___________________________________________________
(I’ve
collected the weapons of the seven on a special page. Just follow the link)
By
the time they reached the cairn indicating the end of the pass, it was
mid-afternoon. A hazy white sun pushed
weakly through the clouds, occasionally bursting through to light up a patch of
earth for a second before being enveloped again. Chris and Vin rode in front in a companionable silence, followed
fairly closely by Buck and JD, the young squire peppering the older Captain
with questions. Ezra rode next, his
eyes staring absently into the distance of the hills, content to be alone. Josiah and Nathan marked the tail, the
healer speaking in low, soothing tones to his still mourning friend as the rode
together.
The
bandits had not bothered them, which was not surprising. As a group, they were
pretty daunting. Chris and Buck’s
bodies and saddles were both covered with weapons, and their straight backed
postures marked them as warriors. The
paladin wore his ring-hilted broadsword at his waist, along with a long black
rope dagger. Strapped to his saddle, meanwhile, was a long, two-handed
broadsword with an iridescent hilt, a second short sword, a small throwing axe,
small dagger, and a mace. Everything
had a dark tone, much like their owner.
In contrast, Buck’s weapons, while equally numerous, seemed lighter.
Like
his paladin, the former captain wore a ring-hilted short sword at his waist,
along with a pretty, engraved, wood-hilt dagger. The dagger had been a gift from his king upon gaining his post as
captain of the guard, and carried the Bryshnian coat of arms. It never left Buck’s side. Meanwhile, his
saddle bore a second short sword, a war hammer and impressive war axe, and a
long, two-handed sword with a reddish-brown hilt. Like Chris’s, the long sword was an infantry weapon, so was
rarely used except in battle.
The
others were no less well equipped, though in different ways. Vin’s large crossbow was once more loose on
his back, and a longbow was attached to his saddle along with two quivers of
arrows, the leather shooting glove on his left hand showing he knew how to use
it. He also wore a short sword at his waist.
It was the typical archer’s sword – light and used only when necessary.
Ezra
carried a spear pointed short sword at his waist along with a matching dagger,
the thief no longer pretending to be a foppish nobleman. A talon dagger – almost triangular in shape
-- lined the back of his belt, and a long main gauche was attached to one
boot. He wore a dark green cloak over a
heather green aketon -- a quilted linen garment worn instead of mail -- and
black breeches. While still of good
quality, they were a traveler’s clothes and showed a few worn patches – even a
knife slit or two that hadn’t been stitched up all that well. The rapier that matched the main gauche and
the gold hilted dagger from the night before were wrapped and hidden on the
saddle.
Behind
him, Josiah’s white robes and the long oak staff across his back betrayed him
as a mage, and the two headed axe on his saddle was dark with use, as was the
golden sickle on his belt. Even if one
were foolish enough to think they could defeat a magic-wielder, the mage’s
large size and heavily muscled arms were proof that, even without magic, he
would not fall easily.
Nathan
and JD, meanwhile, although the least visibly intimidating of the group, also
carried themselves with competence.
Nathan’s black rapier and accompanying main gauche were at his waist,
and the bulge under his silken cloak indicated the throwing knives were again
on his back. Another knife was hidden inside one boot, this one with a red hilt
reminiscent of a poisonous viper in color.
JD carried only a knife and a dagger, but a rapier was hidden on his
saddle along with a main gauche. The
others knew it was there, as would any spying bandit, even though none had seen
it unwrapped yet.
They
rested at the cairn, allowing the horses some water from the stream, and had a
late lunch. They retained their
pairings as they ate, with Ezra still slightly off to one side, leaning on his
horse. Josiah would look across at the
young man occasionally, but then Nathan would distract him. The thief didn’t seem to notice.
Vin
pulled out a piece of vellum with Tilluria painted on it and laid it out on a
rock. Chris and Buck joined him, each
having some experience in navigating Tallus while avoiding the bulk of the
armies.
Vin
sighed as he looked at the old map, his eyes trailing over the faded names of
towns and forts, knowing that many had been destroyed or badly damaged by the
war.
“It
is easy to understand why my people want to give up, Chris,” the scout
muttered, his eyes drawn to the small town of Tascosa – a border town that had
been one of the first to fall. It had
been his home, but was mostly ashes now.
A brief pang thudded in his chest, then faded, as it had often done in
the last four years.
“If
we can stop Farron, the war will be over,” Chris replied. “I’m betting his army won’t stay together
without a leader.”
“I
don’t know,” Buck frowned. “What if
someone tries to take his place?”
“Like
who?” Vin asked, curious. “Farron’s wizard’s will not follow an army
general. Only royalty can rule, we all
know that.”
“There
is this mysterious heir,” Buck replied, glancing at Ezra before turning to them
both with heavy lidded eyes. “Look,
Chris, I’ve been thinking. If what Hannah told us was true, the mandate will
simply shift to Ezra’s exiled prince, and we know nothing about the man.”
Chris
nodded, “I know.”
“And
when that happens, we’ll have to find him and…. Chris, we’ll have to kill the
prince too, regardless of who’s friend he is, if we hope to end the mandate’s
threat.”
Chris
didn’t flinch, “I said, I know.”
“Ezra
would become our enemy then, Chris.”
“Buck…”
Chris fixed him with a dark stare. “We
were not brought together by chance. I
for one, am willing to assume there is reason behind this, for why we are all
here. If it comes to the point where we
will have to kill Ezra to get to his prince, we will. Until then, I plan to let this destiny of ours unfold on its
own. As much as I hate walking blind,
we have to trust in Hannah’s vision of us, or we are all doomed.”
Buck
shrugged, “I know, and I agree with you.
I just wanted….” He paused, and took a breath. “So you would kill him,
if you had to, to get to Farron’s son.” His normally bright eyes were dark as
they regarded the paladin, not challenging, merely awaiting a soldier’s
confirmation.
Chris’s
eyes narrowed. “With no other choice, yes.”
Buck nodded and smoothed down his moustache, his eyes no longer able to
meet his leader’s. Vin, however, had no
such compunction.
“Doesn’t
seem right,” he stated quietly.
“No,”
Chris sighed, and pulled his black leather gloves back on his hands. “Right now, though, I’m not going to think
about it.” He looked at the map, and
trailed the path out of the pass. At
the bottom, he followed a right fork with his finger until it reached a thin
light blue line. “Here, look, if we
follow the Assabet stream, we avoid most of the towns….” he continued to
outline his plan, and Vin allowed himself to be drawn back to his map. Buck watched them for a moment, not really
paying attention, then slipped away to where he had left JD. As he got closer, his normally gregarious
attitude returned, and he smiled.
The
kid was holding one of Buck’s short swords in each hand, their points parallel
to the ground, trying to keep them even.
Buck had mentioned that they weren't either more than three pounds, but
holding them steady for as long as the kid had had made them seem much heavier,
and his arms had begun to shake slightly. Still, the look on his face showed a
determination that the hardened Guard Captain had to admire. Buck walked around him, an amused smile on
his face. JD simply followed him with
his eyes, never once losing the slightly crouched position Buck had made him
take. Finally, Buck nodded.
“Not
bad, kid. That’s enough for now.”
JD
grinned, letting both points fall into rapidly the dirt, scattering bits of
grass and mud. Buck’s eyes
narrowed.
“That
did not mean drop them in the dirt.
Clean them before you sheathe them, Squire,” he ordered. JD blushed deeply, lifting to rest on sword
point on his foot, while he picked the other up to brush the dirt from it with
his cloak.
“So,
which do you like better?” Buck asked, still watching.
JD
frowned, and hefted the sword he was cleaning.
He tossed it from hand to hand for a moment, then sheathed it. Placing the sword on a nearby rock, he
lifted the other and repeated the motion. Still frowning, he started to clean
it as he had done with the other.
“I
don’t know. They both feel about the
same.”
Buck
tilted his head, “Well, they should feel similar. They are both weighted and balanced for me. Shall we have a look at yours? I think you’ve kept it secret long enough.”
JD
grinned, nodded fiercely, and rushed off to put the two short swords back on
Buck’s saddle before running to his own mount and pulling out the hidden
rapier. The captain crossed his arms,
watching, interested in the light on the boy’s face.
Moments
later, the boy returned with his sword.
It was medium in length, perhaps thirty or so inches, and seemed to fit
well in the boy’s hand. He held it up
proudly, letting the hazy sunshine glint of the rounded edge. Buck just stared a moment, unable to hide
his astonishment.
It
was beautiful. Silver, ivory and
leather ran together to make up the hilt, and the steel of the blade was
tempered to a fine sheen. He’d only
seen its like in a few places, usually on the waist of a high lord or
royal. For a moment, Buck wondered if
the rapier had been stolen, but the boy looked too comfortable with it. In fact, he looked like he had been born
with it in his hand.
The
captain held his hand out, and JD promptly handed it over. It wasn’t heavy, in fact, it felt lighter
than either of Buck’s short swords, despite being longer. He tried a few slashes, impressed at the
evenness of the balance and the flexibility of the metal. It was a good weapon – not an infantryman’s
weapon, like his or Chris’s, but well designed for individual combat. It was the weapon of a Ronin, a good
Ronin. The only nicks looked
purposefully added, except for a few on the flat of the blade.
“Where
did you get this?” Buck asked reverentially, handing it back.
