by Andrew Rowe
Grinning, Garrick stood up and pointed a thumb outside the tent. “Oh, and one of you is going to have to carry the pennant.”
Taelien rolled his eyes. At least we don’t need to wear full helms.
When each of the candidates was done being suited, the squires brought each of them a broader sword belt designed to be worn around their armor. Taelien unfastened the Sae’kes from his usual belt and attached the scabbard to his new belt alongside the standard steel sword it already carried.
“That’s fine if you want the extra weight,” Torrent said, “But if you should encounter any ‘surprises’ along your journey, make sure to use the standard issue sword.”
Oh, we’re going to be ambushed as part of the test. Guess these standard swords are blunted? Got it.
Taelien nodded in understanding. That also helps to explain the armor – they couldn’t hope to maintain barriers on us for this long of a trip, but a solid suit of armor should keep us safe from whatever practice weapons they plan to use on us.
Now fully armored and wearing the sigils of the Tae’os Pantheon, Taelien felt a stirring of pride looking at his comrades. We finally look like paladins. Just a little longer and we’ll finally earn our place among them.
***
Taelien’s brief enthusiasm about his gleaming suit of armor quickly diminished as each step of the trail rubbed his gambeson against the bandages on his chest. When I finish my training, I’m going to get my armor adjusted for a looser fit.
His next thought was, of course, that he could do that himself with a mere instant of effort – but using sorcery to loosen his armor felt somewhat like cheating.
Or maybe just using all the skills at my disposal.
He shook his head, resolving himself to go at least a day without changing the armor – both to save his pride and to give himself a chance to recover from the exertions of the last test. A nose bleed from the overuse of sorcery was never a good sign.
Exhaustion began to take its toll long before the day ended. The forest’s beauty was a brief distraction, but Velas led them at a rapid pace, wanting to ensure that they beat their requisite time with days to spare. Taelien agreed with the strategy, even if his injury didn’t. They had little idea of what complications awaited them – and he suspected that a simple sparring match on the road would be the least of their worries.
Landen was carrying the pennant, which displayed the symbol of the god of travel. He occasionally waved it from side to side, seeming enthusiastic to have the role of standard-bearer in spite of his lack of any audience. “When do you suppose they’ll hit us? I’m thinking toward one of the middle shrines, once we’ve gotten complacent.”
Velas ran a hand through her hair, frowning as she got her fingers caught in a tangle. “From the way things have been going? They’ll probably have a test at every shrine. If nothing else, the instructors like to be fucking thorough.”
Taelien twisted to adjust his armor slightly, but it did little to ease the pressure. “Think they’ll be subtler than that. The instructors know better than to come across as predictable at this point.” As they continued to walk, he caught sight of something ahead on the road.
A silver-haired man was kicking the side of a fallen cart, a dislodged wheel clearly visible a few feet away. Assorted bags were strewn on the opposite side, having apparently fallen from the top of the cart when it had toppled. A pair of horses were lashed to the front, stamping impatiently. The cart itself was relatively small and uncovered, which looked somewhat unusual for a single traveler outside of a city.
Okay, I take it back. This is pretty much the least subtle test I’ve ever seen.
Velas took one look at the situation and sighed loudly.
The man looked up at the sound of their approaching footsteps. His mismatched grey and blue clothes were simple traveling fare accented by a grey hat with a single white feather. His immaculately trimmed silver beard and flowing hair hinted at a higher social class than a simple traveling merchant. “Oh, paladins! Thanks to the makers – I was quite nearly trapped here. Didn’t realize how muddy the sides of the road were getting.”
He stepped away from the cart, patting one of his horses as he approached. “Forgive me for presuming – would you be willing to help a weary man on his way?”
Velas stepped out in front of the group. “Of course. We’d be glad to assist you.” She turned toward the others. “Taelien, Asphodel, you’re with me. Landen, you’re on lookout.”
The older man just smiled – if he understood the implication of setting a watch, he said nothing.
A quick glance didn’t reveal any ambushers on the sides of the road, but something itched at the back of Taelien’s mind. He moved with Velas to reattach the wheel. To his surprise, the older man walked with them, wandering to within reach. A bad tactic if the man is bait – he would have been wiser to wait and watch from a distance.
Reattaching the wheel took mere moments – it wouldn’t have taken long even for one of the three. “Ah, to have the strong back of youth again.” The silver-haired man smiled, folding his hands together as the wheel fell into place. “Now comes the more challenging part.”
Taelien and Velas moved to the opposite side of the cart to lift, while Asphodel gripped where the wagon had lost the wheel to help stabilize it.
“Lift,” Velas instructed. Taelien strained, feeling the cart move immediately. Within moments, it had been righted.
Once the cart was stable, Taelien scanned from side to side, but there was still no sign of theatrical assassins. Landen caught his gaze and gave him a shrug.
“Thank you kindly, lasses and lads. Afraid I don’t have much that would be likely to interest a group of paladins such as yourselves.” He reached down, beginning to lift his fallen bags, and nodded in gratitude when Taelien moved to assist him. As they worked, the older man’s eyes caught sight of the hilt at his side, widening in surprise. “Oh, my blessed stars. Is that blade what it looks like?”
