The Companions of Tartiël (40 page)

Wild let the tall human lead him to an office, where the two of them sat across from each other, Father Coëty’s desk between them. “Well, although I was for a brief time the head priest of a smaller church—more a shrine than anything, really—I am not a conduit for Alduros Hol’s divine power. I leave that to greater men than myself. My skills lie in numbers and words, and I am told I can handle them rather well.”

“A bookkeeper, then?” Coëty asked, receiving a nod in reply. “You know, we actually do find ourselves in need of your skills…”

 

*

 

Wild finally flopped down onto the bed offered to him by Coëty. It had been an exhausting day, but he was already looking eagerly forward to the next. After the events with the previous two temples of Alduros Hol, first outside of Viel and then in Andorra, Wild’s curiosity was spilling over as he wondered if the clergy at this temple, too, were a part of the nefarious organization that had taken over the religion. So far, he had found no indicators that these clerics had malign designs, but then again, Father Cobain had appeared quite normal until he had transformed into a werewolf.

Coëty had verily tossed Wild into the library and given him a no-helmet crash course in their bookkeeping system. Wild had been instructed to audit and then copy a pile of records and was promised room, board, and other services here while he was helping the temple.

He, of course, considered this of great interest; Wild soon discovered that the records he was copying were none other than finance ledgers which held all the information as to the temple’s cash flow. He hadn’t had enough time on his own to scrutinize them entirely, but he could be patient.

The halfling briefly gave thought to sending word to his companions as to his whereabouts, but then he thought better of it. Kaiyr was probably still distraught over… well, over everything, and while Caineye might wonder where Wild was spending his time, he might not appreciate discovering the halfling snooping about a church belonging to the druid’s religion.

Wild’s eye wandered over to the bookshelves in his room. There were quite a number of books lining them, and it was not long before he was on his feet and clambering up to read the titles on their spines. “You know,” he muttered to himself as he pulled out several volumes on Alduros Hol lore and dogma, “if I’m going to pretend to be a priest here, it might be useful to know what kinds of things to say… and not to say.”

With that thought in mind, he hopped down from the shelves and dropped a pile of books next to his bed. Then, selecting the first one that came to his hand, he flipped it open on his pillow and read himself to sleep.

 

XXXIII.

Solaria moved quickly through the surging tides of the busy street. Kaiyr, however, was swifter, and he caught up to her a block away from the temple of Arvanos Sinterian, under the shade of an enormous tree that had apparently been turned into Alduros Hol’s temple.

“Lady Solaria,” he said, breathless not from his run but out of concern for the nymph.

She had slowed to a halt, leaning over with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. The task was made all the more difficult for her gasping, tormented sobbing. “No,” she managed. “Please, Kaiyr. I…” She trailed off and started walking away from Kaiyr, her footsteps heavy.

The blademaster paused with his arm outstretched, watching her go. When she slowed her pace slightly, just enough for him to notice, he understood and fell in behind her, several paces away.

She led him rather aimlessly through the temple district as she vainly tried to calm her nerves, Kaiyr could tell. She stumbled often, and he could see her shoulders shaking from time to time. But he understood her need to be alone with her thoughts, and so he contented himself with following in the sweet air of her wake.

At last, long after the sun had passed its zenith, Solaria turned back onto the street leading to Arvanos’s temple. A large park near the giant Alduros Hol oak temple offered shade and a place to rest on several benches. She led the way down several footpaths, and with each step, the sounds of Ik’durel’s bustling streets faded a little bit more until finally they disappeared altogether.

When the two of them at last had the solitude Solaria craved, she found a bench at the side of the path and sat down, smoothing her sun-colored dress out and fussing at the wet marks her tears had left on the fabric. Silent as was his wont, Kaiyr joined her but did not seat himself; rather, he stood next to the bench and stared into the trees, his eyes stoic.

“You must hate me,” Solaria said at great length, after the blademaster had stood sentinel over her for the better part of an hour. Her delicate fingers grabbed at the fabric of her dress in frustration and in anticipation of the confirmation that would follow.

But none was forthcoming. Instead, the elf with her took two steps so that he was facing her. Dropping to one knee, Kaiyr looked up into her violet eyes. “You know that is not true, Lady Solaria.”

