reached in, running her fingers across his chest then pinched him lightly too. Hulda apparently hadn't taken his pleasure into account when they were together for all she thought she had taught him. She forced thoughts of the wench from her mind and kissed him along his jaw then across his neck to his throat.

He shivered and reached back under her camisole. They kissed and explored each other for some time until she slid her hand up his thigh then stroked the bulge straining through his trewes. He gasped and pulled back, and she quickly took her hand away. He met her eyes again. "My lady...I fear I shall be undone if we don't stop."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Do you want to stop? Is this too soon?"

He looked perplexed. "Yes...No...I want to make love to you...but shouldn't we wait? Perhaps it is too soon."

She kissed his neck and could almost taste his fear. "We have time, Cas. We're going to be a few days on the road tomorrow though. We'll have a few days at the Keep until we leave for Arvahn too. We have a year and a day, but I hope we're not going to wait that long."

He took her hand and kissed it. "A year and a day...It does seem a very long time."

She snuggled against him. "We don't have to wait the time out. We could decide marry before then, or we might think better of it and go our separate ways."

He looked stricken at the thought of separating from her. "Most likely we will marry. In fact, we could go back to the temple in the morning."

She smiled. "We don't have to be married just to make love. Besides, I want you to be sure of the good of joinin' your heart with another. I would want to have it at the next harvest fair in West Harbor. I want Daeghun there, and Elanee, and Neeshka too. She would be so hurt if she missed it." She stood and stretched and he swallowed hard as he watched her. "We don't have to make love tonight, but I would like to sleep beside you, unless you think that's too much temptation for you. And if it is, then here's a kiss good night, and I'll see you on the morrow. I'm going to get into my nightgown, and you can do what you will." She kissed him then stepped behind the screen that served as a dressing area and pulled off her socks and leggings then wiggled out of her small clothes.

He sat there watching her shadow through the screen and made his decision. He stood and said, "Those small clothes you purchased yesterday...the ones with the ruffles?"

She paused and replied with a murmured "Hmmm? What about them?" even as she recalled his reaction when she showed them to him. She could hear him moving, then heard his boot drop onto the floor, and smiled as it was followed by its mate. She knelt and fished them out of her pack. She heard rustling movements, his quick footsteps across the floor then heard the bed creak under his weight.

He spoke so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "I'd love to see you in them. Tonight, if you will."

She pulled them on, waited a heartbeat, and stepped out from behind the screen. She wasn't at all surprised that he had the covers pulled up to his neck, and she suspected he was still wearing his small clothes. He gasped as he saw her, and she felt herself blushing again from head to toe at the hungry way he looked at her. She stood there for a moment with her arms folded behind her head then walked over to him slowly, swaying slightly in the way she had seen the women at the Mask do. She stopped next to the bed and turned around and shimmied, shaking the ruffles at him.

He laughed and pulled the bedding aside for her, taking care to keep himself covered. She slipped in beside him and lay her hand on his chest. He sat up and looked into her eyes. "I would like it if you pose for me some day." He pulled back the covers and gazed at her body for so long she blushed again as he ran his hand over her from her thigh to her shoulder. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, then worked his way down her neck and across her chest. He removed her small clothes and paused to gaze at her again. She smiled at him and pulled back the blanket down slowly and ran her hand across his chest and followed the line of fine dark hair down his rippled belly.

But he seized her hand and stopped her. "Please, my lady. I don't know if I can bear your touch just yet."

She relented and whispered, 'Very well love, for now."

He held her against him nuzzling her cheek and her neck and murmured, "You were going to tell me about your dreams, you know the ones you said you had to whisper to me?"

She bit his earlobe and said softly, "Yes...Let's see...at first you..." She whispered in his ear and he chuckled and murmured "I did?" and caressed her back down to her hip. She nodded and continued whispering as she stroked his chest and finished with, "And here's the part that's probably a little bit illegal..."

He gasped as she whispered and flushed crimson but replied, "Nothing that is done between consenting adults in their private chamber should be illegal, but I'll work up to that one. For now...I think I'll try to make your other dreams come true."

She squealed and hugged him, lay back and let him explore her body at his own slow pace with his hands, his tongue, and his teeth, though he was driving her mad with anticipation. He was good and giving, and knew much more than she expected, needing no guidance from her once he got over his initial shyness. The whole tavern must have heard her as she cried out, but she didn't care as the spasms of pleasure washed over her.

He kissed her inner thigh, smiled up at her and asked with mock formality, "Did that meet with your approval, my lady?" He gave her a few more kisses there and a little nip that she was sure was going to leave a mark. He kissed his way back up her body and took her in his arms.

She stroked his leg with her foot and wrapped the other leg around his waist and kissed him. "Yes, that was delightful. But I'm afraid you're being neglected. Allow me to return the favor."

