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Description
Some Pain, Some Gain

Lana woke when someone softly touched her face. She smiled, still half asleep, catching the hand and pressing a soft kiss into the palm.

“Good morning, my love”, she murmured tenderly.

Then she noticed the smell.

Earth, leaves, moss, campfires... and underneath it the scent of a man, spicy, musky, not unpleasant, not at all...

But not Casavir’s smell.

Why did it not smell like Casavir?

Because Casavir is gone.

The familiar pain clenched her stomach and she woke up completely, opening her eyes, to find Bishop’s face looming over her.

“Well, that certainly was more welcoming than I dared to hope”, he said, smiling.

The pain mixed with embarrassment and as usual resulted in anger. She let go of his hand, pushing against his chest violently, sending him sprawling backwards.

“Oh, you’re so full of yourself, wolf boy, it makes me want to heave”, she hissed, her eyes narrowed to green slits. “Do that again and I’ll have your guts for garters, take my word on it!”

She got up and stomped over to the pond, sitting down to splash water on her face.

The bastard! How dare he?

She felt tears rising to her eyes and tried to push them back. She had not cried for Casavir since... well, for days. Maybe weeks.

I’m not letting Bishop see me cry!

But it was of no use. Finding the other side of the bed empty each morning, it hurt, hurt like hell, but she had gotten used to it. But having someone touch her, tenderly, thinking it was Casavir and then remembering him gone... it was too much. She could not even have explained it to anyone, but it just was too much.

She sat at the edge of the water, tears running down her face, her shoulders shaking, fighting to keep the noise inside, clenching her jaw so the sobs wouldn’t escape. Because she knew that as soon as she let the sobs out, she would break down crying. And she would not break down. No way was she going to break down.

She felt someone nudging her back and whirled round, ready to fry the bastard if he dared to come after her, dared to gloat.

But it was only Karnwyr, standing before her, his wolf face level with hers since she sat crouched.

She drew a shaking breath, rubbing her eyes, trying to force the tears down once more. When she lowered her hands, the wolf gave them a tentative lick, whined softly and moved closer, rubbing his head against her.

She put her arms around the animal, burying her face in the soft fur of his neck. Breathing slowly, deliberately, she fought for control. Gradually, the need to fall to the ground, bawling like a baby, subsided, leaving the also familiar feeling of emptiness behind.

And her nose started to register again.

She lifted her face from Karnwyr’s neck, making a face. “I think you could use a bath, too, furface”, she said, thickly, her voice not yet steady again.

He tried to lick her face, but she grabbed the loose skin on his neck, holding him back.

“Sorry”, she said softly. “Still don’t want to be kissed by you. But thanks for being there.”

His tongue lolled out and he grinned at her. She shook her head and splashed some more water on her face, to rinse away the stains of the tears, and cool her heated skin.

I probably look horrible... my face red and splotchy, my eyes swollen...

And why do you care?

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t care. She just did not want Bishop to see he made her cry. His head would probably get so big it would explode.

She cooled her face some more, and her temper seemed to cool down with it. She actually started to feel a bit guilty for biting his nose off like that.

He doesn’t know. Couldn’t know.

But she’d be damned if she apologised to him.

If he kept his ruddy fingers to himself, that would not have happened. His own damn fault.

She’d just act as if nothing had happened.

She got up, gave Karnwyr’s head another pat and went back to the camp, trying very hard to look normal. Hopefully her face was not blotchy anymore...

Bishop sat on his bedroll, chewing, watching her approach with a carefully neutral expression on his face. She tried to ignore the awkward situation, sat down on her bedroll as well and avoided looking into his face.

“What’s for breakfast?”, she asked, still trying for normalcy.

He wordlessly handed her a piece of cold meat from yesterday’s dinner. She took it and started to chew.

Yummy, cold meat for breakfast.

We should try to find an inn for tonight.

The thought made her remember that very likely, as soon as they reached the first signs of civilisation, there would be no “we” anymore. They would go on their separate ways, no need to stick together anymore.

Now, why did that thought make her less than happy?

The truth was, she hated being alone. Travelling alone was even worse. Men seemed to find her “cute”. And that seemed to be a synonym for “easy prey”. The greatsword on her back managed to discourage some of them, but too many did not get the hint. She’d grown tired of having to refuse more or less flattering offers progressively less polite, and in the end give a demonstration of her powers to get rid of the most stupid ones.

