3:38 Do no harm.

A young half-Elven woman climbed the stone steps that led up from the cell she'd just locked closed, then turned to her right to move down the narrow, but well-lit hall.  About half-way between the first level of cells and the lobby-like receiving area, the Ornrion, accompanied by a visibly pregnant Human woman, a weary eyed young Human man, and a sharp faced female mage- whose oddly drawn visage almost confused the half-Elf into mistaking her for an old Elf of some sort- blocked her further forward movement.

Although freshly appointed to jail duty, the female guard was well familiar with both Susanna Raibeart and Ornrion Vannus.  She'd never seen the mage before, although her reputation preceded her- mostly because of her father.   At the sight of the archer, however, a quiver went directly through her belly.  The whispers shared between the more experienced jail guards claimed that his heart was so pure that the god Lathander himself provided divine guidance for each arrow.  When she'd heard the rumors, she'd thought them jokes, but one look at the archer made her believe everything immediately.  For a moment, she could only stare past Vannus, the mage, and Susanna to him.  Noticing her gaze, he seemed to blush slightly, and the blood in his cheeks made him seem a bit less tired than he had a few moments before.

"And?" Vannus asked with faint annoyance, lifting his amber brown eyes up to the darker brown eyes of the muscular female soldier who was actually taller than he.

"No movement," the woman admitted, snapping to proper attention at once.  "He's just as you left him, and I suppose she's climbed into his arms, because I can't see her at all."

"And the plate?" the ornrion pressed, making his tone a bit more serious.

"I..." The soldier wilted slightly, although she still stood at attention.  "I did ask, because the plate was still sitting there, covered... like she never touched it since I left it, and I... I didn't get a response from either of them.  I don't know what else to do.  She's already so thin... she could-"

"Worry about things like that, and this place will break you," the ornrion said frankly, his tone severe enough to be a reprimand instead of a simple piece of advice.  Turning his attentions to the young man and Susanna, he spoke again.   "Master Ranclyffe, is it?"

"By title," Trizelle replied curtly without bothering to actually look at the person speaking to her.  She was far too focused on a single, solid piece of stone in the wall beyond him, it seemed.

"I'd like to walk with you, if I may," the pregnant woman began softly, resting a hand on the wizened woman's arm.  "I'd like to see her again."

Trizelle directed a charged gaze at the woman, but soon nodded.  It seemed everyone was surprised when she briefly laid a tenuous hand on top of Susanna's hand.

"Don't, Suze," Iordyn said just as the two women began to move toward the cell together.  "That Dragonborn is-"

"-completely docile," Urmlaspyr's court mage sighed in a tone whose exasperation no one could mistake.

"With all due respect, Master," Vannus noted, "your talents are not here published abroad."

"Should they be?" Trizelle asked, although it was quite clear that the question had not really been a question at all.

"You should have kept your test subject and his pets in your own country," the ornrion said sweetly, lavishing a smile on the woman who had not once yet looked at him.

Without another word, the mage simply let go of Susanna, stepped around both soldiers, and moved down toward the cell.  Vannus, just as annoyed with her as she was with him, crossed his arms.

"Should I-" the half-Elf began timidly.

"No," the ornrion replied firmly, pursing his lips.

"Lord Vannus, I thought you said that was Battlemage Ranclyffe's daughter," Susanna finally whispered when the older woman was out of sight.  "He sent her in his place, did he not?"

"I can't imagine why," came the solid retort.  "Further, I can't imagine why Garimond-"

"This was her country once, my lord," the former acolyte smiled, thinking she would find some humor in the situation.

"Once," Vannus repeated acridly.  "No longer.  A master wizard in Urmlaspyr she may be, but here, she is nothing but a treasonous witch- she left Cormyr behind of her own free will, you know."

"Yes, the oversword told us that," Iordyn answered absently, having caught the half-Elf guard looking at him strangely again.

"My Lord Vannus, please be considerate," Susanna whispered, coming closer to the ornrion.  "My purpose was to know her spirit; that is by order of the Oversword.  She is a formidable expert on all things touching demonology, but- when I took her hand, looked into her face- Mother Chauntea said nothing."

"I have no care for her spiritual health, Miss Cheluais," replied the ornrion in a calmer tone.  "I am interested, however, to see how she will be let in without a guard."

"She is not the only one who's concerned," Iordyn piped up, a hand venturing to the halved iron arrowhead whose pieces now graced a leather cord hung on his neck.  "That which one studies has a way of sneaking through to the soul, and Lathander is as silent as Chauntea.  Though he be mad, I believe the Dragonborn was wise to tell us to listen to such silences."

"You, of all people, should fear that creature, Ser Raibeart," Vannus sighed.  "Especially with your sister in tow."

"How can I fear one who now gently cradles one who is as young and delicate as I?" Susanna soothed quietly.  "Further, Master Ranclyffe does not fear him one whit.  Mayhap I will hear more of her spirit when it is in concert with the male she so intently studies."

For a moment, all the armed people in the hallway of the prison looked at the one creature that did not belong anywhere near stone walls, metal bars, and rows and rows full of tried and untried criminals.