He answered by pushing into her and giving her a quick, deep thrust that made her gasp. "Sorry, my lady. I couldn't wait any longer." Bracing himself against the foot board as she held on for the ride, he thrust vigorously, holding on to her tightly and searching her eyes the whole time. He finished a few minutes later with a last shudder and a loud groan and collapsed on top of her for a moment, laying his forehead against hers.

He kissed her and was about to say something, and she sensed another apology forming. She cut him off with another kiss and whispered, "You've nothing to apologize for, Cas. It's been years since you've been with a woman, so that's to be expected. The next time it'll be longer." She kissed him along his strong jaw and down his neck and throat then nipped her way across his chest and down to his waist. That was as far as he would let her go, so she yielded and kissed him until he was ready again, and then he proved her right. Finally sated, they pulled up and covers and snuggled together until they drifted off to sleep.

They had to lease another wagon besides the one they arrived with, and it occurred to Dee as they tried to get everything in this would probably always be the case. Khelgar was in the lead wagon beside the teamster. It was full of supplies for the Keep as well as several new urchins, several for the Keep and two hired to work at the festhall, who huddled quietly on their packs and a few pillows between crates. Shandra was driving the next wagon with Maisie Jons sitting beside her. It was filled with supplies and the entertainers for the festhall, including four girls, a boy, three cats in wicker baskets, as many rucksacks and chests as they could cram in the wagon, and Sand, whom the ladies found utterly charming. He lay in their midst and they stroked his ears, giving him the same affection they lavished on their cats.

Thanks to his spells they were making much better progress than should be possible considering the season and the condition of the road. The riders were spaced out along the caravan watching the woods and the road ahead. Dee spotted something in the trees, just a flash, and cursed in not bringing Neeshka or Bishop to scout ahead. But she cursed again at herself for getting soft. She reminded herself she was a ranger, so she tied Blossom to the lead wagon and took off on foot with Cillian. It didn't take long to confirm her suspicions, and she doubled back just as the others were pulling into a clearing to make camp for the night. Sand was casting Leomund's Secure Shelter as she strode into camp.

Dee spoke softly with Shandra, who whispered to Sand as she gathered the children and hustled them into the structure, followed by the widow and her entertainers. Dee walked up to Casavir, who was securing the horses, and gave him a kiss as he wrapped his arms around her then whispered as she nuzzled his neck, "We're bein' stalked." She felt him stiffen and added, "Shandra is passing the word and getting everyone in the shelters."

He held her nervously and whispered back, "Who do you think it is, bandits?"

She gave him a quick kiss and whispered, "Bandits or mercenaries out to collect that Luskan bounty on me. We should go join the others, but kiss me again first." He held her so tightly he almost squeezed the breath out of her as he kissed her again fiercely, and they turned towards the camp.

They had just stepped into the clearing where they saw Maisie Jons shutting the door of the shelter as one of the teamsters grabbed a belaying pin from under the seat. Shandra casually cleaned her great sword outside it while Sand and Khelgar patrolled the perimeter. Cillian came bounding over to her and reared up on his hind legs to sniff the air and roared towards the east.

Just then, a scruffy-bearded scale mail-clad dwarf stepped out of the brush and held his hand up. "Evenin', Captain. Figured you spotted us, so no time like the present to introduce ourselves, though would've been better about second watch."

Dee raised an eyebrow as two other men in leathers joined him. She casually shrugged her cloak back off her shoulders freeing her to draw her swords if need be and said calmly, "Evenin' stranger. You seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don't know you unless you're part of Khel's clan." Casavir also shrugged his cloak back and stood to her side with his hand on his war hammer sizing up the new arrivals while Cillian turned, rose up again and growled at the brush behind them.

The dwarf's party was joined by a dark, surly looking half-orc with one tusk that jutted out from his lower jaw bearing a huge ax as well as a thin half-elf whose handsome face was marred by a deep scar running down from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. He was wearing chain mail over a dirty black robe and carried a flail. Dee looked him over quickly for any visible clerical symbols. She didn't doubt that there were several others hidden in the brush, most likely a mage and several archers.

The dwarf snorted derisively and wiped his nose on his cloak. "You mean that poor excuse for a dwarf over there in his pajamas? I wouldn't claim him even if he were kin of mine! I've seen females that looked more able."

Khelgar bellowed, "Yeah? Well you're not fit to clean the Ironfist shite houses."

"Is there somethin' we can help you and your friends with? What's your business with us?" Dee was pretty sure she knew the answer as they didn't look like they wanted to share the camp, but she had to ask.

He said jovially, "I like a lass who's direct. Well you see, Captain, there's a small matter of that bounty on your head. There are some in Luskan who were none too happy about the way you got out of bein' hanged fer yer crimes and embarrassing Luskan in the process. And the way we figure, you've got to have some pretty choice gear to have survived this long, so we'll be helpin' ourselves to that too. No hard feelings, but the bounty is dead or alive, and it's a lot easier to haul your long-legged carcass to Luskan over the back of your horse than to take you back in chains. Hells, Garn here can animate your corpse and you can walk back carryin' me on your shoulder."