Yes, travelling alone was a drag. So no wonder she did not want to see him go.

Right.

“Any idea where we are?”, she asked, to break a silence that was getting oppressive.

He shrugged. “Not really. Probably a lot nearer to Luskan than we started out, so I thought we should keep heading south until we hit a road. Other than that, no, no idea.”

“Fine, then”, she said, preparing to get up. “We should get started.”

He caught her hand. “Lana”, he said, softly.

She looked up, into his face, a feeling of apprehension rising in her.

“I’m sorry if I said something to hurt you. I did not mean to. I did not think. Please don’t be mad at me.”

She swallowed, trying to avoid his strange honey coloured eyes. Damn him, why did he have to be so bloody nice? You could not dislike someone properly if they insisted on being nice all the time.

“I’m not mad anymore”, she grumbled, still looking away, ripping her hand out of his. “I just want to be off.” She practically jumped to her feet and started to collect her stuff.

He sighed. “That was not very convincing”, he said. “But if you wish – let’s be off.” With that, he also started packing.

They marched the day in silence, more or less. Sometimes, Bishop turned to see if Lana was still following him. Once or twice, he seemed to want to say something, but then he just turned around and proceeded through the woods.

Lana stumbled after him, cursing him, cursing the blasted thickets they had to crawl through, cursing the warm weather that made her sweat and huff, and most of all, cursing that no good hussy that had put them into that situation in the first place.

If it had not been for her, I’d be halfway to Waterdeep by now!

Karnwyr kept bouncing ahead, running back, hopping around them, yipping, bouncing ahead again, until she cursed him, too. It made her dizzy. And envious of the wolf’s energy.

In the late afternoon, they stepped out of the trees to find a lane running from east to west.

Oh thank the gods.

She had it up to her ears with trudging through the woods.

Bishop turned to her. “Where to now, fearless leader?”

“What do I know? You’re supposed to be the blasted scout here!”

He looked at her, then shook his head. “I don’t know what I did to put you into such a foul mood, but whatever it was, I apologise, ok?” He paused and added: “I guess this road leads to Longsaddle in the east, and to Neverwinter in the west. Jaluth would expect us to go to Neverwinter, I think – so I would propose Longsaddle. And I would feel better if we kept off the road, if you want my humble opinion.”

Keeping off the road?

More blasted undergrowth?

She looked along the rutted path longingly. In comparison to crawling through the bushes it seemed downright comfortable.

She heard Bishop chuckle. Then he said: “I get the message. Fine, we’ll stick to the road. And hope for the best.”

Lana was so thankful she did not even feel annoyed about him laughing at her.

They wandered along the path, and soon, the forest gave way to grassland and farms.

“We’re nearer to Longsaddle than I thought”, Bishop remarked. “It’s a relatively small town, but an important centre for cattle and horse trade, and market is held there rather often. Let’s hope it’s not overrun by marketgoers right now.”

Come dusk, the first buildings of a small hamlet came into view. As they neared the village, Lana could make out the outline of a building in the middle, built atop a small hill. It seemed like the brainchild of a lunatic, very large, with several extensions and outbuildings and numerous spires rising into the evening sky.

“What is that building?”, Lana asked.

Bishop shrugged. “Home of some mage family. They kind of own this town. But the people here seem to like them, so I guess they can’t be like our dear friend Jaluth.”

She looked at him searchingly. “For someone who lost his memory, you sure seem to know a lot.”

He held her gaze, answering. “I do remember a lot. Everything not concerning myself, it seems. It’s only my personal history that is gone.”

She hesitated for a moment. “You never told me... what have you been up to these last months? I mean, without your memory... it must have been harsh.”

He nodded. “It was. At first... I was so lost. I did not know what to do, where to go. So I mainly kept to the woods, because somehow, I still knew my way around there. Only recently I found the courage to go under people. I hoped that I might encounter someone, something that would bring my memory back. And I have. I have met you.” He smiled at her.

“But that did not bring your memory back”, she pointed out.

