Despair

by JCL1371

After killing Sarevok and defeating the Iron Throne things had to settle down. Imoen got married, and she and Jeral both looked forward to well deserved peace and happiness. Apparently Irenicus had other ideas. Set in the Baldur's Gate II game this is a follow on to 'Disappointment' and tells the story of Jeral the bard and his companions.

24. No help from the Order

Chapter 24: No help from the Order

The remainder of the afternoon dragged by with an agonizing slowness as Jeral waited for Anomen to return to the Copper Coronet. Soreal and Kretor departed to attend to guild business but they promised to return by sunset for dinner. Jeral passed the time as best he could. He took a long hot bath and had one of Hendak's men give him a haircut and then shave the thin shadow of a beard that had started to cover his youthful face. He also had the staff wash his soiled clothes and he dressed in one of his finer outfits. He attired himself in a pair of dark grey breeches made of a thick linen and topped it with a short sleeve red tunic. His short waisted black jacket went over the shirt and completed his outfit. After he buckled on his sword belt Jeral carried his spellbook downstairs along with the one he bought for Imoen. He found a well lit table close to the bar and spent the remainder of the afternoon scribing spells from scrolls they had recovered into the two spellbooks.

Since Imoen was far more talented with the arcane arts Jeral consistently placed the most complex and powerful spells in her spell book. So focused was Jeral on his task that he failed to notice as the common room started to fill with the dinner crowd. Hendak placed a lantern at the center of the table to provide additional light as the sun went down and had a serving girl clean up the discarded and drained scrolls that littered the floor around Jeral's table.

"You are turning into quite the mage Jeral, I am suitably impressed." Yoshimo silently slid into a chair across the table from Jeral and snapped his fingers to get the attention of a serving girl. Patting her bottom fondly he asked for a tankard of dark ale. The ale quickly arrived and Yoshimo took a long draught and belched happily as he settled the tankard back on the table.

Jeral shook his head tiredly as he eyed the bounty hunter, "I wish that was true Yoshimo. I have no real talent for magic. I struggle with all but the simplest of enchantments. I just wanted to use the time I had today to scribe some of the scrolls we found into our spell books. Nalia got most of the spells but I held some back for Imoen and myself. I scribed the most powerful of the spells into Imoen's spellbook for she is far more talented than I am."

Yoshimo nodded understandingly, "You miss her don't you?"

"I do, I really do Yoshimo. She is the only family I have left. It kills me to wait, knowing she is held against her will, but I need to be stronger – we all need to be stronger – to have any chance against this Irenicus."

Yoshimo shuddered involuntarily as he quickly took a drink of his ale to mask his discomfort. He locked eyes with Jeral and spoke with a quiet intensity, "Jeral of Candlekeep, know that I will give my life to ensure that you see your sister again. I swear this on my sister's soul."

"Thank you Yoshimo." Jeral nodded fondly at the bounty hunter as he started to close the spellbooks and clean up the pile of scrolls, quills and ink wells that littered the table. Jeral excused himself to return the items to his room. When he came back down to the table he saw that Minsc, Viconia, Kretor and Soreal had all joined Yoshimo at the table. Yoshimo was shuffling a deck of cards and trying to deal a card off the bottom of the deck. Soreal caught him every time and pointed out what he was doing incorrectly with his hands. In a huff Yoshimo sulked quietly as he tried to incorporate the tips she had provided him.

Jeral slid into his seat at the table and smiled at everyone. "Any word from Squire Anomen?"

Every shook their head in the negative. Soreal looked worriedly at the door, having positioned herself in the seat facing the main entrance of the tavern.

"Sunset is almost here so I am sure he will be back soon. He knows better than to be out on the street at night, even with Hendak's men escorting him."

Silence returned to the table as the group quietly sipped at their drinks and waited anxiously for the Helmite to return. Bernard came by and asked if the group was ready for dinner but they elected to wait for Anomen's arrival. To ensure they did not go hungry in the interim Bernard brought out a large platter full of cheeses, nuts, and sausage. Boo scampered over to the platter and helped himself to a large almosd and sat there munching on it contentedly. He seemed to be the only one unaffected but the worry that had settled over the table like a cloud.

