Session 4

The private office of the Captain of the Neverwinter City Watch was big, with a ceiling festooned with carved mouldings riddled with shadows. Although it was still early afternoon, the thick ivy outside the tall window, and the grime on the windowpanes, sunk the place into a perpetual twilight.

Papers covered the ostentatious wooden desk that sat a few feet away from a large fireplace, its hearth cold now given the unseasonably warm weather of the past few days. Wedges of documents tied with black tape covered the expansive surface of the desk beside piles of leather-bound ledgers, and stacks of parchments stamped with seals of red wax.

A kingdom’s worth of legalese, Brabara thought as she waited for Kevori to finish scrawling on one of the many papers.

“You see what my life has become?” the captain said, placing the latest document on top of a pile to her right, and sliding the next one from a slightly taller pile to her left.

“Not my idea of a good time,” Brabara said.

Kevori snorted. “Nor mine, if I’m honest. The burden of command, I’m afraid. Pray the spectre of promotion never taps you on the shoulder, Sergeant.”

“I won’t let it, Ma’am,” Brabara said. “Though, you did kinda bring this upon yourself.”

Kevori chuckled. “I did, didn’t I.”

Brabara smiled as well. She and Kevori had become good friends since the death of Kevori’s brother, and even though Brabara was technically no longer under Kevori’s command she still thought of her as the boss. “You asked to see me?”

Kevori sighed. “I have a bit of an unusual request for you. Some calamity has befallen Revel’s End, the prison in the icy north. And until they can repair the place some of the inmates we’ve sent up there will be relocated to Helm’s Hold.”

Brabara frowned. “And you want us to escort them?”

Kevori shook her head. “Goodness, no. That is well in hand. It’s just that the Forest Wardens who have been escorting the prisoners will be here in a couple of days. I’d like you and your squad to stand watch over the prisoners for a night to give the Wardens a break.”

“Where will they be held?” Brabara asked.

“We’ve repurposed a set of stables a mile or so out of town,” Kevori said. “I’ve had builders out there this past week to reinforce the place so it’s able to keep everyone contained. I just need you to keep guard for one night so the Wardens can spend a bit of time with their families before resuming the trip to Helm’s Hold.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Brabara shrugged. “Why do you need us?”

“Revel’s End is where we send the most notorious of our prisoners. There are some hard nuts in the group being led down here, and being so close to town, one of them may have friends with a mind to free them. With the ‘Heroes of Neverwinter’ on the case I’m sure you’ll be able to handle whatever mischief these opportunists might throw at you.”

Brabara blushed. “You know I hate that title.”

“Yep,” Kevori said with a broad smile. “So, will you do it?”

“Sure, why not. Be nice to have something straight forward to deal with.”

Kevori opened a desk drawer and removed a sheet of paper emblazoned with the crest of the city and the seal of the watch. She scribbled out a few sentences, signed the bottom with practiced ease, then held it up for Brabara to take.

“The one leading the Forest Wardens is called Garret,” Kevori said. “Good man, been with them for years. He is expecting to be relieved, so show him those orders and take the prisoners into your custody. Any questions?”

Brabara shook her head. “No, Ma’am.”

“Then if you don’t mind, I have a lot of paperwork to get through,” Kevori said. “And good luck.”

---

The group arrived at the repurposed stables just before sunset.

A dozen horses were tethered to a fence surrounding the old farm building. Armed men stood either side of the wide wooden doors, along with several others at various points around the place. More than one had a bow at the ready and they all turned to watch the group as they approached.

A man in travel worn clothing rode out to meet them as soon as they turned off the north road toward the stables.

Ebyn thought he recognised the rider and waved as they drew closer. “Garret, Is that you?”

The man’s eyes widened. “Ebyn,” he said warmly. “Good to see you, my boy. I’ve kept up with some of your exploits. Quite a change from that scared kid I saved on the road all those months ago.”

Ebyn chuckled. “I think saved may be a stretch.”

“Potato, potarto,” Garret said. “I’m just glad I was around to lend a hand.”

