Realms of the Arcane - Brian M. Thomsen [83]
I blinked. She couldn't be lying. Even though I didn't know my name, I knew I had a knack for judging a person's character. I decided to change my tack.
"You can untie me," I assured her. "I have no desire to do myself or anyone else any harm. I just want to know what's going on."
She looked at me, and then at him.
He nodded. She started to untie me.
The proximity of her body tempted me with its earthy aroma: I was already well on the mend. Perhaps the preceding hours of unconsciousness had done me good.
Her burly companion stepped within bashing distance, should I try anything. She helped me into a sitting position.
"Thanks," I said absently, then added, " I hope I haven't been too much trouble, Miss…?"
"Scheiron," she replied. "Nymara Scheiron, but you can call me 'Kitten.'"
"I shall," I answered, and turned my attention to her companion. "And the same goes for you, my good man."
The fellow looked at me, then at Kitten, harrumphed, turned, and left me alone with my nurse. The sounds of his weighty footsteps echoed long after his hulking bulk had already left the room.
"Quite the conversationalist, isn't he?" I gibed.
Kitten's face became quite serious.
"I wouldn't talk that way about someone who had just saved my life," she scolded. "If he hadn't fished you out of the harbor, you would have been brigand bait for sure."
"The harbor?" I queried.
"That's right," she insisted. "He brought you back here himself, undressed you, and nursed you back to health, only leaving long enough to tend important business. Even then, he left me to watch over you."
He was my nurse. He rescued me, tended my wounds, undressed me…
I quickly snatched the blanket that had previously covered me and fixed it in place.
Kitten giggled. She stood up, saying, "Nothing that I haven't seen before, so don't trouble yourself."
Looking down, I realized my cover was unnecessary since I still wore pantaloons. I joined her laugh.
"Did I have a purse when he brought me in?"
"No," she replied, "and Lothar would surely have returned it to you if you had."
I slowly tried to stand, but was quickly discouraged by a forceful yet delicate hand that pressed me back to the cot.
''Later," she cooed. "You need your strength."
I reached out to bring her closer to me, but she quickly dodged my grasp.
"I guess you are feeling better," she replied.
"Where am I?"
"You were right with your first guess," she answered. "Waterdeep, the Dock Ward, Lothar's crib."
"And you are Kitten, Lothar's-"
"Friend," she interrupted, "and sometime business associate."
"Business?"
"There's plenty of time for that later."
For Kitten, later was a response to many things.
"How do you feel?" she asked, not quite as tenderly as before.
"Better," I replied. "No worse than if I had been dragged from Undermountain to Skullport by the hair of my head."
She smiled again.
I ran my hand over the top of my noggin, to make sure I wasn't bald, and said, "I just can't remember who I am, where I'm from, or what I'm doing here."
"What you are doing here is easy," Kitten replied. "You're getting your strength back. Perhaps you hit your head and fell overboard from one of the ships in the harbor. A blow like that can cause memory loss."
"So I've heard," I replied, and quickly realized something. "Funny that," I observed, "I didn't lose all of my memory."
"How so?" she queried, her expression again turning serious.
"I can't remember my name, but I recognized I was probably in the Waterdeep Dock Ward. I also knew about memory loss from a blow to the head, and all sorts of other stuff."
"What's the farthest back you can remember?"
"Waking up," I answered, quickly adding, "and seeing your angelic face."
She smiled.
I shrugged. "Well, it's a start."
A rapid thumping against the floorboards signaled that Lothar was once again approaching. He quickly shooed Kitten away and offered me a draught of something. I began to protest, but given my weakened condition, thought better of it, and accepted what I hoped was