Soreal started and leaned forward in her chair as Anomen stormed into the tavern, closely trailed by the four gladiators Hendak had assigned to escort him. Anomen looked wildly around the room, seeing Jeral and the others he strode rapidly to the table. His face was locked in a scowl and his entire body looked tensed and ready to explode.

"THOSE FOOLS DID NOTHING!"

Anomen slammed a fist down on the table, knocking glasses over. A silence fell over the dining room of the tavern. Anomen's voice, well trained from years on the drill field, carried well and echoed through the tavern.

Hendak hurried over and patted Anomen on the shoulder. "Welcome back good Anomen, may I suggest you all retire to my office? You may speak freely in there away from the ears of so many."

Seeing the wisdom on Hendak's words Anomen nodded and quickly strode off after Hendak. The others quickly got to their feet and followed, Jeral tossed a few coins on the table to cover the drinks. Even though Hendak promised they could drink for free for eternity Jeral always liked to leave something extra for the serving girls. A few coins mattered little to him in the scheme of things while they might make a great deal of difference to the women serving their drinks.

Hendak opened the door to his office and the group quickly settled around a table in the corner. "Make yourselves comfortable, I will have dinner and drinks brought to you and then ensure that you are not disturbed. This room is well made and warded to ensure no sound escapes, one of the helpful features that Lehtinen had put in place. Such a helpful fellow, it was almost a shame I had to kill him. Almost." Hendak smiled darkly at the memory of killing his former captor and departed the room.

Everyone took a seat save Anomen who paced the room with barely controlled rage. Everyone waited quietly until the food and drinks had arrived. Bernard and the staff had outdone themselves. Unbidden they had reserved rooms for Soreal and Kretor and handed them the keys, recognizing that it was unsafe for them to travel to their homes after dark. The staff placed a large platter in the center of the table. There was a large roast and a slab of venison on the tray surrounded by roasted carrots and potatoes. A large bowl of greens accompanied the platter as did bottles of blood wine, dark ale, and clean water. Everyone save Anomen served themselves while Anomen continued to pace. He was muttering darkly under his breath and finally stopped pacing. He took a few deep breaths and quietly slid into a chair between Jeral and Soreal. Clenching his fists tightly together Anomen took one last deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"The Order refused to help. Nalia remains a captive of the Roenall's at their estate." The anger was clear in his voice as was the frustration and worry.

"What happened when you met with the Order Anomen?" Jeral asked quietly. "What happened when the reviewed the ledger?"

"They declared it a forgery; they said a member of the nobility who also served as an officer in the militia could never do anything so despicable as to trade in slaves. They then destroyed the ledger to prevent 'slandering a good man.' Furthermore, the Order knows that someone attacked the Sea's Bounty and burned it to the ground. They suspect us for the crime. The warned that should the evidence implicate us they would have us arrested."

"Did you tell them you were recovering from your injuries when attacked by the Roenall guards?" Jeral asked indignantly.

"I did," Anomen replied quietly. "However that was of no import to them, for the official report claims I was drunk and attacking Lady Nalia in the street and that Isaea's guards merely defended her from me. Given my father's history of drinking and violence they are inclined to believe the worst in me I am afraid."

"How can they believe that? What of your years of loyal service as a Squire?"

Anomen shook his head sadly, "My reputation in the Order has always been a mixed one. As a priest of Helm I follow a different path than most Squires. Additionally, my father's reputation has always caused whispers behind my back, they wonder if the son always follows in the father's footsteps."

"That is ridiculous!" Jeral replied hotly, "You are not your father; you are your own man."

Anomen smiled grimly. "Aye, you speak the truth Jeral, but they will see what they will see. I might have still swayed them were it not for Sir Keldorn."

"The grey one denounced you for traveling with a Bhaalspawn and a drow didn't he?" Viconia asked quietly.

"How could you possibly know that?" Anomen gawked at the drow.

Viconia shrugged her shoulders and smiled a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. "I have met his kind before; it is consistent with his sense of law and order."

