Cimmera gave Valen brief directions to the master bedroom and then turned her attention back to supper preparations. With the help of Bessera she found a large wheel of aged cheese in the walk-in pantry and sent Gabriel out with the boys to collect some more of the fresh vegetables from the gardens. "No sense in it going to waste," she explained briskly.
They came back with cauliflower, peas and green beans. She had seen a pen of goats while out collecting the geese and decided to send Bessera to milk one or two of the animals so that they might have fresh milk with supper. She also mentioned that she could make a lovely cauliflower au gratin if she had milk to go with the cheese and cauliflower. When the girl hesitated fearfully, the High Priestess sent Gabriel to keep watch over the girl and, with a stern look at the paladin, lend a hand should it be needed.
Then she turned her attention to making several loaves of fresh bread, humming to herself as she worked the dough. She divided it into portions and mixed cheese and herbs into one portion, some savory seeds and garlic into another, then left the final portion plain. Thus she kept everyone busy, especially Gabriel under the guise of preparing a veritable feast.
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Meanwhile Valen had gently guided Hypatia up to the room. He scowled, noting the careful way she moved; her exhaustion almost overwhelming her. There was indeed a large bathing tub that had been placed before what had once been a roaring fire in a large hearth. Now the fire had mellowed and the water was steaming gently.
Looking over to the tub and the painted screen that stood half obscuring it from the view of the rest of the room, Hypatia smiled.
"That looks heavenly," she murmured. "But first," she turned and gently touched one of the wounds he'd received in the recent battle, "I should tend to your wounds."
Valen took her hand and kissed it, shaking his head, "You should rest first. I've nothing but a few scratches. You are exhausted, my love."
She hesitated, looking up into his amazing blue eyes then nodded. She really should have taken a few days to recover from her recent head injury but circumstances had prevented that. The bourgeoning headache developing on the side of her head where she'd had her skull cracked worried her almost as much as the odd look into the past she'd gotten from using her vision.
While normally she would pull the screen farther around the tub, such was her weariness that she simply started taking off her priestess robe on her way to the beckoning water. Once there and unclothed she eased into the water with a sigh of contentment.
Watching her until she was in her bath, Valen then pulled the screen around for her. At first he thought he'd simply keep watch while she bathed and then rested. Setting his pack on a nearby table he tugged the leather thong out of his hair, letting it fall loose around his face and shoulders. With a few minutes to relax he decided to change out of his battle stained clothes and into clothes that were at least clean. Tia had picked him up a pair of leather breeches to replace the rough homespun he normally wore, stating that they were more durable. While that was true, he suspected she also liked the way they looked on him.
He had just grabbed his peasant's tunic when he realized he hadn't heard a sound from Tia. Pausing he turned one pointed ear towards the bath to listen, tunic in his off-hand. After a few minutes of utter silence he took a peek around the screen. Hypatia was dangerously near to dosing off in her bath.
Worried that she might indeed fall asleep in her bath, and possibly drown; he strode over and grabbed a chair which he wedged underneath the door handle barring it from the inside. He considered briefly how to keep her awake.
"Might we speak?" He fell back on the formality, uncertain how to broach the topic but wanting to get her talking so as to keep her awake during her bath. There was no answer and after an unbearable wait he peered around the screen again.
His suspicions were confirmed, her eyes were closed and her head was slowly dropping towards the water. He moved with lightening speed to get to her before she could slip under the surface of the water.
He straightened with her cradled close to him, her wet skin pressed to his. Warm water cascaded off of her, trickling over his abdomen. The movement woke her if not fully then enough, because she pressed a warm, moist kiss to the side of his neck while her scent filled his nostrils.
The song of desire rose in his blood like a flame threatening to overwhelm his senses with want. The knowledge that she was more than willing wasn't helping the tenuous grip he was keeping on control. The song sang in his blood whenever she was in his sight. It made him want to throttle the other tiefling; watching her tend to that interloper's injuries had tested his patience. He'd kill that other tiefling for looking at her. The song she created in his blood made him want to bash that idiot paladin's head in, rip out his heart and offer it to her on a platter for daring to lay an uncivil hand on her. He'd kill that spineless paladin.
She ran one long, delicate finger up the sensitive edge of one ear and he wanted to claim her as his own. He closed his eyes against all the thoughts of what he wanted to do with her… and to her. She was his woman. He'd take her somewhere where she'd be his and his alone.
She wasn't a possession, a prize to keep; the rational part of his mind overrode the primal music singing in his veins. He held onto control with the iron will that had seen him through countless battles in the blood wars. The indomitable will that had seen him across the planes to find The Seer when other, lesser men might have given into despair; considering the task to be impossible even hopeless, rose against elemental desire and won.
She was exhausted and possibly wounded. She needed rest and cosseting, not the wild lovemaking he wanted to engage in. "Tia," the hoarseness of his voice betrayed him. He needed to distract her. If he loved her now he might aggravate her injuries, further hurting her.
"Yes, beloved?" she pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat and flicked her tongue over the curve of his collar bone, making a hopeful trilling sound in her throat.
Valen clenched his jaw, as if the sensation of her breath on his skin, her tongue on his skin weren't enough; that trilling sound she made drove him wild. He didn't know how she did it but it made him break out in a sweat as a haze of desire filled his mind. If he didn't find a way to distract her right this instant he'd take her pressed up against the stonework wall.
"Your vision, my love," He gritted out, clinging to the words like a drowning man to a bit of driftwood, "What did you see in your vision?"
The effect on her was immediate and he drew in a deep breath as he felt her withdraw emotionally before she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.
