It was a dream.  Callindra knew it was a dream because Glarian was standing at her side, one hand holding that monster Sakar over one shoulder and the other resting on hers.  Even though it wasn’t real she felt like she could really talk to him and damn if she didn’t have some things to say.  She opened her mouth to give Glarian the rough side of her tongue for running off or maybe to beg him to come back to her but he spoke first.

“How do you feel?”  He asked, his voice rough with … was it concern?

“What do you mean Master?”

“You’ve had to defend yourself apprentice … you’ve killed and not just monsters now either.”  He said, “So I was wondering how you felt.”

“Scared.  Tired.  Devastated.  Exhilarated.”  She turned and looked up into his face, her eyes sparkling, “Dangerous.”

“Oh you’re dangerous all right.” The concern was clear now, “Has the Weave been behaving?  You’ve been keeping up with the Korumn?”

“Master … it’s OK.  I’m OK.  I practice every morning with the sunrise.  We’re on a quest for-“

“Yes, I know.  You’re looking for Gode.  We’re all looking for Gode.  If you find him, let us know.”

–

“Callindra?” She tried to focus on the voice, her vision swimming. “Hey, welcome back.”  It was Tryst she realized.

“Thanks.”  She was lying on the ground and staring up at a perfect sunset streaking across wispy clouds.

“You had me worried there for a moment.  Usually the healing prayers work with more alacrity.”

“How long was I out?”  She struggled to a sitting position, testing her limbs for stiffness and smiling at Tryst, “I feel as good as new, or almost anyway.  It’s a miracle for real!”  Most of the cuts she had gathered during the fight were healed to faded scars and her hands had a growth of new pink skin.  Re-growing the swordsman’s calluses on them was going to be murder but at least she didn’t have to wait for the blisters to heal.

“You have only been unconscious for about ten minutes.  Don’t push too hard yet, the euphoria is only temporary.  Only half of the healing comes from prayer, the other half comes from your body.”  He gave her an encouraging smile, “The real miracle is that your body knows how to heal itself in the first place; I just help it along.”

The clearing they were in was a sheltered bowl at the top of a tall hill.  From here they could see the village of Vonlar below far in the distance.  They could also make out a winding trail that made its way down the hills steep sides.  The men had made a few rude buildings that blended into the landscape, one housed a few rather tired looking horses, another rough looking accommodations but the third and largest one had piles of boxes and stacks of supplies.  Unless she missed her guess, Callindra believed they had found the missing goods stolen by the Kobolds and perhaps more.

“We should return to Vonlar and tell the villagers where they can go to recover their things.” Tryst said.

“Yeah, the sooner we clear our debt with these backwards muckdwellers the better.” Cronos muttered.

“I feel like we should get back to Tyreen.” Said Vilhylm, “She’s a Dryad, if anyone knows about legends like Elves she would.”

Callindra levered herself to her feet with a reluctant sigh.  “I suppose we should at least get back to Vonlar… or maybe we could just stay here tonight.  I mean it’s not like there’s anyone left to mess with us right?  Besides, I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted.”

“No, we are all tired and that’s exactly why we must return to Vonlar before dark.” Vil said, “There we will be assured of at least some rest whereas here we would be forced to post a rotating watch.”

“I can see the village from here, it won’t take long.” Cronos said with unusual kindness, “He’s right, and the faster we get there the sooner we can all sleep.”

“Ok, ok…”  Callindra sighed again and settled Brightfang more comfortably on her back, “Let’s go then.”

–

The sunlight blinked and flickered on the surface of the pool in what Callindra now thought of as Tyreen’s Grotto.  Callindra was having a hard time staying focused on the conversation at hand, it was just too beautiful out.  She couldn’t believe how fearless the wildlife was when the Dryad was around.  Before, butterflies had landed on her, but now there were deer drinking from the pool and a mountain lion had even spent a half hour letting Tyreen pick burrs out of its coat and rub its belly.

“If you are looking for the Elves, you must go to the Grandfather Tree in the High Forest.” Tyreen said to Tryst.  The big man sat in his gleaming white surcoat, not seeming to notice the small birds that were flying around him and occasionally landing on his shoulders.  “I know very little of the things you seek, but I know the mistress of all Elvenkind resides there.  The Goddess Jorda herself is there.”

This made Callindra sit up and take notice, “What?  You say an actual Goddess lives there?  I thought the Gods were…”

“Myths?  Tryst asked, sounding amused.  “Where do you think the magic that healed your wounds came from?”

“I… “ She didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t make her feel stupid, “I haven’t met a God before so it’s hard for me to think about them.  Besides, knowing my upbringing it’s not too unusual.  Either peasants like me believe absolutely in the Gods or we don’t.  I happen to be of the second kind.”

“You don’t speak like a peasant.” Tryst replied, his eyes twinkling.

“You don’t seem like a priest.” She retorted, annoyed.

“Fair enough.” Said Tryst, laughing merrily, “I don’t feel much like those stodgy old codgers either.”

“So we’re going to the High Forest then?” Said Vilhylm with his usual abruptness.

“That’s a helluva long trip.” Cronos said with a frown.

“Well in that case, we should leave today.  The sooner the better right?”  Callindra said, standing and brushing the dirt from her pants.

“You seem to be restless young one.” Tyreen said, smiling at Callindra’s indignant look.  “Why are you so hesitant to sit still?”

“I need to keep moving.  The more I travel, the more likely I am to find my Master.”  She said, not wanting to admit her fears, her feeling of abandonment or how useless she felt.  To cover her consternation, she took her pipe from its water tight case and packed the bowl with tac, lighting it with flint and steel.

“Who is your Master?”  Tyreen asked, and the others gave her confused looks.  Callindra hadn’t brought him up before.

“He… taught me the Sword.” She mumbled around her pipe stem, “He wasn’t supposed to and now he’s in trouble because of me.”

“Ah, and you think you can help him?”  Tyreen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… I can’t…”  Callindra blew out a cloud of smoke, frustrated that she couldn’t organize her thoughts better, “He’s out there with nobody to watch his back.  I can’t just let him face the Inquisitors on his own.”  Realizing what she had just said, she shut her mouth with an audible snap.

“By the nine hells…” Cronos said, looking at her with wide eyes.  “You’re a rogue weaponmage.  Do you have any idea what the price on your head is?  The Order pays platinum for information on …” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“Of course we wouldn’t dream of turning a comrade in without knowing the whole story.” Tryst said, giving her a penetrating look.

Callindra sighed, why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut?  “He found me injured in the woods, took me in, cared for me and showed me nothing but kindness and respect no matter how often I showed him the rough side of my tongue.  One day I saw him practicing and all but demanded he teach me.  Of course it took me a long time to recover from my injuries, but he took me seriously and didn’t let me off easy.

“Then I guess I began to manifest powers he said I had to learn to control before they killed me.  I didn’t know… but he did and he never asked me.  He knew they’d come and try to kill us, but he taught me anyway.  I owe him, and damn it he owes me!  He should have told me.”

“Why was he exiled from The Order?” Vilhylm asked, looking dark and dangerous in spite of the brightness of the day.

“Because he wouldn’t kill someone I guess.  I don’t care.  If you could see him with his sword… there is no way someone who can dance that beautifully can be bad.”  She knew there was a look of hero worship on her face and she forcibly hardened her features.  “Besides, he saved my life.  It doesn’t matter what someone says he did.  When you face someone over a sword blade you get to know who they are.”

“So you expect us to just travel with you?”  Cronos asked, “You should have told us.”

“Now Cronos, many of us have things in our past we would rather not reveal to certain authorities.”  He raised an eyebrow, “Right?”

To Callindra’s surprise, Cronos blushed and looked away.  She made note of that information for later use.  Just in case.

“Look, I didn’t want to expose you to danger.  That’s why I haven’t told you about it… I mean I had enough trouble keeping my own mouth shut.  Secrets shared aren’t secret anymore.”  She exhaled a stream of smoke from her nostrils, enjoying the rich flavor and letting the scent bring memories of her Master to the surface.  “Glarian was a harsh master but also a real friend.  I can’t bear the thought of him fighting for the both of us by himself.”

Cronos made a choking sound and even Tryst seemed shocked.  “Glarian?”  Tryst said, “You apprenticed to the Sol’Estin?  The Master of the North Wind?”

