AN: For the longest time, I thought I had abandoned this fic. Maybe I should have. I stopped working on it because joy had been sucked out of it, my heart wasn't in it anymore, etcetera, but the Great Healer (time) has done what it can. A lot has changed in the last three years, and I should probably go back and rewrite this thing. Maybe someday, I will, but if I attempted it now, it would not end well. So let's just handwave the most glaring inconsistencies and move along. As always, comments and criticism (however harsh – and I mean it), signed or anonymous, are most welcome... as long as they show up here or via PM. Time is too precious to waste on LJ shenanigans, and mockery poisons the soul.

After the chaos of the last few days, with first the courtroom trial and then the trial by combat, and then her anxiety over Casavir's sudden, inexplicable melancholy, a calm morning of ordinary domestic activities appealed to Kayla. For a while, it looked like she might have one.

Kayla had finished her devotions by the time Casavir's bath arrived, so she busied herself mending the gashes in his old gambeson while he bathed. She would have to repeat the process with the new one, once it had been washed, but that would have to wait until the laundry was done with it. They did go through gambesons, she reflected, but that was part of The Life, as was mending gear.

They talked of inconsequential things while they were thus occupied, but Kayla was glad to be doing something that felt normal. With Casavir splashing and humming behind the screen, she could almost pretend that it was just his shirt she was mending, not once-bloody rents in a gambeson. She could pretend that the name Garius meant nothing to her, and that she might look forward to a day that included no decisions more important than whether they should buy a new wheelbarrow now or wait until after the harvest.

"Are you well, my lady?" Casavir asked. He had finished his bath and put on the clean leggings, and now stood in front of the table, toweling off his hair and peering at her anxiously.

She laughed. Her daydreams were a lot further off than she thought, if he still could not bring himself to say her name.

"My lady?" he crouched in front of her and moved to take her hand, but stopped himself after impaling himself on her needle.

"Oh Cas," she sighed, turning his hand over to look at the cut. "Everything is fine... apart from your luck. It just struck me as funny, just now, that we spend every day together, and many nights, as well. We all but live together, and you have called me by name precisely once. I suppose a forgetful man might get by for years like that, if he was careful to cultivate a polite persona."

"Have I been careful enough, my lady?" he replied soberly.

Kayla was winding up to swat him when she realized that he was joking. She swatted him anyway, and he stood up, laughing, and went back behind the screen.

She was distracted by a tap on the door.

Shandra stood in the threshold, but she pushed past her into the room as soon as the door was open wide enough to admit her.

"You have to help me," Shandra whispered anxiously.

"What's wrong?" Kayla asked.

"Have you seen my razor?" Casavir interrupted, stepping out from behind the screen. He was still shirtless, but he quickly folded his arms in an attempt to cover his bare chest.

"I'm sorry," Shandra stammered. "I didn't know you had company. Should have, but didn't."

"It's all right," Kayla brushed her apology aside. "Is something the matter?"

"I can't tell you in front of him," Shandra hissed, blushing fiercely.

"Let's step out in the hall," Kayla suggested.

Shandra just took her arm and yanked her toward the door. She did not speak again until a closed door separated her from Casavir.

"I need you to do something for me," Shandra said urgently, "and you can't tell Cas."

"All right," Kayla agreed, puzzled. "What do you want me to do?"

"I did a really, really stupid thing," Shandra said, reddening further, if it was even possible. "I slept with somebody I shouldn't have slept with, and I need you to make me something so that I don't... er... regret it even more in about nine months."

"Oh, no," Kayla groaned. "If you'd asked last night, I could have given you some nararoot to chew, but now... I don't know of anything that will help, taken afterward. Did you ask El?"

"She said she couldn't help me," Shandra said with what sounded like bitterness. "She said that there might be something in this book, but that she it went against her beliefs to attempt to prevent conception after the troops were deployed, if you know what I mean."

Shandra pulled a small, battered book out of the satchel she had slung over her arm and passed it to Kayla.