Brabara walked forward and handed Kevori’s orders to the mounted man. “We’re here to relieve you and your men.”

Garett read the few lines of text and let out a low whistle. “I never imagined they’d send you lot to relieve us. Figured the ‘Heroes of Neverwinter’ would have better things to do with their time.”

Ebyn snorted. “You and me both.”

Brabara shot Ebyn a firm glance before turning back to the Warden. “Is everything in order?”

Garret laughed. “Yes, of course. Follow me and I’ll give you the lay of the land.”

“Have you had any trouble on the road?” Seknafret asked as they walked to the stables.

“Nothing of any note,” Garret said. “Got some bad weather just south of Luskan but other than that it’s been a smooth run. But we’ve been a long time in the saddle, so we’re all looking forward to this chance to relax, even if it is for just one night.”

Garret took the group on a quick tour of the set up. The three armoured wagons the caravan had been travelling in were parked undercover at the rear of the stables. All the chains and shackles were piled in a heap at the back of each wagon. Garret explained that should they need to restrain anyone, the keys could be found under the driver’s seat.

In all, there were twenty prisoners divided into six former stables that had been converted into cells. Four of the cells held four prisoners each, one held three, and the last one in the row had just one prisoner. A big man that looked to have a little ogre blood in him.

“Why is that one kept separate?” Xalen asked, as they all passed the cells.

“That’s Skari, he’d just kill anyone put in with him,” Garret replied. “He gets a wagon to himself as well.”

Xalen studied the lone prisoner for a moment. The way he sat hunched in the corner of his cell, head down, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze didn’t project any kind of homicidal rage to him.

“Why travel with a brute like that?” Seknafret asked.

“We got given a list, and he’s on the list,” Garret said, and beckoned them all closer. “Truth is he ain’t much worse than anyone else here, but he’s useful as a threat to help keep the rest of them in line.”

“Oh, I see,” Seknafret said. “Very clever.”

“You mentioned a list,” Brabara said.

Garret pointed at one of the wagons. “It’s under the driver’s seat there. We do a roll call before each meal, as well as one in the morning, and again before lights out.”

“When is that?” Seknafret asked.

“We usually call it around three hours after sunset,” Garret said.

Xalen looked around at the supplies and bits of gear. “Are we expected to feed them? I didn’t bring anywhere near enough food.”

“Hef’s got a goulash warming over the fire outside,” Garret replied. “It’s nothing gourmet but it keeps the belly full. We’d normally start serving in about an hour.”

Brabara’s stomach grumbled. “Sounds fine to me,” she said.

Garret eyed them all, suddenly serious. “Do not forget to feed them. A full belly and a warm bed will do more to keep them in line than a dozen armed guards.”

Xalen nodded. “Good to know.”

“Now, do you need anything else from me?” Garret asked.

Brabara shook her head. “No, I think we all good.”

Garret smiled broadly. “Fantastic, the prisoners are yours. My men and I will be back to relieve you no later than two hours past sunrise.”

Brabara walked to the wagon Garret had indicated, tilted the driver’s seat open and removed a leather satchel from the storage space there. She rifled through the papers in the leather satchel looking for the list of names.

“We may as well do a roll call now,” she said, running a finger down the travel-stained manifest.

Brabara gasped. “No! It can’t be.”

Xalen frowned, coming up beside Brabara to look at the name her finger had stopped at.

‘Tiny Coldbush’.

---

Xalen stood over the bubbling pot of goulash, scooping a generous serve of the meaty broth into one of twenty wooden bowls while Seknafret added a chunk of crusty bread to each.

Ebyn had positioned Hoot amid the rafters of the converted stables, giving it a commanding view of all six cells. He was currently observing the scene from that vantage, having transferred his vision across to his familiar.

He’d made no secret of his disinterest in this duty. Keeping watch over the prisoners from overhead was about the extent of the effort Ebyn was prepared to make, after using his magic to bolster the locks on each of the cells.

“Let me take it to him,” Brabara said, her first words since finding Tiny’s name on the prisoner manifest.