“It
was my father’s,” JD replied, happy to note that Buck seemed impressed. “I never met him, but my mother used to tell
me stories about him, about his travels and how he gave up his warrior life for
her. The sword is Drawvish. They made it for my father after he helped
defend them against an Elvin attack in the Northern Reaches, as a gift. My mother said he was a real hero to them,
and that they enchanted the sword to always be weighted perfectly for him and
all of his descendants. If he hadn’t died, I might have followed in his
footsteps instead of staying to take care of her….” The boy trailed off, lost
in his dreams, and made a few slashing moves of his own. They weren’t as smooth as Buck’s, but they
showed promise.
“Somebody
showed you how to use it?” the Captain asked, seeing some elements of
training. JD nodded, his eyes on the
sword point as it shivered in the wind with each stab.
“The
Colonel, one of the mine owners, he gave me a few lessons when I was younger,
before he got too old to teach. He was
a Colonel in the Tillurian army before he retired.”
“What
was his name?” Vin asked, sidling up to join them, adjusting the bracer on his
drawing arm absently as he too became mesmerized by the beauty of the
weapon.
“Matheson.”
Vin
whistled, looking back to JD, “Damn,
kid. Colonel Jasper Matheson?”
“Yeah,
you heard of him?” JD stopped his
slashing, his eyes open.
“Sure. He’s a legend kid. A real hero. The Queen’s
mother, Erinna, gave Matheson enough money when he retired to buy up a whole
castle. Always wondered what happened
to him.” Vin tilted his head, and JD
grinned. The boy started in on his
practice again.
Buck
pursed his lips. “Well, you need work, kid, but, from the looks of it, you’ve
got some talent.”
“That’s
what the Colonel said. Said I had a
natural affinity.”
“Hmmm,”
Buck leaned against a nearby boulder.
“You know how to use any other weapons, kid?”
JD
stopped slashing. “No, not really. The Colonel once said he wanted to teach me
how to wield the main gauche that goes with it, but never did. He also thought I should learn hand to hand
combat, with a dagger, ‘cause I’m quick.”
“Quick?”
“Yeah.
‘Course that might be because he was sort of old,” the kid frowned. “Said I used to tire him out.”
“Oh,
I don’t know,” Buck had crossed his arms by now, and looked at Vin. “If he’s
half as famous as our scout here says he is, then he probably meant you were
quick on your feet. Means you could
probably wield a rapier and the main gauche at the same time with some
effectiveness.”
“How
fast do you think he is?” Vin asked of Buck, while JD watched them.
Buck
shrugged, “Can you run, kid?”
JD
grinned, “Faster than anyone I know.”
Buck
nodded. “Looks like we got ourselves a rabbit, Vin. When we make camp tonight, JD,
I’ll clean up your sword act and we’ll start on the dagger.”
“What
do you know of dagger fighting, Buck?” Chris laughed, walking up with Solon.
“You know perfectly well you’re more muscle than speed. Buck here is an excellent swordsman, JD, and
good with an axe in a pinch, but I’ve never seen him comfortable with a
dagger.”
“You
making fun of me, Larabee?” Buck retorted, hands on his hips.
“Nah,
just thought maybe you should ask someone more adept at daggers,” he looked
over at Ezra. The thief was still
leaning on his chestnut stallion, seemingly oblivious to the others around him.
“Standish?”
Buck hissed. “You’re joking right?”
“Nope. Got a feeling he’s got a knack for
them. That, and the fact that he has
three of them attached to his body along with that nasty spear-pointed short
sword of his. You ask me, it’s just
another really long dagger.” The sword
in question was about twenty five inches long, with a sharp end that was
clearly designed more for stabbing than cutting.
“Nathan’s
also pretty good with them knives of his,” Vin noted, before Buck could argue
again. “He’s got a main gauche to go
with that pretty rapier of his too.”
“Maybe
you should ask one of them to teach you, JD,” Chris finished.
“Now
look here,” Buck grunted, “I’m the boy’s mentor.”
“Yeah,
but with a different weapon. You can
teach him to wield a broadsword, Buck, but he’d probably get better training in
the use of his rapier by one of the other two.”
Buck
grimaced, but didn’t immediately reply.
JD, meanwhile, was looking speculatively at both Nathan and Ezra.
“Which
do you think is better?” he asked.
“Honestly?”
Vin asked. “I’m betting Ezra’s quicker
and sneakier, but he looks more like a hand to hand man to me. Hence all the
daggers. I’m guessing he cheats when he
fights. Nathan’s probably more
traditional, better with a rapier and good with those knives, but not as adept
at close quarters.” He grinned and
looked at Chris. “Think we could get
them to spar tonight?”
Chris
frowned. Nathan was still angry with
the thief, despite having found all his things neatly arranged and packed in
his room when he woke up this morning. Ezra, on the other hand, still seemed
too distant to be trusted not to harm them.
“I’d rather not, Vin.”
“So,
who do I ask?” JD asked.
“Nathan,”
Buck stated firmly.
“Ezra,”
Vin said at almost the same time. When
Buck challenged him with a glare, Vin shrugged. “The boy’s quick. I’m
betting Ezra can teach him to work that aspect better.”
“Yeah,
but Nathan looks like he’d be a better teacher,” Buck answered. Vin shrugged. JD, meanwhile, was watching Chris, waiting for the final word.
“Ask
Ezra,” Chris said finally. When Buck
raised an eyebrow, Chris just mocked the expression. The captain repressed a
growl, and allowed himself to be overridden.
JD grinned and wandered across the camp, calling Ezra’s name.
“Are
you crazy? We have no idea how good
that cheat is,” Buck spat angrily.
“It’s
a tactical move, Buck. I want Ezra to
form a bond with someone, or else he’ll leave, just as Nathan predicts.” He looked at Buck with cold eyes, forcing
Buck to shift his gaze. “Ezra tried to
ingratiate himself with us through JD.
Why not work his little con the other way around?” he suggested quietly.
“Are
you sure this is a good idea?” Buck
replied, equally as quiet. “It feels like you’re using the boy.”
Chris
could only shrug.
“Chris,
have a look,” Vin whispered. The
paladin turned to watch Ezra and JD, and allowed himself a slightly smug
smirk. The thief was smiling at the
kid, the first genuine smile he’d seen on the man’s face since he met him, and
was listening openly as JD showed off his rapier. The younger man took the
rapier and looked down its length, then nodded and handed it back. Then he did something Chris didn’t expect.
He
pointed JD to Nathan.
The
kid frowned, said something, and looked over at Chris. Ezra followed the gaze and caught Chris’s
eye. He shook his head, and replied to
whatever JD said, not looking away from Chris.
The kid frowned up at the thief, then nodded and walked away, heading
towards Nathan. Ezra turned back to his
horse, ostensibly to check the girth.
Chris
growled.
“Well,
well,” Vin smiled. “Guess the con artist didn’t feel like being conned.” He chuckled as he walked away towards
Winchester, feeling his new friend’s glare boring deeply into his back. For some reason, this only made him laugh
harder.
_____________________________________________
They
made camp that night about half way down the pass, in a small clearing scouted
by Vin. A fresh spring bubbled up
nearby, creating a shallow pool. Both
Nathan and Ezra had taken the opportunity to bathe, much to the amusement of
the others. After dinner, Josiah had
wandered off on his own, ostensibly to practice communing with the elements upon
which he could draw magic, while Nathan, Buck and JD had found a nearby
clearing in which to do some training.
Under
Buck’s watchful eye, the healer put the kid through the motions, testing his
basic skills with the rapier. Like the
captain, he noticed immediately the training, but the boy’s balance was off,
worsened by an enthusiasm for rushing his lunges. The Moor almost laughed when JD stopped and unconsciously
massaged the muscles on his right leg, not surprised that they were
aching. Stepping over, he slapped the
squire on the back and saw him stagger.
“First
of all,” Nathan told him, “we’re going to have to get rid of that stagger.”
Not
long after, the healer was leading JD through a series of balance exercises,
having him hold both the rapier and the main gauche as he stretched. Then he had Buck spar with the kid, showing
him the effectiveness of some of the exercises. Through it all, the young man remained a rapt student.
In
all, the lesson took almost two hours, after which JD was sent to wash in the
frigid pond, much to Buck’s delight. He
considered following to tease him some more when he noted that Ezra had joined
them. The thief was standing to one
side, leaning on a tree, his rapier on his shoulder and main gauche tapping
lightly against his thigh. Nathan
hadn’t noticed where he stood leaning on his rapier, his mind drifting to the
lessons’ of his youth. It was not a
pleasant remembrance.
“Your
skill is indeed impressive, Master Jackson, as I surmised,” Ezra drawled. “May I ask, sir, how you acquired your
expertise? I always assumed healers
were brought up to avoid such pursuits.”
Nathan’s head had snapped up initially, startled by the intrusion, but
now he simply watched Ezra with a wolf’s wariness.
“Still
here I see,” the healer replied, ignoring Ezra’s query. He lifted his sword and mimicked Ezra’s
position.
“Bandit
country,” Ezra sighed, looking around at the black forest beyond the torch lit
clearing. “I did not lie when I said
that my companion was killed on the way to Four Corners. However proficient I may imagine myself to
be, I also know my limitations.”
“Ah,”
Nathan nodded, his voice cold. “Then I
assume you plan to leave us as soon as we get down.”
