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Plans in Motion

“What?”, Neeshka squeaked, indignantly, while she swallowed the last bite of Chantal’s rejected lunch. “I can’t do that! Casavir will kill me!”

“He’ll never find out”, Chantal said. “How would he know? Please. I need your help in this, I can’t do it alone.”

“I don’t even know how to do it!”

“You will find a way”, Chantal said. “You’re good at stuff like that. It’s what you do.”

Neeshka grinned at the compliment. “Ok, so I might be able to do it. But why do you think he’ll listen to me? And do you really think it will work? He might still die.”

“I know”, Chantal said, a bit ashamed of herself. Neeshka did not know everything. Bishop would not die. “But it’s the best chance he’ll get. He will listen to you. I don’t think he wants to hang. He will jump at every chance to get out.”

Neeshka shook her head slowly. “I’m not so sure. But fine, I’ll do it. Can’t hurt, eh? If he is stubborn, we will have lost nothing.” She got up. “I’ll better get going then, no time to waste. Good thing I brought a second scroll.”

Chantal got up as well. “Wait for me. I’m going to grab my stuff and come with you. If he does not listen to you, I’d like to be near. We might have to think of something else.”

“You can’t stay with us! Casavir is going to flip!”

“No, I won’t stay with you. Jump back to the Flagon, I’ll stay with Duncan. I guess he would be happy to see Bishop hang as well, so I won’t tell him anything. Casavir does not have to know I’m even there.”

Neeshka seemed relieved. “Yes, that’s good. Then he won’t yell at me. Not that he does, ever, you know? He just gets sad and disappointed.” She made a face. “So much worse, I tell you – I always wish he’d just throw a fit and get over it instead.”

Chantal had to smile a bit, in spite of her sorrows. “Bad, huh?”

Neeshka rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. I always feel like the worst shrew in the world and just come crawling, only to see him smile at me again. And with this, I’d have to do a lot of crawling, believe me!”

“We’ll have to avoid making him disappointed with you, then. He’ll never know your role in this, I promise. He can be disappointed with me all he likes, I can take it.”

“Yes, please”, Neeshka said, deeply felt. “So much better you than me!”

Chantal went to collect her things, and a couple of minutes later, they materialised in the bushes behind the Flagon. She turned to Neeshka.

“You go home. No need to let Duncan know you had anything to do with this. And please hurry – you have to deliver that message today.”

“Work, work, work”, Neeshka grumbled, but winked at Chantal. “No worries, I’ll deliver your message. I’ll be off then, have to hurry.”

With that, she waved and marched down the street in the direction of the Merchant’s Quarter. Chantal squared her shoulders and went to the entrance of the Flagon, pushing it open.

Nothing much had changed here. Since Sal was gone, Duncan did a lot of the work himself. And surely, there he was, behind the counter, polishing the wood lovingly. Instinctively, Chantal’s eyes went to the dark corner Bishop always had lurked in. Seeing it empty made her heart twist in pain, made so clear what it would mean to have him gone forever.

My life as empty as that corner.

She swallowed back the tears that threatened to rise and made her way to the counter and to Duncan. He looked up at last.

“Well, good day to you, and what can I… lass!”

He practically jumped over the counter to draw her into his arms. For a moment, Chantal hugged him back, even relishing the comfort of the smell of old beer and unwashed clothes.

When he released her to take a step back, she looked into his face, and saw the joy in there give way to guilt.

She looked him squarely in the eyes. “Hello, Uncle”, she said.

He smiled at her nervously and started polishing the wood again. “What a pleasant surprise. And what brings you to our lovely town? You have not visited your old Uncle Duncan for a long time.”

She gave him a grim smile. “Duncan, you might be many things, but you’re not stupid. So you know very well why I am here. I’m here for the trial.”

He looked up swiftly. “So you know, then?”

She just nodded.

He looked at her uncertainly. “I know you always had a soft spot for the scoundrel, but he deserves what he gets. After what he did to you, I think I’d have killed him myself, if I had been able to get my hands on him.”

She shook her head, making her voice sound as sincere as her not inconsiderable skills at lying would allow her. “I don’t have a soft spot for him. Not anymore. “

That’s true – I think I love him. You can’t call that a soft spot, can you?

“But I was the one he betrayed. And he tried to kill me. You can say I have a certain personal interest in this matter. So I am here to see what will come out of this.”

