by Wil Ogden
"What?" Pantros said. "This is not a safe trip. We left Dale and Bouncer behind because the fewer, the safer."
"I agree," Sheillene said. She pointed to the corner by the stage where Thomas and Marc's guitars leaned against the wall by a matched pair of swords. "Marc says he knows how to use his swords, I expect we'll find out."
"And Thomas?" Pantros asked Marc. "What can he bring to a fight if we get ambushed?"
"Um, one more target to thin out the enemy?" Marc offered. "He knows which end of the sword to hold. He's pretty quick at running away too."
"And you've been in a fight for your life, how many times?" Sheillene asked.
Marc's voice seemed a bit meek when he replied, "The pressure in the last village tournament was intense. But that was a fishing tournament. Did I mention I can fish?"
Sheillene rolled her eyes and Pantros and stood up from the table. "I'll be outside. I'm counting to three hundred then leaving town." She put a hand on Pantros shoulder as she stepped away.
Pantros looked up at her when her hand didn't leave his shoulder. She was standing completely still, staring at the doorway. A familiar, dreadful growl told Pantros what he'd see when he followed her gaze. His fingers checked the bulge in his shirt. At last he understood what the creature wanted. Without looking at the doorway, Pantros dove away from the table, putting distance between himself and anyone else in the room.
The creature roared as it charged. Pantros came to his feet only to have to launch himself upward. He grabbed the ceiling rafters and pulled his feet up as the demon passed under him and crashed into the stone fireplace, sending a splash of embers into the room. The demon stood and turned, uncaring that it’s feet were deep in a pile of glowing coals.
Tara rushed over and started kicking coals off of the wood floors and back to the fireplace. Pantros dropped to stand between Tara and the Beast. He drew the Abvi sword and braced for the next charge.
"Move away from me you idiot." Tara said. "It's chasing that cursed stone. It'll ignore me."
Pantros, knowing that his sister was right, stepped sideways. The creature squatted then pounced. Bracing himself Pan held the point of the Abvi sword toward the beast. The beast never hit. Marc, his swords still leaning against the wall with his guitar, backhanded the beast, sending it sprawling to the ground.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Pantros lunged, pressing the tip of his blade through the creature's chest. As the one at the Hedgehog had, the beast vanished in burning cloud of ash.
"I was wrong," Sheillene said. "Fewer numbers are not the answer here."
"What?" Pantros replied. "You saw that thing. Why would we want to risk more lives?"
"But it's only after you." Sheillene motioned at Tara who was just finishing sweeping the fire back into the hearth. "Tara was unharmed, though she was at one time barely more than a handbreadth away from the Hound. Having more people along means we can control the fight by how we position ourselves around you. I don't even care if Marc can actually use his swords. With his size and strength, and knowing the beasts will always be chasing you, it's almost enough to be certain of your survival."
"I killed it," Pantros said.
Marc raised his forefinger, but it was Sheillene who spoke the point. "Actually Marc's knocking it to the floor was the deciding factor in that battle. You merely administered the inevitable."
Marc tapped the blade of Pantros' sword with his finger. "With a flimsy sword like that, you're not going to shift the trajectory of an airborne…whatever that was."
"Sheillene called it a Hellhound, just as James did." Pantros said. "Sheillene, have you seen these before?"
*Who is that oaf calling 'Flimsy'?*
"Yes," Sheillene said. "Well, in books and a couple tapestries, not in person."
Pantros looked around. "Who said that?"
"Me," Sheillene said.
*Me.*
Pantros leaned to look behind Marc. "Not what you said, Sheillene. Who called Marc an oaf?"
"No one said anything about Marc being an oaf," Sheillene said. "I think I asked if he was an ogre last night."
*He called me flimsy, I called him an oaf.*
"Hold this please." Pantros handed his sword to Sheillene then dropped to the floor, searching under the tables. He crawled around behind the bar, but no one was there.
"I know what's talking," Sheillene said. "I just heard it too."
