"Vambran," he said, catching up one last time. "My name is Vambran."
It was a long time later, well into the afternoon. They lay on a carpet of soft moss, most of their clothes spread out upon the ground beneath them. Vambran was on his back, staring at the bright sky partially visible through the trees, and Shinthala was sitting up, hugging her knees, her back to him. He had not realized how tense he had been until afterward. For the moment, at least, he was allowing himself to relax.
Shinthala's words were sudden, unexpected, like everything she did. "You say that we do not work at cross purposes, but I do not see it. What is your goal, if it is not to fight, as all the other mercenaries battle, further despoiling the woods?"
Vambran glanced at the woman beside him. She was staring off at some distant point again, a sign that she was thinking. "My only ambition, and that of those who serve under me, is the rescue of our companions," the lieutenant answered. "It is not my intention nor my desire to tarry in the Nunwood for longer than necessary."
"Because you did not intend to be here in the first place," Shinthala said, repeating what Vambran had told her earlier. "But you also told me that you are, in fact, embroiled in these vicious displays of brutality in some way."
"Yes," Vambran admitted, "but only indirectly. It is a long tale, suitable for telling at another time, but-"
"We are in no hurry," Shinthala said, looking back at him languidly over her shoulder. Vambran cocked his head to one side, puzzled by her interest in the affairs of House Matrell. He wanted to tell her that he was actually in a hurry, but he doubted very seriously that she would share his sense of urgency just then.
So be it, he decided at last. He would tell the sordid truth in all its glory.
Vambran told Shinthala the story in its entirety. The woman stopped him and asked questions of him at several different points, to clarify events or to reveal some bit of information that he had glossed over. It took Vambran the better part of an hour to recount the whole events of the murdered kitchen maid and his family's involvement in the business alliance that had been the architect of the dreadful crime. He finished with the revelation of his sister's communication, and her struggles with events back in Arrabar. Telling that part of it made him feel restless.
I should not be here, he thought. I should be at home, helping my family.
Shinthala was quiet again for a long time. After the silence stretched on for several moments, she returned to her original query. "The soldiers are fighting differently. There has always been war in this region, but it is a pale imitation of true war. The soldiers march about, chasing one another, but they rarely attack. Instead, they negotiate an outcome, determined by sacks of coin and old debts repaid. Then they march away, ready to play this game again another day. It is foolish, but it is not so bloody.
"Now, they kill with abandon."
Vambran saw her shoulders sag, sensed her sorrow. He understood that, though she had little tolerance for the world beyond her woods at large, she still suffered to see relentless killing. And though he knew he personally had little to do with the bloodshed and violence visited upon the people of the woods, he felt a sense of guilt wash over him, guilt at his chosen life, that of a professional soldier. "My uncle and brother and their partners sought to profit from the fighting," he reminded her. "Perhaps they foresaw greater profit through protracted, total war."
"Perhaps, but I think there is more to this tale," Shinthala replied. "The men who kill with abandon fight on behalf of the city of Reth. They make a point of claiming so, to all who survive the carnage. It is as though the leaders of that city wish it to be known that they push against us, and against all other armies serving all other patrons."
"Yes," Vambran said, his sense of sorrow and guilt growing at the woman's descriptions. "Perhaps they wish to have an insulating layer of anonymity between themselves and the actual armies. They will profit from the increased control of the woods and the logging that goes on there after they have secured the field, but they do not want the populace to make the connection between the coin they spent slaughtering all opposition and the coin they gained cutting down trees."
"Perhaps," Shinthala repeated, but she sounded doubtful. "But don't you think it odd that these 'businessmen'"-and she spoke that word with great distaste, reminding Vambran just how vast was the gulf between their lives-"would choose to back the government of Reth, formerly a part of your own country, against soldiers serving Chondath? Is not Hlath still under the rule of Lord Wianar?"
Vambran considered the woman's words, trying to make some sense of why Grozier Talricci and Grand Trabbar Lavant would choose to fund an army to go against Chondath, especially in such a conspicuous manner. It was as though they were trying to draw attention to themselves, trying to see what Hlath would do in response.
"They are trying to draw out the army of Hlath," he said, sitting up. "They are trying to goad Chondath into a reaction."
"And what would that reaction be?" Shinthala asked, as though she already knew the answer.
"Wianar would see an opportunity to retaliate," he said. "He might even see a chance to crush Reth's resistance once and for all," he added, realization dawning, "and restake his claim to that city as being part of Chondath. The alliance is working for Lord Wianar in secret!"
"Yes," Shinthala said, turning and looking at him, her emerald eyes sparkling dangerously. "And why, do you suppose, would this alliance you know of go out of its way to involve the Enclave? Why suffer the wrath of two enemies instead of just one unnecessarily?"
"Because," Vambran said slowly, thinking the issue through to its logical conclusion, "if Reth and the druids tear at one another, it weakens both of them, and the armies of Chondath will march into the aftermath and win an easy victory. Wianar reclaims Reth and grievously wounds the Emerald Enclave, long a thorn in his side, all at once."
"You are wise for one so young," Shinthala said, running her delicate fingers along his cheek. "But there is one part of this matter that you have not considered."
"What is that?"
"That you and your soldiers are from Chondath. Further, you serve the same temple that is a part of this alliance, a part of this conspiracy to raise war and retake lost territories. It would be natural to expect Lord Wianar to draw on every 'resource'"-and she gave Vambran a knowing look at the use of that word-"at his disposal to win his land back. That would include a very cooperative Temple of Waukeen, would it not? That would include the armies of the Order of the Sapphire Crescent, true?"
Vambran did not speak. The evidence was damning, and he had no rebuttal other than what he had already claimed.
"We cannot hope to win a two-front war," Shinthala said, drawing her shirt about herself. "And if we allow ourselves to be drawn into this conflict, that is precisely what will occur." Vambran nodded in understanding, beginning to pull on his own clothes. "But if we do not fight," she continued, "then we allow the people of the cities to control the woods, and we have failed in our course. So we are at a difficult crossroads."
At that point, Shinthala turned and looked at Vambran directly. "You have offered your help to us, Vambran," she said. "What do you propose to do to stop this plan?"
The lieutenant paused, considering what he was willing to do. He had offered to help, and he intended to prevent the war, but his methods of doing so might not make sense to Shinthala, who seemed to approach all things in a direct manner. "I will aid you as I can," he offered, rising to his feet, "but I must also look to my own soldiers. They follow me loyally, and I must do what I can to save them. Let me free them from the army camped in the clearing, and I will find a way to diffuse this impending cloud of war that hangs over the Nunwood."