Xalen shrugged. “Are you sure?” Brabara hadn’t told him much about the arrest of her husband, but he knew it wounded her. “One of us can do it.”

Brabara sucked her bottom lip. “No. I want to do it. I need to.”

Xalen took up one of the wooden bowls and passed it to Brabara. “You want someone to come with you?”

Brabara took the bowl, stuck a finger in, wiggled it around and brought it up to her mouth, sucking loudly. “No. I can handle it,” she said, and turned away.

“Wait!” Xalen said before she could walk off. “Take a tray, you need to bring four more bowls.”

Brabara rolled her eyes and turned back. Once Seknafret had placed the bowls on the tray, Brabara added the one she held and lifted the tray by the edges.

She trudged back to the stables, took in a deep, troubled breath, and approached the door to the cell Tiny shared with the four other prisoners. “Grub’s up,” she called, adding an edge to her voice. “Everyone, get your backs against the wall.”

She opened the solid looking padlock and pushed the door open, eyeing each inmate for several seconds, except Tiny who had his eyes fixed firmly on the ground at his feet.

Brabara entered the cell and gave each other prisoner a bowl, leaving her with just Tiny’s bowl clenched in her hand. She had to force herself to relax, or she’d risk crushing the flimsy looking thing. “You! Coldbush,” she snapped.

He looked up.

“You’re coming with me,” she said while holding the bowl out, hoping it came out sounding commanding, despite the crack in her voice.

Tiny took the food and shuffled out the door with Brabara just a pace behind. He waited while she closed the padlock and led him to the furthest of the three wagons.

“We need to talk,” she said.

---

Xalen and Seknafret worked together to feed the other inmates.

Seknafret opened the door after all the prisoners had their backs pressed against the wall, and Xalen would enter, handing a bowl to each of them, while Seknafret kept watch for any sign of trouble.

They’d completed two of the five remaining cells and were now serving the cell with only four inmates.

Seknafret opened the door, letting Xalen in. She gasped when she spotted the face of one of the men there. A sharp face with an unmistakable purple birthmark on one side.

She couldn’t keep the shock from her face at seeing him.

The man’s eyes narrowed as she continued to stare. “You know me, don’t you?”

Seknafret didn’t respond. She just stood there looking at the man’s face. The memory of him trying to drag her back in through the window foremost in her thoughts.

“You look familiar, too,” purple birthmark said. “Were you the one who arrested me? Nah, reckon I’d look at being arrested different if it was you who done it.” He winked. “Wouldn’t mind that memory comin’ back, time to time.”

Seknafret said nothing and took a small straight piece of iron from her component pouch. She traced a symbol on it and whispered some arcane words, while her eyes locked on the man in the makeshift cell.

Purple birthmark started to smile, an expression that soon turned to fear as he felt his body stiffen. “What are you doing?” he squeaked, before his muscles froze entirely.

Seknafret turned to Xalen. “Please drag that piece of shit outside.”

Xalen swallowed and looked at the other three prisoners. None of them appeared to want anything to do with whatever was happening, and Xalen could hardly blame them. He tossed the now empty tray out of the cell and hooked his arms under purple birthmark’s armpits, dragging the paralysed man out the door.

Seknafret directed Xalen to lower the prisoner to the ground by the fire where she clicked a set of manacles around his stiffened arms. Once he was restrained, she rolled the man over and patted him on the cheek a few times to be sure she had his full attention.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” she said, voice menacing. “You’re going to answer my questions, and if I’m not satisfied with the answers, or you try to bullshit me, I’m going to do this to you again. But instead of lying here all warm by the fire, I’m going to let the big boy at the end of the row here have a play with you.” She looked down at the stain darkening the man’s trousers and smiled cruelly. “I’ll take that trickle of piss as a sign that you understand me. Now, blink twice if you want control of your body back.”

The man blinked twice. Then twice more and kept blinking.

Seknafret chuckled. “I’m glad we understand one another.”

