25

On the Trail

‘When he told me he was “sending help,” I wasn’t expecting it to be you.’

‘Vhat vere you expecting exactly?’ The mercs greeted with a grip of each other’s wrists. ‘You send regular troops, and Phaos sees it as a declaration of war. You send a few mercs, it seems they vere just attacked by wandering banditry.’

‘We get paid, have some fun, and nobody asks any questions. Just how I like it.’

‘You two know each other?’ Caspar asked, sat on a wall and watching the two of them.

‘We trained at Rauvin together.’ Ludgar hoisted up his belt and ensured he well attached the scabbard to it. Belfry took notice of it.

‘You still carry that old blade?’

‘This thing?’ He took the blade from its sheath and held it up to the light. His uncle’s sword. It gleamed a little less, its edge was a little dulled, and it held no fancy guard, pommel, or grip. It was as serviceable as a blade could be in every way.

He tossed it to Belfry, who deftly snatched it from the air and regarded its edge, weight, and how it felt in his hand. ‘Not bad. Could use a little vork, but it feels just as it did when Kyngstone used it.’ He brought the blade back to Ludgar and slid it into his scabbard for him. ‘You vield it vell.’

‘Please tell me, what is that accent?’ Kathiya asked, seeming far more interested than she would have liked to have shown.

‘Ah, this? I must admit, I have been in Asterport for quite some time, so I have lost much of it. I hail from a place called Vlasavia, far to the north-west. It’s a League region bordering on Phaos territory.’

‘Vlasavia is such a wonderful place.’ Sethel placed himself between Belfry and Kathiya, which mildly annoyed her. ‘Beautiful winters there, and the bloodflowers bloom wonderfully.’

‘You know of Vlasavia?’

‘It’s always my business to know where the best ingredients are for a good paralysis potion. But that’s not all we know that region for, am I correct?’

‘You speak of Lady Dhaliana.’

‘Of course he does!’ Ludgar joined in. ‘Everyone wants to know of the illustrious lady of mystery.’

‘And a mystery she vill remain. Even in my time growing up there, I never once laid eyes on her. The same for everyone else in my home country.’ A disappointing and completely expected end to that conversation. Caspar chose not to push it further.

There were other assorted mercs in this newly formed group. A middle-aged jackal, a younger hyena from the far southern reaches, and a rather silent bull though large in stature. A particularly rough looking buffalo leered uncomfortably at Ves’sa. She made no response. Either she didn’t take notice, or she simply did not care.

Overall, it brought their company to ten people. With weapons set, provisions bought, and bloodlust palpable, they set out on their next contract.

So they walked. And without traulls, of course. They crossed the golden countryside and walked the vast farmlands, quaint villages, and rolling hills.

They passed the remains of long dead settlements from long dead civilizations which Sethel pointed out with exhaustive detail. For all they knew, he could be lying completely, and they would have no idea.

‘This appears Ausian in architecture. An old watchfort. They would fire arrows at the farmers who weren’t working, weren’t working hard enough, or if they were just bored. Wonderful civilization. I wonder why it died.’

‘I can never tell if you’re bullshitting us or not.’ Ludgar turned to the quiet bull sitting among them. ‘No offence.’

He responded with a silent hand wave.

They decided to set up camp here. The ruins provided some form of shelter, and a nearby river would be great for cleaning, refilling their water supplies, and maybe catching the odd fish.

‘I’m still surprised you managed to form a company in the first place, given the vay you treat them.’ Belfry’s advice had been important to Ludgar’s uncle, and it helped win many important battles throughout their career. It’s a shame Ludgar never listened.

‘I resent that. I treat my company as well as I would treat anyone else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can convince Caspar to eat this pinecone.’

