Chapter 28 Knight, Resumed
Usual disclaimer and note: All of the characters other than an occasional NPC, a bear, and paladin lovin' ranger belong to Obsidian and a whole lot of other people. A few snippets of dialog are paraphrased from the NWN2 OC.
Dee muttered as she scanned the audience hall for the source of the chanting, "Please tell me this is some kind of initiation ceremony and that any minute now everyone's gonna start laughing..." But Sir Nevalle drew his sword as well as the alarm continued. Then the hall was filled with chaos; the crowd panicked, and mingled with the blaring alarm were screams of fear and pain. A woman near Dee screamed in agony as she burst into flame and fell to the floor a charred husk. To Dee's horror, a gray mist immediately coalesced around the woman's body, which rose to become a wraith! The air around the creature became as cold as a mountain stream in midwinter. It hissed at her malevolently but recoiled with another scream of agony as she slashed through it. Sir Nevalle grabbed Squire Jessime by her arm and pulled her closer so she was right beside them. Dee and Sir Nevalle instinctively turned so they were nearly back to back with the girl between them as they were surrounded by more wraiths.
He had a wild, desperate tone to his voice as he cried, "Assassins! They've come for Lord Nasher. We have to get to him!" But falling portcullises had cut them off from the throne as well as cutting them off from most of the passageways that led out of the audience chamber.
"We have to live to get to His Grace!" Dee growled in reply.
Dee was thankful she had her short sword. Elanee and Zhjaeve had enchanted all of their weapons with the holy blessing of the gods, and her blessed short sword made quick work of the wraiths, which seemed to melt as it touched them. She couldn't say the same of her new ceremonial long sword, however. It was a finely made silver blade with a beautiful jewel studded hilt, nicely balanced, and though she had enough experience by now to be able to sense an enchanted blade, she could tell the enchantment was only minor. Being silver it wasn't entirely ineffective against some of the undead, but her own long swords were much better.
Dee looked around for spellcasters. "Those shadow priests over there are raising the undead!" She, Sir Nevalle, and Squire Jessime fought their way towards them, both of them trying to protect the girl and keep her from doing any harm to herself or to them. Most of the knights and many of the nobles in the hall were armed, though some looked as if the only thing they had raised since the war with Luskan (or the war before that even) was a fork or a tankard. Nevertheless, most of them drew their weapons and joined with the guards to protect the unarmed spectators. Still they found they had to pick their way over the bodies of the wounded and dying. She didn't know what was happening in the spectator gallery where Casavir and her friends were. Her heart ached with the need to look, but she couldn't risk the distraction for a second.
And just when the last foul priest fell to a vicious downward twisting thrust of Sir Nevalle's blade, two green-skinned people who smelled of the grave materialized out of nowhere. "Vampires!" Sir Nevalle exclaimed, as if she needed to be told. She cursed angrily, invoking Bethshaba and one of her nether body parts.
Nevalle gasped "Captain!"
"Ain't the time for a lecture!" She hadn't used that particular curse in ages, since the time Casavir admonished her about her blaspheming (and later presented her with a 'curse jar' with a fine to be paid for every violation), but even the most vile curses she could think up seemed woefully inadequate now.
She dug in her belt pouch for a vial of holy water and threw it at the nearest one, striking it in the face. The creature screamed as the holy water burned it like acid. Dee could feel her knight's cloak heat up as it absorbed the force of some deadly spell cast at her by the other one. She managed to lop off its arm with her long sword then drove her short sword into its chest as Sir Nevalle neatly beheaded the other with a backward thrust then stabbed his sword through the creature's heart to finish it off. Even the young squire managed to land a blow on the one Dee had been fighting, though she mainly swung her long sword ineffectively. "Come on," Sir Nevalle shouted urgently not just to her but to everyone within earshot, "There's a guard room through this door where we can make a stand! Grab the wounded and we will cover you!" He shoved the young squire towards the door then he and Dee covered for the knights and guards who were trying to help get the wounded and dying out of the audience chamber. Once everyone was through they followed.
They were met there by a harried priest of Tyr who had turned the room into a triage center, healing guards so they could rejoin the fight. He had thrown open a supply closet and had taken all the vials of healing potions and lay them on the table, along with a few vials of holy water and some alchemist's fire. They slammed the door and barred it as soon as everyone got inside. As the others helped lay the injured out on bunks and on the floor, Sir Nevalle grabbed Dee's arm to get her attention. "We must go back and assist Lord Nasher! But ...it is said that when that alarm sounds, an ancient passageway opens to Neverneath and through there to a passage near Lord Nasher's throne. You seem to be..." He struggled to find the right words and finally settled on, "different, charmed even. It is said that whenever Neverwinter is in dire need, a hero is sent by the gods, and if that hero is you, I believe you will find the way. We'll fight our way back from here; I want you to go look for the passage behind the tapestries in the hallway. Please, get to him now! We'll cover your escape!"