"It gets worse."

"How can it possibly get any worse?" Jeral asked morosely.

"Jeral in many ways you are just a child, no matter how bad things are it can always get worse." Viconia noted darkly.

Anomen nodded grimly. "Viconia speaks the truth of it. Not only did Sir Keldorn denounce me he then accused me of engaging in carnal relations with a 'foul drow temptress'."

Those around the table erupted in outrage, all save Viconia who snorted mockingly, "As if I would let Anomen into my bed!" She seemed to find the whole situation extremely amusing.

Minsc slammed a meaty fist down on the table and the room quieted immediately. He pushed himself to his feet and looked at each individual in turn before he spoke, his voice a rumble of barely contained rage. "Little Nalia must be rescued now. Anomen and I will lead the way and we will kick down the door to her prison and rescue her. All who stand in our way shall fall."

Anomen quickly rose and walked around to the other side of the table. After a moment's pause he embraced Minsc in a fierce hug and held it for a long moment. Stepping back he smiled at Minsc and motioned him to his seat. "Please be seated my friend. I appreciate your desire to rescue Nalia, and no one is braver and more loyal than you, but we cannot simply attack Lord Roenall's home. That would make us outlaws and Nalia is too good for such a life. I desperately want her free but we must think carefully before we strike."

Jeral appraised Anomen carefully and realized that he had matured greatly in a short time. He was far more open minded and thoughtful than he was when they first met. The table lapsed into silence as the group pondered next steps.

"We could sneak Nalia out of the estate in the dark of night." Yoshimo spoke quietly, but every eye in the room turned to look at the bounty hunter.

Anomen shook his head in frustration. "Stealth will not work. The Roenall estate is heavily guarded and they have enlisted the Cowled Wizards to aid them. I suspect the house is warded to detect anyone moving under a spell of invisibility or employing any sort of arcane magic."

"You misunderstand me good Helmite. I propose we slip something into their food, something odorless and tasteless and undetectable. Once it takes effect we stroll in and carry Nalia out."

Anomen blanched, "I will not condone poisoning an entire estate, that is murder on such a massive scale I am horrified you would even suggest it."

Yoshimo looked deeply insulted as he smirked at the younger man, "You misunderstand me good Squire. I am no monster, I do not condone murder in any form. However, in my profession I often have to make my targets more pliable, easier to transport. I am never without a few strong sleeping draughts. A simple handful of coins to the right servant, a vial slipped into the evening meal, and Nalia in your arms by sunrise."

Anomen smiled at the thought and nodded, "Your idea has some merit Yoshimo, it might work."

"Stop thinking like a lovesick fool Helmite," Viconia snapped. "There is no guarantee that everyone in the house will consume the evening meal. Also once some people start passing out they will raise an alarm and call for additional guards. Lastly and most importantly, if Nalia departs that house in a surreptitious manner of any kind she will be hunted for the rest of her life. As will we if they suspect our involvement."

"I will not leave Nalia as a prisoner of the Roenall's." Anomen spoke quietly but there was determination in his voice and a hint of desperation.

"Helmite, please know that Nalia will be returned to you in short order. Her kidnapping is an affront to a woman's rightful place in society. In my realm women rule, that is the rightful order of things. To see a woman such as Nalia held as chattel is an affront to all I hold dear."

"Viconia, that is all well and good but how can we free her." Jeral asked quietly.

"The key," Viconia said confidently, "is Lord Roenall, Isaea's father. We need to convince him to release Nalia from this marriage contract."

"Isaea will never agree to that." Anomen said sourly.

Viconia smiled knowingly. "I am sure he would not, that is why we will discuss this with the Lord Roenall himself and with Lord Roenall alone. We need to know when the father is home without the son."

"Isaea reports to the Council building most days for his role as a militia lieutenant," Kretor chimed in. "He should report to work tomorrow morning."

"So that is when Soreal and I will go visit Lord Roenall. Kretor, Yoshimo, can you two follow Isaea and ensure he does not return home unexpectedly? Nalia will need to be out of the house before he returns or else all is lost."

