Read The Companions of Tartiël Online
Authors: Jeff Wilcox
She shot him a withering glare that did not faze him in the least. “Stay out of this, boy,” she drawled. “I’m not here to hurt you. My quarrel is with this…
fiend
here.”
At the word “boy,” the man with the dog raised one eyebrow and looked up as though glancing at his brown but graying hair. “And what quarrel would that be?”
The woman hissed in frustration and shook her sword in Kaiyr’s direction. “My reasons are my own.”
Scratching his head, the man looked over at his furry companion, still on the stairs, and motioned him over. The beast trotted to his side, tongue lolling. Kaiyr would have raised an eyebrow if he knew the woman before him wouldn’t mistake it for an expression of derision. This certainly was no dog; it really was a wolf.
“Okay,” said the man with the wolf, his tone apologetic, “there’s a real easy way to solve this. You, Miss…”
“Astra,” the woman growled. The man with the wolf nodded his head in thanks.
“You, Astra, are accusing this man…”
“Blademaster Kaiyr,” Kaiyr offered, also receiving a nod.
“Lies!” Astra spat, “This is Saye—”
“… of wronging you,” the man went on, louder than the angry she-warrior. “Blademaster Kaiyr, have you had contact with this woman in the past?”
Kaiyr shook his head gently. “I have not.”
“Are you really who you say you are? You are Kaiyr and not this ‘Sayel,’ as this woman believes you to be?”
Kaiyr nodded. “I am indeed Blademaster Daioskaiyr Stellarovim.” He wanted to add more but sensed that additional words might have inflamed the situation further.
The halfling who had run away from the door upon Astra’s more than dramatic entrance reappeared and hopped up on the chair opposite the man with the wolf. “You know, lady, you’re kind of ruining the whole mood of this place. Besides, he doesn’t look like such a bad man. I mean, if he was, and you came storming in here the way you did, would he have wasted any time in cutting you out of that oh-so-revealing top?”
Astra scowled in the halfling’s direction. “Who the hell are you?”
“Wild,” the short fellow replied with a wide smile. “Billcock Wild.”
*
“W-what?” Dingo sputtered as Xavier and I burst out laughing. Matt just sat back, arms crossed and utterly pleased.
“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms and still grinning. “His name’s Billcock. It’s actually a real name.”
“Oh, God,” Dingo sighed, amused. “Sadly, I can vouch for that.”
Matt saw me and Xavier chuckling, and he leaned forward in his seat. “Hey, guys. Billcock, Billcock, Billcock!”
That, only sent us all into fits of laughter, and it took Dingo several minutes to recover and regain our attention.
“I think I’m just going to call you ‘Wild’,” I told Matt, who shrugged.
“That’s actually what he goes by,” he replied. “Billcock,” he stage-whispered, and we all snickered again.
“Okay, for roleplaying’s sake,” I said. “Let’s get back to the game. Dingo, what happens next?”
“Well,” Dingo replied, playing with couple d20s in his hands, “Astra glares at Wild and is like…”
*
“And what the hell do you want?” the woman huffed, the wind taken from her sails by the interference of the two people and the wolf.
Wild shrugged. “I just want to know what in the Nine Hells makes you think you have the right to come storming in here, whipping your little sword around and threatening patrons. This guy wasn’t causing any trouble to anyone here, just enjoying a quiet meal by himself.”
Kaiyr closed his eyes for a moment as silence reigned supreme again. When he opened them a few breaths later, he spoke up. “Masters Wild and…”
“Caineye,” the man with the wolf told him. Then he pointed to his wolf. “And Vinto.”
Kaiyr nodded. “Masters Caineye and Wild, I thank you for coming to my defense. However, I do not wish to make this your problem.” He fixed Astra with his serious, cobalt stare. “Lady Astra, you have my condolences for whatever this Sayel caused you to lose. What can I do to prove to you that I am not this ‘Sayel?’”
Astra scowled again. “Show me the blade you carry, elf.”
Kaiyr maintained his level expression. “You must understand that I carry no blade. I fight only with my spirit—”
“Show me,
now
,” she hissed, and both Caineye and Wild raised concerned eyebrows and aimed them at Kaiyr.
“Very well.” Slowly, so as not to provoke her, Kaiyr pushed his chair back and rose, drawing himself to his full height of six feet, very tall for an elf. “Though I bare my fighting spirit, I swear to do you no harm, my lady.”
