“Figured that would happen sooner or later,” Zed Arthen commented dryly. The inquisitive had been sitting on a barrel nearby, slowly working his way through a chunk of beef jerky he had scavenged from the hold.
“What happened?” Seren asked. “Why did Dalan set her free? Why is she helping us now?”
“Vow of honesty,” Zed said, taking another bite. “Makes the Spears do stupid things. That’s my best guess.”
“Why would her vow of honesty have anything to do with it?”
“You ask a lot of annoying questions,” Zed said.
“You’re an inquisitive,” Seren countered. “Don’t you ever ask questions?”
“Sometimes,” Zed said, “but they’re not always the best ways to get answers. If you want to know why Eraina is here you should probably talk to her yourself. Or just stop bothering me. I really don’t care.”
Seren grunted noncommittally and headed below deck. Though Eraina’s release piqued her curiosity, her real motivation was to get away from Zed. The inquisitive made her uneasy since he had attacked Eraina. She hadn’t really put much stock in Tristam’s low opinion of the man until that moment. Now she wasn’t sure what he would do next. She noticed Eraina was now in the cargo hold, moving the scattered crates into neatly organized stacks. Her polished armor and weapons were set carefully aside in the corner. She wore leather breeches and a sleeveless white blouse that revealed her dragonmark, an exotic pattern of swirling blue and green lines that stretched from her left hand halfway up her bicep. Eraina had obviously been at work for some time, for her hair and clothes were damp from labor. Overall, she looked more like a Wroat dockworker than a Spear of Boldrei.
“Can you give me a hand, Seren?” she asked, pushing a dark lock of hair from her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Seren asked, moving to take up the other side of a heavy box of dried carrots.
“Cleaning up the hold,” she said. “I can’t understand the halfling’s method of organization.”
“I don’t think he has a method,” Seren said, helping her haul the box up on top of another. “I think he likes it random, so that what he finds to make for dinner surprises him as much as the rest of us.”
Eraina chuckled as she moved to pick up another box. “That may be fine for him, but not for me,” she said. “I like to know where everything is and why it’s there.”
“Then you’re in strange company,” Seren said under her breath.
Eraina looked at her seriously. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“Dalan imprisoned you here,” Seren said. “Now you’re helping him?”
“Dalan apologized for his behavior and drew a promise from me,” Eraina said. “I swore to aid him in his quest in return for his promise that he would help me bring Marth to justice and that he would use the Legacy only for honorable ends.”
“And you believed him?” Seren asked, astonished mostly by the answer but also by the accuracy of Zed’s guess.
“No,” Eraina answered. “I believed in you.”
Seren looked at Eraina in utter confusion.
“Tell me, Seren,” Eraina said. “What do you have faith in?”
“What do you mean?” Seren asked. “I pray to Kol Korran a little, but I picked that up from Jamus. My parents prayed to the entire Host, but I never did.”
“Why not?” Eraina asked. “The gods exist to care for us, just as we exist to serve them.”
“I figured that they were busy,” Seren said. “I’m just one person. They must have better things to do. Prayer seems too much like begging.”
“And Kol Korran?” Eraina asked. “Why is he the exception?”
“He’s the god of thieves, so I’m sort of his job, right?” Seren said with a small smile. “I pray to him out of habit. I don’t place a lot of faith in things I can’t see. I guess that sounds sort of blasphemous to a paladin.”
“You’d be surprised,” Eraina murmured. “A paladin does not believe blindly, for if we did, our faith would be without worth. A paladin does not hurl herself into battle and beg Boldrei for salvation. A champion who cannot succeed without her favor is no champion at all. A paladin does not close her eyes to the world and wait for Boldrei’s voice to fill the emptiness. We see the will of the goddess in all things, but mostly through people. I have faith in the goodness of mankind. Though I may seem cynical, and I have been disappointed frequently, I can assure you that I see miracles every day. When I saw you had returned to Karia Naille, I knew Boldrei had spoken.”
Seren continued to stare at Eraina in puzzled silence.
“Jamus Roland looked upon you as his daughter, Seren,” Eraina said. “He wanted to take you from Wroat, to give you a better life. That was part of his deal with me. My father had his flaws and often failed, but he never ceased to try to make the world a better place. Any person in whom he would place such faith is a person in whom I will believe in as well. You saw something worthy in this crew, something that made you return. I have faith in you, Seren, and that is why I remain.”
“No,” Seren said. “You remain because Zed Arthen knocked you unconscious.”
Eraina laughed quietly and cast a guarded look about them. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. “What a pitiful Sentinel Marshal I would be if I let one man defeat me in such a clumsy manner. Be honest, Seren, did you not think it a bit foolish of me to threaten Dalan to his face, on his own ship, while so heavily outnumbered. I did not even call upon my dragonmark to protect me. Strange?”
“I did think it strange,” Seren admitted.
Eraina smiled enigmatically. “And now I am here,” she said.
“But you said …” Seren began.
“I said Dalan would not escape me.” Eraina finished the sentence for her. “And he has not. I said I would find allies.” The paladin placed a hand on Seren’s shoulder. “And I have. Honesty in all things. I stand by you, Seren, and as long as Dalan keeps his word I stand by him as well.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Seren asked.
“Then I hope you will stand by me,” Eraina said, her voice taking a dangerous edge. “For your own good as well as mine.”
Seren nodded dumbly.
Eraina looked satisfied and returned to sorting crates. She chatted idly with Seren as they worked, asking her mostly about her time in Wroat. The paladin was particularly interested in stories of her father. She often interrupted Seren in midstream when she attempted to embellish the tales or gloss over his shadier accomplishments. Eraina had an unerring sense for falsehood that seemed more a natural talent than any form of magic. She wished only to hear the truth about her father’s life, as much as Seren would tell her. She accepted all of it, good and bad, with the same sad smile.
Omax entered the hold after they had been working and talking for nearly an hour. The warforged watched them only briefly before joining in their labor. The work went much more quickly after that, with Omax effortlessly lifting crates the two of them could barely budge together. Gerith entered much later, greeting them with a shriek when he discovered his comfortable chaos had become regimented, efficient order. He gave Eraina a scathing glare, whimpered at Seren like a hurt child, and stalked out of the hold with a sack of potatoes over one shoulder. Eraina and Seren looked at each other in silence for several seconds, then burst into laughter. Omax watched them thoughtfully for several moments, then laughed as well.
With the job complete, Seren excused herself and headed back above deck. She leaned out over the rail as far as she dared, letting the unimpeded wind wash over her shoulders and cool her after the hard work. She noticed Zed still sitting on his barrel. He stared off into the distance blankly, watching the land speed past as smoke drifted idly from his pipe.