“No”, he said. “But at least you were able to tell me something – even if I did not like what I heard. And I don’t feel as alone anymore. Karnwyr kept me company, but sometimes, it’s just nice to be able to talk to another human being.” He paused, than added, hesitatingly: “I did not have to look for work, because I found myself carrying a surprising amount of gold. After what you told me about myself, I could not help but wonder... how did I come by that much money? Should I feel worried about that...?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Our travels together put a lot of money in all our pockets. That was the main reason you hung around as long as you did, I think.” Fleetingly, she thought of the times he tried to get her to run off with him, of the strange light in his eyes then, but shoved the images away. “It made you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”, she concluded. “So don’t worry about the money, it’s not ill gotten.”

He nodded, seemingly relieved, just as they entered the small town.

Bishop pointed at a building ahead which looked like it had started out as a barn. “That’s the Gilded Horseshoe, the inn here. I seem to remember them serving a fantastic turkey.”

“Oh, thank the gods”, she sighed. “A proper meal. And hopefully a bath. And a soft bed for the night. Pure bliss awaits.”

He grinned. “I take it you did not like my hospitality last night.”

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so grumpy all day. But I guess I’m just not forest girl. I prefer my bath warm, my dinner properly cooked and seasoned, and my bed soft, in a room with four walls and a roof. I’m a wimp, so sue me.”

He laughed, took her hand and squeezed it softly. “I wonder if I could teach you to love the wilds like I do. It’s wondrous, you know, if you know your way around. It’s freedom. No master, no bounds, no obligations. Just you and your wit and skills.”

She stared at the ground, pulling her hand out of his. “Are you offering to run away with me into the woods again?”

“Maybe I am”, he said softly. “What would you say if I did?”

She shook her head, wondering why her chest felt so tight. “I’d have to decline, like the last two times.”

They walked up to the door of the inn in silence. When Lana reached out for the door, he put his hand on the handle, turning to her.

“Why?”, he said, his voice low. “Is there anywhere else you have to be?”

She stood under the softly creaking sign with the golden horseshoe on it, desperately wishing herself miles away.

“Drop it, Bishop”, she said, wearily. “I just can’t. I won’t. Don’t want to. That’s all there is to say.”

Wordlessly, he pushed the door open and stood back to let her enter.

Later, she found herself lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling of the room. Sleep did not want to find her tonight, it seemed.

She thought back at the last few hours. She had taken her much needed bath, with soap this time, and then they had met for dinner in the taproom. The inn really seemed to have started out as a barn, so the walls were not as well fitted as one would expect. The owner, an elderly, overweight, good-natured fellow with a scraggly white beard, had countered the constant draughts by hanging a multitude of furs and covers along the walls which made the taproom look oddly like a tent.

The turkey had been all Bishop had promised it to be. But while the food was great, the conversation during dinner had been strained. They both had carefully avoided possible sensitive topics, which left them preciously little to talk about. The forced, artificial flow of small talk that resulted felt very strange after the companionship they had shared during the last days.

Lana had realised with a shock how close they had grown in such short time. She did not like that at all. She did not want to feel close to Bishop. She realised she would miss him once they parted ways, and that would not do at all.

And now she was lying in the semi-darkness, listening to Bishop toss and turn in his bed. Maybe he was having a nightmare. Small wonder after what had happened.

They had taken a room together, because they did not want to split up for the night. For security, of course. What else?

“No....”, she heard Bishop moan in his sleep. “No... please, no... NOOOOOOO!”

She jumped out of bed, running to his side, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him. “Bishop”, she called out. “Wake up! It’s a dream, it’s only a dream!”

He opened his eyes, staring at her, disorientation and confusion plain on his face. She could see tear stains on his cheeks.

“Oh gods...”, he whispered, starting to shiver.

“Shhhh”, she said, softly wiping the tears away. “It’s all right, it was just a dream. We’re safe. Did you dream of Jaluth?”

“No”, he said, his voice shaking. “Not Jaluth. There was a fire... a big fire, a whole village burning, I think. People burning, crying out in agony, all around... and I was watching, and I laughed. I wanted to cry, but I forced myself to laugh.”

The shivering increased. “It was so vivid, it was like I really was there. Please, tell me that was only a dream.”

Slimy, stinking hells.

She had dreaded that moment. Now she would have to tell him.

She slowly shook her head, running her fingers through his hair. “No”, she said, softly. “I’m afraid it is a memory.”

Tears showed in his eyes again. “Oh gods”, he whispered. “What did I do?”

