"He's upstairs," Ansrael told her when she arrived at the house, "you're welcome to go on up. He told me what happened. Or some of it, at least. I gather we owe you a debt of gratitude -- the whole city does."
"It wasn't just me," Lady Tarissa informed the elven squire, "there were many of us involved. Including Larimor."
"Thank you, nonetheless. I saw a lot of what happened, and I can't imagine what it would have been like if you -- all of you -- hadn't put an end to it. I'm going out to help with some of the clean-up at the temple. Larimor has been there all day, but I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."
"Thank you, Ansreal." She was visiting Larimor's home, a well-appointed building, if smaller than the adventurers' own villa, and one that, of course, he shared with his squire, at least until her knighting ceremony, which was due quite soon now. She had not been here often before, and then only for brief visits, and it was a pleasant surprise to discover that they would actually have some time alone for once.
"First door on the right at the top of the stair," said the elf, as she stepped outside, "I'll see you later, and you can tell me your side of it. 'Bye!"
Once the front door had shut, Tarissa turned to the stairway and headed up. On the few occasions she had been here before, she had only seen the ground floor, which had a tastefully appointed living room and a secure armoury, as well as a yard outside for martial practice, A paladin, after all, always had to be prepared for action.
"Larimor!" she called out, as she approached the door that Ansreal had indicated, "it's me. Can I come in?"
"The door opened, and the tall knight stood there, beaming, "Tarissa! Come in, by all means. It's great to see you... after what happened yesterday."
She stepped inside, and realised that she was in her fellow paladin's bedroom. It was as pleasant as the rooms downstairs, with a large four poster bed and a plush carpet on the floor. Fortunately, despite the hour, Larimor did not appear to have been getting ready for bed -- that would have been embarrassing, for both of them.
"How are you?" she asked, reflecting that the last time she had seen him, he had still been suffering from the wounds inflicted by the subterranean monster.
"Much better, thank you. Working with so many priests skilled in healing is definitely an advantage of being a paladin." He flexed an arm, demonstrating his suppleness, the strong muscles moving beneath the fabric of his tunic. "But what about you? You obviously knew a lot about what was happening. What can you tell me about it?"
"We knew something like this would happen, yes," she agreed, "although not the details. I had no idea there would be undead walking the streets, for one thing. Nor did we know when it was going to happen. It could have been years away for all we knew, at least until very recently. We obviously grossly underestimated the urgency. Which is partly my fault."
"You couldn't have known," he said, reassuringly, "you just said so yourself. Besides, as I said yesterday, it is a bit of a coincidence, you discovering this in some ancient record so shortly before something that must only happen...well, less than once a century, from what I can gather."
"Yes..." she said, thoughtfully, "I remember you saying that. It is somewhat fortunate, now that you mention it. But it happened, and it as well that it did. Who knows, maybe Pardror had a hand in guiding us to the truth."
Larimor smiled. "Perhaps he did. The legends say that such things have happened before. What about your colleagues, though? I know that you normally fight alongside them, and they must have been trapped up on the surface."
"In that at least," she told him, "we were well prepared." She explained what Calleslyn and the others had done, and how they had foiled the conspirators' plan to raise the Presence.
"So there were thirteen of them at the Rotunda?" he asked. "A full coven?"
"So it seems. My friends managed to defeat most of them, and the remainder apparently turned on each other... presumably when their plan failed. Fortunately, we will not even have questions to answer, because everyone assumes that it was all to do with the undead."
"But some of them were killed with a fireball. Won't that...?"
"The Wizards' College is saying that Valmor was valiantly fighting off the hordes, and that he accidentally caught some innocent people in the blast. For, which of course, he could not be held to account in any event, because he eventually succumbed to the monsters himself. As did a guardsman -- Tenik, I think his name was -- who also died there, fighting the creatures. Or so the authorities believe."
"There is little point in disabusing them of that notion now, I suppose," agreed Larimor, "and all the thirteen are dead?"
"There were eleven bodies at the Rotunda," Tarissa informed him, "so two evidently escaped. They were the ones who turned on the others, I imagine. But we need not worry about them, because Calleslyn told me this morning of something a friend of hers at the Wizards' College told her about last night. Apparently this woman met two people, talking about a possessing demon -- evidently the Presence -- and having escaped from a disaster. She thought they referred to the undead, of course, but from what Calleslyn could piece together, they must be our two remaining conspirators."
"Do we know who they are?"
"No, but we do know that one is dead, and the other has fled the city, apparently after throwing off the Presence's control of her mind. We have no way of following her, or of taking any action against her... but she has gone, and has no way of repeating her act, even if she wanted to. So, while I always regret leaving an evil unanswered, in this case, it is not so bad as it could be. Not that we have an option, anyway."
"So, it's all over then?"
"It certainly seems so."
Larimor let out a sigh of relief, as if he had been waiting for the confirmation, and sat down on the bed. "Thank the gods," he said, "an undead army rampaging across the heart of the city... it's a lot to take in."
She sat next to him, intending it merely as a gesture of camaraderie. "You did your part," she told him, "we have all helped to save the city."
"I feel as if I did not do so much," he said, "it was you and Almandar who went on to the shrine. All I did was distract that... what was that thing, anyway?"
"I have heard of them," she said, "but only far to the south, on the fringes of my own homeland. They inhabit the cold lands, not places like this. It must have come through some kind of portal, a weakness in the fabric of the world caused by the Presence or the ceremony that first summoned it. But, please, do not sell yourself short. I was glad to have you by my side."
"And I you," he said, "fighting alongside you was..." he seemed to struggle for the words, "a good feeling. And you saved my life. You may not believe it, but you are a greater paladin than I. Truly."
"You are as worthy a follower of Pardror as I have ever met," she said, unconsciously reaching out to take his hand in hers.
Feeling his warm skin against her own, she realised that the gesture could seem rather intimate, and hoped he did not take it the wrong way. Or was it the wrong way? She had always felt strongly about him, admiring both his dedication and his undeniably handsome looks. Yet her desires had always been pushed back, in the name of honour and purity, her devotion to the cause outweighing any personal feelings. But did it have to be that way?
They were silent for a while, and she noted he did not move his hand from hers.
"I..."
"Tarissa..."
"Sorry, you..."
"No, you first."
"I was afraid," she admitted, "when you were attacked. For a moment I thought I had lost you. I know we had never truly fought alongside each other before, but you mean a lot to me nonetheless. The thought of losing you cut deep."
"When you went off with Almandar, into the unknown, I felt the same," he said, "I was more worried about you than myself. I could not bear being without you, Tarissa."
The next moment, she was in his arms, hugging him tight, face nestled in the crook of his shoulder. It felt so good, so natural, his strongly muscled form held in her embrace, the warmth of his tunic against her cheek. He whispered her name again, breathing in the scent of her hair.
"I have admired you for so long," he said, "a great warrior, a noble heart, full of goodness and resolve. You are everything a paladin should be, and more."
"As are you, Larimor," she told him, feeling the credit undeserved. She was an adventurer, not a knight in direct service of her god. She could do good that way, she knew, and many evils had fallen before her sword arm, but surely his devotion was greater than her own? Why could he not see that, as she could?
She pulled back slightly from his embrace, lifting her head to look into his dark eyes, seeing a gentle and caring look there that she had so long hoped to see directed towards her. Had she just never noticed it before, so determined had she been to stay professional and so fearful of being thought to fall short of her order's precepts? Or had their recent exploits brought them together as never before?
Their lips met, a brief brush, yet one that made her heart soar in her chest.
"Should we be doing this?" she asked, fearful of a negative answer, yet feeling the need to put the question anyway.