Like his mother's invitation to tea, it was more of a command than a request. "Alone?" Dee thought incredulously, but she kept that thought to herself because of the desperate, stricken look on his face. Much later she would lie awake because of the realization that she hadn't felt the same depth of terror about what Casavir and the others were facing. "He really has it bad for him, and he's desperate or he wouldn't think of sending me to do anything this crazy," she thought, and she patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I don't think I'm your hero, but I'll do it. Pray Tyr guides my path." She kissed the symbol of the god she wore on a silver chain along with the silver unicorn of Mielikki and grabbed two of each of the vials on the table and tucked them in her belt.
It didn't make much sense to her to run out looking for some mythical hidden passage instead of standing with them and forcing the enemy back, but she glimpsed something otherworldly in his eyes for just a heartbeat, as if there were eyes behind his eyes entreating her to go. But not alone. She uttered a short prayer to Meilikki and summoned Cillian to her side. The bear appeared at once from out of an amber mist. He could sense her agitation and roared at Sir Nevalle before she called him off. She stroked the bear's head. "I missed you too, my love. Come on, we have work to do." A guard peered through the slot in the door to see if the hallway was clear then threw it open, and she sprinted into the hallway followed by Cillian, slashing tapestries looking for the mythical passageway.
The undead hadn't made it this far down the hall, at least not yet. A few doors down she spotted the room where she had dressed and waited to be called where her rucksack and her favorite long sword still were. She ran in, sheathed the ceremonial sword, and switched it for her own sword. It sparked to life from the electrical and fire enchantments Sand had cast upon it as she drew it. "I hope this isn't just some wild goose chase," she groused to Cillian. He looked at her in puzzlement, sniffed the air and reported that no geese, wild or otherwise, were anywhere about them. She chuckled dryly as she dropped to her haunches and dug in her rucksack for a scroll case and a couple of potions of Invisibility. Those had been bought for Neeshka, but they had 'liberated' a Ring of Invisibility from the gang of bounty hunters who had attacked them, and Neeshka immediately seized it for herself.
Dee quaffed one of the potions and persuaded Cillian to let her pour the other in his mouth. The bear growled in alarm as they began to vanish. She whispered, "Don't be afraid, my love. We can use our noses to find one another and speak through our bond." She kissed the top of his head to reassure him. They would be invisible unless they attacked something, but hopefully they could slip around any shadow priests who had made it this far. She wished she had asked Neeshka to train her to move silently. In the forest in her soft-soled boots she could move as silent as a ghost, but here in her hard riding boots almost every footfall on the marble floors echoed maddeningly. "Come on, love, let's go." She opened the door and peered out then called Cillian follow her. She winced at the loud clicking sound his claws made as they struck the marble floor. Definitely no way they were going to be stealthy here.
They strode quickly, Dee slashing at tapestries along the way. "Hope His Grace doesn't charge me for damaging these," she thought as she destroyed yet another. All too soon she turned another corner and came upon more shadow priests. She stopped and reached out her hand to find Cillian to signal for him to stop too. She whispered, "Let's get 'em, love!" Luckily the priests were clad in light armor, and she and Cillian had the element of surprise in their favor, so they took them down quickly. One's bones made an audible, sickening snap as Cillian grabbed him in a bear hug then ripped away his mask and half his face with a slash of his claws. The other fell as she slipped behind him and plunged her short sword into his kidney and gave it a sharp twist. Unfortunately the priests were not alone, and they were now visible to the ghasts that came loping down the hall at them, howling demoniacally.
"Ghasts...I hate gods-cursed ghasts!" She tried to swallow the vomit rising in her throat provoked by their nauseating stench and threw one of the vials of Alchemist's Fire into the midst of them, which destroyed three of the disgusting creatures, as well as another tapestry. Cillian bowled over another one of them and threw his entire weight against it, crushing it. Dee swung her sword at the nearest ghast, which in return slashed her arm with its filthy claws before it fell. She was horrified by the icy feeling of the poison seeping into the wound. The poison of ghast bites or claws often paralyzed the victim, and she thought she could feel her arm stiffening. But again her cloak warmed as its magic protected her from the paralysis, and she slashed the last ghast across the midsection, nearly cutting it in half, the wound spraying her and the bear with foul-smelling black blood.
