Chapter 50: Captain? Me?
Nimbrethil followed Nevalle through the Docks towards the Merchant District. He hadn't said where they were going or what the urgent matter was, but right now she didn't care. Right now she was still fuming over what she saw as betrayal by the others. They had been working on getting her to be more open with them, yet she had caught them red-handed saying those things behind her back. Who in the hells did they think they were, putting themselves above everyone else? Who made them judge and jury? And why did she care so much now what they thought? Because deep down you do care about their opinions of you, you have always cared, her conscience mocked her. Her mind rebelled against that idea and she shook her head, dismissing the thought because it was too disturbing.
Nevalle was watching the girl out of the corner of his eye and could see the anger in her eyes and in every move of her body and mentally sighed. He suddenly stopped right in front of her, getting her full attention. "What happened back there squire?" he asked, his tone indicating this was an order.
"Why do you care?" Nimbrethil spat. "Suffice it to say that those I thought were my friends turned out to be snakes in the grass."
"With recent events, and the troubles coming in the future, it is important that I know of any potential trouble amongst your companions," he answered firmly. "You are going to need all the help you can get, and if there is strife in your party then this could spell disaster for everyone."
Nimbrethil watched him closely for his reaction as she told him what had occured. She saw his eyes widen a little when she related Duncan's words. When she finished, he merely stared at her for a long time, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Well, you have every right to be upset with your uncle and the others for not coming to you first with their concerns and feelings," he began and saw her relax a little. "However, their concerns are justified in Bishop's case."
"What do you mean?" she asked, a dangerous note entering her voice.
"Part of the job of the Nine is to protect Lord Nasher and that means identifying and watching any and all people who have, or have had, ties to Luskan," he began. "We know for a fact that Bishop worked for Luskan, but what kind of work it was we don't know. His association with that city ended several years ago, and to date we have seen no evidence of any criminal activity on his part. Evidence we have gathered seems to indicate that he might have once been a member of an assassination squad, same as Lorne, but we can't confim it."
Nimbrethil felt herself go cold at hearing those words, for it gave credence to her uncle's beliefs. However, she had to wonder what the truth behind his words really was, for Bishop's hatred of Luskan's was very real and very marked. "Tell me something Nevalle, if you were ordered by Lord Nasher to kill someone who was a threat to him, would you do it?" She saw him start at the question. "If you were ordered to do something so distasteful as that by your Lord and master, and if the penalty for refusing to do it was death, would you do it?"
"Lord Nasher would never do such a thing," Nevalle replied. "But if he did, I suppose I would have no choice but to carry out his orders." However, his voice lacked confidence as he spoke.
"Do you think that everyone who works for Luskan does so by choice?" she asked him. She saw him shake his head. "Neither do I. Bishop hasn't told me about his past and I refuse to pry into it. However, I can say with absolute confidence, that whatever he did was so that he could survive for another day. In that way, we are very much alike, for I have and will continue to do whatever is necessary to survive. However, it does come with a price, a price that many can't live with. The memories haunt you and you can begin to think that there is no escape except death. Those who can't deal with it seek death, either by their own hand or the hand of another. Sometimes, even if they can learn to shut out the memories, it still affects the way they look at the world around them, and they merely end up going through the motions of living."
Nevalle studied her and saw a flicker of some distant pain in her eyes and wondered what kind of dark secrets she had buried in her soul. He finally understood what it was she saw in the ranger, what the others couldn't see. She saw a kindred spirit, someone who suffered for past acts and yet continued to live, even if he was only going through the motions. "I get the feeling that you're not talking about just Bishop here," he said quietly.
"Bishop has an unpleasant past, one that won't leave him alone," she continued softly. "Sometimes at night he wakes me up because of nightmares he has. I never ask him what they are about, merely sooth him back into sleep. Sometimes the positions are reversed, and it is Bishop who quiets me when a nightmare disturbs my sleep. When we are both ready we will talk about it and maybe find some measure of peace then. And whatever the cause of these bad dreams, they are our business, no one else's, understood?" she finished, her voice cold and hard.
"Perfectly squire," Nevalle nodded, feeling sympathy flood through him for whatever it was that could cause such a haunted look come into her eyes. "As for what happened, I don't believe that you should have taken your anger with what your uncle said out on everyone else. Shandra was correct in that it wasn't fair. If they didn't care about you, and weren't your friends, they wouldn't have bothered in the first place. They should have come to you instead of discussing it behind your back, true. But, as I have heard you say in the past, they are only human with all the foibles that go with it." He saw her start and a slight smile cross her lips at those words.
Sighing, Nimbrethil nodded in agreement, "I suppose that I overreacted, but try to see how it looked to me. They were always telling me that I should judge people by what they do, not what they are or what they might or might not have done. Yet, they have never given Bishop that same courtesy and that to me smacks of hypocrisy."
"Yes, you have a point there," Nevalle said as he turned and continued walking. "Perhaps after this they will come to see it in the same light. I just want you to understand that they are your friends and that friends sometimes make mistakes. A true friend forgives those mistakes."
Nimbrethil said nothing, but wondered if she could forgive them. It had hurt to hear them say those things and it still hurt even now. True, she didn't really know if Bishop was a willing servant of Luskan or not, it was just her instincts telling her he hadn't wanted to. However, her instincts had never failed her before and she trusted them over and above everything else. She would just have to try to get him to talk her when she got back. "So, what is the nature of this urgent matter and why are we heading to the Merchant Quarter?" She decided that she had said too much already and her tone indicated it was time to change the topic of the conversation.
