Valygar was quietly going through his equipment and supplies in the master bedroom of Corthala Manor. His manservant came into the room carrying an assortment of packages.
“Here are the dried rations and herbs that you asked me to obtain, m'lord. Is there anything else that you wish me to do before your journey?”
“No, that's fine,” the ranger said absentmindedly. Then he turned, a quizzical expression on his face. “Hervo, we are alone. You don't need to bother with this “m'lord” business.”
The manservant broke into a grin and his voice lost its formality. “Aw, come on, Val. I haven't had a chance to play the proper servant in years. Tinira and I have been having the time of our lives.”
“I had been worried that I had over-burdened you by bringing so many guests, but I'm glad to hear that isn't the case. Oh, that reminds me. When we return, Jarran's sister will need a room. I want you to fix up the front bedchamber for her. I want it well-aired and cheerful.”
“A good choice.”
“Yes, it is the only guestroom with windows, and after her ordeal I want her to feel as free as possible.”
Hervo gave a polite cough. “Speaking of freedom, are you planning to open the locked rooms?”
Valygar gave him a hard glare. “Of course not. I have no need of them.”
The manservant walked over to the ranger's bed and sat down. “Val, how long have we known each other?”
“Since we were boys. Since….”
“Since I started hiding you in the servant's quarters when your ma would go on one of her rampages to teach you magic whether you liked it or not. And who tracked you down to tell you that your pa was so sick?”
“You, of course.”
“And it would have cost me my footman's position if my pa hadn't been the butler.”
“What is this all about, Hervo?”
“This Lavok creature is dead and dust, so why are you hanging on to the past? This oath business doesn't mean a thing now. So why don't you settle down with a nice girl and start making little Corthalas?”
“Hervo! If you weren't such a good friend….”
“Well, that's a friend's job, isn't it? To say the things you don't want to hear?”
“You know why I can never have children. Even with Lavok gone, there is still the Corthala madness in my blood. How could I curse a baby with that?”
“And how can you be sure that they would be mages? Maybe they'll grow up to love the woods and be rangers like you. Have some fun, for pity's sake! Chase some wenches, toss back some ale, sing a song! The thing you feared most will never come to pass. Lavok can't steal your body and destroy your soul. So smile!”
Valygar chuckled. “You always were the blunt sort. I'll agree to this, then. I will think about it. Satisfied?”
“I sure am. You just wait, you'll start remembering what it feels like to cuddle up to a lass and then other parts of you will start remembering things, too!”
“Hervo!”
Anomen wandered through the Hall, patiently waiting for the Prelate to come out of a council so that he could give him a last report before the ship sailed. He stopped to look at one of the statues. It reminded him of the statues in Trademeet, and he smiled.
His thoughts made the logical jump from Trademeet to Mazzy. It was such a pity that Keldorn had not returned so that he could introduce them. The halfling had accompanied him to the Order in hopes of meeting the famous knight, but was now wandering the Temple area while she waited for him to finish his business with the Prelate.
From behind he heard a voice say, “Good day, cousin.”
He turned and said with a smile, “Sir Blethyn, it is good to see you. You are still in Athkatla?”
The older knight seemed to study him sadly. “Yes, and I should have spent a great deal more time here in the past. I have heard much that has disturbed me. But enough of the past, it is time we spoke of the future, you and I.”
“The future?”
Blethyn leaned forward and said vehemently, “Yes, the future. Your father is dead, Anomen, it is time to leave him and his cruelty behind. You are free to live your own life now.”
“Why are you saying this to me?”
“Because I know how difficult your struggle has been. It has pained me to see how you have held yourself apart from others in the Order. You need a companion, Anomen.”
“I… do not know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean. For Tyr's sake, take a lover! I do not care if it is a woman, a man, or a shepherd's hound! You desperately need someone.”
“By Helm, Blethyn, you go too far!”
“Do I? Is it any coincidence that the only true lover you have ever had was when you were staying at your grandparent's estate, far away from your father?”
Anomen gasped. “How… how did you know about….”
“Sirelle told me. Nothing takes place in her home without her knowledge. You should know that by now.” As Anomen took a step back, his face pale, Blethyn said gently, “Is there someone you are close to, lad? Someone you care for?”
