by Philip Smith
Next to him, standing easily two feet taller than Robert, was a man with a set of broad shoulders and a thick waist like a boulder of granite. The gentleman wore a short-sleeved, double-linked chainmail halbert that Paige was sure weighed more than her and her pack combined. The armor was pulled over a white linen gambeson, and atop both of these he had strapped on a polished steel breastplate that bore a relief of a bear holding an olive tree in its jaws and front paws. On his belt he wore a plain, simple dirk that had a cutting edge almost as long as Paige’s forearm. A small, wooden round shield with a large brass boss in the center covered his back, bearing the same heraldic symbol on his breastplate. His straight black hair was cropped close to his head except for a thin braided lock at the nape of his neck. His overall demeanor and bearing seemed pleasant enough, and as oxymoronic as it sounded in her head, Paige could think of no better description for this character aside from jovial “little giant.” He nodded at her, smiling a thin but wide grin.
The last person on the far left end of the table sat in a chair tipped on its two back legs. The heavy riding boots he wore lay propped on the ancient tabletop and were crossed lazily at the ankles. Despite his tall, lanky frame, he was well-muscled and lean. Unkempt, sandy hair fell to his collar and a scraggy shadow of a beard graced his wide smile. Prominent front teeth lent his grin a boyish look as he held Paige’s gaze. Paige noticed a scar running across the bridge of his round nose and down his left cheek almost to his jawline, which looked out of place with his softer features. He wore a forest-green tunic under a leather vest; brown breeches and knee-high boots completed the outfit. Hanging on the back of his chair were two very plain, unadorned rapiers, held there by beaten, worn leather cross belts with huge silver buckles. He looked up and tossed his head back with a laugh when he saw the pair entering the glade.
“Well, well, unless my eyes deceive me, ‘tis none other than Robert Eöl! And what be this? Has the hermit gone and gotten himself some female companionship for his wee little home?”
“Don’t go there, Duelmaster,” Robert muttered. “She might kick your—”
“I’m Paige,” she interrupted, glowering at Robert. He simply shrugged. The one Robert had called ‘Duelmaster’ plopped his legs off the table and jumped to his feet, striding over to her.
“I’ve no doubt she would, Robby, m’boy!”
The fellow tucked his shoulder-length hair back behind his ears, which Paige noticed were long and pointed like an elf’s but with three distinct points at the end that splayed like an oak leaf. Paige thought in that moment that this rugged individual was either oddly handsome or handsomely odd. Perhaps both.
Robert strode towards the table and beckoned for Paige to follow. “Now that we’ve all had a good laugh,” he said dryly, “let’s get on with introductions, shall we?” He gestured to the man who had just spoken. “You’ve just met Calebna of Stumpy’s Hollow. Around here we call him Duelmaster. Obviously, he’s cocky as a rooster, but don’t let that reflect horribly on our group; the rest of these morons will more than likely do that individually anyways. Our resident lowland giant over there is Isaac Twostaves.”
Robert then pushed Paige closer to the table and gestured to her with his free hand.
“Gentlemen, this is Paige Alwasu of Kapernaum.”
“Just Paige,” she muttered, staring as Calebna, or, what was it…Duelmaster, made a dramatic bow, pulling a tasseled cap out of his belt.
“And what could the fair maiden have come for?” he asked. “I doubt she’s here to experience my handsome company and sunny disposition, though I would believe it if she said so!” He aimed a cheeky grin at Paige, who glanced around, not knowing what to think. When Robert had said there was a “brotherhood,” she’d envisioned at least fifteen warriors in some semblance of a militia organization. They clearly had the arms for one stockpiled, but this was barely a squad of mismatched young males, let alone a band of warriors.
“She’s here for our help,” Robert said, dropping his pack next to the table. “And I called everyone here to talk it out.”
“A story? I relish in hearing!” Duelmaster said, with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “Does it include the harrowing tale that gave her royalness the Daemon’s Eye?”
Paige touched the corner of her still slightly achy eye. “Oh, well, I apparently have Broadside to thank for that.” Paige laughed. The dwarf looked confused and slightly stunned.
“What? But I never—”
He cut himself off and whirled on Robert.
“You told her I gave her that!?”
Robert looked embarrassed and slightly peeved.
“Let’s not get mired down in the details,” he muttered, shrugging the dwarf off, who in turn looked perturbed.
The other two snickered as Paige glared at Robert.
“Well, now that you are here, can we eat?” the giant Robert had called Twostaves asked, patting his breastplate impatiently. Duelmaster rolled his eyes but kept his toothy grin cracked.
“I suppose the latecomers will just have to run faster if they’re going to get any food before you inhale it, Twostaves,” the dryad said, approaching one of the barrels and cracking the lid open.
“Where are the others?” Paige whispered to Robert.