She wrenched her gaze away from his, staring at the forest loam. “But… but I’ve taken her place. I stole her body without even knowing it! Kaiyr, I don’t know if I should even exist!” Her fists shook with frustration, and tears sprang from her eyes once more, to run down her smooth cheeks.

Kaiyr, too, let his eyes fall from her face, at first following the trail of tears down to her chin, then down her arms and to her hands. Finally, he lifted one voluminously-sleeved arm and gently placed his hand over hers. She tensed, and he feared she might bolt again, but after a minute, although she remained nervous, Solaria had made no attempt to rise. “Lady Solaria,” he said, his voice gentle, “yesterday, you said that I no longer frightened you. I beg of you not to fear me now. I do not bear you ill will.”

“But I stand between you and Astra,” Solaria argued, but when her eyes flashed with frustration and caught his gaze, she could read in him only forgiveness.

“No,” the blademaster said at length, straightening only long enough to take a seat next to her. Solaria, feeling quite lost, let herself lean against him, lightly. “No, you do not. What happened to the Lady Astra was precipitated by her enemies, by my enemies; and there was more before that. The circumstances around your appearance are mysterious, indeed. Some fey creation, a Nemesis, came seeking Lady Astra after her death.” He looked down at her; although he enjoyed the warm, light pressure of her body against his arm, he made no move to reciprocate, keeping his hands in his lap. A small part of him whispered desperately to him to reach an arm around her and hold her close, but the rest of him rejected that idea. He told himself that, despite their similar appearance, Solaria was not Astra.

A sigh escaped his lips. “But you already know this,” he finished.

“Are… are you going to resurrect her, anyway?” Solaria asked, her voice small and her body trembling. “I… I would gladly give my life for your cause, Kaiyr.”

“No!” the blademaster shouted, though he strangled the word so it was not too loud. Nevertheless, Solaria jumped back and stared up at him. His expression turned gentle again, though, and he continued, “Please, do not suggest such a thing, Lady Solaria. I would not dream of bringing you harm for such a selfish desire.”

More tears came. “But Kaiyr, your life would be more complete if she came back,” Solaria protested. “I won’t accept your mercy just because you don’t want to kill me. Admit it, if Astra could come back, you would be a happier man! Why won’t you do it? I don’t even belong in your world!”

“Lady Solaria!” the blademaster exclaimed in surprise at her outburst, his eyes wide. For a moment, he was not sure what he should do, but then he was hit by sudden insight into the troubled woman’s soul. She had been thrust into a harsh world that never stopped moving. All alone, she had been forced to learn, very quickly, how to act and how to survive. She had received only minimal attention from the party, who was too distressed by her similarity with Astra to get close to her. And so, she had remained alone all this time, like an orphaned child.

He should have felt awkward, but for some reason, Kaiyr felt the motion of his arm natural as he reached up and touched her cheek, brushing away the tears and drying them with his sleeve. His touch, however, only spurred her to greater distress, and more glittering drops flowed from Solaria’s eyes as she tossed her head, finally crashing into Kaiyr’s chest, weeping.

Slowly, carefully, Kaiyr wrapped his arms around her back and held her tenderly. “Treasure this life, Lady Solaria,” he said, his voice full of unexpected passion as the thick fabric of his robes muffled her cries, “for it is a great gift. It is not a simple matter for me to tell you to die so another might be reborn. Your life is your life, and you belong to no one. Not myself, nor Lady Astra, nor Lady Luna, nor even any of the gods. Please, Lady Solaria, do not begrudge yourself this life of yours. You do not wrong me by living it.”

She reached up and grabbed his shoulder, using it to pull herself up so she could look at him, her eyes red and her face wet with tears; there was a similar wet splotch on Kaiyr’s dark blue robes. “But… Kaiyr, you are too sad to bear. You don’t show it to others, but I can see it in you,” Solaria said, sniffling in between her words. “I see it every time you look at me. I can’t explain why, but… I want to see you happy, Kaiyr.”