The pair nodded their agreement and departed the room to arrange a time to meet in the morning.

"Viconia, I must go with you."

Shaking her head the drow locked eyes with the Helmite, "Anomen, we need to handle this carefully. Men in this realm underestimate women, particularly attractive ones. Soreal and I can probably bend this male to our will but if you or any other man attends he will not act the same way. You must trust me in this, bending men to my will is something at which I excel."

"You speak wisely Viconia, and know that I trust you with my life. Thank you."

Viconia nodded once and then rose to her feet. Soreal and I have much to discuss, please excuse us. If all goes as planned we should have Nalia back by lunch tomorrow.

"What should the rest of us do?" Jeral inquired politely.

"Figure out a place for us to go. Once Nalia returns it would be for the best if we left town for some time to allow Isaea to get over the loss of his wife to be."

The next morning Yoshimo and Kretor slipped out of the Copper Coronet quietly and headed to the Roenall Estate to trail Isaea and ensure that he did not return to the estate unexpectedly. Viconia and Soreal enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and then departed for the Government District. The pair walked slowly towards the Roenall Estate, they chatted quietly and kept their eyes peeled for danger. The finally reached the Roenall Estate and as they approached the saw two guardsmen standing out front of the Estate. As the women approached the men stiffened and crossed their spears, barring entrance onto the property.

"Lord Roenall is not entertaining visitors today," one mumbled brusquely, "move along." Viconia removed her helm and handed it to Soreal. Both guards stared mouths agape at the white haired drow standing in front of them. Viconia crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Soreal stepped between Viconia and the guards and spoke in a subservient pleading voice, "Please good sirs, my mistress has business with Lord Roenall and she does not like to be kept waiting." The guards looked to one another for reassurance before the one on the left spoke again, "Lord Roenall is not entertaining visitors today, move along."

Soreal smiled shyly, the guard sounded less confident than he had moments before. "Good sirs, my mistress is drow as you can see, should the neighbors see her waiting outside the Roenall Estate is could be quite the scandal. Lord Roenall is sure to be wroth with you for causing him such embarassment."

One guard nodded to the other and they uncrossed their spears and opened the gate to the property.

"Please knock and state your business to the steward. He will take you to see Lord Roenall."

Soreal nodded her thanks while Viconia just looked disgusted and the pair calmly walked through the small garden to the entrance of the estate. Soreal knocked on the large ornate door that served as the entrance to the Roenall estate. The door was polished smooth and painted a light sky blue. Silver runes were etched across the door making it look like silver wisps of clouds floating across the sky. Soreal nudged Viconia with an elbow and motioned to the runes on the door, "Those are magical wards that likely prevent anyone from teleporting into or out of the home."

Viconia raised an eyebrow and looked at Soreal appraisingly, "You are a mage in additional to all of your other talents?"

Soreal nodded in the negative, "Nothing so impressive. I was breaking into a house early in my career and a magical trap almost killed me. Left some scars so that taught me I had best learn to detect and avoid magical traps. I found a friendly wizard who taught me how to detect and sometimes remove magical traps."

"Sounds like a helpful wizard," Viconia added.

"Oh he was," Soreal allowed herself a quick chuckle, "and he had a few other talents that I put to good use as well."

Shaking herself out of her reverie Soreal pulled on the gilded chain next to the door. The sound of chimes tinkling echoed through the house. Within moments the ornate door opened and the women were face to face with an elderly man in a high collared scarlet robe that indicated he was the steward of the Roenall Estate. His wrinkled face was pinched and his lips were pursed in a pouty frown. His long grey hair cascaded down past his shoulders in back while the hair in the front and on the sides was tied up in a top knot. A small silver whistle hung around his neck on a matching chain. He looked the women up and down and a look of distaste spread across his face.

"Lord Roenall is not entertaining guests today, I have no idea why the guards allowed you to pass. Theirs was an error I will correct. Begone." The steward's voice was surprisingly high pitched and dripped with disdain as he started to shut the door in their face.

