by Jeff Wilcox
“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, una
ble 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.”
“Subterfuge,” Kaiyr said, his voice even. “Very well. Take care of yourself, Master Wild.”
The halfling nodded. “You, too, Blademaster.” The halfling darted into an alley and disappeared into the shadows.
“I’ll go with you,” Caineye offered. “I consider this my duty, as well, considering we still need to find someone to staff the abbey now that Cobain’s dead.”
“Very well,” Kaiyr said, frowning in the direction of Wild’s last visible position. He strode serenely down the street, his robes swaying gently with every step.
They found the constable after a few friendly townsfolk pointed them in the right direction. Meeting in front of the town’s abnormally large barracks, the human constable eyed the unusual pair with suspicion evident in his gaze.
“You said there’s a problem at the abbey in the northwest?” the constable said at length.
“Yes.”
He motioned for the two of them to join him. “Come on in. We can discuss this in the comfort of chairs, at the very least.”
The elf, druid, and wolf followed the armored man inside. Vinto earned himself some suspicious glares merely for being a wolf, but all the soldiers understood that as long as the beast did not make any kind of scene, it was to be allowed inside. Besides, none of them really wanted to take on a fully-grown wolf. He had way too many sharp teeth.
Once they were all seated at a table, Kaiyr and Caineye told the constable about the events that had transpired two nights ago. The tale took up the better part of half an hour, and when the two were finished, the constable sat back, reeling at the news. “Werewolves and wererats?” he asked, shaking his head. “I… well.” He glanced at the door. “I think I need something to drink—something strong. Can I get either of you two anything?”
“No, thank you,” replied the blademaster, and he was echoed by Caineye.
The constable left, and Caineye turned to Kaiyr. “He seemed really distraught.”
“It is understandable,” Kaiyr replied. “Were I in his position, I would have been shocked into a similar silence.” He stopped speaking, suddenly listening intently to something the druid could not hear. The sound of many booted feet approaching met his ears, and the blademaster rose with a start, knocking his chair out behind him. His soulblade flashed into his hand as he shouted to Caineye, “We are in danger!”
The door flew open to reveal the constable leading a score of soldiers who quickly filed into the room. Both the druid and blademaster found several crossbows and spears aimed at them. Vinto snarled at the soldiers as Caineye weighed his options.
“You put yourselves in danger by meddling in affairs you do not understand,” the constable corrected Kaiyr. “You are under arrest. Give yourselves up.”
The two beleaguered companions traded glances briefly, and both shook their heads. Kaiyr let his soulblade fade away. “Very well. You have us.”
The constable smirked as he ordered his men to divest the adventurers of their—few—weapons, gleefully announcing that they would be hanged as soon as the gallows was prepared, likely the very next morning.
After being bound with rope, Kaiyr and Caineye were shoved roughly out the door. “Looks like Wild was right,” Caineye lamented in Sylvan.
“Silence!” shouted one of the soldiers, clocking the druid in the back of the head. Caineye jerked forward but kept walking, shooting Kaiyr a glance that told the blademaster he was worried, afraid, and now angry. Kaiyr merely blinked serenely, ever stoic.
Upon arriving at the prison, the soldiers led the captives a short way into the building and shoved them unceremoniously into separate cells. Vinto snapped at their captors when they kicked him hard enough to knock him into Caineye’s cell. “You’ll be paying the price, too, mutt,” growled the guard, slamming the barred door shut. Somewhere toward the front of the hallway, the sound of a lever being pulled echoed throughout the building, and locking bars snapped into place over the doors. Kaiyr recognized the dark material to be an adamantine alloy, thus dashing any hopes of forcing his way out. The only light in the cell came in from a high window that told Kaiyr these cells were partially underground.
“Brilliant,” Caineye grumbled in Sylvan. Kaiyr could hear him struggling to sit up, hands still bound behind his back. “Well, this is just great.”
“Peace, Master Caineye,” Kaiyr replied calmly in a whisper just loud enough to carry it through his open-barred door and around the corner to his comrade’s cell. His eyes scanned the room, analyzing every crack in an attempt to find any weaknesses to exploit.
He heard Vinto’s snarl from Caineye’s direction, followed by the sound of ropes creaking and snapping. “Thanks, friend,” the druid murmured.
Kaiyr followed suit, concentrating for a moment before manifesting his soulblade. The weapon
, his spirit, formed with its blade already slicing through the tough hemp rope, and with a subtle shrug of his shoulders, Kaiyr was free and on his feet, inspecting the room even more closely.
“How can you be so calm right now?” Caineye asked, though his voice was under control.
Kaiyr tapped his finger against the adamantine bars. “Our smaller comrade placed his trust in me. It is my turn to have faith in him.” Tugging slightly at the other bars, ones made of common steel, he grimaced. “Alas, were I but as spiritually powerful as my father. We would be out of this predicament in but a moment.”
“What do you mean?”
A smile graced the blademaster’s face. “I have seen blademasters carve through trees and rocks with single strokes of their spirits. My father told me stories, as well. He once cut through a collapsed tunnel in a matter of moments to save his friends. Walls have little meaning to a true blademaster whose spirit burns with righteous wrath.”
“True blademaster?”
“I am but a child among my people, Master Caineye. I may be several times your age, but I am still a child in the eyes of the elves. My… journey is one that, should I complete it, will mean I will truly be a blademaster.”
The clanking of a soldier’s armor heralded the approach of a guard. He leered through the bars into both cells. “You two’d better stop gibbering in your language and shut the hell up, or me and Oswald’re going to come and make you shut up. Got it?”
Kaiyr fell silent and stared into the other man’s eyes, fixing him with his severe gaze. He said nothing, and the guard, seeming unsettled, harrumphed and returned whence he came.
Squatting down and drawing his robes up about him to keep them out of the refuse on the floor, Kaiyr closed his eyes and let his thoughts fall into the well of his own mind. He could hear Caineye trying to continue their conversation in a whisper, but, not wanting to arouse the ire of the guards, Kaiyr did not respond. The druid, frustrated with Kaiyr’s silence, finally gave up and let out a sigh that Vinto echoed.
