A Cappella Part 319 - It Don't Come Easy

AC319-It Don’t Come Easy

Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues,
And you know it don't come easy.
You don't have to shout or leap about,
You can even play them easy.
Forget about the past and all your sorrows,
The future won't last,
It will soon be your tomorrow.

“It Don’t Come Easy” George Harrison

 

Some time in the future…

Nalia stood at the door of the large manor house and took a deep breath. “Oh Ilmater, I am not sure that this is a good idea. Maybe we should leave, Dorolin.”

The man at her side took Nalia’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “My love, she deserves to hear it from us rather than from gossip.”

“I know, but… oh well, I had better get it over with.” She rapped on the door.

After a long moment the door was opened by a gray-haired man with an imposing manner. For a brief moment a flicker of emotion crossed his face. Then he said evenly, “Lady Nalia. It has been quite some time. Shall I announce you to Lady Delcia?”

Nalia smiled. “It is good to see you, Prilm. Yes, please let my aunt know that I am here.”

The butler showed them into a small parlor. Nalia paced nervously until his return.

Prilm’s face was frozen in a mask of rigid civility as he said, “My Lady says…” He cleared his throat. “My Lady says that her niece is no longer living, and that anyone claiming to be this person should be shown the door and asked never to return.”

Nalia’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you, Prilm,” she said weakly. “If you would be so kind, would you tell Lady Delcia that her late niece is now married to a priest of Ilmater, and intends to regain control of her family’s home? I would be grateful.”

“I will tell her, Lady Nalia.” He winced at the sound of a nearby door being slammed. “Though not quite yet.”

Dorolin turned his wife to face him and said, “Do not let this upset you so. You have told me that your aunt is stubborn and arrogant, but not a fool. She will reconsider once the shock has passed.”

Nalia straightened and wiped her eyes. “You are right, I should not let her obstinacy ruin my happiness. Now, let’s go see the Roenalls. They have a reckoning due.”

 

The figure in the center of the cell waited. Her hands and feet were manacled, and a chain ran from her metal collar to the floor.

She lifted her head at the sound of footsteps. She smiled maliciously at the three men who stood at the door of her cell. “And how is the guard, rivvil?”

One of the priests said coldly, “He will live, though it is doubtful he will ever father children.”

As her white hair spilled over her forehead, Viconia chuckled. “He will no longer be fruitful in body, then?”

Another of the three priests snarled, “You dare…”

The first priest raised his hand to forestall the other. “That will do, Kreel.” Turning his attention back to Viconia, he said gravely, “His actions were unworthy of a novice. He will be sent from the temple after he has recovered.”

“How righteous of you. I am sure the great and glorious High Mornmaster Arval has an equally virtuous fate in store for me.” She gave him a mock bow.

Arval cocked his head to the side and said with a small smile, “That depends on you. You see, we know why you are here.”

“I was hungry and I wanted something I could trade for food, nothing more. Turn me over to the Athkatlan guard and be done with it.”

“You came to steal a sacred artifact hoping to return to your goddess’ good graces.”

“How do… what do you know of my goddess?”

“Come now, do you think the servants of the Morninglord could ignore a Sharran skulking near our temple? Or should I say… former Sharran?”

“No! I worship the Lady of Loss!”

“I will not contradict you. But you are no longer her priestess. You cannot call upon her for power.”

Her lips curled back in a snarl. “Cursed iblith! Why must you drag my secrets into your wretched light?”

“Lathander knows that Shar is plotting against him. Simply tell us all that you know, and we will give you safe passage to a surface drow community. You will be treated well. But be warned, we will know if you are lying.”

“Bah! Join those dancing fools?”

“Your religious beliefs are your own affair, but it is my understanding that not all worship Eilistraee. I am sure you will find something… suitable.”

“And if I refuse to betray Shar?”

“Then I will remove the magical protections safeguarding this cell.”

“What do I care if…” Viconia froze, her eyes wide as a large spider crawled down the wall just outside the bars.

The priest saw it as well. “It would seem that others know of your imprisonment. I will give you time to think the matter over.” He and Kreel walked away, leaving the youngest of the three behind.

Viconia managed to tear her eyes away from the spider to glare at the remaining priest. “What do you want, rivvil? Are you another male who wishes to see if the tales of drowish passion are true?”

He shook his head. “We know that Shar has cast you out. But I must admit I am curious. Why?”

Viconia let loose a torrent of invective that would have had the priest’s ears burning had he known the drow tongue. As it was, he simply waited for her to exhaust herself. Eventually she stared at the floor sullenly. “If I tell you, will you take your hideous self from my sight?”

“Yes.”

“I… allowed myself to hope.”

“I do not understand.”

“I am sure you speak those words often,” she sneered.

“Then explain it to me. I will listen.”