“I’m not really sure, because it must have been long before we met. But you told me once – when you faced me together with Garius. Threw it into my face. So I knew who I was up against, I guess.” She swallowed, continuing to softly stroke his hair. “You told me it had been the initiation rite as a Luskan assassin. To choose a village, burn it to the ground with all the people in it. You picked your own home village.”

She stopped, not knowing what else to tell him.

He sat up, staring into her face in disbelieve. “Luskan assassin...?”, he asked, tonelessly. “Burning down my home village? Killing everyone in the process? That can’t be true. No, no, no, it can’t be true!”

She held his gaze, at a loss for words.

He started to shiver violently again. “Oh gods”, he choked out. “You really were not exaggerating when you told me I was a monster, were you?”

She wordlessly shook her head.

He laughed bitterly. “No wonder you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m truly starting to understand now. Why did you not tell me?”

“I don’t know”, she said, taking his hand. “Because it was so long ago, I think. Something you only told me about, not something I saw with my own eyes. It could even have been a lie, for all I knew. You kind of liked to brag how big and bad you were. And...”, she paused, “... I guess I thought I was a mercy you did not remember, if it was true.”

He closed his eyes, still shivering. “You should just have let Jaluth take me. Whatever she dishes out, I think I deserve it.”

She ran her hand over his stubbly cheek. “Don’t say that”, she murmured. “You’re not that man anymore.”

“No”, he said, tonelessly. “I’m not. But I have to live with what he did.”

She squeezed his hand and started to get up. “Try to sleep some more”, she said.

He fastened his grip around her hand and held her back.

“Stay with me?”, he asked, his voice low, reaching up to touch her face with his other hand. “Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. That’s all, I promise.”

She stared down into his face, his eyes showing that wounded look again, and sighed.

“Roll over a bit”, she said.

He shifted to the side of the bed, rolling to his side. She slipped under the cover, turning her back to him. His arm went around her waist, pulling her close, against his body, as he snuggled up at her, burying his face in her long, loose hair, inhaling deeply.

“Thank you”, he whispered.

Soon, his breathing went deep and even, and she knew that sleep had claimed him again.

Lana lay awake for a long time, Bishop’s arm circled around her waist, his chest pressing against her back, his breath softly stirring her hair.

Description
Some Pain, Some Gain

Lana woke when someone softly touched her face. She smiled, still half asleep, catching the hand and pressing a soft kiss into the palm.

“Good morning, my love”, she murmured tenderly.

Then she noticed the smell.

Earth, leaves, moss, campfires... and underneath it the scent of a man, spicy, musky, not unpleasant, not at all...

But not Casavir’s smell.

Why did it not smell like Casavir?

Because Casavir is gone.

The familiar pain clenched her stomach and she woke up completely, opening her eyes, to find Bishop’s face looming over her.

“Well, that certainly was more welcoming than I dared to hope”, he said, smiling.

The pain mixed with embarrassment and as usual resulted in anger. She let go of his hand, pushing against his chest violently, sending him sprawling backwards.

“Oh, you’re so full of yourself, wolf boy, it makes me want to heave”, she hissed, her eyes narrowed to green slits. “Do that again and I’ll have your guts for garters, take my word on it!”

She got up and stomped over to the pond, sitting down to splash water on her face.

The bastard! How dare he?

She felt tears rising to her eyes and tried to push them back. She had not cried for Casavir since... well, for days. Maybe weeks.

I’m not letting Bishop see me cry!

But it was of no use. Finding the other side of the bed empty each morning, it hurt, hurt like hell, but she had gotten used to it. But having someone touch her, tenderly, thinking it was Casavir and then remembering him gone... it was too much. She could not even have explained it to anyone, but it just was too much.

She sat at the edge of the water, tears running down her face, her shoulders shaking, fighting to keep the noise inside, clenching her jaw so the sobs wouldn’t escape. Because she knew that as soon as she let the sobs out, she would break down crying. And she would not break down. No way was she going to break down.

She felt someone nudging her back and whirled round, ready to fry the bastard if he dared to come after her, dared to gloat.

But it was only Karnwyr, standing before her, his wolf face level with hers since she sat crouched.

She drew a shaking breath, rubbing her eyes, trying to force the tears down once more. When she lowered her hands, the wolf gave them a tentative lick, whined softly and moved closer, rubbing his head against her.

