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Back to the previous chapter: Mines
Second Draft
The calming babble of the stream soothed the tired riders as they followed it through the forest towards Hillsdale. The sun had disappeared behind clouds on the western horizon ahead of the riders, its rays giving the sullen cloud a shimmering lining. The distant, cheerful twitters of birds in the trees overhead contrasted with the heavy silence of the party. Even the hoof steps of the horses seemed subdued, as if there were a concerted effort not to disturb the riders.
Rishala rode near the front of the column, mind lost in thought as his horse followed Sturm's massive warhorse. As he wondered about the odd dreams he had been having, he felt a strange tickling sensation in his head, as if there were something he was overlooking -- something important -- was screaming for attention.
The Caledonian story teller looked ahead, past Sturm and his horse, towards the hill ahead. It was the hill into which the stream disappeared before it emerged on the other side, about forty feet lower. But it was not the cave entrance that had caught his attention. It was the woman standing near the cave entrance.
Rishala tensed as he studied her. In a quiet voice that startled his horse, Rishala blurted, "Who's that?"
The rest of the party tensed as well. Sturm sat up straight, immediately scanning the forest around the party for additional people. Adria and Eric both reached for their longbows, each weapon secured on the rider's saddle. Kasey leaned forward to peer at the woman.
Riding next to Rishala, Breanna scrutinized the woman. "I don't know," she said. "Her dress is odd. I don't think I've seen one like that before." The dress was simple, and it looked like it was leather, not a woven cloth. "She is old." The woman's ancient face was far more wrinkled than the dress she wore. Breanna looked startled. "Is she glowing?"
Rishala squinted at the woman. There was a ghostly illumination surrounding her. "Yes, I see an aura..."
Breanna's grip on her reins tightened.
Rishala tapped into the Heka he could feel around him. He directed the flows of energy towards the woman, watching her aura flare as the tendrils of magick touched it. "She's not malevolent. Her aura is an almost pure white."
The woman turned and walked towards the cave entrance. She stopped once and looked back over her shoulders at the party, then strolled into the entrance of the cave. The black maw of the cave was unusually large -- tall enough that the woman did not have to stoop, and wide enough that there was a walkway on one side of the stream. She stopped once more in the entrance, her aura now easier to see with the dark cave behind it. She looked patiently at the party as the riders continued to approach. When the riders were closer to the cave, she turned and continued into it. Her aura disappeared in the dark cave.
As the party stopped about ten paces from the cave entrance, Rishala voiced the question most of them were wondering: "Now what?"
Sturm twisted in his saddle until he could look back at the rest of the party comfortably. "She kept looking over her shoulder," the knight observed. "Maybe we should follow her."
Rishala shook his head. "I'm not going into the cave. I don't like caves."
"That's fine," Sturm said as he dismounted his charger. "Someone needs to watch the horses."
The rest of the party dismounted and tied their horses to nearby trees. Rishala stayed close to his horse as the rest of the party approached the cave. Eric was carrying a lantern that he stopped to light before following Sturm into the dark entrance.
Bilbus followed Eric into the cave, with Breanna close behind him. The mountebank drew his dagger as he looked around at the pale light coming from Eric's lantern.
Breanna giggled, then poked Bilbus in the back. "Scared of ghosts, Bilbus?" Her voice quivered nervously.
Bilbus looked at the ephemeral glowing ahead of Sturm. The ghostly woman had stopped somewhere in the cave ahead of them, and she was waiting for the party to catch up once more. Bilbus snorted, then waved his free hand over the blade as he surged a small amount of Heka into the dagger. A soft phosphorescence emanated from the dagger blade, providing a soft glow. He held the blade close to the cave wall. "Look. This cave has been widened by hand. You can see the scrapes on the rock. They're really old, but they're there."
Breanna looked at the scrapes for a moment, then looked at Bilbus's glowing dagger. She drew her own dagger and mimicked the casting. Soon, her blade glowed as well. She held it towards the stream on the other side of the path, listening to the quiet roar of the water as it echoed throughout the cave.
The apparition disappeared into the wall. Sturm walked forward cautiously, with Eric close behind with the lantern. The Sun Knight announced, "There is a side passage," before he looked down the passage. He and Eric followed the passage, walking slowly.
Bilbus stopped at the new route. He held the glowing dagger close to the stone walls. Once more, he saw the scrapes of worked stone. "This tunnel is artificial, too. Or, at least, it's been carved larger," he concluded.
The thief glanced forward. The ghostly woman stood at a bend in the passage, looking back at the party as she waited. Sturm and Eric were approaching her. When they were just a couple of paces away, she walked away down the bend.
The apparition led the party into a widening of the passage. The ceiling vaulted to a height of five paces, and the passage widened to nearly seven paces. The rushing stream had faded to a distant whisper somewhere behind them.
The left side of the room had engravings on it, and some strange stone statuary jutted from the otherwise-flat wall. Some of the engravings were jagged lines, others were swirls, and others were stylized, curving waves. Four of the five protuberances were palm-sized stone rings, with the openings facing vertically. The fifth projection was a stone sphere of about the same size.
The ghostly woman kneeled in front of the first ring. She blew gently across the top of it. She stood, then walked to the next ring, a pace away along the wall. She kneeled once more, this time scooping a handful of dirt from the floor of the cave. She held the dirt over the second ring, then tipped her hand. The dirt fell through the second ring. At the third ring, the apparition kneeled once more. Below the third ring, at ground level, was a small reservoir filled with water. The woman cupped her hands and scooped some of the water from the reservoir. Water dripped from her hands as she lifted them over the ring and poured the water through the ring.
Bilbus chuckled as she stood to go to the fourth ring. "I get it. Fire's next, right? What's the fifth one?"
The woman stopped in mid-pace and looked at Bilbus. Her gaze was sharp, and it fixed Bilbus in place. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
At the last ring, the woman grabbed several dried twigs from the floor at her feet. The twigs burst into flame in her hands as she held them underneath the final ring. She lifted the twigs until they poked out of the top of the ring. The twigs were singed, but they did not burn or even smoke. She dropped the twigs and moved to the round projection. She cupped her hands around the stone, not touching it. As she held her hands still, Bilbus felt a surge of magick surround her.
"Heka?" he asked no one.
The apparition stood again and walked on down the passageway. It narrowed again, until it was as large as the tunnel that entered this room. The party followed her into the passageway. It opened immediately into a large, round, empty cave. In the center of the cave, the woman turned to face the party. She stared at them as she slowly disappeared, leaving no footprints in the dirt below her or any other signs that she had ever been there.
"Where do you think she went?" Eric asked.
Sturm strode to the middle of the room. He noticed something at his feet, so he kneeled in the dirt. "What's this?" he wondered aloud. He glanced towards Eric. "Bring the lantern over here."
Eric approached as the Sun Knight picked up several strips of vellum. Breanna approached as well.
"Where did these come from?" Eric asked as he inspected the strange glyphs on the strips. "I don't recognize the writing."
Breanna held her glowing dagger close to the writing as well. The characters were rounded boxes and curving strokes, very uniform in size. The vellum looked fresh, but the only marks in the dirt of the cave floor were those of Breanna and her companions. The healer was surprised to feel Sturm channel a small amount of Heka.
The Sun Knight grunted. "I can't understand the writing." He looked at Breanna. "Do you know any techniques for translation?"
