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Description
Plans Revealed

Neeshka sat in the living room of the little house she shared with Casavir, anxiously chewing her nails.

How long can some stupid trial take?

She just hoped all went according to plan. If Bishop managed to claim his innocence halfway plausible, he would gain the right to call for trial by combat. Then he would stand a chance. If he won the challenge, he would walk free.

And someone else will pay with his life for that.

If he lost, he would die anyway. But it seemed better to go down fighting for your life than dangling from a rope, dying slowly, painfully from strangulation.

It still did not seem right that someone else would have to die for the ranger’s freedom. But Chantal had been so desperate, Neeshka could not stand seeing her like this. So she had helped. Even if she did not like the ranger, she could not bear Chantal suffering even more.

If it had been Casavir, I would have done the same, to hell with the consequences.

Oh yes, Neeshka understood Chantal perfectly well, even if the plan did seem ruthless.

The things we do for love.

Did Bishop love Chantal? Neeshka was not sure. But there had to be something. She had been asking around, and she heard some pretty interesting things. Including rumours that the Greycloak had been badmouthing Chantal before Bishop attacked. It was funny, in a way. Bishop, getting caught because he defended Chantal’s honour? If that wasn’t irony, Neeshka was a virgin.

But now she had to admit her conscience was acting up. Unfortunately, she still had one, and sometimes it even made its presence known.

Casavir’s bad influence.

Stupid conscience really could make life uncomfortable. Right now, it tried to tell her that she had done something very wrong. Something that might cost an innocent life, just to set a murderer free. Something that Casavir would very much disapprove of.

La, la, la. So not listening. Just shut up, will you?

She had lied to Casavir. She had acted behind his back. She had betrayed his trust. And she might have caused the death of an innocent. Might have caused grief and suffering for his family, if Bishop killed someone tomorrow.

How long can that stupid trial take?

The sound of the door opening made her whirl round. Casavir stormed into the room, his face dark, his teeth clenched, fury blazing in his eyes. Neeshka swallowed.

Guess it worked, then.

“I don’t believe this”, Casavir started to rage before she could utter a word. “That filthy, murderous, back-stabbing, lying, traitorous bastard dared to invoke a trial by combat! A holy ritual of Tyr, demeaned and abused by that scum, only to avoid his well-deserved punishment! The sheer audacity of it makes me want to kill him with my bare hands!”

He growled and punched the wall with his fist. Neeshka flinched at the noise.

He’s not taking it well, is he?

But she also felt a new fear rising in her.

What if Casavir volunteers as Champion? He hates Bishop so much...

She felt her blood run cold. How could she not have thought of that before? It was logical! Casavir hated Bishop with all his heart. He would want to see to it that the ranger got his comeuppance. Personally.

As if he read her thoughts, Casavir continued: “Of course, I went to Nevalle immediately, to tell him I would be honoured to act as Champion for Neverwinter, to see to it that justice would not be made a laughing matter. To make sure that justice would find that cursed man at last.”

Neeshka looked up at Casavir, her eyes huge, her stomach one small icy ball of fear.

What have I done?

Casavir was pacing up and down the room, unsuspecting of the horror that was gripping his beloved. He growled again.

“And what did he tell me? That there already was a volunteer! Can you believe that? I went immediately after the trial, and someone already volunteered! Nevalle did not even want to tell me who that was, so I might convince him to let me take his place! He said it was confidential! Ha! Confidential!” He struck the wall again.

Neeshka closed her eyes for a moment, relief making her feel weak.

Thank the gods for that.

“I can only hope that it is someone who can hold his own against that blasted ranger! As much as I hate him, I have to admit that he is a foe one should take seriously. A dangerous foe. Wonder whoever that is, if he knows what he is up against. I don’t want to see that scum walk free, because they sent someone in who can’t stand against him!”

As the relief subsided at bit, Neeshka’s brain started working again.

There already was a volunteer? Immediately after the trial?

Oh, my.

The realisation hit her like a slap to the face.

She tricked me!

How can that be? I am the tricky one here!

But she could not deny Chantal had beaten her at her own game.

Hells, hells, hells!

If Chantal faced Bishop in the arena tomorrow, what would happen? Would she be able to kill him? Well, she sure could stand against him in terms of her combat abilities – but would she be willing to kill the man she loved?