That hallway led to a stairway going down. As Cillian reared up on his hind legs and turned his head from side to side as he sniffed the air, Dee leaned against the wall around the corner to catch her breath, the marble cool against her cheek. "Smells bad down there. Rot...carcasses...moving carcasses," he reported. Her heart was pounding so loudly she felt like it would fly from her chest, and she was sure the undead could hear it too, but it occurred to her she could turn that to her advantage if she lured whatever was down the stairs out. Using the most helpless-girly voice she could muster she moaned loudly and called out, "Help me, please! Is someone there? I'm hurt! Please!"
And as she suspected, the lure of easy prey was too much to resist. Another of the green-skinned vampires ran up the stairs, but she was waiting around the corner with her blades. This one had been a monk in life, and skilled as she was he easily dodged most of her swings and followed with a flurry of blows that made her head spin, and she prayed he couldn't do the thing that Khelgar did that made his opponent's heart explode. All the while the creature taunted her, promising that she would lie in his arms in his coffin in the morning. That's when Cillian slashed him from behind. Being momentarily distracted by the bear, Dee managed to stab her short sword into its chest and through its heart.
Another vampire screamed in rage as she beheld her companion fall and crumble to dust. She flew up the stairs and started to summon the magic for a spell, but Dee and Cillian didn't give her a chance to finish it. They threw themselves at her to cut her off. Dee landed half a dozen blows with her swords and Cillian managed a vicious swipe of his claws that nearly scalped her, but the creature still fought on. By the time Dee landed the killing blow, she and the bear were exhausted, but they couldn't pause for longer than it took for them each to drink a healing potion. She didn't even have a water skin on her belt, and she tried to ignore her parched throat as they pressed on.
And as she absently slashed another tapestry, beginning to lose faith in the legend and in Sir Nevalle's otherworldly vision, there it was! She blinked, wiped her spectacles, and looked again, but there was definitely an outline of a door there in the wall. "Well I'll be damned," she muttered. Neeshka would have thrown a fit that she didn't take the time to check the door for traps before she gave it a few exploratory pushes to trigger the mechanism that opened it. It slid aside, and she could feel cool air blow past her through the open passage. "Come on, my love. Let's see where this goes." She took Sand's light and opened it, but as they walked down the hall enchanted torches in sconces burst into flame, so she put it back in her pouch to leave her hands free to fight with both swords. The air was less stale than she had expected. They jogged down a long hallway. There were several doors along the way, but all of them were locked. A few ice mephits swarmed and attacked them, but they were more annoying pests than any serious threat. Up ahead she could make out a statue of a knight. It stood alone in an alcove that had closed doors on two sides.
A booming voice rang out and echoed around the alcove as she stepped on the tile in front of it. She recognized the spell, Magic Mouth, that would activate when someone approached it and make the statue appear to talk as the same one that Sand had cast on the door to his chambers to warn away the inquisitive (the voice mentioned Neeshka by name). She stood there in awe thinking that she couldn't wait to tell Gyven about this place then realized to her chagrin it had asked her a question, but she hadn't been paying attention. "Could you repeat that please?" she asked, blushing scarlet.
She thought she heard just a touch of annoyance in the voice as it repeated loudly, "How many fingers have I?" She looked at the statue, but it was too hard to tell. Then the answer came to her and she smacked her forehead. If the statue was of Lord Never, it must be speaking of the original Nine, and she held her breath after she answered that. A door to her left slid open and she slowly stepped through only to find fire mephits to swat away like the annoying pests they were so they could run to another statue at the end of that hall.
Most of the questions were easy enough for anyone who had lived in the city or read anything of Neverwinter's history, but she almost erred on the second to the last. She was asked, "Where would an enemy of Neverwinter find a map of the city?" and caught herself just before she replied, "That's easy! The street of book sellers next to the temple of Gond." But it felt as if someone poked her and she realized the statue had used the word 'enemy.' So she whispered a quick prayer of thanks to Tyr and Meilikki and remained silent, and after an anxious moment, a door slid open. She sighed with relief and walked through. They were swarmed by both kinds of mephits in this hallway, and Dee grumbled to Cillian in exasperation, "Surely the battle upstairs must be over by now. How many more gods-damned challenges can there be?" She left swatting them down to the bear and sprinted down to the next statue, which simply asked her to swear her loyalty to Neverwinter. "That's it? Then I solemnly swear my loyalty to Neverwinter. " She held her breath and heard a loud click, and then a door directly behind the statue opened as Cillian caught up to her.
And there it was! The way opened to a chamber that was oddly free of dust. Magical light that had no obvious source streamed down to illuminate an open coffin on a platform in the center of the room, surrounded by nine statues. Even from across the room she could see the body inside the coffin, perfectly preserved. "My gods, this really is it!" she gasped breathlessly to Cillian. She looked in awe on the spectacle. Nine swords floated in the air in a circle around the coffin, and she was sure they would attack if she wasn't careful. She tried to remember the words of the last statue. It had warned her about how she approached the body, so she called Cillian to her side and walked around the room slowly. She found she couldn't help but read the inscriptions on some of the statues of Lord Never's original Nine as she passed despite the urgency, but then again it felt as if time was suspended in this place.