She waved a hand and the man’s body unfroze so quickly he startled, as if fearing he might fall before remembering he lay on the ground.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Just been a while since…”

Seknafret raised a hand, and he stopped talking.

Xalen watched the drama unfold, more than a little shocked. “What’s this about?” he asked.

Seknafret smiled, a type of smile Xalen had never seen before. “My friend and I are going to get reacquainted. I left in such a hurry last time I saw him I didn’t get a chance to say a proper goodbye.”

Xalen looked between Seknafret and the clearly terrified man whimpering on the ground at her feet. “You want me to stay close?”

“No,” she said and turned her attention down on the hapless inmate. “You finish feeding the others, and he and I are going to have a nice little chat.”

“You’re sure about this?” Xalen pressed.

“You’re not going to give me any trouble are you, friend?” Seknafret said, her words dripping with malice.

“No, no,” the man managed. “No trouble from me.”

Seknafret looked back at Xalen, and this time her smile was of typical sweet innocence.

Xalen stood blinking for a moment, then picked up the final tray of wooden bowls, turned and walked back into the stables. “Fucking guard duty,” he muttered.

Seknafret crouched beside the prisoner. “Right then, you can start by telling me your name?”

“I, uh, um, I’m Joneel,” he managed.

“You don’t sound very sure,” she replied. She knew Joneel was one of the names on the manifest, but he could easily have given her someone else’s.

“No, no, no,” he said. “My name is Joneel, I just, ah, didn’t want to upset you again.”

Seknafret nodded. “Okay, good. How did you end up in prison, Joneel?”

“Did an unsanctioned job in Neverwinter. The guild gave us up to the watch and here I am,” Joneel replied.

“Did you do many of those? Unsanctioned jobs I mean.”

Joneel shrugged. “Now and then, yeah. The take is usually better, guess I pushed that last one too far, though. Guild usually don’t like it when city folk get hurt.”

“I see,” Seknafret said keeping her focus on the man even though she wasn’t particularly interested in the answers to these questions. You got to get a rapport going, that’s what they told her in training. Ask some easy questions to start things off, get the person talking then circle around to what you really want to know. “And what did that last job earn you?”

Joneel sighed. “About five years,” he said. “Going to be a while before I get to choose what I eat again.”

“Let’s not focus on the bad, Joneel,” Seknafret pushed. “What about before that, probably did a few jobs that worked out ok, am I right?”

“Sure,” he said. “One or two.”

“Any of those for a guy called Bralen Root?”

Joneel blinked. “You’re joking, right?”

Seknafret shrugged. “Just answer the question.”

“He’s the reason I’m in here,” Joneel explained. “About a year ago he hired me for a snatch and grab.” Joneel’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, that’s where I seen you before. You’re the one we was hired to take.”

Now it was Seknafret who blinked. “To take?”

“Yeah,” Joneel said. “Weren’t meant to get bloody. Job was to get in, grab you and get out.”

Seknafret’s mouth became suddenly very dry. “And take me where?”

“Dunno. Gravert had the address, and before you ask, he got killed that night.” Joneel spat. “Ever since that job went south, I couldn’t buy my way onto a decent crew. I was left scraping the barrel and it got me nicked. Bralen Root fucked me, make no mistake.”

“In what way?”

“Weren’t no mention o’ guards,” Joneel explained. “You was supposed to be some visiting rich bitch with maybe a couple of maids on hand. Ain’t nobody said nothin’ ‘bout fucking bodyguards.”

“Do you know who hired you?” Seknafret asked.

“Bralen Root. I told you that.”

Seknafret sighed. “No, I mean, who hired him to hire you?”

Joneel shrugged. “We don’t ask, and he don’t tell.”

“So, where can I find Bralen?”

Joneel stayed silent for a long moment. “You gonna do to him what you done to me? Make him go all stiff and threaten to bust him up?”

“And what if I said yes?”

Joneel grinned. “Then I’ll tell you everything I know.”

---

Brabara wouldn’t make eye contact. Couldn’t. She knew it would break her to look at him, so she fixed her eyes on anything but Tiny.