"You have more faith in your goddess than can be thought wise," Vannus finally said.  "Let your brother go with you, as we planned.  And if the hag does any cross thing, then let her be put out.  This is not her country any longer, and she would do well to remember that."

"Yes, my lord," Susanna replied quietly, as though she herself had been chastised.

After offering a stiff bow, Iordyn took his sister's flushed, swollen hand and guided her gently past the female guard and down the cut stone steps.  When the two arrived at the cell in question, the barred door stood strangely open, as though someone with the keys had already come by.  Iordyn was about to turn to check for passing guards, but was instead convinced to continue into the cell by his sister's sudden movement forward.

At first, the only creature that could be noticed was the Dragonborn.  The bigness of him, even sitting on the stone ground as he was, still made Iordyn's heart beat a bit faster.  His bare back was turned to the door, but the accommodating rounding of his spine was a clue that he still held Silveredge in his lap or arms.  The court mage, sitting on a low, battered wooden stool less than a foot away from his right side, held a good length of platinum silver hair in her lap, and was braiding it.

"There is prayer here," Susanna furtively whispered to Iordyn.  "I cannot tell from who, but holy words are being spoken."

Iordyn immediately took hold of the split arrowhead.  "Let me add to it," he whispered back.

When Trizelle had finished braiding, she pulled a string of some sort from one of the various ingredient pouches at her waist, then tied the hair off.

"No infestations," she said firmly.  "Piercing's clean.  Blood?"

"Blue," the Dragonborn replied in a murmur.

"Is she bleeding anywhere?" the mage clarified, putting her hands into her sleeves.  Iordyn at that moment noticed how cold it was in the cell, and peeked over at his sister, who seemed only slightly less pink in her cheeks.

"No," came the quiet reply.

Susanna slowly moved forward slightly ahead of her brother, toward the left side of the Dragonborn.  He, hearing her without seeing her, ducked his head and turned it slightly, as if to hide the sight of his eyeless socket from her.  Unafraid, but curious, she moved forward close enough to look around his arm to the resting Shadar-kai.  The uncovered plate of food sat in front of him, and seemed to have been poked at.

"Be careful," Iordyn urged, suddenly moving to put himself between the Dragonborn and his sister.

"There is more harm from you to me than from me to you," the scaled male scoffed, turning his head straight forward.  The beam of sunlight that pushed its way through the high, small stone window at the back of the cell pooled in his dry, empty eye socket, making the left side of his face look ghoulish.  The same sunlight made the periwinkle blue skinned young woman in his arms look saintly, however, and the sight impressed both Iordyn and his sister.

"Temper, Lyosha," Master Ranclyffe said sternly, as though she were correcting her own child.

Susanna watched the brief flash of anger be rapidly replaced with a weighty sorrow, but before she could respond, the young woman who had previously had her eyes closed opened them.  The former acolyte felt a wall- an invisible, but still impenetrable wall- being willed into being between them.  Iordyn noted the change in his sister's attitude toward the situation before her at once.

"Right- you'll have to go, Voyonov," he said, completely mistaking the reaction.

Beyond the bulk of the Dragonborn, the mage scoffed, nearly too quietly to be heard.

"Oh, no, Iordi, I-" Susanna sighed deeply, more upset with herself than anything else.  "I don't mean to disturb anyone-"

"The handmaiden is not disturbed," the Shadar-kai breathed, shifting around in Aleksei's arms.

"Oh?" Susanna smiled, feeling herself suddenly very tired.  "Is she used to being fed, instead of eating for herself?"

The Shadar-kai smiled, and although it seemed faded, Susanna found it a welcome change.  There was an effort made to sit up, and the Dragonborn sat up straighter so that there was room enough to do so.

"The handmaiden was physically reminded to feed herself; she was not thinking of it."

Iordyn watched as both his sister and Master Ranclyffe made note of the woman's choice of words.  He felt uncomfortable looking at any of the women in the room at all, even though he was related to one of them.  When Trizelle held her grim-faced silence, Susanna decided to speak up.

"You must be thinking of your figure instead," Susanna joked with a faint smile gracing her own face.  "Any man would do well to praise it."

"Not so, my lady," the Shadar-kai replied, finally managing first to scoot to the edge of the Dragonborn's lap, then to get to the floor and kneel before Susanna and Iordyn.  "It should be your own that is more highly praised.  The blessings of your gods follows you."

"And may yours be with you," Susanna breathed, the beginning of understanding dawning upon her.

"Come here," Master Ranclyffe commanded, standing up.

Susanna was going to protest, but her dutiful brother took her by the arm and began to usher her toward the chair without a second thought.

"What is it you are coming into prison to find?" the Dragonborn asked, paternal concern heavy in his accented words.

"The woman who saved my life, and that of my baby," Susanna replied as she rested herself on the stool that Trizelle had so recently vacated.  It was as cold as if it had stood empty for a half hour.  "May I call you Silveredge?  I'm told that this is your name, although you respond to others."

"Whatsoever my lady will call me, to that will I answer," Silveredge replied without hesitation.  "Truly, your gods have saved you."