She was quiet for so long he was afraid she'd fallen asleep nestled against him. Just as he was about to turn and place her on the bed she spoke. Her voice was quiet and betrayed a bone deep weariness, "My vision has always, ever… shown me what is likely to be important in the future."
He moved to set her down in a chair, instinctively knowing she wouldn't want to discuss this while laying in bed. When he tried to release her she clung to him, clearly disturbed by her vision. Of course holding her while she was, albeit delightfully, naked would test his resolve. He reached for a towel to wrap her in and then settled down with her in the chair. She rested her head on his broad shoulder and began to speak.
The tale she told disturbed him deeply. It was a tale of a war torn battle field from the depths of the blood wars, told so graphically that he could smell the blood and taste the battle frenzy. At first he too wondered if they'd be sent back there or if she was just seeing something that had shaped a friend or foe they were about to encounter. It was only when she began to describe the barracks, or perhaps stables would be a better term that he felt a chill of ice crawl up his spine.
He had little memory of his time spent in the hells. Most of it had been spent in a battle frenzy, a red haze of blood lust and survival. But he remembered that place and when to his horror, his Hypatia described the woman, he knew. He knew it before she spoke of the shift in vision.
"No!" In a swift fluid movement, part denial part desperation he stood, depositing her in the chair. He then turned his back on her, striding away. She couldn't have seen him like that. He'd been a beast. She couldn't love a beast.
"I…" Hypatia hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "I broke out of the vision as soon as I realized…" She tucked the towel in around herself and stood, reaching out to him.
He jerked away when she touched him and strode over to face the stonework wall near the fire. "You don't know what I was like. Even that little bit isn't enough for you to understand." He'd never wanted her to even see him like that. "You don't know what I was."
She looked at him standing tensely there his shoulders hunched, then hurried over to him; slipping between him and the wall. His eyes were shut and an expression of self loathing mixed with pain twisted his dear face. "I know that a core of who you are has always been there…beloved."
"No!" He gripped her waist and lifted her up, pushing her against the wall. Raising his eyes he forced her to look at him, trying to make her see him for what he was underneath the veneer of civilization. His expression fierce, his teeth clenched and his lips pulled back. "She was a slave. She had no choice."
"She loved you," Hypatia answered gently, looking into his glowing red eyes. "You know that. You know that's why she was murdered."
"She couldn't have loved me. You can't love me. What is it? Tieflings excite you?"
Hypatia gasped, surprise and a flash of hurt flickered over her face before she visibly dismissed it and schooled her expression. "She loved you and I love you. Don't let your self loathing destroy what you are and what you have."
He closed his eyes, his expression tortured. She couldn't understand what she'd seen. She was too exhausted. When she'd rested and had time to really think about it she would see him for the beast he had been and then she would turn away from him. As she should, he reminded himself furiously. She shouldn't let his taint mar her goodness. For now though, she still believed she loved him. He kissed her with fierce desperation his heart nearly breaking when she welcomed him, returning his kisses with those of her own.
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In the kitchen the hearths all blazed with cheery fires and soon the scents of roasting fowl and baking cheeses filled the spacious room. Cimmera hummed as she began mixing up the ingredients for a nice sweet to follow the meal. She hoped that her clueless sister and that stubbornly honorable tiefling love of hers were making up for lost time during the few short hours she'd bought for them.
Glancing up she gave Gabriel a narrow eyed look, might be best if she distracted him from speculating about what might be, hopefully was, going on in that upstairs room. Also, it was far past time he started thinking about his actions in a constructive way.
It was also, she noted Deekin edging towards the door, a good idea to distract that shameless kobold bard or the world might get to read more about Hypatia's love life than anyone had any right to.
Handing the batter she'd made off to Bessera and giving the girl instructions on how to pour it into small baking dishes, she wiped her hands on her apron and considered what to say. Finally she nodded, a gesture uncannily like her twin's when she had reached a decision. "Tell me, Gabriel," She began and knew a moment of perverse satisfaction at the startled reaction addressing him caused.
Gabriel looked at the High Priestess warily. He didn't know what to expect any more and he was ashamed that they thought he would hurt Hypatia again. He had grudgingly admitted in the quietness of his own mind that he had done nothing to earn their trust but it still rankled. He was a paladin. They should trust him implicitly.
After a pause during which Cimmera weighed his demeanor against what she wanted to say, she continued, "Why did you choose to become a Paladin?"
This he was not expecting; not at all. He frowned and struggled to come up with some kind of an answer. "I wanted to be a force of good in the world, to face my foes with valor and honor." Not only was it true, it sounded good too.
"Why?" Cimmera asked.
He frowned even more deeply, "Because…well because good is good. It's honorable and noble and is an ideal that everyone should strive for."
"Why?" The High Priestess repeated the question. By now all three children and one rapidly writing Kobold were paying close attention to every word.
Gabriel rose from the stool, confused as he struggled to come up with an answer. He was equal parts hurt, that she should question him like this; and angry that she expected so much of him. "Well, to…to rid the world of evil."
Cimmera shrugged, "Why?"
"Evil is selfish and cruel." He felt adrift, what was it she expected of him? Did not she, as a High Priestess of a goodly Goddess know the answers?
"What's so bad about that?" Cimmera pressed on relentlessly.
Gabriel looked at her as if he could somehow divine the answer she was looking for from her eyes. There was nothing he could read in the aqua depths so he struggled to put into words ideas he'd never spent much time on before.
"It's bad because…cruelty damages lives" He stopped giving her a helpless look. Then he tried again, "Because damaging lives spreads a darkness that seeks to snuff out the light of life. Because life is precious and should be protected, not debased and destroyed." He finished and felt relieved. This seemed like a very good explanation.