Breanna concentrated on the writing as she coaxed some flows of Heka into the vellum. The characters on the vellum squiggled as she watched, refusing to shape themselves into anything she could comprehend. Focusing harder just made the writing squirm worse. Befuddled, Breanna released the magickal flows. The writing stopped moving, appearing as it did before she had attempted to read it. "No," she finally admitted. "It's like something is scrambling the writing. I don't understand why."
Sturm nodded. "That's what happened to me, too."
From the darkness near the cave entrance, Adria asked, "Where's Bilbus?"
Breanna rushed back to Adria, then noticed a faint glowing in the previous room, near the round stone projection. Bilbus's glowing dagger was lying on the ground beneath the ball as Bilbus cupped his hands around it.
The mountebank looked over at Breanna. "I tried channeling Heka into it. It doesn't work. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
Breanna looked at the other rings. "Did you try doing the other steps first?"
Bilbus picked up his dagger and straightened. "No. I was af... I thought something might actually happen." He smirked. "Nothing will happen."
"No?" Breanna asked as she arched her eyebrows.
"I'll show you," Bilbus said. He swaggered down to the first ring, then stooped to blow across the top of it.
As he took the two steps to the second ring, he grinned at Breanna. "Nothing yet."
He grabbed a handful of dirt and dumped it into the second ring. He stood quickly when he realized that the dirt vanished -- it entered the ring, but nothing came out of the bottom of it.
Breanna saw the mountebank jump. "Maybe something?" she asked.
"Maybe..." Bilbus replied uncertainly. "The dirt disappeared." He went to the next ring.
The water he dumped into the ring vanished. Bilbus was leaning over the top of it, looking in as the water fell into the ring. It appeared to fall through to the reservoir below the ring, but there was no splash of water, and the stone face of the cave was dry.
He walked to the last ring. He gathered some twigs from the dirt floor of the cave. He held them in a bunch as he drove a sharp concentration of Heka into the twigs. The dried wood flashed alight in a gratifying small whoosh. Bilbus held the twigs below the fourth ring, watching them smolder and flicker. He pushed the twigs up into the ring until he saw them just above the stone surface. The tips of the twigs were thoroughly scorched, but they did not burn, or even smoke. Bilbus stood up and touched the twigs. "Cold," he observed before he dropped them.
Bilbus stood in front of the round stone projection. He set the dagger on the floor next to his boot, then cupped his hands around the sphere. "Here goes nothing," he commented to Breanna.
Bilbus concentrated on driving Heka into the sphere. To his surprise, he felt the magickal flows being drawn into the orb, just enough of a draw to notice. Bilbus pulled his hands away from the sphere, then realized that a small leather pouch was in one hand. "What's this?" He stooped to pick up his glowing dagger as Breanna walked forward to look at the pouch.
Breanna delicately picked up the pouch. It was about a quarter the size of her palm, cinched on one end with a fine thread. A long leather thong was attached to that end, as well. Breanna put the pouch back in Bilbus's hand. "This is an elemental temple. It has to be." She glanced around at the carvings in the wall. "But it is a really old one. I don't think I have ever seen anything like it. You must have followed the rites for the temple, and the elemental gods granted you a boon."
"Okay, fine," Bilbus allowed. "But what did they give me? What does it do?" He looked suspiciously at the pouch.
"Well," Breanna said patiently. "That pouch is attached to a leather necklace. Why don't you loop it around your neck?"
Bilbus tied the two ends of the leather thong, then placed it around his neck. The pouch hung several inches below his throat. He lifted the pouch and looked at it. "I don't feel anything."
Breanna looked at the pouch for a moment, then glanced towards the other cave room. Eric was leading the rest of the party back into the altar room.
When Eric looked quizzically at Bilbus and Breanna, Breanna quickly said, "It's an elemental temple. Bilbus just did the same things as that ghost, and he got something."
Bilbus waggled the leather pouch, then sniffed it. "It smells spicy," he muttered under his breath.
Breanna walked over to the first of the rings and blew across it. She repeated the rest of the rites, ending with channeling Heka into the stone ball. When she finished, she, too, had a pouch in hand. As she approached Bilbus, she sniffed her pouch. There were a number of faint herbal smells, not distinct enough that she could identify any of them with certainty. She reached for Bilbus's leather pouch and sniffed it, as well. "Mine's different," she said.
Breanna walked quickly towards the cave entrance, passing Sturm just as the Sun Knight started repeating the rites.
Rishala was outside the cave entrance, holding a slender branch he had found on the ground. He tapped the branch against a sapling, creating an intricate percussive pattern as he glanced around. He stopped when he heard Breanna approaching.
"Rishala, there is an ancient temple inside." Rishala looked concerned. "It's an elemental temple," she added.
Rishala brightened. "Lass, can ye watch the horses for a moment?"
"Okay," she agreed. Before Rishala could rush into the dark cave entrance, Breanna added, "Take this dagger. It'll help you see in there."
Rishala was puzzled as he took the dagger. He looked at it for a moment before he noticed the soft bluish glow surrounding it. "Thank you," he said before he raced to the cave entrance.
Breanna meandered over to her horse, Star, and started idly scratching the horse's neck. The horse's mouth quivered in gratitude as Breanna found a particularly itchy spot on the horse's neck. Breanna kept scratching as she watched the cave entrance.
Several minutes later, she heard Bilbus before she saw anyone.
"Why didn't you do it, Adria?" he asked.
"I didn't want to. That's why," she snarled impatiently.
"The rest of us did. Rishala even ran into the temple so he could get one of the pouches."
Adria stopped at the entrance to the cave, turning back to face Bilbus and blocking his way. "I am not a worshipper of the elemental gods, Bilbus. Why should I be a hypocrite and do the rites of an elementalist to receive a boon meant for the elemental gods' followers?"
Bilbus shrugged dismissively. Adria sighed loudly, turned, and strode to her horse. She hastily untied the reins and climbed onto the saddle, then clucked as she directed her horse up the hill.
"What?" Bilbus said to her as he went to his own horse.
The rest of the party soon were following Adria towards Hillsdale.
The sun had dipped below the horizon before the party reached the empty smiths' shacks on the eastern end of Hillsdale. The riders passed the dark buildings, and the equally-dark smiths' guild house at the bank of the narrow river. They rode through the village to the far side and the Hillsdale Inn. After leaving their horses in the care of the stable hands, the party went into the common room of the inn.
Eric approached the innkeeper. "Excuse me. Where may I find some reliable men for couriers?"
The innkeeper rubbed his earlobe for a moment as he thought. "The carpenter usually has more apprentices than he has work. They're good lads."
"Where is the carpenter?"
The innkeeper nodded his head towards the east. "He's four doors down. He probably is working the lads still."
"Thank you," Eric said. He started to head for the front door of the inn.
"Eric," Sturm called after the explorer. "Wait. You said you are looking for couriers?"
"Yes." Eric nodded. "My father needs to know what is happening here."
"I'll go with you," the Sun Knight said. "There's a Keep in Plainsdale. The Knights of the Sun need to know about these orcs."
Eric waited for the Sun Knight, then the two proceeded to look for the carpenter's shop. It was several doors down the main road, on the south side like the inn. Above the open doorway, a weather-beaten rocking chair hung by a pair of rusted chains. The barks of a man's orders rolled out of the doorway.
