“Fizzle same,” the drite declares, offering an apple to Delvin. A chirp of surprise is caught in his throat when a tendril of magic lances off the warrior and drains the fruit of energy. “Fizzle scared. Delvin not right. Lot of aura. Not much control. Delvin okay?”
“I think the man simply needs some space,” Thomas answers, snapping his fingers to get the students running to their assignments. Dragging his chair across the stones, the tired warrior plants himself in front of Delvin. “All I’m going to say is that everyone is behind you. Shouldn’t matter if your enemy set this up to put more pressure on you. That’s their mistake. Don’t forget who raised you, Cunningham.”
“What happened to giving him space?” Nyx asks as she runs her fingers through her fiancée’s hair. A delicious surge of power runs through her body, causing her eyes to flutter rapidly. “We know you haven’t been at your best, but all of us have faith in you. This type of situation is what you were trained for, Delvin. Making a plan and leading an army like Selenia did as the Mercenary Queen. Besides, you have all of us here. We’ve defeated demons and ogres before, so you don’t have to worry about losing.”
“I don’t plan on failing,” Delvin whispers, raising his head to reveal a yellow glow around his eyes. Knuckles crack as he makes a fist and sparks come off of his fingertips. “Please take care of the wall before you continue the ritual, Nyx. Thomas will gather the strongest students to help you and Timoran. Give me some time to think because I’m bringing my family home and making our enemies pay for crossing me.”
“That reminds me. Kevin had a message for you,” Thomas mentions with a smirk. A chuckle rolls from the tall man’s throat when he remembers the veteran shouting across the battlefield. “The old bastard was screaming it as they dragged him away. He wants you to take his title. At least for this battle.”
“What does that mean?” Nyx asks, looking from one warrior to the other.
Getting to his feet, Delvin sighs and pushes his fount powers back into his core. “It means a new Mercenary King is born and itching to lead an army.”
*****
The veteran sailors grip the railings as the ship comes to an abrupt halt in front of a fallen tree. A chorus of groans and whimpers are aimed at Sari, who is standing in the crow’s nest and rolling down her sleeves. Except for the times she has been sleeping, the gypsy has pushed the ship as hard as she can without damaging the hull and masts. She looks down to see that the captain is still sleeping off a drunken stupor, the man swearing the alcohol is the only way to steady his nerves around the champion. Worried that they will be kicked off the ship, Sari creates a bridge of water to safely carry them over the tree and climbs down to the awkward celebration of the crew. Every man kisses the ship several times before getting to work on hoisting the sails and waking the snoring captain. With a garbled curse, the man rolls onto the floor and crawls to the helm, his eyes barely open. The sailors tense when they catch a strong current that jerks them forward, all of them nervous that the gypsy has taken command of the river again.
“I hope you realize that we’ll need to get another ship if we plan on leaving Freedom by water,” Kira says as her companion joins her by a collection of barrels. She rubs her stomach and pops another ginger pill, which is a strong taste she has yet to get used to. “I’ve been travelling on ships since I was a child and even my sea legs were put to the test. My stomach isn’t doing much better. How about we take it easy for a day or two before the captain drinks himself into Eporwil’s permanent embrace?”
“Sorry about that,” Sari replies, taking a seat on the railing. Unafraid of falling into the water, she swings her legs over and leans forward to enjoy the gentle breeze. “I’m worried since we haven’t heard from the others. A few doubts are eating at me too, so I want to get to Freedom and start the search. Hopefully we can finish our business then and get back to Visindor to check in on our friends. I don’t want to reunite yet, so it will have to be without them knowing we’re in the area.”
“Speaking of steps, you still haven’t told me exactly what we’re doing,” the heiress points out while watching a sailor dump water on the groggy captain. She can already feel the extra money to comfort the stressed crew disappearing from the sizeable funds in her pouch. “You’re right that the ritual will take too long and the Baron being onto the plan makes it riskier. I also agree that getting to Shayd and freeing Luke is the best course of action. Yet, I’ve no idea what Freedom has to do with any of this or how you plan on getting us across the ocean. I think it’s time for an explanation.”