"Your humility becomes you, but your words betray you," Susanna said.  "It is neither Lathander nor Chauntea who stretches their hands to me through you- yet, some deity does."

"The handmaiden is confounded," Silveredge said, turning her head very slightly to one side.  "Surely it was the will of your gods that you be saved, yet I would not be able to tell one's direction from the other."

"Do you say, then, that it is not the will of your patron deity that I and my baby be saved alive?" Susanna charged immediately.  "Is he or she not possessed of the desire to protect living things?"

"The handmaiden is not sure," Silveredge answered as she righted her head and shifted from foot to foot.  "Those who were directly protected by my patron did not live."

Susanna rested her folded hands on her belly with a smile.  "Then, does the handmaiden not call her patron a protector, or does she not live?"

Silveredge nodded as though Susanna had asked her a yes or no question, then replied with a strangely wounded smile.

"If I fall, mistress, then I fall."

The silence that followed, full of unspoken certainty, terrified Iordyn.  It infuriated him that Master Ranclyffe, who was supposed to be testing for any sort of mental manipulation, seemed to be doing absolutely nothing.

"Will you take my hand, gentle handmaiden?" Susanna asked after thinking for a few quiet minutes.

"That which you truly ask is beyond me," Silveredge replied.  "I have not seen the first beloved in many days, and though the Nameless Goddess delights in weaving our fates, she does not give the knowledge of them to me."

"Well, there's that," Susanna breathed, sitting back upon the stool more firmly.  "It seems to me, Madam Ranclyffe, that at times, this young woman does call upon the power of her goddess, but at others, the wellspring of power drawn upon is her own.  Will you agree?"

She noted that the woman has done nothing as well, Iordyn thought, satisfied.

"No," the older woman replied frankly.  "Arcane abjuration may mirror its divine counterpart."

"But this Nameless Goddess-"

"Is the Raven Queen," Master Ranclyffe finished briskly.  "There is a tight-knit unit of her followers in the Urmlaspyr catacombs that have made themselves wholly responsible for the burial grounds of the entire city.  It may, by this, be postulated that their goddess is concerned about the protection of the dead."

For a split second, Susanna stared at Urmlaspyr's court mage blankly, wondering why she had not simply volunteered this information before.  Trizelle, almost as if in response, raised an eyebrow at the pregnant woman as if to wonder why a student of divine magic had been wholly ignorant of the existence of a goddess.

"Perhaps I should tell you that the first beloved- that Mi'ishaen- is being sought more for information than for punishment," Iordyn finally piped up, looking helplessly from Master Ranclyffe to his sister-in-law before focusing on Silveredge.  "If I promised you, on my life, that no harm would come to her, would you tell me where she was?"

"My lord should rather value his life more highly," Silveredge replied with another faint smile, as though Iordyn had told a bad joke.  "The handmaiden does not lie when she says it has been many days since last she has seen the first beloved."

"You saved my life, dear woman," Susanna urged.  "I beg you, if you can care for me, care for my people.  Is there anything you can do to help us find her?"

Silveredge spent a few quiet moments without responding at all, staring at Susanna as though she had not understood the question.  Iordyn prepared to urge a response, but his sister, sensing that something was indeed happening within the Shadar-kai, picked up her hand slightly to stop him.  Behind them both, Master Ranclyffe picked her head up a fraction of an inch, then turned her attentions to Aleksei.

"What information is being sought?  Is it anything the handmaiden might give?" she asked Iordyn at last, turning her gaze to him.

Iordyn tilted his head slightly, not having thought of anticipating such a reaction.

"It is thought, dear handmaiden, that the first beloved may have something to do with those who apparently want to harm me," Susanna interjected.  "There was a rune-covered silver knife-"

"The Rooftop Reaver," Master Ranclyffe smiled strangely, "has abandoned Urmlaspyr's graveyards to warn Cormites of death or danger."

"The first beloved would not have a rune-covered knife, since she does no magic."  Silveredge thought for a few moments, then shifted so that she could address Master Ranclyffe more directly.  "Is it thought, then, that Bahlzair was in the market?"

"Maybe people are thinking this," Aleksei huffed. "Also, they are thinking that Mishka is helping Sembia to kidnap for slavers."

And inexplicably, Master Ranclyffe nodded, then crossed her arms.  Susanna expected another comment about the Dragonborn's temper, and was not gratified.

"What?" Silveredge cried, turning her head sharply over her shoulder to glare straight into Aleksei's single-eyed gaze.  "She's never been to Sembia; unless Urmlaspyr itself is still considered part of it.  How could she be kidnapping people for a country to which she has no tie?"

"Ah," Susanna breathed quietly.

"Wait, the Oversword said he told you that Mi'ishaen might have been kidnapped herself," Iordyn argued.  "How have you come-"

"There is no one worrying for whether Mishka is safe or not," Aleksei rumbled angrily.  "Why are you waiting for Rasha to lie, when all the time you are doing this to me, and now to her?"

"What's happened?" Silveredge asked, worried.  "She may be kidnapped?"