Once she got to the back of the room, she told Cillian to wait for her and stepped gingerly on the carpet runner that led to Lord Halueth Never. She had to remind herself to breathe as she gazed on the perfectly preserved body's handsome elven features. She sheathed her swords and took a long sword lying beside the body in the coffin and looped its belt across her back and shoulder without a second thought. Lord Never held a rod in his hand, and whether it was a trick of her unsettled imagination she wasn't sure, but somehow a heartbeat later the rod was in her hand, and later the more she told the tale, the more sure she was that the body itself had handed it to her, and that his eyes had opened and looked into hers for a moment. She stuck it in her belt, backed away, and ran up some stairs she spotted across the chamber, anxious to get away but feeling an odd sense of regret to leave the peaceful tomb.
As she gained the top of the stairs she found three stone walls blocking her way, so she felt around for the door she knew had to be there. Otherwise, why the stairs, she reasoned. After several distressing minutes of searching the walls in vain, she leaned back against one of the walls with an exasperated sigh when she noticed a sconce with another magically lit torch was a tiny bit lower than the sconce opposite it. She held her breath and pulled on it, closing her eyes and bracing herself in case it was trapped. Nothing happened; she muttered a curse and crossed the landing to pull on the other. This time a door slid open, and she was about to draw her long sword again when she thought better of it and drew Lord Never's sword from her back instead. She realized as she yanked down a tapestry barring her way that she was directly behind Lord Nasher's throne. But was she in time? Incredibly it sounded as if the battle was still going on, as if they had been prolonging it until she arrived.
To her horror she saw a shadow reaver menacing Lord Nasher as he, Sir Grayson, and two of the remaining guards fought it off. From the way Lord Nasher's cloak and crown glowed, it looked as if they had absorbed the energy of several evil spells the reaver had cast at him. She grabbed the other vial of holy water in her belt and lobbed it at the abomination and followed up with the alchemists' fire before she drew her short sword. The shadow reaver hissed in pain as they struck, but she knew that it wasn't possible to kill it. The best they could hope for was to injure it enough to force it to retreat to the Shadow King's lair. She heard metal banging on metal and caught a glimpse of Sir Nevalle's distressed face across the hall as he and several guards feverishly tried to pry open the portcullis that blocked the throne from the rest of the chamber, but without success.
She stepped up beside Lord Nasher, who blinked in surprise and asked her, "Where the hells did you come from?" She and Cillian took positions on the opposite side from Sir Grayson and joined the fight until they overwhelmed the reaver and it vanished in a swirl of noxious black smoke. With that, the portcullises slid back into their recesses and Sir Nevalle and the guards charged the dais. Dee asked in alarm, "My Lord, are you alright?" as Lord Nasher sat heavily on his throne. He put his face in his hands for a moment as he tried to compose himself. "They attacked me in my very castle! This is how this enemy fights, with magic rather than with swords!"
Sir Nevalle rushed to his side and took his hand while his other hand went around his shoulders to support him. "Nash...my...Lord." He turned and shouted, "A priest to Lord Nasher!" Priests of many faiths had already come running into the room once the way was clear, having been summoned initially to the castle when the alarm sounded, and they had immediately turned to healing the fallen and blessing the dead.
Lord Nasher stood and allowed Sir Nevalle the briefest of public embraces. "I am not badly hurt, Gilles. Have the priests see to the others." He turned his attention to Dee and the bear standing beside Sir Grayson. "Is that is the Rod of Never in your belt? I've seen it in his portrait. My gods, where did you find it? Let me see it!"
She explained as Prior Hlam lay his hand on her head and cast a healing spell how Sir Nevalle had sent her to find the forgotten passageway. She handed it to him. "It was like he knew I would find it. 'Tis there through that doorway." She nodded over her shoulder, but the doorway was closed again. "It was there behind that tapestry on the floor. I can probably find it again, or mayhap my friend Neesh can if I can't."
He whispered to no one in particular as he turned the rod in his hands, "This rod will unlock all of the secrets of Castle Never, beginning with that door."
She suddenly became aware of the sword in her hand and sheathed it and handed it to him sheepishly. "Oh, and this is his sword too."
