by Gil Hough
CHAPTER 12
TO WALK AN OLD PATH
Rodregas was surprised to find a pile of equipment outside his door the next morning, and Imeralda sorting through the pile. It appeared to be mostly their equipment plus miscellaneous pieces of slaver gear. Doi’van stood watching, clearly not sure what to make of it.
When Rodregas tried to apologize Imeralda ignored him and instead said, “We traded the Immortal Guard equipment for safe harbor here at the village for healing. But, of course, there were also regular slaver guards and I claimed their equipment and any money that was in their personal money pouches.”
“Your armor got pretty chopped up,” she continued, “and Doi’van did not have any armor to start with. I have been trading excess gear and coins to repair armor and to refit some of the other armor to fit Doi’van and yourself. We still had our three horses, but none of them were too great to begin with; the two were good for pulling carriages, the other was too old.”
“True,” Rodregas said nodding his agreement.
“Jordaan knows horse flesh,” she went on, “and we were able to trade the three old horses for one of the Immortal Guards’ horses. I will be honest, he is a big ugly brute and not war trained and his Dire blood is marginal. But Jordaan thinks he can actually handle Doi’van’s weight. The Nymphs were not that interested in keeping him because for a Dire steed he is slow.”
Doi’van said, “A steed that can handle me? That would make a nice change of pace.”
Imeralda continued, “He along with the two best of the slavers’ horses that I claimed. That means we now have three decent riding horses. Not the Dire war mounts that I know you want, but an upgrade on what we had. The local armorer was also able to piece together some steel chain that was decent quality and a good leather harness for Doi’van and he was able to repair your armor. You now also have some chain that should fit over your leather armor.”
Imeralda added, “I was able to recover only about a score of the arrows, but I have been working with some of the wood nymphs and the armorer and we now have a full set of arrows again.”
Doi’van, at her motion towards his armor, picked up the pile of chain mail and tried it over his head. The opening on top actually fit over his huge head. Doi’van guessed that it had been the chain of the large overweight slaver that he had killed. While the equipment was all of average quality, Rodregas was smiling because clearly there were three sets of everything plus a pack horse for equipment. Imeralda was clearly planning on joining them. While that is what his heart hoped for he was not sure if it was the smartest move.
When they were working on the tack for the horses, he went ahead and asked. “Imeralda, I want to make sure you want to continue with us. I mean I love to travel with you, but while Doi’van and I are warriors, when you joined us it was only as a travel companion. If you want to stay with the village or stay with Jordaan I will understand. You know that by now they will be hunting us, if not because of Ravenhurr’s death, than because of the missing Immortal Guards.”
“You know that I probably killed more slavers with the Black Yew bow than either you or Doi’van right?” asked Imeralda with a snort.
“Your abilities are not of question,” Rodregas responded. “Your abilities as a Forest Nymph and as an archer make you a very deadly woman. As you gain control over your magical powers you will only become more dangerous. The question is whether you want to fight?”
Imeralda nodded and she hesitated. “I will be honest,” she said. “I am a little torn, I have never been as afraid as during and after the battle. I have truly come to care for both of you. I have met few men of such character and willingness to take on the Guild of the Celestial Path and all their power.” She continued, “I want to be with you. I want to share this journey, but I am not a warrior. And the two of you were so close to dying on me, and next time I might not be able to save you and you might die…,” she paused. “I could handle dying, but I am not sure I could handle having you die in my arms.”
“Imeralda,” said Doi’van, “we must all walk our own paths. Rodregas and I have made a choice, we will fight. Whether the Gods are on our side or not, we will fight. You need to find your own path; you are talented and young and have the world at your feet. We cherish the time that you joined us.”
Rodregas nodded, Doi’van’s words had captured his own thoughts. He was no boy to put his own needs over another. “I agree, I cherish the time we have had together, but you must walk your own path. The Grimoires and Mithril chain and bow are yours to keep, my gifts to you. Your gifts to me are far greater.”
“So where do you go now?” asked Imeralda. “You can’t look for slavers on the road; they will be reinforced after the one caravan goes missing.”
Rodregas nodded. His thoughts had traveled in a similar direction. “I have been thinking about what you said about it making sense for me to get a greater sigil. I have more magic than I need. There is only one other group besides the Guild that has is allowed to give sigils, the Knights of the Soaring Heavens; from who the Gods choose their champions.”
Imeralda and Doi’van had both become quite intrigued by what Rodregas was hinting at. He continued, “I was a squire in the Knighthood who was never raised. As you probably know most squires are not raised, only those of the most noble blood and those of greatest talent in both magic and the arts of a warrior. I was neither. I had thought that I would make a career in the army,” he paused after admitting that. His time as a squire was like magic to him, and his time in the army had been a living nightmare.
“Once a year directly after the new group of knights is raised, a great competition is held; a five days open tournament. Any previous squire is eligible to compete. The winner of this competition is raised to knighthood,” Rodregas added.
“You mean to enter the tournament for the right to knighthood?” asked Doi’van.
“The tournament is held twenty days after the autumn equinox at the Great Cathedral of Oravue. I believe that to be in about ten days and it is about a seven day ride from here,” said Rodregas.
“You would challenge for knighthood,” said Imeralda quietly. “That is not a bad idea, while the Guild will be on the hunt for you, they would not expect you to be in such an event, and you will be surrounded by other warriors. They would have no room to suspect you.”
“There are a few problems. I would need to show proof that I was a squire, which I have,” said Rodregas. As he spoke he reached into his pouch and pulled out his old Squire patch. He showed them the old beaten cloth, the one memento that he had taken with him from his old life. The only problem would be if someone asked too many questions about when and where he had trained.