"So," Cimmera slowly stepped around him, looking him over as she did, "pain and darkness and torment are bad. Order and…well, what would be the opposite of pain or torment? Kindness? Love? Are good?"
He drew in a deep breath and smiled, "Yes. That would be right."
She stopped in front of him and looked up, looking him in the eye, "Then what is so bad about Hypatia showing kindness to those who may have never known such a thing before? And what about treating Hypatia like her life should be protected?" The High Priestess had to work to keep from adding any number of cutting observations. She wanted to show Gabriel what he had done, not brow beat him. But it was hard.
Gabriel gaped at her, horrified. He opened and closed his mouth once or twice then gave up and retreated to his corner and sat down. He had a lot to think about and he was honest enough to admit that thinking wasn't his strong suit.
Once the cakelets were put into the baking hearth there wasn't much to do while dinner cooked, save clean up and Cimmera ruthlessly drafted Gabriel to do the dishes. An assignment that prompted hidden giggles from the children. Once everything was tidied up and the dishes dried and put away Cimmera enjoined Deekin to read a bit from his first book The Shadows Of Undrentide. The tale would, she thought entertain the children, educate Gabriel a bit about Hypatia and generally fill the time while supper finished cooking. Of course not much of the epic could be read in a few short hours but the story was well started when she stood and began removing the roasted geese from the spits and setting them onto serving platters to rest while she had Bessera make gravy. Gabriel got pressed into mashing potatoes and turnips while she set the younger boys to setting the large kitchen table.
Valen lay on the floor near the fire, Hypatia sleeping sprawled across his broad chest. Having spent most of his life sleeping on the ground or the floor somewhere he often found beds uncomfortably soft. Tia had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep almost as soon as they'd finished their lovemaking and he had been loath to wake her to put her into the bed. And not just because it was likely that she'd start with those trills that drove him wild with desire if he did wake her. Rather he'd just slowly settled to the floor and lay there with her in his arms.
Once again he gently traced the curve of her lips with his fingers. He still couldn't believe she was smiling in her sleep. For how long though? She'd seen him as he had been, as a beast. She had watched him on the battlefield as a battle slave, sowing death and reveling in gore and destruction. At some point she would realize what he was, she would see the taint on his soul and in his blood. How long before her love turned to revulsion?
A sharp rap sounded on the wooden door, still braced shut by the chair he'd wedged under the doorknob. "Supper is served. Wake my sister and come join us. You both need to eat," Cimmera's voice was a welcome distraction from the direction his thoughts had taken him while Tia had slept.
Hypatia stirred and Valen stroked her hair, following the silken locks down her back. "It is time to wake, my love," he woke her.
Her eyes fluttered open and she pushed herself up to look at him, her hair falling in a cascade around her shoulders and onto him. He recognized the wanting in her playful look and regretfully said, "Your sister said that supper is ready and we are to join them for the meal."
She gave him an exaggerated pout before dropping a quick kiss on his lips and getting up. She brushed her hair and looked around for a few fruitless minutes for her priestess robe.
Valen watched her while getting dressed himself. Finally he handed her the trous and tunic her sister had given him to give her to wear. "Your sister didn't approve of your priestess robe," he offered with the hint of a smile.
She quirked her lips and shook her head in mock exasperation while taking the garments. She muttered something under her breath dressing quickly. The trous were leather and fit like a second skin, emphasizing her narrow waist and the soft curve of her hips. The tunic was a vibrant turquoise and had a deeply cowelled neckline that emphasized her finely boned shoulders and graceful neck. The color made her eyes look like green gemstones and complimented her pale complexion. There was an embroidered belt that cinched the tunic around her waist and showed off the hourglass figure that Hypatia regularly hid under her shapeless priestess robes.
Stepping past him to the door she stopped, pivoted and with a warm, mischievous smile wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him an open mouthed kiss that had him pulling her against him, wrapping his arms around her back and hips.
They stepped into the kitchen, Valen quickly pulled his hair back and securing it at the nape of his neck. He couldn't stop the flush that rose to tinge the tips of his ears and colored his cheeks at the knowing look Cimmera gave them. That and everyone save the unconscious tiefling were halfway through their meal already gave mute testimony to the fact that he and Tia had not come right to supper when called.
A quick glance showed Tia blushing prettily beside him. Valen put himself deliberately between her and Gabriel who was glaring at them over his plate of roast goose and potatoes and gravy. Hypatia took a breath and glanced around the room, falling into her efficient priestess role with ease. She bustled over to the table and chose a large platter upon which she put a mound of potatoes, gravy, peas, turnips and a whole goose. Choosing a place near Deekin and her sister she set the platter down and indicated that Valen should take a seat and eat.
Then she fixed a second platter almost the same and moved to set it on the low table next to the bed where the other tiefling still lay unconscious. Throwing a glance to Cimmera she asked in a hushed voice, "Has he stirred at all?"
"No, dear, "Cimmera answered. She got up to fix a plate for her sister, setting it next to Valen. "Don't be too long tending your patient or your supper will get cold."
Hypatia quirked her lips at her sister in mild annoyance, well aware of the tactic being used to keep her from spending too much time fussing over the injured man. "I need to change the bandages and wake him up. Look at him," she gestured to the unconscious tiefling, "he's way too thin for his size. I'd bet he hasn't eaten his fill in as long as he can remember."
Valen paused, a bite of goose and gravy half way to his mouth and looked at Tia; reminded once again that not only did she listen to him, but she also paid attention to what he said. Her astute observation of the other tiefling brought the point home and returned his thoughts to his darker worries about what she thought of her vision of him.
