Chapter Four
The Soldier and the Cleric

Beyond the boundaries of your city's lights.
Stand the heroes waiting for your cries.
So many times you did not bring this on yourself.
When that moment finally comes, I'll be there to help.

Citizen Soldier: 3 Doors Down

Javier Esposito carefully schooled his features as he watched Kevin Ryan walk out the door of Lord Weldon's justice seat alongside Kate's father. Bringing the moon elf in had dug up old hurts and even older demons. It had been clear to him that Kevin Ryan was a much better father than his had ever been. Ryan hadn't put up so much as a token fight when he'd slapped the shackles on, even as his little girl cried piteously and his wife shouted obscenities at him in both in the common tongue and several languages he did not understand. It was clear that little Sarah Grace had been carefully shielded from what her father had been doing to keep them fed and a roof over her head. Though he had only been doing his duty, it had broken his heart to do that to them.

Not only were the charges against Kevin Ryan dropped, every single one of the complaining nobility - to a man - had recanted their sworn statements, insisted they had never been robbed in the first place and it was all a misunderstanding. The valuables and pittance of gold that had gone missing had, been misplaced by household valets or simply been otherwise mislaid. Two of them even went so far as to apologize to Ryan in open court for the misunderstanding and to Lord Weldon for inconveniencing the city guard by instigating the month-long manhunt.

With that, the allegations against Kevin Ryan had evaporated as if they'd never existed. He'd left damn little evidence he'd been on their estates as it was and without those sworn statements, there was nothing upon which to even base a preliminary investigation. To even charge Ryan again, they would have to wait for another robbery.

Even now, the glare that Ryan's wife leveled at him on their family's way out of the hall where Lord Weldon held court unsettled him, leaving a pall of guilt in their wake that, as a man of honor, he was not comfortable carrying.

Once upon a time, Javier Esposito had watched his own father dragged away in chains for the evil, vile things he'd done. He and his father had never been particularly close – in fact, Manuel Esposito had been a rat bastard in every way a four-year-old Javier could possibly have imagined, but the true extent of his father's criminal leanings had still come as a shock to him as a boy. He'd attended his father's beheading in the square outside Fortress Rock with his mother when he was five and could not recall shedding a tear for him. His father had been granted a more dignified exit than most of his victims had been.

Javier Esposito truly believed he could spend a lifetime in the city guard and never hope but blot out even half of his father's sins, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. It had been the Paragon, James Beckett - the very man who had dragged his father to justice - who had taken him aside and shown him the possibility of a new path. That he was more than his father's sins, that he could be what Manuel Esposito could not, or had refused to be.

As much as Esposito hated himself for educating Ryan's daughter about her father's activities in the worst way possible, he hated watching a criminal walk even more. It still dumbfounded him that the same James Beckett who had set him on the path of seeking justice had convinced the nobles he was certain Ryan had robbed to do what they did.

What bothered him even more was that Beckett hadn't seemed surprised, nor was she particularly upset about the situation. As if that wasn't bad enough, she'd been spending a lot of time in the company of the Lord Weldon's court sorcerer, Richard Castle all of a sudden, if the rumors around the barracks could be believed. He didn't like it, Lord Castle had a reputation as a drunk and a skirt chaser. Nearly every tavern wench from Dockside to Fortress Rock seemed to have a wild tale in regard to his drunken sexual exploits.

How a man with such an awful track record with women had raised such a stable, well adjusted daughter, Esposito had no idea. Espo was very concerned for Beckett, whom he saw as the sister he never had, ff even half of the stories he'd heard were true. Though he had no control - or say - over whom his work partner chose to associate with, (and she would disembowel him slowly with a dull, rusty knife if he tried) if Lord Castle hurt her, he would drag him to the basement of Fortress Rock and show him just how many ways his shield could be used to ruin a man's day.

After watching Richard Castle talking with Beckett in hushed tones for several minutes, seemingly thick as thieves, he was beginning to feel just a little disgusted, especially after she handed him back the mug she had been drinking out of. Esposito had long been aware of Lieutenant Beckett's taste for expensive coffee, but how the court sorcerer had found out was beyond him as Kate wasn't much for sharing, it had taken him years to find this out about her.

When they got to the part about Ryan going with them to Hollander's Woods, it was the last straw. Dangerous things crawled around in there. Even if it wasn't four day's ride away, it still wasn't the sort of place to go casually.