He grinned sardonically at her, took the sword and drew it, then ran his hand over the blade. "Now where were we? I recall we had a ceremony to perform, and I apologize in advance that it will be rather truncated. You don't mind my using Lord Never's sword, Squire? I think afterwards I will give it to you as a reward for your service. Grayson, do you release this squire from fealty to you?" Sir Grayson, being tended to by a Dawnbringer of Lathander, looked over and nodded his assent. "Then kneel, Squire." She did so albeit shakily, too exhausted and overwhelmed to argue though she was in agreement with Sir Nevalle's sputtered protest that they follow the proper procedure. Lord Nasher smiled at him and patted his cheek fondly. "And may I remind you, Sir Nevalle, that you were knighted in the field of battle kneeling in the mud as we were surrounded by orcs? We have much to do, and little time to observe formalities." He turned his attention back to Dee. "Do you swear fealty to Neverwinter, Squire?"
Dee wiped away a tear, which was followed by another, and replied breathlessly, "I swear fealty to Neverwinter."
Lord Nasher dubbed her left shoulder. "So be it. In remembrance of oaths given and received." He dubbed her right shoulder. "In remembrance of your obligations. " He finished by taping her lightly on top of her head. "Rise, Lady Dierdre Farlong, Knight of Neverwinter." She stood before him, and he struck her lightly on the cheek with his fist, but still hard enough that she had to take a step back. "Take that blow to remind you that Knighthood shall bring you pain as well as honor. Let it be the last unanswered blow you take."
She was crying softly now but made no attempt to stem the flow of tears. Sir Grayson stepped up with a set of silver spurs, and he and Sir Nevalle knelt together and fastened them to her boots as Lord Nasher took a thick gold chain from around his neck and placed it around hers. "Take these as tokens of your knighthood, the spurs for a token of your rank, and this chain as a token of your fealty. There, I believe that is everything." He embraced her stiffly and patted Cillian's head then gently chided Sir Nevalle. "And you feared her bear would misbehave. Now Lady Farlong, go and greet your peers, and that handsome dark haired young man whom I believe is awaiting you anxiously. Afterwards you two will join me in my privy chamber for dinner. You may bring the bear too, I suppose. We have much to discuss regarding your Keep and the coming war." He raised his voice so it reverberated throughout the hall. " In the meantime, I fear we must draw up plans for evacuating the city. Representatives from the various temples, Captain Brelaina and Marshall Cormick of the Watch, and my advisors will attend me in the War Room immediately."
She managed to stammer, "Thank you, my Lord," as he gave her a curt nod of dismissal and walked off briskly followed by a flock of retainers and advisors, and then she was swept up in Casavir's arms. She sighed, "Oh love," and they shared a long kiss before he reluctantly broke away to let her companions have a few moments with her.
Sand took one look at her, wrinkled his nose in distaste, and cast a Clean cantrip before he accepted the hug. He took a set of calipers from one of his pouches and used them to remove a ghast claw still embedded in her sleeve, which he placed in a jar then into his pouch. Duncan was right behind him, followed by her Knight, the Prior, and Judge Oleff. She wasn't as surprised as the others were that Bishop had wanted to come along as well. She hugged him and whispered, "I"m so glad you came, Bish. It means a lot to me that we can put the past behind us and be friends now." She was confident that this was proof that she had been right about him (and everyone else was wrong) and that he was responding to her overtures of kindness and companionship.
But even as she hugged him and he returned it stiffly, she missed the look of pain that her words caused him, as if she had offered him the most vile of curses instead. But Casavir didn't. He had given up trying to persuade her that the ranger was not to be trusted when he couldn't argue with her retort, "I have to trust him until he gives me a reason not to." He let it go because Bishop remaining at the Keep was the only thing they argued about now. He even agreed that they needed his skills. But he wasn't letting his guard down.
Neither Elanee nor Zhjaeve was there. Casavir explained that the Githzerai remained behind to learn what she could from Ammon Jerro, but she was also fascinated with the coming of spring and the constant changes to the land and was taking an active part in the spring planting. Elanee had stayed to help with the planting too but also to serve as a referee between Zhjaeve and Jerro.
Grobnar was there too behind Khelgar and had composed a song for the occasion which he was ready to sing, but Dee promised to listen to it later at the tavern. She knelt and hugged them both then they all turned towards the sounds of a commotion near the wall, which included Neeshka's distinct high-pitched voice; Dee was the least surprised of any of them to see that the tiefling had caught a man who had slipped in and was taking advantage of the chaos to rob the dead and injured under the guise of helping. Neeshka was twisting his arm behind his back and shouting for the guard.
Sir Nevalle cleared his throat loudly to get her attention, and Dee looked at him and observed that he really did tap his right foot when he was growing impatient like Squire Jessime had said. It was all she could do not to burst out laughing despite the seriousness of the situation, or perhaps because of it. "I'll see you all back at the Flagon." She took Casavir's hand and as they followed Sir Nevalle, whispered, "I have so much to tell you, love."