“It might not work,” said Rodregas. “but I think it worth the effort to try.”
Doi’van nodded but said, “It is a worthy goal, but what of me? The knighthood is mostly a human thing; Hellborn especially will not be welcome to attend the event.”
Rodregas nodded but said, “If you are ok with calling yourself and acting as my sworn man, you could enter the Cathedral and stay with me. They won’t be happy about it, but they cannot challenge who I bring with me.”
“I would love to figure out a way to smuggle you into the room of the sigils, not likely… but something we can check out,” Rodregas added.
“And what about Nymphs?” asked Imeralda.
“What do you mean?” asked Rodregas.
“If I am your sworn ‘man’ could you also bring me into the Cathedral?” she asked.
Rodregas nodded, “Yes, I have known some Orqui and AElves who have joined the knighthood. I cannot think of any Hellborn or Nymphs staying there during my time. But that is more of a matter of the rareness of Hellborn, and Nymphs have never shown interest in joining the knighthood.”
“While I am still hesitant to say that your cause is mine, I do wish to keep traveling with you two. I have always heard stories of the knights and would enjoy visiting the Cathedral. It is suppose
d to be a place of great magic and many myths and stories.”
Rodregas nodded, he could not help smiling. He enjoyed the company of the two of them. It would be good to continue to travel together.
The next day Imeralda arranged to send a group of fellow Forest Nymphs back to the farm to put a roof on the old farmhouse. It was probably not worth the cost of some of their excess equipment and limited gold, but the three of them all had good memories of the farm and liked the idea putting a roof back on the structure. The Nymphs with their connection with nature were the only humanoids unlikely to be attacked by the Dire Cats.
The biggest surprise came when Jordaan came to say goodbye. Rodregas had his stuff all spread out in the room he had been using, organizing what would go where. The trunk had been left in the barn back at the farm, but its contents were now in his saddlebag.
Rodregas had signaled Jordaan to wait a moment as he rolled his gear up. He was wrapping some of the Grimoires that they were not reading and the small mechanical toy frog that he had picked up in Ravenhurr’s laboratory when Jordaan made a funny sound and stepped forward.
Jordaan seemed to be staring at the package and Rodregas wondered if he had recognized one of the Grimoires. Jordaan pointed at the newly wrapped package and said, “Excuse me, but can I see that?”
Rodregas nodded and curiously handled the half wrapped pack over to the Nymph wondering what had captured his attention. The Nymph slowly laid the package on the bed and unwrapped it. His hand passed over the contents in a motion similar to what he had done while working on Rodregas. To Rodregas’ surprise he stopped at the small toy frog. Jordaan glanced over to him as if asking for permission and Rodregas nodded his ok.
Jordaan reached down and carefully picked up the small frog and cupped it in his hands. His eyes were closed in concentration. He looked up at Rodregas with a confused expression and asked, “Do you know what this is?”
“Not really, I found it in Raven Keep. It felt of magic so I took it. I thought it might be worth something.”
Jordaan smiled and laughed as he said, “Worth something indeed. This is a minor Sigil of Healing.”
It was Rodregas who gasped this time and said, “Infernals! We had a Sigil of Healing all this time? If we had inscribed this sigil back at the farm we would never have needed your help.”
Jordaan nodded at the truth of Rodregas’ words and the two of them quickly gathered the others. All agreed that no matter what might happen with the greater sigils that all should gain the minor Sigil of Healing. Its benefits to warriors and mages alike were well known. Jordaan agreed to do the inscribing and show the others the technique. In return Imeralda would inscribe Jordaan who was also eager for the sigil.
Jordaan had his hand out with the palm facing up. At Jordaan’s direction Rodregas put his own, palm up, on top of it. The frog went on top and Jordaan’s other hand went on top of the frog. Jordaan then said, “This is going to hurt, it will feel like someone is drawing a pattern under your skin with a knife. If you pull away before it is done, you will mess up the pattern and it will use up your magic without adding the benefits of the sigil.”
As Jordaan finished speaking he looked in Rodregas’ eyes until he nodded his understanding. He knew what was coming. He could feel Jordaan’s magic start to pour into his hands and into the frog. A sensation emanating from the frog began to fill his senses. Without Rodregas’ conscious will, his own magic raised from the core of his being. The two magic forces seemed to mix and then enter the frog. They seemed to pour from the frog back into his own body. That power felt like a thousand small knives digging into his flesh.
His body tightened and he could feel Jordaan’s hands hold him firm. Rodregas struggled to keep his arm from spasming in pain. He knew that Jordaan could not really keep his arm from moving. He kept thinking that the ordeal would be over soon. When it continued he started to worry about his ability to keep from jerking away from the small figurine. Just when he was sure that he could not keep his arm still the pain smoothed and stopped.
As Jordaan relaxed his grip and released him, Rodregas shook his arm and then his body, trying to feel the difference. It felt almost like someone had drawn all over him from the inside, but there was no visible difference. There was no sign that a bit of his magic had been used up in the creation of a permanent effect.
Rodregas sat and watched as Doi’van and then Imeralda undertook the inscription of the minor sigil. From Rodregas’ perspective the next two seemed to withstand the pain a lot better than then he had. After all three were completed Imeralda used her magic to inscribe Jordaan. The healing sigil was the only sigil commonly used by magic users. A few were known to use sigils that improved memory or allowed one to store excess magic.
After the sensation faded Rodregas felt no different than before. Rodregas had the feeling that Jordaan would have liked to keep the little frog; it was a powerful tool in the hands of an Elemental Healer like Jordaan, but Rodregas was not willing to give it up, and Jordaan never actually asked.
The next morning they headed out for the Cathedral of Oravue.