Eric passed underneath the chair, into the shop. Across from the entrance burned a fireplace, casting its warm glow throughout the shop interior. Several lanterns overhead, with hammered steel reflectors, help illuminate the shop. A middle-aged man sat on a bench near the fireplace, flaring at several teenaged boys who were stooped on the floor, picking up wood shavings.
When the man saw Eric enter, he jumped to his feet. "M'Lord!" He quickly corrected himself when Sturm stepped in as well. "M'Lords! What may I do for you this fine evening?"
Eric took a step forward. "Good Master, I need some reliable men to carry a message for me. Are your apprentices for hire? They would be gone for possibly two weeks."
The carpenter looked at the young men on the floor. "These lads are as unreliable as they come. They can't even pick up a mess without me on their backs." He pondered for a moment. "But again, I don't have enough work for all of them right now."
Eric regarded the men. "I am sure they will do fine, Good Master."
Eric took his journal out of its travel pouch. He opened it to the back and carefully tore a sheet of paper from it. He opened a smaller pouch and produced a bottle of ink and a pen. He wrote a note on the paper, then let the ink dry. After dabbing the paper with a blotter, Eric carefully folded the paper. He took the paper over to the fireplace, then pulled out a small stick of wax. He held the wax close to the fireplace until it softened, then dribbled wax along the crease of the paper. Finally, Eric impressed his signet ring into the wax. Once it hardened, Eric handed the paper to one of the apprentices, all of whom had stopped to watch the exotic stranger.
As the teenager held the paper, looking at the seal in the wax, Eric fished several coins from his purse. He looked at the young man until the lad noticed his gaze. "I want you to carry this message to Lord Janus Ithell of Armagh." The young man's eyes widened. "Deliver it to him personally. It is from his son, Lord Eric Ithell. He will reward you well if this letter is unmolested. Do you understand?"
The boy nodded excitedly.
"You know how to get to Armagh?" Eric asked.
He paused for a moment, then nodded again.
"Good. Repeat my orders back to me."
The lad's voice quivered with excitement. "I am to deliver this message to Lord Janus Ithell ... of Armagh! I am to give it to him personally. It is from his son, Lord Eric Ithell. He will reward me if the letter is not molested."
"Good," Eric said. He counted out several coins and handed them to the young man. "Get going as soon as possible. Tonight, if you can."
The lad nodded enthusiastically, then ran for the back door of the shop. He stopped abruptly after three paces, turned back to Eric, and bowed stiffly in as courtly a gesture as he could manage. He smiled to his fellow apprentices, who all smiled incredulously, then turned once more to run from the shop.
As soon as the boy was gone, Eric prepared another note. He gave the note to another of the apprentices and repeated his orders.
The lad repeated the instructions, then added, "I understand your orders, my lord. But why do you give me the same orders?"
Eric smiled. "This is insurance. If something happens to one of you, I hope the other can make it through. By the way, you are not to travel with your friend."
The apprentice's eyes goggled, and he gulped loudly, but the smile on his face still showed enthusiasm for what promised to be an adventure far grander than anything that ever happened in Hillsdale, the orc raid notwithstanding. He, too, ran from the shop after receiving the letter and some coin.
"I need a sheet of paper," Sturm said.
Eric tore a third sheet from his journal, then offered Sturm his pen, ink, and blotter. Sturm wrote a report, folded it, and sealed it with wax. He gave the letter to a third apprentice. "Take this letter to Plainsdale. Go to the compound of the Knights of the Sun. Tell them Sir Sturm Sunblade of Sunkeep sent it. Tell them to act hastily."
The teen nodded, smiling as he looked at the Sun Knight insignia on the pommel of Sturm's hand-and-a-half sword. Sturm gave the boy some coins, then watched him leave hastily.
Eric half-bowed towards the carpenter. "I thank you, Master Carpenter, for allowing to hire three of your apprentices with such short notices. As I said, they should all be back within two weeks." Eric offered the carpenter a few coins. "To compensate you for your lost labor."
The carpenter took the coins. "It is no difficulty, my lord. It will be easier to keep the other apprentices busy with work this way, as well."
Eric and Sturm left the shop, returning to the inn. In the street, Eric covered his mouth with the back of a hand, stifling a yawn. "I need some sleep," he said quietly to the silent knight.
Bilbus was floating in nothingness. No, it was not quite nothingness, he realized. In the distance, any direction he looked, there was a faint gray cast, like a fog or cloud that stayed far out of reach. He drifted, unable to gauge the passage of time or movement.
After an eternity, or perhaps an instant, Bilbus could see something in the fog. It looked like the silhouette of someone reaching towards Bilbus, but he could not decide if the silhouette was of someone nearby, or someone distant, like a statue.
Although Bilbus felt no motion, he realized he was getting closer to the figure. Its left hand was outstretched, palm up. There was a figurine standing on the palm of the hand, nearly as tall as the hand was long.
Bilbus decided that the giant figure was a statue. He was now close enough to see it clearly. It was gray and huge beyond belief. As Bilbus passed over the fingers of the left hand, he realized that the face of the statue was indistinct in the fog.
The figurine on the hand was smaller, now. It was about as big as Bilbus was, standing on the palm of the hand, still twelve paces away.
The figurine moved. Bilbus realized that it was a man. He wore light colored robes underneath a royal violet cloak that fell nearly to his ankles. His face was darker than most Kellts, and he had black, neatly cropped hair. Bilbus had the distinct impression that the man was from al-Rhayidh -- he had the appearance of the few traders from that desert country whom Bilbus had seen in Brallian.
Bilbus landed on the palm of the enormous statue's hand, several paces from the man. The man turned to face Bilbus. The face and close-cropped beard were familiar, but Bilbus could not decide why.
"Yes?" he asked impatiently. There was no hint of an accent, but Bilbus did not expect one for some reason. It is a dream, a voice in his mind reminded him.
Bilbus put his fists on his hips and straightened. "I'm Bilbus th..."
"Bilbus the Great," the man interrupted. "Yes, I have heard of you." The man seemed amused by Bilbus's shocked expression. "Surprised? Shut your mouth, child."
Bilbus had been gaping like a fish on land. He closed his mouth as the man continued to speak.
"We certainly expected something different for Our hope. Come with Us, Bilbus. We have much to discuss."
Bilbus heard the emphasis in the man's speech, but was not sure yet how to interpret it.
The man held a hand towards Bilbus, and everything spun briefly. When it stopped, Bilbus found himself in a dark-walled room. Onyx walls? he wondered. The room was lit by numerous torches, none of which smoked. A large hearth on one side of the room contained a raging fire, but Bilbus could feel no heat from it. A pair of inviting padded chairs were on a rug in front of the hearth.
"Sit, Bilbus," the well-dressed man ordered. "The Great? You certainly are not great, are you? Not yet, at least." The man sat in one of the chairs. Bilbus sat in the other, unable to stop himself. "We could make you great. We could make your name known all over Oerth, and give you Avillonia as your personal play grounds."
"You -- how?" Bilbus stammered. For some reason, he knew who the man was. A chill crept up his spine.
"Yes, Bilbus," the Dark One said. "We can give you everything beyond your wildest heart's desires. Fame. Money. Power. Women. All of it."