Astra rolled her eyes, keeping her rapier pointed at the blademaster’s heart. The shaking of her grip had subsided, and she now seemed more exasperated and willing to get this over with.
Curling his fingers around a handle that was not there, Kaiyr closed his eyes and sent his thoughts spiraling downward, into himself. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the world in a slightly different light. He could sense, almost see, every tiny movement in the tavern. His senses were so heightened that they bordered on supernatural prescience.
With an effort of will, Kaiyr commanded his spirit to come to his call. For a moment, a single, golden mote of light circled his hand. Then, as suddenly as though it had always been there but had gone unnoticed, a golden hilt appeared in his hand, a solid shaft covered in intricate wire-work of the same material. After a heartbeat, a blade made seemingly of glass appeared, extending from the hilt. It manifested with the same, always-yet-never-there sensation as the first half. The blade glittered in the lamplight, and more than a few of the remaining patrons leaned forward in their seats, breaths held.
“I guarantee you that this is not the blade that wronged you, Lady Astra,” Kaiyr told the woman. “No blademaster would ever harm an innocent life.” He could have put a tone in his voice that questioned her innocence but decided against it.
Caineye stepped up. “He’s telling the truth, my lady. Had he fallen spiritually, his blade would be dark.”
Kaiyr raised an eyebrow at the man, surprised that he was so familiar with the esoteric lore of elven blademasters. Looking back at Astra, Kaiyr nodded. “As you can see, my soul yet remains pure. Please, I ask of you to lower your sword. Join me at my table and tell me of your troubles. Perhaps I might be of some assistance to you.”
Defeated, Astra blew a sigh and slid her rapier back into its scabbard. “All right, Kaiyr. I’ll believe you. For now.” She ran a hand through her long hair, pulling it back into a high ponytail and tying it off with a raspberry-red thong. “And thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to involve you any more than I already have. Sorry. I’ll just be going now.”
Kaiyr released his grasp on his soulblade, and it disappeared into thin air, again with the same feeling that it had never been there at all, or that perhaps it
was
still there. “Lady Astra, please,” he entreated her. “If there is someone committing wrongs and making them seem the work of a blademaster, then it is a matter that concerns all blademasters, myself included.” He looked at the other two. “Master Caineye, Master Wild. I would be much obliged if you would allow me to pay for your meals. You came to my aid, though I am a stranger to you. Allow me to repay you in this small manner.”
Caineye nodded gravely. “Thank you, Master Kaiyr.” His use of the title was hesitant, but it earned him a respectful nod from the blademaster.
“Sure, I think I will,” Wild added, plopping straight down into the chair upon which he had been standing. Caineye, too, pulled out a chair, and Vinto sat down, tongue lolling, next to the human. Astra had not yet sat down, and Kaiyr moved around the table to seat her. She scowled at him but took the proffered seat.
As patrons returned to their seats and conversation began anew, though at a much quieter level than before, Kaiyr pulled out a gold coin and motioned to the innkeeper. “Please, order what you will. You, too, Lady Astra,” he said gently, mindful of the eyes, both Astra’s and Wild’s, that watched his every motion when he replaced the small bundle of coins in a pocket hidden in his robes’ voluminous sleeves.
“So tell us, Lady Astra,” Kaiyr said, lacing his fingers on the table before him and leaning forward. “Tell us of this Sayel.”
II.
Dingo cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes again. “Okay, so the four of you are seated at the table. Astra looks really uncomfortable talking about this, but she goes on anyway.” He paused and looked up at Xavier. “You have ranks in Knowledge (nature), right?”
“Pff,” Xavier scoffed. “What kind of druid would I be if I didn’t? Want me to roll?”
“Yeah. Tell me your total.”
Xavier picked up a twenty-sided die and looked down at his paper. “Okay, I’ve got a fourteen in my Intelligence and max ranks in Knowledge (nature)…” He raised his hand, forestalling the predictable calculation that any one of us would have gladly offered. “… and an additional plus two from
nature sense
as a druid. So I’m at plus eight.” He had already added the numbers up on the sheet, but he recalculated them to get a reaction, and he was rewarded for the effort.
“Jeez,” Dingo said. “All right. Roll ‘em.”
Xavier rolled his d20 in his hand longer than was necessary but finally dropped it on the desk before him. It bounced around with a clatter before stopping. “All right, I rolled a sixteen, so with plus eight, I’ve got a twenty-four.”