"Aldanon was not the only one Garius was holding prisoner at the keep," he answered. "The other prisoner was a woman of questionable origin and she claims to have knowledge of exactly who the true enemy we face is." He saw the elf look at him skeptically and suppressed a smile. "It does seem rather a convenient story on her part, does it not?"
"It does indeed," Nibmrethil agreed. "What does she offer as proof of her claim and what is she asking for in return?"
"Actually she is refusing to say anything more and insists on speaking with you in person," Nevalle's voice sounded distinctly miffed.
"She asked for me personally?" Nimbrethil's eyebrows went up in surprise.
"Not by name no," he answered. "Her exact words were 'Know that I will only speak to the bearer of the shards'. It was Aldanon who figured out that you were the one she was referring to." He said nothing more for a while, giving the girl time to absorb the information. "You should also know that Lord Nasher has made a rather surprising, and somewhat controversial decision and that this decision directly involves you and Crossroad Keep."
"I don't suppose he's decided that I'm more trouble than I'm worth and is going to release me from his service and send me packing?" Nimbrethil asked half jokingly.
Nevalle frowned at the almost wishful tone with which she asked the question. He shouldn't be surprised that she still hoped to be free of the unwanted chains of duty. He had gained some understanding of just how difficult being in this city was for her and how she chafed at not having the freedom to go where she wanted and do what she pleased. He supposed that if he was tasked by Lord Nasher to serve in the woods for some reason that he would like it no more than she liked what she had to do. "No, he hasn't squire," he said aloud.
"Then what decision has he made?" she asked flatly.
"Decades ago there was a war against this King of Shadows," he began. "While very few records or stories of that war still exist one thing is known for certain. Crossroad Keep served as staging point for troops during the last war. As such it was targeted and ended up being destroyed. Over time it has fallen into further ruin. Because of its strategic location, Lord Nasher has decided it needs to be rebuilt and that you are the one most suited for the task. As such, he is promoting you to Captain and putting you in charge of rebuilding the Keep and making it ready for war."
Nimbrethil stopped dead in her tracks, mouth open, her eyes wide in shock. After staring at Nevalle for a few moments she began to laugh. "I never...knew...you had...a sense of humor," she gasped out.
"I do have a good sense of humor squire," Nevalle told her sternly. "However, in this particular instance I am being perfectly serious Captain," he emphasized the new title and saw the laughter fade from her face.
"Okay, you and Nasher are insane," Nimbrethil stated firmly. "I always suspected you were and this proves it. A wood elf ranger is made a captain and is put in charge of a keep. Oh yes, insanity is the right word for that."
"Actually, it is not an insane idea at all," Nevalle said calmly. "We read the reports Vale made about what you did at the keep. We also spoke at length with Sand. What we saw was someone who has a surprisingly good knowledge of battle tactics and strategy. We read between the lines and saw someone who was a stickler for detail, was cautious in her approach, who didn't underestimate her opponent, and who put the safety of those who served by her side above all else. These are the qualities that all great leaders have, the kind of qualities and abilities that tip the odds for victory in their favor. There is no one in the service of Neverwinter, including myself, who is more qualified for this task than you are."
"You're serious aren't you?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. "Nevalle, you know the real reason I was made a squire because it was your idea in the first place. You also know that I never wanted it. I don't belong here, or at Crossroad Keep, or inside walls of any kind. My home is the woods and fields, lakes and forests. Don't do this to me, don't chain me like this, please," she said in desperation. "If you do, it will kill my soul, my spirit. Please, I'm begging you, don't cage me," she finished in a whisper, barely able to get the words past the lump in her throat.
Nevalle was shocked to hear such words from her, but was even more shocked to see tears in her eyes. He had seen her angry, had seen her laugh, but he had never seen her cry. Furthermore, the tears were not caused by sadness but by fear of all things. She was afraid of losing herself, her identity and he found himself at a loss for words. Most of the men and women serving the city would jump at the opportunity to run the keep for it carried with it power and prestige. It had never occured to him or Nasher that she would not react in the same way.
"I am sorry squire, but the decision has been made," he said quietly. "However, I will speak to Lord Nasher and tell him of your concern. I cannot promise that it will change his decision but I will talk to him. In the meantime, we still have that female prisoner of Garius' to deal with. I need to make a decision regarding her and cannot do that until you have spoken to her. For now, let's deal with the matter at hand and forget about Crossroad Keep and your promotion." He saw her nod and straighten up.
Nimbrethil somehow managed to get her emotions under control, and when she turned back to Nevalle the mask was once more firmly in place. She would hear what this mysterious woman had to say so Nevalle could make whatever decision he needed to. Then, if Nasher's mind could not be changed, she would pack her bags and leave. She knew Bishop would gladly join her and their companions would also be with them at the very least. Before coming to this city and having people around her all the time she would not have felt the need for someone else's company on the road. Now, the idea of being alone was unpleasant and the knowledge that she wouldn't be was comforting. Nasher and the rest of them would just have to find someone else, for she would never agree to do as they wished. Never, end of story, contract terminated.