She put her arms around the animal, burying her face in the soft fur of his neck. Breathing slowly, deliberately, she fought for control. Gradually, the need to fall to the ground, bawling like a baby, subsided, leaving the also familiar feeling of emptiness behind.

And her nose started to register again.

She lifted her face from Karnwyr’s neck, making a face. “I think you could use a bath, too, furface”, she said, thickly, her voice not yet steady again.

He tried to lick her face, but she grabbed the loose skin on his neck, holding him back.

“Sorry”, she said softly. “Still don’t want to be kissed by you. But thanks for being there.”

His tongue lolled out and he grinned at her. She shook her head and splashed some more water on her face, to rinse away the stains of the tears, and cool her heated skin.

I probably look horrible... my face red and splotchy, my eyes swollen...

And why do you care?

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t care. She just did not want Bishop to see he made her cry. His head would probably get so big it would explode.

She cooled her face some more, and her temper seemed to cool down with it. She actually started to feel a bit guilty for biting his nose off like that.

He doesn’t know. Couldn’t know.

But she’d be damned if she apologised to him.

If he kept his ruddy fingers to himself, that would not have happened. His own damn fault.

She’d just act as if nothing had happened.

She got up, gave Karnwyr’s head another pat and went back to the camp, trying very hard to look normal. Hopefully her face was not blotchy anymore...

Bishop sat on his bedroll, chewing, watching her approach with a carefully neutral expression on his face. She tried to ignore the awkward situation, sat down on her bedroll as well and avoided looking into his face.

“What’s for breakfast?”, she asked, still trying for normalcy.

He wordlessly handed her a piece of cold meat from yesterday’s dinner. She took it and started to chew.

Yummy, cold meat for breakfast.

We should try to find an inn for tonight.

The thought made her remember that very likely, as soon as they reached the first signs of civilisation, there would be no “we” anymore. They would go on their separate ways, no need to stick together anymore.

Now, why did that thought make her less than happy?

The truth was, she hated being alone. Travelling alone was even worse. Men seemed to find her “cute”. And that seemed to be a synonym for “easy prey”. The greatsword on her back managed to discourage some of them, but too many did not get the hint. She’d grown tired of having to refuse more or less flattering offers progressively less polite, and in the end give a demonstration of her powers to get rid of the most stupid ones.

Yes, travelling alone was a drag. So no wonder she did not want to see him go.

Right.

“Any idea where we are?”, she asked, to break a silence that was getting oppressive.

He shrugged. “Not really. Probably a lot nearer to Luskan than we started out, so I thought we should keep heading south until we hit a road. Other than that, no, no idea.”

“Fine, then”, she said, preparing to get up. “We should get started.”

He caught her hand. “Lana”, he said, softly.

She looked up, into his face, a feeling of apprehension rising in her.

“I’m sorry if I said something to hurt you. I did not mean to. I did not think. Please don’t be mad at me.”

She swallowed, trying to avoid his strange honey coloured eyes. Damn him, why did he have to be so bloody nice? You could not dislike someone properly if they insisted on being nice all the time.

“I’m not mad anymore”, she grumbled, still looking away, ripping her hand out of his. “I just want to be off.” She practically jumped to her feet and started to collect her stuff.

He sighed. “That was not very convincing”, he said. “But if you wish – let’s be off.” With that, he also started packing.

They marched the day in silence, more or less. Sometimes, Bishop turned to see if Lana was still following him. Once or twice, he seemed to want to say something, but then he just turned around and proceeded through the woods.

Lana stumbled after him, cursing him, cursing the blasted thickets they had to crawl through, cursing the warm weather that made her sweat and huff, and most of all, cursing that no good hussy that had put them into that situation in the first place.

If it had not been for her, I’d be halfway to Waterdeep by now!

Karnwyr kept bouncing ahead, running back, hopping around them, yipping, bouncing ahead again, until she cursed him, too. It made her dizzy. And envious of the wolf’s energy.

In the late afternoon, they stepped out of the trees to find a lane running from east to west.

Oh thank the gods.

She had it up to her ears with trudging through the woods.

Bishop turned to her. “Where to now, fearless leader?”

“What do I know? You’re supposed to be the blasted scout here!”

He looked at her, then shook his head. “I don’t know what I did to put you into such a foul mood, but whatever it was, I apologise, ok?” He paused and added: “I guess this road leads to Longsaddle in the east, and to Neverwinter in the west. Jaluth would expect us to go to Neverwinter, I think – so I would propose Longsaddle. And I would feel better if we kept off the road, if you want my humble opinion.”