"Did I hear you talking about going into Hollander's woods?" He scolded darkly. "You know damned well how dangerous that place is, Beckett. Even when your dad was in his prime, he gave that place a wide berth. Only went in there once if I recall to save some bard's kid, years ago."

Esposito saw something close to anger cross Castle's face when he said "bard" as if it was a dirty word.

"Mind your tone, Guardsman," Castle warned, bristling at the perceived slight against Martha, "My mother is a bard, and I will not see her profession maligned in my presence."

"Are you here for a reason, Espo?" Beckett asked dangerously, an eyebrow raised. "Or are you trying to interfere in my personal life again?"

Six years before, Kate had been seriously involved with a member of Lord Weldon's personal guard named Will Sorenson. A few months into their relationship Sorenson had received an offer to join the royal guard in Waterdeep. He'd strung Kate along for weeks after he'd accepted, then asked her - bolt out the blue - to drop everything and go with him the day before he was to depart with no provisions having been made for her advancement. The bastard had even tried to get her released from the City Guard behind her back, going so low as to bring up her father's drunken behavior at the time to cast doubt upon her reputation. Rumors of instability that had persisted, whispered about her at court to this very day.

When Esposito found out what Sorenson had tried to do, he'd invited the man to spar at the training yard and beaten him bloody. Beckett had already turned Sorenson down flat and had been livid with him for interfering in her personal life. It had taken Esposito weeks to earn back her trust.

"No, chica," Esposito backpedaled, "but, by the nine hells, if you think I'm gonna let you walk into Hollander's fucking Woods with only this chuckle-head and a thief to have your back, you have another thing coming."

He nodded in deference to Castle's station, "No offense."

Castle bristled, but Kate stayed him with a hand on his chest and he backed off.

"Do you doubt me, Espo?" Kate growled, not happy about being second guessed publicly by a guardsman under her command in front of witnesses, not to mention sensitive when it came to the subject of her father.

"Beckett, you know I'm with you till the wheels fall off," Espo growled back, "but Hollander's Woods has been cursed since the Troubles and people avoided the place even before that for damned good reason."

"I have my reasons, which I won't explain to you with so many ears around," Beckett hissed quietly. "This is Castle's show and if you insist on coming along, then keep your teeth together and meet us at the south gate, the day after tomorrow at first light."

"As you wish," Esposito replied. He'd made his point, and knew better than to press the subject further, fully aware that if he were anyone else, Beckett would have cut him off at the knees.

"Come on, Lord Castle," Beckett stated after dismissing Esposito, "we'll need a cleric for this trip, and I have just the right one in mind."

When Castle hesitated, she turned back to him, "You coming Castle?"

"Kevin, do you really have to do this?" Jenny Ryan asked as her husband rummaged through the closet until he found the chest he was looking for and dragged it into the room, "I know he helped keep you out of prison, but where Lord Castle is going is dangerous. Think about Sarah, she needs her father."

"That's why I have to do this, Jen," Kevin replied as he unlocked and opened the case, lifting a matched pair of sheathed slender Elven swords atop a carefully folded set of finely crafted armor of leather and mithril chain mail. "I can't even imagine what that man is going through, not knowing where his own little girl is. I am sworn to the service Corellon Larethian I can't just turn my back."

From the lid of the chest he withdrew the shortbow he had once carried to war against Lloth. He strung the bow and ran his fingers over the light armor. Jenny knew she had no answer, no words that could refute her husband's logic. If it were Sarah Grace, she would not only be preparing her husband for war, she would join him.

"Give it here, Kevin," Jenny whispered, her arms outstretched for the armor he was fingering lightly "I will see it cleaned and made ready before you depart while you see the fletcher to fill your quiver. May Larethian himself watch over you."

Lanie Parish, Cleric of Pelor was dressed in the yellow robes of her order, performing her duties to prepare the dead for burial. Though she also had a higher calling to protect the living as a devotee of Pelor, the acolytes and ministers had realized early that she had an affinity for the disposition of the dead. She had often been summoned by Lord Weldon's court to oversee the remains of people who had died under suspicious circumstances to determine if foul play had been involved. If such people transitioned to becoming undead, it never hurt to have one such as her to call down the holy smite of her god. The dead should remain dead, no matter how they were slain.