"They are looking for her still for the death of the bird that I wish I am leaving stuck in the tree," Aleksei replied sharply.  "Rafa is saying that Sembia is paying lot of attention to us as we are coming, maybe thinking that we are good for selling-"

"Or, perhaps they are interested in reclaiming an entirely natural, extremely talented, Shadar-kai mage who publicly refuses to respect Netheril," Master Ranclyffe noted very quietly, watching both the Shadar-kai and the Dragonborn closely as she spoke.

"-and now that there are people missing from their streets, they are very much thinking that we are responsible for them.  I and Bahlzair are never moving from old mage's house, all the time since we are coming to this country.  You, they are able to find, because you are not hiding since you are coming here."  Aleksei took a moment to look at the older mage with a sigh.  "Because of what Gospozha Ranclyffe is saying... perhaps it is good that you are here, instead of still being where anyone can find you.  But this loud searching for Mishka is telling her to keep hiding, and she is good at it.  So they are saying to me that maybe slavers are taking her, but they are thinking maybe she is helping them to take people from the streets, to make them slaves for their enemies."

Silveredge put both hands over her mouth, overwhelmed.  "No," she managed from between her hands after a few seconds.  "She wouldn't do that- she would never do that."

"You are right," Aleksei nodded, getting up to gather the Shadar-kai in his arms.  "There are many things she might steal, but someone's freedom- never."

"Well, would you have thought her a murderer, or did that surprise you too?" Iordyn sighed, frustrated.

"If something is endangering something she wants or cares for, she won't hesitate to kill," Silveredge admitted matter-of-factly.  "That I have seen, with my own two eyes.  She would not ask for anyone's pardon, and so... and so neither shall I."

"Interesting," Master Ranclyffe noted, raising an eyebrow.

Aleksei scooted closer to Silveredge and convinced her to return to his lap by carefully putting his hands to her waist.  Once even a hint of control touched the Shadar-kai's frame, she obediently shifted backward into his waiting embrace.

"Can you tell me, then, why she has deserted your side?" Susanna asked gently.  "Is violence the only way she might show her affection?"

There was a wounded pause, and the pregnant woman momentarily looked back to the stony face of the older mage, which offered no peace or help whatsoever.

"She does not know how to show affection," Silveredge whispered in a wavering voice.

"Courage, Rasha," Aleksei encouraged, snuggling against Silveredge's shoulder.  "You will arrive at mountain peak together, even if from different sides."

"Oh," Susanna whispered, looking at Aleksei as though she'd never seen him before.

"I believe you've done all you came here to do, Mrs. Raibeart," Master Ranclyffe said with a trace of some sort of sentiment in her voice.  As though she'd been conjured, the pregnant woman moved to get up from the stool.

"Wait, I- please, Ser Voyonov," Iordyn began, moving closer toward the Dragonborn.  "I didn't mean to seem as though I... look, I do care, and... and I'm very sorry... for how I've been toward you, and... about her.  I've been wrong.  I see that I've harmed you, like you said, and... I'm sorry for that."

The Dragonborn heaved a sigh so deep that it seemed to Iordyn as though his entire frame expanded and shrunk with it.

"My heart is calm, Ser Raibeart.  I am also sorry for making you to feel disrespect.  Please also to say your words to Mishka, when you find her; she will not thank you, but she will be, maybe, little less fierce of an enemy for you."

Iordyn nodded, then extended his hand to his sister.

"Thank you," Susanna said comfortingly, reaching out a hand to the still-upset Silveredge.

The Shadar-kai gave an openly sorrowful platinum-eyed gaze to the former acolyte, then sat up straight and encased the puffy, pink Human hand in both of her own.  In instants, the women were hugging each other.  Iordyn placed a hand on his sister-in-law's shoulder after a few quiet moments, and Aleksei reached his arms up to guide Silveredge back down to his lap.

The archer said nothing until they were half-way down the hallway back to Ornrion Vannus, and the light and air of the outside world.

"What did she say?  When the Shadar-kai took your hand?"

Susanna shook her head, tears still standing in her eyes.  "I couldn't hear anything."

Something about the way she said it, along with the tears that Susanna wasn't allowing to fall, forced silence upon the rest of Iordyn's questions.



Meanwhile, Master Ranclyffe perched herself gingerly upon the now warm stool, watching as Silveredge quietly sniffled in Aleksei's arms.

"What do you call this daughter, Lyosha?"

"This is Rasha, the chain daughter," Aleksei replied.  "Also she is very good at hiding, and also dancing.  All these are good, yes?  She is very good."

An unintelligible mumble came from Silveredge's buried face, and Trizelle assumed that it had been a thank-you for the compliments.  After observing for a few moments, Urmlaspyr's court mage walked over, gingerly touched the Shadar-kai's shoulder, then left the cell.

"Do not leave her here alone."

Aleksei sighed at this command, which had nearly echoed down to him as Trizelle left.

"It is my word that is placing you here," he said sadly.  "I am very much sorry for this."