Someone was approaching from behind the chairs. The figure walked around the edge of the table, holding a tray with two mugs. Bilbus felt his heart leap as he realized it was Adria, her golden hair silky, and a deep blue silk dress clinging to her every curve. An inviting smile just curved the ends of her lips. The sensuous swaying of her hips fixed Bilbus's attention until she stopped. His eyes slowly traced their way up to hers, admiring every curve along the way. How does silk cling like that? the mountebank wondered as he felt his pulse quickening.
"Do you want her?" the Dark One asked. "She's yours. There is much more for you, as well. You have to do but one thing for Us."
"What?" Bilbus rasped from a dry mouth.
"A companion of yours threatens Us. He must not be allowed to reach Our palace. All you have to do is stop him before he enters Our palace and finds Our prison." The Dark One's gaze drifted for a moment. "The stars are almost right. We nearly have the bonds broken, but your friend will stop Us."
"Who? Who do I stop?"
"You will know who he is before you reach Our palace. Stop him from finding where We are imprisoned, and the world is yours. We give you this woman as a token of Our promise."
Bilbus looked at the Dark One. The Great Lord is offering me Adria? Bilbus shuddered. Dark One! Not Great Lord. He is not my lord. He then looked at Adria, still smiling seductively. The room and everything in it began to fade.
A voice drifted from the nothingness: "Remember. You just have to stop him. You are Our hope."
The following morning was brighter and cheerier than the previous one. Rishala stretched as he stood by one of the chairs in the common room, watching some birds hunting worms in the grass behind the inn. The Caledonian adjusted the wool kilt he wore, then sat down in the chair.
Sturm sat across from him at the table. The Sun Knight watched Rishala sit down, then asked, "Sleep well?"
Rishala scratched his chin as he watched the serving woman bring a platter of sweet breads to the table. "Actually, yes," Rishala admitted. He picked up one of the steaming rolls and tore a chunk off of it. "I had a really strange dream last night, but I still rested well."
Sturm hesitated. "I had an odd dream a few days ago."
"I think most of us had one while we were in Saltcliffs. I dinna remember you mentioning one back then. This dream was much more peaceful for me than the other one. What was your dream about?"
Sturm hesitated again, then moved to another chair to be closer to the story teller. The Sun Knight lowered his voice. "I saw a cursed spear. A man in my dream was using it in a throne room. For some reason, I was arguing with him, telling him not to use it, but he used it anyway. The spearman stabbed another man with the weapon, and the man he stabbed died pretty cruelly. His gut seemed to dissolve, spilling everything. The spearman's eyes looked a little more glazed afterwards, like something had gone away."
Rishala plucked another piece from his sweetroll. "Was that all? The dreams the others had seemed to have more."
"No, that wasn't all." Sturm grabbed a roll for himself. "I found myself in a courtyard of a mansion. A pale man was talking to me, telling me that it was about time that I started wondering where my 'Gas Bulg' is." Sturm noticed Rishala's reaction. "You know what a 'Gas Bulg' is?"
Rishala nodded, lost in thought for the moment. "Gas Bulg is an ancient spear. There are not very many stories about it, but all of them seem to have woe in common with them. The spear causes devastating, mortal wounds with almost every strike, but the cost to the wielder is steep. Some of the wielder's humanity is lost every time Gas Bulg takes a life..."
Sturm started eating the roll. "What about you? What dreams were you having?"
Rishala leaned back in his chair. "The one I had last night involved this necklace." Rishala lifted the fox-head medallion hanging from its impossibly delicate chain. "I got this in Phaeree, but I don't know what it is. I just know I can't remove it if I tried."
"Magickal," Sturm observed.
"Aye, like all of Phaeree. In my dream last night, I traveled by sea to a city called 'Celephais'. I have ne'er heard of such a city, and it certainly is not on the Vasmar, which is where my dream started. The captain of the boat knew what this medallion was, but he dinna tell me. He told me that it was my journey to find out."
"That's all that happened?"
"No. I made it to Celephais, then went to a tavern for drinks. That was it."
Sturm grunted, then grabbed another roll.
Eric walked through the back doorway of the inn. He wore lightweight clothing, without armor. His sword was strapped to his side. He had the sheen of someone who had been exerting himself. He waved politely to Sturm and Rishala, then sprinted up the stairs.
Rishala watched the Azirian leave, then chuckled to himself. Eric returned a few minutes later, in different clothes, and took another of the empty seats at the table. He grabbed a sweet roll and nodded to his two companions.
"Were you out for a jog?" Rishala asked.
Eric smiled. "I was practicing my katas. They help to clear the mind and bring focus. I usually do them every morning, Rishala. You have watched me before."
"You aren't so sweaty most mornings," Rishala observed.
"I had a lot on my mind this morning," Eric replied before tearing off a large chunk of the sweet roll he held.
Noisy thumps in the stairwell drew the three men's attention. Bilbus was staggering down the stairs, looking haggard, with his leather armored jacket on but unfastened. He had dark rings under his eyes, and his hair was in disarray.
The mountebank saw his three companions, and walked towards them. As he passed another of the tables, he grabbed a chair and slid it towards the party's table. He spun the chair backwards and half-fell onto the seat, using the backrest to support his arms.
Eric waited for the mountebank to settle into his seat. "Good morning, Bilbus. Something the matter?"
Bilbus sighed. "Do you remember those dreams we all had two weeks ago? The really weird ones?"
Eric nodded.
"This one was, well, different, Eric." He stopped and looked at the others before looking at Eric once more. "Really different."
"Do you want to talk about it, Bilbus?"
Bilbus looked at Sturm and Rishala again. "Let's take a walk, Eric." He stood, then grabbed another of the rolls from the tray.
"Okay," Eric said. He grabbed another roll, then followed Bilbus out the back door of the inn.
Bilbus walked slowly towards the stables. Eric caught up and walked beside the tired thief.
"Very well, Bilbus. What was different about this dream?"
Bilbus looked towards the treeline to the south, several miles from the village. "I remember that I was flying at the beginning of the dream. I don't know where I was -- everything was gray. But I saw this really big statue in front of me. As I got closer, I saw someone standing on its palm. I landed on the palm, and this really well-dressed man was there. He wore odd clothing, like a noble would wear in al-Rhayidh, I guess.
"He knew my name. He took me to a sitting room somewhere, and started talking to me. He offered me things if I would help him."
"What sort of things?" Eric asked.
Bilbus stopped and looked about him, then lowered his voice when he answered. "Money. Power. Adria."
Eric arched an eyebrow. "Adria?"
"Ssh!" Bilbus hissed. "Quiet! Someone might hear you."
Eric grinned slightly. "Are you sure this wasn't just a fantasy of yours, Bilbus?" His grin vanished as he looked at Bilbus's dark expression. "Why would he offer these things to you, Bilbus? Kindness of heart?"
Bilbus shook his head. "No. He said someone I knew was a threat. All I had to do was keep this person - whoever it is - from reaching his palace."
"Stop who? What does he mean 'stop him'?"
Bilbus's expression was level. "Considering the sort of work I do for a living, Eric, what do you think he means by 'stop him'. The Great Lord wasn't talking about just a little delay. Not for that price. And I don't know who. He didn't seem to really know."
"Great Lord?" Eric wondered aloud.