"This is in elvish, Shandra," Kayla said. "I can't read it."

"I am so screwed!" Shandra groaned.

"Maybe not," Kayla mused. "Cas had an education in the classics, poetry and literature, too. A lot of that is in elvish. Maybe he can read it."

"But then he'll know!" Shandra protested.

"It's that or ask Sand," Kayla shrugged. "At least you know that Cas will keep his mouth shut. You worry too much, though. He won't care what you did last night."

"He will if he finds out who," Shandra sighed. "It was Bishop."

"Bishop!" Kayla gasped. "Why in the nine hells would you do it with him? You hate him!"

"I know!" Shandra groaned. "And I hate him even more, now, but it seemed like a good idea last night."

"Well, let's just take one thing at a time," Kayla tried to reassure her. "And the first thing we have to do is to find out if there's something in that book that will help."

"I guess I don't have any choice," Shandra conceded.

When Kayla opened the door again, Casavir was sitting at her dressing table with a basin of water in front of him. The lower half of his face was soapy, and he had his razor pressed to his cheek.

"Do you read elvish?" Kayla asked him without preamble.

"Yes," he said, taking the razor away from his face. "A little. Is there something you wish me to read?"

"Yes," Kayla replied. "It's very important."

He sighed and toweled the soap off his face. He pulled his shirt over his head and turned to face her.

She handed him the book.

"Just read the titles," she said. "I'll explain later, but no questions now, all right?"

"As you wish," he consented. "'Relief for Monthly Tension,' 'A Cure for Impotence,' 'For the Impatient Man, a Draught to Prolong the Pleasure'... My lady, I beg you, must I really read this?"

"I'm sorry, Cas," Kayla said as soothingly as she could, "if it weren't desperately important, I wouldn't have asked. Please, keep reading."

He shot a long-suffering look over the top of the book, then drew a deep breath and let it out with a sigh.

"Please, Cas," she pleaded. "I'll tell you when you get to the one we need."

"Very well," he sighed, and looked down at the book again.

"'A Potion to Ease the Pangs of Childbirth,' 'Localized Enlargement, for the Man Who Falls Short,' 'Solitary Pleasures, or Advice on the Construction of a Wand for Every Need,' 'A Tonic for the Flagging Libido,' 'A Cure for Morning Sickness,' 'An Elixir to Close the Womb and Prevent the Quickening Thereof' -"

"Stop!" Kayla interjected. "That's the one we want."

"We do?" Casavir blanched. "How is that even possible? We didn't... we didn't. I know we didn't."

"It's for me," Shandra said heavily. "Don't ask."

"Very well," Casavir said, as if relieved to be spared the details. "I will need something to write with."

Half a candle later, Kayla and Shandra were in Sand's shop, brewing the potion that would relieve Shandra's fears, and half a candle after that, it was done. Shandra was still a bit agitated, so they remained in Sand's shop while Shandra regained her composure. It was all Kayla could do to stop herself from asking questions. She told herself that it was none of her business, and after some of the things she herself had done, it would be hypocritical of her to judge. Fortunately, Shandra seemed to feel the need to explain her actions herself.

"It was Bishop that started it," Shandra said. "He wouldn't leave me alone. All night long, he was flirting with me, and by the time you left, he was rubbing my shoulders, and nibbling on my neck, and generally making a pest of himself. Well, for some stupid reason, I thought that if I just let him kiss me, he'd be satisfied and go look for another conquest, like that might actually happen. But never mind. By the time we came up for air, I didn't even care that it was Bishop. He was that good."

Kayla blinked in surprise, but Shandra kept talking.

"I practically dragged him up to my room," Shandra went on. "And it just got better, once we were alone. He actually made me beg for it, and the worst part was that I wanted to."

"And now you regret it?" Kayla asked. She felt like she was missing something important, and that her ignorance was somehow her fault.