Silveredge moved herself so that she could wrap her arms around as much of Aleksei as she could.  "Courage," she managed, trying to smile although she was still sniffing.  "I have a lot to think about, and this is as close to the catacombs in Urmlaspyr as I think I will get."



Ornrion Vannus leaned in the hallway in front of the receiving room, arms crossed and head lowered.  When Master Ranclyffe came up the hallway, he turned his gaze up from the floor toward her.

"And?" he asked simply.

Trizelle looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  "Yes."

" 'Yes' ?" the ornrion echoed, surprised.

"The slave ring," Urmlaspyr's court mage replied flatly.

Ornrion Vannus turned all the way around to fix Master Ranclyffe with a solid stare.  "Slave rings only communicate the will of the master."

"Incorrect," Master Ranclyffe sighed as she walked past him toward the outdoors.  "Further, no one asked about active manipulation."

"This is obstruction of justice," Vannus noted simply, without turning around to acknowledge the fact that she'd gone past him.

"Prove it," the woman spat acridly.  "Then convince the Council to allow you to detain and try me."

"If you are as winsome and docile over there as you have been since you've been here, I'm sure they'll be hard pressed to lose you," Vannus shot back, standing straight.

"I personally sent for Cormite assistance three separate times, telling the Oversword that Semmites were stealing people out of the streets with the help of armed Semmite sympathizers within the Urmlaspyr guard.  Until recently, Cormyr suffered me one properly trained soldier, and a handful of useless grunts."

"So you are exacting punishment now, Master Trizelle Ranclyffe, by purposefully obscuring the answer that your father would have freely given?"

Trizelle stared resolutely out of one of the stone windows for a few moments.

"The laws of Cormyr require transparency and compliance of all registered mages," the ornrion stated gruffly.

"I am not a Cormite mage," Trizelle said, without a hint of emotion.  "I am not Cormite at all."

Vannus leaned back on the wall, deflated.  "That's... right."

"The subject is, in fact, being compelled by a force that she cannot control."

"Thank you," the ornrion offered half-heartedly, waving a permissive hand at the mage.

"The Council sends the king, his lords, and all officials here warm and pleasant greetings, against my better judgement, and thanks you for the soldiers you have recently dispatched to us, which I know you had no intention of actually sending.  Feel free to carry all this information to your betters."

And the ornrion stared up at the cold, stone ceiling as Master Ranclyffe walked out into the courtyard.

3:37 Blessed be the ties.

Howler's smoky brown eyes looked through the wooden slats to the slowly panting animal within.  Their gazes rested upon each other, and the certainty that had long weighted the animal's bones stole coldly through the observer's heart.

"Please," the little girl repeated in a tiny, pitiable voice.  "Can you please try?"

The dogmaster turned to her, fixed his gaze on her earnest coppery eyes, then released a slow sigh.  Although he knew the only thing that could really be done for the old sire as he breathed his last weary gasps into the chill morning air would be to make him comfortable as he passed away, he decided against denying the young child her request again.  He opened the crate and moved away from the girl, but didn't get all the way past her before she reached out a hopeful hand to him.

She knew nothing of the monster whose hand she wanted to hold, nothing of the creature that could savagely tear the flesh from her bones, nothing of the reason his natural birth name had been suddenly traded for a bitter moniker.

Howler heaved a deep, slow sigh, then made another decision- one at which the creature inside him, these days just barely under his rapidly-eroding control, snarled its discontent.

"Come," he breathed quietly, taking her flower petal soft hand in his own.  "Let's see if the old sire can do something for his pup."

Although Howler himself had no apprentices, Kronmyr's trainees usually stepped in to help the man who single-handedly kept the Sunfire breeding business afloat.  So as a spare short swordsman nudged his sparring partner into carrying the open crate into the Sunfire manse, they left in the yard behind them four young male dogs, a two year old bitch, and one three year old sire, all safely tied by their marked lead straps to various stakes around the sparring circle.  Three of the young male dogs, all of mixed descent, bounced and played with each other aimlessly while their toffee brown, pure bred pointer sire sniffed at the completely disinterested cur bitch.  The last young male dog, honey brown with dark ears and nose, simply laid down as he had when he was inside, looking as though he would soon fall asleep.

This was all well and good, until another one of Kronmyr's trainees brought a new dog into the yard.  She was even smaller than the cur, and was white with brown blotches.  The martial trainee, not knowing- or really caring, actually- what it meant when four of the five males became suddenly interested in sniffing the newcomer, simply tied the thing to the same stake as the disinterested male, who didn't move a muscle.  When he saw that the female sniffed him very briefly, then laid peacefully on his side, he walked away satisfied that a rather off-putting job had been well-done.

As soon as the trainee had gone inside, the smaller dog found herself surrounded by three of the other young males, who all suddenly went the entire length of their straps to get near her.  She flattened her ears against her head and snarled, giving a few of them some snaps, which only seemed to make them all the more eager to get at her.  Only a few moments of this activity passed before the sire, who'd been slowly sniffing the air, rose and lifted a bark of his own.  The three pups, all his, backed away from the smaller dog as the older, more experienced dog startled the white and brown dog into standing up and bouncing away from her previous position.