Gabriel watched them closely. He did not like the way they were behaving. He didn't like the sudden ideas that were assaulting him after those two had been left alone for several hours. When Cimmera had commanded Valen to stand guard over Hypatia it had seemed like the logical thing to do. Now, he wasn't so sure.
As soon as Hypatia touched the injured foot of the latest addition to their little group he woke, jerking his foot away from her, grunting with pain.
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My body pulsed with pain and I could feel the fever in my blood. Someone touched my foot and searing hot shards of pain shot up my leg. I flinched away with a snarl that came out more like a pained grunt.
"I'm not dead yet, foolish thieves and cutthroats." I snarled twisting away. It was only then that memory returned to me. I focused my sight and there, near my foot sat the pretty little priestess. Only she wasn't hiding in drab, voluminous robes now. Not at all, now she was wearing clothes that fit well and displayed her comely figure for all to see. I deliberately leered at her, hoping to set her on edge just a bit.
There were so many scents in the room I could barely sort them out. The healer gestured towards my side and I looked over to see a platter holding a whole goose set there. Shocked I turned to question her, disbelief writ on my face. Then I cursed myself for giving myself away when she smiled and nodded, indicating that I should begin my meal. I hesitated for maybe half a breath, trying to assert my control before snatching the platter and tearing into the meat. It was delicious, the savory odor filled my nostrils and I ate and ate.
I don't know if it was because it was the first meal I'd had in days or if it was due to the cooking skills of the priestess but the food was the best I'd ever eaten. I ate the whole goose myself, glaring around to see if anyone was looking to see if I would share.
I wouldn't share. It was mine. The gravy was good and I ate all of the side dishes too. I ate until my stomach groaned. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been allowed to eat all I wanted to. The last time I'd had plenty of jink, whenever that was.
Once I'd eaten everything on the platter I sat back, scratching under the joint of one wing and belched loudly. The healer had changed the bandaging on my foot and returned to her own supper and I hadn't even noticed.
Now she regarded me with a stern look, that single eyebrow raised. I grinned, deliberately showing my sharp canines. If she wanted to eat in more genteel company then she'd do well to avoid tieflings as dinner companions. I belched again for good measure and looked around the large kitchen. That meal could do with a tankard of cool ale to wash it down. I eyed the priestesses speculatively, with two holy women in attendance strong drink was probably right out.
My stomach full and the shooting pain in my foot finally starting to subside I leaned back and began to pick my teeth with a knife. Now that the odors of the food weren't so compelling I was able to turn my attention to the other scents in the kitchen. The pretty little priestess's scent had changed and I found it slightly confusing. Sometimes bathing could change a person's scent but this was different.
She came over to collect my plate and the goose carcass and I leaned over and grabbed her hand, pulling it up to my nose to inhale her scent. She jerked back but I was stronger. She was about to whack me with the platter when I let her go shocked once again. She carried the scent of the blood on her skin.
I looked over to where he had risen to his feet, that wicked looking flail already in his hands. Once again my expression telegraphed disbelief but I found it unthinkable. She was a priestess…he was blood. He growled at me and striding over placed a protective arm before her, ushering her back away from me. He carried her scent with him too!
I opened my mouth then blinked. This was interesting indeed. I shook myself, shaking my wings out when they twitched from stress and then grinned up at him. Very deliberately I leered at her again. Glancing at him I saw his eyes ignite, changing from blue to red in an instant and I knew he'd like nothing more than to crush my skull.
Before there could be bloodshed, probably mine, the pretty spoke.
"I'll heal him in the morning, after I've rested fully. Then we will move on Farquhar's position. He won't be expecting us so soon and his priesthood won't have had time to conjure up another unholy army."
"What of the children, dear?" Cimmera asked quietly from where she was teaching the girl to knit with some needles and yarn they'd gotten from the store room.
The blood backed away from me then went to stand near the pretty. I watched them. If they were lovers it would explain why the paladin was so troublesome, although not why he was travelling with them in the first place.
She frowned at her sister, "What of the children?"
The High Priestess of Sune rolled her eyes then explained patiently, "They cannot be left here, alone. Someone will have to stay with them or we will have to take them with us. The latter would not only put them in danger but also leave this entire farmstead to be claimed by the first passerby who took a fancy to it."
The pretty frowned, "Neither of those options are good."
"Even if they stay here, anyone who wants it could take the farm from them." The paladin spoke up and he seemed a bit diffident and less arrogant all of a sudden. I looked between them and wondered what had been said or done while I'd been unconscious to bring about such a change in him. He continued speaking of the way things were, "Children have no rights of property and especially orphans have no rights."
The pretty suddenly looked fit to be tied, an idea which shot a thrill of excitement through me. Before my mind could wander down that particularly lustful lane she spoke, her voice vibrant with outrage and determination. "That is absolutely unacceptable. These children have suffered quite enough without having to lose their ancestral home and be forced to live on the streets begging for food. We will have to do something about this."
"We could always simply go to the actuary in the city and explain that this farm belongs to them," The High Priestess suggested thoughtfully. She was so beautiful it stole my breath away but she didn't possess the fire that filled her twin. She was gentle, soft and the more lovely of the two but that spark of fire that blazed in the eyes of her sister excited me more.
"Wouldn't work," the paladin stood and warily joined the little discussion group. "Children can't own anything. Anyone who wanted this place could still just take it from them."
Cimmera huffed impatiently, pacing across the floor. Suddenly she stopped and turned, smiling broadly. "Then we'll just have Hypatia buy the place and turn it into an orphanage. No one would steal land from a priestess of Mystra, and they certainly wouldn't steal land from the Hero of Waterdeep."