"Don't you get it?" Shandra asked impatiently. "It was all about the power. He had me helpless, and he loved it. The whole night was one long ego-jerk for him, and I was just there to give him the grease."

"I'm sorry," Kayla gasped, finally understanding. "That's a terrible thing to wake up to. He didn't force you to do anything, did he?"

"Hells, no," Shandra snorted. "Anything but. That's the reason I'm so angry now, because it was Bishop, and I hate him, and I begged him to hump me anyway. You want to talk about degrading!"

"I wish I knew what to say," Kayla lamented. "I can't even imagine what you must be thinking right now. But you aren't 'degraded'. You did nothing wrong."

"Easy for you to say," Shandra grumbled. "Come on, we'd better get back. If nobody's doing anything this afternoon, I want to train. Beating the crap out of something sounds really good, right about now."

"We need to go to West Harbor again," Kayla said, nibbling her lower lip. "Lorne's mother will have to be told. Not everything. She doesn't need to know that her son betrayed Neverwinter. Maybe we can tell her that he died fighting for what he believed in. And we'll have to tell Bevil. Gently. He worshiped his brother, when he was small."

"Damn, I forgot about that," Shandra sighed. "What am I going to say to Bevil?"

"'I'm sorry about your brother'?" Kayla suggested. "I don't think he'll ask any awkward questions. I doubt we'll be able to get a ship today, anyway. I hate the delay, but we'll never make the tide, and after the expense of our fact-finding tour, it may take me a day or two to free up some funds."

When they got back to the Flagon, Neeshka and Khelgar were already eating breakfast. Kayla got oatmeal for herself and Shandra and joined them. To Kayla's surprise, Bishop came over with a plate of sausages and sat down next to Shandra, putting the plate between them.

"Thought you might be hungry," he said. Kayla waited for the lewd sausage joke that she was certain would follow, but Bishop just speared a link with his knife and started eating it. Shandra, too, looked a bit baffled, though she also looked repulsed. She scooted her chair a little further away from Bishop.

"Sorry," Bishop shrugged. "Guess it's time for a bath."

Casavir set his plate down and sat beside Kayla. He was shaved, so presumably the elven recipe book had not disturbed him too much to complete his toilette.

"Hey, Cas," Khelgar called, "how's the head?"

"Well enough, thank you," Casavir replied, then amended his statement, "with some divine help."

"What's the matter, paladin," Bishop sneered, "too feeble for anything stronger than harsh language?"

No one paid him much heed.

They did not get much further into their breakfasts before a messenger in familiar livery approached them, asking for Kayla.

"I have a message from Aldanon," the messenger said. "He has additional information for you regarding the matter about which you consulted him earlier."

"Thank you," Kayla replied. "I will call on him this morning."

The messenger bowed and left.

"So, who wants to go see Aldanon?" she asked.

"I will go," Casavir said immediately.

"I wouldn't mind the walk," Khelgar said around a mouthful of bacon. "Even if he is a hopeless old windbag."

"I'll go," Neeshka added. "It's fun watching Qara scrub tables, but I can do that any time."

"I'm in," Shandra said, pointedly looking away from Bishop.

"Wouldn't hurt to go out for a stroll," Bishop said promptly.

Shandra sighed exasperatedly, but she made no further objection.

"We can stop in Sand's shop on the way," Kayla suggested. "If Aldanon has learned more about the shards, Sand will want to hear it. And I'll ask Grobnar. He didn't get to meet Aldanon last time, and I think he'll like him."

"That isn't saying much," Bishop scoffed. "Grobnar likes everybody."

"He must not be very selective, if he likes you," Shandra muttered under her breath.

Bishop just smiled, but Shandra jumped.

"Keep your hands to yourself, moron," Shandra hissed.

"Touchy, touchy!" Bishop laughed. "And that isn't what you s-"

"Just shut up!" Shandra snapped.

"You heard the lady," Casavir said menacingly. "She does not desire your attention."

Bishop shrugged and calmly ate the last sausage.