She could feel his eyes probing her, trying to gauge if she meant what she said. She carefully kept a neutral face. Duncan was not stupid, and he had a keen eye for people’s reactions. Lying to him was a challenge, to say the least.

“You will attend the trial?”, he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I won’t. But I might watch the sentence being executed.”

You bet I’m going to be there.

His eyes widened in surprise. “You will see him die? Even I don’t think I can do that, and I have not spent as much time with him as you.”

Ah, such a delicate way to put it.

She shrugged. “You did not have his dagger sticking out of your gut while he smiled at you.” She let her lips compress into a tight line.

He flinched a bit. “True, true”, he murmured, thrown, and let the subject drop.

Whew. Guess he believes me.

She smiled at him. “Can I have my old room? And maybe something to eat?”

He looked up from polishing the wood, obviously relieved that she changed the subject. “Sure, lass. Just take your things to the room, Uncle Duncan here will fix you some dinner.” He gave her a disapproving glance. “You look thinner! You’re not eating properly. Have to take better care of you.”

Not eating properly? You could say that.

But now that she had a goal, and some hope, her stomach grumbled. Food would really be nice.

Besides, I need my strength.

So she nodded, and walked along the corridor to the familiar room, the room she had lived in for so long. Until she had to move to Crossroad Keep. It all seemed so long ago, like another life.

She left her weapons and armour in her room and went back to the taproom just wearing breeches and a man’s shirt. She would not need her weapons. Not yet.

She sat with Duncan for maybe an hour, eating, talking, laughing, taking great care not to let him see the nervousness behind the calm facade. She was not sure, but she thought she managed to deceive him. Gradually, the probing looks grew less frequent, and he seemed to relax.

Good.

When she was finished with her meal, she got up and told him she had some shopping to do while in town and went outside.

Time to pay Nevalle a visit.

Neeshka walked through the door of the palace nonchalantly, looking busy. In her experience, trying to be inconspicuous made you stick out like a sore thumb. But walk in somewhere boldly, head up, everyone just assumed you had business there and no one really noticed you.

In that same confident manner, she marched through several doors, still trying to look busy, walking purposefully, but not looking at anyone directly. Looking people in the eye made them notice you, and Neeshka did not want to be noticed.

Eventually, she reached the less frequented areas of the palace. Here, she could not let herself be seen. Carefully, she sneaked down the corridors, deftly picking some locks where necessary. Once or twice, she had to slip through a door quietly and hide in the room behind it, as she heard footsteps approaching. The footsteps passed her by each time.

At last, she stepped through another door outside of the palace, to find herself in a small, flagged courtyard, surrounded on all sides by walls. No one was here.

Perfect.

Now, which cell was it? She scanned the walls with the small, barred windows set very low. There, the third window through the left. That was probably the right one. She went over to the wall, sat down and peered into the darkness below. She could make out a figure, looking up at her, but could not tell if it was the ranger. Even her eyes took some time to grow accustomed to the gloom inside.

“Who’s there?”, she heard the familiar grating voice calling up at her, accompanied by a metallic clanging.

So they do have him in chains.

“It’s me”, she said, not too loud. She did not want to attract any attention. The last thing she wanted was being found here. It would come to Casavir’s ears, and then... she shuddered. “Come over a bit, so you can hear me better.”

“I would love to”, he said, caustically. “Unfortunately, the hospitality of this establishment includes chains, let into the wall. I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay where I am. I deeply apologise for the inconvenience.”

Not in a good mood, was he?

She could not really blame him. Seemed like she had to speak up, then.

Better make it quick and be gone.

“Come to gloat, have you?”, his voice came from below again, before she could speak. “Well, have your fun and shove off.”

She huffed. “Yes, sure, this is me, sneaking in here just to have a good laugh at you. As if I did not have something better to do! Besides, believe me, after my recent experiences I don’t find prisons very funny anymore.”

There was a pause below, and some more clanking of chains. Then he said: “Fine. If that is so, what do you want, demon?”

“I want to help you, of course. Well, maybe not want, because I don’t like you, but I will.”

“That so?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “And what are you going to do, smuggle me a cake with a rasp in it?”

She giggled. “No, something much better.”

There was a pause again. Then he asked: “Why?”

“Why what?”, Neeshka said, nonplussed.

“What do you think, why? Why are you going to help me, if that is what you’re doing? At the moment it seems to me you’re just trying to piss me off. Very successfully, believe me.”