The indignity was too much for Viconia to stand. The drow cleric slid forward and stopped the door from closing. She then quickly placed her left hand on the back of the steward's head. Grasping a handful of greasy hair she pulled the man's head forward until their foreheads were touching.

In a harsh whisper Viconia growled at the man, her words dripping with implied violence. Shuddering in fear the steward nodded obediently as his face paled. Looking down Viconia stepped back quickly as a stain started spreading in the middle of the man's robes.

"I…I…I will fetch Lord Roenall straight away Mistress DeVir. Please wait in the sitting room." The steward pointed an unsteady arm to a pair of sliding double doors on his left. He then turned on a heel and raced away, quickly bounding up the stairs with the energy of a much younger man. Soreal looked at Viconia inquiringly and raised an inquiring eyebrow at Viconia, "Dare I ask what you said to that poor man?"

"Nothing too interesting, I did not want to kill the old man so I tempered my words. I just told him if Lord Roenall was not standing in front of me quickly I would skin him alive and then serve him his own cooked man parts."

Fighting back a smile Soreal nodded severely as she eyed the drow, "I am glad you took it easy on him, I cannot imagine how he might have reacted if you did not." Looking pleased with herself Viconia opened the sliding doors, strolled across the room to a sideboard, and poured herself a glass of blood wine from a crystal bottle with a platinum stopper. Viconia took a deep drink and sighed contentedly.

"Lord Roenall has excellent taste, this is exceptional wine. You must try it." Soreal strode over to the sideboard and laid Viconia's helm next to the decanter. Viconia poured a second glass, handed it to Soreal, and then topped off her own glass. Clinking their glasses together the ladies each sipped at the wine as they waited for Lord Roenall to arrive.

They did not have long to wait, they were both quietly sipping their wine when Lord Roenall angrily strode into the room trailed by six soldiers in the house livery. The steward cowered behind the last guardsman, his face white and trembling as he looked into the room. He raised a trembling arm as he eyed Viconia and cried out in a trembling voice, "There is the beast my lord! She threatened me with death, she must be an assassin."

Lord Roenall quietly appraised the two women for a long moment and Soreal and Viconia took the time to make an assessment of Lord Roenall. He was of middle age, his long dark hair starting to show streaks of silver. He wore it unbound and it reached past the top of his shoulders. Soreal knew it was not a hairstyle considered fashionable by the nobility, as they consistently tried new looks to maintain a 'sophisticated' air about them. Clearly Lord Roenall was his own man. His face was handsome and the lines from age served to make him look more distinguished not less. Despite the weathered features his eyes were bright blue and seemed alive with youthful laughter.

Taller than Anomen he towered over the two women. He was solidly built and looked like a man who could defend himself when needed. He wore a dark green shirt with billowing sleeves and silver laces in the front. His shirt was tucked into a pair of dark brown trousers and a pair of well polished black riding boots completed the outfit. A red leather sword belt encircled his trim waist and a pair of blades hung from the left side of the scabbard. A heavy cutlass hung low on the belt with a long fighting knife in a scabbard just behind it. The pommels of both blades were devoid of any ornamentation and showed signs of frequent use.

Pursing his lips slightly he dismissed his guards, closed the sliding doors behind him and strode into the room. "That is excellent blood wine my ladies, and it is extremely expensive. I see that you have excellent taste in wine and terrible manners as guests in a man's home. Traditionally a lady should wait for the host to pour." Lord Roenall strode over to the sideboard and picked up the decanter. He then topped off their glasses before pouring his own. He drank deeply and sighed contentedly, "I know it is frowned upon but there is something special about having a drink well before mid day, and looking at the two of you I suspect I will need a few additional drinks before our conversation is over."

"Lord Roenall," Soreal began. "Please my dear, call me Farthy."

"Farthy," Viconia snorted, "what kind of name is that?"

Lord Roenall flashed a set of sparkling white teeth, "Why my full given name is Farthington, and it is the name my parents bestowed upon me so I would thank you for respecting their choice."

Viconia snapped her mouth shut and started at the man in amazement for it was rare that one got the better of her in a conversation. Soreal sipped her wine and allowed the silence to build, knowing that most people could not stand silence and would start talking just to fill the awkward void.