Bilbus winced. He had not realized that he had voiced the name. Finally, he nodded. "That seemed to be the name I wanted to use for him. I think he may have another name that's better known around here... 'The Dark One'."
Eric was concerned. The Azirian also looked sympathetic as he regarded his friend.
"What do I do?" Bilbus asked plaintively.
"We should tell the others," Eric suggested.
"No!" Bilbus hissed. "We're traveling with knights, Eric. A Sun Knight -- who is supposed to destroy the Dark One's armies -- and a Church Knight -- who is supposed to protect the Church from Her enemies. If I tell them I had a dream about the Dark One, they will lop my head off before I finish the sentence. And if I tell Adria... How civil do you think she will be then?"
Eric nodded. Bilbus had some reasonable arguments. "Very well. I will tell no one. But, if you have more dreams about this well-dressed man, tell me. This is important, Bilbus. Very important."
Bilbus sighed. He looked towards the nearly cloudless sky above. "Lady Fate must be laughing. I always suspected I was bearing the brunt of one of her jokes..."
Bilbus slowly followed Eric back to the common room.
Inside, Sturm and Rishala were looking at the strips of vellum that the Sun Knight had collected in the cave the previous evening. Bilbus glanced at them, then kept walking past them and up the stairs to his room.
"I tried some techniques of divination last night," Sturm was telling Rishala as Bilbus entered the common room. "The dreams I had were confusing, more so than usual. I could not make sense of any of them. The only thing I remember from the dreams was the phrase 'Shroeganus Balsil'. Does that mean anything to you?"
Rishala rocked back in his chair, rubbing his chin as he looked at the strips of vellum. "Aye," he said after a long pause. "I've heard the name." His voice shifted to his story-telling voice. "The Shroeganus Balsil is a prophecy. At least, it is part of one.
"Eleven hundred years ago, the Sage Shroeganus, one of the greatest scholars of the Golden Age of Avillonia, went on a trip to the Library of al-Rhayidh, the greatest library in the world. He was doing research on stories about Uther Paendroeg and the Dark One, and he came across some strips of vellum in the library." Rishala paused to look at the vellum on the table. "It was an odd tongue, and very old. The Sage had seen the writing before, in the archives of the Academy in Hellenas. Sage Shroeganus talked the Library into letting him take the strips back to the Academy, where he put them together with the strips he already had.
"He spent years studying and translating them. The stories say he never was able to use magicks to translate the works, but he was able to translate them through other means."
Eric had taken a seat at the table. His journal was out, and he was sketching the text of the vellum strips into his journal. He stopped sketching when Rishala paused, then asked, "What did they say?"
Rishala shook his head. "They were incomplete. The fragments that were present told of the Golden Age of Avillonia, the Fall of Camelough, and the return of the Dark One."
Eric controlled his expression carefully. "Were there any specific details?"
Rishala looked towards Eric significantly. "I don't remember specifics. All I've seen are accounts of stories, and one never knows how much of the truth remains after the retellings."
Sturm slid the vellum about, trying to sort the strips. He picked up one of them and showed it to his two comrades. "I wonder why this one has two lines of writing, when the rest have four. Do you think it's the end of the balsil?"
"It would make sense," Rishala said.
Eric finished copying the scripts into his notebook, then looked out the back doorway, lost in thought.
Adria managed to finally slip away from Breanna. Breanna may have been a year or two older than Adria, but she talked like a girl ten years younger. She prattled endlessly about Eric, without ever saying anything. Looking for any excuse to leave the room, Adria finally grabbed her bow and a quiver of arrows. The younger noblewoman slipped down the stairs and out the front door of the inn while Sturm and Rishala were studying the odd strips they had found the previous evening in the cave.
Now she was walking towards the stables, looking for somewhere she could practice archery and maybe settle her mind while she was at it.
One of the stable hands came running out of the stables, rubbing an arm and looking over a shoulder. He stopped abruptly just before running into Adria, and he looked up in surprise when he realized she was there. His unruly mop of pale brown hair partly covered his eyes, and he had smudges of dirt encrusted on his clothes and a few strands of hay jutting out of his hair.
He managed a sloppy bow, still rubbing his arm, and stuttered, "My lady, I am sorry! That horse, I swear by the gods, is the Dark One himself, if he is anyone!"
Farran... Adria thought. To the boy, she said, "Of course he isn't. Farran is the warhorse of a Church Knight. Warhorses have to be vicious to survive a battle." Although Farran is much worse than most.
"If you say so, my lady. But the other knight's horse is much easier to handle, even if he is every bit as big."
"You can take a break from tending the horses to help me. I am looking for an archery target. I want some time to practice. Are there any archery targets in town?"
The boy paused to think. "I think I know where one is. I'll get it!" He ran towards town.
Adria walked around to the back of the inn, looking at the fields south of the town. There were no livestock, or even game animals, so she was not worried about missed shots. The boy returned, struggling to drag a stout wooden target behind him.
"Good," Adria said. "Put it over there, away from the stables, about ten paces away from me."
The boy dragged the round shield on its heavy supports over to a spot, then turned it to face Adria. Concentric rings had been painted on the shield at one time, but they were chipped and faded. Dozens of holes were in the shield, but the target looked like it had been unused for years.
"Aren't there archers around here?" Adria wondered aloud.
The boy was running away from the target, back towards the stables. "I think they go hunting in the woods over there." He pointed northwest. "Maybe that's where they practice, too."
As soon as the boy was safely clear of the firing lane, Adria strung her bow and grabbed the first arrow. With a smooth motion, Adria pulled the bowstring taut. She released the string, and, with a quivering twang, the string snapped home, driving the arrow through the edge of the smallest ring on the shield. The arrow punched through the board, stripping fletching from the arrow shaft as the arrow sailed into the field behind the inn.
Kuso! Adria cursed to herself. I'll have to repair that arrow.
She drew another arrow, but did not pull the bowstring to full draw. The arrow sailed into the shield, but did not pass clear through it. It was a foot from the middle, to the opposite side of the center from her first shot.
"An amateur archer," Eric said from the doorway of the inn.
Adria turned to him, glaring, as he walked towards her, shaking his head and tsking.
She put one hand on her hip as she lowered the bow. "Archery is not usually taught to ladies, dear sir."
Eric's voice was mocking. "That is no excuse, lady." Adria's mouth hung partially open. Eric had never shown this much rudeness to her, or anyone she could remember. The explorer began his lecture. "If you are going to learn something like this, you either learn all of it, or you don't start. Being a half-skilled archer is far more dangerous to your friends than having no idea how to hold a bow. Let's see if you're even half an archer."
Eric walked past Adria, ignoring her glare. He removed Adria's arrows from the target, placing the arrow head-first in the soil. He then picked up the target and carried it into the field behind the inn. Adria counted about a hundred paces before the Azirian set the target down. He kicked against the legs of the target to make sure it was well-placed, then walked back to Adria.
"Take that shot," he instructed.
Adria drew another arrow, taking careful aim as Eric walked around behind her to watch her bow handling technique.
From over her shoulder, she heard Bilbus taunt, "Careful, Eric! She might miss and hit you!"
Adria relaxed the tension on the bow and turned to find the thief leaning out of a second story window. He had a mocking grin that matched his tone of voice.
Calmly, Eric said, "Ignore him."