Keeping off the road?

More blasted undergrowth?

She looked along the rutted path longingly. In comparison to crawling through the bushes it seemed downright comfortable.

She heard Bishop chuckle. Then he said: “I get the message. Fine, we’ll stick to the road. And hope for the best.”

Lana was so thankful she did not even feel annoyed about him laughing at her.

They wandered along the path, and soon, the forest gave way to grassland and farms.

“We’re nearer to Longsaddle than I thought”, Bishop remarked. “It’s a relatively small town, but an important centre for cattle and horse trade, and market is held there rather often. Let’s hope it’s not overrun by marketgoers right now.”

Come dusk, the first buildings of a small hamlet came into view. As they neared the village, Lana could make out the outline of a building in the middle, built atop a small hill. It seemed like the brainchild of a lunatic, very large, with several extensions and outbuildings and numerous spires rising into the evening sky.

“What is that building?”, Lana asked.

Bishop shrugged. “Home of some mage family. They kind of own this town. But the people here seem to like them, so I guess they can’t be like our dear friend Jaluth.”

She looked at him searchingly. “For someone who lost his memory, you sure seem to know a lot.”

He held her gaze, answering. “I do remember a lot. Everything not concerning myself, it seems. It’s only my personal history that is gone.”

She hesitated for a moment. “You never told me... what have you been up to these last months? I mean, without your memory... it must have been harsh.”

He nodded. “It was. At first... I was so lost. I did not know what to do, where to go. So I mainly kept to the woods, because somehow, I still knew my way around there. Only recently I found the courage to go under people. I hoped that I might encounter someone, something that would bring my memory back. And I have. I have met you.” He smiled at her.

“But that did not bring your memory back”, she pointed out.

“No”, he said. “But at least you were able to tell me something – even if I did not like what I heard. And I don’t feel as alone anymore. Karnwyr kept me company, but sometimes, it’s just nice to be able to talk to another human being.” He paused, than added, hesitatingly: “I did not have to look for work, because I found myself carrying a surprising amount of gold. After what you told me about myself, I could not help but wonder... how did I come by that much money? Should I feel worried about that...?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Our travels together put a lot of money in all our pockets. That was the main reason you hung around as long as you did, I think.” Fleetingly, she thought of the times he tried to get her to run off with him, of the strange light in his eyes then, but shoved the images away. “It made you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”, she concluded. “So don’t worry about the money, it’s not ill gotten.”

He nodded, seemingly relieved, just as they entered the small town.

Bishop pointed at a building ahead which looked like it had started out as a barn. “That’s the Gilded Horseshoe, the inn here. I seem to remember them serving a fantastic turkey.”

“Oh, thank the gods”, she sighed. “A proper meal. And hopefully a bath. And a soft bed for the night. Pure bliss awaits.”

He grinned. “I take it you did not like my hospitality last night.”

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so grumpy all day. But I guess I’m just not forest girl. I prefer my bath warm, my dinner properly cooked and seasoned, and my bed soft, in a room with four walls and a roof. I’m a wimp, so sue me.”

He laughed, took her hand and squeezed it softly. “I wonder if I could teach you to love the wilds like I do. It’s wondrous, you know, if you know your way around. It’s freedom. No master, no bounds, no obligations. Just you and your wit and skills.”

She stared at the ground, pulling her hand out of his. “Are you offering to run away with me into the woods again?”

“Maybe I am”, he said softly. “What would you say if I did?”

She shook her head, wondering why her chest felt so tight. “I’d have to decline, like the last two times.”

They walked up to the door of the inn in silence. When Lana reached out for the door, he put his hand on the handle, turning to her.

“Why?”, he said, his voice low. “Is there anywhere else you have to be?”

She stood under the softly creaking sign with the golden horseshoe on it, desperately wishing herself miles away.

“Drop it, Bishop”, she said, wearily. “I just can’t. I won’t. Don’t want to. That’s all there is to say.”

Wordlessly, he pushed the door open and stood back to let her enter.

Later, she found herself lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling of the room. Sleep did not want to find her tonight, it seemed.