“Probably,”
the thief agreed, lifting the sword from his shoulder. “Until then, I was hoping you’d be kind
enough to give me a lesson?”
Nathan’s
eyes widened briefly, before being brought down in a frown. He was clearly trying to decide whether he
was being mocked. Ezra chuckled.
“I
assure you, good healer, that was not intended as a slight. My skill with a rapier is simply not as
effective as it is with my short sword.
While not bad, I have always wanted to improve, and, watching you with
JD, I thought maybe you could help me.”
He hefted the rapier.
“Pretty,”
Nathan complemented. It was gold, steel
and leather, not as fancy as JD’s, but of high quality.
“A
gift from my prince,” Ezra smiled. “Not as long as yours, but equally as
deadly. However, it is the main gauche
that makes it a truly exceptional pair of weapons.” He pulled the long dagger
from his boot and presented it. Like
the rapier, it was gold, steel and leather.
Nathan raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Looks
pretty normal…”
Click
Nathan
nearly jumped as Ezra pressed the hidden catch on the counterguard, turning the
single blade into three. “Gods alive,”
Nathan smiled, impressed despite himself, “That is nasty. A real trident blade -- I’ve only heard of
them. Very neat.”
“Very
neat,” Buck repeated, agreeing. “That
is not your average nobleman’s weapon.”
“I
am not your average nobleman,” Ezra grinned.
He pressed the catch again, returning the dagger to its original
setting. “So, Master Jackson, will you
instruct me?”
Nathan
watched him for a moment, then nodded.
“On two conditions.” Ezra raised
his eyebrows.
“Oh?”
“One,
that you promise to stay with us at least until we reach the first town in
Tilluria,” Nathan said. “And second,
that you promise never to use what I teach you against me.”
Ezra
laughed, then ducked his head. “A simple bargain, Master Jackson. You have my
word on both counts. Thank you.”
Nathan
shrugged, “Alright, let’s see how good you are.” He saluted Ezra, then set up his guard. Still grinning, the thief
imitated him.
Then
JD screamed.
____________________________________
Feeling
full of energy still, the young squire had quickly stripped by the moonlit pond
and gotten in, slipping under the water before the goosebumps had time to
form. He hated baths, all they did was
make his muscles cramp with the cold.
Still, Nathan had told him it was good for him, and so here he was.
Damn
it was cold!
After
a moment, he resurfaced, brushing black hair form his face with a shaking and
pale hand. Turning around, he was about
to go back to fetch the soap the healer had let him borrow when something
bright off to his left caught his eye.
Blinking away the water, he rubbed his eyes a few times to make sure he
wasn’t dreaming.
It
was a woman.
“Who
are you?” she asked timidly, holding a white shift about her body. Black curly hair rippled down her shoulders
to frame a pale face, while dark brown eyes stared at him balefully. When he didn’t answer immediately, she
titled her head to one side.
JD
had opened his mouth, but nothing had come out.
“Are
you a bandit?” she asked again, even more quietly. “Because…because, if you are.
I don’t have any money. I live just past the hillock behind here, with
my old mother. We have nothing.
Please…don’t hurt us.” Her voice was
soft, and, had JD been paying more attention, he might have noticed that there
was no fear on her face.
The
young squire swallowed, and shook his head at her statement. “No, no, uh, what
are you doing out here? Don’t you know
you could get hurt out here?”
“Come
to take my bath. It’s safer at night,
here.” Though her voice remained timid,
she made no move to leave, her expression somewhat blank. It was then that JD remembered he was
completely naked. Blushing furiously,
he submerged his body up to his neck, and tried to smile.
“Listen,
uh, miss? I’m um, I’m sorry to have
invaded your little place like this, but, uh….”
“Oh,
that’s okay,” she smiled then, and casually dipped her toe into the pond. “You know, we don’t often get visitors
here. Most don’t come back to this
pond, except to get water from the spring.”
“Oh,
well, normally I wouldn’t have either but…”
“No,
no, it’s fine. Really. In fact…” she
stepped in then, letting the water dampen the bottom of her shift. “Would you…like some company?” Her voice had softened, losing its
frightened edge, and JD’s eyes widened.
He backed up slightly as she slipped all the way into the water, and
slipped off the shift.
“
It’s been awfully lonely, with just my mother,” she purred, swimming across to
him. JD just blinked, his eyes noticing
the flawlessness of her skin, and the reddish tinge to her lips. Big brown eyes watched him, waiting, a small
smile lighting them up.
“What’s
your name?” JD breathed, feeling his nervousness wash away as she looked at
him.
“Maddie,”
she replied. She looked him up and down
then, and slipped a little closer. “What’s yours?”
“J…John
Dunne,” he replied. “Um….”
“Would
you like to kiss me, John?” she asked, reaching a hand towards his face.
JD
nodded, “Yes.”
Her
smile broadened, and she moved so that she pressed up against him, causing him
to inhale sharply as his body reacted.
Wrapping long arms around his neck, she brushed her lips against his,
tickling them with her tongue. He
inhaled again, his lips parting involuntarily, and she took the opportunity to
press her lips harshly against his. He
closed his eyes, letting her lead him away from the pond edge as he wrapped his
own arms around her.
For
a brief second, he was only aware of how cold her lips were, and then they were
in the middle, water rippling around them.
A white light cut through the darkness, and he opened his eyes to find
the girl gone, his arms around a creature as black as the moon’s shadow. The creature gripped tighter as he tried to
let go, her eyes bright with need.
Suddenly, water filled his mouth, and his eyes widened with fear as he
began to choke. She pressed harder,
stealing his breath, her stolen body losing its solidity as her true nature
took over.
Terror
gripped him, and he fought her grip, but she was too strong. He was going to die! Pressing his hands against her shoulders, he
tried to push away, his legs flailing in the water below him.
As
his mind began to fog, he searched the landscape for something, anything, that
could help him – and was surprised to see that the earth seemed to be pulsing
with a different sort of light. The
creature’s white light fought it, but the earth was bigger, darker. He could feel it inside of him, warming him,
filling him with energy. All of a
sudden, he had the strength to push away, and he found himself flying backwards
in the water with the force of the movement.
Spitting out the water in his mouth, he screamed. As quickly as it had come, the energy was
gone, and he nearly collapsed as he grabbed for the pond edge.
She
screamed with him, her features twisted, her eyes invisible inside the
blackness and light that made up her form.
In seconds, she had hold of him again, choking him with her arms as he
tried to turn his face away.
“JD!”
Josiah burst onto the scene, staff in hand.
“Oh Gods,” he hissed, driving the oaken rod into the ground.
“JD!”
Buck repeated as he crashed onto the scene, the others close on his heels. The large captain skidded down the incline
to the pond edge, only to get thrown back about ten feet as a wave of water
slammed into his chest. Nathan, who had
been right behind him, got thrown to the side as Buck flew past him.
“Get
BACK!” the creature hissed. “He’s
mine. His power, his life, is mine!”
“What
is it?” Vin demanded. He had his
crossbow raised, but couldn’t get a clear image of the black creature as it
held onto a rapidly weakening JD. Chris
gripped his sword, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
“A
water sprite,” Josiah answered abruptly. “Hold on son!” he called just before
he closed his eyes. Gripping the staff
in his left hand, Josiah found the elemental energy that created the water, his
mind’s eyes imagining the energy flowing into him. Next to him, the top of the staff glowed with a pale blue light
as water magic filled it.
The
mage imagined a rift of water forming between the sprite and the young squire,
and a cage of water forming around the succubus. Angry screams hitting his ears told him that it was working, and
he risked opening his eyes. Panting
with exertion, he pushed the creature further away from JD with a thought, and
nodded.
“Chris,”
he croaked, “get the boy out of that water, now! I can’t hold her much longer…”
The
paladin skidded down the incline immediately and jumped fully clothed into the
water. Grabbing JD under his arms, he
pulled the boy back to the edge and pushed him up into a recovered Nathan’s
arms.
As
soon as both were out of the water, Josiah closed his eyes and tried to summon
water’s counterpoint….but he couldn’t find it.
He was shaking now, and opened his eyes. He couldn’t do it! The
creature would be loose, and he couldn’t find the fire to destroy it!
“Can
I shoot it?” Vin shouted. “I have a clear shot!”
“No,
no, it will only waste the arrow. It is
made of water, Vin. The bolt would go right through it,” Josiah replied, now
gripping the still glowing staff with both hands.
“Can
it leave the water?”
“Yes.
It can’t…” he had to take another breath, “It can’t go far from it, but it is
fast enough to catch one of us before we leave the circle of its power.” He breathed again, feeling his power
fading. He turned to look at the
others, “Did…did anyone bring a torch?” As he asked, Josiah already knew the
answer. They had all come running
blind.
“I’ll
get one!” Vin said, turning to run off.
“No,
no, too late…” Josiah’s hold weakened, and the water cage imprisoning the
creature collapsed slightly. It laughed, and started to push against it. In the
background, the mage could hear the sound of the others pulling their
swords…the others….Ezra. He looked over
at the thief, who responded by standing up a little straighter.
“Throw
a fire pellet at that thing!” Josiah boomed.
Ezra
jumped slightly, then nodded and flicked his right wrist, dropping a pellet
into his hand. “Where do you want it thrown?”