"Hero of Waterdeep?" The paladin echoed my thoughts with the same level of surprise I had.
The beautiful priestess shook her head, "Oh Gabriel, didn't you listen to a word of what was being said about Hypatia when she returned to the temple from her journey?"
The paladin managed to look somewhat sheepish, even ducking his head slightly, "I was caught up in my training, High Priestess Cimmera. I rarely have time to listen to gossip and the rumors of fishwives."
That made her angry and she stepped over to where he stood, looking up at him and raising her hand to shake a finger under his nose, "This isn't just gossip. Ask Deekin what happened while my sister and I figure out what to do here."
"We don't have time for that," the pretty interrupted before the little Kobold could get going. "Evil drow faction attacked Waterdeep. Non-evil drow faction opposed evil drow faction. Valen was the general of the good faction. Halaster teleported me to the command center of the good faction. Valen and I teamed up to put a stop to the evil faction. Arch devil summoned by evil drow faction gets loose in Toril. Arch devil cuts a path of death and destruction up through the Underdark and lays siege to Waterdeep. Valen and I and the Planar put a stop to the Arch Devil. The rest you know."
"Wow!" Deekin, the little kobold, had listened to the pretty with increasingly wide eyes and a sad little shake of his scaly head. "No wonders Boss needs faithful kobold companion to write epic of adventures. That bes the saddest telling of epic tale Deekin ever hears. Boss left out all the good parts, like how angsty general Valen nos trust Boss right away. But Boss earns trust because Boss is so good. And how Angsty general Valen first kiss Boss after evil Valsharess threatens to torture Boss for not changing her allegiance. Yous let Deekin tell the story from now on, Boss and you just worry about being big hero."
I let loose a bark of laughter. The kobold's assessment was fearless and to the point. The tale as told by the pretty was still breathtaking in what it implied about what she and her tiefling companion had accomplished. I could only imagine what had been left out, though I suspected that with very little prodding the Kobold would tell me.
The paladin looked between them as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. If the pretty were telling the truth, and I had no reason to believe any differently; then she and her tiefling were a force to be reckoned with. I leaned back remembering some comments Antonius had made while I'd still been employed, or thought I'd been employed by that treacherous berk; and they gave credence to the tale the pretty had told so briefly.
The pretty chuckled, "I am well aware that you are the better story teller, Deekin. We're just in a bit of a hurry here."
"You's so good to little Deekin, Boss."
"Deekin," she hesitated before adding delicately, "You don't have to write down all about kisses and stuff like that."
"Oh Boss," Deekin laughed, "Those bes the best parts."
Cimmera laughed out loud, a sound filled with happiness that brought a smile to everyone's face.
Hypatia blushed and muttered, "Of course they are."
She placed her hands on the small of her back and arched her back stretching, easing the soreness and to my point of view, displaying her breasts rather prettily. This time I didn't leer at her though, instead I glanced over to the blood standing near.
He watched her then looked around to see who else was watching her. I caught his eye and raised my eyebrows in a question. He gave me a dark, warning look.
"So," The pretty spoke and I looked over to her. She was looking over the children with a thoughtful expression, "You want me to buy this farm and then turn it into an orphanage so that these children can remain in their home."
"Come on, Hypatia," Cimmera prodded her, "You've got the gold. You can do it easy. And just think of how good things could be for the other children you take food and blankets too. Daerlun is just begging for a decent orphanage."
I could see the pretty thinking it through and decided to see to my own interests before her soft heart saw these brats get my jink.
"I get my jink!" I barked, satisfied to see her jump a little at the interruption.
I watched as the pretty turned that thoughtful look on me and I shivered for some unaccountable reason. She studied me for what felt like a long time before nodding once. That same nod her sister had used earlier. She had reached some decision and I felt another shiver run down my spine and out across my sensitive wing membranes, causing them to twitch.
She turned and left the room. With my foot still torn apart and the remains of the infection still coursing through my blood I was vulnerable to whatever she planned to do. I glared around the room, letting them know I was not afraid.
When she returned, shortly, she had her pack and she reached into it for a pouch that made the heartening tinkling sound of jink. I smiled. My smile grew even wider when she drew out several similar pouches, weighing each one in her hand. Finally she turned back to me and stepped over to stand by the bed.
She dropped five of the pouches of jink, one at a time on the bed next to me. I looked from them up to her and saw steel mixed with fire in her eyes. "500 now, another 500 after we've completed our task," she commanded me and with that amount of jink I accepted her command without question. "Kill any priest of Cyric you find. Slaves and prisoners are to be spared."
I gulped and opened the first pouch. It — every bit of jink in it was gold. She was going to pay me a thousand gold? I flickered a look up to her and nodded. This much jink would see me comfortably in a room and ale for a long time.
She reached out and took one of my wings in her hands. Still counting my jink I let her do as she pleased. For the kind of jink she was paying I was hers for as long as she wanted to pay me. She seemed interested in the large knuckle at the top of my wing. Then she pressed one delicate finger into the joint and shocked I took a sharp breath and yelped simultaneously jerking away, giving her a resentful look.
She simply raised one eyebrow at me before fetching a large metal cup of water for me. "You are working for me, so I expect you to get what equipment or items you need before we go into battle." She fixed a truly stern look on me and I froze, "Especially healing potions."
I gaped up at her, jink in my hand forgotten for a moment. "I have no healing potions," I spoke with a touch of deference. I had never worked for anyone who had ever… ever… cared whether I lived or died. In fact I'd often thought that they'd be just as happy if I did die. Then they wouldn't have to pay me.