Not wanting the crew to overhear their conversation, Sari leads her friend below decks to the hold. She nods her head to a sailor gathering rope and patiently waits for the stocky woman to leave. Before the gypsy can talk, a young man comes down the stairs searching for supplies to fix one of the sails. Realizing that there is no privacy, she grabs Kira by the wrist and goes back up the stairs. With a half-hearted smile, Sari trudges onto the upper deck and finds a spot at the bow where they are out of the way. Gesturing at her side, she casts a silence spell around them and meets the suspicious gaze of the nearest sailor with a smirk. The champion sits on a crate and watches how Hero’s Gate gradually appears around the distant bend. She knows that they will be stopping to resupply and considers making a quick visit to Mayor Highrider since it has been over a year since she has seen the friendly half-orc. Pulling an inked quill and some parchment out of her skirt, Sari settles for writing a note to the influential warrior. She wonders if the champions will need an army when they face the Baron, so she adds a note for her friend to be ready and that she will be speaking with Kellia Solomon as well.
“Ignoring the fact that you’re avoiding my question, do you really think you’re going to need help during the battle?” Kira asks, reading over the gypsy’s shoulder. Refusing to be left in the dark, she snatches the note and reads it over before tucking it into her sleeve. “For saviors of Windemere, you tend to ask for help a lot. I’m not trying to be insulting or snide, but it makes me wonder if there is more to your destiny than you realize. The Baron may have demons and undead on his side, which means you’ll be outnumbered. Ever consider that all of the people you’ve met during your journey are supposed to stand by you in the final battle? I mean, you already have Fizzle who isn’t a champion, so it wouldn’t be odd to discover that you need an army too. Not to mention it would give Delvin’s tactical abilities more of a purpose. I’ve always thought there was something odd about him having those natural instincts when there’s only six champions.”
“That isn’t my area of expertise,” Sari admits, the idea of putting friends in danger making her irritable. A flicker of suspicion comes over her and she cast a magic sight spell to examine her companion. “You aren’t an illusion or doppelganger. I got worried that you weren’t the real Kira Grasdon since that was very insightful. Not used to you talking like a strategist or at least an effective one.”
The heiress taps her fingers on the chain of her kusari-gama, unsure if she should take the statement as an insult or a compliment. “Unlike wandering adventurers, a merchant has a lot of time to read. Besides, this kind of reminds me of big business deals that involve more than two parties. Allies are gathered on both sides and the leaders hand off the smaller matters to their partners. Minor victories are claimed as negotiations continue, fights break out, people switch sides, and things get messy. Eventually, one side locks in the better deal because their allies were stronger than those of the enemy. I guess it makes more sense in my head. The point is that every general has an army since they can’t fight alone.”
“My head still hurts from trying to follow all of that,” Sari sheepishly admits, causing a few sailors to chuckle. Reviving the silence spell, she turns her back to the crew and gives the ship a small shove. “You want to know what I’m planning then here it is. There’s no way for us to reach Shayd and scale the cliffs. Putting other people in danger is off the table, so no big ships either. This mea
ns we need to find a backdoor, which I’m sure the Baron’s agents have been using for years. It could be a portal or a tunnel at the base of the continent, but there has to be a secret way in.”
“Then shouldn’t we visit Trinity?”
“I heard she has a kid and we’d need her to come along.”
“Maybe one of her people can help.”
“The chaos elves have been through enough.”
“Well, who else could get us in there?”
“Nimby.”