“Um…. yes?”  She had known that Glarian was extraordinary but hadn’t really thought much of it beyond the trouble she was causing him.  “Is he really that famous?  He seemed just like an old man living on his own in the woods…”

“He was the only member of The Order to ever escape their full punishment.  The only member to ever leave their ranks with his title.”  Vilhylm paused, “You really didn’t know?  He fought in hundreds of significant battles and was credited for the victory on his side in almost all of them.  Many of them were nearly bloodless with him simply defeating the general of the opposing army or his champion in single combat.”

“He’s a legend.”  Cronos said, finally recovering.  “My… teacher even mentioned him sometimes.”

“Where is he now?”  Callindra asked, curious.  “Your teacher I mean.”

“Dead.” The boy said flatly.  She wisely decided to drop the subject.

“I think the girl is right though.  We should leave today, there’s still plenty of daylight and we have a long trip ahead of us.” Said Vilhylm, standing and drawing his cloak about himself.

With that, they seemed to come to an agreement.  The rest of them stood as well and Callindra felt her pulse rise, they were back on the road.  Their time of rest was over, and she would be able to get back to fighting, training and getting stronger.

As the tunnel twisted deeper Callindra could feel the air beginning to get warmer and an acrid stink of something burning made her eyes water.  She glanced at her companions and saw their expressions grim.  Something about the smell of the smoke was bothering them, but she didn’t know what it was.  Just as she was opening her mouth to ask what the issue was Vilhylm, who was in the lead, raised a hand for them to stop.  Ahead she saw flickering firelight and could barely make out some sort of rhythmic chanting.

She slipped up next to Vil, pausing for a moment before peering around the corner.  The scene below made her heart skip a beat and her stomach roll.  A group of humans were huddled naked and filthy in a ring of wooden slats surrounded by a group of well-armed Kobolds.  Beyond them, a stone altar with a black stain running down the side stood and on the other side an open hole in the cavern floor bubbled with molten rock.  A large bonfire blazed around which a motley assortment of Kobolds seemed to be working themselves into a frenzy.

A short, twisted creature with a head of stringy hair stood next to the altar, pulling the beating heart from a body that still twitched and convulsed on the altar and held it aloft.  The assembled Kobolds raised a shout of triumph and hunger and the priest barked a few words, shaking the heart and showering the assembled monsters in a shower of hot blood.  Two soldiers dragged the corpse from the altar and threw it to the shouting mob.  They fell on it in a frenzy of snapping jaws and razor sharp claws.

The heart was deposited in a golden box hanging from the end of a steel pole on an iron chain and carried to the crack in the floor.  Here the priest began a guttural chant and lowered it slowly into the lava where it burst into a greasy flame.  The acrid sweetish smell burned in her nose and she was filled with an uncontrollable rage.  This ended now.

Before anyone could stop her, Callindra stood and leaped off the high ledge in one smooth motion.  She landed in a rush of air that blew the surrounding Kobolds off their feet.  With a scream of anger, the creatures closed in on her but she was a whirlwind of magic and steel.  Every time one of them tried to strike her, she managed to dodge out of the way and deal a devastating blow in return.  By the time her companions arrived the crowd of Kobolds were all laying on the ground, bleeding and moaning.

“Bloody stupid thing, running off like that girl!” Vilhylm said.

“Don’t listen to the old stick.” Cronos laughed, “Nice work.  Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“We have bigger problems.” Said Tryst, pointing toward the phalanx of Kobold guards who were moving away from the slave pen.  They were holding their weapons like they knew how to use them and the chainmaile they wore was polished to a mirror finish.

“You take care of the small fry.”  Callindra said with a determined grimace on her face, “That shaman is mine.”

“Wait!” Tryst shouted, but it was too late.  She had already ran straight at the guards, but instead of trying to cut them down, she dodged to one side at the last minute.  Taking three quick steps up the wall of the cavern, Callindra sprang off and ran lightly over her foes using heads and shoulders as momentary foot holds.  Turning a neat flip off the last one, she landed with a flourish in front of her intended opponent.

“Foolissshhh chhhild.” The shaman hissed and waved a hand at her, hissing more words in a sibilant language she didn’t recognize.

She readied Brightfang to spring for his throat but before she could, he vanished and re-appeared on the other side of the raging bonfire.  Her sword hilt quivered in her hand, almost feeling too warm.  It was strange but she focused on the scene instead, trying to find a way across the flames to her quarry.  A quick glance showed her a possible route.  With a short sprint Callindra slid between two approaching Kobolds, digging her toes into the ground and regaining her feet as the monsters smashed into each other.  With a grin she covered the remaining distance between her and the shaman easily.  It was only then that she noticed the pain in her hands.

Steam was coming from her thin leather gloves and the skin beneath was close to blistering.  The shaman fixed her with a gleeful smile and opened his mouth to taunt her.  This was almost nothing compared to the pain of her training.  The smile faded off the creature’s face as she tightened her grip on Brightfang in spite of the sizzle of burning flesh.

“You think this is going to stop me?” She asked, twisting her face into a smirk in spite of Brightfang’s hilt now glowing red hot.  “All it’s going to accomplish is that my blade will hurt more when it slices through your flesh.  You’ve taken the blood of innocents.  Now it’s time for you to bleed.”

“Sssso be it.” The shaman raised a spear tied with bones and totems from his side and swung it in an arc.  Black wood met shining steel in a shower of sparks.  The two fought back and forth over the floor, neither able to find advantage.  Callindra found herself with her back to the lava pool, the shaman raised his spear for a strike that would surely send her into the molten rock.

“Callindra down!” Cronos’s voice rang out behind her.  Without thinking she dropped to her knees and a wave of flame seared the monster before roaring over her head.  It didn’t seem to have much effect on him, but the momentary distraction was enough to create an opening.

Brightfang slashed across the monster’s thighs in a left handed swipe and she followed up by grabbing the spear with her right hand and pulling back with all her strength.  She allowed herself to fall backward, planting a boot in the shaman’s chest and flipping it over her head into the lava.

“Thanks Cronos.” She said rolling smoothly to her feet.  They looked in satisfaction at the burning remains of the shaman.

“Yeah.  Nice job on that one.” He said, nodding at the lava.  They turned and looked at the remains of the battlefield.  Tryst and Vilhylm were cleaning their weapons and binding some minor wounds.  All the Kobolds were dead.

The few remaining human slaves cowered in the slat sided pen, not even moving until Tryst spoke to them at length.  Eventually they regained enough confidence to follow his directions on how to escape the tunnels.  The likelihood of them running into any more of the monsters after the number that had been in this cavern seemed slim and they would certainly have a better chance of escaping that way than following along.

“This was bad, but I don’t think it could account for all we’ve seen.  There must be someone else behind their organization.  I don’t think this… priest… would have the resources to provide them with armor and training.” Tryst said grimly.

“Perhaps we should follow these stairs then?” Vilhylm pointed to a steep set of steps that twisted up the side of the cavern.  “They’re bound to lead somewhere important.”

“I’ll lead.  I think I’m the most surefooted.” Callindra said and started up the stairs two at a time, not waiting to see if the others followed.  As she got close to the top her pace slowed.  Sunlight shone down from above and she could smell fresh air but more importantly there were voices up there.  Human voices.

“I tell yeh, we gotta run.  There’s people down there killin th critters left an right.  They’s gonna make it past th priest any time an then they’s gonna come fer us.”

“We got plenny a loot boss.  We should split while we can.”

“Yeh cowards, I say let ‘em come.  Get yer bows ready.  As soon as yeh see a head come up th stairs fill it wi arrows.”

She was going to leap out before they could draw their weapons, but Vilhylm’s hand came down on her shoulder. “Wait for Tryst to catch up.” He whispered, “He and Cronos are up to something.”

The other two came up quietly and put their heads close.  “We all come out at once and scatter.  There will be less targets that way.  Callindra, you go for their leader since you’re the fastest.  Cronos, see if you can distract them.  Vilhylm, you and I will take care of the archers.”

“Just a second.  If I’m fast now, I can double that speed with a touch of magic.” Callindra said with a wide grin.  She whispered a few arcane words and called the North Wind to speed her feet.  “All right, let’s go kick some ass.”

As one, they all leaped from the staircase and ran in separate directions.  An arrow buzzed past Callindra’s neck, the loose fletching causing it to buzz like an angry wasp.  The winds whirled around her as she ran, sending up clouds of dust and dead leaves.  The men she saw were dressed in a variety of armor, but in spite of being slightly mismatched it was all relatively new and in perfect repair.  She saw the only one who didn’t have a bow drawn and made for him as fast as she could.  He calmly drew a scimitar and waited for her to approach with a smile of anticipation on his face.