She snorted softly, "You're no good to me dead." She went to her pack and pulled out a handful of small vials that were potent healing potions. "Call out in battle if you need healing."
All I could do was stare at her. I glanced at the Blood and suddenly wished I'd met her before he had. Then I snarled and went back to counting my junk. What the hells. She was making me forget I wasn't a man.
She'd given me healing potions and not demanded I pay for them. I looked at her through lowered eyelids, trying to watch her without being seen. What was her end game?
She went back to discussing the farmstead. "We will still need someone to stay here with the children while we press on towards Farquhar's lair. We will need someone to take the gold to the Landowners Guild and pay for this farm. And we will need someone to bring those orphans from the city who wish to live here at this orphanage."
The children had been listening and they were all about in tears when Bessera spoke up, "Do…Do you really think mum and daddy are gone?"
Cimmera the pretty's twin immediately went to them, gathering them to her with all the gentleness their own mother would have shown them. I envied them for a moment, before my better sense reminded me that such a soft upbringing would have seen me dead my first week in the blood wars. "They may have made it safely to the city and been unable to return but I don't think they would have left you here alone if they had a choice about it."
The pretty sighed and her bewitching eyes were once again sad when she spoke, "The priesthood of Cyric is evil and almost to a man, sadistic but the worst is that their vile, insane god delights in destroying love wherever and whenever he can."
I dropped my gaze for an instant when she spoke of love. Of things that I would never, could never experience. After all I wasn't a man and the things that men took as their due were forever out of reach for a thing like me. But she had treated me like a man. But I wasn't a man. I looked at her again, stared more like it. Until the Blood stepped between her and myself. His eyes blazed and he kept one hand on his flail. I let him see my confusion for one second then bared my canines at him. I would not be cowed.
"Oh that will just never do." I startled at the unexpected musical voice of a stranger. The others whirled towards the entry way through which an extremely colorful and energetic creature skipped.
The blood got in front of the pretty before anyone else managed to do more than gape at the creature. She, I'm positive it's a she although it's rather hard to see beyond the giant multicolored wings that shroud the creature; moved like a humming bird. Quick movements, never resting in one place long enough to let me get a really good look at her, just a flash of color and movement. She must be celestial born, I could feel the song rising in my blood to tear her pretty wings off and watch her die a slow death.
Behind her came another blasted paladin, although this one looked a bit dazed. He followed the colorful thing into the room then stopped watching the celestial born.
"Xanthus?" Gabriel leaped up and went to the second paladin. He seemed to know them and I shifted uncomfortably. A Celestial born and an ally to the paladin that seemed to have caused the pretty some grief just happening to arrive seemed a bit beyond chance to me. Were we about to be attacked by an army of them on some holy mission to rid the world of our taint?
"Oh, he's ok." The Celestial born pivoted, her flowing garment swirling about her legs. I got a decent look at her. She was tiny save for her enormous red, blue and green wings, and she had multicolored hair that matched her wings, even to the slight shimmering of iridescence. She chattered on while standing on the tips of her toes, her wings fluttering slightly to keep her balanced and somehow looking at everyone. "He just ran into some very unpleasant undead. I helped him though."
She flitted about the room, peering into pots and cupboards and her presence seemed to lift everyone's spirits. I found myself smiling just to watch her move. I got the feeling that somehow joy had been made incarnate in the form of this half celestial. Looking at the smiles and half smiles that spread across the faces of those gathered in the room I knew that I was not the only one who felt it.
As if remembering her conversation she turned and half scolded the dazed looking paladin called Xanthus, "You really shouldn't try to take on so many by yourself, you know."
That seemed to snap him out of it. He blinded and ducked his head slightly, then rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "I was just trying to follow Gabriel."
"Did Agathon send you?" Gabriel demanded.
"Um, no," Xanthus managed to look sheepish. "I just thought you could use a friend." He looked around the room. The children had clustered by the High Priestess and the blood was standing protectively beside the pretty with the kobold standing just a half a step behind her.
The celestial born danced over to the children and bestowed a kiss on the top of each of their heads, laughing with pure joy as she did. She whirled to the blood and the pretty stepped in her path. The pretty had a fiercely determined expression on her face.
The celestial born immediately touched the side of her head where there was a mottled bruise that seemed to be growing more livid as the hours passed. "This was healed, was it not? Why is it returning? That is very strange," She brushed back a lock of the priestesses hair gently. "You should not be on a quest with an injury like this. I shall have to speak to whomever sent you."
She turned a look to the blood, "And you, what is your purpose here? You stand ready to defend her. Why is that?"
Before either could answer she stood still for perhaps the space of a breath before asking the pretty with surprising carefulness, "Why do you place yourself between he and I?"
I wasn't the only one to gasp in shock when the pretty wasted no time on prevarication or even pleasantries. She spoke in a ringing voice, "I love him."
This sent a shock of disbelief through me. It rapidly changed to resentment and jealousy. She loved him? He was not a man. He was a blood, like me. How was it that a priestess of good could love someone like that? How was it that any woman could love a blood? I gave him a hard stare, hoping to somehow discern what it was about him that had earned her love.
She had given me potions and jink. I glanced down at the vials and gold then back up to her. The pretty might be consolidating her power base. Drow priestesses would dally with demons and tieflings for such purposes. Was this priestess doing the same? Why had she healed my foot then? Why not just summon what she wanted and magically bind them. She didn't make any sense.
The celestial born clapped her hands once, startling me out of my confusion and exclaimed, "That is wonderful!" Then before they could move she flung her arms first around the pretty, then around the blood in what appeared to be hugs. I laughed aloud at the expression on their faces.