He wandered off, leaving Belfry to sit with two of the most silent people he had ever met. One sat in quiet contemplation, as one would when there is simply nothing to say. The other sat in silent rage, like any ill-advised word could set her off and ensure a sudden end, or just give her the excuse to. He knew her as Ves’sa, and that was about it. Quiet, angry, and frighteningly competent. She constantly adjusted her bow strings and sharpened her blades, like a coiled spring, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

‘Hey, Caspar!’ They heard from afar. ‘Bet you can’t eat this pinecone!’

Then there was a single, painful crunch.

‘Ha ha, wow! In just one bite!’

He sat closer to her, but not so close to be in blade range.

‘You seem… out of place among Ludgar and his crew.’

She continued sharpening in tense silence, each stroke of the whetstone firm and gentle against the blade’s edge.

‘There are far better options for one vith talents such as yours.’

‘No.’

The single word surprised him. It was the first time he heard her speak. A voice as sharp and deadly as her now sharpened short-sword. A perfect fit.

‘... Are you sure? Your skills seem completely vasted vith-’

‘No.’ The word cut through, as emotionless as before. Only this time, her cold, stern eyes were upon him.

‘But I...’

Her stare said more than any word could.

He decided to leave her to her maintenance. There were some fights that you just couldn’t win. The lizard seemed much more reasonable. It was quite rare to get a mage as a merc, so this was an opportunity he didn’t want to waste.

He found the mage feverishly inspecting the ruins, scribbling illegible notes into one of his many notebooks.

‘I never got your name before. You must be the one known as Sethel’

‘Yes, sometimes.’

‘So,’ he sat himself down on a waist-high wall and leant forward on his cane, ‘what exactly are we expecting here?’

‘To answer that, I’ll have to start where it started: the beginning. According to the Song of Phaos, when the universe was young and unformed, a form of great light shined upon the barren worlds.’

‘No vait, I just vanted to know vhat ve vould be up agai-’

‘This is all according to the Choir of Phaos, anyway. The infinite form split itself into uncountable pieces, but it’s infinite so it’s not really a split, and spread itself throughout the universe. The form then gave life to the individual planets.’ Sethel began etching a rough diagram on the ruin’s wall with a piece of chalkstone.

‘So is it Phaos or some other entity?’

‘Yes.’

‘It is?’

‘No.’

‘It’s not?’

‘No.’

‘No it’s not or are you saying I’ve got it wrong?’

‘Yes... The Phaos Choir had a disagreement with the Choir of Phaos and they split off. The Choir says the entity is Phaos, which the Choir says it is not. Then the Adraelic Song of Phaos took the position saying both interpretations are correct, before they split into the Separatist Choir of Phaos. Now, what was I saying? Oh yes! This created the great skyworm which crashed into a floating rock and died. This made our planet and all life. Then Phaos gave some of those creatures the gift of magic and we were formed. Unless you follow the Heavenly Adraelic Song of Phaos which states the Prophet of Phaos granted us magic. The Heavenly Adraelic Seperatist Music of Heavenly Phaos rejects this and states Phaos was neither Prophet nor entity and still isn’t fully sure what Phaos is, till they became the Divine Heavenly Adraelic Separatist Music of the Choir of Heavenly Phaos, where they still haven’t given an answer, despite the letters I keep sending.’

Belfry blanked on most of that, so he said the first thing that came into his head. ‘It sounds like they really like their songs.’

‘Music is heresy in Phaos.’

‘Oh.’

Sethel finished the diagram, and it looked more like the impressions you would get from abandoned paints and a child that has discovered they are currently unsupervised.

‘This doesn’t look like anything.’

‘What?’ He pointed to the mass of squiggles on the wall. ‘How can you not understand? It makes perfect sense!’

If there were fights you just couldn’t win, this was once where even engaging was a heavy defeat.

The only ones left of Ludgar’s sorry band were the cat and the fox. A thief is always nice to have on hand, but she seemed way too close with Ludgar for him to recruit her. The fox, while strong, felt far too young for the type of work he had planned, plus he was busy pulling bits of pinecone out of his teeth and Belfry didn’t want to talk to him while that was happening.

‘How d'you get that one?’