"I'm not hearing anything, now. Don't humor me." Pantros stood up behind the bar
"Your sword is insisting I return it to you." Sheillene walked over and set the sword on the counter. "It's very finicky about who touches it."
"This is talking?" Pantros picked up the sword.
*Yes,* the sword said. It took a moment for Pantros to realize he wasn't actually hearing the sword with his ears but with his mind.
"It's a nice sword," Sheillene said. "Too nice for a human, many Abvi would say. Do I want to know the story about how a human boy came to possess an Abvi Ensouled Blade?"
"Not much of a story, really." Pantros shrugged. "James gave it to me. I may not be twenty yet, but I'd think what I've faced has earned the title of 'man'."
*My owner is a human boy?*
"In my eyes you've been a man since you robbed Grey Ed of every last penny and gave the money to the folk of orphan's row."
Pantros groaned. "It's really hard to hold two conversations at once."
"Sheath the sword," Sheillene said. "It's only conscious when unsheathed."
Pantros did as Sheillene suggested. "Grey Ed was scum. He stole pennies from the penniless. I didn't rob him of everything though. I did, in fact, leave him with precisely one penny. And that part about Orphan's row is pure fiction. Who told you this story?"
"Rumors, mostly. Grey Ed was very vocal in his search for the boy in black silk. So vocal that it got him half-keelhauled when he got too loud in the presence of some captain with a hangover."
"Half Keelhauled?" Marc asked. "Is that half as bad as a full keelhaul?"
"Only if you can breathe water," Sheillene said. "It means they stop when they've hauled the poor sap half way around, which pretty much leaves them right at the keel." She turned back to Pantros. "And I know the part about Orphan's row is not fiction. The tales of silver coins appearing in people's soup or in their fireplaces was not the blessings of the volcano, but the work of the best roof-walker I know of."
"Isn't robbing from the rich to give to the poor a bit cliché?" Marc asked, "It’s like something from a bard's fairy tale."
"First," Pantros said, keeping his voice almost to a whisper as the tavern began surging back to life, "this will be the only conversation we ever have about my professional work. Second, I don't usually give to anyone, rich or poor. I pretty much just hoard everything. Ed was stealing from easy targets who couldn't afford to miss a penny. I simply returned to them what had once been theirs. Grey Ed's actions were getting the city ready to organize a night watch, watching for burglars. I did what needed to be done to keep my income methods safe. And third, weren't we leaving town?"
"Yes." Sheillene grabbed her bow, her quiver and her satchel. "Marc, grab Thomas and Tara, we're walking. We'll walk slowly until the three of you catch up. Out the front door and left to the edge of town, then keep going."
Pantros grabbed his sack and followed Sheillene out the door. Once outside he asked, "So are we making a run for it? Keeping them safely left behind?"
Sheillene didn't even look at him; she just shook her head and said, "I was serious about the additional numbers being helpful. We're walking slow and letting them catch up. Once they do, we'll be keeping as fast a pace as possible. I want to make it to Melnith in as few days as we can. We're even taking the dangerous route. It means we'll probably have to deal with Vulak raiders, too. Again, the additional numbers will play to our favor when the Vulak attack us."
"If numbers are so great, why not go back and get Bouncer?" Pantros asked as they walked towards the west end of town.
CHAPTER 9: PANTROS
The first two days travelling along the old road through the forest went uneventfully aside from the daily hellhound attack. As Sheillene predicted, dispatching the demons became simple, particularly with her being able to use her bow. Pantros felt relieved that he didn't have to draw his sword again; he wasn't ready for another awkward conversation with an old Abvi soul. Marc, on the other hand seemed a little let down that the beasts never came close enough for him to use his weapons.
Sheillene could drop them long before Pantros was at risk. When, on the sixth day out of Stonewall, no demons appeared in the morning, it set everyone on edge for the remainder of the day.
"We should be passing into the Kingdom of Relarch today," Sheillene said after lunch on the seventh day. "We've been lucky. Since the disbanding of the Ignea government, I've not heard of anyone travelling the highway without being attacked by raiders of some sort."