He kissed the top of her head and sighed softly. "Now you can't scold me for calling you 'my lady.' I was very worried when we were cut off from you, and once we defeated the undead in the gallery, all I could do was pray for you and the others down here, not that prayer is a small thing. We could hear the sounds of fighting but we couldn't breach the defenses. It was very frustrating."
She leaned against him, taking in his scent and basking in the calming of his presence. "It was all I could do not to worry about you. And we were cut off from Lord Nasher too. I don't think anyone expected an attack like that here. I guess we were all a bit complacent, and people died because of it."
Sir Nevalle led them up a stairway that led to the royal suite. He paused as if uncertain as to his course before he opened a door and gestured for them to enter. "These rooms in this corridor are reserved for members of the Nine, but this one is not in use. You may wait here and refresh yourselves while you await Lord Nasher's summons. I'll have one of the servants bring your things here." He put a hand on her shoulder as they were about to enter. "Lady Farlong, might I have a word with you...alone?"
Dee blinked as she realized he was addressing her. Lady would take some getting used to. "Of course, Sir Nevalle." Casavir bowed deeply to Sir Nevalle and entered the room with Cillian, shutting the door behind them. Dee knew he would never think of standing on the other side of the door and listening to them like she would have.
Once Casavir was out of sight, it was as if the last bit of energy the knight had summoned to fight his way to Lord Nasher evaporated, and he sagged heavily against the wall. Dee grabbed him in alarm. "Sir Nevalle! Are you hurt? Let me get a priest!"
He breathed heavily trying to fight the emotions that were overwhelming him as he leaned against her and managed to get out, "No, thank you. I'm not badly injured. It's just...I don't know what I would do if I...if Neverwinter lost Lord Nasher...and I have few to whom I may confide this." He shuddered as he tried wipe away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks and whispered, "Forgive me."
She wrapped him in her arms and coaxed him into laying his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair and murmured words of comfort. "There now, Sir Nevalle, there's nothin' to forgive. Let it out before it makes you sick. You were right. The gods must have inspired you to send me down there."
He fished a delicate linen handkerchief embroidered with his family's crest from his pouch and wiped his eyes then blew his nose loudly. "Nevertheless, you have my deepest thanks. And you no longer have to address me by 'Sir' as you are now a peer of the realm. You may call me Nevalle as the other knights do, or Gilles. It's my given name. But I pray you, please do not shorten it to 'Nev.' I've observed that you have a habit of shortening the names of your companions, but I detest being called that."
She gave him another hug. "Nevalle it is. Now you should go wash your face and put on a clean tabbard before His Grace calls us." She winked and stepped away.
He looked at her then at himself aghast. "You're right, I must look hideous. Thank you...Dierdre." He absently finger-combed his hair and glanced at his face in a mirror hanging near them. "My gods, I am a fright. But you're more so."
She chuckled. "I'm sure His Grace won't mind too much. Go to him, he needs you...your counsel." She paused as she was about to open the door. "And by the way, my friends call me Dee, not Dierdre."
He smiled. "Dee then. And you are right. When Nash...Lord Nasher is the most distressed, in public view he acts as if everything is normal. Hence your knighting, which could have been rescheduled until tomorrow. Oh, and speaking of tomorrow, Mother will still expect you for tea, and I would be happy to take you by the shops to find something more...suitable to wear and we can stop by the barber if there's time. Your hair is rather shaggy." She ran her fingers through her hair self consciously. "Then perhaps you can help me persuade Mother to take the evacuation order seriously. That's a battle I am not looking forward to." He took her hand and kissed it, but she pulled him into another hug then turned to her room.
She paused with her hand on the knob. "My hair...Cas likes to brush it, so I'm growin' it out for him. I know we have much to do, but for now I need to spend some time in the arms of my beloved. I think his Grace needs to do the same, though he probably won't admit it."
And she threw herself into Casavir's arms as soon as the door was closed. They kissed then gazed into one another's eyes as she put her hands on either side of his face and caressed his cheeks. He murmured, his eyes glazed with tears, "Dee, I was so terribly worried about you. I don't know what I would do if..."
She kissed him fiercely to stop the words she couldn't bear to hear that would force her to confront the unthinkable. They kissed softly again and again and again until she reluctantly broke away to answer a soft knock on the door, where a young serving boy was standing with her rucksack.
She told him what had happened as she undressed, with much assistance (and much hindrance) from Casavir, who had prepared a basin holding warm, wet cloths while he was waiting that he ran over her body followed by gentle kisses and a few soft bites that made her shiver. He murmured, "There's a bath through that door. Pity we don't have time to share it." He had overcome his initial shyness at sharing a bath with her until that, along with slowly undressing her to get into it, had become his favorite forms of foreplay. He had even surprised her on a few occasions by having a hot bath in her candle-lit room waiting for her.
