The Companions of Tartiël (6 page)

I fell silent after having run my mouth for a solid several minutes. Dingo took that as a cue that I was about out of words. “Want to get dessert?” he asked.

“If by ‘get dessert’ you mean ‘walk to the dessert table and walk back empty-handed,’ then yes,” I said wryly.

He chuckled and led the way. To nobody’s surprise, we returned to the table with no dessert after spurning the choices available to us. I might have gone for ice cream if it wasn’t January.

“The blademaster sounds pretty cool,” Dingo told me on our way out. I pushed open the door to be met with a blast of wintry air, and we proceeded out into the cold and back to Lackhove. “Print me out a copy of the class so I can read over it. Other than that, sure, you can go ahead and make your character. Any idea what Xavier’s playing?”

“Yeah,” I replied, hunching up my shoulders against the icy claws of January. “He was set on the druid last night.” I chuckled a bit, remembering. “He barely glanced at anything else. How about Matt? Does he have a character yet?”

We crossed the campus road between Kriner and Lackhove, the asphalt blotchy with white salt that had melted snow and subsequently crystallized again as the snow evaporated and sublimated.

“Sort of. He says he wants to play a rogue. Said something about pairing that class with the halfling race, so his fingers’ll be extra sticky.”

Dingo rolled his eyes. “Great.”

“Heh. Well, we’ve got a balanced, if small, party. If Matt’s playing a rogue, then we’ve got the skill monkey covered. Xavier will be our healer and artillery, and once he hits level five, he’ll be able to hit the front lines with me. I’ll hold down tanking for now and do secondary healing and buffs after level four.” I paused, looking at Dingo. “Have you found another player? We could use an arcane caster. Xavier’s got some big shoes to fill.”

Dingo just shrugged as we got back to Lackhove. We entered and nodded to the desk assistant on duty on our way back to our respective rooms. “I asked a couple people. Some of them said they could play but couldn’t really commit to being at every session. Oh, that’s something I wanted to say. How are you at being at D&D sessions? Like, you don’t miss them often?”

“Pff,” I scoffed. “Dude, I’d be more surprised if
you
could run D&D as often as Xavier and I are willing and wanting to play.”

V.

“All right,” the DM said, after we had assembled in our dorm room and finished warming up our dice, giving each a few rolls and selecting the one that rolled highest. “Kaiyr, you’re an elf, so you only need four hours of sleep. That means you’re the first person awake the next morning. And by morning, I mean like, three in the morning or so.”

“Yeah, nothing unusual,” I said, shrugging. “Kaiyr, as he always does, spends an hour in waking meditation to prepare his mind and soul for the upcoming day, followed by a short physical regimen outside with his soulblade.” I scratched my chin. “Let’s see. We left the lycanthropes’ bodies in the entrance hall, right?”

“Yeah,” Dingo replied. “They’re still there. When you leave to go outside, you pass by the room with the wererats. It seems that the fourth one, the one you grappled last in-game
^[17]
night has joined the others again. He doesn’t look like he’s going to give you any trouble.”

“Good,” I said, grinning, “
My
trouble’s bigger and hurts more. Well, I’m going to strip out of my robes and get into those work clothes again. I find a shovel and head outside. I find a quiet spot to the side of the abbey and begin digging somewhat shallow but serviceable graves.” Dingo opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand, not done explaining yet. “A few minutes before the sun comes up, I’m going to head in, grab a bath, and prepare breakfast for everyone, even the wererats. I eat quickly, and before anyone wakes up, I’m going to head back out and continue working on those graves.”

“That’s going to take you pretty much all day to do, you know,” Dingo warned me.

I nodded. “I figured as much. But it needs to be done.”

“Okay,” Dingo said, “Caineye, you wake up next. What do you do?”

*

Caineye awoke to the scents of breakfast wafting into the room from down the hall. Sitting upright, he glanced around the room, bathed in morning sunlight. Kaiyr was nowhere to be seen, but Wild snored contentedly. In his sleep, the halfling fondled a golden ring that the druid recognized as having belonged to Cobain; he had not noticed the short fellow taking it. Then again, that was how thievery worked.