After a long and uncomfortable silence, Tiny broke the impasse.

“You didn’t come to the tribunal,” Tiny said, it wasn’t an accusation just a statement of fact. “I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

“I thought about being there,” Brabara said, trying to keep her tone even. “But when I found out you were pleading guilty, I couldn’t go … why would I?”

Tiny nodded, a look of sad resignation on his over large face. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but I did what I did for you. For us.”

“For us?!” Brabara roared, bits of spit flying from her mouth. “When did I ever give you the idea that it was ok to be corrupt? You of all people should know me better than that.”

“Of course, I, um,” he stammered, cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s more complicated than that.”

Brabara looked him up and down, and her lips curled. “So let me simplify things for you,” she spoke each word slowly, enunciating clearly so he would finally understand. “You. Broke. My. Heart.”

Tiny just stood there, breathing hard, staring down at her. She finally lifted her eyes to meet his, and stared back, defiant. Their gazes locked for what seemed like an age, before Tiny flinched and looked away.

The silence yawned between them. As though a physical barrier had sprung from the ground and started pushing them apart.

Brabara’s heart thudded inside her chest, so loud that she wondered if Tiny could hear it. She had no idea what to do next, so she turned to make her escape, but Tiny’s hand was on her arm and gripped her tight.

“Wait?” he said. “If you leave now, we may never see each other again.”

Brabara could hear the pain in his voice, hell, she felt that pain herself. “And why would I ever want to see you again?” She spat, hoping like hell that he had an answer that would make her stay.

“How are your parents?” Tiny said finally, eyes still fixed on the ground at Brabara’s feet.

“My parents?” Brabara said, with a wry chuckle. “Really?”

Tiny’s hand fell from her arm, and he scratched at the back of his head. “They’re part of this too. Part of our life before all this … mess.”

Brabara shrugged. “Mum’s dead, murdered, and Dad left.”

Tiny stiffened. “Wait. What?”

“Killed in the shop. We arrested the one who did it,” Brabara replied. “Not me, I would have killed the fucker, but the watch got him.”

Whatever resolve remained in the goliath drained away. “She’s dead? I can’t believe it. I’m in here for nothing.”

Brabara’s breath caught. “What are you saying?”

Tiny looked up, tears streaking down his face. “There was no bribe, Brabs, there never was,” his voice broke as the words poured out of him. “Captain Orville told me if I took a guilty plea, he could get me out of the city, and he’d make sure nothing happened to your mother.”

A tight not formed in the pit of her stomach. “My mother? Tiny, slow down, you’re not making any sense. Go back to the beginning and tell me everything.”

Tiny took several deep breaths, his large body still wracked by the occasional sob. “I was meeting with Sammy, you remember him, right? Squirrely guy used to hang by the docks.”

Brabara nodded. “Your snitch? The one you used to joke would end up face down in the river.”

“That’s the one,” Tiny continued. “Anyway, he told me that a contract had been put out on some lady barber on Canal Street.”

Brabara frowned. “A contract? Why?”

“I asked Sammy the same thing. He said that the lady barber, your mother, had overheard something she wasn’t supposed to, and that a nobleman named Jerot Galgin had taken out the hit. I pressed him but he didn’t know anything else.”

“And you never told me any of this?”

“I didn’t have a chance,” Tiny went on. “I went straight back to the watchhouse to tell Delvin what Sammy told me. Captain Orville happened to be there for some reason, and after I finished my report, he looked as though I’d just uncovered a plot against Lord Neverember. ‘We take threats against our own very seriously’, he said and asked if I’d shared this story with anyone else. I told him I hadn’t, and he sort of relaxed a bit after that.” Tiny let out another anguished sob. “Damn it, that should have been my first clue something wasn’t right.”

“Delvin knew about this?” Brabara said softly. “He never said anything to me about it.”

“The captain ordered him to say nothing, said he’d take care of it personally and he didn’t want to ‘feed the grapevine’, or something like that. The Galgin’s are a respected family, and he didn’t want unsubstantiated gossip to tarnish their good name. Talk to Delvin, he’ll back me up.”

