In The Cards

The best and most moving songs and stories often depict loss, suffering and death. The wise bard will always remember that to the people who lived the song the loss was real.

Excerpt from Ruminations of a Master Bard

Somebody was coming towards her. Now and then there was a faint rustle in the bushes, the crack of a twig underfoot. Not often, but often enough. Zaerini readied her bow and waited. Her shoulder still hurt atrociously, but she thought she could manage for a while. Maybe Gorion's murderer was coming for her, but she didn't intend to go down without a fight. Not that she thought she had any hope of actually winning one, she wasn't that delusional. No, she was still hiding in the bushes and planned to remain hidden if possible. But just in case it was the …Knight Of Swords…armored man heading for her hiding place she wanted to be prepared to defend herself if necessary. Sure, she probably wouldn't so much as dent that spiky armor with her arrow before he slaughtered her, but it was better than nothing.

And then there was a flash of pink between the trees and a girl's bright voice. "Rini? Rini, are you there?" Zaerini almost dropped her bow. Imoen?! And so it was. The half-elf emerged from cover to see her best friend smile rather nervously at her, a bow of her own slung across her shoulder.

"Heya…", the human girl said, fidgeting with the small potion bag that hung at her belt. "Er…it's me. Imoen."

Zaerini tried to keep from gaping. She failed. "Immy, what are you doing here?" she asked. "How did you find me?"

For once Imoen neither smiled nor winked. "I…well, you know I read that letter Gorion got", she said. Her dark blue eyes were very serious. "So…I was worried 'bout you. Really worried. So I…er…borrowed some stuff at the Keep and followed you both."

"You…you mean you were out there? Last night?" Please don't let her have seen Gorion die, Zaerini thought. Bad enough that I had to.

Imoen bit her lower lip. "I…was tracking you", she explained. "I lost the tracks for a while, and then this morning I found…Gorion." Suddenly there were tears in her eyes, and the next second Zaerini found herself being tightly hugged. It took her a moment or two to respond, and then she awkwardly patted Imoen's back as the younger girl cried into her shoulder.

"Oh Rini!" Imoen sobbed. "I'm so sorry for you! I mean, sure I'll miss him too, but you two were always so close. And…and at first I thought you were dead as well! I almost couldn't find your tracks, it was sheer luck that I did. Rini, you're all I've got. Well, except for Puffguts, but you know what I mean."

"Sssh…", Zaerini whispered, trying to calm the other girl. Despite everything else it felt good to resume her role as the elder sister, the one to make decisions and plans, the protective one. It gave her purpose. It made her feel stronger, more focused. She was needed. She would have to make sure Imoen was all right. "I'll live", she said. "We'll both live. We've still got each other, right? Best friends, remember?"

"Yes", Imoen agreed, the light coming back into her eyes. "Best friends."

"Can you find the way back to…to Gorion?" Zaerini asked. "I need to see that letter in case he still has it. It's the only clue I have to what's going on. And I…want to say good bye."

"Sure. I can do that."

Zaerini sighed with relief. "Good", she said. "On the way I'll tell you all about what happened last night."

"Whatever you say, sis", Imoen said, crossing her arms across her chest. "But we're going nowhere 'til you take one of my healing potions for that shoulder of yours. I felt you flinch just now when I hugged you."

She opened her pack and started digging around inside. Zaerini was surprised to see more than one healing potion, another that she recognized for a potion of Magical Speed and some sort of magic wand. "Immy?" she asked. "Where did you get all this stuff?"

"Oh, here and there", Imoen said airily, tossing her hair across her shoulder. "From the monks at the Keep."

"Uh-.huh", Zaerini said, grinning. "And I suppose they just up and gave them to you?"

For a moment Imoen affected a wounded 'Who? Me?' look, and then she grinned as well. "Weeelll", she said. "I'm pretty sure they would have, had I taken the time to explain things. But I was in a bit of a hurry. I didn't want to bother them. They have so many important things to do, like cataloguing books…and…and stuff." She waved her treasured set of lockpicks about triumphantly. "Besides, I needed the practise." And despite everything that had happened during the past day Zaerini couldn't help but laugh.