“Anywhere,
just hit that damn thing!”
Grinning,
Ezra popped the pellet with his thumbnail and threw the ball of flame at the
creature. Letting go with his right
hand, Josiah grabbed the fire with his mind, increasing its power, his right
hand lifting to build the flames higher.
Letting go of the water cage, he let the fire consume the creature, the
magic augmenting it preventing the pond from extinguishing it. Next to him, the light atop to the oak staff
abruptly began to burn a fierce red color, as fire magic replaced the water.
The
creature screamed again, this time in fear, as the flames burst around it. On the shore, the others watched with
absolute fascination as the creature writhed in the flames, clouds of vapor and
steam billowing up from its form.
And
then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.
No
one moved for a moment, as if frozen.
Then, abruptly, the light above the staff winked out, and time resumed
its forward course.
Ezra
ran to catch the mage as Josiah collapsed, and JD started to cough up water
just as Vin returned with the torch.
Buck groaned where he lay on the ground, his hand resting on his bruised
chest. Chris knelt down next to JD, watching
as the squire opened his eyes under Nathan’s healing hands.
“You
all right, kid?” the paladin asked.
“Please,
promise….no more baths,” the young squire mumbled weakly, “They don’t like me.”
____________________________________
JD snored
to one side of the camp, wrapped in two blankets. Buck sat next to him, frowning deeply as he watched the boy
sleep. Nathan sat next to Josiah,
offering the older man a drink, while the other three sat around them, waiting
for the mage to recover.
Bright
torches ringed the camp, more than were necessary, but no one was complaining.
Ezra was busy adding several more fire pellets to the sleeve lining of his
shirt, just in case. For all that he
changed his clothes often, he wore this shirt almost everyday because of all
the hidden pockets and tiny springs in the lining. It was a conjurer’s shirt – designed for stage magic, and it had
served him incredibly well over the years.
As they waited for Josiah to wake up fully, he pulled out a pouch from
his cloak to see how many fire pellets he had left.
“That
was good throw,” Vin said nonchalantly, watching him. Ezra looked up and smiled at the compliment. He closed the pouch and returned it to a
hidden pocket inside his cloak. Vin
raised an eyebrow, and smiled.
“How
many hidden pockets you got in there?” he asked, reaching for the cloak. Ezra knocked the hand away
good-naturedly.
“More
than you’ve got arrows, I wager,” the green-eyed man replied, narrowing his
eyes. “How many arrows do you have?”
“More
n’ you got pockets,” Vin countered. “Two crowns says so.”
Ezra’s
grin widened, and he pulled out a slip of parchment from some deceptive crease
in his cloak, along with two thin pieces of charcoal. He ripped the paper in half, and handed half to Vin along with a
piece of charcoal.
“Write
down how many arrows you got. I’ll
write down the number of pockets.”
Vin
pursed his lips, “how do I know you will tell the truth?” he asked.
Ezra
ducked his head, scratching a figure onto his piece of parchment. “You don’t.”
Vin
shook his head, then scribbled a number on his own paper. Then Ezra handed him his piece of
paper. Vin’s smile fell as he compared
the numbers.
“Aw
hell!” he spat, digging into the pouch at his belt for two crowns.
Ezra
laughed, “A word of advice, my friend.
You may shoot an arrow better than me, and scout the land better than I
ever will, but never, ever, bet against me.
When it comes to wagering – I never lose.”
Vin
grunted, and handed the coins over. “Is
that ‘cause you always cheat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well
sir,” Ezra dropped the coins inside of another pouch, again, hidden deep inside
his cloak, “I abhor gambling, and, as such, leave nothing to chance….” He grinned, and Vin laughed.
“A
sensible notion,” Josiah rumbled, batting away Nathan’s hands. Ezra and Vin immediately quieted, turning
their attention to the mage.
“You
alright, Josiah?” The healer asked. “You lost a lot of energy fighting that
thing. I’ve never seen you so worn
out.”
“I’m
fine,” Josiah replied, sitting up straighter.
He looked around at the others, than back at the Moor. “I’m just older Nathan.”
“I
always figured mages got stronger with age,” Vin said. Josiah turned deep blue
eyes to the scout and shook his head.
“Sadly,
no. We get weaker. Most mages, when
they get to my age, usually kill themselves because they can’t stand not being
able to draw on the elements as easily.”
He sighed, and looked at Ezra, then Chris. “I used to be able to draw on
more than one element at a time, and be able to find that element anywhere. If
I had been younger, I could have found fire without your help, perhaps deep in
the earth, or somewhere in the sky, but, today…tonight….I needed your
help.” He shook his head, his eyes
clouding over. “Physically, I’m almost
as strong as I was in my youth, but, age does something to a magic wielder’s
powers. They…just…fade.” He leaned back
against the boulder against which Nathan had propped him.
“It’s
all right, mage,” Chris said. “What you
have will be enough.”
Josiah
grinned, despite his despondency.
“Hannah really convinced you, didn’t she.”
“Yes,”
the paladin responded, “she did.”
Josiah nodded, his smile quieting until it was gone.
“Um,
I have a question,” Ezra said, wrapping his cloak around him a little
tighter. Josiah met his gaze, and
raised an eyebrow. The thief
grimaced. “What exactly was that thing
we fought?” He looked around at the
others, then back at the mage. “I consider myself a well-traveled man, mage,
but that was, well, new. I always
thought water sprites were a myth.”
Josiah
frowned, “They are not myth, merely rare.
Sprites, dryads, will-o-the-wisps, trolls, gremlins, harpies, and even
elves and dwarves, the most common of the fey, have been rarely seen in the
Kingdoms since the Empire died. Their existence is based entirely on blood
magic, like the Mandate, but it is wild and weak without a strong source to tap
into. While the Mandate reigned, it
kept the fey strong, feeding them, allowing them to prey on humans with relative
impunity. When Queen Rhea ended it, and
the Mandate faded, they essentially died with it because they didn’t know how
to survive on their own. Human
elemental magic was now the stronger force, and mages were hired to rid the
landscape of the more predatory fey.
Those that were more independent moved to live up in the Northern
Reaches, away from humans and the danger we represented. But, as the mandate returns, and they become
more powerful….” He shrugged.
“Is
their return part of the darkness Hannah saw?” Vin asked.
Josiah
nodded. “Not all of the fey are as
predatory as that water sprite, but most are.
They exist by stealing life from humans and animals, needing their blood
and energy to survive. Dwarves and
elves are more independent – they can survive by just eating animals, like any
human, and they’ve learned to draw energy from the rocks of the mountains, like
we mages can. Fact is, they don’t much
like their nastier kinfolk, considering them parasites, which is why we get
along with them. A sort of equilibrium
has been reached between them and us.
But the rest of the fey…” he shook his head. “JD was not the first to be
attacked. Up until now, they’ve tended
to avoid Four Corners for some reason, but more and more of my fellow mages
were sending me letters about attacks near villages throughout the peninsula,
especially in Danaeria. Some of my
oldest friends and students are dead because of fights with the fey.” He stopped and leaned back to look up at the
sky. “Soon, they’ll be everywhere,” he
sighed, closing his eyes.
“This
just keeps getting better and better,” Vin mocked. “Now, besides Farron’s army, we gotta keep watch for wee folk
with sharp teeth.”
“I might
be able to create some sort of magical ward on our camps when we stop at night,
but not right now. I’ll think about
what I can do tomorrow,” Josiah yawned, and slinked down to get into a more
comfortable position. Nathan smiled,
and touched Josiah lightly with a healing touch to help him sleep better.
“We’ll
put two men on watch at a time,” Chris ordered quietly. “It’s going to be a
long night.”
__________________________________
The
next few days passed relatively quietly, with JD and Josiah regaining their
health rapidly under Nathan’s care.
Unfortunately, while the near death incident seemed to have galvanized
the former stableboy into becoming even more excited about the quest, Josiah
had withdrawn more and more into himself.
The
mage spent much of his time on horseback searching for sources of elemental
energy in the landscape, promising himself he would never to be caught unawares
again. He had been so cocky in his youth -- proud of defying his father to
follow his dream, proud of the fact that he was able to control the elements
better than any of his fellow mages his age, proud of his ability to find a
source of elemental magic in almost anything around him.
So
very Proud…
And
so very long ago.
He
was once able to control all four major elements with his staff as focus,
usually able to manipulate two at a time with relative ease without losing his
hold over the others. Now he could
barely control one without collapsing from exhaustion. Pathetic.
Gritting
his teeth, he closed his eyes and looked for the pulsing energy that marked
each element: red for fire, blue for water, white for air, and brown for
earth. If he looked deeper, he could
see some the other two elements – green for life and black for death/renewal --
not that he could use them. They were too primeval and outside the grasp of
anyone except the Gods. Vaguely, he was
also aware of yellow and orange dots pulsing around him, indicating the
presence of blood – animals, people and other creatures – though the pure
yellow suggesting a source of blood magic was rare, and often hidden from his
eyes. All people, except those he rode
with, had yellow or orange auras, which was the energy on which Nathan drew for
his healing. Josiah had never learned
to tap into the energy, healing being a sort of very weak blood magic. Only
healers learned that trick, and only because they, somewhere in their past,
must have a Fey relative. Vaguely, he
wondered if Nathan was aware of that fact.