Adria turned to face the target again. She drew the arrow back, and released it just as Bilbus shouted "Watch out!"
The arrow sailed into the grassy field, plunging into the soil several paces from the target.
"Told you!" Bilbus shouted.
Eric ignored the mountebank as he told Adria, "Take another arrow. Draw it back slowly, keeping it aimed the entire time. Breathe slowly. As soon as you exhale, release the arrow."
Adria did as instructed. The arrow sailed into the sky, falling until it hit the bottom of the target.
"Better!" Eric said.
"Are you kidding?" Bilbus called from his room in the inn. "That wouldn't have slowed an orc!"
Adria threw her bow to the ground and stormed towards the inn. Eric watched her disappear into the back door, then looked at Bilbus, who was chuckling while he still hung out of the window. The mountebank spun about suddenly when the door to his room swung open. Adria's shouts drifted down from the room, while Bilbus visibly cowered. After a rapid-fire string of shouts, Adria returned to the field behind the inn.
She picked up her bow and serenely asked, "Where were we, Eric?"
Eric answered, "You were shooting at a target from about a hundred and ten paces."
"Oh, yes," Adria said, as if she had been merely distracted. She fired another arrow, placing it about a foot short of the target.
"Remember," Eric said soothingly. "Concentrate and breathe. Ignore anything that is not between you and the target."
Adria fired a fourth arrow. Ten paces from the end of the bow, the arrow abruptly turned downwards, plowing into the soft earth and throwing grass and dirt into the air. Adria twisted about abruptly to spot Bilbus in the window, two fingers pointing towards the ground where the arrow hit. The thief saw her glare and smiled as he rubbed his fingers on his jacket.
Adria snarled.
Before she could do anything, Eric gently took her bow from her hands. "Lady Adria, watch me."
Adria turned towards him, but took a couple of steps back.
Bilbus called from his windows, "Come on, Eric. Show her how it's done!"
Eric smiled serenely and drew an arrow. He sighted on the target, tipping the end of the bow upwards, as his breathing slowed.
"Are you going to wait all day?" Bilbus asked loudly.
In one swift motion, Eric turned about, drew the arrow to full extension, and lifted the bow towards Bilbus. Before the mountebank had a chance to register the sudden danger, Eric released the arrow. The fletching of the arrow passed within inches of Bilbus's gaping mouth to punch through the ceiling of the room, vanishing into the attic of the inn. Eric had a satisfied smile as he gave the bow back to a stunned Adria. Bilbus shouted incoherently at the Azirian.
Eric said calmly, "Like I said, Lady. If you're going to do it, do it right."
Adria's mouth was slack as she watched the explorer walk back into the inn. Bilbus was likewise quiet, still in disbelief at how close to death he had just been.
Eric found Sturm and Rishala still at the table. Sturm was rubbing the bandages on his wounded shoulder.
"Sturm, why dinna ye have Breanna look at the wound?" Rishala suggested.
"I did," the Sun Knight growled. "She says she can't heal it. She said it had an oily sensation about it when she tried to cure it."
"Really?" Rishala asked. The tone in his voice shifted to concern. "How did ye get that cut?"
Sturm stopped rubbing the bandages. "That thing I fought in the tower..."
"The Shadow Kindred?" Rishala asked. His worry was now clear on his face.
"If that's what it's called. It was too fast for me to block all of its swings. It cut me once. The wound feels odd. I wonder if it is infected."
Rishala whistled softly.
"What?" Sturm asked.
"I had a dream about the darkblades, back in Saltcliffs. I was riding with some men of al-Rhayidh's army, probing the Wasted Lands to their south, where the Dark One's castle still stands. The army got in a fight with some of the Dark One's minions guarding the castle itself. There were Shadow Kindred, and one of them struck one of my companions. As we rode back towards civilization, the man who was struck by the darkblade wasted away. He got sicker and weaker as the hours passed.
"When I asked, he said there was nothing to be done for him, for only the horse-men could heal the wound."
"Horse men?" Sturm asked. "Knights?"
"No. He was talking of the centaurs."
"Centaurs," Sturm said levelly.
"Aye," Rishala said. "Most of the centaurs live on Phaeree." Rishala paused in a brief reverie of his time in that parallel world. "But I dinna see any for myself. There are tribes of centaurs on the Nomad Steppes of the northeastern Vasmar coast." Rishala paused and looked at Sturm. "If you're going to get that wound healed, we will have to go to the Nomad Steppes."
"And if we don't?" Sturm asked, although he already suspected the answer.
"That wound will kill you, Sir Knight. It will never get better, but it will always get worse."
Sturm nodded to himself. "How long will it take to kill me?"
Rishala got out of his chair and walked around the table. He lifted the bandages covering the cut. The cut was shallow, nearly as long as Rishala's hand, but the skin surrounding it had an angry red color. "I'm nae an expert, Sturm, but the wound does not appear to be bad right now. It doesn't seem to be affecting you as badly as the wound did to the man in my dream. You may be able to make it a couple of months, maybe. But you will be getting worse that entire time."
Sturm looked at the wound for a moment before Rishala put the bandages back in place.
Adria dropped onto her bed, taking little satisfaction in the bounce of the overstuffed feather mattress. Breanna was sitting across the room from her in their shared room, on the only chair they had.
"I can't believe him sometimes," Adria snarled. At least the thief had shut up for a while after Eric had nearly perforated his empty head with that arrow. Would the arrow even have been slowed? she wondered darkly.
"Him who?" Breanna asked. Seeing the dark storm clouds crossing Adria's face, she quickly surmised the answer. "I don't understand him, myself. He is always a little bit arrogant and smug when he talks to me, but he seems to be an entirely different person when he is around you." She studied Adria's face for a moment, trying to gauge just how far she could press the blonde noblewoman with questions. "What happened between you two?"
Adria snorted, then waved dismissively. "He's just jealous because I am something he can never be: nobility."
Breanna kept watching Adria. "I'm a noble. Lord Ith... Eric is a noble. Bilbus treats both of us as equals, at worst. He doesn't show proper deference to our station, but I don't think Bilbus could be proper to anyone."
"Exactly!" Adria said as she met Breanna's gaze. "He is no noble. He's nothing but a commoner and a thief!"
"So what if he is a commoner?" Breanna asked. Adria had relaxed a little, and Breanna felt less threatened. She was not sure why Adria felt threatening, but she stopped that train of thought. Talk to Adria first. "I've known nobles with worse manners, and you can't tell me you haven't, as well." Adria's expression darkened dangerously. Breanna felt a chill down her spine.
Adria's thoughts were chaotic. Did she know? Bilbus better not have talked. Adria's face clouded as she thought of what would happen to that petty thief if he had talked about her past.
"Adria?" Breanna asked, drawing the older noble from her thoughts.
Adria shook her head. What was she talking about? Oh. Bilbus. "Bilbus gets away with those manners! You heard what he did to my archery practice this morning."
"Everyone heard it." Breanna blushed furiously when she realized she had actually said that, not thought it.
Adria stood up, her hands fidgeting with her skirts. Breanna tensed as her roommate walked past her towards the well-worn saddle bags at the foot of Adria's bed. She loosened a strap and started rummaging through the bag.
"Adria, what are you doing?" Breanna asked as she watched the woman pull out a large pouch.