Face flushed with a surge of anger, Kira sits on the railing and makes a clicking noise with her tongue. She runs her thumb along the dull side of her kusari-gama’s blade, the digit coming dangerously close to get pierced by the tip. Taking a deep breath, the heiress relaxes and turns around to watch the snow-licked forest. A crimson unicorn gallops into view and leaps over the L’dandrin river, the creature followed by a quartet of goblins that are unable to cross. The creatures hoot at the ship in the hopes of it stopping and acting as a bridge that would allow them to continue their pursuit of the elegant beast. An array of rotten fruit flies onto the deck when the vessel goes by, the goblins eventually tossing an old saddle into the bushes and retreating back into the woods.
“You can’t tame such a wild beast. Think that goes for Nimby too,” Kira states, turning back to her companion. The sounds of Hero’s Gate meet the ship as she waves a sailor over to hand him Sari’s message for the mayor. “He tried to kill Luke and then he ran away. What makes you think he’ll help us now? For that matter, how can you find a thief who doesn’t want to be found?”
“Nimby appeared once to save Luke from his father. It wasn’t the warmest meeting since he saw me as a homewrecker,” Sari explains, tossing a gold coin to the sailor as he hurries down the gangplank. Seeing that he is about to fall, she has a wave rise up to gently carry the man to the dock. “The truth is that we don’t have any other options. The rest of the Baron’s agents are either dead, still on his side, or in hiding. Nimby is our only chance and it’s a slim one. As for finding him, we only need to think of somebody he cares about that we wouldn’t normally run into. He’d avoid anyone the champions could call on, but there has to be a single piece of his past that he’s holding onto.”
“Who could he possibly-” the heiress starts to say before a name pops into her head. “He was interested in a halfling named Myilia Sharpeye. She was on the River Scout and left the ship to work in Freedom. It’s a longshot, but she’s a good place to start. Worst case scenario is that he’s watching her and us showing up will cause him to act.”
“Preferably without violence, but I get the sense that he’d never hurt you,” the champion says, patting her friend on the shoulder. She realizes that she is grinning, which is causing the other woman to eye her with suspicion. “Not that I’m using you as a shield or bait. Though he might be more inclined to appear if he sees you’re with me. A lot of my plan involves predicting the unpredictable, which is thief speak for dumb luck and wild guesses. Speaking of which, did you pick up anything to help with one of the deadlier problems waiting for us at the end of our road?”
“Like I could simply go to a temple and ask for something to use against a former goddess?”
“Well, I need you to handle Yola Biggs while I free Luke.”
“That’s the part of this plan that I don’t like.”
“So, what did you do before we left?”
“I went to a temple and asked for something to use against a former goddess.”
“Did that work?”
Kira pats the container on her hip, the sound of clinking vials making her smile. “We’ll find out when we reach Shayd. Not much fun being left in the dark, is it, gypsy girl?”
5
With the help of Fizzle and Dariana, the students practice against illusions of the opposing army. Many of the younger warriors are scared of the imposing creatures, especially the hairy ogres that brandish clubs and charge with their horns low to the ground. The adventurers have stopped making the fake beasts roar due to the noise causing the nervous guards to repeatedly jump into action. Students who are too injured to fight help by crafting arrows for the archers and assisting the siege weapon class with the four catapults. Each of the sturdy weapons has been aimed at a different wall since nobody is sure where the next attack will come from. Piles of boulders have been put near the catapults while the teams discuss which positions will assure that the machines work as efficiently as possible. To everyone’s delight, the hole in the wall has been repaired with the menacing Sword Dragon head, which is gazing into the killing field. A group of excited gnomes stare at the giant trophy, but know that any tampering would undo the enchantments that prevent the body part from melting like Weapon Dragons are supposed to do upon death. Thomas barks orders from the damaged roof of the administrative building, the man more comfortable now that Delvin has taken command. Some of the students laugh when the sergeant instructor climbs down to argue with a dwarf who has the unfortunate task of running the forge without Duggan Ironcaster. The debate becomes more animated until the pair abruptly stop and hug, neither man noticing that Dariana is staring at them while massaging her temples.