The man’s height, which was taller than everyone else in the group,
suggested an Elvin ancestor – those creatures being very tall.
Darn
it, he was distracting himself again.
Work! Josiah, Work!
Gritting
his teeth, he searched for the earth element, annoyed that, despite being
surrounded by dirt, he couldn’t see the energy that moved it. He searched deeper with his mind, seeing a
flash of red and a flash of blue, but unable to find a node of brown.
“DAMN
IT!”
Nathan’s
horse jumped, and the healer had to calm her by pulling her to a stop. He looked at the man riding next to him,
while the five men in front also pulled their horses to a stop.
“Josiah?”
Nathan had been worried about his old friend, seeing the listlessness since Hannah’s
passing growing everyday in the slump of the shoulders. His weakness when helping JD had also not
helped. “Josiah, you alright?”
The
mage frowned, and nodded. “Just tired.”
“Well,
if you got some sleep at night instead of forever meditating, you’d probably be
less so,” the healer replied peevishly.
“Everything
all right?” Chris called from the front of the line.
“Yes!
I apologize, Sir Larabee, continue on!” the mage returned.
Nathan
looked at Josiah, still frowning, but when the mage respurred his horse, the
healer did also.
“You
want to talk, Josiah? Tell me about
this?”
“Nothing
to talk about, Nathan.”
“Oh…right.
You yell ‘damn it’ out loud for no reason, and you have nothing to talk
about. Fabulous. Well, fine, you want
to ride in misery, be my guest!” Nathan
kneed his horse, making the skittish mare jump a little before cantering
forward. After a moment, he was level
with Ezra, who watched him with interest.
“Master
Jackson, has our erstwhile master mage finally pushed you away?”
Nathan
sent a smoldering look at the thief, “He is not an ‘erstwhile’ mage,
Standish. He saved JD’s life, if you
haven’t forgotten.”
“Oh,
my apologies. I only meant erstwhile in the sense that he is no longer a
master. I understand he had quite a
reputation once.”
Nathan
was about to start arguing again when his mind actually registered the odd
statement. “How would you know he had a
reputation?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“I
have traveled a great deal, Master Jackson.
I remember once being sent with my lord the prince to stay at the summer
palace of Queen Kinya, back when I was ten or so. We were to receive instruction there on come of the southern
Cathacun martial arts. While I was
there, The Queen’s daughter, Princess Allisandra, managed to get herself
trapped down a sinkhole in the caves on the coast….” His lips twisted into an
odd smile, and Nathan frowned. Seeing
the expression, Ezra dropped the smile and continued on, “In any case, because
of the speed of the tide and the difficulty of reaching the cave other than by
the cave entrance, the only option was to find a mage. Master Mage Josiah Sanchez was the one
called.” He stopped, his thoughts
drifting to imagine the scene in his mind’s eye.
Nathan’s
eyes widened slightly, interested despite himself. When he met Josiah for the first time about twelve years ago,
when the mage turned 40, he was no longer going by the name Master Mage.
Already, his powers were weaker than the men eight years his junior and, though
still formidable, could no longer honestly use the title. But Josiah seemed not to mind too much then,
accepting it as part of the Gods’ plan.
In fact, this quest was the first time he’d ever really seen Josiah seem
honestly pained by his weakening state.
“So
what happened?” the healer asked, leaning forward on the saddlehorn.
Ezra
shook his head, his eyes far away. “A
feat of magical prowess the like of which I’ve never seen again, Master
Jackson. I saw him drive that oak staff
of his into the cliff edge above the cave, then stretch his arms out before him
in a parting gesture. Atop the staff, I
saw lights appear and swirl, fighting each other with an amazing intensity. Blue, brown, and white all pulsing within a
globe of energy. Then, with a roar, he
drove the ocean back from the cave, leaving it almost dry. He yelled for the Princess to come out, to
come to the front of the cave. When she
did, she was shaking like a leaf. Then
the brown light seemed to pulse even more vividly among the others atop the
staff, and the whole earth rumbled.
Allisandra shrieked as the earth rose up around her, cupping her in a
bowl of sand that rose up from the beach to drop her off on the cliff edge. As soon as she was on solid ground, and back
in the arms of her father, the sand fell away, and the ocean blasted back into
the cave, rocking the earth one more time before it stilled. After that, I’m not sure what happened,
though I know some healers had to help mage Sanchez from the scene. But I will always remember that day. I wished I’d had that kind of power, even
for only a moment. Oh, what I would do
with it…..” he trailed off, his eyes still focused on some distant point,
though they were narrowed slightly in an expression of darkness Nathan had never
seen before. The healer shivered
slightly.
“Well,
it sounds like an amazing story,” the Moor noted weakly.
“Yes.
But, seeing him again…he is obviously not the same man, Master Jackson. This one has not the power of the
other. An erstwhile mage, indeed, and
not of much use otherwise, except perhaps as comic relief. Truly, a pathetic creature….” He spoke coldly, and Nathan’s face darkened
to a nasty glower with each disparaging word.
“He
is more than a mere mage, Lord Standish.
He has had many hard times since those, I suppose you would call them,
his glory days. He has suffered and
persevered, and I will not let you mock him for that. The man whom Josiah Sanchez is today is stronger and purer than
anyone I have ever met, a hero in every sense of the word. Besides still being
a formidable magician, he easily outclasses you, thief, with far more to offer
than the just the ability to pick a lock.”
“Well
then, perhaps you should go back and remind him of that, as you clearly have no
use for my opinion,” Ezra snapped.
Nathan
grunted, “I think I’ll do just that, no thanks to you, my erstwhile
Lord.” The healer nodded curtly and steered his horse around, planning to
return to the side of his friend. Ezra
watched him go, and saw him move to ride once more abreast of the mage, about
twenty feet back.
The
thief allowed himself a smile as he returned his gaze to the front. That Nathan was much too easy to
manipulate. He hoped the healer would
do as he said, and do the mage some good now.
As far as Ezra was concerned, Josiah had been pretty damn impressive
when he’d saved JD, fighting a fey creature in its own element. By the Gods, that had to take tremendous
power, much more than your usual parlour tricks. You rarely saw true magic anymore these days, there being so few
mages left in the world. He was telling
the truth when he said he hadn’t witnessed such high magic since he was a
child. Of course, the rest of his story
had been completely made up. His face
twisted into a crooked expression….he hoped Nathan wouldn’t repeat that little
fable to the mage.
________________________________
That
night, the mood seemed considerably lighter as they made camp. Josiah set up his wards, manipulating air to
create invisible walls around the camp that would allow any of the seven men to
leave and return, but nothing else. He
discovered that it was getting easier to do each time, and he wondered if he
simply needed more actual practice, as opposed to merely thinking about the
need to practice. Of course, he’s
always been able to manipulate air magic better than any other. Air magic – white magic. Josiah’s face brightened as something rather
obvious suddenly occurred to him. His color, according to Hannah, had been
white. Finished with the wards, he stood
facing the trees, his mind tripping over the possibilities.
Vin
sat back on a rock, staring up at the sky, listening to the others around
him. To one side, he could hear Nathan
and Ezra sparring, with JD and Buck watching.
Both JD and Ezra had improved under the healer’s surprisingly expert
tutelage, although JD was the real star.
He took to the lessons like a bird to the air, faltering only
occasionally, but otherwise looking as if he’d be ready to fly with the eagles
in no time. Nathan said he wanted Ezra and JD to spar together soon, since JD
was almost getting good enough to have an actually fight with the thief. Ezra had grinned quietly at the statement,
not denying it. Ezra knew full well
he’d never be as good with the rapier as he was with shorter weapons. He’d been brought up to fight close
quarters, and to fight dirty. The
rapier was too much of a distance and gentleman’s weapon for him.
Now,
the dagger on the other hand….
Chris
stood off to one side, listening to the lesson with only half an ear. He was thinking about the fact that they
were nearing some towns.
They’d
descended out of the pass two days earlier, finally reaching the gentle rolling
hills that marked northern Tilluria. As
planned, they had swung to the east, following the dirt road only until they
hit the Assabet river, then traveling cross country to avoid Farron’s
patrols. But their supplies were
running low, and Vin had mentioned knowing a little about the towns in this
border country, in case they needed a break.
Gritting his teeth, the paladin decided the risk was worth it. He turned to look over at the scout and
smiled, pleased to see the wistful expression on the younger man’s face as he
looked up at the stars. It only took a
few long strides for him to reach the other man and sit down upon the rock at
Vin’s head.
Vin
looked up, “Hey soldier.”
Chris
smiled, “Vin.”
“Something
on your mind?”
“Thinking
about heading for a town. Getting
supplies. Maybe even chancing spending
the night at a tavern. You know…whiskey,
a room, a bed…more whiskey.” He
grinned, arching an eyebrow at the scout.
Vin
laughed, “Yeah, I can understand that.
Where you thinking on heading?”
“Well,
you said you knew this area…” the paladin trailed off, watching Vin
expectantly. The scout pursed his lips,
placing his hands behind his head in a lazy gesture.
“I
do know the towns here,” Vin nodded. “I
grew up about a league from here, town called Tascosa. It was pretty once, though it got pretty
burnt out by the war. Literally.”
“It’s
empty?”