“There is someone I have feelings for, but not… those sort of feelings.”
“Are you sure? Many a love has started with friendship.”
“I do not care for her in that way, Blethyn. She is more like… an older sister, or an aunt. But with her, I can lower my guard and speak my heart and mind. She is special to me.”
Blethyn grinned and arched an eyebrow. “Well, if it is a she, Sirelle will be pleased that you have not succumbed to my wicked influence.”
“Grandmother may not be that pleased. The lady in question is a halfling.”
“Don't be so sure. But it is a beginning. Perhaps this halfling woman will never become your lover, but at least you will have someone to ease your pain. But I will repeat, Anomen, your father is dead. Do not be afraid to love, no matter where you find it. Do not let the memory of your father's disapproval hold you back from happiness.”
Anomen stared at him for a long moment, and said hesitantly, “What is it like for you in the Order? I have always wondered. Are you… happy?”
“Cousin, you know as well as I that things are not always simple. Most in the order accept me for what I am because I serve Tyr faithfully. There is no denying, however, that there are some who will always look at me with disdain for loving men rather than women. I simply decided that I was not going to let anything stand in the way of living my life as I choose… well, anything but Tyr's disapproval, of course. But Tyr has no objections so long as I conduct myself with honor. As for happiness….” The older knight's eyes seemed focused far away. “I was happy with Darlan. That is why I am urging you to find someone. A heart is most at peace when it is shared with another.”
“But then you risk losing them.”
“You never truly lose that sort of love. I remember when… when he was hit by that poisoned arrow. I held him in my arms and tried to heal him, but my powers were not strong enough. I screamed for a priest, then I looked down to see him trying to smile. He only managed to utter two words before he was gone. 'Perfect place'.”
“I… I see. The perfect place to die is in a lover's arms. Was there no way to raise him?”
“No. The poison was a terrible one that did too much damage for his body to be restored. But his love is a comfort that I will carry forever in my soul.” Blethyn placed his hand on Anomen's shoulder and said gently, “Go find a heart to share, cousin. Do not go through life without that joy.”
“I will try, Blethyn. I will try.”
Mazzy strolled along the walkways of the Temple District, pausing occasionally to look into the water that flowed past. The halfling felt out of sorts, and she did not know why. As she moodily stared into a canal, another halfling woman approached her.
“Greetings, sister. Are you a troubled spirit seeking comfort? I am afraid there are no temples to our gods here, but I am striving to have a shrine dedicated to the Hearthkeeper, our lady Cyrrollalee.”
“Ah, you serve Cyrrollalee? I wield my sword for Arvoreen. And… I am indeed troubled, though I am unsure as to the reason. Tomorrow I will depart Athkatla to take part in an important quest, the rescue of a young innocent girl. I am proud to do this, but at the same time I would give much to simply return home. My heart is weary.”
“Do you wish to talk of this? A burden is lighter when it is shared.”
“I… I recently lost my beloved. It was my fault. I led us into a battle we were not prepared for, and if Patrick had had his way we would not have been there at all. He was tired of adventure, and wished to marry and settle down, but I felt that my service to Arvoreen was too important to walk away from. If I had listened to him….” She closed her eyes against the memory.
“The gods give us many gifts, my sister, but perfect knowledge of the future is not one of them. What if you had married and a tragedy had befallen him? Then you would have blamed yourself for leaving the adventurous life. You know in your heart that you would have done nothing to endanger him, so do not bury yourself in sorrow.”
“But the greatest pain is that even when the day arrives that the Black Hound comes for me, I will not see him again. Patrick was turned into a shade, and his soul was destroyed. I have lost him utterly.”
“Ah, you have my deepest sympathy. But the soul is an infinite mystery, and who can tell if he is truly lost to you?”
Mazzy lifted her head and met the other woman's eyes. “You are a priestess… is there any way that you could discover this?”
The cleric looked thoughtful for a moment, then placed her hands on Mazzy's shoulders. She closed her eyes and her lips moved silently. After a few minutes, a small smile appeared on her face. “There is another soul very close to you, but I can barely sense its presence. I cannot tell you the identity of the soul, but I can say this… it is a halfling, and it is male.”