Satisfied that everything is running smoothly, Delvin leaves the wall and heads for the stables. He is surprised to find that Jamie is not inside, the young woman having taken her father’s position as animal caretaker six months ago. He notes that the greyhounds are missing, so he assumes she has taken them out to the yard for exercise. The warrior wonders what will be done with the dogs since Clarence was one of the deceased, the sergeant instructor having raised all of the animals from pups to adulthood. Letting his mind wander, Delvin stops in front of a well-groomed horse that is a beautiful royal blue. Unfamiliar with Selenia’s newest steed, the young man grabs an apple from a barrel in the hopes of making a good first impression. He is surprised when Bolt ignores the fruit and urgently nudges his arm with its nose. The horse neighs and stomps its hooves in agitation from not seeing its rider in the last two days.
“I wish she was here too,” Delvin whispers, stroking the beast’s nose. Seeing some hay in its mane, he grabs a brush and prays Jamie does not lecture him about boundaries. “I led a barely trained army against Dawn Fangs once, so I can do this. Everyone here knows how to fight and trusts each other. My friends are with me, which means I have more to work with than simple weapons, inexperienced soldiers, and half-baked tactics. The fortifications are repaired too. So, why am I talking to a horse and hiding in the stables?”
“Because you always get nervous when you’re being judged by Selenia. That includes when she isn’t even around,” a voice says from the rafters. Theresa Marley drops to the ground and stretches, her brown tail twitching as her back pops. “Not to mention failing means the destruction of the academy and that would be entirely on your head. It’s a lot of pressure and, contrary to popular belief, you’re only human. Not like your fiancée. Definitely an interesting girl who I’m glad is on our side.”
“I had a feeling you two would get along,” the young man replies, taking a seat across from the horse. He takes a bite of the apple, earning a loud complaint from the animal until he tosses the snack into its open mouth. “Ever have a day where you feel like you can’t possibly lose and that scares you more than having doubts? All of my plans and strategies are meticulously crafted with enough flexibility to adjust them if need be. My friends and I can handle this demonic knight while the students and teachers defend the academy. Once their leaders are down, the rest of the army will be lost. I can’t find a flaw in my tactics. So, why in all of Windemere am I anxious?”
“Because Selenia trained you not to be arrogant and cocky.”
“Not openly anyway, but I’ve had my moments.”
“In that case, you’re a responsible man who takes too much blame onto his shoulders.”
“Some Mercenary King I am.”
“And the last one never beat himself up for making a mistake?”
Theresa scratches her tufted ear and temporarily loses herself in the relaxing gesture, a purr rolling from her lips. Adjusting her simple top, the calico enjoys the feeling of not having her leather armor on. She still has two daggers on her belt and three more hidden around her body, including one that she can wield with her tail. With a smile, Theresa turns her back on Delvin and gently rubs the blue horse’s neck with both hands. She climbs over the door and runs her fingers along the powerful beast’s smooth flank, tickling it in the places that Selenia normally would. Satisfied that Bolt is calm, the calico goes to the back of the pen and taps along the wall until a compartment opens. Instead of reaching inside for the bag of coins, she grabs a handful of hay and stuffs it into the hole. Part of the right hand post turns to reveal a hollow section where an old scroll is sitting. Theresa takes the parchment with her tail and returns to Delvin, who has been watching with his mouth slightly open.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to look like that when there are flies in here?” the calico teases while she plays with the lacy ribbon on the scroll. Claiming a barrel, she perches next to her old partner and anxiously twitches her ears. “I’m still surprised she trusted me with this secret, but I guess you and me having history together is what got me here. Then again, there are probably other copies scattered about the academy with a different person knowing where each one is. Never know who will be around to retrieve it and you don’t want too many people with the same secret.”
“You had my interest as soon as you went into the pen, so you can stop trying to coax a question out of me,” Delvin replies as he reaches for the scroll. The young woman hisses and bares her sharp teeth, forcing him to pull back. “Fine. I’ll play the game since I have a lot of work to do. What is that, Ms. Marley?”
Ritual of the Lost Lamb Page 10