Oh, here comes the hook. I suppose I’ll bite.
“To the best of my knowledge, sir. It was left to me as a child – I don’t know why.”
The man finished lifting his last bag, turning back to Taelien and narrowing his eyes. “Ah, you must be Salaris, then.”
Taelien stepped back – if an attack was coming, that was probably the cue.
But the old man made no hostile gestures; he simply smiled and lifted a hand to his chin, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “What a strange wind that carried you into my path so soon. Orin has been encouraging me to visit you for some time, but I felt it was too soon.”
“You know Commander Dyr, sir?” Velas asked, leaning against her staff, a quizzical expression on her face.
“Oh, aye, I’ve known Orin since he was just a boy. Much as I’ve known this child,” the older man said, waving at Taelien. “Though I told his parents to spell his name differently – they missed the point entirely. It was supposed to be ‘Sae’, with an ‘e’, like the sword’s name.”
Taelien raised a hand to rub his forehead, understanding finally reaching him. “You’re Erik Tarren.”
“Quite right, quite right. You’ve grown quite a bit since I last saw you.” He glanced toward Landen. “And you as well, young master Theas.”
Landen folded his arms. “I don’t go by that name any more, Master Tarren.”
The older man waved a dismissive hand. “No need to call me ‘master’, Larkin, you never studied with me. Although I do think I might have had more success at teaching you than Hartigan did. You - and the rest of you – may simply call me Erik.”
I…It’s really…
Taelien had a life’s worth of questions to ask, but his mouth felt suddenly dry.
Velas folded her hands in front of her. “Not to be rude, Erik, but we’re in the midst of a test. If you’re a part of that test, by all means, test us – but if not we should be on our way”
“A test, eh? No, no testing for me. One of your advancement t
ests?”
Velas shook her head. “I should have mentioned this before, but we’re not quite paladins yet – we’re taking a placement exam of sorts.”
“Oh, of course, I’m familiar. I haven’t been a part of one in many years – so, no, I’m not a part of your test.”
Landen furrowed his brow. “You’re just walking in the middle of nowhere when you’re the most famous master of teleportation sorcery on the continent. Call me somewhat skeptical, Erik.”
The older man sighed. “Believe what you want to, Larkin. You did me a kindness, test or not, and I thank you for it. In regards to my sorcery, I could quite obviously have teleported directly to Velthryn – but then I would not have walked this path and learned its ways.”
Taelien nodded at that. “You need to see a location to know how to teleport there in the future, unless you have a beacon.”
“Quite right. I am pleased to see your parents had you educated, even if they did not name you quite correctly.”
Velas scratched the back of her head. “As interesting as it is to meet a legendary sorcerer, we do have a limited amount of time—”
“Yes, yes, of course. Be on your way – I would not want to infringe on your testing any more than I already have.”
Taelien frowned, shaking himself out of his paralysis. “Wait – I have questions.”
Tarren smiled at him. “Ah, yes. Orin said as much. But are you sure we should be delaying your friends?”
“I’ll catch up.”
Velas frowned, folding her arms. “Taelien, now is not the –”
“Talking to Erik is half the reason I’m taking this test in the first place. I don’t want to be rude, Velas, but – wait. Better idea.” He shook his head. “Landen, do you still have the map?”
Landen shrugged. “Of course.”
“Erik, would you be willing to teleport us a short way toward our next destination after we’re done talking?”
The older man smiled and nodded. “Of course. You saved me hours – it would be quite fair for me to do the same for you.”
Taelien glanced at Velas. “Would it be acceptable for me to spend a bit of time talking to Erik if –”
“Shit, yes, if he can save us hours of walking, you talk as much as you want. We’ll even give you two some privacy.”
Taelien took a deep breath of relief. “Thank you, Velas.”
“You could call me ‘ma’am. I’d like that.”
Taelien rolled his eyes. “Thank you, ‘ma’am’.”
“Ooh, I could get used to that. Asphodel, Landen, come on. Let’s go sit over there.”
The silver-bearded man frowned. “Landen? Is that his new name?”
Taelien nodded. “He’s been going by that for as long as I’ve known him. Which, I admit, hasn’t been all that long – maybe a year.”
“I’m glad to see he has good companions. His life was a lonely one as a youth.” Erik folded his arms. “But I suspect that’s far from your mind. I’ve been quite rude – I know you’ve been seeking me for some time, but I never sent a reply to any of your messages. It would seem that fate has forced the issue.”
Taelien folded his arms. “Why were you avoiding me? Even if you didn’t want to come meet me in person, you could have sent Orin something a little less evasive.”
“I could have, I could have. But there were risks, you see. Risks that we are taking by speaking even now. Your life is one that will be carefully watched and with great interest.”
Watched. The forest-eyed man.
“You believe whoever is watching me could be dangerous?” Taelien shifted his footing restlessly.
“Oh, quite. And now that we have made contact with one another, you must be vigilant in defending yourself – and those you care for.”
“I will be, but why is our meeting significant?”