The blademaster shook his head, then brushed his hair out of his face. “I… my lady, I grieve the loss of a friend. And, because you look so much like her, I cannot help but be reminded of such a fresh wound, a wound that has not even healed.” When she broke eye contact, he gently put two fingers under her chin and met her heliotrope eyes again. “If you wish to please me, Lady Solaria, then what I ask of you is not your death; no, in fact, it is quite the opposite. Live. Live to the fullest this life which you have received. I will only be aggrieved if you waste it, my lady.”

His words seemed to calm her even though she put her head down and cried some more. After several minutes, she calmed down and sat up, though she still leaned on his shoulder.

Wiping a final, straggling tear from her left eye, she gave him a radiant smile. “Thank you, Kaiyr. You… you are far kinder than I had at first thought.” She laughed slightly, and then added, “I had no idea you were this gentle.”

Kaiyr turned to face her, and he graced her with one of his rare and fleeting smiles. “Part of being a blademaster is loving and respecting life, preserving it in its beauty. It is, perhaps, one of the aspects of our path that is not often stressed and all too frequently overlooked, hidden behind our flashing soulblades. I thank you for your praise, Lady Solaria. I am gladdened to see you smile so freely. Will you do as I ask and live your life rather than throw it away?”

Chuckling nervously, Solaria nodded. “I will!” she told him with an emphatic nod of her head; then she sobered. “I… I’m also afraid to die. I didn’t really want to do it.”

Sensing that their conversation was nearing an end, Kaiyr rose and offered his hand to her. “Then that, too, is reason to rejoice. There is no glory in death, only silence. Even those who die protecting others, while their deaths may be noble, are still lives lost. But come; shall we return to the inn? If you so desire, we might find a meal during the journey.”

She nodded but did not take his hand. “Is something the matter, Lady Solaria?” the blademaster asked.

Nodding bashfully, Solaria replied in a small voice, “My feet hurt from walking so far in these shoes.” Her fingers twined nervously in her lap.

Kaiyr, however, found yet another of these strange but increasingly familiar forces tugging the corners of his lips upward. He did not see a reason to remind her that he had been the one to suggest that the shoes she had selected the previous day might not be suitable for extended travel on foot. Instead, he spun around and knelt down so she could clamber onto his back—again. “Then I shall carry you—whoa!” He stumbled forward as she veritably leaped from the bench and onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his strong shoulder.

As his long legs ate up the ground between the park and the inn, Kaiyr shook his head in wonder. Strange forces, indeed.

 

XXXIV.

Dingo spread his hands in a gesture of closing. “That’s that, I guess. Solaria heads to bed pretty much right after the two of you get back. What’s the game plan?”

I shrugged and looked at the loose-leaf sheet of paper I had been using to record the treasure our party collected. “Well, I’m planning on heading back to the temple in about a week, maybe just five days. But in the meantime, Kaiyr’s in the mood for some better gear, especially since I’ve got, oh, just shy of thirteen thousand gold to spend.”

Dingo’s eyes bulged. “Thirteen thousand? I can’t believe I gave you guys that much treasure!”

But I shook my head and looked at the sheet. “It’s really not that much… okay, maybe it is; and each of us is getting that amount of gold, on top of the other, random stuff. Oh, and that’s also after taking out our ‘insurance policies’,” I said with a slight grin, referring to the 5,000-gp diamonds we each had taken from Sayel and which we kept on our persons so that we could be raised if slain in battle.

Matt chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to buy for Wild while he settles into life at that temple.”

“What’s with that, anyway?” I asked, “Are you going to tell us what’s happening with Wild? Do we even see him?”

“Not really. Wild’s going to come and go only when you guys are out doing your thing, but the innkeeper will see me, so if you ask about me, he can tell you I’m still kicking.”

Dingo closed his books and began packing up his dice. “We’re going to end this episode of ‘Kaiyr’s Hot Dates’ here for the night. I trust the three of you aren’t going to buy anything too cheesy, so I’ll pretty much give you free reign to find whatever items you want. Don’t worry about being able to find a particular magic item in Ik’durel, though, because with more than two million inhabitants, you’re bound to find even rare magic items, or at least someone who can make them for you. I’m heading out for now. See you later, guys.”

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