Vinto also still slept soundly, recovering from the wounds he had received last night. That reminded Caineye that he needed to prepare his mind to receive inspiration from nature in the form of spells, and he went to the window, gazing out at the natural world visible from the window.

After the better part of an hour, Vinto and Wild still rested. Caineye dressed and headed down the hall, where he discovered breakfast waiting for him. The druid found a small smile creeping onto his features. “Kaiyr,” he muttered, realizing that the elf had probably already been awake for several hours. He availed himself of the meal before heading out to find the blademaster.

Upon exiting the dining room, Caineye realized as he had not on the way in that the bodies of Cobain and his wererats were nowhere to be seen. A few dried splotches of blood still sullied the walls and floor. Any valuables and equipment their foes had been carrying were organized and neatly laid in a small pile next to one of the main hall’s intricately-carved pillars.

The open doors and sound of a shovel hacking into dirt drew the druid’s attention away from the gear on the floor, and he strode into the morning sunlight to find Kaiyr by the abbey’s wall. The elf’s sweaty work clothes clung to his body, and his pointed ears were visible for the first time with his hair pulled back into a high ponytail. The four bodies were laid out on the ground behind the blademaster, and he was working on the second hole as Caineye approached.

Noticing Caineye out of the corner of his eye, Kaiyr stopped and stabbed the shovel into the ground, leaning on it and breathing heavily. “Master Caineye,” the elf said with a respectful nod. “Good morning. How does the day find you?”

Caineye returned the gesture. “Good morning to you, too, Master Kaiyr. I’m well this morning. I hope you are, as well.”

“My thanks. You have partaken of the breakfast table?”

Caineye nodded, then gestured to the bodies on the ground. “I’m just curious, but why are you working so hard to bury them? It might be more practical—and natural—to leave them for animals to find, and let the earth reclaim their bodies.”

Kaiyr’s hands tightened on the grip of the shovel, and Caineye could see that the blademaster’s palms and fingers were red and scraped raw from the intense work. In a tone that was even graver than usual, the blademaster said, “It is important for me to bury my foes whenever possible. By carrying the burden of their bodies, I will better understand the weight of their lives in this world. These men were evil, yes, but they were still men and still had souls. It is a burden I must bear.” Then his eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a sharp tone. “But because they were my enemies, and fouler than anything I have ever encountered in my brief one hundred and thirty-two years of life, I would not want the innocent animals to suffer the taste of their despoiled flesh. I will deliver these bodies directly into the earth, to be dealt with as it sees fit.”

Caineye and Kaiyr locked gazes for a long moment, each reading the other, and in that moment, Caineye came to understand the gravity Kaiyr placed on life, a philosophy not so different from his own. Even though the druid placed more value on the lives of animals and other creatures which, by nature or by choice, lived natural lives in tune with the world around them, he found he could respect, understand, and, to some extent, agree with the elf’s philosophy.

Without a word, Caineye walked back into the abbey, and a minute later, as Kaiyr continued to catch his breath, the druid returned, bearing a shovel of his own.

The blademaster gave Caineye a level look before nodding. Together, the two of them set shovel to ground and continued digging the shallow graves.

*

“The day passes in much the same way, with a hush about the entire place,” Dingo said. “Wild, what are you doing?”

Matt folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I wake up eventually and get some breakfast. I’m actually moved to help out the other two dig graves, even though I might not be of real use. Besides, they probably don’t even have halfling-sized shovels. So I help the wererats clean up the main hall.”

“Ah. You see a pile of equipment against one wall, complete with small gold pouches bulging with money.”

“Ooh,” Matt said, rubbing his hands together. Then he seemed to reconsider. “Well, you know what? I’m actually not going to touch it. I figure Kaiyr would have been the one to fold this, and he’d know if I took anything. Plus, I actually kind of respect him, so I’ll leave it in his hands.”

“Okay,” Dingo replied. “What
are
you going to do about the treasure?” He looked at me, since it was my responsibility.

“Well, at dinner, after we’re done burying the bodies and all, I figure I’ll have a conversation with the group about it,” I said. “Kaiyr spreads the gear, minus anything too bloody to be salvaged, out onto the table. I’m going to have sent the wererats away to do other chores, so this is a
private
meeting.” I leaned forward emphatically.

