The Company gathered up their things and the pack horse and left Imnesvale shortly after dawn; Mazzy would communicate the details of their departure and their purpose for going to Minister Lloyd.
"Are you certain that you'd rather not stay?" she'd asked. "I'd think the people would wish to give you more of a send-off."
But Lidia had decided against it. Not only did she have a commitment to keep, but she also thought that what the village needed was to be left alone to try to pick up the pieces. She'd regretted it at least a little several times on the road back to Athkatla, but in her mind, the Company had done everything it could, at least for the moment.
And she felt an inexplicable need to get away. Her nightmares had only grown more intense since the battle against the Shade Lord. She'd awakened several times the previous night, just before being forced through that glowing green doorway or just before Irenicus stood over again with his little bone knife.
The Company's trip back home was uneventful for the most part; they hadn't run into any bandits or highwaymen yet, perhaps because they seemed like a high-risk, low-reward target. And the road was well-traveled enough that wild animals knew enough to stay away.
The last stretch home seemed the hardest, partly because a cold spring rain had started over the night and continued in bursts through the morning. They'd decided to go forward anyway, but now some seemed to seriously regret this choice. The road was soft and muddy, the going was slow, and by the time they reached where the road branched to the Radiant Heart Keep, they had slowly but persistently been soaked through.
At the crossroads, a band of half a dozen soldiers of the Order maintained a post. They stopped the Company in place, both with a shouted hail and a tall-walled, sturdy wooden wagon that they rolled across the road as soon as they spotted the Company.
The chief of the small band came forward, a short, rough-voiced woman. "You're Gorion's Company, aye?" she asked, eyes narrowing and hands ready on her halberd. "From what I understand, we're to escort two of you to the High Hall straightaway. I was not told to expect trouble, but best tell me now if you aim to start any."
"You must be mistaken," Anomen said. "Nothing was said in my missive about meeting you here."
"No mistake, Lance-Corporal. I don't like this either, but I've got my orders," the head guard said. Her hands moved towards the center of her halberd, her arms visibly tensing. "Squire or not, you'd best not test me."
Two archers ducked behind the parked wagon and raised their bows.
"I lead this company, and of course, we'll go with you," Lidia said more forcefully than usual.
The head guard asked Lidia, "You — you look like the one they want. You speak for this lot, here?"
"I do," she said. That wasn't entirely true — she tried to run the group through consensus, generally speaking — but she felt that, in this case, a firmer hand was needed.
"All right," the head guard said. One of her subordinates opened the back of the wagon. "Surrender your weapons and get in."
Anomen was going to balk at this; his face told it before he spoke it. She spoke up first. "What guarantee will we have that they'll be returned?"
"They'll go with you into the front of the cart straight away," she said.
"Very well," Lidia said, holding Azuredge forward and keeping her expression a studied blank.
The guard tried to take the axe from her hand, but the axe's handle turned icy cold, sticking to Lidia's palm even when she unclenched her fingers as though it had frozen there.
As soon as the head guard closed her hand around Azuredge, she cried out in pain. She let go and threw up her hands. "I'm not dealing with this, nor with the Cowls. Keep your weapons, then, but it's going to be a mark against you when we report in."
"We'll take our chances," Lidia said, putting Azuredge into her smaller pack and hoisting it onto her back.
She turned to Yoshimo, Aerie, and Minsc one last time. "I'll get a message to Bernard as soon as this is resolved."
She stepped up into the open wagon, then turned back and gestured towards Anomen to get in. After some hesitation, he followed, entrusting the pack horse to one of the soldiers nearby.
They climbed in among nondescript cargo, finding a place to sit among moistened sacks with a heavy, earthy smell. The wagon started rolling, shaking slightly as the pair of mules hauling the wagon started trotting down the road. The rain droplets splashed upon their heads as they went, but seeing how they'd gotten their feet out of the mud, Lidia thought this might be an improvement.
Anomen didn't seem to think so. "I am the son of Lord Cor and a member of the Order," he said, "and I ought not to be subject to this as though I were a common criminal."
Lidia was trying to keep her hands busy by carefully putting Azuredge back in its leather wrap. "I'm simply trying to make this go as smoothly as possible. We've got our weapons, we're not restrained, and no one will see us in here — that's three wins already." She couldn't resist adding: "If appearances are what you want to worry about, that's your call."
"Have you never spent time among the nobility? Appearances matter as much as gold does, or even more, as I am sure Baron Metrich made clear to you."
"I did what I could," Lidia said, indignant. "The Baron was determined not to give up his claim on Imnesvale, regardless of who brought the case. Not even Crolus could sway him."
A shout from the front of the cart urged them to be quiet, and they heeded it; the rattling inside the wagon wouldn't have been conducive to talking, anyway. But as the hours wore on, the wagon felt more and more like a tumbrel, carrying them to their final fate. Lida drifted in and out of sleep, resting her head on one of the sacks, letting the wagon rock her, rough as the road was.