“No,
no, just hurting. Lot of people moved
out, but, now that the war has moved South and Farron pretty much taken control
up here, they’re moving back. Trying to
rebuild. Don’t know how much they got
in terms of supplies to give us, but I’m betting they’d like to see some of the
money we got.” He smiled, remembering
the tavern owner, Master Stuart James.
He was an old curmudgeon, tending to the greedy side, but not a bad
sort. He’d been told by a friend who came to join the army recently that James
had tried to convince Farron’s men not to hurt the townsfolk, promising free
drink and lodging if no one was hurt.
Vin’s smile fell as he remembered that Farron’s men had responded by
breaking James’s leg and torching the town. Still, James was still alive…and
maybe he’d help them. He looked up at
Chris, and saw that the quiet man was still watching him.
“We
can go there, I’m pretty sure they’ll help us.
Besides, it isn’t as if Farron knows who we are. So long as we don’t draw attention to
ourselves, I’m betting we can get that whiskey without too much of a fight.”
Chris
nodded slowly. “So…,” he grinned
wolfishly, “what are the women like in Tascosa?”
Vin
returned the look, “Don’t come much livelier.”
“Sounds
like a plan,” the black-clad paladin stood and straightened his shoulder. He looked over to see Nathan chastising Ezra
about something. The thief was
listening, but he didn’t look happy.
“You
wondering why Ezra’s still with us?” Vin asked, following the gaze.
“Some. I keep expecting him to just disappear one
night when we’re not looking. Considering his pastime, I doubt it would be very
hard.”
“I
think Nathan has something to do with it,” Vin replied, stretching back again
on the rock to watch the stars.
Chris
turned a puzzled stare at the scout, “How so?”
“I
don’t know. ‘Cause he’s teaching him
something? I get the feeling Ezra
thrives on learning as much as possible from people, before he leaves them. Maybe, when Nathan has no more to teach,
he’ll leave.”
Chris
pondered this for a while, then shrugged.
“Whatever the reason, so long as he stays…” he trailed off. “I just wish I knew what the hell we were
getting into, and why it is that we are the ones to bring it to pass. I mean, even if we manage to save the Queen,
we still have to deal with Farron.”
Vin
didn’t answer, just kept watching the stars.
A rustle behind them had both turning to see Josiah step out from the
foliage, his white robes still spotless despite the fact that they trailed in
the dirt. No one had said anything, but
they were all sort of impressed by that fact.
Somehow, the older mage must have some sort of magic keeping them clean. Josiah grinned at them.
“Ave
brothers,” he said lightly. “I couldn’t help but overhear that last part, and I
may have an idea. At least, I think I
can give us a starting point as to why the seven of us are the key to stopping
the mandate, and how we might go about learning how…”
He
moved to sit on the rock that Chris had vacated, cracking the joints in his
arms as he stretched them out before him.
Vin shifted away so as to see him better, and Chris crossed his arm
where he stood. Josiah smiled again.
“Now,
we know that, somehow, Queen Rhea found a way to break up the mandate, and
almost render it impotent as a force, correct?
Well, what if that power were to be split up seven ways this time, among
people who are not of the blood and who have no family to speak of? That would
certainly break up the mandate’s hold, perhaps even more effectively than Rhea
did.” He paused, registering their
reactions. Neither man was forthcoming,
suggesting that they had both already figured that part out. Josiah sighed.
“Well,
secondly, I’ve been thinking on the colors that my sister assigned to each of
us. It didn’t really occur to me until
I started searching again for sources of magic that we each represent an
element. Well, all except the thief,
whom, as my sister put it, has no color.
That I don’t understand. But,
regardless, there has to be a reason for why we each blaze an elemental
color. Perhaps the idea is for us to
split up the mandate and return it to the elements from which it was
formed. If, of course, that is where
the magic was formed….” He frowned, showing that he wasn’t entirely sure of
this logic. “Or, perhaps we may be able
to tie the mandate to the elements to prevent it from ever being reborn
again.” He shrugged.
Chris
furrowed his brow. “Sounds plausible,
mage. However, why that may explain the
purpose of their being seven of us…”
“Well,
six. There are only six elements,”
Josiah interrupted. Chris’s brow
furrowed even deeper. Vin opened his
mouth to ask something, but Chris beat him to it, wanting to finish his
statement.
“Fine,
then, while that may explain the purpose of their being six of us, that
does not help me to figure out how we are supposed to do what you say. You say I represent an element, but I do not
feel that power, nor can I see it.”
“Oh,
well….”
“Are
you sure there are only six elements?” Vin jumped in. Josiah looked at him, surprised.
“Yes,
of course, only six.”
“So,
there are only six colors of energy sources out there for magic?”
“Well,
no, technically there is also yellow, but that is not an element.”
“Not
an element?”
“No,
it represents blood. Blood magic will
burn yellow. Nathan uses blood magic
when he heals. The Mandate burns yellow.”
Josiah shivered slightly, remembering the yellow fireball that Farron
had thrown at Hannah. Quickly, he
erased the memory—he couldn’t think about that now.
“And
Ezra’s not yellow.”
“No.”
“Then
what color is he?”
“I
already told you, he doesn’t have a color.”
“Hannah
called him child of light,” Vin suggested.
“Well,
there you go. Light has no color. It is all colors, or none, depending on how
you look at it.”
“All
colors?”
“Or
none,” Josiah shook his head. “Listen,
Vin, I don’t understand why he has that aura, he just does. Perhaps someday we’ll know why.”
“AHEM,”
Chris glared at them, “while this discussion may be interesting for the two of
you, I think it has to be tabled at the moment. Now, Josiah, you were saying about how we might learn to
defeat the power Farron has?”
“Ah,
yes,” Josiah nodded. “Now, we assume that Queen Rhea must have learned how to
break up the mandate from somewhere, yes? Or perhaps, she figured out how on
her own, but she had to get the idea from somewhere. My suggestion, then, is that we travel to her city and get
ourselves into the Rhean Castle Library.
I know for a fact that Farron did not, as he did with Adenn Castle, burn
the Rhean Castle down, as he plans to make that his home. The library, then, should still be
intact. I’m hoping that, somewhere
hidden deep in the archives, there may be a book or a diary or some source of
information that we can use.”
Chris
nodded, “Sounds…right,” he said. “How
do we get in?”
Josiah
smiled, “Well, Nathan and I are both allowed in as scholars, and I’m sure Ezra
can find a way to sneak the rest of you in.
That is what he does, after all.”
Chris
glanced once more over to the sparring group, watching as Nathan once more
defended himself against Ezra, explaining as they went along both what Ezra was
doing wrong offensively and what Nathan was doing defensively. The thief seemed very intent on repairing
his mistakes. Chris didn’t think it
would take much longer for Ezra to finish learning what he could from the
healer.
“It’s
a good idea, Josiah. So long as we stay
together….”
____________________________________________________
“Sir
Larabee!”
Chris
turned around, patting Solon’s neck as he slowed him down. Ezra rode up, a huge smile on his face. Vin leaned over his saddlehorn to better see
the thief as he brought his chestnut stallion up alongside the huge black
warhorse. Neither knight nor thief
noticed as the chestnut nipped at Solon when the black ran into him. The black bared his teeth in response, and
the chestnut shook his head as if laughing at the show of force. Vin chuckled a little at the exchange –
horses did tend to reflect their masters personalities. What did Ezra call his horse? Chaucer?
Meanwhile,
Chris had reined Solon in so as to better converse with the younger man. “Yes
Ezra?”
“Sir
Larabee, as I understand it, we plan to reach a town today – Tascosa, is it?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful.
If you don’t mind, sir paladin, I believe I’ll ride on ahead and reconnoiter.”
Chris’s
eyes narrowed. “Reconnoiter?”
“A
reconnaissance mission, if you will. A
look around the town to ensure there are no surprises awaiting us, that sort of
thing.” He smiled brilliantly, and a
gold tooth flashed on his teeth. Funny,
Chris thought, I never noticed the tooth before now. Of course, this might
possibly be the first time he’d seen Ezra grin quite that broadly….It made him
instantly suspicious.
“I
think you should stay with us, Ezra.
Vin knows this town already. It
is doubtful there is any trouble waiting for us there.”
The
thief looked around Chris to Vin, and smiled again. This smile, though, was a bit more genuine. For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom,
Ezra found that he truly liked the scout, perhaps because they were of similar
age, though more likely because, over the last week, they’d discovered that
they had a similar sense of humor. Vin grinned back.
“Well,”
Ezra said, turning back to Chris, “I suppose I don’t really need your
permission.” He smiled, and Chris narrowed his eyes. “After all, I’m not entirely sure who made you leader of this rag
tag group in any case. Strange that I
should even really think I needed to ask, don’t you think?” The smile broadened as he watched Chris
frown more deeply. “So, I’ll see you in
town then, but don’t wait up!” He offered Chris an odd two-fingered salute,
then spurred his horse off in a quick canter.
“Hey! Where is he going!” Buck yelled, cantering
up to join the two in front. JD sped up
as well, but trailed the three horses, listening without being involved. Buck stared at Chris, “I thought we were
staying together,” he growled.
Chris’s
jaw tensed, “What do you expect me to do Buck? I can’t force him to stay.”
“The
hell you can’t. We could have tied him
up, or something,” a brief smile crossed the captain’s face as he considered
the idea. “After all, the man is a
thief. We could have arrested him, or
something.”