“Well, Jey is out keeping an eye on things,” Broadside said, “and I’m not sure where Din is. I thought he’d be here an hour ago.”
“So there are only five of you?”
“Well, six including Robert.” The small giant pointed a finger the size of a spear shaft at Robert.
“So only six?”
“Did you expect an army, madam?” Duelmaster asked, pulling a salted pork haunch and tossing it to Twostaves. The giant snatched it and slammed it on the old table with a resounding ‘thud’ as he pulled his dirk out and began carving slabs of the meat.
“I honestly didn’t know what to expect,” Paige admitted.
Robert laughed. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Paige.”
“No, I didn’t mean it that way!”
Robert continued chuckling as he pulled Duelmaster’s seat out and beckoned her over. She hesitated, but as soon as she saw the dryad had happily perched himself on top of the salt pork barrel, she reluctantly took the seat. Her feet sighed with relief as the pressure of walking an entire day finally lifted. She realized this was to become a feeling she would know intimately in the coming days.
Twostaves slapped some of the pork slabs onto some trenchers while Broadside tossed some cracked wheat baguettes around. Paige took the food gratefully and began munching on the salty meat, alternating bites with the chewy bread.
“So, princess,” Duelmaster asked between huge bites. “What does our holiday entail?”
“Your holiday?” Paige asked, confused.
“You aim to get us out of this state of boredom and stagnation, no?” the dryad laughed, shaking his hair out of his eyes. She thought she saw some tiny twigs caught in his tangled mane.
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it?” she stammered.
“My dear, it’s the only way to look at it!” Duelmaster laughed, almost manically. “An adventure! Finally!”
“Duelmaster, be sensible,” the giant scolded through a mouth stuffed to capacity with bread. “This is a rescue mission after all.”
Duelmaster nodded sheepishly, turning back to Paige. “I apologize, princess,” the dryad mumbled. “Do fill us in, won’t you? Broadside gave us the highlights, but if you’re able, we’d like to hear your tale as you tell it.”
Paige felt a slight lump in her throat forming, but she promised herself she wouldn’t choke in front of an entire table of evidently battle-hardened warriors. She started from the beginning, telling them everything she could remember about the day leading up to the feast and the events of that night. She almost broke when she got to the part about her parents’ deaths, but managed to take a shaky breath before continuing. The only thing she omitted from the story was the part about the leather scrol
l now bound tight to her stomach, as Robert had advised. She concluded with a plea for them to help her only family left—her sister. By the time she’d finished, all traces of a smile had vanished from Duelmaster’s face, and the dwarf and the giant seemed to have lost their appetites, staring at her with gloomy, pitying faces.
“We’re so sorry for your loss,” the dryad said, reaching out and taking Paige’s hand in both of his own. His palms were rough, filled with ridges that looked more like tree bark than fingerprints and palm lines. She smiled appreciatively.
“Well, there’s nothing for it except to bust down the gates of Aschin and get the poor princess out of that barbarous prince’s clutches!” Twostaves declared, jumping up and pounding his fist into the table so that all the wooden bowls clattered with the force.
“While I agree, I think bludgeoning down the gates is probably the worst plan we could have,” Robert said. “If we want to live to fight another day, I think stealth is our only option.”
“And for stealth, you need to know what you’re getting into,” a voice murmured from behind them. Paige turned to see the willowy figure of Jesnake flicker in the torchlight as he paced softly towards the table. His bow was unstrung and strapped into his quiver which now lay across his thin back. Broadside was quick to toss him a roll, which the elf caught deftly without so much as a sideways glance.
“Well, obviously,” Twostaves muttered, his acerbic tone dripping with every word. “So we get a map.”
“A map is only good for the landscape around a place, but to get to the princess, we’ll need a full layout of the castle’s inner sanctum, yes?”
Twostaves twisted his mouth up as he pondered this. Robert was nodding his agreement as Jesnake came around the table and leaned against the corner between Twostaves and Broadside.
“And it would appear the only person with that full layout has yet to arrive.”
“He’ll be here. You know he comes and goes as he pleases!” Broadside insisted.
“Unless he got lost,” muttered Robert. Duelmaster and Twostaves snickered.
“That was one time, and you were supposed to be the one steering the boat!” Broadside snapped. Robert rolled his eyes dismissively, but the story behind the remark now had even Jesnake chuckling softly.
“Regardless, I think it would help to have all the gear packed for when he does arrive,” Jesnake offered.
“You really so sure he’ll help?” Paige asked, hopeful.
Robert snorted. “We’ll get him to come. He’ll complain and whine a bunch, but we can get him to come.”
“Then we’d best make use of the time we’ve got!” Broadside ushered, hopping off his stool and hurrying over to a pile on the floor covered with canvas. “A pack for everyone! Chop-chop!”
“Never say ‘chop-chop’ to me again, dwarf,” Jesnake said dryly.