Somehow, Neeshka doubted that.

About the ranger she had less doubts.

The icy ball that had been her stomach formed again after having relaxed for a few short moments.

There would be an innocent dead tomorrow.

Chantal.

And the ranger would walk free.

She’s going to trade her life for his.

It made absolute sense. Chantal had said she could not bear it if Bishop died. So she would die in his place. And Neeshka had helped her achieving that.

I think I’m going to faint.

She realised Casavir had knelt down beside her and was drawing her into his arms.

“Everything all right, my love?”, he asked, concerned. “You look white as a sheet. I am sorry, I should have brought you these news more gently. I know this comes as a shock. But I was so furious. Forgive me.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Neeshka wound her arms around him, burying her face in his neck.

If he ever finds out, he will kill me.

“I’m fine”, she said, sounding weak even in her own ears. “It’s just so... unexpected.”

Casavir snorted. “Unexpected? Yes, but I wonder why. I should have known he would find a way to save his hide. He always finds one. I only hope that whoever they send in tomorrow will strike him down. I will pray to Tyr for that, pray that he does not suffer one of his holy rituals be mocked like this, turned into a farce. I will pray the ranger finds his death tomorrow.”

Neeshka closed her eyes, trying to suppress the shiver that went through her.

I really doubt it will happen that way.

An hour later, Neeshka was hurrying through the docks, in the direction of the Sunken Flagon. She had to let some time pass before leaving the house after the news, lest she raised Casavir’s suspicion.

So she had stayed for some time, talking to him about the unbelievable affront Bishop had committed, feigning disbelief and outrage, all the time hoping he would not see though the act.

As soon as possible, she had pretended to have some important errands to make, and left the house, nearly running down the streets. She had to talk to Chantal, try and talk her out of this.

I can’t let her do it!

But what was she to do if Chantal was stubborn? Talk to Casavir? Admit to her role in all that? She shuddered.

I can’t.

But if she did not, Chantal would let herself be killed tomorrow. Neeshka could not allow that to happen. All the more since she knew she was to blame for it. At least partly.

I can’t believe I did not see through it right from the start!

Maybe she was losing her edge, living contentedly, protected, sheltered and in luxury with Casavir. It made her complacent, dulled her usually sharp wit and keen senses. Her cunning. So Chantal had been able to deceive her.

She could not even be angry about it. Chantal loved Bishop. She would do anything to save his life. Even abuse the trust of her friends. Even throw away her own life. Neeshka could understand it, in a way.

She still had to try and stop her.

But how, how? If she did not listen to reason, and Neeshka did not really expect her to, what was she to do?

I can’t tell Casavir. I simply can’t.

She came round the last bend, the Flagon looming before her.

Duncan.

Her fear eased a bit. Yes, that was the solution. If Chantal was stubborn, she’d talk to Duncan. He would think of something. Chantal was his niece. Sort of. He loved her as if she really was kin.

Plus, he won’t blab to Casavir.

She pushed the door to the inn open, scanning the dim room behind it. The room she had spent so much time in when they had started with that whole crazy saving-the-world-thing. The room where they had sat together in the evenings, drinking, talking, laughing with their friends.

She sighed at the memories. She had to admit she still missed them, even the barrel-headed dwarf. He was not so bad once you got to know him. Did not miss the conceited druid as much, maybe. Uppity woman had always looked down on her, even if she was one head shorter than Neeshka. But she still had been a lot better than that snotty sorceress. That one Neeshka did not miss at all. On the contrary, she still remembered with satisfaction the moment her twin rapiers pierced the back of the bitch, silencing her just as she tried to fry Casavir with one of her spells.

She shook her head to clear it of the memories.

More pressing matters at hand right now.

She went up to Duncan, standing behind the corner, smiling as he recognised her.

“And what can I do for an old friend?”, he said.

“I’d like to speak to Chantal, please. Which is her room?”, Neeshka said, barely concealing her anxiety.

Duncan stared at her, his eyes wide.

“But... she moved out this morning, saying she would stay with you and Casavir for a couple of days. Have you not seen her?”

Neeshka let herself sink down on one of the stools at the counter, her knees suddenly weak, the fear back to forming a ball in her stomach.

Oh, my.