Vin
shook his head, “Arrested him, Captain? On whose authority?” He chuckled as Buck glared at him. Then the
Captain looked back at his oldest friend.
“Chris,
we are supposed to stay together.”
Chris
shrugged, “He didn’t necessarily say he was leaving, Buck. He said he was going to meet us in town.”
“Ha,”
Buck snorted. “If we see him again, I’ll be the first to kowtow before him.”
Vin’s
eyes narrowed, a glint coming to one eye. “Want to make a bet on that,
Captain?”
Buck
looked around Chris to the scout, “You know something I don’t, pup?”
“Oh
no,” Vin replied, ignoring the pup remark, “I just think you underestimate
him.”
“That’s
‘cause you like him,” Buck snapped.
“I’ll have you know, you’re the only one.”
“Josiah
likes him too,” Vin replied. “Besides, you didn’t reply to my question. Want to bet on whether he returns?”
Buck
looked at Vin, seeing some of the thief’s canniness reflected in those azure
eyes, then he look at Chris, but the paladin was stone-faced. Finally, Buck nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take that
bet. If I’m wrong, I’ll kowtow before
him. And if you’re wrong?”
“I’ll
kowtow before you,” Vin said easily.
“Plus, I’ll bet two crowns to sweeten the pot.”
Buck
grinned, and reached over Chris to shake Vin’s hand. The paladin suffered the indignity with a snarl.
“He’d
better come back,” the black-clad knight said abruptly, bringing the other’s
eyes to his. “Because if he doesn’t,
I’ll find him and wring that scrawny neck.”
_____________________________
A
couple of hours later, they rolled into town, Vin’s expression darkening as he
took in the still blackened timbers and burnt out remains of some of the
structures in town. His eyes glazed
over one in particular – the home where he had grown up. The only consolation he had was that no one
was living in that house when it was destroyed. It had simply been a dream of Vin’s to once return to the house
of his family line – the Tanners. It
had stood for generations. Now Vin was
the last. He looked away, unable to think
about the idea that he had failed his family somehow, that he had failed his
mother.
“You’re
a Tanner, boy, and don’t you forget it,” she had told him on her death
bed. He was only five at the time, but
he had taken those words to heart. If it hadn’t been for Farron, he might have
moved home by now and found someone to spend his life with, to help carry on
the name….So much for dreams. He truly
did not expect to finish to see the end of this war.
The
townspeople, what there were of them, all stopped to watch them as they
entered, a mixture of hostility and curiosity on their faces. The other five men looked around them with a
placid air, though Chris was looking in particular for a pair of green eyes. If
that man had turned thief on them, Chris would kill him. He glanced over at the scout, noting the
familiar downcast expression of a lost soul.
He backed off a bit, allowing Vin some space to work through his
thoughts. After a few yards, Vin looked
up, the determined look back on his face, and started checking for familiar
faces.
“TANNER!”
Vin
looked to his right, and a crooked smile crossed his face. “Lucas James,” he growled, pulling
Winchester to a halt. Lucas was Vin’s
age, and had been a real bully as a child.
Seeing the way he had about six or so toughs standing behind him, it
looked like things hadn’t changed much.
Lucas sneered.
“What
are you doing here, Tanner? I thought you’d be put protecting that witch of a
Queen.”
Vin’s
eyebrows shot up, “Witch of a Queen, Lucas?
How dare you speak that way of your rightful monarch!”
Lucas
snorted, “Don’t make me laugh Tanner. She’s done nothing but bring us misery by
prolonging this war. Everyone knows
Farron’s going to win; she should have surrendered to him long ago. Maybe then we could begin to recover some of
what we lost.” He waved a hand around
at the town as he strode up to Vin’s horse.
Winchester snorted and pawed the ground. Vin patted his neck to calm him.
“Winchester
doesn’t like you much, Lucas. Doesn’t
look like much has changed.”
Lucas
laughed mockingly, then tried to stare down the rest of Tanner’s friends. They
glared back, and Lucas actually took a step back in surprise, unable to meet
the power he saw there. When he looked
back, he seemed a little less sure of himself.
“So, what are you doing here, Tanner?”
“Just
stopping the night, Lucas. Thought we
could stay at your uncle’s.”
Lucas’s
eyes narrowed. “Don’t know if he’ll put
you up, Tanner. He don’t like getting involved
in trouble…and you boys look like trouble.”
“We
just want beds and whiskey, Lucas. We
have the cash.”
Lucas
watched him for a moment longer, as if unsure.
“Lucas!”
A gruff voice called, “Let them be.”
Vin looked past Lucas, and his face lost a bit of its darkness as he
watched Stuart James limp towards them. At first glance, it looked as if the
old man hadn’t changed too much, well, except for the cane and the limp. The same shock of white hair capped his pale
face, and sharp blue eyes stared out over a hawk like nose. As he got closer,
however, the scout realized that frown lines had become embedded in the man’s
face around his eyes and lips. That was
new, Vin thought sourly.
“Hey
Master James,” Vin said.
“Vin,”
Stuart James replied. “What do you want
here, boy?”
“Just
a place to spend the night.”
Stuart
watched him for a moment, as if considering this. His face was expressionless, almost as cool as Ezra when he was
laying a bet. Vin’s brow furrowed. The Stuart James he remembered always had a
ready smile….This was not the same man.
He looked as burnt out as the town around him. Trying to hide the sudden sadness he felt, Vin looked away, and
found himself looking into Chris’s eyes.
The paladin was watching him with some concern. Stuart James looked over at his nephew, who
had crossed his arms, an expression almost akin to a dare on the young man’s
face.
Finally,
Stuart bowed his head. “All right,
Vin. You and your…friends can stay the
night. But I want you gone come
morning, alright? I don’t want
trouble.”
“No
trouble, Master James,” Chris replied. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“I
think he means hostility,” Buck whispered to JD. The kid hid a grin.
“Follow
me then, gentlemen,” Stuart said, limping away. Vin looked at the others, then dismounted, planning on leading
Winchester on foot. Unbidden, the
others imitated the move. As they
walked down the half stone, half dirt road between the wood and dirt buildings,
the small crowd parted before them like a sea.
After a while, they were all gone, back to their various daily
activities.
The
tavern, when they approached it, looked pretty impressive. It was still completely intact, and quite
large. Black timbers highlighted the white painted mud walls of the two story
structure beneath a black, thatched roof.
Smoke curled out through a hole in the top. Vin smiled again, happy to see one thing in his home that still
looked the same.
Stuart
stopped and pointed to a stable on the side.
“You can put your beasts in there. You boys needing dinner?”
“Yes,
please, Master James. And we’ll be
needing to buy supplies…is Bucklin still around?”
“Yes. Watson’s still around too. They’ll get what you need. Hope you boys like mutton for dinner, that’s
all we got these days.”
“Mutton
sounds wonderful, Master James,” Josiah rumbled. Stuart looked over at him, the cool expression still on his
face. He nodded.
“Then
I’ll see you all inside,” he stated, moving to head inside.
“Friendly
guy,” Buck said sarcatically, coming up alongside the scout. Vin looked at him, his eyes bright.
“Didn’t
used to be like that, Buck, not at all,” he said quietly. “He used to be the
most gregarious man in town. Everyone
looked up to him, sort of like our unofficial Mayor.”
Buck
twisted his mouth in apology and reached a hand out for Winchester’s
reins. “Why don’t you let me and JD
stable the horses while the rest of you go hunting for supplies. We’ll meet you inside.”
JD
stepped forward, reaching out for Solon’s reins. As Chris handed them over, the kid asked the question that was on
everyone’s mind but Vin’s at that moment.
“Where’s
Ezra?”
__________________________________
Night
fell quietly on the town, the moon rising to blanket the small burg with a
comforting light. Fog reached down out
of the hills to blanket the ground, muffling the sounds as people continued to
finish their business for the night.
Ezra
was nowhere to be seen.
Getting
the supplies had been easy and efficient.
None of them had bothered to look around the town, perhaps out of
deference for the silent Vin, and had returned to the tavern as quickly as
possible. Stuart James’s food had been
a welcome respite after a week of cooking and cleaning on their own, and the
whiskey and beer had been even nicer.
Now they all sat inside the nearly empty tavern, curled near the fire,
each feeling too introspective to take part in the banter that had marked them
since banding together.
Chris
sighed, looking into his empty glass, feeling a bit hollow inside. He’d failed, he realized, although he wasn’t
sure what else he could have done to keep the Danaerian with them. Threats hadn’t worked, nor had manipulation,
nor straight out honesty. For some
reason, he knew that this meant the quest would never succeed.
The
others were all feeling something similar, even JD. It was strange, but it really did feel as if something had gone
missing in each of them. They had all
only known each other a week, and yet, there was something there tying them
together. Ezra deserting them had hurt
them all.
The
click of cane on flagstones had them looking up, and Stuart James wandered into
the tavern. He gazed over them all,
then his eyes found Vin’s.
“I’m
sorry, Vin,” he said quietly.
Vin
frowned, his mind a bit fuzzy from having consumed a little too much alcohol
this night. “Sorry about what?” he
replied.
James
shook his head, not responding.
Instead, he walked over to the door and opened it.
Thirty
of Farron’s men augmented by Lucas James and his six toughs filled the room
with a clatter, bringing Chris, Vin and the others to their feet
instantly. But they were too slow –
they didn’t even have time to draw before they found swords at their throats.