They met in a clash of swords, but no matter how fast Callindra struck, he was faster.  After a few moments she was covered in a myriad of small bleeding wounds, none of them were dangerous on their own but combined they slowed her down.  She pushed harder, waiting for him to misstep, trying to find an opening but only succeeded in earning a few more cuts.

The ferocity of her attack had driven him back to the edge of a cliff but now he was on the offensive.  They danced close to the precipice as he slammed blow after blow down on her, a series of strikes that ended with a massive overhand stroke that drove her to her knees.  A confused expression crossed his face, and she saw an arrow stuck in his chest.  His sword blow had saved her from being shot in the back.

With a complicated motion of her sword, Callindra summoned a blast of wind that knocked her still surprised opponent over the edge of the cliff.  She spun on her knees to see her friends dispatching the last of the men.  Sitting back with a weak laugh of relief she wiped Brightfang on the hem of her cloak and sheathed him.

“That was too god rotting close.” She said, wiping the blood out of her eyes.

Tryst was pulling an arrow out of Cronos’s arm with a grim expression on his face.  “I couldn’t agree more Callindra.  Far too close.”

She laughed in relief finally able to relax, but as the adrenaline wore off she realized she might have overdone things a bit.  “Gods and demons.  Tryst when you get a moment I could really use some of that healing magic of yours.  I think I’m going to just … if it’s all right with you I’m going to rest my eyes for a second.”

Callindra awoke with a jerk, having slept so deeply she forgot where she was for a moment.  Her eyes adjusted to the morning light that streamed into the room from an open window and she remembered.  Tryst and Cronos were still asleep; they hadn’t had the benefit of drinking the spring water.  To her pleasure, she found that the dirt, sweat and blood of the prior day had somehow been cleaned from her skin during the night. She knew she should find it strange, but it was such a relief to be clean that she didn’t think about it too much.

She unwrapped and re-wrapped her breast band before pulling on her loose cotton breeches and making her way outside with Brightfang’s baldric slung over one shoulder.  While she practiced, clouds of butterflies swirled and dipped around her, even landing on her hair and arms.  Their probing feet tickled unmercifully and after losing her concentration several times, Callindra gave up.  She ran and laughed amid the thousands of brightly colored creatures, feeling like a little girl.

There were trees with apples and pears growing on them, vines thick with grapes and edible mushrooms growing on fallen logs.  She picked enough for her friends to break their fast and nearly skipped back inside, singing a bawdy tune about what kinds of mischief the wives of sailors got up to while their men were out at sea.

Her companions were all sitting around a low table. Even Vilhylm was there, looking no worse for the wear other than some dark circles under his eyes.  Callindra set the fruits she had harvested down with a smile.

“I already ate as much as I could hold.  Dig in boys, we have a long day ahead of us!”

“You’re unaccountably cheerful this morning.” Tryst remarked, although he couldn’t keep the smile from his face.  Even Cronos looked almost happy, or as close to happy as Callindra could remember seeing him.

“How are you feeling?” Callindra asked, looking at Vilhylm and pouring herself a glass of spring water.  “Looks like our trip to Vonlar wasn’t wasted.”

“I owe Tyreen my life.” He said in glowing tones, “It sounds like I owe this Jasmine as well.”

“We can pay Jasmine back by routing those Kobolds from whatever hole they are hiding in.” Tryst said stoutly.

–

The horses trotted like colts, their good humor restored after a full night’s rest and good meals of grass.  The water from Tyreen’s spring probably helped too, Callindra reflected, remembering how it had made her feel.  They made good time back to Vonlar and arrived just before the midday meal.

Tryst almost had to fight off a crowd of anxious people before they would allow him to go and search for their belongings and loved ones.  Callindra was grinding her teeth audibly before the crowd took the big man’s assurances that he would do what he could at face value and let them get on their way. He handled it with an aplomb that would have done a king proud, promising any aid that could be given and explaining that the first priority was to find the monsters and deal with them.

“I know all of you are anxious about your families.  I can promise you that we will do everything in our power to restore to you what has been taken.  For now please remain in your homes and care for your wounded and grief-stricken.”

It was child’s play to follow the trail of the Kobolds back to their lair.  During the day, the creatures would likely stay inside their caves and hadn’t even bothered to post guard.  After all there had been so little resistance in this area that it didn’t make sense to waste the effort.

They snuck inside, even Tryst managing to be quiet in spite of his heavy armor.  Initially the tunnel slanted downward, but eventually it widened and branched into two.  On the left, a wide ramp sloped slightly up and on the right the tunnel grew even wider.  Down the right hand side, they could see rude mud huts built against the side of the cave dimly lit by torches.

Small kobolds, likely children, played between pens of filthy human slaves and others carried out menial tasks of daily life.  It was almost surreal to see that the monsters had young.  Beyond the village, more tunnels gaped like empty eye sockets, absent gods only knew how deep they ran.

“I will not be party to the slaying of children.” Tryst whispered, his jaw set.  “They have done no wrong and I will not see innocent blood spilled.”

“I agree, but how will we frighten them off?” Vilhylm asked.  Callindra exchanged glances with Cronos and she could tell he had been thinking the same thing she had.  They might be children but innocent was in the eye of the beholder.  Those slaves didn’t look too tenderly cared for.

“I have an idea.”  Callindra said after a moment.  She knew a whisper carried further than a simple low tone of voice and kept the sibilant sounds that carried to a minimum.  “If we all go up that ramp back there I think I can make a distraction that will get most of them out of the way.  Then we can rescue the captured humans and see them safely away.”

“Are you sure it’ll work?” Cronos asked, eyeing her dubiously.

“Well… no, but if it doesn’t we can always run away.  The cave entrance is right over there and there’s nothing between it and us right?”  At the other’s nods, she followed Tryst up the ramp.  When they reached the top she worked Brightfang in an intricate pattern and pulled the runes of power from his flat, one spell swiftly followed by another.

A low moan echoed through the Kobold village and a fog began creeping from the dark tunnel openings on the far side.  Flickering shapes showed amid the fog as it rolled toward the huts, indistinct but suggesting something horrible with powerful arms and hook-like hands.  She wasn’t sure what it was, but the idea had been pulled from the imaginations of the creatures she was trying to frighten and the effect was nearly instantaneous. Mothers grabbed children and fled shrieking past them, out toward the mouth of the cave.

It only took moments to free the prisoners, but to Callindra’s dismay they refused to listen when Tryst told them they had to run.

“Please, my wife.” One man choked, “They took her… I need to rescue her.” He pointed a trembling finger toward a tunnel that sloped down on the far side of the cavern.  A girl who must be his daughter clung to his leg and stared at Callindra with wide, fearful eyes.

“I aint leavin till I get some back.” One man said, folding his arms over his chest.  “Them critters got somethin comin and I’m gonna give ‘em.  Jest gimme a knife and-“

His tirade was cut off by a deafening shout.  A line of Kobold warriors wearing good chainmaile and carrying well-made short swords stood at the mouths of the caves.  At the sight of so many well-armed foes, the villagers finally took to their heels and ran.

Callindra and her companions were too busy preparing for the charge of their enemies to give them more thought.  With defiant screams the small green monsters ran towards them, waving a motley assortment of weapons.  With a smile, she ran to meet their charge and was lost in the ring of steel on steel.

She slid under a precise slash and disemboweled the creature on her way past.  These were much better fighters than the group she had faced either in Vonlar or on the road to Gomreed, not to mention better equipped.  It didn’t matter though, Brightfang parted the chainmaile the monster wore as though it was made of paper.  Spinning on her knee, Callindra brought her blade in a smooth arc that took another of the creature’s legs from its body.

Pain erupted down her back as a sword’s edge was deflected by her armor, but she knew the bruising would take days to subside. Snarling, she reversed her blade and stabbed blindly backward, feeling the tip dig in and smiling in satisfaction at the squeal of pain.  Wrenching Brightfang free, she used the momentum to slash the throat of another kobold and then there were no more opponents left to face.

“It is disturbing how well armed and armored these are.” Tryst said with a frown creasing his face into a pretty study of consternation.

“They weren’t much better trained.” Cronos remarked, wiping his sword on one of the corpses.

“Judging by how clean their equipment is, I’d wager they haven’t had it for long.  Kobolds are notoriously filthy.” Said Vilhylm, gesturing at the general state of decay of the huts and the muck of excrement on the street.

“Something feels wrong about this.” Callindra said, “Who would be funding them, for what reason and why would the little monsters agree?  Regardless, from the size of this settlement I’d say there will be a lot more of them.”

