A portly man wearing a leather apron with several huge stone mugs hanging from his belt approached them. He staggered when he walked, and his cheeks were a bright red. Under his left arm he carried a sloshing bucket full of a greenish liquid.
'Krogynth, gentlemen?' asked the overly jolly man.
Nazeem was on his feet in a flash, taking a giant-sized mug of whatever it was the man was peddling.
'Krogynth?' asked Ryder.
Nazeem's eyes were wide as he looked down into the grog. 'It's a type of moonshine,' explained the Chultan.
'Made from a fermented green mold,' expanded the jolly man.
'And you drink this?' asked Ryder.
Nazeem took a large quaff then smacked his lips, wiping off any leftover drips with the back of his hand. 'Don't knock it until you try it. Krogynth is hard to make and even harder to come by if you don't know the recipe.' He held his mug out to Ryder. 'You may never again get the opportunity to try it.'
'Well,' said Ryder, reaching out to take the mug from his friend. He sniffed it. The green liquid smelled vaguely like licorice root. 'Since you put it that way.' He lifted the stone mug with both hands and took a sip.
Despite its mild scent, Krogynth had a rather abrasive flavor. 'It tastes like currants mixed with earwax.'
The jolly man let out a belly laugh. 'Don't it though?' He dipped another mug into the bucket and offered it to Ryder.
He pointed to the Chultan. 'Let him have it.' He looked down into the huge mug in his hands. It was more than half full. 'I'll just finish this one.'
'Suit yourself,' said the jolly man, giving the fresh vessel of Krogynth to Nazeem.
The Chultan lifted his mug. 'To freedom,' he said.
Ryder lifted his own. 'To going home,' he replied.
Then both men drank.
As Ryder lowered his mug from his face, he looked up at Giselle standing over him.
'Having a good time, I see.' She knelt beside him.
Ryder swallowed his mouthful of the foul-tasting liquid. The first sip he'd taken was starting to hit his head. His muscles relaxed, and the aches in his bones seemed to ease some.
'Yes,' he said. 'I do believe we are.'
Giselle smiled. She had the most beautiful brown eyes.
'Good.' She grabbed hold of his arm. 'Now let me take a look at those wounds of yours.'
Ryder let her have his arm. He enjoyed the touch of her skin. 'I thought you were going to have a healer come look at me.'
She pushed back the edge of his tattered gray tunic. 'That's what I'm doing.'
'You're a cleric?'
Giselle ran her fingers along his arm, poking at the bruises. She hit one that hurt like the nine hells, and Ryder bit down on his lip to keep from shouting.
'Does this surprise you?' she asked.
As the pain subsided, Ryder lifted his mug, struggling a bit with only one hand, and took a big gulp of the green stuff. 'No,' he said after swallowing. 'I guess nothing about you should surprise me anymore.'
Finishing her examination, Giselle fished around inside of her pouch and pulled out a stoppered bottle with a waxy substance covering the top. 'Well, I'm not,' she said, laughing as Ryder's jaw dropped open. She shoved the bottle into his free hand. 'Unless you count handing out healing potions.'
Ryder put down his mug of Krogynth and opened the bottle. 'You're full of surprises.' Then he downed the contents. Immediately he could feel the magical warmth spread out through his body, reaching from his stomach and touching everything out to the tips of his fingers. He exhaled as he lowered the bottle from his lips. He felt whole again, the most exquisite sensation he'd experienced in recent memory.
'Thank you,' he said, letting the bottle slip to the ground.
'I'm glad you enjoyed it.'
Ryder tested his joints, relishing the feeling of his body working the way it was supposed to without experiencing any pain. 'I'll be ready to make the journey home tomorrow.'
'Journey home?' asked Giselle.
Ryder turned to her. 'I appreciate everything you have done for me,' he said. 'I owe you my freedom, and if I can ever repay that to you, I will do it gladly.' He touched her hand. 'But I must return to Duhlnarim.' He looked away. 'To my family.'
Giselle pulled away from him. 'I'm sorry, but you can't. You can't leave.'
Ryder got to his feet. 'What do you mean? Of course I can. Look.' He did a little jig in front of the fire to prove that he was healthy. 'See. I'm fine.'
Giselle shook her head. 'No, I mean I can't just let you leave.'
Ryder looked down on her, sadness filling his heart. 'I know it's hard to let go, but I have responsibilities in Duhlnarim, Giselle, and there could never be anything between-'
Giselle stood up. 'No. I mean that once you've seen Fairhaven and the route that leads you here, you have to stay.' She looked at Nazeem. 'That goes for you too. And all the other freed men. Now that you know how to get to us, we can't let you go. None of you can leave.'
Ryder shook his head. It was clouded with Krogynth. 'So, what are you saying?'
'That you can join the Broken Spear and become one of us,' said Giselle, 'or you can stay here, in Fairhaven, as our prisoner.'
Ryder dived for the broken chain that had been his shackles. His fingers wrapped around the rusted links as he tumbled back to his feet. Swinging the chain over his shoulder, he looked out at a half-dozen naked blades, their tips pointed at his chest.
'I would think twice if I were you,' said Giselle.
Ryder took in the scene before him. Six Broken Spear warriors had him backed in a corner. Giselle stood behind them. Her sword was still in its sheath, and she made no move to pull it out. She was fast, though, and Ryder had no doubt she could have it out and on him in a single heartbeat. Nazeem was outside of the ring of warriors. He stood on guard, his gaze darting from the Broken Spear to Ryder and back again, watching to see what was going to happen next.
'What do you intend to do, Ryder?' asked Giselle.
Ryder released the chain, letting it clatter to the ground. Then he lifted his hands in the air, putting them up so everyone could see he was unarmed.
'Please,' he said, looking at Giselle. 'How would you feel if our roles were reversed? What if you were in Duhlnarim needing to get back here to the Broken Spear?'
Giselle took a deep breath. 'Then I would try to get accustomed to life in Duhlnarim.'
Ryder grit his teeth. 'You wouldn't even try to come back here, to return to the people who mattered to you most? I find it hard to believe that you would so easily give up all that you had worked for.'
'I understand what you are trying to do, and perhaps you are right.' Giselle grimaced. 'But I can't risk the safety of everyone in Fairhaven just because you are homesick. And no matter how persuasive your arguments, I don't intend to change my mind.'
'You know,' replied Ryder, 'it doesn't matter what reason you give yourself for putting me in chains. Call it whatever you want. You'll still be an oppressor, just like the men you rescued me from.'
Giselle took a deep breath and sighed. 'So,' she said, a look of disappointment on her face, 'what's it going to be? You can keep your freedom if you promise to stay.'
Ryder shook his head. 'I can't do that.'
'That's what I thought.' Giselle shook her head. 'All right.' She turned and started walking away. 'Take them to the cage.'
'Not Nazeem,' shouted Ryder. 'He has nothing to do with this.'
'Your actions have condemned you both,' said Giselle over her shoulder, then she disappeared into the shadows.
'Let's go,' said one of the armed warriors, shaking his bare blade.
Ryder and Nazeem were guided across the courtyard at the tips of the Broken Spear's swords. On the far