This only served to turn the celestial's attention to me and I cursed my loose lips. She was by my side in an instant and even smaller than I had originally thought. It was the force of her presence and the size of those oversized pinions of hers that made her appear taller. She stroked the membrane of one of my wings and I twitched, moving away from her gentle touch.
"Who are you? And How is it that you have not been healed as of yet?" She plucked the bandages off of my injured foot with a speed and deftness that was simply too quick to permit reaction. "Oh this is just terrible!" She turned to look at me again not waiting for me or anyone to speak, "does it hurt? It must hurt a lot. Well don't you worry. I'll take care of it for you and then you'll be right as rain. I love to watch the water fall from the sky and the sound of the music it makes falling spattering on the leaves of the trees and into the river. It is difficult for me to fly for very long in the rain though. My wings get waterlogged. You wouldn't have that problem though, would you? Your wings have known no feathers."
I gaped up at her. She managed to speak it seemed without pausing for breath, much less answers. She waived her hand over my foot and sang a few words, it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. It almost distracted me from the pain and then intense itching as my foot healed rapidly from the power of the spell. "There, now. All better."
She moved and spoke so rapidly I could do no more than watch her. The others seemed to be just as immobilized by her as I was. Finally she seemed to have satisfied herself with inspecting each one of us in the kitchen and she settled on a tall stool by the table, helping herself to some goose.
The two paladins spoke quietly while she ate. I turned my head so that I could hear them. The latest addition, Xanthus, had left the city without permission of the grand pooh-bah for reasons of his own. Gabriel, though bothered by this was clearly heartened by his presence.
It would seem that the presence of the celestial born emboldened him too for he approached the pretty, who had…I had to look a second time for it appeared she had cuddled up to the blood. Perhaps she really did love him. Was it possible?
I shook my head, clearing my mind. I had heard tales of certain evil priestesses breeding with bloods, or Cambions or even demons to gain power and intimidate those of lesser rank. But the pretty had none of the mannerisms of an evil priestess.
"Priestess Hypatia," the paladin, Gabriel, said with careful deference. "Xanthus has come to offer us his assistance. He might be willing to take payment to the city and purchase this farm on your behalf."
The others looked between them in surprise. The pretty was suspicious but she couldn't pass up such an offer. Not if she wanted to protect the children and their home.
While she was studying the paladin suspiciously the nephilim spoke up, "Oh that's right. I was sent to deliver a message." She smiled brightly, "That is what I do after all." Then she fluttered over and stood right in front of the pretty.
"You must forgive," She spoke with a sudden gravity made all the more potent by the contrast to her normal joyfulness.
The pretty recoiled as if she'd been struck. She recovered rapidly and spun away before spinning back, her eyes blazing. "I will forgive. When forgiveness has been earned."
The celestial born shook her head a bit sadly, "That is not your place."
The pretty raised her chin defiantly, "And if I forgive?"
The nephilim smiled broadly and made as if to bestow another feathery hug but stopped. The pretty's face was cold and stern, more so than when she had spoken to the paladin. The celestial born stopped and looked at her, her own expression changing to a sternness that seemed even more terrible than the pretty's.
"If I forgive," The pretty continued seemingly unperturbed by the sudden sternness of the celestial born. "If I forgive and there has been no repentance, no concession to those harmed by brutality and violence. Then I am responsible for the next victim and every one after that!"
To my utter astonishment the celestial born's expression shifted from sternness to deep compassion. "It is not so, child. Do you not yourself claim to love one who is not a man but part demon. You yourself know that redemption is possible."
I looked to the pretty, unable to fathom what was happening here. That she dared stand before a celestial born defiantly was unthinkable. She was not a creature of evil, bent upon vile darkness. She was not an agent of chaos, spreading destruction throughout the planes. She championed the weak and the hopeless. Yet she stood before a creature of the heavens daring to doubt the message. She dared doubt the wisdom of the gods.
I chanced to flick a glance to the blood and he looked as shocked as any blood I'd ever seen. He stared at her wide eyed.
"I know that my father, a man," she spat the last word, "sought out his demon: booze. He gave himself to it willingly, he reveled in his drunkenness. He gloried in beating helpless children. His own children, he beat near to death. His wife, the mother of his children he beat so bad she could bear no more children for him."
"Then, when highwaymen fell upon our small caravan he would have traded his own wife and daughters to them if they would but spare his worthless, drunken life."
She drew herself up proudly, "I saved us and got my sister and I to the safety of a temple, though they searched for us; those vile evil men. Even there I had to barter away my services as a scullery maid to secure sanctuary for my sister and I. That was the greatest kindness we were afforded. For as soon as the temple fell into the hands of another priest we were turned out of the temple with naught but the clothes on our backs. Two girls on the cusp of womanhood, alone with nowhere to turn were turned out into the world from that little temple. Do not tell me that our safety even crossed the mind of that priest."
She glared around the room and I, even I hoped the tale of abuse had come to its end. "We travelled carefully. Avoiding the road as much as we could, for fear of the obvious target we made, two unprotected girls, until we came to the city, this fair city of Daerlun. Here in this city we found refuge in the temples. But even here, even as a fully inducted priestess of Mystra I am subject to the abuse of men who think that brutality can change the truth. I dared to speak the truth of a good man and for it I was nearly beaten to death by a paladin who only believed what his eyes and prejudices told him. I was left to die by this paladin in the dungeon of the temple of my own goddess, shown no mercy not a scrap of compassion. He did not even have the decency to lay hands upon me to see that I did not perish before my trial, or to determine even if I was to have a trial for daring to champion a redeemed soul. "
The pretty's eyes had filmed over as she spoke, now fully white and I believed she was blind. At least to what we could see. Who knows what other vision she might have, the vision they had commanded her to use when we had first come here. The bruising on the side of her head had grown into an angry wound, bleeding profusely down the side of her face. I don't know what was happening but I expected her to collapse at any moment.