Viconia stared at him for a long moment. “Very well. I once foolishly tried to find a quiet life. I… did not succeed. In time I accepted that what happened was my goddess’ punishment for attempting to avoid my pain. I swore that I would never repeat such folly. But…”

“But?”

“Recently I… I have grown tired of the bitterness of my life. I considered contacting a man who assisted me in the past. He has no reason to help me again. Bah, he is more likely to slit my throat, but… he is one of those fools who cannot ignore a plea. Shar saw that once more I was trying to avoid my pain and suffering, and turned her face from me.”

“I cannot say that I am unhappy to see someone freed from her grasp, but I am sorry for your loss,” the priest said softly.

“I do not need your pity, iblith! Leave me be!” she screamed.

As the priest turned to leave, she cried, “Wait!” He looked her curiously. “Just… kill that damned spider before you go.”

 

There was a sharp knock on the door. Haer’Dalis was instantly awake and rolling out of his bed. He snatched up his twin swords and said hoarsely, “Who is there?”

“My dearest Haer’Dalis. It is both heartening and discouraging to see that some things do not change.”

He relaxed slightly. “Raelis? Raelis Shai?”

“Who else, my moth?”

He sheathed his swords and strode to the door. He flung it open eagerly, only to find that several large muscular men were standing behind his former lover. Before he could defend himself, Haer’Dalis found himself pinned against the wall.

“Raelis? What is the meaning of this?”

She ignored him as she rummaged through the room. At last she found a slightly loose floorboard. With a cry of satisfaction, Raelis removed a large jeweled medallion and chain from the space beneath.

“Foolish Haer’Dalis. Surely you did not think that when the Ruby of Arisno went missing that the mind of the duke’s daughter would not immediately light upon the man who has seduced her just the night before?”

The tiefling gave her a falsely bright smile. “I had hoped to be gone before the theft was discovered. But why is this matter any concern of yours?”

“Because the duke has been a very attentive and... generous lover.” Raelis glanced down at the sparkling ring on her finger and smiled smugly.

“Ah, to think that you and I were in the same palace and this poor sparrow did not realize!” He eyed the men and said, “And what is to become of your moth now, Raelis? Shall I die, heartbroken and ashamed?”

“The duke would certainly like you dead, for his daughter if nothing else. But I made a bargain, my little sweetling. I promised to recover the jewel in return for your life.” She turned to one of the men and handed him the necklace. “Take this, and tell him that I have fulfilled my part of the bargain. Now go.”

Glaring fiercely at Haer’Dalis, the men left. When they had gone, he turned to Raelis and said, “I owe you my life, my flame. You have left the theatre?”

“No, I still travel with our troupe. But we have found no actor fine enough to replace you. Have you tired of this pitiful plane, dear sparrow? Will you rejoin us once more?”

“I will. I have been so lonely without you, my Raelis. No woman has touched my heart as you have.”

“Ah, I have missed you so, Haer’Dalis. Even your lies are golden to my ears.”

 

The large werewolf loped into the clearing. It stood panting for a moment, then its shaggy hair began to shorten and its posture straighten. The man that emerged from the transformation cried out, “All gather in the grove!”

He was joined by a number of men and women, many of whom were wounded. One limped to his side and said, “No deaths, Cernd, and no injuries we cannot mend.”

“Then nature has blessed us, Germo. These attacks… their frequency grows.”

“Scouting parties are all they are, but there are armies behind scouts. What will we do, Cernd?”

“What we must. We will protect this grove and the forest with all our strength.”

After the battle, the druids rested for a long while. But as tired as they were, they instantly became alert when they heard footsteps approach. The men and women relaxed when they saw one of their number enter the grove.

The young druid approached Cernd. The older man smiled and said, “You made good time, Bronmin. Your feet flew as the eagles. Did you obtain everything on the list?”

“Yes, Great Druid. I bought the metal goods you asked for. And Lord Coprith gave me a letter that is addressed to you.” He handed over a thin envelope.

“A letter?” Germo asked. “That is odd. No one writes to us.”

Cernd chuckled as he looked at the writing. “Evidently. ‘To Cernd the druid, somewhere near Trademeet.’ It is a miracle that it reached me.” He tore it open and pulled out the letter. “Ah, it is from my wife’s maid Fennecia. It would seem that the poor creature has fallen upon hard times and asks for my help.” He frowned. “Odd, she seems upset that she must resort to contacting me. I do not know why she…”

The druid’s eyes widened as he continued to read. He staggered back a few feet and leaned against a tree. His hand shook as he clutched the paper.

“Cernd? What is it, man? You’ve gone white as the snow!”

“She… she is not merely asking my aid. Fennecia is… offering to sell information to me.”

Germo seized his friend’s shoulders. “Cernd?”