Even as those words left her mouth, the sounds of armor-shod feet and the guttural barks of the Kobold tongue began echoing from the other side of the cavern.  Tryst and Cronos each grabbed a torch and, they all moved down one of the passages that led deeper into the ground.  Perhaps they could avoid being ambushed and perhaps not, but staying here was asking to be overwhelmed.

It was a half-day’s travel to Vonlar, even though they pushed the horses as hard as they dared.  When they were emerging from the forest at the edge of town they knew something was amiss.  The sounds of fighting reached Callindra’s ears and the screams of terrified people split the air.

She dismounted and ran headlong into the town square, drawing Brightfang as she ran.  There were dozens of kobolds in the street, hacking at villagers with rusted blades while the people attempted to defend themselves with sticks and pitchforks.

The battle was short and brutal, Callindra and her companions hit the monsters from behind like a thunderbolt.  Trapped between the townsfolk and their makeshift weapons and the experienced fighters the kobolds were slain in moments, only a few escaped with their plunder.

“Please sir, please help us!”  The villagers all gathered around Tryst, some of them even touching the hem of his cloak in supplication.

“Our families!”

“The supplies we laid up for the winter!”

“My little boy!”

“They took my daughters!”

The clamor was deafening.  Finally Tryst raised his hands and smiled down at them with an aplomb that only he would have been able to summon.  Callindra was almost wondering if they were going to have to defend themselves from the mob.  Looking at the expectant look on their faces and the way they calmed down, she carefully cleaned Brightfang on one of the Kobold’s corpses and sheathed him.

“Please good people, do not worry yourselves.  We shall certainly assist you in your time of need.” He paused and fixed them with that absurdly beautiful smile again.  “A friend of mine is ill and we must first see to him, but you have my word we will not let your plight go unnoticed.  If you can help us find the herb woman Jasmine so that she can supply us with the herbs we need to bring him back to health we shall return forthwith and ensure your lost family and belongings.”

Callindra didn’t believe for a moment that this crowd would just let them walk away during their time of crisis but she had vastly underestimated Tryst’s powers of persuasion.  In less than a quarter hour they were riding from the village with the herbs they needed in their saddlebags.

“We aren’t really going back there are we?” Cronos asked.  He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk on his face, “They really fell for it Tryst.”

“Of course we are going back.” He replied immediately fixing his brother with an indignant look, “I gave them my word.”

While this made perfect sense to Callindra she could see the significance was lost on Cronos. “We also owe Jasmine for this medication.” Tryst continued, “She wouldn’t take my coin, saying our attempt to save the village was payment enough.”

Cronos rolled his eyes and opened his mouth for a smart remark but Callindra cut him off, “I agree with Tryst.  We hit a dead end with Tyreen anyway.  You aren’t scared of a few Kobolds are you?”

“Scared?  Me?” Cronos spluttered, and she knew she had him.

“Well yeah.  What other reason would you have for ditching out on a village full of people who need you?”  She shrugged innocently, “Especially people who we owe a favor to.  If you aren’t frightened what’s your excuse?”

“We already saved them once, we drove off those green skins like they were nothing.  That should be good enough for anyone.”

“Not good enough for me.” Tryst replied, his mouth set in a firm line. “Now we are wasting daylight.  Let’s ride!”

–

The sun was down by the time they made it back to Tyreen’s tree.  Now that she welcomed them, entrance was as easy as opening the door and walking inside.  Callindra stayed outside to tend to the horses.  The poor beasts had been asked for a lot today and she wanted to look them over.

While she was walking them to cool their bodies down before giving them water she saw a face appear in a bole of the tree. “Young sprout!  You may water your animals in the stream without fearing for their health.  It shall refresh them.  Perhaps you should water yourself also as you look a bit disabused as well.”

Callindra did her best not to bristle at being called a sprout.  The implication that she looked dirty, tired and worse for the wear didn’t really bother her though.  It was the plain truth.  She had sustained a number of small cuts and bruises during the fight to save Vonlar that weren’t deep enough for her to bother Tryst with and nearly ten hours in the saddle was a lot more than she was used to.

Leading the horses toward the sound of trickling water, she found a perfect crystal stream that erupted directly from the side of the cliff that Tyreen’s tree grew against.  Usually the water from a spring like this was bone chillingly cold, but when she tested it Callindra was delighted to find it was the perfect temperature for drinking.  The animals needed no encouragement, they dipped their muzzles into the small pool and guzzled greedily.

While the horses slaked their thirst Callindra did her best to wash some of the day off her face and arms, taking care to do so downstream from the drinking pool.  The water restored her vigor and even seemed to be a balm to her minor injuries, leaving her refreshed and alert.  Thinking her companions would likely be thirsty she filled a water skin and brought it inside, leaving the horses tethered to their saddles and cropping the thick grass.

To her surprise, both Tryst and Cronos were asleep.  Before she could comment overmuch on this, she too was feeling drowsy.  The place was cozy enough she supposed, the thick mat of moss that grew on the floor was softer than any carpet.

Tyreen hummed a beautiful song that seemed to have a three part harmony in spite of coming from only one throat as she ground herbs with a mortar and pestle.  Even though they were inside a fresh spring breeze seemed to be blowing.  Callindra found herself removing her armor and lying down on a bed of moss, curling around Brightfang as though he was a favorite toy… or a lover.

After a week of travel, Callindra was once again growing tired of traveling by horseback.  Her new equipment was getting a good breaking in due to excessive sweating and they hadn’t seen any signs of civilization since leaving Arkasia.  She heard the sound of running water in the distance and called out to Tryst.

“Can we break for lunch?  My ass is killing me and I’m out of water.  I think there’s a river ahead, I wouldn’t mind a swim and a good scrub.  I might start attracting flies at this rate.”

“I suppose, it is around midday.” Tryst said, squinting at the sun.  “We don’t have time for getting side tracked though, we are close to the ruins of Lin Lamorak.”

They left the roadway, which was really more of a trail at this point, and found a beautiful little brook.  Bright green moss grew thick on rocks that surrounded a tranquil pool overhung with weeping willows.  Butterflies flitted from flower to flower in a small partially shaded meadow and birds sang sweetly from the trees.

Tryst had dismounted from his horse and was looking around the clearing with a strange look on his face, “This place has some kind of power to it.  I’m not exactly sure what it is, but the growth seems to be slightly unnatural.”

“It looks like paradise to me.”  Callindra said, she dismounted and tied her horse’s reins to a tree branch.

“Yes it does.” Said Vilhylm, “That’s what has him on edge.”

“We haven’t seen anything that looks this lush for days.  You have to admit it’s suspicious.” Said Cronos, loosening his bastard sword in the scabbard.

“Look, there is a trail leading off in this direction.  Let’s check it out.” Tryst pointed with his hammer.

Callindra stared longingly at the cool water before following the others.  The trail wound around behind the small hill all the way to the top.  An ancient tree, gnarled and bent by age, disease and a partially healed lightning strike seemed to circle protectively around a small cottage.

Although the hill wasn’t very high the absolute stillness of the winds made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, “OK you are right.  Something’s wrong here.” She said, drawing her sword.

Vilhylm knocked on the door with the butt of his spear and it shifted partially open.  After glancing inside, he looked over his shoulder at them, “Seems to be abandoned.  It’s a one room house.”

Callindra looked inside, there was a small bed against one wall, a tiny wood stove and some cupboards and shelving along one of the walls.  “Something’s not right here; the inside of this house is far smaller than the outside.” She said.

They all moved in cautiously together but as soon as Cronos, who was bringing up the rear, had entered the door slammed, plunging the room into darkness.  Mere seconds later the floor dropped away beneath her and she fell with a frightened shriek.  Without any way of knowing how far away the ground was, Callindra slammed into the ground much harder than she would have normally only able to avoid a painful sprain by tucking and rolling to fetch up awkwardly against a wall.

“What a rough landing.  How are the rest of you?”  She wondered how Tryst had fared in his heavy armor.  Callindra squinted, trying to see through the curtain of blackness before her but she couldn’t see anything and her companions did not respond.

“Tryst?  Cronos?  Vilhylm?”  She raised her voice slightly, but still didn’t get a response.  “Absent Gods, they must have fallen somewhere else.”  The wall next to her was rough stone, she followed along it with her right hand, Brightfang gripped in her left.  After what seemed like hours she saw a dim light ahead.