Mazzy was overwhelmed by this slender thread of hope, and she threw her arms around the priestess' neck and wept.
Molison carefully wiped off the altar in his small temple. A crying drunkard had vomited on it while slurring out a prayer, but he had become used to such occurances. One cannot serve Ilmater in an area like Athkatla's slums without seeing that sort of thing.
As he gave it a last loving swipe, he said quietly, “I do not know why you always hide in the shadows, my friend. If you wish privacy to pray, you only need to ask.”
“So you have known of my visits? I am truly dismayed to hear it. My skills must be deteriorating.”
“This is the slums. It is full of thieves, villains, and blackguards of all sorts. Even a priest of Ilmater must look over his shoulder. Do you wish to talk, or would you like me to leave?”
There was a long silence, then he heard the stranger's voice say, “Does Ilmater… forgive?”
“I am sure he forgives the truly repentant. What is the sin, my friend?”
“Cowardice. Utter cowardice.”
“And your fear has made you do things that you are ashamed of?”
“It has… and it will. I do not have the courage to die, so I commit deeds that burn my heart.”
“You must not feel….”
“Priest, I know what you will say, but I cannot tell you how this came to pass, and why I cannot escape my doom.”
“If you feel that you are doomed, then perhaps Ilmater can help you. The Crying God suffers when a soul is oppressed and in pain. If you cannot speak frankly with me, then I will let you tell your sorrows to my Lord Ilmater himself.” He started for the door to his chambers.
“Wait.”
Molison turned to see the stranger in the shadows step forward. He was not surprised to see someone from the Kara-Turan region, for the accent had marked his visitor as a foreigner. The man held out a roll of papers, and said quietly, “Someday a person may come to speak to you, and they will mention me. Give this to him, please.”
“Who is this person?”
“His name is Jarran. If I am fortunate, he will come to pray for my soul. If not… then I have received the justice I deserve.”
Without another word, the man knelt at the altar, and as Molison quietly slipped out of the room, he heard the sound of low sobs.
Jarran stood in the afternoon sun, ignoring the voices engaged in hard bargaining and the clank of gold. He heard the familiar thunk that he knew meant Jaheira was approaching. She had a particular way of tapping the ground with her staff when she walked.
The druid came to his side with just the ghost of a smile on her face. “I thought I might find you here.”
He sighed and said, “It is very depressing that the ruin of Irenicus' home is still there, taunting me. You would think that the merchants on the Promenade would demand that it be cleaned up, since it is a terrible eyesore.”
Jaheira snorted in amusement. “This is Athkatla, nothing has been done because there is no one to pay for it. Perhaps we should start a rumor that there is a fortune hidden inside one of the building stones, they would be smashed to bits in hours.”
They stood together for a while, both wrapped in their thoughts as they contemplated the spot where they had struggled to freedom. Eventually Jarran broke the silence. “After we rescue Imoen, we will come back here and find Khalid and Dynaheir. I don't care how much gold it takes, I'll hire a team of diggers and we will bring them out of there.”
“It is a sweet thought, Jarran, but it is not necessary. I know in my heart that Khalid is with Silvanus no matter where his bones lie.”
“But I can't just leave him in that place. I can't abandon him like that.” He started blinking hard.
“Jarran?”
“What if we are too late, Jaheira?”
“So we have moved from the past to the present. Do not lose hope, not now. We will find Imoen, I am sure of it.”
Jarran walked to the rubble and climbed up the shifting stones. He stopped and stared. “This is where I was lying. I could barely take in what was happening, my head was spinning and my ears were ringing. But I remember her face. She was absolutely terrified and I… could… do… nothing.” He kicked one of the rocks and it skittered across the loose gravel. “I won't fail! Not again!”
“We will not fail. Please, do not despair.”
Jarran turned to her, his face twisted in rage. “If anything has happened to her, I will kill Irenicus! I will kill every Cowled Wizard for imprisoning her! I WILL KILL THEM ALL!” His voice deepened and his eyes began to glow a harsh golden color.
“Jarran!” Jaheira gasped. “Stop it!” She slapped him across the face.
“I… I….” Jarran looked confused. He reached up and gingerly touched the red mark left by the slap. Then he pulled Jaheira into his arms and held her close. “Thank you,” he whispered.
