Chapter Text
Yendar was at Forge's trial, of course, having been the one to bring him the bastard in. When the royal bursar deposited the hefty reward in Yendar's hand, Edgin nudged Holga's arm. "Not so altruistic now, eh?" he muttered.
"Shut up," Holga replied. "They're going to read the list of Forge's crimes."
"Fine," Edgin said, folding his arms. He settled for smiling smugly in Yendar's direction.
If Yendar noticed Edgin's pose, he didn't let on, which was annoying. But that was fine--Edgin was soon better entertained by the recounting of Forge's misdeeds for the past two years.
It took quite a while.
***
When Yendar dropped the reward purse into the hands of the first beggar he passed outside the palace gates, Edgin couldn't help himself.
"Seriously?" he called out. "You're not even going to treat yourself to a nice dinner?"
Yendar finished blessing the beggar and straightened to eye Edgin. "I've coin enough already to sup."
"Or another fancy cloak?" Edgin asked as he drew up even with the paladin. He nodded to the newly-elated beggar.
Yendar looked down at the velvet sweeping from his shoulder. "This was a gift."
"From a lady, or--"
"From the Holy Order of St. Eladra," Yendar replied.
Edgin blinked. "From nuns."
"Indeed," Yendar said.
Edgin shook his head. "Come on," he said, gesturing as he set to walking again.
"To what purpose?" Yendar asked, though he followed along easily enough.
"I'm buying you a drink," Edgin said, "for dragging Forge to justice."
"I seek no reward for doing the right thing," Yendar responded.
Edgin stared at Yendar.
"--but I will bear you company," the paladin amended, "if you so wish it."
"There you go." Edgin clapped him on the shoulder, forgetting he wore armor under the cloak. He shook his hand ruefully. "Tavern's this way."
***
Edgin was through two pints of ale and three stories while Yendar was still primly sipping from his first goblet of wine. Still, the paladin was decent company: He listened carefully, he asked questions at appropriate junctures, and if he didn't laugh at any of Edgin's jokes, well, he seemed to understand their intended rhetorical effect.
Edgin was contemplating a third mug when Yendar cleared his throat.
"Is there a particular reason," the paladin ventured, "you aren't joined this evening by your usual companions?"
"Oh," Edgin said. He signaled for a refill. "Well, Holga's got a new thing going on, I think, with a halfling from Neverwinter's court. And Simon's with my daughter Kira right now." At Yendar's questioning look, he shrugged. "Didn't seem right, to have Kira at the trial. Forge did take good care of her for two years, up until the whole 'threatening her life' thing at the end." The barkeep set the ale on the table in front of him; it sloshed onto him. Edgin scrubbed his hand against his tunic.
"What of the druid?"
"Doric?" Edgin took a long draught of his ale. "Partying with the rest of the Enclave, I suspect, after that sentencing." He set the mug down.
Yendar looked amused. "And you invited me here because you could not bear to drink alone?"
"I'm a bard," Edgin replied. "I never drink alone." He smiled now, but sharply. "The reason I asked you here, Yendar, is because I want to know."
"Know what?"
"If you didn't want the reward money, why'd you bother bringing Forge in since," Edgin leaned forward, "you so obviously want to see him dead?"
To Edgin's immense satisfaction, the paladin actually looked surprised.