She thought back at the last few hours. She had taken her much needed bath, with soap this time, and then they had met for dinner in the taproom. The inn really seemed to have started out as a barn, so the walls were not as well fitted as one would expect. The owner, an elderly, overweight, good-natured fellow with a scraggly white beard, had countered the constant draughts by hanging a multitude of furs and covers along the walls which made the taproom look oddly like a tent.

The turkey had been all Bishop had promised it to be. But while the food was great, the conversation during dinner had been strained. They both had carefully avoided possible sensitive topics, which left them preciously little to talk about. The forced, artificial flow of small talk that resulted felt very strange after the companionship they had shared during the last days.

Lana had realised with a shock how close they had grown in such short time. She did not like that at all. She did not want to feel close to Bishop. She realised she would miss him once they parted ways, and that would not do at all.

And now she was lying in the semi-darkness, listening to Bishop toss and turn in his bed. Maybe he was having a nightmare. Small wonder after what had happened.

They had taken a room together, because they did not want to split up for the night. For security, of course. What else?

“No....”, she heard Bishop moan in his sleep. “No... please, no... NOOOOOOO!”

She jumped out of bed, running to his side, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him. “Bishop”, she called out. “Wake up! It’s a dream, it’s only a dream!”

He opened his eyes, staring at her, disorientation and confusion plain on his face. She could see tear stains on his cheeks.

“Oh gods...”, he whispered, starting to shiver.

“Shhhh”, she said, softly wiping the tears away. “It’s all right, it was just a dream. We’re safe. Did you dream of Jaluth?”

“No”, he said, his voice shaking. “Not Jaluth. There was a fire... a big fire, a whole village burning, I think. People burning, crying out in agony, all around... and I was watching, and I laughed. I wanted to cry, but I forced myself to laugh.”

The shivering increased. “It was so vivid, it was like I really was there. Please, tell me that was only a dream.”

Slimy, stinking hells.

She had dreaded that moment. Now she would have to tell him.

She slowly shook her head, running her fingers through his hair. “No”, she said, softly. “I’m afraid it is a memory.”

Tears showed in his eyes again. “Oh gods”, he whispered. “What did I do?”

“I’m not really sure, because it must have been long before we met. But you told me once – when you faced me together with Garius. Threw it into my face. So I knew who I was up against, I guess.” She swallowed, continuing to softly stroke his hair. “You told me it had been the initiation rite as a Luskan assassin. To choose a village, burn it to the ground with all the people in it. You picked your own home village.”

She stopped, not knowing what else to tell him.

He sat up, staring into her face in disbelieve. “Luskan assassin...?”, he asked, tonelessly. “Burning down my home village? Killing everyone in the process? That can’t be true. No, no, no, it can’t be true!”

She held his gaze, at a loss for words.

He started to shiver violently again. “Oh gods”, he choked out. “You really were not exaggerating when you told me I was a monster, were you?”

She wordlessly shook her head.

He laughed bitterly. “No wonder you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m truly starting to understand now. Why did you not tell me?”

“I don’t know”, she said, taking his hand. “Because it was so long ago, I think. Something you only told me about, not something I saw with my own eyes. It could even have been a lie, for all I knew. You kind of liked to brag how big and bad you were. And...”, she paused, “... I guess I thought I was a mercy you did not remember, if it was true.”

He closed his eyes, still shivering. “You should just have let Jaluth take me. Whatever she dishes out, I think I deserve it.”

She ran her hand over his stubbly cheek. “Don’t say that”, she murmured. “You’re not that man anymore.”

“No”, he said, tonelessly. “I’m not. But I have to live with what he did.”

She squeezed his hand and started to get up. “Try to sleep some more”, she said.

He fastened his grip around her hand and held her back.

“Stay with me?”, he asked, his voice low, reaching up to touch her face with his other hand. “Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. That’s all, I promise.”

She stared down into his face, his eyes showing that wounded look again, and sighed.

“Roll over a bit”, she said.

He shifted to the side of the bed, rolling to his side. She slipped under the cover, turning her back to him. His arm went around her waist, pulling her close, against his body, as he snuggled up at her, burying his face in her long, loose hair, inhaling deeply.

“Thank you”, he whispered.

Soon, his breathing went deep and even, and she knew that sleep had claimed him again.

Lana lay awake for a long time, Bishop’s arm circled around her waist, his chest pressing against her back, his breath softly stirring her hair.