Broadside pulled the tarp away to reveal a pile of assorted packs. They ranged in style from small baskets with tumplines to intricate leather packs framed with hickory staves. Jesnake, Twostaves, Broadside and Duelmaster all gathered around and began picking their own packs out of the pile and then heading to the gear that lay scattered about, selecting odds and ends and stuffing them into their satchels.
Paige stood to help, but Robert told her not to worry. They wouldn’t need any help. “Perks of coming prepared,” he chuckled, settling backwards into his chair.
The rest of the Brotherhood took about half an hour to pack up gear from the various piles. Robert explained that as they raided Sharadhen outposts over the last few years, they would always haul back as much contraband as they could, just in case.
“You never know when you might need to outfit a bunch of people,” he explained. “A rebellion is useless without firepower. And it’d better be close to the firepower the enemy has, so why not take it from the enemy itself?”
“Do you think there will be a rebellion?” Paige asked, untying and retying the loose laces on her moccasin.
Robert shrugged. “I think they’d have to conquer the Wild first, which would be really hard to do, just because of how the societies out here are structured and spaced out. I think maybe someday someone will push back, and maybe even those in the heart of the empire will fight it one day, but for now it can’t hurt to stockpile if that day should ever arise.”
“They didn’t seem to have a problem taking Kapernaum,” she muttered, jerking the leather thongs on her calf tight.
“The only way I could see them pulling that off was with a well-supplied forced march,” Duelmaster added. “There’s no way they were able to cover the ground they did in the forest with a supply train behind them. They were probably running dangerously low on food by the time they got to Kapernaum.”
“They can cut roads, and then what will stop them?” Paige asked.
“Maybe us? Maybe some child who is not yet a man? There’s no way of telling,” Robert said, scratching his chin.
“Hey, that’s my bow!” Broadside shouted. He was clutching a small bow with both hands and pulling with all his might. Twostaves had it pinched between his thumb and forefinger on the other end.
“It was in the stack. Everyone knows gear in the stack is fair game!” the giant snapped.
“It’s three sizes too small for you!” the dwarf shot back.
“Four, actually.”
“Then why the bloody blazes do you want it!?”
“Because he’s acting like a child to a dwarf that’s acting like a baby,” a new voice behind them muttered.
Paige turned around. A dark figure blocked the doorway of the tree fort, leaning against a post as if he’d been watching the crew for some time. He was tall with broad shoulders and a solid frame. She couldn’t make out many of his features, yet his eyes reflected the light slightly, like Jesnake’s had earlier.
“Hey, moron,” Robert shouted. “Why not come out of the shadows? I promise you the only thing mysterious about you is why you insist on creeping about like that.”
The newcomer didn’t reply but swaggered into the dim light.
“Call it a force of habit,” he muttered.
Robert rolled his eyes. “Well, Paige, meet ‘Force of Habit,’ known by the rest of the world as Dinendale Faoris. Din, this is Paige.”
Dinendale approached the table with measured steps. He appeared to be a few years older than Paige, perhaps Robert’s age, with bold features and shaggy brown hair so dark that it almost looked black. Thick, slanted brows marked his expression, giving him a stern, serious appearance, and his hair was swept behind the tapered ears of an elf. Judging by his angular features, strapping build, and dark hair and eyes, he was no kin to her mother’s kind, but his features were not as pronounced as Jesnake’s. He seemed a somber fellow, with a reserved, closed-off posture. After imagining all he must have been through according to Robert, she could understand that. As the elf drew nearer still, she could see his eyes flashing in the firelight; a deep, dark brown, the color of a bear’s fur. Above them, adorning his head like the crown jewel of a diadem, was a web of thin, white scar tissue running from the center of his forehead down towards his left eye.
“So, then.” Dinendale directed his words at Robert, halting with his hands clasped behind his back. “I take it we’re all going on a trip?”
“You’re rather observant,” Robert said dryly. He stood and walked up to the elf, reached out and clasped Dinendale’s arm firmly. They pulled into a short embrace before turning to join the others who had abandoned their packs to come to the table.
“Dinendale, it’s been too long,” Jesnake said, embracing the fellow elf in a similar fashion as Robert had. The others exchanged the gesture till they had all made the rounds, then Dinendale sat down across the table from Paige and stared her directly in the eye.
“I was summoned here by the briefest of explanations via a pigeon to arrive and see the band is already packed and ready to leave. So tell me. Where are we going?”
“I assume you’ve heard Kapern
aum was sacked by the Sharadhs four nights ago?” Robert asked.
The elf shrugged. “I heard. You planning on moving in?”
“No. They took the chief’s eldest daughter.”
“My sister,” Paige interjected meekly. The elf’s hard, searching gaze turned to her. It was slightly unsettling, but she forged ahead. “And I need help. Your help.”
“I tend to not bother myself with crusades of revenge,” the elf said, his searching eyes scanning her warily.