She giggled again. “Language, Sir. Shouldn’t you try to be nice to the girl come to bust your ass out of here?”

“At the moment the only nice thought I have is about strangling you with these chains here. Are you going to tell me or not?”, he snapped.

Neeshka pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“Well, excuse me if all this impending death business puts a little damper on my humour. I’m a bit sensitive that way. Now, either tell me or split, will you?”

Ugh, sarcasm again.

She sighed. “Fine, be like that. I’m here because you got my ass out of prison. I thought it behoved me to return the favour. You could at least be a little grateful.”

“Like you were?” She could practically see the sneer on his face.

“Well, I was. Sort of.”

“So am I. Sort of. At least, if you get around to telling me anything about it some time in the future.”

“Gods, you’re grumpy. Ok, here’s what you do.”

And Neeshka told him everything Chantal had instructed her to. He seemed to listen intently, not saying a word. Occasionally, she could hear the chains as he shifted position, but that were the only noises from below. After she had finished, there was a long silence. Then he said:

“Whose idea was this?”

“Mine”, she lied. “Casavir would flip if he even knew I was talking to you.” That part was perfectly true.

“And where’s the Captain?”

His voice held a good amount of scorn. Neeshka grinned.

Nice try, boy.

“She went back to the Mere after you left.” Perfectly true. The best way of lying was always to keep to the truth, but simply not to answer the question, just make it look like you did. That way, you sounded absolutely sincere.

“Does she know?”

“Casavir decided that we should not tell her”, was Neeshka’s answer. And that still was the truth. She grinned to herself.

Bishop snorted. “Figures.”

“So, will you do it?”, she asked.

Silence again. Then he said: “I might still die. Not much of a rescue.”

“Yep”, she said. “You might still die. Or you might get free. And if you die, you will at least go down fighting. So much better than dangling from a rope, don’t you think?”

She could practically hear him thinking.

“Got me there”, he said, at last. “I’ll do it.”

“Great”, she squeaked. “I’ll be off then. Good luck.”

She got up to her feet, when she heard a sound from below she never had thought she would hear from the ranger.

“Thanks”, he said. And sounded as if he meant it.

Description
Plans in Motion

“What?”, Neeshka squeaked, indignantly, while she swallowed the last bite of Chantal’s rejected lunch. “I can’t do that! Casavir will kill me!”

“He’ll never find out”, Chantal said. “How would he know? Please. I need your help in this, I can’t do it alone.”

“I don’t even know how to do it!”

“You will find a way”, Chantal said. “You’re good at stuff like that. It’s what you do.”

Neeshka grinned at the compliment. “Ok, so I might be able to do it. But why do you think he’ll listen to me? And do you really think it will work? He might still die.”

“I know”, Chantal said, a bit ashamed of herself. Neeshka did not know everything. Bishop would not die. “But it’s the best chance he’ll get. He will listen to you. I don’t think he wants to hang. He will jump at every chance to get out.”

Neeshka shook her head slowly. “I’m not so sure. But fine, I’ll do it. Can’t hurt, eh? If he is stubborn, we will have lost nothing.” She got up. “I’ll better get going then, no time to waste. Good thing I brought a second scroll.”

Chantal got up as well. “Wait for me. I’m going to grab my stuff and come with you. If he does not listen to you, I’d like to be near. We might have to think of something else.”

“You can’t stay with us! Casavir is going to flip!”

“No, I won’t stay with you. Jump back to the Flagon, I’ll stay with Duncan. I guess he would be happy to see Bishop hang as well, so I won’t tell him anything. Casavir does not have to know I’m even there.”

Neeshka seemed relieved. “Yes, that’s good. Then he won’t yell at me. Not that he does, ever, you know? He just gets sad and disappointed.” She made a face. “So much worse, I tell you – I always wish he’d just throw a fit and get over it instead.”

Chantal had to smile a bit, in spite of her sorrows. “Bad, huh?”

Neeshka rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. I always feel like the worst shrew in the world and just come crawling, only to see him smile at me again. And with this, I’d have to do a lot of crawling, believe me!”

“We’ll have to avoid making him disappointed with you, then. He’ll never know your role in this, I promise. He can be disappointed with me all he likes, I can take it.”

“Yes, please”, Neeshka said, deeply felt. “So much better you than me!”