"Yes, it is a pity, but there's the bath at Uncle's tavern later," she whispered huskily as she let him help her dress, tying all the various laces on her garb. She recalled then a late night discussion about men with Neeshka and Shandra at the Moonstone Mask. One of Ophala's women overheard them and had asserted that all men had their quirks and then she educated them with examples both benign and bizarre. Dee had countered that perhaps that was true of some men, but surely not all and cited Casavir as an example, and Neeshka and Shandra had heartily agreed. But she had been proved wrong, though she was relieved that his quirks so far tended towards the benign.
They were even developing their own secret erotic code, using mundane words with double meanings inserted into perfectly ordinary conversations as a promise of what was to come once they were finished with their duties and alone together. Twice he had slipped notes into a ledger and once into a pile of documents she had to sign (and to his horror Kana almost intercepted it) and had responded to her gasp when she found them with a knowing smile. She stretched up and whispered in his ear, "I can't wait to get you alone at Uncle Duncan's tonight." She nipped his earlobe and followed with a deep kiss. All too soon a guard rapped on the door and announced that he was there to escort them to Lord Nasher.
A round table laden with a variety of dishes had been set up in one of his audience rooms, but no one had much of an appetite except for Dee, which was so unusual for her that Casavir found himself watching her with controlled alarm, and Cillian, who never had to be prompted to eat. She sampled most of the dishes on the table like she hadn't eaten in a month. But the flavors seemed so vibrant as if she was tasting them for the first time that she wanted to try a bit of everything the steward offered her. Lord Nasher toyed with his food for a while then pushed it away and stood and paced the room like a caged animal, saying little but nevertheless betraying his outrage at the attack. Sir Nevalle watched him pace across the room then back again with obvious concern, and Dee again was moved to pity for him.
She was given her orders—to finish the fortifications of the Keep, help find a way to destroy the shadow reavers, and to make allies wherever she could. Lord Nasher told them he had dispatched messages to his ambassadors in Waterdeep to entreat the Lords Alliance to send troops and to accept as many of Neverwinter's citizens as refugees as they could. They discussed asking Luskan for aid, but in the end Lord Nasher decided Luskan was not to be trusted so to save that as a last resort, to the relief of them all. Casavir suggested asking the churches of the good gods for help. Dee suggested they approach the dwarven clans and also the tribe of lizard men near Highcliff. Lord Nasher was skeptical, but agreed with her that they couldn't afford to reject any aid.
He had been pacing the whole time and paused halfway across the room in mid stride and turned to face her. "I could use your service in another form. I no longer have my full Nine, Lady Farlong, and I invite you to fill out their number."
Dee quickly chewed and swallowed the bite she had in her mouth, blushing deeply. Was this something she even wanted? "Why me?," she thought, and she cast out a silent prayer for guidance to Tyr before she replied, " I'm honored, Your Grace. But isn't it too soon since I became your knight, and won't people wonder why my star is rising so quickly when there are other worthy candidates? It could create dissent among your retainers."
Lord Nasher scowled in annoyance for a second but covered it well. "True, here are others who are worthy, but I've offered this honor to you."
Casavir reached under the table and squeezed her hand giving her a subtle warning to choose her words carefully, and she squeezed his hand in return. "It is a great honor, Your Grace. I will think on it and seek the gods and give you my answer after I've returned from the Ironfist Clan stronghold."
He picked up the rod and walked to the door. "Very well, Lady Farlong. Now, if you are finished with the strawberry tart, I would like you to show us the way to Neverneath."
As it turned out, the rod did open the way, though Lord Nasher closed the door and had her demonstrate how she found the door and how to open it anyway. This time she was able to read the placards on the statues at her leisure and copied them into her journal with Casavir at her side. Sir Nevalle followed Lord Nasher as he walked to the casket and gazed upon the body of Lord Never, saying nothing but stroking his beard deep in thought. Sir Nevalle took his hand as they stood there.
There were chests in the room that she hadn't taken the time to open before, but she did so now at Lord Nasher's request, glad that none of the locks were beyond her skill. Among other things they found a fine set of mirrored armor, which Lord Nasher offered to Dee, but she offered it to Sir Nevalle when she saw the way his eyes lit up when he saw it. She did accept a short sword with Lord Nasher's permission to sell it to defray the costs of fortifying the Keep. Once they opened all the chests, Dee led them in reverse order through the passageways until she found the one she had entered through. They opened the door and Lord Nasher stepped out into the hallway, startling a handful of guards and workers who were rehanging the tapestry over the hidden door.