As soon as she left his side, the previously disinterested dog lifted his head sharply, fixing the sire with a glare that could be nothing other than a bare challenge of his dominance.

The small female dog emitted a nervous whine mere seconds before the sire expertly mounted her.  He was too large for her to contest, and even though she twisted her body, nearly sitting all the way down in the attempt to get out from under him, he quite nearly managed to push himself all the way down to the knot.

The larger dog bounded up, ripping the stake that he had shared with the small female straight up out of the ground as though it had only been buried an inch deep.  With a savage snarl, he lunged at the sire, slamming his chest straight into the side of his target and forcing him to the ground behind the smaller dog.  That dog, for her part, began screaming sharp yelps of protest into the air as the three younger dogs strained at their stakes in the attempt to get at her.  The stake slammed back down to the ground quite near to her backside, and absolutely terrified, she shrieked her way all the way around the Sunfire's courtyard, dragging it behind her.

The pointer, who was in the peak of his ability, still genuinely struggled to wrestle with the mixed breed pup that was bodily larger than he.  Although the fight between the dogs lasted less than five minutes, they had both suffered slashes and bites before a red-faced, wiry young man tore into the yard.

"Ria, come over here!" he called instantly, trying to determine which way to run in order to physically catch her.  "Niku?  Niku, stop it!  I said stop!  Hey, help out here, some help!"

It took Howler some time, with the large, golden yellow dog cradled in his arms, to get outside to answer the calls.  A tell-tale smell hit him as soon as he entered the yard, and it took everything in his power to properly direct his sharp rise in raging energy.

"Sit!" he hollered.  So forceful was he that out of the corner of his eye, he watched the little girl, who'd run out of the building after him, wither at his tone.  It was less effective, however, on the dog that he still called Hammer, who still towered and bristled, even when the sire broke away from the fight to obey the command.  The smaller white and brown dog, for her part, darted between the sire and Hammer, and ran in two very tight circles next to him before he simply reached a heavy paw out and snatched her to himself.  He made no move to mount, but stood over her while breathing out a low, intense growl.

"Valeria, you come here, now," the young man commanded in a more even tone.  The small dog dashed out from between her protector's legs to sit at her master's, and Hammer immediately laid right down as though the fight had never happened.

"That's yours?" Howler managed through a tight jaw and clenched teeth.

"Yes," the young man replied, not tearing his eyes away from the tears in Hammer's tawny coat.

"She start putting out yellow stains in the bed, huh?"

The man turned to him with a confused look.  "Last week, yes," he replied quietly.

The ignorance of the Human male cried out to Howler at once.  Within him, the creature bayed for punishment, and for a moment, the dogmaster really wanted to dole it out in full measure.

But the dying dog in his arms began sniffing the air himself, his trained nose having caught a familiar scent.

"He's moving!" the little girl cried at once.  It was impossible to tell whether the trembling in her voice was excitement or the knowledge that this sign of life was merely a spark in a rapidly cooling hearth.

"Hammer, come," Howler said quietly, sitting down and resting the weighty old dog in his lap as best he could.

"Is that his name?" the young Human male finally asked, looking back at the commander's intended target.  "Silveredge- Rasha to you, apparently- she always called him 'Niku.' "

The little girl, still some distance behind, one-upped both males without hesitation.  "Niku, will you please come over here like Ser Howler asked you to, please?"

The young dog offered a whine that started high and dropped to a lower pitch, but obediently got up and padded over toward the girl.  His progress was interrupted by the dying dog, however, who attempted to get up and block his forward progress.  Seemingly just as aware of his eminent demise as everyone else, Niku turned and promptly butted his head against the head of the other dog.

When he backed up again, the two dogs looked at each other.  Although the standing dog was taller and leaner than his elder, the coloring left no question about their relationship to each other.  The two dark brown muzzles suddenly moved toward each other again as though there were magnets in the noses.

"By Lathander," the young Human breathed,  "They're from the same cloth cut."

After a few more seconds of exploration, Niku got as close to the ground as he could, crawling forward so that he could get underneath the large, deep brown paw of the dying dog.  That dog, for his part, shifted in Howler's lap to position himself as close to the approaching puppy as he could.

"Is Krumiri Niku's daddy?" the little girl asked timidly.

"Must be," the young Human supplied instantly.

"His sire," Howler corrected, the irritation that the creature within him knew should have come along with the note somehow absent.  "Thu- um- Krumiri is... Niku's... sire.  He was the smallest in his litter.  I lost the bitch to get him.  Dunno who it hurt more, me or... Krumiri."

"About how old is Niku, then?" the young Human asked, coming close to Howler and the dogs.  His own dog, curious, followed at his heels.

"He's getting on a year," the dogmaster sighed.  "You'd think he was older, to look at his size.  This guy, he's thirteen now, but he was the only male of his kind that I had left nearby, so I bred him one last time."

"Why would you bread him?" the little girl piped up.  "You wouldn't eat him, would you?"

"No," Howler replied, surprised at the question.  "I mean I let him-"

"No, no, don't explain that to a girl of her age," the young male hurriedly interjected.  "Her parents must do such things, not you or I."