"I just thought of a way to put Bilbus in his place," Adria replied. She pulled a heavy book out of the saddle bag. Breanna had seen Adria studying from the book on occasion throughout the trip. The book was old, but it had all sorts of mixtures and uses for herbs. Breanna was going to borrow the book one of these days.
Breanna protested, "You can't kill him!"
"I'm not going to kill him," Adria said distantly. "I'm not even going to hurt him. I just want to annoy him a little. He annoys me so much..." She dropped the book on her bed and started to thumb through it, flipping past a number of pages until she found one she wanted.
Breanna cautiously approached Adria, looking over her shoulder at the instructions Adria was reading. She suppressed a small giggle.
"You like this one?" Adria asked, smiling as she looked over her shoulder at Breanna.
"I've used it..." Breanna stopped herself as a fiery blush crept past the neckline of her dress.
"Do tell," Adria urged.
"Jamie was always getting into trouble, and he'd somehow manage to get me involved, too. I found a book in Master Shipley's collection that talked about things like this, so I used... Never mind." Her blush intensified for a moment.
"Uh huh," Adria said, amused with Breanna's admission. "I think it would be a good one to use on Bilbus. He's so busy expecting me to kill him, he would never bother thinking of anything else. Not that he thinks, mind you."
"It is a potent itch. So Jamie says," Breanna said. "You could put some in his boots, or the collar of his jacket..."
"Do you have any of these ingredients?" Adria asked. Her finger ran down a listing on the page. "I think I have most of these. But what's this? Cacklegrass?"
"It's a kind of grass. We have a lot of it near Armagh. It's really hard on livestock when they eat it. One of our ranchers nearly lost his herd to a bunch of it. The cattle ate the grass, and then their mouths swelled. They had some nasty sores. Master Shipley and I spent a day just trying to ease the sores so they could eat again. It still took them a couple of days to recover." Breanna looked out the window at the fields to the south. "I think we can find some around here." She skimmed through the instructions for mixing the irritant. "We won't need it right away. We can track it down later this afternoon."
Adria dug out a small mortar and pestle as Breanna started collecting the ingredients from the pouches both women had. Breanna was giggling to herself as she added herbs to the mixture. Jamie really had deserved her revenge, and Bilbus was a lot like Jamie. He really deserved a little bit of payback.
The irritant paste was close to finished when someone knocked on the door to the room.
"Cover the mortar," Adria hissed as she turned towards the door. She adjusted the sharp dart-tipped knives she used to hold her hair in a bun on the back of her head, then wiped her hand in the folds of her skirt. She managed to get a little of the paste on her fingers, and they burned.
Adria swung the door open to find Bilbus standing at it. "Why, Bilbus!" she said coolly before she glimpsed over her shoulder to check on Breanna. A riding jacket covered the mess on the table, and Breanna had taken a seat on her bed, holding a needle in one hand and fishing for thread in a nearby bag.
Adria stepped away from the door, a pleasant but cool smile on her face. Bilbus stepped into the room, followed closely by Eric.
"Eric as well?" Adria asked pleasantly. "What honor do I owe a gentleman such as you?"
Bilbus turned to Eric to protest, half-pointing at Adria while mouthing, "See?"
Eric looked past Bilbus at Breanna, returning the red-headed noble's smile. "Breanna?" he asked. "Would you mind waiting outside for a moment? Bilbus needs to talk to Adria."
Breanna tried to hide her disappointment as she dropped the needle back into Adria's sewing kit. "Very well, Eric," she said as she stood to leave.
She swept between Eric and Bilbus, brushing slightly against Eric's arm as she did so. Eric closed the door carefully, then leaned against it, bracing it to prevent escape.
Adria sat down elegantly upon the chair, smoothing her skirt and placing her hands on her lap to cover the spot where she had wiped the irritant paste. She looked the very model of a lady receiving an audience. "Now, Bilbus," she said regally. "You needed to talk?"
Bilbus glanced back at Eric once more. The explorer crossed his arms and nodded.
Bilbus turned back to Adria. "Adr... Lady Adria, I wish to apologize for this morning. I did not realized that you were practicing with your bow. I thought you were simply demonstrating to Eric, or passing time."
Adria sat still, eyes unblinking, as she considered a response. "Very well. Since you offer an apology as a gentleman, I, as a lady, must accept it."
Eric snickered, then quickly recovered, upset that he had broken what had been a somber mood. He muttered a quiet apology, then noticed Adria's smile, a curve to her lips that did not touch her eyes.
"Well, Bilbus," Eric said. "Let's not bother the lady any further. Come along."
Bilbus wordlessly followed the Azirian back into the hall, passing Breanna as he did.
Breanna went back into her room and shut the door carefully. "What was that all about?" she asked when she saw Adria still sitting on the chair.
Dismissively, Adria responded, "Bilbus tried to apologize. Eric must have coerced him. Why else would he have come here?" She looked at the riding jacket. "Let's finish the paste."
Shortly after midday, Adria decided to head downstairs to join the rest of the party in the common room. Breanna had left a short while earlier to look for some cacklegrass, and there really was nothing else Adria could do with the paste until Breanna had found some.
Kasey sat at the table closest to the front entrance of the inn, while Eric, Rishala, Sturm, and Bilbus sat at the table next to the Church Knight. Adria took a seat at Kasey's table, pointedly facing away from Bilbus and the others at that table.
Rishala watched her sit down. "M'Lady," he said. She looked at him, so he kept talking. "You are a woman with interesting talents. Most women of your station do not practice archery. What other hobbies do you have?"
Bilbus laughed mirthlessly and picked up his mug. "You mean, besides giggling a lot and plotting ways to kill me?"
Kasey scratched his head. "Isn't that what most women around you do?" He seemed serious.
Adria smiled at Kasey. "I'm sure you've never had a problem like that, kind Sir Knight."
Rishala leaned towards Bilbus. In a loud stage whisper, he said, "She seems nice enough now, Bilbus. Maybe it is time for ye to run!"
Breanna walked through the back door of the inn, not really paying attention to her surroundings. Her eyes were distant, and she did not notice the bar maid who nearly ran into her. The maid recovered her balance without spilling any of the mugs on the serving platter, and kept from cursing. The barmaid kneeled next to Sturm's table to deliver a fresh round of drinks to the travelers. She then put a mug in front of Kasey as well.
Breanna realized where she was, then took a seat next to Bilbus, still looking distantly.
Bilbus presented one of his smug grins as he set down his mug. He leaned towards Breanna. "So, Bree. I remind you of your brother, you said? Jamie, right? A dashing young lad, I take it."
Breanna's eyes came back into focus. Her face reddened, not from embarrassment, and she glared at Bilbus. She smashed her fists onto the edge of the table, startling her companions, who were alone in the common room. "Is that all you think about, Bilbus? You really have no idea what's happening. Look at this! I went on a trip to finish my apothecary studies, and have some adventure before I get married, and then there's orcs, and fires, and killing, and, and you!"
She stood abruptly, her hands still clenched tight, and ran towards the door.
The barmaid returned to the common room to see what the source of the commotion was. Her eyes settled on Kasey, and a smile blossomed that threatened to crack her face in two. She approached Kasey's table. "Sir Knight, may I fetch you anything?"