"We don't have anything of value with us to raid," Thomas said. "It's not exactly obvious that the boy has a king's ransom in his satchel."
"Thanks, Thomas," Pantros said. "What if some bandit scout is listening?"
"Then Marc might finally get to show you that he does know how to use his swords," Thomas said.
Sheillene tilted her ear to the wind. "We're alone, here. There's an odor in the air, though. Something nasty is near to the west. Before dinner we should pass through the Abandoned Arch, and then we'll be on the heavily guarded roads of Relarch. Don't let the name fool you, the last time I passed through the Arch, it had a dozen Knights stationed there. But even on the safe kingdom kept roads, it's best not to mention who has how much coin."
"That pack's got to weigh as much as Marc," Tara said. "I couldn't lift the one you left behind the ovens."
"That was all coins," Pantros said. "I brought my gem bag. There are only a few handfuls of gold. Mostly, it's gems and jewelry with some folded felt to keep the pretties safe."
Marc pointed over the next hill along the road. "That banner there, those are Relarch's colors?"
"Should be," Sheillene said.
Pantros could barely see the tip of a flagpole until he got closer. By the time he could make out the black and gold striped banner, he could hear people yelling.
"Battle?" Marc asked.
Sheillene ran ahead, nocking an arrow as she ran. "Come!" she yelled.
Marc drew his swords, and followed after her. Pantros followed as well but left his rapier sheathed. Looking back, to see if his sister followed, he saw Thomas holding his sword and staying close to Tara, both of them jogging along behind..
As they crested the hill, they passed Sheillene who'd stopped and was reloading her bow after releasing her first shot. Below, Pantros saw a stone archway with a tower beside it but his attention was immediately drawn by several armored men battling against large humanoids with greenish-gray skin.
"Trolls?" Pantros asked, setting his satchel on the ground.
"Yes," Sheillene said. "They're hard to kill, you have to pierce their heart or sever their neck."
"I was hoping not to have to do this again," Pantros said as he ran down the hill towards the fight. He drew his sword as he came within twenty paces of the back of one of the trolls. Marc had already engaged another.
*Trolls!* the swords voice spoke in his mind. *You have to pierce their heart. It's the center of their bellies, not in their chest like a human or Abvi.*
Pantros didn't respond. He hoped to sneak up to the fight without being noticed. He approached a troll that was facing a knight. The grayish skinned troll stood twice as tall as Pantros, and he had to reach up to thrust his rapier through the center of the monster's lower back. The deerskin the troll wore draped over its shoulder did not hinder Pantros' blade. The troll spun, swinging a huge clawed hand at Pantros. It caught his shoulder and threw him through the air. Unable to get his feet beneath him, Pan hit the ground rolling. He came to his feet between the legs of another troll.
The troll looked down at Pantros with a grin of many large sharp teeth. Pantros quickly thrust his rapier up through the trolls chin and into its brain. The troll fell to the side. Pan thrust the rapier a few times through the creature's naval, just to be sure.
*I got the heart,* his sword said.
Pantros looked around to decide where to offer his help next. Marc hacked through the neck of the troll he'd been fighting. Two of the Knights were still standing, both fighting the same troll. Pan was about to head over to get behind that troll when Marc yelled, "Pan, behind you!"
Pantros spun, swinging his rapier at whatever would be there. The sword bit into the thigh of a troll, but the troll didn't seem to care as it clawed at Pan's face. Ducking and parrying and giving ground, Pantros couldn't find an opening to launch a counterattack. A sharp pain tore through his left ear so he dove to the right as three arrows sprouted from the troll’s belly. The troll fell forward, missing Pantros as he rolled to his feet. Sheillene was standing only a couple paces away.
"Sorry about the ear," she said. "One scratch is better than the four you'd have gotten from that claw. Besides, I'm sure I keep my arrows cleaner than those fingernails."
The shreds of silk that used to be his shirt were now covered in blood. Much of it was his blood, and not all came from the nick in his ear. When the troll had tossed him, several of the troll’s talons had caught a little skin.