"Well, obviously your parents need to explain it to you, too, since your bit- your girl dog, then- is in heat," Howler finally managed, awkwardly aware of how inconsiderate he'd just been.  "Whole mess out here could've been avoided, you know, if you'd just penned her up 'til she were past it."

And the male just looked at the dogmaster, speechless.

"What?" came the gruff question at once,  "You didn't think she was already past it, did you?"

"It...uh...is the first time it's ever happened to her, since I've had her, so..."

The way he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth up into a guilty-looking frown, was telling.  Howler desperately wanted to put his face in his hands, but didn't want to disturb the dog lying in his arms in order to do so.

"Okay, your dog's about as old as this pup," he finally conceded.  "No wonder she's so skittish about the mount.  You, uh...you want to get her in a crate.  She'll remember this, you know.  If you want puppies... she's gonna have problems.  Unless you really take care with her from here on out."

"What about Niku?" asked the little girl insistently.  "Is he going to remember this, too?"

"Every moment of it," Howler replied.  "Although how he will remember it- I'm not sure.  He, uh...he isn't fond of hanging around girls- how's that, boy?"

"Iordyn," the young male supplied, not in the least offended.  "Iordyn Raibeart of Marsember."

"I'm Amadelle- maybe if you played with them more?" the little girl suggested, finally stepping forward to sit between both dogs.  Both responded to her presence- Niku shifted so that his sire's paw rested upon the little girl's leg instead of the back of his neck, and the sire made the slightest move of his head.  "You have to be nice to everybody, Niku, like your daddy."

And at that moment, Iordyn noticed that something in Howler's eyes changed.

"So Krumiri- he came from this place, ser?" the young male asked.  "I ask in the name of the Crown- I'm made a deputy by the Purple Dragons here, by carriage of penance."

"Howler," the dogmaster sighed wearily.  "And yes, he was my fighter, once.  Called Thunder, for the power of his bark.  Was loyal to a fault.  Never left my side- until he got too weak in the jaws to latch on to what he wanted to bring down."

"And then he came to live with my mommy and daddy, and Mommy called him Krumiri, because he is just the color of her favorite-favorite biscuits in the whole world ever, and then I got born after, and he likes me a lot, and he always follows me everywhere I go to keep me safe!" the little girl explained happily, as though she were telling the end of a fairy story.  Her exuberance, as though it had been a force of nature, pierced through the animal that Howler was to the Human that he had once been.

"Krumiri, huh?  Mommy must be from somewhere else," Iordyn smirked quietly to Howler.  "He was loyal, you said- obedient, too?"

Howler nodded, feeling the dog's breathing grow even more shallow.

"Were there any non-verbal commands?"

And the dogmaster nodded again, although it was a smaller movement than before.  Iordyn knelt down and worked his hand under the girl's free hand, and the child held his tightly without any kind of question.

"We're going to have to say goodbye to Krumiri soon, little buttercup," the young man said in a tone so low and warming that Howler was instantly grateful for it.  "How soon, Ser. Howler?"

"Any minute," Howler murmured. watching Niku turn slightly so the he could nudge and lick his sire's paws.

Amadelle put both arms around Krumiri's neck, and at first, Niku simply moved over to accommodate.  About thirty seconds later, however, he lifted Krumiri's paw and carefully, with his nose, moved it so that it rested on her shoulder.

"I love you forever and ever and ever," the girl said, so buried in the toffee colored neck of the passing dog that both men had to strain to hear her.  Niku shifted uncomfortably, and Iordyn ventured to rub his hand down the large puppy's back.

"She'll be okay, big guy," he soothed.  "She's just sad now, alright?  Huh, boy?  You remember Silveredge being really sad sometime?"

Valeria, still left behind where Iordyn was, offered a single, thin whine of sympathy, if at nothing else than Iordyn's own perceived distress.

"That's it," Howler whispered after a few moments.  "Gone."

Predictably, the little girl shuddered for a few seconds, then outright sobbed.  Although she was well-fleshed, it still seemed that such emotion should crack her frame straight down the spine.

Howler closed his eyes completely, as if doing so would make everything go away.

"It's hard to say goodbye," Iordyn began, scooting close enough to hug Amadelle himself.  "But Krumiri wouldn't want you to be so sad, would he?  You miss him, of course, but wouldn't he want you to be happy that he gets to rest now?  He has worked for so long, for- how many years, Ser Howler?"

The dogmaster blinked for a few seconds before answering, as though a bright light had suddenly been pointed at his eyes.  "Eh...thirteen or fourteen.  Getting on fourteen years.  Close to."

Niku laid all the way down for a few moments, and Valeria hopped to her feet, dancing a bit from side to side.  Howler, out of the corner of his eye, noted how nervous she seemed, and wondered if she were always that high strung.  Just as he was deciding to shift so that the girl would let the dog's neck go, Niku got up, turned slightly, and scooted toward her while still lying on his belly.  Once within reach of her, he began poking his nose into her thigh, hip, and ribs.