The light came from a hole in the ceiling above her head, at least fifteen feet up.   She could see the walls of the cavern were indeed naturally carved out by some long since departed river, now roughened with age.  Voices came from above, too faint for her to make out.  Sheathing her sword, Callindra began scaling the wall.  As she neared the hole she could make out the voices above.

“-will be dead before you can move.”  A guttural voice said, dripping with malice.

“NO, you can’t!” This was a woman, she sounded near panic, “You’ve done enough haven’t you?  Without proper help he’s likely to die anyway, just leave us be.”

“I enjoy seeing you like this Tyreen.  Tears streaming down your face, near hysterical with fear and grief.  I can taste the despair as it radiates from you.  These pitiful children will not help you any more than you helped your people when you abandoned them to live with this hermit.”

Callindra braced herself against a large stalactite, barely able to reach the edge of the hole with her fingertips.  Uncertain of whether she would reach it or fall she gathered her body and made a wild leap from the wall, scrabbling for grip on the rough stone and losing some skin and a fingernail in the process.  What she saw over the edge drove the pain to the back of her mind.

Through a doorway surrounded by glowing runes, a figure draped in tattered shadows and black silk was standing with its back to her, facing a beautiful woman with pale brown skin and waves of thick green hair. She was half draped over the fallen figure of Vilhylm and Cronos lay in the center of the room with a hole the size of Callindra’s fist in his chest.

Without thinking, Callindra moved toward the doorway, but before she could reach it a hand landed on her shoulder.  She spun in place, drawing her sword and swinging all in one motion.  Only her extensive training allowed her to halt the blade before it bit into Tryst’s neck.

“Don’t try and pass through the door.” He said in a low voice, “It’s protected against entry with strong magic.”

“I’m not going to just sit here while that bastard kills my companions!” She hissed, turning back towards the door.  His grip on her shoulder tightened to immovable iron.

“You think I want to wait and watch?  That’s my brother in there lying dead on the floor, but I don’t want either of us to join him.”

Even as he spoke, Cronos stirred on the floor.  His body jerked erratically as though it was a puppet being manipulated by invisible strings.  The motions smoothed out as he struggled to gain a standing position.  The hole in his chest was now only a hole in his armor, his hands were steady and his voice calm as he incanted a spell.

“WHAT?” The black clad figure spun to stare at Cronos, “You were dead before, I’ll make you so again little worm!”

“You shall not have him yet.” The voice that issued from Cronos’s lips was deeper and more guttural than it had been before.  “For now this one is lost to you.”  The spell he had been casting was released from his hands as he spoke and a scintillating bolt of energy burst from his hand.  The figure in black fled before it as darkness does before the dawn.

“You have already attracted some powerful enemies younglings.”  The voice continued as Cronos turned to look at Callindra and Tryst, “Beware of Dergeras, he is dangerous and I won’t always be here to protect you.”  His eyes narrowed, “Especially you daughter of Sol.  He seeks to hurt you most of all.”  The shimmering runes surrounding the door flickered slightly and ceased to glow.

“Grace take me, what was that?”  Tryst said, rushing through the doorway to catch Cronos as he fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut.  Once he had been lowered to the floor safely, he checked his vitals, “He’s alive.” He said, his voice reflecting the disbelief on his face.

“Of course I’m alive.” Cronos croaked, “I feel too horrible to be dead.”

“Your companion may live now, however this one’s life is in grave danger.”  Tryst turned to look at Tyreen as she spoke, “I fear he has been poisoned; only my presence is keeping death at bay.”

“Who are you and what has happened to Vilhylm?” Tryst demanded, turning to face her.

“My name is Tyreen.  I am a Dryad and you are currently within my tree.”  She gestured to the wooden walls and floor before continuing, tears streaming down her face.  “I grew him from a cutting of Grandfather Tree when I had to leave.  When we left to come east and serve as we could here.”

“What has happened to Vilhylm?” Callindra asked, “How can we save him?”

“In the nearby village of Vonlar there is a healer known as Jasmine.  She will be able to provide you with the medicine that can help him.”  Tyreen said, “Jasmine is known in these parts for her healing abilities.”

“If it can help Vyl, I’ll do it.” Said Callindra, her sentiments echoed moments later by the other two.

The next morning, Callindra awoke later than she had intended. She shuffled out of her room into the common room between her and the boys room in her underthings, feeling a little disoriented. Looking out the window, she saw that the courtyard below was empty of the practicing figures she had seen the day before.

Pulling on rumpled breeches and wrapping her chest tightly, she looked blearily around the room. She found a plate of fruit and ate an apple, core and all while staring down at the practice yard.

“Damn, I didn’t ask how to get there last night.” She muttered, helping herself to a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. “Well nothing for it but to jump.” She grinned, slung her sword belt over her back and leaped out of the window, the winds whipping around her body as she fell.

She landed in the courtyard lightly, whipping Brightfang from his sheath with a flourish. “Awesome, there are even practice dummies!”

“Indeed. What is your name girl?” A low voice sounded behind her.

She spun to face the man, moving her sword into a guard Stance.

“Easy, you are the one intruding upon my practice grounds.” She had seen this man the day before, striding through the drilling acolytes with a severe look on his face. He was the only one who hadn’t been wearing armor, his only protection was a massive shield strapped to his back. The top was almost a foot above his head and the bottom nearly dragged on the ground.

“My apologies sir.” She sheathed her sword with practiced ease. “I meant no offense, I was merely looking for a place to work my morning Korumn.”

His eyebrows rose briefly, then his eyes narrowed slightly. “Show me then.”

Unsure what to make of his scrutiny, she walked to the middle of the courtyard and sat with Brightfang across her knees. Her morning meditation came easily here in spite of the breezes that tickled her neck and played with the ragged ends of her hair.

When the First Korumn was finished, she rose and began moving through the Stances, eyes almost closed, feeling the passage of the air over her body. Brightfang’s tip whistled through the air, as she moved, and she almost missed the slight sound to her right. She jerked him to a stop just before his razor sharp edge cut into her observer’s scalp.

“What are you doing, moving into the line of a practicing sword fighter? Are you mad?” She could feel the energy that she had built in the first half of her practice quivering within her sword.

“Just testing to see if you had any control.” He snorted, “You wouldn’t have had the chance to cut me.” She looked above him to see the bulk of his shield.

“There’s no way you could move that monster fast enough to stop me. It’s on your back!” She said, “You took a serious risk you know, I’m still just an apprentice.”

“Just because it’s on my back doesn’t mean it’s not still protecting me.” He shifted his weight forward and the shield slipped slightly to cover most of his head. With a practiced motion he swung it off his back to land between them with a resounding thud.

“Those moves look pretty polished, but I know from experience that polish isn’t always a good thing. Makes you predictable, which is something you can’t afford to be in a real battle.”

“Look, if you want to spout some lecture save it for your initiates or whatever you call them.” Callindra said, tossing her head irritably, “I just came here to practice. Without practice I get a little too unpredictable.”

A stray wind whipped across the practice grounds, strong enough to set the dummies dancing on their ropes. “I’d rather not waste the morning away with idle chatter.” She said.

He moved to a nearby bench, carrying his shield as though it wasn’t a six foot wall of steel. Instead of sitting, he set the shield down and leaned on it. Callindra gave him a level look, then rolled her eyes and resumed her Stances. The Korumn flowed easily and at the end she felt refreshed, ready for the day and more importantly as though she had managed to put somewhat of a leash on her fractious connection to the Weave.

“Now that dance class is over, let’s spar.” She had forgotten the shield-toting instructor was there, he hadn’t even moved while she was practicing. He had a heavy wooden mallet in one hand and was lifting that monstrous shield with the other.

“Dance class? Big talk for a man hiding behind a castle portcullis!” She stood lightly on the balls of her feet, Brightfang’s edge glittering like a gemstone. “I am Callindra Sol’Estin of Glarian Sol’Estin. I am two years old. The wind hones my edge and guides my steps. My enemies bend before me like reeds before a gale.”

Now she was certain she saw his eyebrows raise, but she was too busy launching an all-out attack to give it any thought. Just as she had predicted, the sheer mass of his tower shield made it nearly impossible for her to reach him. She did manage to put a few notches around the edges and make it ring like a bell though.

The blur of the mallet’s motion was too fast for her to even think about dodging. Her opponent used the bulk of his shield to mask his attack until the last second, the steel bound end of the mallet hit her shoulder like a charging bull, sending her sprawling on the ground. She rolled and came up smoothly to her feet, only to find she had to leap backward to avoid another blow.