Chantal went to collect her things, and a couple of minutes later, they materialised in the bushes behind the Flagon. She turned to Neeshka.

“You go home. No need to let Duncan know you had anything to do with this. And please hurry – you have to deliver that message today.”

“Work, work, work”, Neeshka grumbled, but winked at Chantal. “No worries, I’ll deliver your message. I’ll be off then, have to hurry.”

With that, she waved and marched down the street in the direction of the Merchant’s Quarter. Chantal squared her shoulders and went to the entrance of the Flagon, pushing it open.

Nothing much had changed here. Since Sal was gone, Duncan did a lot of the work himself. And surely, there he was, behind the counter, polishing the wood lovingly. Instinctively, Chantal’s eyes went to the dark corner Bishop always had lurked in. Seeing it empty made her heart twist in pain, made so clear what it would mean to have him gone forever.

My life as empty as that corner.

She swallowed back the tears that threatened to rise and made her way to the counter and to Duncan. He looked up at last.

“Well, good day to you, and what can I… lass!”

He practically jumped over the counter to draw her into his arms. For a moment, Chantal hugged him back, even relishing the comfort of the smell of old beer and unwashed clothes.

When he released her to take a step back, she looked into his face, and saw the joy in there give way to guilt.

She looked him squarely in the eyes. “Hello, Uncle”, she said.

He smiled at her nervously and started polishing the wood again. “What a pleasant surprise. And what brings you to our lovely town? You have not visited your old Uncle Duncan for a long time.”

She gave him a grim smile. “Duncan, you might be many things, but you’re not stupid. So you know very well why I am here. I’m here for the trial.”

He looked up swiftly. “So you know, then?”

She just nodded.

He looked at her uncertainly. “I know you always had a soft spot for the scoundrel, but he deserves what he gets. After what he did to you, I think I’d have killed him myself, if I had been able to get my hands on him.”

She shook her head, making her voice sound as sincere as her not inconsiderable skills at lying would allow her. “I don’t have a soft spot for him. Not anymore. “

That’s true – I think I love him. You can’t call that a soft spot, can you?

“But I was the one he betrayed. And he tried to kill me. You can say I have a certain personal interest in this matter. So I am here to see what will come out of this.”

She could feel his eyes probing her, trying to gauge if she meant what she said. She carefully kept a neutral face. Duncan was not stupid, and he had a keen eye for people’s reactions. Lying to him was a challenge, to say the least.

“You will attend the trial?”, he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I won’t. But I might watch the sentence being executed.”

You bet I’m going to be there.

His eyes widened in surprise. “You will see him die? Even I don’t think I can do that, and I have not spent as much time with him as you.”

Ah, such a delicate way to put it.

She shrugged. “You did not have his dagger sticking out of your gut while he smiled at you.” She let her lips compress into a tight line.

He flinched a bit. “True, true”, he murmured, thrown, and let the subject drop.

Whew. Guess he believes me.

She smiled at him. “Can I have my old room? And maybe something to eat?”

He looked up from polishing the wood, obviously relieved that she changed the subject. “Sure, lass. Just take your things to the room, Uncle Duncan here will fix you some dinner.” He gave her a disapproving glance. “You look thinner! You’re not eating properly. Have to take better care of you.”

Not eating properly? You could say that.

But now that she had a goal, and some hope, her stomach grumbled. Food would really be nice.

Besides, I need my strength.

So she nodded, and walked along the corridor to the familiar room, the room she had lived in for so long. Until she had to move to Crossroad Keep. It all seemed so long ago, like another life.

She left her weapons and armour in her room and went back to the taproom just wearing breeches and a man’s shirt. She would not need her weapons. Not yet.

She sat with Duncan for maybe an hour, eating, talking, laughing, taking great care not to let him see the nervousness behind the calm facade. She was not sure, but she thought she managed to deceive him. Gradually, the probing looks grew less frequent, and he seemed to relax.

Good.

When she was finished with her meal, she got up and told him she had some shopping to do while in town and went outside.

Time to pay Nevalle a visit.

Neeshka walked through the door of the palace nonchalantly, looking busy. In her experience, trying to be inconspicuous made you stick out like a sore thumb. But walk in somewhere boldly, head up, everyone just assumed you had business there and no one really noticed you.

In that same confident manner, she marched through several doors, still trying to look busy, walking purposefully, but not looking at anyone directly. Looking people in the eye made them notice you, and Neeshka did not want to be noticed.