“Door’s closed,” Dingo said, giving me a thumbs-up. “Got it.”

*

“These are our spoils of battle,” Kaiyr said to the other two, indicating the objects on the table before him. The pile consisted mostly of gold and silver coins, but a few weapons and simple jewelry were laid out to the side, along with a silver key. “I believe we know to which door this key belongs. Master Wild?”

Wild, who had ransacked the late Cobain’s office in the hopes of finding a key to match the brass lock, shook his head. “No luck.”

The blademaster sighed. “We shall have to sort that out later. In any case, these are the spoils to which we are entitled. We shared in the danger equally, and so we each should receive an equal share of these goods.”

Wild looked askance at Kaiyr. “But… you don’t seem the type to obsess over treasure, Master Kaiyr.”

The blademaster shook his head. “I am indeed not. But currency such as this we can spend to better prepare ourselves for future dangers, the better to protect those we must defend. I have taken naught from the abbey, as it was not our foe; what you see before you was culled only from that which I found on the bodies of our fallen enemies.”

Wild nodded his head. “That sounds fair.”

“We can split the gold evenly,” Kaiyr said, “after subtracting the approximate market value of any miscellaneous objects to which any of us may lay claim. I do not care whether I take less than my share of this pile, but I do not wish to wound your sensibilities by taking more than what is mine.”

The other two, unable to find fault with his reasoning or scruples, agreed with the blademaster’s words, and they evenly split the small hoard of treasure. Cobain had not been a poor man, and the party agreed to pawn the false priest’s more expensive possessions when they went to town the next day.

That was something about which Kaiyr was adamant. “It is our duty,” he said after the party had put away their shares of the treasure, “to report this occurrence of lycanthrope to the local authorities. I hope they can find another—real—cleric to staff this abbey.”

Wild nodded his agreement, still trying to figure out how the blademaster had so deftly caused his share of the booty to disappear, tucking it into what must have been secret pockets everywhere in his sleeves and inside the torso of his robes. Kaiyr seemed to notice the halfling’s scrutiny, and Wild made as if tracking and clapping a flying insect between his hands. “Damn. Missed.”

A short-lived expression of amusement crossed Kaiyr’s features. Turning back to Caineye, he added, “Unless you have a desire to run this abbey, Master Caineye. You did mention that you worship Alduros Hol, as well.”

Caineye shrugged, seeming uncomfortable. “I don’t exactly worship,” he said. “I serve in His name. But Alduros Hol is not the be-all, end-all of the natural world. I serve Him, yes, but I also serve all the other powers of nature.”

“Very well. Then, on the morrow, let us travel to Viel once more and alert the authorities. Then we should return and await Lady Astra’s arrival.”

“What if she doesn’t show up?” Wild asked, inspecting one of the coins he’d just gotten.

Kaiyr gave the halfling a ghost of a serene smile. “In that case, another path will open up to us, Master Wild,” he replied. He left them mystified, rising and leaving to take his rest without another word.

VI.

Kaiyr, Wild, Caineye, and Vinto arrived in Viel about noon of the following day. The wererats had been cooperative and nothing less than congenial to the party. Wild didn’t quite trust them, but he kept faith in Kaiyr’s judgment, especially after the blademaster had taken each of the lycanthropes aside and held a brief, private conversation with them. All of them had walked out of the room shaking but glowing with newfound respect.

“But I still don’t like this idea,” Wild said, “of waltzing in here and announcing the presence of werewolves to the local authorities. Seriously, judging by the corpses in the cellar, Cobain had been here for about a month. Don’t you think someone would have noticed when the old staff suddenly disappeared, and Cobain and co. took over?”

Kaiyr looked down at the short fellow. “Master Wild, it is not my intention to force you to remain with me if you do not feel my actions wise. The same goes for you, Master Caineye. I feel this is my duty; whether or not you take up this responsibility is entirely your decision.”

Wild stopped walking, and the others paused to look back at him. “I’ve trusted your intuition a lot, Master Kaiyr. But right now, mine’s screaming at me to get the hell out of here and never look back. Why don’t you do things your way, and I’ll do things mine? I’m not so great at direct confrontation, but I can keep an eye on things where said things can’t keep their eyes on me.”