How had he closed on her so fast? That shield must weigh as much as a horse but it had been foolish of her to believe carrying it would make him slow. Just as her feet touched the ground, he seemed to appear before her, still running full tilt.

His shield connected with a solid head to toe blow, knocking her flat on her back with the wind rushing from her lungs.
Callindra tried to shake off the shock and pain that dazed her, it was all she could do to roll to one side as she felt more than heard the mallet slam into the turf where her head had just been. Was he truly trying to kill her? The thought made her break out into a cold sweat.

She had to be faster. Rolling to her feet, she was grimly satisfied that all her training had paid off; she still held fast to Brightfang’s hilt. Her opponent was a few feet away, giving her just enough time to act. She ran to her right, circling him as fast as she could, but moving ever closer. Instead of trying to attack, she was waiting for him to make a move.

The instant his right arm was visible, she jumped to the left, completely changing her direction, leaping over his attack and slashing Brightfang in a flashing arc. The head of the mallet was neatly separated from the shaft, Callindra grimaced, she had been aiming for his wrist. She landed lightly and immediately sprinted in the other direction again, dodging the edge of the shield as it slammed into the ground.

She had removed one weapon, but he treated that shield like a much more deadly one. She needed to be more unpredictable. With a madcap grin, she ran toward him, calling up arcane energies from the flat of her blade. Just before she was within range of a shield bash she released a blast of wind that should have knocked him over. Dust exploded in a cloud in the courtyard, making it difficult to see.

Callindra attempted to jump over her opponent, but ended up coming up short and landing on the top edge of his shield. Trying to take advantage of her mistake she brought her sword down, attempting to force him to surrender. To her surprise, a burly hand grabbed her forearm and flung her flat on her back, twisting her wrist as it did so and sending Brightfang tumbling from her grip.

When she had recovered from the brutal full body impact with the ground, she could see the cloud of dust had settled and the man who had so completely defeated her was nowhere to be seen. A group of novices had arrived and were righting racks of weapons and shields, sweeping dirt and dust from a cobbled square and raking the earthen practice grounds smooth.

“What’s your name?” A burly youth in a simple grey smock asked, offering her a hand up.

She back flipped to her feet, landing next to her sword, “Where I come from, it is customary to introduce yourself before asking another’s name.” Picking up Brightfang, she carefully inspected him. The wrapping on his hilt appeared to be a little loose.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’m Tam.” He said, “That was quite the show you put on. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone disarm the Sargent before.”

“You all use blunt weapons, it would be difficult for you. Besides, I missed. I was aiming for his arm.” She saw the shock register on his face, “I’m Callindra.”

“Ca lin drah?” He seemed to be rolling her name around in his mouth, “Callindra, why were you trying to cut the Sargent’s arm off?”

“He was trying to kill me Tam. If I hadn’t rolled away… I swear, that mallet came within inches of my head.”

Tam chuckled, “You aren’t the first to mistake his actions for killing intent. He just wanted you to stop holding back. How did you do that anyway?”

He gestured to the general disarray of the courtyard, overturned benches, spilled weapon racks and now she saw trenches on either side of a section of untouched ground. Her blast of wind hadn’t managed to dislodge her opponent and instead had been deflected around his shield, carving twin trenches in the packed earth of the practice ground and destroying the neat order of the equipment along the walls.

“Northwind style.” She said shortly, it had been reckless for her to use magic in a city as large as this one. Tam looked at her a little askance, but before he could comment further she asked, “Is there a bath somewhere around here? I need to clean up, we’re leaving today and Gods know when I’ll be able to bathe again.”

“Yeah, if you help me rake I’ll show you where it is.” He said with a grin.

“Fine. I guess it’s my mess anyway.” She sheathed Brightfang stiffly, her left shoulder was going to be one big bruise from that mallet strike. At least the bone hadn’t broken, though from the way it felt it had been a near miss.

Taking a loose toothed rake from the wall, she helped Tam level the grounds. In about a half hour they had smoothed out the worst of it and left two other apprentices to sprinkle water and pack it with large stone rollers.

“Bath is through here.” Tam said, walking in to a large changing area. There was no door on the entrance and Callindra could see a few men and women with damp hair getting dressed. Huh, a mixed bath.

She wasn’t wearing much, just her chest wrap, over shirt and under breeches and it only took her a few moments to disrobe. There were cubbies for personal effects, and she folded her clothes and laid her sheathed sword on top, wrapped in his baldric.

“I wish I had brought a change of clothes.” She muttered, then turned toward the bath. Tam was staring at her wide eyed.

“What?” She asked, looking at the mixed company in the changing room. “Never seen a naked girl before?”

“I – uh” he blushed, “I thought you were a boy. Sorry.”

Callindra shrugged, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She sat on a wooden stool and scrubbed the dirt and sweat away, trying to ignore Tam’s scrutiny, before rinsing and padding to the wide pool of steaming water for a good hot soak. Now that she was covered in water up to her neck Tam seemed a little less awkward.

“So you’re a sword fighter eh? That’s pretty cool.”

“Mmm.” The water must have soothing herbs or minerals or something in it, Callindra could feel the pain of her shoulder and her other scrapes and bruises easing.

“You must have seen quite a bit of action. Because of all your scars I mean.”

“Most of those are from training, the ones that aren’t from whippings when I was a kid anyway. But the biggest ones are from the road. Kobolds.” She raised her leg out of the water to point to the newly healed shallow cut that ran across her thigh.

“Whoa, that looks nasty.” He said, then his brow furrowed, “Your master gave you scars? What the hell kind of training is that?”

Callindra smirked and sunk back into the water. “My training wounds were all self-inflicted. Learning to wield a sword is a lot different that learning to use a hammer, and learning this fighting style is even more dangerous than normal swordplay. It suits my reckless nature, or at least that’s what I’ve always thought.” Well that’s what Glarian had always jokingly said. Thinking of him gave her a pang of loneliness.

She sat and soaked, mumbling answers to Tam’s curious questions and breathing in the thick steam that rose from the water. At the edge of hearing she could discern a voice, layered with disdain.

“-believe he is sending these children on a mission of this import!” This voice was high to the point of being shrill.

“Who else is there? We need the experienced hands we have here to train the initiates and the rest of our able bodied fighters who could be trusted with this task are currently committed to the field.” This voice was low, almost too quiet for her to hear.

“It’s better not to send anyone than to send these untried kids. The risk that they will ruin any further communication with the ancients is more than we can afford.”

“I disagree. They have definite potential. I tested one of them today as a matter of fact; she’s reckless, disrespectful and dangerous.” The voice paused, “But she has more strength in her than she knows.”

“Master Sergeant, I cannot condone-“

“Nobody is asking for your permission Deacon. It has been decided. The Biscop has spoken.”

The voices drifted off and Callindra felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the water. He thought she had potential did he? She grinned, “Well I had better get back to my companions. I’m sure if I don’t return soon they won’t let me eat before we leave for the ruins of Lin Lamorak.”

“Lin Lamorak?” Tam goggled at her, “Wait, you’re with … you are traveling with The Te’Chern?”

“Yeah, Tryst recruited us in Thornehold. I gather we just had to come here to get the instructions from the biscuit or whatever himself.” She stretched languidly. “Damn they put something in this water don’t they? It’s so relaxing.”

“You’re traveling with The Te’Chern?” His voice rose an octave, “I don’t believe it! I – uh no disrespect for making you help out there. I didn’t know who you were and…”

“What? That? It was nothing, this bath was totally worth the effort.”

“Do you have spare clothing? I will get your spare clothing, and make sure your soiled clothes are washed before you leave.” He scrambled out of the bath, “Just stay here and I’ll be right back. I’ll be right back.”

Callindra watched him rush out of the room, barely stopping to grab a towel on the way. Priests were weird she decided, even warrior priests. She soaked for a while, letting the water work its magic on her sore muscles and then reluctantly exited the pool, drying herself with a rough towel and padding back to the locker area.

Tam had taken her clothes but left a clean robe underneath Brightfang. She shrugged into it with an indifferent sigh and wondered how the hells she was going to get back to her room. She sighed again, deciding there was nothing to do but wait for Tam to return.

In a few minutes he came back into the room at a run, carrying a bundle of things in his hands. “Sorry it took so long, when I went to your room your … brother? gave me the supplies you asked for and your armor too.”