As the two girls reached the clearing of the previous night's battle there was no more laughter however. Gorion still lay where he had fallen, looking so much smaller in death than he had in life. The massive corpses of two dead ogres flanked his still form like some horrible mockery of an honor guard. Merciless sunlight trickled down between the tree branches, making the scene all the more vivid. Zaerini felt her eyes moving back and forth between her foster father's pale face and the dark spots where blood had saturated the ground. Briefly she wondered whether the smell would draw predators. Probably so. There was nothing she could do about it. She had no spade, and no time to dig a grave. The murderer could still be close by, waiting for her to come back. But there was one thing she had to do. Slowly, as if in a dream, she moved towards her foster father's corpse and knelt by his side. She closed his eyes, then touched her fingertips lightly to her lips and held them to his brow in farewell. The gray robes were still moist beneath her questing fingers as she touched them, but she forced her mind to remain cool, detached. She had to. And there was the letter now, smudged but still legible.

My friend Gorion,

Please forgive the abruptness with which I now write, but time is short and there is much to be done. What we have long feared may soon come to pass, though not in the manner foretold, and certainly not in the proper time frame. As we both know, forecasting these events has proved increasingly difficult, leaving little option other than a leap of faith. We have done what we can for those in thy care, but the time nears when we must step back and let matters take what course they will. We have, perhaps, been a touch too sheltering to this point.

Despite my desire to remain neutral in this matter, I could not, in good conscience, let events proceed without some measure of warning. The other side will move very soon, and I urge thee to leave Candlekeep this very night, if possible. The darkness may seem equally threatening, but a moving target is much harder to hit, regardless of how sparse the cover. A fighting chance is all that can be asked for at this point

Should anything go awry, do not hesitate to seek aid from travelers along the way. I do not need to remind thee that it is a dangerous land, even without our current concerns, and a party is stronger than an individual in all respects. Should additional assistance be required, I understand that Jaheira and Khalid are currently at the Friendly Arm Inn. They know little of what has passed, but they are ever thy friends and will no doubt help however they can.

Luck be with us all. I'm getting too old for this.

               E

"E?" Imoen said thoughtfully, chewing on a stray strand of hair as she pondered this new riddle. "I wonder who that is."

"No idea", Zaerini said, pocketing the letter. "But whoever he is he clearly couldn't be bothered to help. 'Remain neutral' Hah! Some friend." She pulled a hand through her flame-red hair. "We should go now, I think", she said. "I don't know what any of this means, but Gorion also mentioned these friends of his. Khalid and Jaheira at the Friendly Arm Inn. It's a start at least."

"I guess", Imoen said. "We can't very well go home, can we? The monks probably wouldn't even let us in without a valuable book, now that Gorion is gone."

Zaerini nodded. "And somehow", she said, "I doubt that my journal would count as a 'tome of great value'. Not until I get a great deal more famous anyway. Besides, old Ulraunt has wanted to get rid of me forever. With Gorion gone… No. There is no way we could go back, and it wouldn't be safe anyway, at least not for me. He's still out there somewhere."

"He?"

"The one I told you about", the half-elf said, her amber eyes distant. "Gorion's murderer. The Knight of Swords from the foretelling I did back in Candlekeep." Her even features suddenly contorted into a mask of pure rage. "He killed my father, Immy", she said, her voice all the more frightening for being so calm. "He cut him down before my eyes and I could do nothing to stop him. I can't even bury Gorion properly, but I can make a promise. Whoever that man is, wherever he is, I will find him. And then, one day when I am powerful enough, I will kill him." Then she smiled briefly and the cold light faded from her eyes. "I know that sounds terribly dramatic", she said. "I still mean it though. In fact, I even think I'll buy him a headstone. I can see the inscription right now." She cleared her throat and spoke in a solemn, echoing voice. "Here lies a guy who had spikes on the brain. Picked on the wrong girl, that earned him some pain. 'Nuff sad, now he's dead." Her grin widened and took on a feline quality. "Ah, the joy of anticipation", she said. "Let's head for the road. If we're lucky we may even reach the Friendly Arm Inn before nightfall."