"Huh?" the girl said, looking down.  Waist-length brown ringlets tumbled down around her, making a thick curtain that neither man's eyes could pierce.

Niku, noticing that he had Amadelle's attention, began pawing at her knees.

Howler was just about to tell the puppy to leave the child alone, until she turned around and sat on her behind.  Niku inched forward on his belly, continuing to paw at her feet, until he was within easier reach of her.  When he was, he simply sat up and put a paw onto the girl's shoulder.

The girl and Howler both continued to look at Niku, but Iordyn looked at Howler.

Without another word, the girl surged forward and hugged Niku.  The large puppy absorbed the impact of having her rush into his chest like that, then comfortingly laid his head on her shoulder.

"You didn't teach him to do that," Iordyn said to Howler quietly.

Howler shook his head.  "I doubt his last owner would have, either.  Not the one we sold him to, anyway.  That woman- Silveredge, you called her.  Maybe she did this.  She's a witch, but- but maybe not all bad."

"How do you know she's a witch?" Iordyn probed, trying to make sure that his tone was still respectful of the sorrowing child.

"Hammer never cried," Howler replied, turning his full attention to the young man.  "He bayed at the moon, sent up barks when playing or trying to learn to hunt, but he never, never cried.  Not like he did in this yard when they took that woman away.  He drew her blood like he'd gone mad, but then cried like he hated to hurt her.  Now he sits in his crate- won't eat, barely laps at his water.  It's madness- I've handled dogs for years, and never seen anything like it."

"So then this is a lot of response you're seeing out of him," Iordyn reasoned, almost as much to himself as to the intended hearer.  Niku had sat back and begun rubbing his head against the child, licking her freckled face once in a while.  When he discovered that there was a spot near her throat that made her giggle, he made sure to focus on it.

"I'd say he's not a fighter anymore, except he just proved that wrong," Howler offered.  "I've half a mind to let the child have him, but that he's too young and strong to be wasted that way."

"Do you think he's wasted- or, rather, that he might have been wasted- with Silveredge?"

"No, I- I guess I don't," the dogmaster puzzled.  "Myr said the woman turned him around so that he had to fight like he was down in his home to train her at all, so- she's a fighting witch.  I guess that's what he's on to, now, looking for another witch woman to protect."

"So a familiar, then," Iordyn nodded, patting Niku solidly before rising.  "Niku's become a familiar for a fighting witch."

"She done something wrong?"

"Not her, no," Iordyn counseled, hearing a strange strain of concern that didn't seem to fit in the dogmaster's throat.  "She's managed to be the only person who might know where... where my accomplice is."

Howler frowned for a few moments.

"You mean that Tiefling she came here for, when she came at first.  You'd let her go, if you found the Tiefling, right?"

"Immediately," Iordyn said, patting his legs.  Valeria bounded over to him without hesitation.  "Silveredge's only fault is that she is knowingly or unknowingly aiding and abetting a suspected slave trader."

Howler frowned again, and Iordyn finally realized that the scowl was indicative of thought, not displeasure.  Meanwhile, Amadelle and Niku had come to true playing terms.  She'd sat up on her knees to pat and hug him, but since she wasn't strong enough to keep the dog from toppling her over, she soon fell backward against Iordyn, who immediately squatted to keep her from hitting the ground.

"Say, you're a big guy," he reminded Niku gently.  "She's much smaller, hmm?"

And as though he'd been yelled at, the puppy laid down and put his head on his paws, his stump of a tail held still behind him.  Amadelle, who also thought she was in trouble, sat back on her behind, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap.

"Slave trader, huh?" the dogmaster asked gravely.

"That's right," Iordyn nodded.

"She tracks, doesn't she?"

"Valeria?  Oh, very well, yes."

Howler looked down at Amadelle, who had reached out and begun patting the deceased dog as though he would feel it.

"Who did you come with, your mother or your father?" Iordyn asked, peeking around Amadelle's other shoulder.

"Nobody came with me but the servants, and they were all told to just sit at the door," Amadelle replied frankly.  "Daddy said that Krumiri was going to die, and that I should let him, but then he told the servants to take him to Ser Howler, because I cried and cried."

Iordyn sat straight up again, surprised.

"Leave him with me," Howler said quietly.  "I'll take care of him.  Then Niku and I are going to find the reason why the fighter witch is penned up.  When we come back, you can come visit him."

Both Niku and Iordyn looked at Howler as though he'd lost his mind.

"You heard me, Niku," the dogmaster said, with more strength in his voice.  "Do you want your woman freed or not?"

Niku rubbed his nose on his forelegs for a few seconds, then stood up.

Iordyn turned his head with a slight, appreciative nod.  "Looks like a 'yes' to me, Ser Howler."

"I'll visit all the-all the time, to keep you company," Amadelle promised Niku in all seriousness.  "I'd be very sad, if my daddy died."

Howler got up, and Amadelle immediately got to her own feet.  Unsurprisingly, Niku moved to put himself between Howler and the little girl.

Because you know, Howler thought, frowning down at the dog.  Soon, you'll see for yourself.