“Because it will be construed as an intervention on my behalf – one I should not be taking. Beings as old as I must abide certain rules.”
“Because you’re immortal?”
“Among other things. But you dance around the questions you wish to ask – ask them.”
Taelien nodded. “Who am I, and who were my parents?”
“Good. I can tell you only what I know – and I fear it may not be enough for you. You were given to me by a man I knew as Vel. You would know him best as Aendaryn, the god of blades.”
Taelien drew in a sharp breath, his right hand moving over his chest.
“I do not know if he was your father. When he came to me, he was badly injured – perhaps fatally. I do not know if he survived. He bid me take you, along with his legendary blade, and run. And so I did.” The older man sighed, casting his gaze at the dirt. “Perhaps I should have kept you and raised you, as he undoubtedly wished. But that would have meant years of running – years of fear. I doubt my heart could have withstood that, and fear should not be a child’s first memory.”
“So you gave me away.” Taelien closed his eyes.
“To my great shame, I did. I knew a family that had long sought a child of their own – and so I brought you to them. A gift and a curse. And from that point, you know as much as I.”
Taelien shook his head, opening his eyes. “And of my true mother? Aendaryn said nothing?”
“To be clear, he said little beyond ‘take the boy and run. Give him this when he is ready.’ I can presume that if he is the father, his wife was the mother – a simple enough equation. Vel was a loyal man, and quite deeply in love.”
Aendaryn was married?
The swordsman gave Tarren a quizzical look. “I’ve never heard anything about Aendaryn being married.”
“Of course not. Because Karasalia refused to join the Tae’os Pantheon.” The old man sighed, seeming to deflate somewhat. “Perhaps if she had, things would have gone differently. But I cannot put any blame on Kara – in fact, perhaps she was right all along.”
“Right? About what?”
“I stray into dangerous topics, Salaris. Ones we should not speak of now – but there will be time later. We have seen one another now, and the wheel has been spun. Should you survive the coming days, seek me out at Winterspire Mountain. There, I will teach you more.”
Taelien frowned. “Where is Winterspire? I’ve never heard of that.”
“Far to the north. Your Delaren friend will know the place. I have a home in Willsbrooke, a small town near the base of the mountain. This is not another test, I assure you – it will be easy to find, though the journey may be long.”
“Would it not be easier to simply meet me in Velthryn? I should be headed there after I finish here.”
“By the time you finish your tests, I will have likely come and gone. I cannot tarry away from Winterspire for long.”
Taelien rubbed his head. Was this it? He was certain he had more questions – so many more questions. But the weight of the greatest answer had pushed them beneath the surface of his mind.
“We should go see your friends – we’ve been rude in keeping them waiting so long, and any advantage I give you is rapidly diminishing.”
But..wait..I…
“I suppose you’re right,” he heard himself say, though they were not the words he wished to speak. Erik nodded once, turning to head toward where the other candidates awaited them a short distance down the road.
Taelien found himself paralyzed for several more moments before he finally raised his hand. ‘Wait.”
Erik turned his head. “Hrm?”
“I have a question for a friend. Do you know anything about a woman named Lydia Hastings? Or her mother, perhaps, Maya Hastings? She –”
Erik recoiled as if struck. “Lydia…? You know – of course you would. I have been inattentive for too long.”
Well, that wasn’t vague or anything.
“So, you know her.”
Tarren nodded. “Yes. And you are kind to ask about your friend – but her answers must not come from you. I will speak to her when it is the proper time.”
The older man stood up straighter, and for an instant, the light of the forest seemed to swell around him. “Do not presume to judge me, boy. You are right to ask questions, but you do not know me. And your arrogance tries my patience.”
Taelien was not cowed by the display, but he recalled Garrick’s earlier words. You have a problem, Taelien. A consistent problem. You always want to solve everyone else’s problems for them.
Gritting his teeth, Taelien nodded. “I apologize. And thank you for the answers you have given me.”
Tarren nodded. “Good. I accept your apology, and I will expect better of you in the future. Now, you were asking a question on behalf of Lydia Hastings. Is she within the city of Velthryn now?”
Better. “To the best of my knowledge, she should be. Ask at the citadel – they should know where to find her.”
An odd expression crossed Tarren’s face. Confusion, perhaps. “She is a paladin, then, or a priestess?”
“A paladin. Of Sytira.”
The grey haired man chuckled, stroking his beard. “Ah, yes. Sytira. Of course she would be.” Shaking his head, Tarren gestured for Taelien to follow, and this time he complied. “Come, let us meet with your friends. It is past time for you to be on your way.”
They found the others just a moment ahead on the road, barely out of sight from the cart.
Velas looked up, smirking. “Gods, that took you long enough, Sal. I was about ready to take a nap.”
“Forgive the delay, miss. Taelien had many pertinent questions for me.”
“Oh? You tell him how to get his sword to work?”
Taelien blinked. The sword. Of course I should have asked him about the sword.
Also that was probably a euphemism. But resh it, she’s right, I should have asked him about the Sae’kes.
Tarren turned his head toward Taelien. “You have been having some difficulty in wielding the Sae’kes?”