Apparently Lord Roenall had the same knowledge for he just sipped his wine contentedly and leveled his gaze on the pair of women in front of him. The silence stretched onwards as the trio sipped their wine; finally Viconia lost her patience and had to speak. "We are here for the Lady Nalia; she is here against her will. You will release her to us."

Lord Roenall did not look surprised in the least by Viconia's command; in fact he seemed totally unaffected by it. Sighing heavily he drained his glass and set it down on the side board. "My dear Viconia DeVir, I will not release Lady Nalia to you two for release would imply she is held against her will. I assure you she is not; she is scheduled to wed my eldest son, Isaea."

Viconia snarled and took a half step towards Lord Roenall, "I demand that we see her now."

Roenall merely smiled as he eyed the diminutive drow. "Ladies, you are in no position to threaten me, particularly in my own home. I have a dozen highly trained men who can be in here in an instant. I am also somewhat proficient with a blade myself so I am unlikely to cower as easily as my poor steward. Besides," he smiled broadly, "I remember when you were almost burned at the stake not so very long ago. I am sure the authorities would love to spend some time with you." Viconia's hand slid to the head of the war hammer hanging at her side. Lord Roenall's eyes flickered to the weapon and then his gaze quickly returned to staring at Soreal and Viconia.

Sighing heavily Lord Roenall shook his head tiredly. "I see that you will not be easily turned from your path. Very well, I will grant your silly request only so I can avoid having to stain my good carpets with your blood. Besides I have yet to formally welcome the Lady Nalia into my home." Lord Roenall whistled shrilly and the doors quickly slid open. The elderly steward reappeared, now attired in a dark grey set of robes that were trimmed in scarlet. "Fetch our guest," Roenall commanded in a quiet voice. The steward nodded his head and quickly slid the doors shut.

Within moments the doors opened and the steward quickly stood aside as Nalia walked tentatively into the room. Once she had entered the room the steward quickly slid the doors closed once again. Nalia was formally dressed in a long scarlet dress with a high neck and long sleeves made of layers of fine lace. The dress was longer than floor length and dragged behind her as she shuffled into the room, eyes downcast, hands clasped together around a set of green ribbon. Her pale blond hair, normally a but unruly and worn down, was towering above her head looking like an ornate birds nest. Dozens of silver pins held the massive tower of hair in place.

"You summoned me Lord Roenall?" Nalia intoned dully as she started at her feet, the picture of a submissive woman.

"Yes my dear, I did. And no need to be so formal, you can call me dad. I am sorry that I have not had the time to receive you since you arrive in my house." Lord Roenall responded in a gentle voice. "I should have made time earlier but that is all in the past. You also have visitors, some friends of yours have come by to pay their respects."

"They have?" Nalia asked quietly as she slowly, cautiously, raised her head. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she locked eyes with Viconia, her gaze quickly moved to Soreal but then returned to stare at Viconia, her eyes wide in silent desperation. Sensing her fear Viconia smiled and spoke in a reassuring voice, "You are safe dear. We are going to take you home."

"How is Anomen?" Nalia blurted, "Is he alive?"

"Squire Anomen is fine; he is as pompous and annoying as ever and is eagerly awaiting your return."

"But he was beaten so badly by Isaea and his guards, I thought he was going to die."

"Now what nonsense is this? I heard this drunken sot attacked my son and Nalia."

Nalia shook her head angrily as her entire body stiffened and she locked eyes with Lord Roenall, All traces of submissiveness gone, Nalia thrust her shoulders back and held her chin hish as she locked eyes with Lord Roenall.

"Your son Isaea lies my Lord. Anomen and I were out for a lovely walk when we were attacked by Isaea and his personal household guard. Two of them held me back while the other ten beat Anomen with the flats of their swords and then kicked him until he passed out."

"She speaks the truth Farthy." Viconia sneered. "I personally cared for him else he would have died from his injuries. Your son and his men attacked a man out walking with his lady friend."