They couldn't see where they were going, but they could feel it underneath the wheels: the squelching of the mud turned to the grinding noise of gravel, then to the rattle of cobblestones; the walls, gates, and a series of stone buildings, wooden tenements, and then the city's oldest weathered stucco buildings towered over their heads.
The wagon finally stopped in the middle of a busy street in front of a long row of grand buildings, its noise carried by carts and runners and merchants all trying to make themselves heard over the sound of water; the rain and the wind rustled the sea beneath the massive concrete walkways and beneath everyone's feet.
The back of the wagon opened up again, and the head guard directed them outside.
They found themselves in front of a block-shaped, three-story building made from grey concrete blocks and a red-tiled roof, rising stout and indomitable from the water, resting on the old bones of the city. The front of the building was adorned with a long series of statues resting in alcoves, all depicting knights, priests, warriors, and saints in a long, imposing row just below the red-tiled roof. From a distance, one could see the soldiers on the roof keeping a solitary watch, their eyes keen and their bows ready for approaching foes — the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart's worst enemies lay both within and without the city.
They had come to the High Hall of the Radiant Heart, the oldest chapter house of the Order in Amn. While many of the Order's critical military affairs were handled at the keep outside of town, this place was its heart, where the highest-ranking officers in the Order issued commands and oversaw the state of affairs in Amn. Not only knights were regularly seen coming and going: lawyers, information brokers, petty and noble merchants, and government officials all made regular calls and sent their messengers here. Every so often, someone would claim they saw a member of the Council of Six stop by, but as no one knew the identities of the Council's members, such claims were often dismissed.
But both Anomen and Lidia hardly had time to take in the sight of the place, let alone go through the pair of red double doors in front. The head guard hurried them off around the building to a small side door and down a short, tight hall, where she put them in a small, empty, white-walled storeroom, locking the door behind her.
Anomen stayed standing as the door closed behind them. He'd been restless throughout the entire trip, and his wandering about the room turned into pacing, back and forth from one side to the other.
Lidia found the farthest corner and slid down into it, curling herself up and setting up a lantern nearby. "I'm going to read through my notes," she announced. "Let me know if you need anything."
He stopped for a moment, incredulous. "I could lose my place among the Order. You could lose your head! How can you lay idle at a time like this?"
She shrugged. "If we're stuck here, might as well. And besides, they'll probably want our version of the facts, at least."
"What do you suppose you will say in your defense?"
"Well..." She'd thought about this often over the past couple of tendays. She'd told herself that the truth was all that should be needed, but she'd wondered if it'd be enough. "If your story, and mine, and the others', and Lord Windspear's all matches up —and it will — they can't just brush that aside."
With that, she started working her way through her journal, pausing now and again to add a note in the margins or refine one of her sketches, until she was interrupted by heavy steps and low voices rising and falling, all muffled through the door.
One set of footsteps approached, then paused. Lidia turned her head towards the sound and stared at the doorknob, wondering if someone had come for them.
But instead, the shadow of a hand broke the thin sliver of light underneath the door, slipping a piece of paper with Anomen's name on it.
Anomen reached forward and eagerly took the note, unsealed it, and began reading it by the slanting light of the window; as he did, he noticeably relaxed, finally taking a seat on the opposite side of the wall and leaning against it.
Lidia waited to speak until he'd finished reading and folded the note. "Good news, I take it?" she asked.
"A letter from my sister, that is all," he said. "I…I had thought of her on the road home."
"Everything all right with her?"
"She seems to be holding up well, yes." He said nothing more, and Lidia didn't press him.
Instead, she uncurled herself from the corner. Her thoughts wandered, disorganized until wakefulness corralled them into place. She focused them into a silent plea to the Crying God: "Give me strength to stand, come what may."
After some time, the door opened, the noise jolting them to attention.
A tall, middle-aged Chondathan woman wearing an expensive-looking set of field plate stood in the doorway and introduced herself as Lady Irlana Cormaeril. She eyed them somewhat warily, keeping her hand on her longsword. "I'm to escort you to the main hall," she said. "They are ready to listen to your case."
Both of them left most of their luggage behind, with one exception: Lidia tied Azuredge in its wrap around her back. If the Order wanted the axe back and Azuredge didn't mind, she figured she could return it, and this way, it was apparent she didn't intend to use it.
They followed Irlana down a long hallway until they came to a tall foyer. Right now, it was silent and darkened, but three of the white walls were covered with the spoils of war: among these were an entire bestiary of stuffed heads, an array of jagged-looking weapons with broken blades and handles, and the defaced symbols of a dozen dark gods. Opposite a pair of eight-foot-tall, finely carved cedar double doors, tall windows looked out onto the deepening evening and were mostly closed off to prying eyes with three long pairs of blood-red linen curtains.
Irlana went ahead of them through these doors, leaving the two of them alone and waiting in front. Anomen finally broke the silence.
"How much of the truth do you intend to tell them?" he quietly asked her.
"As much as they need," she whispered. "That's all I can do now."
The double doors swung open, and Irlana led them inside.