"That isn't what she said last night, either," he replied blandly.

Casavir's eyes widened abruptly, apparently remembering what he had been forced to translate and he looked at Shandra reproachfully, but he made no further comment, for which Kayla was grateful.

Grobnar capered madly at the thought of meeting a renowned sage like Aldanon, which was almost enough to make Kayla revoke her invitation, but Aldanon did have a childlike simplicity about him, for all his acumen. He might not mind Grobnar's exuberance. Sand agreed to the excursion, but his enthusiasm for the outing was less than Kayla expected. Perhaps he feared that the brilliance of his own wit would pale in comparison to Aldanon's. If so, Sand was worrying too much.

Still, they made quite the entourage. Only Qara and Elanee remained behind. With such a large party, it was only natural for them to spread out a bit as they progressed through the Merchant District on the way to Blacklake. Kayla found herself walking beside Sand while Shandra focused all her attention on Casavir, which discouraged Bishop from seeking out her company. Kayla felt a little of her old jealousy about Shandra return, but she reminded herself that if she was as disgusted with herself as Shandra probably was, she would want to do everything she possibly could to avoid the source of her regret.

The met Sergeant Brockenburn at the entrance to Blacklake.

"Thank Helm!" he cried upon seeing them. "I was just running down to the Watch for help. They got Marshal Cormick!"

"Slow down," Kayla said. "Who got him? What do you mean?"

"Thugs, thieves, I don't know," Brockenburn babbled. "There was a to-do at Aldanon's estate, and when we went to investigate, they shot Cormick! With some kind of a wand, right in the gut! They've got him held hostage and they say that they'll kill him if we come any closer."

"Cormick!" Kayla cried. "We have to do something!"

"That's what I hoped you'd say," said Brockenburn. "Come on, we may still be in time to save him."

They hurried the short distance to Aldanon's estate and found a group of armed men huddled in the walled-off garden in front of the house while the Watch looked on, powerless. Kayla could see her friend lying on the ground, bleeding profusely from a belly wound but obviously alive and struggling to get to his feet.

"Not one step closer!" one of the thieves called to the newcomers. "If I see so much as a hand on a weapon, your buddy here gets it!"

"Slow down!" Kayla shouted across the distance. "Nobody needs to get hurt here. Stop struggling, Marshal! We're here to help."

"Just keep back, I say!" the man responded.

"Let me talk to them," Kayla asked Brockenburn. "Maybe there's a simple way to resolve this."

"Well, whatever you're going to do, make it fast," he said. "Don't know how much time the Marshall's got left."

"I'm going to come closer," Kayla said. "I'm not going to attack you. See? I'm handing my weapon to my friend here. Now you've got a weapon and I don't. So we can talk without shouting at each other."

"No weapons, though!"

"No weapons, I promise. My name is Kayla. What's yours?"

"I'm Hewe," the talkative one said, "and this here's Gulver -"

"You idiot!" his friend protested. "What'd you have to give her our names for?"

"She was being polite. 'Sides, she don't care, anyway."

"She's the one that cleaned out the Docks, remember? Good luck getting out of this one, blabbermouth."

"Let's not get carried away!" Kayla hastily interrupted. They would never negotiate if they felt they had nothing left to lose. "We're just having a little chat. No pressure."

"And we've got your friend," Gulver reminded her.

"Yes," Kayla said, "about that. He's in pretty bad shape, and he's no use to you if he dies. How about you let me get a little closer so I can heal him, alright?"

"Uh, yeah," Hewe agreed. "Just keep your hands where I can see them."

They let Kayla reach Cormick's side. It was worse than it looked. He was still alive, but only barely. A quick healing spell helped. He would need more healing still, but she dared not risk anything more dramatic. If Cormick were healthy again, he would want to fight his way out, and that would only get them both killed.

"Is that better?" she asked him softly.

"Just let me at 'em!" Cormick said, his voice weak.