“Nice,” Dingo said. “You totally killed that DC
[4]
, so you recognize that Astra, whom you all believe to be a half-elf because of her ears, is actually some kind of true fey. She looks like a nymph, but there’s even something… more about her, as though she’s part nymph, part something else.”
“Oh, gods,” I muttered. “A nymph. Okay, guys. If anybody goes blind suddenly and without explanation, we know who to blame.” Dingo just grinned. “But I’m assuming Caineye isn’t about to relay this information to us, so to me and Wild, she’s still some kind of half-elf.”
Dingo nodded. “That’s right.”
“All right,” I sighed. “And I’m guessing my two ranks in Knowledge (history) or (nobility and royalty) aren’t going to help me much here.” Our DM shook his head. “Okay, well, getting back to the game, I ask her,
Lady Astra, when did you last face this ‘Sayel?’
”
“Okay,” Dingo replied. “She says…”
*
“I never actually saw him myself,” Astra admitted, bowing her head. “I guess… I was a little fired up. I was told that a man with a glass sword that he could summon from nowhere was the one who…” She paused. “I was asking if anyone had seen someone like that around town, and somebody mentioned seeing you here.”
“Curious,” Kaiyr replied. “Until today, I have had no cause to manifest my soulblade. It seems someone recognized me as a blademaster. Perhaps they believed you needed my aid.” He paused. “I do not believe that person was wrong.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us about this ‘Sayel’ person?” Wild asked, happily sipping at a tankard of ale three sizes too large for him. “I mean, this is all really mystical. Sounds like you’re on a wild goose chase.”
“I am not!” Astra growled, slamming her fist on the table. The noise attracted the other patrons’ attention, and when Astra noticed this, she took a breath and composed herself. “I am not. Someone… did something to me. Someone named Sayel, who had some kind of blade like the blademaster’s here.” She gave the others a sheepish look. “He, uh, also wears green armor. Which, I guess, you know…”
Kaiyr tugged his traditional robes open slightly, revealing a plain shirt of chain mail beneath the folds of fabric, dark blue over white. A ghost of an amused smile passed over his features, ever so briefly.
“Yeah, I know,” Astra sighed.
Caineye raised an eyebrow, curious as to exactly what this Sayel might have done. He checked his tongue, but Kaiyr spoke for him: “Lady Astra, I will not force you to tell us how Sayel wronged you, though I believe that knowing his misdeeds may help us find him.” His gaze turned hard. “For now, you have my trust, but should I discover you have deceived me or these two gentlemen here, know that I shall be relentless in pursuing you and exacting retribution.”
At the blademaster’s first comment, Astra seemed to relax, but then anger began to smolder behind her violet orbs at his last words. “I’d like to see you try.”
Kaiyr blinked once, slowly, and told her in a gentle voice that nevertheless conveyed a grave warning, “I would rather it not be necessary.”
“I’d rather not, too,” Wild said.
“Same here,” Caineye agreed. Vinto yawned, unconcerned. “Astra, I agree with Master Kaiyr that even though more information may help us, I’m willing to trust your judgment.”
Astra nodded but pushed away her half-eaten meal. “Thanks, but I have some business to attend to.”
“Need help?” Wild asked, hopping down from his seat. He drained his ale and tossed the empty tankard back onto the table.
“No. If you’re all really that set on helping me, meet me down in Viel. There’s a little abbey about a mile northwest of the town, in the foothills. It’s a safe place to meet. If I don’t find you after three days or so… well, maybe I’ll have found Sayel by then.” She shrugged and rose. “Ta-ta, boys.”
Kaiyr stood and bowed even though she had already turned and was sauntering toward the door. “Farewell, Lady Astra,” he replied gravely, and his sentiment was echoed by Caineye and Wild.
“Whew,” Caineye breathed when Kaiyr sat down, long after Astra had left. Wild had regained his seat and was now nursing another tankard. “I think we’re all lucky to be alive and seeing right now.”
Wild put his ale down, and both he and Kaiyr gave Caineye their full attention. “What do you mean?” the shorter fellow asked.
Stroking Vinto’s head idly, Caineye told them in a low voice. “She’s a nymph.”
Kaiyr cocked his head. “A nymph in a city?”
Caineye shrugged. “I have no idea what’s going on here. But I do know that she isn’t just a nymph. There’s something else about her, too, but I can’t put my finger on it.”