He set down a tall pair of boots, a set of thick leather greaves for her thighs along with her breastplate and a pile of clothes.
“Thanks Tam. He’s not my brother, unless brother in arms counts though.” She took off the robe and began dressing. The boots were a surprisingly good fit, they had a half dozen buckles that kept them tight to her calves all the way up to the knee the greaves felt strange on her thighs but didn’t seem to impede her movement as she had feared they might.
“Can you get this buckle?” Callindra asked, motioning to one of the sides of her breastplate, “It’s a pain in the ass to get completely tight.”

Tam hesitated but cinched her armor tight, his eyes going slightly wide. “Do you need anything else?”

“Just directions to my room. I sorta jumped out the window instead of using the stairs this morning.” She said, fastening her baldric over her shoulder and smiling at the shocked look on his face.

“But. Your room is on the third floor.”

“Really? It didn’t seem that high up to me.” She said with a grin, “Can you show me the way?”

“Uh yeah.” He turned and hurried into the building with her following close behind.

The City of Arkasia was much larger than Callindra thought possible.  The wall was visible from miles away and there were quite a few carriages and wagons on the road as well as other horses and a multitude of foot traffic.  In spite of all the travelers the traffic barely slowed at the gate.  A system of checking wagons and processing visitors allowed efficient entry without impeding the majority of them.

It only took a few minutes to give names, origin, destination and duration of stay.  Tryst handled the majority of the questions and all the others had to give were their names.  Inside the gate was a scene of chaos, throngs of people selling everything hungry, thirsty, tired travelers might want, sedan chairs being carried by well-muscled footmen, men and women in livery hurrying about on some errand or another for their House.

The noise was deafening and had it not been for Tryst’s sure knowledge of his destination and single-minded determination to reach it they would surely have been swept into the crowd and separated.  After the initial crush, the people thinned out and they were able to re-mount their horses.  They wound their way through the streets at a trot and arrived at a towering cathedral built from huge basalt blocks.

There was a large courtyard but no gate or fence.  Tryst handed the reins of his horse to a waiting stable boy and walked straight through the open front door.  “Tryst Te’Chern to see Biscop Mida.” He said to the first acolyte he came upon.  The unfortunate boy stared at the mountain of chainmaile and gaped in open-mouthed awe.

“Te’Chern?  THE Te’Chern?”

“The Biscop is engaged in a meeting with his advisors at the moment.” A man with greying hair, “You may wait for him in the antechamber.” He wore a simple robe but Tryst bowed in deference.

“As you wish Sir.  Do not trouble yourself, I know the way.”

He led them down a long hallway and through a plain wooden door.  A simple oak table had bread, fruit, salted pork and wine laid out for them to eat.

“THE Te’Chern?” Cronos asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“I may have made a bit of a name for myself in the academy.” He replied with a hint of chagrin, “Think nothing of it.”

Callindra sat at the table and poured herself a cup of wine.  It was cool and soothing on the back of her throat.  She loosened the straps on her armor and leaned back in her chair, looking around the room with idle curiosity.

In spite of the size of the cathedral, this room wasn’t all that much larger than the ones she had seen in the much smaller church in Thornehold.  The windows were tall, narrow slits with steel shutters that could be closed against weather or attack but still left ample room for an archer to fire from.  What reason could anyone have to build such a defensible structure in the middle of a large city?

“This was one of the first buildings to be completed when this area was first settled.” Tryst said, noticing her taking account of the militant construction of the room.  “We are also an Order that strives to uphold justice and peace, defending the weak and protecting the defenseless so much of our training revolves around combat.  The austere aspect of the building quickly winnows out those looking for a life of ease among the Priesthood.”

“Well-spoken young Te’Chern.”  A deep voice spoke from the hallway as a short, thick man entered.  He was barrel-chested and his arms were the size of Callindra’s waist.  His robes were the same rough woven wool that every other priest she had seen wore; however he wore a richly embroidered alb around his shoulders.

Tryst started, then turned and dropped to one knee.  “Lord Biscop, may I please have your blessing?”

The Biscop placed one hand on Tryst’s head and the other on the rim of his shield, “An arm to defend.  A mind to discern.  We offer Sanctuary of body and soul in a world of chaos.  May your arm be swift and your mind strong.”

He turned to the rest of them with a quizzical look on his face, “So these warriors have agreed to join you and complete the task I have set you to?”

“We agreed to hear you out anyway.” Cronos said, looking up from where he slumped at the table.  “Nobody’s said more than that yet.”

“The news I share with you is grave indeed.” He turned to face Cronos, “We began feeling a disturbance some time ago.  The Gods were restless, which is never a good thing and after a time we became aware that the followers of Gode had ceased to have their prayers answered by their God.”

“What?” Tryst sprang to his feet from where he had been kneeling, “How is that possible?  If the God of Creation is no more, then Onde can destroy everything!”

“Calm yourself child, if Gode was indeed gone we would cease to be.  This is not a problem that will end all of creation; it is merely a problem that faces us here in this realm.”  He paused and shook his head gravely, “Although the further a stone begins rolling downhill the more difficult it is to stop.  Tryst, you and your companions must find the remnants of the Lost Order.  Only they have the knowledge needed to re-establish contact with Gode.”

“Sounds interesting.  What’s in it for me though?” Asked Vilhylm.

“Your needs will be provided for along with suitable reward upon completion of your task.” The Biscop said, “We offer each of you the sum of one thousand pieces of gold for returning with the information we need.”

Callindra gaped in disbelief, she could buy a farm or a business, she could live comfortably for years.  More importantly she could finance her journey to find Glarian easily with that kind of money. “Done.” She said as soon as she recovered her composure.

After a few moments the others also voiced their assent.

“Excellent.” The Biscop said, “Now you will need to keep the horses lent from our Brothers in the south, we can ensure you have rations for the trail and coin for re-supplying.  Do any of you require armor or armaments?”

“I could use some greaves to complete my leather.”  Callindra said, “But Brightfang is all the weapon I need.”

“You don’t have anything I could use.” Vilhylm said, “Thank you for offering though.”

“A brace of daggers wouldn’t hurt.”  Cronos said, “I wouldn’t mind a chain shirt too if you can spare it.”

“I will have someone show you to your rooms then and make sure that your requests are fulfilled before you leave in the morning.”  The Biscop clapped his hands and a pair of figures wearing identical gray robes with the hoods pulled over their faces entered, beckoning them to follow.  “Tryst will be along shortly, he and I have some Church business to attend to.”

Callindra followed the robed figures to a room that could have been the exact same one she had slept in while in Thornehold other than the window looked out on a practice yard instead of a busy street.  Dozens of figures drilled with hammers and shields under the watchful eyes of several armored men.

There was a pitcher of chilled white wine and a plate of bread on the table in the common room and two separate sleeping quarters.  Feeling tired from her long time on the road, Callindra found a bath, then a bed.

The group had spent five days riding and thankfully had not seen any more trouble.  The sun was close to setting and they were approaching a small town.  Callindra seemed to remember Tryst calling it Gomreed apparently after the name of the grasses that grew at the edge of the lake from which many of the townsfolk made their living.

While Vilhylm and Cronos went to find lodging, Callindra and Tryst asked directions to the constable so that they might report the trouble they’d had with Kobolds.  Although it had been seven days this was the first place that had someone who would be able to send word to a Lord and Tryst was adamant that someone of authority be notified.

The cut on her thigh was healing nicely thanks to an ointment Tryst had given her, but it still itched bad enough to make her irritable.  After days in the saddle and sleeping on the ground at night Callindra was ready for a hot bath and a real bed, but Tryst insisted on seeing the constable before they secured lodgings.  She would have let him go on his own but he had asked her to accompany him.

“Callindra, I would welcome your input when reporting this matter to the authorities.” He had said, “I think you would give good perspective if they ask specific questions.  I am less skilled in tactics and warfare than you are.”

It was flattering and she agreed to go, in spite of her desire to slip into a hot bath.  As they made their way through the hard packed dirt streets of Gomreed, Callindra noticed they were attracting a lot of attention.  Some even went as far as to shutter windows and bar doors.

“Do you think there has been trouble here lately?  I don’t remember villagers being this fearful before, do you Tryst?” She asked.

“It just depends on where you go Callindra, every village is different.  Some fear outsiders and others welcome them.”  He sounded exhausted, worn to the limit.

They entered a business district with shops and a few taverns with music pouring out of their doorways. “Well either way let’s just find their magistrate or whatever and get to the inn.  My skin feels like it’s going to crawl away and I’m really looking forward to a hot meal.”  The familiar scent of tac touched her nostrils and she turned her head to find the source.  A small store was nestled between a pair of taverns, the sign above the door read ‘The Dry House’ and a man stood outside smoking a long stemmed pipe.

