The Companions of Tartiël (7 page)

“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.

*

“Well, shit,” Xavier muttered. “Guess we’re staying here until Dingo lets us out.”

“Or until someone kills us,” I added helpfully, earning a glare from Xaiver’s side of the room.

“So,” Dingo said, grabbing our attention again, “that leaves us with one person left available to act.” He turned to Matt. “Wild, you see Kaiyr and Caineye get dragged to prison. Nobody seems to notice you watching, so you’re free to act.”

A wicked gleam lit Matt’s eye, eager as he was to show off his rogue’s skills. “Okay, first, I…”

*

Wild frowned at the prison, listening to the various clanking sounds emanating from within. One of the handier aspects about being the size of a human child, he mused, was that taller folk often mistook him for one. It was one of the traits about his people that let him scrutinize the premises without attracting much attention.

“Right,” he told himself, “If anyone asks, I lost my ball over there somewhere.”

It wasn’t often that Billcock Wild had had reason to help another person out of a sticky situation, especially when giving such aid might get him thrown in the slammer, too. But Blademaster Kaiyr had proven himself to be a reasonable elf, and quite interesting. Wild found himself appreciating the blademaster’s company and decided to help him out, along with the druid, who had also made himself indispensable in that nasty battle the other night.

First things first, then
, Wild decided as he headed off, ducking into the shadows of an alley running perpendicular to the prison.
Reconnaissance
.

Wild made a cautious circuit of the prison from afar, generally keeping to the opposite side of the streets running around the place and avoiding getting too near in the alleys. Outside, security was rather lax—a solid stone block did not need much in the way of protection, and anything that could pummel its way through the stone would have turned any unsuspecting guards to pulp, anyway.

Aside from the main gate and a tiny window at the top of each cell, the only other way in was a small door in the back that was locked and barred from the inside—it didn’t even have a keyhole or handle on this side.

Finally, after observing several rounds made by the watch and calculating their patterns, Wild decided to take a chance and find out exactly where his comrades were. During a lull in the watch on one side of the building, the halfling sneaked along the stone wall, peering into the ground-level windows. The earlier clanging of prison bars had had the muffled echo of being underground, so he suspected that the partially-buried level was where he would find the elf and the human.

As luck would have it, he peered in one window near the back of the prison and spied a head of dark blue hair. “Master Kaiyr,” he whispered.

“Master Wild,” came Kaiyr’s hushed reply. “You have been busy. I heard some of your comings and goings.”

“Yup, that’s me,” Wild said cheerfully. “I’m gonna try to get you three out of there. All I need now is a plan.”

“Wild, is that you?” came Caineye’s whisper from the next cell. Kaiyr motioned that Wild should speak with the druid.

“I guess that answers that question,” the halfling muttered, turning to the druid, who held onto the bars and pressed his face against them. “Hey, there, Caineye. Your rescue party is here. Like I told the blademaster, I’m going to try to get you out. I don’t know how yet, but I’m pretty sure I can do it.”

“Oh, by Alduros Hol’s grace,” Caineye breathed. “They say they’re going to execute us, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. We don’t have much time.”

“That’s the best part. I work better under pressure, anyway.”

“Hey, you! Get away from there!” came a shout from the entrance to the wide alley between the prison and the next building. Wild winced but winked at Caineye as he rose.

“What do you want?” the halfling demanded in a petulant voice.

A soldier hustled up to the apparent kid, one hand on his sword’s handle, though the weapon remained sheathed. “Get outta here, kid. Don’t think we won’t arrest a kid for snooping around the prison.”

“But I lost my ball, and it fell through the bars here,” Wild complained, stomping his feet. “The nice man inside was just going to get it for me.”

The soldier scowled. “Get lost, kid, before something
else
goes rolling through those bars.”

Wild gave him a frightened look but stood his ground, as a pressured child might do. “I can’t even get my ball back? You’re mean, you big bully! I’m gonna tell Mommy an officer was picking on me. My daddy’ll get you fired! Hmph!” Turning on his heel, he stormed back the way he’d come. Once he was safely hidden a block away, he allowed himself a chuckle at the sight of Caineye’s grin, the druid having barely been able to contain his laughter.

Rubbing his hands together, Wild’s grin turned wicked as he felt the beginnings of a plan forming in his head.

Much of the day Wild spent reconnoitering the prison, taking even more notes about the place. When he got the chance, he scoped out the back door, hearing voices from within when he listened.

As the sun went down, Wild checked his gear, loosened his daggers in their sheaths, wound back the winch on his crossbow, and locked the trigger in place. He ate a light meal of trail rations and water, the better to keep his mind away from his stomach but not to send all his blood there.

Tightening his leather armor, the halfling padded silently between the buildings of Viel, little more than a giddy shadow flitting from cover to cover. Upon reaching the closed back door of the prison, Wild grinned and hurled himself at the wooden barrier, pounding and kicking at it for a few seconds. Then, listening, he was rewarded with the reaction he’d wanted and quickly found a most cunning place to hide.

The door opened outward, and two soldiers appeared in the doorway, brandishing longswords.

“Who’s there?” one asked the gathering darkness in a growl. Both parties waited, and when nothing presented itself outside the door, the soldier turned to his partner. “Well, we have to do a round of the building now, anyway. Come on. You go that way, and maybe we’ll scare something out of hiding.”

The soldiers exited. Neither of them had looked up. If they had, they would have seen a silently laughing halfling clinging to the gutter before swinging down and rolling deftly inside the prison just before the door clicked shut.

“Hello, Master Kaiyr,” Wild said in a whisper, his head popping out from around the corner as he peered into the blademaster’s cell. “I’m here to get you and Caineye out.”

“Master Wild,” the elf said. “It is good to see our trust rewarded.” As Kaiyr rose, the halfling deftly picked open the lock on the door, gave it a tug—and fell back on his rear end.

“What the—?”

Kaiyr pointed up to the top of the cell’s door. “Adamantine locking bars,” he said in a somewhat gruff tone, the most annoyance the blademaster had put into his voice thus far. “I believe there is a lever somewhere down the hall.”

“Wild?” came Caineye’s voice from the next cell. “Is that you?”

The halfling hopped over to the druid’s door and picked the lock. “I know there’s the extra bar, but once I spring that, you’ll be able to jump right out of there,” he said by way of explanation. Vinto responded with a bored yawn but an eager gleam in his eyes.