‘Battle of Ospia Pass. Wore heavy armour for that. Spear went right between the plates. Haven’t worn plate mail since.’

‘And this one?’

‘Ambushed outside a tavern in Oldtown. Me against three guys. One got me when I turned my back. Haven’t forgotten that lesson.’

‘What about that one?’

He stretched around to look at where she was pointing. A pink line etched into his fur, just behind his hip. ‘Huh. Don’t even remember getting that one.’ He finished up cleaning himself in the river and slid his shirt back on. Kathiya sat cross-legged atop a rock and watched as everyone cleaned what they could, filled flasks, and prepared for the next leg of the journey.

They saw Belfry chatting comfortably among the rest of the hired mercenaries, telling of old war stories and getting a few laughs.

‘Strange. I never thought I’d see such a charismatic merc.’

‘He’s always been a charmer, that one.’

‘It’s the accent; it’s rather enchanting.’

‘Really? I’ve always seen it as odd.’

‘You wouldn’t understand. I need someone who does.’ She looked around at all the smelly men trying to clean themselves as best they could, given their equipment, the river, and the fact that they’d be smelly again in a few minutes. ‘It’s a shame we don’t really get many women as mercs.’

‘I’d say it’s not really a woman’s profession, but that’s not completely true. There’s a lot of female mercs, it’s just that there’s a hell of a lot more who are male. Why? Does it bother you?’

‘Not really, no. But it’d just be nice for someone to talk to on a more... connected level, if you get what I mean.’

‘What about Ves’sa?’

‘Oh, I do. Quite a bit, actually. She just doesn’t talk back. A conversation is supposed to be a two-person exercise, you know.’

‘I think Sethel and his plants would disagree.’

‘Heh, maybe. Still, I can’t tell if she enjoys our talks, or if she merely tolerates them.’

‘I’m sure you’d know if she didn’t like it. It’d be swift and sharp, but you’d know.’

They watched from a short distance up the river as Ves’sa washed herself where she could, apathetic to the leering eyes of the other mercs. They watched as her eye caught movement in the shallow waters. She took an arrow from her nearby quiver, and in a single motion, struck deep into the current. She raised it, and a juicy fish struggled on the end of it.

‘I love a girl who can hunt.’ The buffalo came up from behind her, and he began unbuckling his belt. The other mercs laughed on, an obvious sign of encouragement. These men probably haven’t been around female mercs. Maybe not even females in general.

The arrow twirled between her fingers, and in a movement as sharp as when she caught the fish, she pointed straight at the area he was unbuckling.

‘Put it away or lose it.’

He begrudgingly obliged and stepped back, tail metaphorically between his legs, since buffalo tails aren’t that long, lest his valuable area ends up like the fish.

‘You see that?’ Kathiya said, pointing in their direction. ‘That’s what I’m talking about! That’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak, and it’s in relation to removing someone’s genitals!’

‘Maybe you’re looking at it all wrong. Maybe some things just don’t need to be said. Anyway,’ he said with a stand and a stretch of his back, bones and cartilage comfortably clicking, ‘we’d better get moving while the sun’s still shining.’ The mercs packed their gear and continued onward, further into the League territory.

It appeared as unassuming as it could get. A simple crack in a cliff-face that was just big enough for a normal sized person to squeeze through.

It would have been completely unassuming, if not for Kathiya pointing out the tracks left outside the opening.

Below that, water poured from somewhere deep in the cliff-side and fell into the canyon far below.

‘This looks like the place. You think we’re ready?’ Kathiya asked.

‘If the information Lord Davik gave us is right, then we’re more ready than they should be.’ The crew looked itching for a fight. It had been a few days of rather monotonous travel, and Ludgar would much prefer it if they took out their frustrations on some unsuspecting exemplars and paragons instead of each other.

‘Kathiya, you scout ahead, stick to the shadows. Don’t engage.’

‘Got it.’

‘Let’s do some dungeon crawling.’