“Galia… my… my wife. She is dead.” Tears began to stream down his face. “I had hoped that one day she would understand. That she would join me in the grove. But the last time I returned to Athkatla there was no one at home.”

“Oh, my friend, your grief is shared by all of us.”

“But that is not why… why Fennecia wrote to me. Germo, she says that Galia was with child when I left the city. She never told me.” He buried his face in his hands.

“You have a child?”

“A son. Fennecia says that she knows where he is, and I must give her a great sum of gold to learn what she knows.”

Germo’s face darkened. “You could have her before the Athkatlan courts for blackmail.”

“But then it would be certain that she would not speak. Her tongue would be as still as the stones beneath our feet.”

The younger druid looked over Cernd’s shoulder at the letter and whistled. “That’s a sizable sum. Do we have that much?”

“I would never ask the grove to pay for… a personal matter. I am not sure I have the necessary gold, but I have a friend… a fellow servant of nature. She will aid me, I know.”

“Where is she?”

“I am not sure, but I know who to ask to learn her location. I… I must leave you for a time, my friend. I will return when I can.”

“May the ground smooth a path before your feet.”

 

Mazzy stared at the knight sitting opposite her. “You wish to retain my services, Sir Ryan? I am afraid I do not quite understand you.”

“Keldorn has pointed out to me that we should have more variety in our training. Our squires are taught well how to deal with foes roughly their own size, but not…”

Mazzy smiled wryly. “But not those far smaller than themselves?”

“Yes. To be blunt, the squires would look upon an opponent of your size with contempt, sure that they would have an easy victory. Keldorn tells me that you are an excellent swordswoman, and are blessed by your goddess with certain abilities that our squires would not expect. You would surprise them,” he said with a grin.

She raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Are you asking me to humiliate your squires, Sir Ryan?”

He chuckled. “I am, and we will pay you well for your time and effort. A knight who wishes to survive learns not to be complacent. You will be teaching them a valuable lesson that just might save their lives someday.”

“Very well, I agree. We will work out the details, but it may have to wait until the baby is a bit older.”

“Of course. If… if you do not mind, could I see your son?”

Mazzy frowned slightly at Sir Ryan’s heavy armor. “He is asleep. Please try to be as quiet as possible.”

“I will do my best.”

They went to the nursery, Sir Ryan trying to hold the plates of his armor still so that they would not rattle. He bent over the cradle and stared for a long moment at the infant. “He… is so small,” he whispered.

With a smile, Mazzy said, “Many humans have that reaction to halfling children.”

“I suppose… he will grow in time.”

Mazzy gave him a hard look as she led him back to the sitting room. “Sir Ryan,” she said in a low voice, “surely you have not fallen prey to the rumor that Anomen was the father of my son?”

The knight looked embarrassed. “I have heard such gossip, and did not believe it, but… I could not stop myself from hoping. Sir Anomen grew into a fine young knight, and it seems a pity he did not leave an heir.”

She chuckled in amusement. “I appreciate your sentiment, but if I had born Anomen’s son I would still be unable to walk.”

Sir Ryan suddenly grinned and said, “By Torm, I would give three month’s stipend to see Cor’s face if Anomen had presented him with such an heir. He would have choked on his own vicious bile.”

The two shared a laugh. Sir Ryan said, “The Order thanks you for agreeing to help us. It is a pity that the Radiant Heart is only open to paladins and priests. A warrior such as you would be a worthy addition.”

Mazzy waved her hand dismissively. “I am a warrior no longer. I serve on a new battlefield.” A high-pitched wailing sounded from the nursery. “Ah, and there is the call to battle.”

Hey! Sorry I haven't replied much lately. Not enough time in the day it seems.

Liked seeing a round up of where all the characters wound up. It's somewhat bittersweet to be seeing this come to an end, but it's been a great ride!

Must not be that many parts left now.

All in all, though, thanks for all 319 parts, and however many parts are left.

Hey! Sorry I haven't replied much lately. Not enough time in the day it seems.

No problem. Heck, if anyone understands being run down by RL, it's me.

Liked seeing a round up of where all the characters wound up. It's somewhat bittersweet to be seeing this come to an end, but it's been a great ride!

Thanks!

Must not be that many parts left now.

No, they're dwindling down.

All in all, though, thanks for all 319 parts, and however many parts are left.

You're welcome. It's been great fun, and great experience.

Ooh, it's everyone's outcomes!

Nalia's defiance, Viconia's imprisonment, Mazzy's chance to be involved with paladinish stuff, Cernd's loss... each angle is different and has a different emotion behind it. It's awesome

Ooh, it's everyone's outcomes!

Well, I thought I would give some characters a cameo.

Nalia's defiance, Viconia's imprisonment, Mazzy's chance to be involved with paladinish stuff, Cernd's loss... each angle is different and has a different emotion behind it. It's awesome

Thanks! And thank you for commenting.