"Shh," she hushed him. "We're just having a little chat here, Cormick. No need to exert yourself."

She turned back to Hewe.

"Now," she said, "I was just going to ask what it would take for you and your men to stand down. We've all had enough excitement for one day, don't you think?"

"We ain't idiots!" Hewe protested, all evidence to the contrary. "We've got demands!"

"Let's hear them, then," she said in as rational a voice as she could muster.

"I won't give the order to stand down until I have your assurance that me and my men walk out of here free men," Hewe said. "No klunking on the back of the head once our backs are turned, no following us home to arrest us tomorrow. We go free or we don't go at all."

"That doesn't sound unreasonable," Kayla said. "Don't you agree, Cormick?"

"You're letting them go?" Cormick sputtered, vainly trying to rise to his elbows.

"If they answer our questions, why not?" Kayla prayed that her one-time superior would see the sense in it. "The real criminals are inside the house, and I'm sure these are all just law-abiding citizens tempted a little too much by the promise of easy coin. Now that they've seen how bloody foolish it was, they won't be making that mistake again any time soon, will you, gentlemen?"

"No, ma'am," Gulver piped in. "Straight and narrow for me from here on out."

"That's what I thought," she smiled. "So what do you say, shall we give these men a second chance?"

"Alright, alright," Cormick agreed reluctantly. "Tell Brockenburn I said so. But first, you answer our questions."

"Anything you say, sir," Hewe agreed amiably.

"You do it, Kayla," Cormick said, sinking back down. She used another light healing spell on him, then turned back to Hewe.

"How many are inside the house?" she asked.

"Twenty, maybe," the newly-minted upstanding citizen replied. "Maybe closer to thirty. Old Scab heard there was rich pickings, so he brought a large group. Me and Gulver had no stomach for house-breaking, so we were just meant to keep watch."

"Old Scab?" she prompted.

"He's the one in charge," Gulver said. "Shadow Thief, maybe? Bigger than Moire's boys. Right nasty piece of work, with his poxy face and stinking traps."

"Traps, you say?"

"Aye, he's a clever one," Gulver went on. His knowledge of the theif's habits suggested more than a short-term acquaintance, but it was too late for Kayla to revoke her promise now. "With as much time as he's had in there, he'll have the place rigged up like a Calishite galley. Go softly, once you're in, or he'll know you're coming for him before you go six paces."

"Anything else I should be aware of?" Kayla asked.

"You'd better not delay too long," Gulver said. "Old Scab's got a nasty, sadistic streak to him. If there's servants alive in that house, he'll have 'em all up for torture, once he's done looting the place."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "I'm going to call one of my friends over to tend the Watch marshal while I explain the situation to the sergeant."

At Hewe's nod, Kayla waved Casavir forward and left him tending Cormick. Sgt. Brockenburn was not eager to let Hewe and his men go free, but he was not about to contradict his superior's orders. With the released robbers dispersed, Kayla and the rest of her companions were free to enter the house. She left Cormick in Sgt. Brockenburn's hands with instructions that he should be taken to the nearest temple without delay.

"Here's your big chance to show off, Neeshka," she said. "They said the place is heavily trapped, so we'll need all of your cunning for this job."

"Ooh, I love this part!" Neeshka said happily and set to work searching the tiles of the entry passage.

While Neeshka was busy with that, Kayla pulled Casavir aside for a quiet word.

"Thank you for not arguing about letting them go," she said. "I know it must have bothered you."

"You gave me no opportunity to protest," said Casavir. "Once Marshal Cormick agreed to the deal, there was little I could say against it."

"I know," she sighed. "I hope it won't come back to bite us later, but I thought it was our best chance to end the stand-off without a fight."

"What is done is done," he said coolly. Kayla winced. "Let us now look to the consequences."

The consequences included several snares and pitfalls, they found. With patience and perseverance, however, Kayla still hoped to avoid the worst of them. In her heart, she was thinking of more than the ones uncovered through Neeshka's talents.