[Nuranar]

Lissi hated the caves with a passion. She had lived all her life in the city, but the times she'd loved best had been out on the land around it. Even this wretched, fearful refugee life had a strange wonder to it: the fascination of wandering, of an ever-changing landscape, of being enclosed by nothing. Most of the people seemed to fear it, afraid of the very space and emptiness that soothed her. They liked the solid security of thick walls. Much good those did back in Fornost! she thought in disgust.

Space, freedom, the ability to see! Lissi didn't want to hide behind walls, she wanted to see what was coming and prepare - or go out and meet it on her own terms. But in these horrible holes in the ground, everything was changed. Everywhere the thick, soft darkness pressed in. A wandering torch might keep it at bay for a little space, but it was always there in the corners, ready to conquer again. The very size of the place worked against them: An army could hide in any of these massive halls, protected by the ominous dark. And they were to divide their forces (and get lost, most likely) and look for supplies? Brilliant, indeed! Lissi thought bitterly.

Casually, she glanced around. If anyone else felt her apprehensions, they were concealing it with great skill. Was she just paranoid? At least no one looked happy about what they were doing. No - take that back. That kid in uniform was far too excited. He would be a danger, to himself if not the whole group.

Despite the bitterness, her mind was trying to plan ahead. There was little she could do to organize their party; the soldiers should handle that, and even if they were incompetent they would not welcome her interference. Carthor could handle himself; he had already recovered his own arms and taken back the bladed stave she had brought from their house. He had not once mentioned rejoining the ranks, however. Instead, he spent most of his time with Lissi, riding beside her and trying to talk. Lissi did not want to repulse him, but she had been hurt so badly in the past she was afraid to open up to him. For now, theirs was an easy, warm, but superficial relationship.

Faerim - well, Faerim was still grieving for the Elves who had died. Her eldest son seemed so mature and so capable that she had come close to forgetting how young he really was. These were desperately hard times for anyone, but particularly for such a young man. Old enough to know his duty and able to carry it out, he lacked the knowledge and steadiness of greater maturity. And his affections, as much as he might have argued the point, still had the warmth and generosity of childhood. He was only just learning how much it could hurt to care for people. There was strength in him, though. Lissi knew he would be ready for whatever came.

And there was Brander. Lissi's gaze slid over to him, sitting silently against the wall near her. He had never been very communicative, but instinctively she knew how terribly it must hurt him, to be blind in this situation. Not only was he unable to help defend the group, he was a liability: Someone else had to take care of him especially. Lissi could not imagine how she would feel in Brander's place. She had done her best, though, teaching him to ride well, to understand what his horse was doing, even to follow her without being lead, using his ears and trusting his horse. But he had never responded or even thanked her. She knew Carthor's disappointment in him had deeply hurt Brander. He had certainly resisted all of Carthor's repentant overtures. Perhaps he was angry at her, too. Lissi shook her head. Perhaps he was forgetting - he wasn't the only one Carthor had hurt. But whatever happened, she had to take care of him. The club Faerim had brought back was still in their gear somewhere.

Their gear - Lissi hopped up quickly, then bent to Brander. "Come on, Brander," she said, smiling so he could hear the friendliness in her voice. "We need to get some things out of our gear." Her son rose carefully, holding an elbow away from his side. "Of course," he said. Lissi took the arm easily, thus able to guide him without trouble. They had worked out the system some little time ago, and it worked well.

Carthor was sharpening his sword not too far from their piled-up saddles and small heap of saddlebags and packs. Lissi knelt and rummaged through it, her hand pausing as it touched something smooth and cold, then moving on to find the club. "Here," she said, pressing it into Brander's hand. "Do you remember this?"

He smiled - very slightly, but it was there. "I do."

"You may need it, I think. Why don't you ask Faerim to show you how to use it? You might be able to work out some signals, too. He'll be better at that than me." She called Faerim over and left the two of them together.

Swiftly then she selected the most essential articles from the rest and filled the smallest pack. Last of all she slid out the short sword Faerim had given her. Finding a long strap among their gear, she cut it to size. With that and some narrower pieces of leather she rigged a makeshirt but effective swordbelt.

Swiftly Lissi stood to her feet and shook out her travel-stained skirts, then buckled the belted sword around her waist. She was glancing toward the boys when she surprised the look on Carthor's face. He was still sitting there, but grinning in surprise and admiration. And the gleam in his eye was reflected from no lantern. Lissi raised an eyebrow and winked coquettishly. Then she turned and walked away toward their sons, swishing her skirts.