Kate had sent word ahead that she was bringing "important company" but she wasn't one to put on airs when it came to those who entered her domain, be they commoner or royalty. When Kate walked in the door with Lord Richard Castle, Third Under-mage of the Royal Circle of Magi and Court Sorcerer of Lord Robert Weldon, however, she wished she's done something with her hair, or put on a cleaner set of vestments. Lanie had not been prepared for an "official" visit from one of New Amsterdam's inner circle.

Though many dismissed Richard Castle based upon his reputation, Lanie Parish – who would likely have believed them too, had she not witnessed one such "encounter" herself - was under no so such illusions. One of the many benefits of being an acolyte of Pelor was the ability to see through both glamer and illusion spells at will.

The shallow women who had thrown themselves at Richard Castle would be mortified to learn they had gone to bed alone to have the best night's sleep of their lives and one hell of a dream about having him betwixt their sheets while Castle went home,to dote on his daughter.

Lanie figured it was entirely possible that Kate only saw the outer shell of this man instead of the loyal subject of the shire, who had long since sacrificed his own public reputation to keep his daughter out of the public eye.

"Lord Castle," Lanie managed to say with the proper respect due his station, in spite of her mortification at being put on the spot, "what an unexpected pleasure. Welcome to the Chapel of Pelor."

"Save it, Lanie," Kate interjected, "we aren't here on official business. Lord Castle is planning an expedition into Hollander's Woods and we need a cleric. You in?"

"Hollander's Woods?" Lanie asked incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what;s crawling around in there? The place was a source of dragon and undead activity even before the Avatar Crisis made a mess of things a hundred years ago. Pelor only knows how much worse it's gotten since then!"

Before Kate could get a word in edgewise, Lanie rounded on Castle with an accusing finger poked in his ribs.

"And you, Lord Castle," Lanie hissed, "You haven't been in more than a skirmish since Myth Drannor, what the hell would possibly possess you to go into one of the few places in Faerun that even the Drow avoid like the plague, not to mention rope my best friend into the scheme?'

"I... Castle began, his right hand twitching, but Lanie cut him off.

"I'm sure you're well aware that your illusion and glamer spells will not work on me, Lord Castle, so I want the truth! Out with it, if you want my help."

Castle stopped for a beat and Kate almost thought he'd hang his head, but instead he straightened to his full height.

"My daughter was traveling with that caravan to visit her mother, somebody took her and killed all of the others, including the bodyguard I'd hired to protect her!" Castle hissed back, barely contained fury burning behind his eyes. "The only clue I have as to who took her and where leads straight there. She's my baby girl, and she's in danger. If bringing her home safely means I have to go to the one place in all of Faerun that haunts my nightmares, then that's where I'm going to go, even if I have to go alone!"

With that, Castle stormed from the room, leaving the two stunned women in his wake. This was not the man his reputation suggested. The Richard Castle who had stormed out of the Chapel of Pelor, shouldering past Acolyte Purlmutter on his way, was someone a lot more dangerous.

This was the man who had helped clear and retake the halls of Myth Drannor. Kate thought to herself. Perhaps there is more to him than I thought.

"You didn't know, did you?" Lanie asked, "It's written all over your face."

"No," Kate replied, "but he had a look much like that one when he'd arrived at the scene of the caravan attack and saw the body covered in rose petals. I had no idea."

"Okay, girlfriend, I'm in." Lanie replied, "Let's help Lord Castle bring back his little girl."

Two days later, in the early hours of the morning, a patrol of five was seen departing the south gate of New Amsterdam. Though it was not unusual for Guard Lieutenant Kate Beckett and her trusted Sergeant, Javier Esposito to be leading a patrol out of the city gates at any given hour, the three others riding out with them seemed hazy and indistinct, as if viewed through a dark cloud. In fact only one set of eyes trained upon the scene recognized Richard Castle at all.

No one noticed as Will Sorenson slipped away to report to his master that the man he sought was on the move.

**Author's note** Just to avoid any confusion, according to the Forgotten Realms Wiki, "The Time of Troubles" and "The Avatar Crisis" are the same incident. It has several other names as well.

Have I just let slip another of the big bad's minions? Oh dear me I did didn't I? I never did like Will Sorenson. Of all of Kate's exes that have appeared, he is the one who hurt Kate the most. I just love to hate on him.

Enjoy