Description
Plans Revealed

Neeshka sat in the living room of the little house she shared with Casavir, anxiously chewing her nails.

How long can some stupid trial take?

She just hoped all went according to plan. If Bishop managed to claim his innocence halfway plausible, he would gain the right to call for trial by combat. Then he would stand a chance. If he won the challenge, he would walk free.

And someone else will pay with his life for that.

If he lost, he would die anyway. But it seemed better to go down fighting for your life than dangling from a rope, dying slowly, painfully from strangulation.

It still did not seem right that someone else would have to die for the ranger’s freedom. But Chantal had been so desperate, Neeshka could not stand seeing her like this. So she had helped. Even if she did not like the ranger, she could not bear Chantal suffering even more.

If it had been Casavir, I would have done the same, to hell with the consequences.

Oh yes, Neeshka understood Chantal perfectly well, even if the plan did seem ruthless.

The things we do for love.

Did Bishop love Chantal? Neeshka was not sure. But there had to be something. She had been asking around, and she heard some pretty interesting things. Including rumours that the Greycloak had been badmouthing Chantal before Bishop attacked. It was funny, in a way. Bishop, getting caught because he defended Chantal’s honour? If that wasn’t irony, Neeshka was a virgin.

But now she had to admit her conscience was acting up. Unfortunately, she still had one, and sometimes it even made its presence known.

Casavir’s bad influence.

Stupid conscience really could make life uncomfortable. Right now, it tried to tell her that she had done something very wrong. Something that might cost an innocent life, just to set a murderer free. Something that Casavir would very much disapprove of.

La, la, la. So not listening. Just shut up, will you?

She had lied to Casavir. She had acted behind his back. She had betrayed his trust. And she might have caused the death of an innocent. Might have caused grief and suffering for his family, if Bishop killed someone tomorrow.

How long can that stupid trial take?

The sound of the door opening made her whirl round. Casavir stormed into the room, his face dark, his teeth clenched, fury blazing in his eyes. Neeshka swallowed.

Guess it worked, then.

“I don’t believe this”, Casavir started to rage before she could utter a word. “That filthy, murderous, back-stabbing, lying, traitorous bastard dared to invoke a trial by combat! A holy ritual of Tyr, demeaned and abused by that scum, only to avoid his well-deserved punishment! The sheer audacity of it makes me want to kill him with my bare hands!”

He growled and punched the wall with his fist. Neeshka flinched at the noise.

He’s not taking it well, is he?

But she also felt a new fear rising in her.

What if Casavir volunteers as Champion? He hates Bishop so much...

She felt her blood run cold. How could she not have thought of that before? It was logical! Casavir hated Bishop with all his heart. He would want to see to it that the ranger got his comeuppance. Personally.

As if he read her thoughts, Casavir continued: “Of course, I went to Nevalle immediately, to tell him I would be honoured to act as Champion for Neverwinter, to see to it that justice would not be made a laughing matter. To make sure that justice would find that cursed man at last.”

Neeshka looked up at Casavir, her eyes huge, her stomach one small icy ball of fear.

What have I done?

Casavir was pacing up and down the room, unsuspecting of the horror that was gripping his beloved. He growled again.

“And what did he tell me? That there already was a volunteer! Can you believe that? I went immediately after the trial, and someone already volunteered! Nevalle did not even want to tell me who that was, so I might convince him to let me take his place! He said it was confidential! Ha! Confidential!” He struck the wall again.

Neeshka closed her eyes for a moment, relief making her feel weak.

Thank the gods for that.

“I can only hope that it is someone who can hold his own against that blasted ranger! As much as I hate him, I have to admit that he is a foe one should take seriously. A dangerous foe. Wonder whoever that is, if he knows what he is up against. I don’t want to see that scum walk free, because they sent someone in who can’t stand against him!”

As the relief subsided at bit, Neeshka’s brain started working again.

There already was a volunteer? Immediately after the trial?

Oh, my.

The realisation hit her like a slap to the face.

She tricked me!

How can that be? I am the tricky one here!

But she could not deny Chantal had beaten her at her own game.

Hells, hells, hells!

If Chantal faced Bishop in the arena tomorrow, what would happen? Would she be able to kill him? Well, she sure could stand against him in terms of her combat abilities – but would she be willing to kill the man she loved?