“Delvin’s dead,” Brabara said. “About a year or so back.”

Tiny’s shoulders slumped. “And Captain Orville?”

“Retired. Nobody has seen him in months.”

“Well, fuck!” Tiny said. “I guess I’m stuck behind bars.”

“Get back to the bribe, Tiny,” Brabara pressed. “I still don’t see how we get from a contract against my mother to you being put away for bribery.”

“The captain took me to his office in the Halls of Justice, fancy room full of nice wooden shelves with lots of books and a nice big wooden desk. He wrote a bunch of stuff down on a ledger of some kind and then left me there, telling me to sit tight until he got back.”

Brabara raised an eyebrow. “And you just did as you were told?”

Tiny shrugged. “He was the captain. It was an order.”

“Fair enough. What happened next?”

“He was gone for a few hours. When he came back, he said he’d gotten your mum and dad somewhere out of the city. He also told me that Sammy’s body had been found, and it looked like he might have been tortured. The captain thought I might be in danger, and he had an idea of how to get me out too. He reckoned that the killers would be watching the gates, and as big as I am, I’d be easy to spot, but they’d never think to look for me as part of a prison transport. So, he’d arranged to get me sentenced and shipped off with the day’s convicts until it was safe for me to come back.”

“Oh, Tiny. No,” Brabara said, reaching out to put her hand on his.

“I know,” Tiny laughed wryly. “It sounds stupid explaining it to you now, but at the time it seemed like a genius idea.”

“All that sentencing did was discredit you and the story you told Delvin that night,” Brabara mused. “But maybe he wasn’t entirely convinced because soon after that Delvin started poking around the captain’s business.”

“Is that what killed him?” Tiny asked.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Brabara shook her head. “But that’s not important. We need to get you out of here.” She fished around her belt for the keys Garret had given her when they took over.

“No, Brabs,” Tiny said. “Not like that. I can’t be a fugitive. It’s gotta get done right.”

Brabara’s brow furrowed, and she stared into Tiny’s eyes “But, you didn’t do it. We can clear your name.”

Tiny sighed and shook his head. “Don’t you see. If I come marching back into Neverwinter out of the blue, whoever is behind this will eventually find out, and when they do, I’ll be dead quicker than a sparrow’s fart.”

Sparrow’s fart was one of many such Tiny-ism’s. Brabara hadn’t heard one in so long she’d almost forgotten how much they warmed her heart.

Her husband looked down, tears in his eyes. “Or even worse,” he continued. “They find out you are onto them, and they go after you and Kevori. No. Get the evidence, arrest the fuckers that did this to us, and then call for my release.”

Now it was Brabara’s turn to cry. “Oh, baby,” she managed finally. “I love you so much right now.”

---

Garret and his men arrived back at the stables a little before the agreed time. Some of them looked like they’d barely slept, while others appeared fresher than when they’d parted ways yesterday.

“Any trouble?” Garret asked as his men started to get the wagons ready for the journey ahead.

Brabara shook her head. “Nothing to report. All-in-all it was a quiet night.”

Garret nodded. “Glad to hear it. And speaking for my men, thanks for givin’ us the chance for a break. I know the lads appreciated it.”

Xalen laughed. “Looks like some of them might be nursing a few sore heads this morning.”

Garret ran a hand through his thinning hair. “As long as they turn up ready to face the day, I don’t much care what they got up to the night before.”

The group watched as the prisoners were counted, chained, and led into the wagons. Ten in the first wagon, nine in the second, and Skari alone in the last. Once the equipment was stowed, the drivers climbed atop their seats and started leading the wagons out and back onto the road heading south.

Brabara looked on as Tiny’s face pressed against the bars of the wagon. He watched her as they rolled past, a light shining in his eyes probably for the first time in years.

Brabara felt it too, like she’d woken from a dream, a nightmare. And while the world hadn’t changed while she’d been asleep, at least now she felt a long absent flicker of hope.