Lord Roenall shook his head stubbornly, "I know my son is hot tempered, and his personal guards are an unsavory lot, but I cannot imagine they would do such a thing."

"Hot tempered?" Nalia asked angrily, her voice rising. "Hot tempered? Your son is an absolute monster Lord Roenall!" Nalia was red faced and shouting as she turned to face Isaea's father. She grabbed the ornate lacy sleeve on her left arm and pulled violently until the sleeve tore off at the shoulder seams. She repeated the action on the right sleeve and tossed the sleeves to the floor. Once her arms were uncovered she held them out for Lord Roenall's inspection.

Soreal sucked in her breath as she started at Nalia's arms. The upper arms were black and blue and showed the marks where someone had violently squeezed them.

"What happened to your arms my dear?" Lord Roenall's voice cracked with concern as he looked fondly at Nalia.

"Your shite of a son happened," Nalia raged at Lord Roenall. "He came to my room one night in an attempt to 'claim his rights.' Needless to say I fought back. He did not respond well to my resistance."

Lord Roenall shook his head stubbornly. My boy would not do this to a woman, that is not our way. I treated his mother like the treasure she was."

"You are blind to your son's true nature," Nalia sneered as she ripped the high collar off her dress. Nalia's neck was also black and blue and clearly displayed hand marks where someone had choked her almost to death. "Last night Isaea tried again and this time he made his plan plain, he planned to have his way with me after he choked me almost to death. It was all I could do to resist him. I was fortunate to get in a good strike to his groin. That took the wind out of his sails and caused him to break off the attack and flee like the coward that he is."

Lord Roenall staggered backwards and seated himself in a high backed chair by the fireplace. He placed his head in his hands and mumbled quietly to himself. Viconia strode over to examine Nalia and the young women hugged her fiercely, tears streaming down her face. "Is Anomen really well?" Nalia sobbed. Viconia nodded reassuringly and let Nalia rest against her as the tears wracked her body.

"Lord Roenall," Soreal began formally, "you have a reputation as a just and fair man. Your son is shaming your family name. He has attacked an honorable man and held a good woman against her will. For her own safety Nalia needs to leave with us."

"But the wedding," he began haltingly.

"There will NEVER be a wedding!" Nalia roared as she disengaged from Viconia'a arms and moved to stand before Lord Roenall's chair. "If you force me to go through with this farce I will kill your son at the first opportunity. Despite his best efforts to keep me from my craft I still have a few spells memorized." Nalia held her hands up in front of her face and electricity crackled as it flowed from one hand to another. The electricity bathed the room in blue light and made the bruises on Nalia's arms and face look even more painful.

"Thanks to my Aunt, and the rules of inheritance, you have already claimed my family lands and all of its incomes. You will never claim me. I would consider your decision carefully my Lord."

"Nalia," Lord Roenall pleaded, "think of the scandal if the marriage is cancelled. What will people say? How will it look?"

"How will it look? How will it look? You think I care how it will look? My father is dead, my ancestral lands are gone. The man I love was brutally attacked, I was kidnapped and brutalized by your son and you are worried how it will look?"

Nalia stood red faced and raged as Lord Roenall slumped back in his chair.

"If I do not walk out of this house a free woman immediately I will devote the rest of my life to embarrassing this house."

Regaining her composure she took a deep breath and walked to stand next to Viconia. "Besides," she continued in a calm quiet voice, "I am a woman now, no longer a maid, so any marriage contract is null and void."

Lord Roenall looked up confused, "I thought you said you resisted my son's advances."

Nalia smiled tightly, "I defended myself from his attacks but Squire Anomen beat him to my maidenhead. I gave it to him willingly and we plan to wed."

"Right then." Lord Roenall rose to his feet and helped himself to another glass of wine. Once he gulped it down he continued, "Lady Nalia, you must believe that I had no idea you did not support this arranged marriage. Both your Aunt and my son assured me you were a willing and blushing bride. I see I was misled." He whistled shrilly once again and the steward slid open the doors. "Collect up Nalia's things. She will be leaving us."

"My Lord?"

"You heard me Malthus. Gather her things."