“Vin
Tanner!” one of Farron’s men called, a man in a sergeant’s uniform, “You are
hereby under arrest, per order of his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Farron!”
Vin’s
eyes widened, “What?”
“You
heard me, spy! We know all about you and your group. You are under arrest, and
trial will be held at dawn. If found guilty, you will be hanged as spies!”
Vin
just blinked in confusion, while Buck growled at the men holding him. Josiah had backed up slightly, trying to
give himself some room and reach the oak staff he had propped up against the
wall, but the guards followed him, stopping him. Vin looked at James, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes.
“What
have you done?” he demanded.
Stuart
James kept his head down, but his expression was still the same cold one as
before. “I sorry Vin, but 500 Crowns is
a lot of money. It will do the people
of this town a great service.”
“500
Crowns?” Vin said. “What 500 Crowns?”
“That’s
the bounty on your head, boy,” Farron’s man replied. Lucas laughed, wandering up to pat his uncle on the back. James ignored him. Vin’s mouth fell open, too surprised to speak. Bounty? What bounty?
“What
say we just kill them now, sergeant Joe?” Lucas called, looking over at
Farron’s man. Sergeant Eli Joe smiled
wickedly.
“I
have no problem with that. Sure will
save us having to get up early.”
Stuart
James raised his head, an emotion crossing his face for the first time that
day. “I don’t want blood in my tavern,”
he said angrily. “You promised me they would get a fair trial. I don’t cotton having the blood of innocent men
on my hands.”
“They’re
not innocent, uncle,” Lucas sneered, looking at Vin. “You can tell just by
looking at ‘em. That one there,” he
pointed at Chris, who returned the stare impassively, “he looks particularly
evil to me.”
Sergeant
Joe stepped forward to look Chris over, “Yes.
Exactly what is your name, soldier?”
Chris’s
eyes narrowed, and a slow smile crossed his face. Eli Joe’s own smile faltered, and he backed off slightly.
“Kill
them,” the sergeant ordered.
“GENTLEMEN!”
A voice yelled from the rafters.
Everyone looked up.
Ezra
Standish was standing on an exposed cross beam, one hand on the rope holding
the large chandelier over the main room.
Though the black mask covered his nose and mouth, it was obvious he was
smiling.
“May
I suggest you all step back a touch?”
He indicated the talon dagger in his hand, pressing it against the
chandelier’s thick rope. “I really
think this might be a bit heavy, especially when it falls!” With a grin, he cut the rope, causing
several yells as all hell broke loose.
The chandelier crashed to the ground, cutting down about four of
Farron’s men who hadn’t had time to dodge the massive iron circlet. Candles guttered and scattered across the
floor in a shower of sparks, setting a few of the unluckier men’s uniforms on
fire.
Chris
and the others responded immediately, pulling swords and daggers and fighting
the now completely distracted guards.
Josiah fought like a bear, pulling out his sickle from his belt, still
trying to get through the melee to his staff.
Ezra swung down off the rafter, using the now loose chandelier rope to
land him on top of the bar at the far end of the room. As four men rushed him, he flexed his left
wrist and popped a smoke pellet, instantly blanketing the guards in front of him
in a thick gray mist. Executing an
acrobatic leap off the bar to land behind them, he dispatched the blinded men
with ease.
Over
by the fireplace, Chris fought back to back with Vin, short swords flashing in
an eerily matching rhythm, as if they were feeding off each other. Buck fought by himself, a short sword in
each hand, wielding them both with a brutal efficiency. Nothing was getting past the anger fueling
him – it was as intense as a fire, and just as unstoppable.
JD
and Nathan both wielded their rapiers with vigorous proficiency, student and
teacher thrusting and parrying with different but equally effective
styles. While Nathan moved with a fluid
grace, JD blocked and cut with incredible speed, slicing through his opponents
with the relentlessness of an earthquake.
Ezra,
meanwhile, slid in and out of his opponent’s reaches with the dexterity of a
snake, changing weapons almost as often as he changed position, occasionally
favoring the sharp short sword and dagger, and sometimes wielding the trident
main gauche and the talon dagger. Being
ambidextrous, he could use both hands with equal savagery. His rule of fighting, it seemed, was merely
to be the only one still standing without a mark on him. There was nothing predictable about his style
– it simple was.
At
one point, Chris found himself face to face with Lucas James, the younger man
stopping short as he saw Chris leveling a sword in his direction. Without being asked, the bully dropped his
weapon to the ground and raised his hands up, then he took off running out of
the tavern, scared out of his wits.
In
the corner, as immovable as stone, Stuart James watched his nephew flee with
tired eyes, before returning a defeated gaze to the floor. Blankly, he noticed
the blood stains seeping into the flagstones, the smell of death filling his
nostrils, the screams of dying men searing his ears. They were things he’d seen far too much of in the last four
years. He just wished it would stop.
Finally,
Josiah reached the staff, and after wielding it as a weapon long enough to give
him some room, he swiftly called up air magic and simply shoved. Sharp wind blew like a tornado through the
tavern, picking up those of Farron’s men and Lucas’s toughs who were still
standing – not many as it turned out – and driving them into the wall. As a group, they slammed against the
unyielding structure, and fell into an unconscious heap.
The
others stopped, caught almost mid-movement, and straightened up with bemused
expressions. As one they looked at the knocked
out men against the wall, then over at Josiah.
The mage waved weakly in response, a foolish grin on his face. Buck started to laugh, the expression on the
mage’s face simply too absurd to ignore, and the others couldn’t help but join
in.
Chris’s
smile fell as he saw Stuart James still standing meekly in one corner, the old
man’s expression still as emotionless as the dead. The others quieted as the paladin walked over and pulled a pouch
from his belt. He dropped twenty gold
coins on the table next to James.
“For
your trouble,” the man in black said coldly, before swiftly exiting the
saloon. Vin followed quickly behind,
his expression of disappointment thick as he glanced at the old man. Stuart James lowered his head to stare at
his feet.
Outside,
the townsfolk who had gathered to watch the massacre backed off as the paladin
exited the brightly lit tavern. He
seemed as a ghost in their midst, and they all shuddered to realize that he
hadn’t a scratch on him despite having just fought off almost forty men. Silently, the rest of the Seven came out
behind him, to stand as one behind their leader. They almost appeared to glow in the bright moonlight.
The
townsfolk scattered.
“Nice
town you got here, Vin,” Buck remarked sardonically, looking around him at the
empty street with ice blue eyes, “but I’m thinking I’d rather spend this night
under the stars if you don’t mind.”
“A
most judicious decision, Captain Wilmington,” Ezra drawled. “I took the liberty of resaddling the horses
for you, in case we had to make a quick exit.
You’ll find all your things are there, including the weapons.”
The
others turned to look at him, their expressions a mixture of wonder, anger and
relief. In response, he simply stared back, as if returning was something he’d
planned all along.
Actually,
looking at them now, he fought to remember exactly why it was he had turned
back.
He’d
arrived in the town almost half an hour before the others, finding it to be
small and rather worthless. He was
about to go and buy himself some food and wait for the others when he saw the
poster on the central board in the town’s square. He immediately ripped it down and rolled it up, his mind racing
at the ramifications.
“Vin Tanner,
Wanted, Dead or Alive, 500 Crowns.
Rides with a gang of seven cutthroats and spies. For all seven, the reward is 1000 crowns.”
And
below it was a drawing of Vin, the likeness near perfect.
The
thief’s first thought had been to flee, which he promptly did. But for some reason, before he’d even made
it more than a few miles out of town, he found himself turning back. Turning back to face what he knew to be
almost impossible odds. His first glimpse had been to see almost forty men
sneaking up on the tavern, and once again, all he had wanted to do was
run. It was suicide to try and save the
men inside. Yet, instead of listening
to his head, he’d gone into the stable to quickly make sure the horses were
ready to leave. Then, as the forty men
stormed in through the doors, he’d snuck in through a high window to get onto
the rafters. He grinned inwardly at the
expressions of his companions as they looked at him now -- yes sir, he thought
to himself, can’t imagine what came over me.
Suddenly,
Chris grabbed his cape, drawing him close, and Ezra actually felt a prick of
nervousness run down his spine.
“Don’t
you ever run out on me again,” the paladin hissed, before letting go. He stepped back, his steel gray eyes
measuring every inch of the thief, daring him to respond.
Ezra’s
eyes widened slightly, understanding all to well what Chris wanted from him,
and what it meant. Thoughts raced through his mind, as self-preservation warred
with whatever it was that had turned him around. Several glib responses lit on his tongue…but he ignored
them. For all that he wanted to,
screamed at himself to, he finally realized he couldn’t fight destiny anymore
than he could fight the sun rising in the east. Instead, he simply lowered his head, eyes blinking slowly in
acceptance.
Yes
Sir, he said silently. Chris nodded,
and a slight smile touched his lips.
And
so it was that the Seven were permanently joined.
Moments
later, they rode out of the frightened, dying town of Tascosa, horses
scattering the clinging mists in great puffs and swirls of gray smoke. The moon
lit their way, a luminescent beacon in the night.
At
one point, Vin tapped Buck’s shoulder.
With a snarl, the Captain dug into his pouch and handed over two gold
coins.
___________________________________
Continued in Part Three