Somehow, Neeshka doubted that.

About the ranger she had less doubts.

The icy ball that had been her stomach formed again after having relaxed for a few short moments.

There would be an innocent dead tomorrow.

Chantal.

And the ranger would walk free.

She’s going to trade her life for his.

It made absolute sense. Chantal had said she could not bear it if Bishop died. So she would die in his place. And Neeshka had helped her achieving that.

I think I’m going to faint.

She realised Casavir had knelt down beside her and was drawing her into his arms.

“Everything all right, my love?”, he asked, concerned. “You look white as a sheet. I am sorry, I should have brought you these news more gently. I know this comes as a shock. But I was so furious. Forgive me.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Neeshka wound her arms around him, burying her face in his neck.

If he ever finds out, he will kill me.

“I’m fine”, she said, sounding weak even in her own ears. “It’s just so... unexpected.”

Casavir snorted. “Unexpected? Yes, but I wonder why. I should have known he would find a way to save his hide. He always finds one. I only hope that whoever they send in tomorrow will strike him down. I will pray to Tyr for that, pray that he does not suffer one of his holy rituals be mocked like this, turned into a farce. I will pray the ranger finds his death tomorrow.”

Neeshka closed her eyes, trying to suppress the shiver that went through her.

I really doubt it will happen that way.

An hour later, Neeshka was hurrying through the docks, in the direction of the Sunken Flagon. She had to let some time pass before leaving the house after the news, lest she raised Casavir’s suspicion.

So she had stayed for some time, talking to him about the unbelievable affront Bishop had committed, feigning disbelief and outrage, all the time hoping he would not see though the act.

As soon as possible, she had pretended to have some important errands to make, and left the house, nearly running down the streets. She had to talk to Chantal, try and talk her out of this.

I can’t let her do it!

But what was she to do if Chantal was stubborn? Talk to Casavir? Admit to her role in all that? She shuddered.

I can’t.

But if she did not, Chantal would let herself be killed tomorrow. Neeshka could not allow that to happen. All the more since she knew she was to blame for it. At least partly.

I can’t believe I did not see through it right from the start!

Maybe she was losing her edge, living contentedly, protected, sheltered and in luxury with Casavir. It made her complacent, dulled her usually sharp wit and keen senses. Her cunning. So Chantal had been able to deceive her.

She could not even be angry about it. Chantal loved Bishop. She would do anything to save his life. Even abuse the trust of her friends. Even throw away her own life. Neeshka could understand it, in a way.

She still had to try and stop her.

But how, how? If she did not listen to reason, and Neeshka did not really expect her to, what was she to do?

I can’t tell Casavir. I simply can’t.

She came round the last bend, the Flagon looming before her.

Duncan.

Her fear eased a bit. Yes, that was the solution. If Chantal was stubborn, she’d talk to Duncan. He would think of something. Chantal was his niece. Sort of. He loved her as if she really was kin.

Plus, he won’t blab to Casavir.

She pushed the door to the inn open, scanning the dim room behind it. The room she had spent so much time in when they had started with that whole crazy saving-the-world-thing. The room where they had sat together in the evenings, drinking, talking, laughing with their friends.

She sighed at the memories. She had to admit she still missed them, even the barrel-headed dwarf. He was not so bad once you got to know him. Did not miss the conceited druid as much, maybe. Uppity woman had always looked down on her, even if she was one head shorter than Neeshka. But she still had been a lot better than that snotty sorceress. That one Neeshka did not miss at all. On the contrary, she still remembered with satisfaction the moment her twin rapiers pierced the back of the bitch, silencing her just as she tried to fry Casavir with one of her spells.

She shook her head to clear it of the memories.

More pressing matters at hand right now.

She went up to Duncan, standing behind the corner, smiling as he recognised her.

“And what can I do for an old friend?”, he said.

“I’d like to speak to Chantal, please. Which is her room?”, Neeshka said, barely concealing her anxiety.

Duncan stared at her, his eyes wide.

“But... she moved out this morning, saying she would stay with you and Casavir for a couple of days. Have you not seen her?”

Neeshka let herself sink down on one of the stools at the counter, her knees suddenly weak, the fear back to forming a ball in her stomach.

Oh, my.