"My Lord, forgive me but your son ordered me to ensure she remains in the house while he is out."

"My son does not rule here!" Lord Roenall roared as his steward and flung his wineglass to explode on the door frame to the side of Malthus. In a quieter voice Lord Roenall continued, "My son is too impressed with his station in this household and sometimes forgets himself. Get all of Lady Nalia's things and bring them here quickly." Malthus nodded and slid the doors closed again.

"My apologies for the display of temper, that was poorly done." Lord Roenall walked over to the fireplace and started into the cold hearth.

Nalia turned her back on Lord Roenall and walked over to stand close to Viconia. Soreal stepped forward to join them and the three whispered amongst themselves.

"Is Anomen really well?" Nalia asked as her brow creased in worry.

"Do we dare trust Lord Roenall?" Soreal asked worriedly.

"Definitely," Nalia nodded confidently, "he is an honorable man to his bones."

"But how does that explain the behavior of his sons?" Soreal asked.

Nalia shrugged her shoulders, "I do not know. I know when their mother died he denied them nothing as a way to make up for their loss. Perhaps that is where they went astray. It matters not to me. I have been waiting to see Lord Roenall without his sons to plead my case so this went as I hoped."

Within moments Malthus returned with a trail of serving ladies who carried pile of pile of clothes and jewels into the sitting room. They laid them out on the chairs and side tables in the room and hastily withdrew. Nalia started digging through the piles of clothing until she found her pale green mage robes. With a quick squeal of delight Nalia started ripping off her formal scarlet dress. Lord Roenall quickly faced the wall and muttered uncomfortably while Nalia stripped to her underthings and then clothed herself in her mage robes. Sighting contently she strapped on her belt over the robes and checked to see that her dagger, spell component pouch and coin purse were where she left them. She found her wand under a pile of necklaces and twirled it around in her fingers.

"I have missed my wand, I feel whole again." Nalia tucked the wand up into her sleeve and then located her hose and high soft leather boots. Once she had them on her feet she looked through the piles of clothing and jewelry and shrugged. "None of this is mine." She started pulling the silver pins from her hair and tossing them onto the floor. Within moments her hair was an unruly mess as it tumbled down around her shoulders.

Lord Roenall glanced over his shoulder and finding Nalia fully clothed turned back around. "I purchased all of those clothes and jewelry for you my dear. I was so looking forward to having a daughter."

Nalia looked at Lord Roenall with a small smile on her face. She strode over and hugged him, "I believe you are an honorable man. My father had no love for you but did say you were an honorable man and always fair. You have demonstrated that today. Please know that I do not blame the father for the son."

Lord Roenall nodded and then strode over to a large desk that was sitting against the wall between floor to ceiling bookshelves. He quickly pulled out parchment pen and ink and started writing. When he was done he sprinkled sand over the documents to absorb the excess ink. He then placed a blob of red wax at the bottom of each document and pushed his large signet ring into it, leaving an imprint of his family seal. He then rolled up the scrolls, tied them with scarlet ribbons and handed them to Nalia.

"Have one delivered to the Council building and keep the other two copies for yourself. These documents dissolve the arranged marriage between you and Isaea. The authorities will not trouble you."

"What about Isaea?" Nalia asked sharply.

Lord Roenall shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I cannot say my dear. Your friends killed his guards... and I thank them for that," he added hastily as he noticed Soreal tense and place a hand on her rapier.

"Without his men he stands alone, so I will tell him to obey my wishes and hope that he listens. I cannot promise he will listen but I will do my best."

"Fair enough." Nalia agreed. "But please know that is he crosses paths with me again I will kill him."

"I believe that you would my dear, I believe that you would."

Lord Roenall nodded approvingly at the young girl. "You truly are your father's daughter Lady Nalia and I am sure you will do what you have to do and that you will do so with honor. It is a pity that my son was not a man worth of your affection. Please give my regards to Squire Anomen, he sounds like a fine young man who is worthy of your affection."

"He is." Nalia said simply.

Without a backward glance she turned and departed the house trailed by Viconia and Soreal.