Later that night

Milos opened the door to Tazi's comfortable prison, and she recognized the heavy scent of copper in the air. Her stomach roiled, and she nearly lost the meal she had just consumed. Tazi was not queasy by nature. It was just that the last time she entered a room that smelled as this one did, she discovered the dismembered remains of an old lover. That discovery took her on a journey many miles from home and did not end happily. She swallowed hard against the rising nausea and looked about in the flickering candlelight. Sprawled face down on his cot, the dwarf lay there more dead than alive.

Tazi rushed over to his side and sat gingerly on the edge of the blood-soaked bed. His face was partially obscured by the pillow, but she could see the slow rise and fall of his back, so she knew he still breathed. He was filthy, and his clothes were torn. As far as she could tell, the most glaring injuries he suffered were the ones he sustained on his back. His tunic was shredded and stuck to his skin in a bloody puddle. Tazi carefully lifted it away from his ripped skin and, as she had no implements whatsoever, tore it open down the length of his back by hand. She hissed in distress at what she discovered.

Crisscrossing his sinewy back were ruby slashes that continued to seep blood. Grimacing in disgust at the extent of the injuries, Tazi glanced over at the older bodyguard who still stood calmly in the open doorway. Tazi knew he and Heraclos possessed scimitars, but these were not the wounds that a sharp blade would leave in a fair battle. Tazi studied the dwarfs torn flesh and realized these were the marks of some kind of savage beast.

"Mistress Naglatha's pet griffon," the guard offered in explanation as though he sensed Tazi's confusion.

Tazi had seen a griffon only once when she was growing up and knew them to be formidable beasts. Years ago, her father had been invited to enter the Hunting Gardens of the Hulorn. The Hulorn was Selgaunt's ruling merchant mayor, and he controlled an expansive set of grounds in the northeast section of the city. He kept it stocked with various exotic animals such as hippogriffs, pegasi, and sphinxes. When her father accepted the invitation, he had taken the opportunity to bring his little daughter with him. Tazi remembered the day as something special not because she saw so many amazing creatures, including a fledgling griffon going through its first molt, but because it was a day without rules and responsibilities. It had been a day where she had been just a little girl and the Old Owl had been just a daddy.

"I see.” Tazi replied, returning to the present. "Well, if he is going to survive his run-in with your mistress's pet, he's going to need a healer now." The guard remained impassive to Tazi's demand. Her bargain with Naglatha had really changed very little of their living arrangements, Tazi realized, not that she had really believed otherwise.

"All right then," she tried, "if that is too much to ask, could I at least have some basic supplies?"

"What do you have in mind?" the guard finally asked.

"Another tub of clean, warm water, towels, bandages, any salves that might be handy and anything for pain that you can get your hands on."

When the guard stood motionless, Tazi snapped, "Look, Naglatha spared his life at my request. Right now, she wants me, and I suspect she'd do a fair bit to see that I at least have the illusion of happiness. If you don't get me at least some of those items, the only thing that is going to please me at the moment will be to see you try to fiold your own with that griffon, and I won't hesitate to tell her that. Now go!"

Tazi could see that Milos contemplated her words very briefly before shutting the door. Maybe he even went to get me some supplies, she thought ruefully. She turned her attention back to the dwarf who needed help regardless. Careful not to move him unnecessarily, she rose slowly and went to the table where the tub of old water and linens were. The water was dirty but would do in a pinch if that was all she had to work with. She found a few linens that were still fresh, and she began to rip them into strips that she could use as makeshift bandages. While she was gathering up what supplies she could, Milos pushed open the door with his shoulder. His arms were full of gauze, salves, a fresh tunic and a few other items Tazi could not easily recognize. Heraclos marched in behind him with a small basin of steaming water. Tazi moved the small table against Justikar's cot and motioned to it.

"Just put all that here," she directed them. The bodyguards obliged silently and stacked the medical supplies carefully on the small stand. Without a word to her or a backward glance at the dwarf, the two filed out. Tazi shrugged, pleased that she at least had something for the dwarfs injuries. Then she set about cleaning him up.

Tazi took one of the clumps of gauze and dipped it into the warm water. She wrung out the excess moisture and began to very delicately clean out some of the dirt and debris from Justikar's wounds. As soon as the warm, moist cloth touched the dwarf, he moaned and stirred.

"Leave off," he murmured angrily. "Don't touch me."

He feebly tried to swat at her with one hand.

"Just hold still," Tazi tried to soothe him. "I want to clean these up a little," she explained, referring to his messy wounds. "I'll be quick about it."

"I don't need you touching me," he growled, his voice growing stronger as the water roused him some. He squirmed a little, and that caused one of his many wounds to flow more freely.

Tazi threw the bloody cloth on the floor and grabbed the dwarf by his shoulders. As she tried to pin him down, she shouted, "Keep fighting me, and you're going to bleed to death! Judging by these wounds, dying is something you seem to fight tooth and nail. You've made it this far, so don't ruin it now." The dwarf lessened his struggles, but Tazi wasn't sure it was because she demanded it, or he was just growing weaker.

"Look," she explained, "twice now you owe me your life."

"What?" he rasped.

"Naglatha would have let her manservants feed what's left of you to that griffon if I hadn't asked for your life." The duergar managed a snort, and Tazi smiled slightly. "That's right; thanks to me you get to continue to breathe, at least a little while longer. The deal she and I struck was that Naglatha's to give you your freedom in exchange for your assistance. Just like me."

"I see," Justikar whispered painfully.

"I agree," Tazi said. "I don't believe her either, but it buys us more time. As for me, I'll consider us even if you help me in this mission she's scheming. Do that," Tazi added, "and we're quit of any debt between us. Agreed?"

The duergar mumbled something unintelligible to Tazi. She knew he was angry but counted on the fact that he hated to be obliged more. She picked up a fresh bit of gauze and started on his wounds again. When he didn't squirm, Tazi smiled and suspected they had a deal.

She continued the long process of cleaning his injuries of debris. She had learned the hard way that if they weren't cleaned well, infection and scarring could set in. Her right wrist still bore the scars of a dog attack she had suffered as a child. She had been afraid to tell her father about it and had hidden the injury. It was only after it started to fester that she told anyone at all. Tazi's mother had her healed, but asked that a scar remain to remind her daughter of foolish choices.

As she dabbed at the wounds, she saw the dwarfs shoulders tense in pain, though he remained stoically silent throughout her ministrations. Tazi attempted a trick, of sorts, to take his mind off of his cuts.

"So," she asked him casually, to distract him from what she had to do, "just how did you manage to slip out of here last night?" She was about to ask the question again, uncertain if Justikar had heard her or if he was simply trying to ignore her again, when he turned his head the other way on the pillow to face her. She could see his left eye had swollen almost shut. He peered at her through a narrow slit.