“Pardon me sir, would you know the way to the local constable?” Callindra said with a smile.  “We have something to report.”

“Run into trouble on the road?” He said, blowing a large smoke ring.  An errant breeze blew it spiraling erratically over their heads, although strangely enough it kept its shape.

“Something like that.  My name’s Callindra, this is my traveling companion Tryst.” She said, extending her hand.

“Fredrick.” He said, firmly shaking her hand, “The local magistrate’s office is just down the road on the right, you can’t miss the sign hanging over the street.  It’s a noose with a raven flying overhead.  Stop by on your way back, I can tell you’re interested in my wares.” He smiled and released her hand.

“Thanks Fredrick, maybe I will.” She said, “The smell brings back some memories I don’t want to lose.”

“Good luck.”

They continued down the street and soon saw the aforementioned sign.  Tryst stopped in the doorway, “Excuse me, is this the office of the Magistrate?”

A large man wearing a doublet stained with rust from armor came to the door.  “Yeah yeah, what is it now?”  He grumbled, “Someone had better be murdered.”

“I apologize sir, allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Tryst Te’Chern and this is my traveling companion Callindra.”  Tryst said, “I wish to report that a caravan was waylaid along the road approximately one sennight ago by kobolds.  There were no survivors.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”  He asked, “Out of my jurisdiction.  I don’t have any sway along the road, let alone the manpower even if I did have the authority.”

“Well as to that, we dealt with the problem.” Tryst said, “I just wanted to have the influx of those creatures to be reported to someone of authority.”

“Then why are you telling me?  If the problem’s solved then there’s even less I can do about it.”  He said, turning to go back into the building.

“Sir!” Tryst burst out, causing him to pause.

“Was there something else?  I have my dinner waiting inside and a tankard of good ale that’s getting flat.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience sir but could you please pass along messages to the Lords of nearby Holdings if I pen it out tonight?  It would carry more weight coming from a local Magistrate.”  Tryst almost managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Fine.” The Magistrate said and slammed the door in Tryst’s face.

“That fat, worthless…” Tryst took a deep breath, “He’s a disgrace to his position.”

“Come on Tryst, let’s go get a drink and some rest.” Said Callindra, reaching out to touch his elbow.

–

The bath was wonderful.  It was a wide, deep copper affair, set before a roaring fire in a tiled room.  A bottle of chilled wine sat within arm’s reach and there was an attendant with strong fingers to rub scented oils into her scalp and tense shoulder muscles.

“Can I get you aught else Miss?” The maid asked, setting down a thick robe next to the tub.

“Mmmm?”  Callindra raised her head slightly, “No, this is heaven.”

“You really a warrior?”

“Huh?”  Callindra reached for her wine glass and took a drink, “What’s your name?”

“Donna Miss.”

“Please call me Callindra Donna, Miss doesn’t quite fit.” She grinned and drained her goblet, “Yes I am a warrior, why?”

“Well, I never seen a woman what used a sword before.” Donna said, glancing at the sheathed Brightfang who lay within easy reach of Callindra’s right hand.  “Why you keep it so close?  Ain’t like someone gonna attack you here.”

“Brightfang isn’t just a sword Donna, he is my companion.” She smiled at the confused look on the woman’s face, “He is my friend who will never betray me as long as I stay true to him.  We are bonded.”

“Oh.” Donna gave her a direct, doubtful look, “That mean you don’t like men?”

“What?”  Callindra burst out laughing, “No, it just means that I don’t have to worry about anyone taking advantage of me, man woman or monster.”

Callindra’s laughter was infectious and the maid laughed along with her, “Sounds lonely, I wouldn’t mind that knight with the hammer takin advantage of me.”

“Knight?  Oh you mean Tryst?  He’s a priest, although I don’t know if his order is a chaste one or not.”  Callindra shrugged, “He’s pretty enough if you like that sort of thing.  I guess I never gave it much thought.”

She stood and Donna gasped, “Gods; that wound!” She exclaimed, pointing at the newly healed gash across her thigh.

“Yeah, it was a pretty nasty one.” Callindra said with a shrug, “It’s healing well though, mostly thanks to Tryst’s skills.  This one hurt too.” She said pointing to a long shallow scar across her rib cage, “Without my armor it might have killed me.”

“So many scars…” Donna’s voice trailed off as she saw the myriad of thin lines that crisscrossed her arms. “How you get em?  How old are you anyway?”

“I’m eighteen.  Most of these are from training, many are ones I gave myself.  Learning to wield a sword isn’t without its hazards.”

“Eighteen?  My younger sister’s eighteen, she’s been settled for near two years now.  Has the sweetest pair of boys you ever seen.”  Donna glanced over Callindra’s lean, muscled form and decided to stop talking about babies.

“Donna I wonder if you could get a couple pairs of men’s breeches that would fit me?  Maybe a shirt too.  I could do with some extra clothes.”

“Sure, no trouble.” Said Donna, “Well I best get to work.  Good ta meet you Callindra, I’ll bring the clothes you wanted up when we get em.  Should be with breakfast.”

Callindra regretfully looked at the empty wine bottle, but knew she should stick to water lest her head get the better of her the next morning.  She sighed, wrapped the robe Donna had left around herself, picked up Brightfang and made her way up to her room.

–

The next morning when Callindra woke she could hear the maids moving through the hallways.  Opening the door she found her new clothes folded and sitting outside her door just as Donna had promised alongside a tray with three small grilled fish, a pitcher of milk and half a loaf of bread so fresh it was still warm to the touch.

She dressed quickly and only paused to buckle Brightfang on over her tunic and grab the loaf of bread before heading out into the street, making her way back to The Dry House.  It had been a long time since she had smelled the particular blend of tac that Glarian used to smoke, but yesterday the scent had been strong.

When she arrived, Fredrick was just opening his shop.  A pot of strong tea was brewing over a small coal stove just inside the door and a heavy loaf of bread similar to the one she had consumed on the way here sat next to it.

“Ahhh… Callindra wasn’t it?” He said, looking up as she approached.

“Fredrick, I am interested in that blend you were smoking yesterday.”  She said, “I think it was an old friend’s favorite blend and the scent really brought back some pleasant memories.”

“You’re here very early my dear.  Why don’t you sit and have a cup of tea with me.  You can tell me of your travels and then we can talk business.”  He gestured to a pair of chairs outside the shop door with a steaming cup of tea.

“Thanks.” She said, sitting across the door from him.  “I’m not sure how much time I’ll actually have to chat though.  I need to stretch and practice before my party awakens.  I’m afraid we will be leaving today.”

“Tell me about this friend of yours at least then.”  He said, blowing on his tea to cool it, “It’s not just anyone who smokes Carilan Imperalus you know.”

“He saved my life.”  She sipped her tea and found it to be harsh and bitter, “I guess I don’t know much about him really.  As sad as it seems, we lived together for years and I never took the time to ask about his life.  I always thought there would be more time.  I won’t make that mistake again.”

Fredrick gave her a quizzical look over the rim of his teacup.  “That particular blend is one favored by the Keld’Ima.”  When she didn’t react he added, “The King’s personal bodyguards.”

Callindra laughed, a breeze swirling around her and playfully tickling the back of her neck, “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a bodyguard.  He lacks any real desire to take orders I think.  Besides you don’t seem the type either but I certainly smelled it coming out of your pipe yesterday evening.”

“True enough.” He said with a grin, “I acquired a taste for the Imperalus blends years ago.  Strong yet subtle, just the right balance of aroma and body.  I don’t know what the curing process is but it takes time and skill.  Your friend, whoever he is, has good taste.”

He rose and walked into the shop, refilling his teacup then making his way behind a counter to a wall set with a myriad of small doors from floor to ceiling.  He opened one and slid a drawer out, selecting a sealed leather pouch before closing it firmly again.

“Here you are, twenty silver for a packet of memories.”

Callindra balked slightly, her room for the night had only cost half that.  “Gods, I’ll need a pipe and flint as well at that price.”

“Consider it done.” He took a long, narrow box from beneath the counter and took a slender pipe with a long stem from it.  She could see delicate carvings of flowering vines all down the stem and around the bowl.  “This should fit your character quite nicely.”

She was about to protest until she saw the vines were climbing roses with thorns clearly defined.  “I suppose it does at that.  The next time I’m in town I will take the time to sit and share some stories of the road.”

Fredrick smiled and gave her a small bow from the waist, “I look forward to it Callindra.”