"No!" The word was torn from the throat of the paladin Gabriel and it broke the terrible tension that filled the air. I watched him throw himself on his knees before the pretty and beg, "Do not count me amongst those other men, Priestess Hypatia, please."
She turned her face down toward him and there was none of the softness or sadness that had marked her expression when she had tended my injury. Her white eyes were cold as deep ocean agates. "What if the next woman who speaks a truth you don't want to hear is not able to heal herself? What if she does not have friends who can sneak in and heal her? I almost died at your hands, Gabriel. Likely the next woman who dares to speak to you as if she were a human being will end up paying for it with her life."
"No!" The paladin denied it with a desperate anguish.
The celestial born seemed saddened by the tale, her expressive and exquisite face mirroring a deep compassion but she did not back down. Rather she commanded in a ringing tone, "Justice is not your province…Judge."
The pretty startled, her eyes growing wide. She opened her mouth, half shaking her head in denial then stopped, the motion arrested as the celestial born continued.
"Always amongst the children of men have been sent a few, a very few who serve the gods when darkness threatens. Often it is the various orders of paladins who serve as judges and arbiters of justice. But occasionally, when great evil threatens the gods commission avatars of the various necessities." She fixed the pretty with a stern look, "You become judgment, do you not? Would you deny your counterparts, Justice and Mercy their rightful duties?"
The pretty opened and closed her mouth once or twice before whispering, "No." She seemed shaken by what the Celestial born was saying.
"Then you must forgive. You have spoken your judgment. Now let your counterparts fulfill their destinies."
"But…" She seemed incapable or unwilling to let it go.
"Or your bitterness will turn to hatred and twist your own soul. You will become as bad as or worse than those you have judged here today."
"I will perform a penance," the paladin blurted desperately. "I swear to you, Priestess Hypatia. I will perform a suitable penance. Forgive me, forgive me."
"You must forgive, child," the nephilim said. "For the sake of those you love, and whom love you. You must forgive."
She turned her head towards where Gabriel pleaded from his knees but her eyes did not see him. I could tell she was locating him by sound. It was eerie to see her, her face impassive and those white eyes. She sighed and a shadow seemed to rise from her shoulders to hover over her. "I forgive you Gabriel."
The nephilim shook her head, her multicolored wings moving in a gentle, almost hypnotic pattern, "You must forgive them all, child. Every one of them. "
The shadow dropped back down upon her even as she spat the word, "No!"
"Child," the nephilim's voice became even more gentle, "most of them are beyond you already. Would you sacrifice everything you are to hang on to your resentment?"
The blood stepped over to the pretty but the Celestial born waived him back and stepped up to touch the side of her head where blood flowed profusely. The pretty flinched giving credence to my thought that she was indeed blind now. "Child, you have been grievously wronged. No one doubts that. Now it is time to deny those who wronged you any more power over your life."
The pretty hesitated. I had a moment to ponder that her blindness did not seem to bother her then she spoke words that sent a wave of shock around the room. She said, "I am afraid."
The nephilim took a clean cloth and began dabbing the blood that ran down her face and neck, soaking into her tunic and spoke gently, "You are who you are, child. Letting go of the bitterness and fear that has driven you up till now will not change you. You will not forget the lessons you have learned. You will only become more who you are. More gentle, more caring, more loving and even more of a healer than you already are. Furthermore, on those occasions when circumstance forces you to become the Judge, you will be better able to weigh whatever it is that you weigh when you make your judgments."
The pretty sobbed once then collapsed even as that odd darkness rose and dissipated. The Celestial Born caught her, staggering under the weight and getting blood all over herself. The blood, Valen was there in a heartbeat, scooping the pretty into his arms.
The Nephilim smiled and began issuing commands, "I will heal her and then she must sleep through the night." She looked full into the face of the blood and her smile grew into laughter, "She will be alright now Valen Shadowbreath. She has forgiven those who committed the unforgivable against her and she will be stronger for it." Then she grew somber and added, "She and you will have need of that strength before long I'm afraid."
My foot healed and the utterly fascinating drama seeming to be over I stood up, my full height well above that of anyone else in the room. I stretched my wings out, asserting my dominance and reminding them that I was stronger than most of them.
I cannot even begin to explain the emotion that rocked me back on my heels when the nephilim spared me a glance and then waived one tiny hand my way, "Sit back down. I'll deal with you in a moment."
I sat and I cannot even begin to explain why I did. The nehpilim bustled the blood carrying the pretty out of the room and I could only assume back to the sleeping chambers where the pretty could rest. The pretty's sister followed along.
With the High Priestess suddenly gone the children clustered around the new paladin, Xanthus. He smiled down on them. He appeared to be a sight more kindly than his friend Gabriel.
Gabriel, regained his feet his expression deeply troubled. I snarled at him, challenging him. I was employed by the pretty and therefore under her protection. I did not like paladins as a matter of course and after hearing the pretty's tale I was more inclined than ever to dislike this one in particular. Self-righteous gits who thought their pretty words of justice and holiness somehow made up for their brutality and cruelty.
He barely spared me a glance. "I will do more than accept her forgiveness. I will earn it. I have greatly wronged her and sinned against her, my order and my god."