"We're done here?" Pantros asked noticing that none of the trolls still moved.
*Clean me before you put me away,* his sword said. *unless you'd like to chat a little, maybe?*
"Maybe later," Pantros said, wondering if maybe he owed his sword some conversation time. He wiped the blade clean with the remnants of his shirt then sheathed it. "Do any of the fallen knights still breathe?"
"They got torn up pretty bad," Sheillene said. "That one laying over there by the archway looks to be in one piece and the two talking to Marc seem mostly fine." Marc and the armored men near him were also walking among the fallen, checking for life.
Pantros went to help the knight on the ground while Sheillene checked for others still alive. A groan coming from the visored helm gave Pantros hope.
"The battle's done," Pantros said, kneeling by the knight. "Can you stand?"
"I think not," the man in the armor said. "My leg's out."
Noticing a small pool of blood seeping from the dented metal plates over the man's thigh, Pantros could see how that would be problematic. It wasn't so much blood that the man's life was in immediate danger, but to be sure, Pantros pulled his knife and cut the leather straps, releasing the leg armor. After cutting through the cloth of the man's pants, Pantros could see blood seeping from a small lesion on a large bruise.
"Your leg's been crushed," he told the knight."It looks like you were hit so hard the blood burst from the far side of your leg."
"That's what happened," A woman's voice said. One of the other knights knelt beside Pantros. Without her helm, Pantros could see that the other knight was actually a woman. She prodded around the crushed leg with her hand.
"Meredith, stop," the man on the ground said. "That hurts."
"The bone's intact, David," she said to the knight on the ground. "You can probably walk with only severe pain. Not that you'd want to." She held her hand towards Pantros. "Lend me that knife, if you would.
Pantros flipped the knife in his hand and passed the handle to Meredith. She cut David's pants into strips and then tied them around the man's leg as a bandage.
"The others are all dead," Another knight said as he walked up with Shei
llene and Marc at his side. The knight seemed to be a man about Tara’s age.
"I didn't think any had made it, your highness," Meredith said.
"Highness?" Pantros asked.
Sheillene motioned at the knight standing beside her. "Pantros, this is His Highness, Estephan, Prince of Relarch." She then introduced Pantros to the prince."Prince Estephan, this is Pantros Phyreshade of Ignea."
"Ah, Your Majesty," The prince said, then bowed to Pantros.
Pantros was unsure why a prince was bowing to him. He stood and looked around at his friends' faces for a clue as to what was happening. "I'm a little confused," he said.
Prince Estephan asked, "Are you not the same Pantros Phyreshade known as the King of Thieves?"
"Umm," Pantros said.
"He is," Sheillene said, looking away from Pantros. "He just might not know it. I don't tell the stories about him in Ignea and as far as I know, I'm one of a very few bards who travel between Ignea and the rest of the world."
"You tell stories about me?" Pantros asked.
"I'm not the only one," Sheillene said. "Other bards tell my stories about you too. That story about Grey Ed is pretty popular in Fork and some other towns around Relarch, not to mention Everton. It's not like I ever expected you to leave Ignea."
"I don't mean to be rude but should we bury the dead?" Marc asked. His shirt was also torn and he had four parallel shallow cuts across his chest.
"We will," Estephan said. "First, let's take David inside the tower. Today's stew might still be warm, if you're stomach will take food. You're welcome to join us for the evening meal."
"I doubt I can eat," Pantros said. "I'm not sure my stomach will hold whatever is in there now. Fighting like this and all the death are new experiences for me and not ones I'd like to get used to."
"It kind of made me feel more alive," Marc said. "Well, not kind of, definitely made me feel like this is what I was meant to do with my life."
"Again, you're sure you're not part ogre?" Sheillene asked.
A quiet somber mood stayed with them for the remainder of the evening as they buried nine knights. After a brief ceremony, Meredith began chiseling the knights' names into the stone of the archway, starting with each knights' initials while the other gathered the troll bodies into a pile. Their bodies were too big to bury or move far. As they retired to the tower, Estephan set the pile of trolls aflame.