Eventually, she reached the less frequented areas of the palace. Here, she could not let herself be seen. Carefully, she sneaked down the corridors, deftly picking some locks where necessary. Once or twice, she had to slip through a door quietly and hide in the room behind it, as she heard footsteps approaching. The footsteps passed her by each time.

At last, she stepped through another door outside of the palace, to find herself in a small, flagged courtyard, surrounded on all sides by walls. No one was here.

Perfect.

Now, which cell was it? She scanned the walls with the small, barred windows set very low. There, the third window through the left. That was probably the right one. She went over to the wall, sat down and peered into the darkness below. She could make out a figure, looking up at her, but could not tell if it was the ranger. Even her eyes took some time to grow accustomed to the gloom inside.

“Who’s there?”, she heard the familiar grating voice calling up at her, accompanied by a metallic clanging.

So they do have him in chains.

“It’s me”, she said, not too loud. She did not want to attract any attention. The last thing she wanted was being found here. It would come to Casavir’s ears, and then... she shuddered. “Come over a bit, so you can hear me better.”

“I would love to”, he said, caustically. “Unfortunately, the hospitality of this establishment includes chains, let into the wall. I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay where I am. I deeply apologise for the inconvenience.”

Not in a good mood, was he?

She could not really blame him. Seemed like she had to speak up, then.

Better make it quick and be gone.

“Come to gloat, have you?”, his voice came from below again, before she could speak. “Well, have your fun and shove off.”

She huffed. “Yes, sure, this is me, sneaking in here just to have a good laugh at you. As if I did not have something better to do! Besides, believe me, after my recent experiences I don’t find prisons very funny anymore.”

There was a pause below, and some more clanking of chains. Then he said: “Fine. If that is so, what do you want, demon?”

“I want to help you, of course. Well, maybe not want, because I don’t like you, but I will.”

“That so?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “And what are you going to do, smuggle me a cake with a rasp in it?”

She giggled. “No, something much better.”

There was a pause again. Then he asked: “Why?”

“Why what?”, Neeshka said, nonplussed.

“What do you think, why? Why are you going to help me, if that is what you’re doing? At the moment it seems to me you’re just trying to piss me off. Very successfully, believe me.”

She giggled again. “Language, Sir. Shouldn’t you try to be nice to the girl come to bust your ass out of here?”

“At the moment the only nice thought I have is about strangling you with these chains here. Are you going to tell me or not?”, he snapped.

Neeshka pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“Well, excuse me if all this impending death business puts a little damper on my humour. I’m a bit sensitive that way. Now, either tell me or split, will you?”

Ugh, sarcasm again.

She sighed. “Fine, be like that. I’m here because you got my ass out of prison. I thought it behoved me to return the favour. You could at least be a little grateful.”

“Like you were?” She could practically see the sneer on his face.

“Well, I was. Sort of.”

“So am I. Sort of. At least, if you get around to telling me anything about it some time in the future.”

“Gods, you’re grumpy. Ok, here’s what you do.”

And Neeshka told him everything Chantal had instructed her to. He seemed to listen intently, not saying a word. Occasionally, she could hear the chains as he shifted position, but that were the only noises from below. After she had finished, there was a long silence. Then he said:

“Whose idea was this?”

“Mine”, she lied. “Casavir would flip if he even knew I was talking to you.” That part was perfectly true.

“And where’s the Captain?”

His voice held a good amount of scorn. Neeshka grinned.

Nice try, boy.

“She went back to the Mere after you left.” Perfectly true. The best way of lying was always to keep to the truth, but simply not to answer the question, just make it look like you did. That way, you sounded absolutely sincere.

“Does she know?”

“Casavir decided that we should not tell her”, was Neeshka’s answer. And that still was the truth. She grinned to herself.

Bishop snorted. “Figures.”

“So, will you do it?”, she asked.

Silence again. Then he said: “I might still die. Not much of a rescue.”

“Yep”, she said. “You might still die. Or you might get free. And if you die, you will at least go down fighting. So much better than dangling from a rope, don’t you think?”

She could practically hear him thinking.

“Got me there”, he said, at last. “I’ll do it.”

“Great”, she squeaked. “I’ll be off then. Good luck.”

She got up to her feet, when she heard a sound from below she never had thought she would hear from the ranger.

“Thanks”, he said. And sounded as if he meant it.