They followed behind Lord Nasher and Sir Nevalle examining the damage to the castle, which several members of the Many-Starred Cloaks had already set about repairing. Dee was relieved to see that most of the tapestries she had damaged had been repaired good as new. Lord Nasher led her to see where her own banner had been hung towards the back of the audience chamber. As Lord Nasher was explaining the history of some of the other knights' banners, she caught Sir Nevalle glancing at waterclocks along the way and also saw him stifling yawns, so she feigned a huge, unladylike yawn. Casavir nudged her discreetly. It was rude, but she was the yokel from West Harbor, so she figured she could get away with it. She knew she couldn't leave without being dismissed by her lord, who she could tell was talking through his nervousness and anxiety much the same way as she did. Lord Nasher did a double take when he looked at the waterclock and realized the lateness of the hour. "You must be exhausted, so you best return to your uncle's tavern. Nevalle certainly looks like he can't wait to go to bed either." Dee bit her lip to stifle a chuckle and she and Casavir bowed to them both and walked backwards the required ten steps before custom dictated they could turn their back on him.
Sir Nevalle called out, "I'll collect you at ten so we have time to go to the shops. Mother finds tardiness distasteful." He turned and glanced subtly with his eyes towards the stairs and Lord Nasher's chambers and smiled invitingly. Lord Nasher gazed at him for a moment then put his arms around him and kissed him gently, with no regard for public appearances, not that their relationship was a secret to any of the guards and servants on duty.
Dee, Cillian, and Casavir walked back through the city slowly towards the tavern. Word of the attack had spread like the pox through the city, and some citizens weren't waiting for the official evacuation order and were already heading to the docks with carts and wheelbarrows loaded down with their most important belongings or carrying bundles on their backs, some to travel by caravan to Port Llast or as far north as Mirabar to wait out the coming battle, and others to get on a ship headed anywhere as long as they were far away from here. As they reached the corner Dee saw Bishop entering one of the more economically priced festhalls down the street from the Flagon. She could tell it was him from his stance and the way he walked, though Karnwyr wasn't with him and he had his hood up. She cast a silent prayer to Sharess that he wouldn't catch anything there.
"I wonder whatever became of the last hero of Neverwinter," Dee mused as they walked up to the tavern door.
Casavir gave her a squeeze and kissed her forehead. "Retired to richly earned obscurity the last I heard."
She kissed him back sleepily. "Relative obscurity. I pray we live to see it."
Bishop sat drinking cheap ale at the bar while he waited for the wench to finish with her customer. He was on his third when the barkeep eyed a man coming down the stairs and nodded at Bishop and growled, "Opal's in Room Five, a silver for the ales and five more for the house cut. Settle the rest up with her." Bishop tossed the coins over and took the stairs two at a time. He knocked once sharply and the wench, wearing nothing but a thin sleeveless chemise, opened the door and stood leaning against the door jamb in a seductive pose. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smells of filth, sweat, and sex that mingled in the room with an undercurrent of the smoke of dragon's milk.
"Oh, it's you again." She bit the gold piece he pressed into her hand after she stood aside for him to enter and closed the door behind him. She put the coin in a pouch on top of a crate which served as a table and held her meager possessions then shimmied out of the chemise.
"I'm only here for information." He sat on the only chair in the room and stared at her nakedness anyway rethinking his original intention.
"You're paying this much for information again? You've paid enough for a tumble, or I can at least give you a suck." She was tired, but the woodsman was more handsome than the majority of her customers. It was too bad she didn't have more who only wanted to talk. She reclined on the bed on her side and patted it and pouted that he made no move to join her. "I told you everything I know about Casavir before, but it's your gold." She stood and slipped the chemise back on and then opened a small metal tin. She withdrew a thin ceramic pipe and stuffed black tar-like ball in it and lit it, breathing in the smoke deeply. "Want some?" She held the pipe out to him.
Bishop scowled in disgust and stood and walked to the door. "That can wait until I leave, can't it? I've paid for your time. Do that on your own time. I just want to know what else you can tell me about Casavir. There must be something else."
She shrugged and put the pipe out. "There's nothing more I can think of." She repeated everything she had told him the first time, her own version of her brief affair with Casavir. "And that's it. I hadn't seen him except in passing since then until I saw him on the street a few months ago with that skinny blond who's built like a boy." He demanded she go over every detail again. Emboldened by the drug, she narrowed her eyes and swayed over to Bishop and caressed his chest then ran her hand on down and gave him a squeeze. "Why are you so interested in Casavir. Is it because you want her, or is it because you want him? You want to give him a suck, hmm?" She laughed at the way his face darkened.
That was the last word she ever spoke. The next thing she knew his hands were around her throat and she was trying to scream and gasping for breath and then everything went dark.