Kasey ignored the maid as he watched Breanna run out of the room and drop onto the worn wooden planking in front of the inn, her body heaving in sobs. Kasey stood up before he noticed the barmaid hovering next to him. "Sorry, lass," the blond knight said. "I'll be back in a moment."
The knight walked around the other table, stopping behind Bilbus's chair. He grabbed Bilbus's shoulder with one hand, clenching and lifting the mountebank. The sudden, painful pressure jerked Bilbus from his brooding.
"Bilbus, you are going to apologize to the Lady Breanna," Kasey announced as he lifted Bilbus bodily from the chair.
"For what?" Bilbus asked, irritated. He stood quickly, hoping the Church Knight would release some of the pressure.
Kasey pushed Bilbus towards the doorway, still holding the thief's shoulder. "For whatever it is that made Breanna cry."
"Fine, fine!" Bilbus said as he tried to get free of the iron grip of the knight.
Kasey released his grip on Bilbus when the two were outside. Bilbus walked out onto the street, two paces in front of Breanna. She did not notice him at first, since her face was buried in her hands. Her knees were folded nearly to her chest, giving Bilbus a fine view of her lower legs. Kasey stood behind Breanna, arms crossed and scowling at Bilbus. The stern expression helped Bilbus keep focused on his task.
"Bree?" Bilbus paused, waiting for Breanna to lift her head. When she did, Bilbus said, "I'm sorry."
Kasey cleared his throat. "You'll be there until I believe it, Bilbus."
Bilbus took a half step towards Breanna and dropped to one knee. Breanna lowered her legs, folding them and pushing her skirt down to block the tantalizing view of her shins.
Bilbus tried again. "Lady Breanna, I am truly sorry that I caused you upset in the inn just now. My thoughts were elsewhere, considering the recent turns of events. I was not paying attention to what I said, and I did not intend to lash out at you, m'Lady."
After he finished, Bilbus realized that he really had dropped his bravado and had spoken as earnestly as he could remember doing in recent memory. Breanna was staring at him, cheeks still damp from the tears. Bilbus pulled a folded cloth from an inner pocket of his jacket. He held it out to her until she took it. She looked at it suspiciously.
"It is clean," Bilbus assured her. Breanna laughed quietly as she dabbed the cloth at the tears on her cheeks.
"Thank you, Bilbus," Breanna said. Her voice had already returned to normal. She glimpsed up over her shoulder at Kasey. "Thank you, too, Sir Kasey. I think this trip has been difficult for all of us."
Kasey bowed to Breanna, then returned to the common room. He sat down once more next to Adria. "He really does mean well, you know," he said conversationally.
"That lout?" Adria snorted derisively. "He only means to fatten his purse at every opportunity that he's not busy rolling in the barn with the latest in a long line of bar maids."
A middle-aged woman walked into the common room. Her face sagged from exhaustion and worry, and her dress was smudged with soot. She looked at the party sitting at their tables. Rishala recognized her. She was one of the smiths' wives.
She looked at the knights. "I was told you went to the mines. Was my husband there? Are you going to help him?"
No one answered right away. Rishala cleared his throat. "We dinna get them out yet. There are a lot of orcs at the mines, and we don't have the numbers to attack them without getting a lot of us killed, and maybe the smiths and miners, as well."
"You can't just leave him!" She looked from one member of the party to the next. "Please, help us."
"We will try," Rishala said gently. "We need to find a way to get the men out of there without getting any of them killed."
The woman nodded to herself, assured by Rishala's answer. She turned and left, passing Breanna, who was just coming back into the inn.
"How are we going to help them?" Rishala wondered aloud once the woman was out of earshot.
"We can work on a plan today," Eric said. "If it goes together well, we maybe able to do something tomorrow. We don't want to rush back before we have something planned."
Sturm nodded. "The better we plan, the more likely we will be able to handle contact with the orcs. We will have more options and better contingencies."
Bilbus had gone outside when the planning began. That sort of activity was better left to the knights. Well, Sturm, at least. Kasey was not big on planning, either. The sun had just passed midday, and a few clouds had drifted in on the breeze that had picked up during the afternoon. The target Eric and Adria had used earlier in the day was still out in the field; Adria's arrows were still out there, as well. Bilbus started meandering towards the target, not really intent on doing anything at the moment. He spotted Breanna behind the stables, holding a rapier that he had seen on her during the trip to the mines. The mountebank immediately steered towards her.
She looked embarrassed when she realized Bilbus was approaching. Bilbus grinned at her. "I thought I saw a rapier on your belt when we rode out to the mines." He inspected the heavy wire of the swept hilt. "That is some fine workmanship. Do you really know how to use it?"
Breanna shrugged. "I know a little bit. Not as much as I should."
"Really?" Bilbus straightened. "We could spar a little bit, to let me see how well you handle the rapier. I could give you some pointers." He glanced towards the inn, which was blocked from view by the stables. "We probably should spar right here. Some people get really touchy seeing a commoner pointing a sword at a noble."
Bilbus realized that Breanna was looking at him oddly, her head cocked to one side.
"What?" Bilbus asked defensively.
"No 'I can teach you how to use the sword right'? No 'You're a girl, you couldn't possibly know how to use a sword'?"
Bilbus shook his head. "Look. I'm no noble. Maybe you've noticed. With the people I know, assuming a woman is utterly helpless is a fast way to get robbed blind, or killed. If you prefer that I treat you like a noble, I will."
"No!" Breanna quickly interjected. "That's not what I meant!"
"Well then, why don't you go get your jacket and gloves and come back here. If I'm going to see how well you fight, I have to cross blades with you, and I would not want to put a hole in that lovely bodice you're wearing."
Bilbus watched Breanna practically skip back to the inn.
When she returned several minutes later, wearing her armor, Bilbus was dismayed to find Adria following her.
The blonde woman regarded Bilbus coolly. "Haven't you fought enough duels with noble women?" she asked.
"Funny, Adria," Bilbus retorted. "Bree doesn't think she's good enough with her rapier. I asked her to get into some armor so I could see what she can do."
Adria leaned against the weathered outer wall of the stables, her arms crossed, with an amused grin. Breanna finished fastening her jacket, burbling to herself excitedly as she adjusted straps. Bilbus waited patiently, absently stretching his fingers slowly in an exercise that Kasey had shown him a couple weeks ago.
Breanna finished readying. She faced Bilbus, looking at him nervously.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, her voice quivering.
Bilbus drew his rapier with a flourish, but quickly settled into a street-fighting stance, his rapier pointed towards Breanna's heart and his empty left hand held forward, close to the blade. Breanna mimicked Bilbus's posture, but the tip of the rapier wobbled as she fought her nerves.
Bilbus said, "Okay, show me what you know." He then rushed towards her, slapping her rapier aside with his own blade.
Breanna squealed as she backpedaled. She brought her sword back towards Bilbus as she slapped his blade aside with her free hand.
"Good!" Bilbus exclaimed as he took a step back and quickly circled to her side.
He kept probing her defenses for several minutes, until she was sweating from the exertion. Adria watched silently from the side, evaluating both of the contestants' skills. When they stopped, Bilbus started critiquing Breanna's technique. Adria chimed in with tips for improving, and pointed out the things Bilbus had done poorly. It was late in the afternoon before the three realized what time it was and decided to stop the practice.
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Original Draft 28 November 2000
Second Draft 21 April 2002
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