Dee replied evenly, "You must know my reputation. I'm very good at killing, and so are my friends. Why don't you all get on your way, and we'll forget this ever happened. That way we all go on livin' for another day."

The half elf looked troubled, and Dee nodded at him. "Walk away now, friend. Cyric won't mind." She turned her attention back to the leader. " As for you, how about you take my sword instead? It's got to be worth as much as the bounty on me. I'm sure you're well aware we're escorting women and children to Crossroads Keep. Take my swords and walk away."

The dwarf laughed loudly and nudged the half-orc and pointed at her. "She's funny. That's a good one, but there's not just you. I've done some checkin' while we was in Neverwinter, and there's a few in the Hosttower who would pay handsomely for long ears there, and the mama whore? Do you even know anything about her?" He nodded towards Maisie Jons peering out the door of the structure. "She's got an old bounty from way back for givin' testimony against some Luskan agents. She should have stayed 'disappeared' and she might have lived a bit longer. As for the others, we can sell any of the whelps who survive in Luskan, and the whores too." He drew his battle ax. "I'm beginin' to get bored with our conversation, Captain."

Dee slid her swords out of their scabbards as Casavir drew his silver hammer and Sand reached slowly into a pouch on his belt. "Take me and my gear and no one has to get hurt. I yield to you if you give your word you let the others go in peace." Casavir gasped "My lady! No!"

The dwarf chuckled loudly. "You're in no position to extract promises or set the terms, Captain Farlong." Dee glanced beside her quickly and realized that Cillian was frozen in place. Either a cleric or mage who could cast a Hold Animal spell was hidden in the brush.

Khelgar growled, "And you have no honor, you lily-livered spawn of a lame kobold! Lass, this one's mine! Come on you coward, let's settle this with just you and me fighting bare-handed, dwarf to dwarf."

The dwarf laughed and nudged the half-orc beside him again. "Let me take care of baldie, and you can have some fun with the Captain before we kill her, and then you and Gus can eat her innards, long as her face is intact so's they can identify her."

The half-orc didn't reply. He stood there grinning stupidly at Maisie Jons who beckoned him with a finger, a bit of spittle trailing out of the corner of his mouth. But then an arrows flew past them and into the door of the shelter and she screeched and slammed the door, as another hit Dee in the right thigh. Casavir growled and charged the hidden archers in the brush. Sand and a black robed woman who stepped out of the treeline were calling up spells, chanting and pointing at one another. Dee didn't have time to see which of them would get the spell off first. She followed Casavir and charged the hidden enemies swinging both swords as Casavir tried to block her with his shield. Khelgar deftly dodged more arrows and ran amazingly fast on his stubby legs, jumped up into the air, and slapped his fingertips lightly on the leader's chest.

He sprung backwards as his opponent laughed and swung his ax at him. Khelgar dodged it and stood back. "What in the nine hells was that, baldie?"

Khelgar shouted, "That? Yer dead, ye just don't know it yet!" The leader laughed though his eyes betrayed his fear. Suddenly he clutched his chest and fell down where he stood as blood poured out of his mouth. Khelgar backflipped over to Shandra, who was defending the structure and fighting a huge dark haired man armed with a wicked looking falchion. The teamsters were gamely holding off a brute of a man and a woman with a saber in armor so skimpy it had to be enchanted. Dee and Casavir had covered the ground between them and the archers, who grimly drew their swords to defend themselves.

In the aftermath of the battle Dee worked an arrowhead out of her shoulder as the widow and one of her girls cast healing spells on Shandra and one of the teamsters, who had taken a vicious blow to the forehead. The others were tending to the children, most of whom were huddled together crying softly. Sand was digging out healing potions from his pack and handing them out, his skin waxy, his perfect hair askew, and his eyes betraying his exhaustion from the battle. Dee knelt beside the dwarf and examined his corpse, but she could see no visible wounds save for five small circles on his chest where Khelgar had touched him. She had heard of such attacks but never seen one, but she would ask him to explain later when they were safely at the Keep.

Casavir was checking the attackers to see if any remained alive, but they were all dead except for the half-elven cleric, who had run off the first chance he got. Even the half-orc the widow had charmed had been cut down by his own archers before he could be turned on them, the silly grin frozen on his face in death. Cillian, free from the hold spell, was tasked with roaming through the brush looking for anyone still hiding there. Casavir began the grim task of dragging the bodies to a clearing so that Sand could immolate them with a Fireball spell. Dee helped, searching the bodies and removing anything useful as they went along. She muttered in a quavering voice as she closed the dwarf's eyes, "Give my regards to Kelemvor. Should have walked away, fool." She tossed the dwarf's axe in the pile. "Now your gear is ours. Why didn't you walk away?" Casavir came up beside her and put his arm around her.

Dee blinked away tears and asked, "Will the killing ever stop?"