Tales & Treasure Chapter 14

Vidmar - Wanted Company

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Vidmar awoke with his face bouncing off someone’s back. His world was a hazy blur as he tried to open his eyes. The last thing Vidmar remembered was Tycar grabbing a candle – the flame slowly cauterizing his wounds. Now, his entire body ached as he bounced up and down on his captor’s shoulder. He tasted blood.

Waves crashed in the distance; the salty sea air grew thicker as they moved. Through the darkness, he could see sand. The big man left large, wet footprints. Where are they taking me? His fingers itched horribly. It felt like he still had all ten. He wiggled them around, assessing the damage. A dull ache evolved into excruciating pain as he moved the remnants of his right middle finger. He tried to remain silent, but the pain was immense; a cow-like groan escaped. Suddenly, the man carrying him stopped and set him down with his back against a rock. Vidmar blinked, trying to clear the fog from his dry eyes. Two shapes stood before him, one small, the other enormous. Tycar and Alcin. Where’s Vatis? 

The gigantic shape spoke first. “Vidmar, thank the gods,” he said, kneeling in the sand. That wasn’t Tycar’s voice.

Vidmar tried to rub his eyes, but pain coursed through his hand as he put pressure on his missing fingers. “Fuck,” he said, shaking his hand, hoping the pain would fall away like drops of water. “Kamet? Is that you,” he grimaced. 

“Yes, Vidmar, it’s me. I’m sorry we don’t have time to talk. We need to move. I’m sure they are looking for us by now. Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”

“I still have my legs. Don’t I?” Vidmar looked down, genuinely curious about the status of his legs. He was relieved to find them mostly intact. He tried to stand but collapsed. He lost too much blood; he could hardly keep his eyes open.

“Come on,” Kamet said, throwing him over his shoulder as gently as the maneuver allowed.

Kamet took off like a hound after a fox. Vidmar watched the receding tide erase their footprints and fell into a deep, uncomfortable sleep.

---

Vidmar rolled, face first, into something wet and coarse. The saltwater stung his parched mouth. He tried to move his fingers, but his hands were now neatly bandaged with blue fabric. He raised himself onto his knees, careful not to use his hands. Kamet slept a few paces to his left, snoring louder than the usually relaxing hush of encroaching waves. They were in a cave, or cavern, or hole, someplace damp and dark. Strange green, yellow, and orange plants clung to the walls. A crab scurried past his feet. He saw a familiar-looking pack on the ground next to Kamet. Vatis. He turned, searching for signs of the bard.

Vidmar found him watching the tide roll in at the mouth of the cave. He grimaced as he stood and approached Vatis, who swayed back and forth, clinging his knees to his chest. Vidmar tried to sit next to him, but he found it challenging to sit on the ground gracefully when his whole body ached, and he didn’t want to use his hands. He plopped down and fell backward. Covered in sand, he finally rolled himself into a seated position with Vatis’s help. He felt like a child learning to walk; any sudden change in direction meant he would topple over.

“Is this your work?” Vidmar said, extending his arms. 

“The bandages?” Vatis said. He frowned and turned away. “Yes. I cleaned the wounds with the seawater and wrapped them with my blanket.” He avoided eye contact. 

“Thank you,” Vidmar said. There was a long silence. Vidmar weighed his words carefully. The water now extended to his shins and toes crossed in front of him. “Tide’s coming in.” 

The bard nodded. 

“Vatis,” Vidmar began. He took a deep breath. The cool sea vapors relieved growing pressure in his sinuses. “There’s something I need to tell you.” 

“It’s fine, Vidmar. It’s my fault again,” Vatis said.

“No. I need to say this. I work, well, worked for Alcin,” Vidmar said. “I’ve helped him track down valuable items over the last few years. My task now, the treasure I’m hunting … he asked me to find Greco’s crown.” Vidmar felt a wave of relief wash over him; he hadn’t told anyone of his quest. 

Vatis’s eyes widened. His mouth dropped open.

Vidmar looked at his hands, his livelihood; dark red blood crusted on the stumps of his missing fingers. “So, when you recited that poem, Alcin thought I told you about my task.”

A tear rolled down Vatis’s cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, Vidmar.”

Vidmar wanted to be angry with Vatis; he wanted to be angry with Alcin; he wanted to be angry at the world, but mostly he wanted to see her, and somehow those thoughts had calmed his rage. He had flirted with death most of his life. Last night, he was sure Alcin would kill him, so he gave up and pictured her one last time. Elisa: the only treasure he truly sought. Images of her distracted him from the pain. As he lost more blood, his distractions faded away into darkness. He screamed not because of the physical pain but because he had lost her again. His reverie washed away like footprints in the tide. 

“I don’t know that it would have ended differently, regardless of your unfortunate choice in poetry. I’ve been searching for too long, and I am no closer to finding this damn crown. Alcin is growing impatient with me and with his cause. He thinks if he has Greco’s crown, he will have a claim to the throne. He’s not wrong. To the people, the crown would be a symbol of his worthiness. Greco was the last king to wear the crown, the last king to come to power peacefully and not through brutal conquest. Many people, including myself, believe that Kandrian is unfit to rule. He is ruthless, unforgiving, and far too ambitious, but I can’t say that Alcin is any better. The more power he gets, the more he wants. It’s the curse of leadership. They fought so hard to achieve power that when the fighting is over, they forget the cause that garnered them love,” Vidmar said. He hissed as the pain returned to his hands. “Sorry, talking distracted me from the pain.” He examined the blacking bandages again. “Fuck.”

“What if we found the crown? Would Alcin still want to kill you?” Vatis asked.

“He isn’t known for forgiveness, but as I said, I am no closer to finding it than I was a year ago and now,” Vidmar held up his injured hands. “I’m useless.”

“Vidmar-The-Coldblooded, the only man to escape Jegon, useless, I think not,” Kamet said. 

“I’m not sure,” Vidmar said. “If I can’t hear an ox like you approach, I’m even more worthless than I thought.”

“You never gave me enough credit. Just because I’m not a ghost doesn’t mean I can’t creep up on an idiot and cripple.”

Vidmar looked at Vatis, then turned to Kamet.

“Too soon?” Kamet laughed.

Vidmar smirked. “Too fucking soon.”

“We should thank the gods that Tycar is dumber than your friend here, or we would all be dead.”

“There’s only one way to thank a man like Tycar, and that’s with cold steel nestled lovingly between his third and fourth ribs, but I doubt that I could hold a knife, much less use one effectively and even if I wanted to, Alcin has my knives.” Suddenly, Vidmar’s heart raced; his head felt like a cloud. The stone. Alcin has the stone. His legs started shaking uncontrollably. 

“Alcin doesn’t have your knives,” Vatis said quietly. He stood and grabbed his pack, carefully setting five blades onto the damp sand. A wave splashed beneath them and rolled onto the weapons. “I didn’t have time to grab them all. I’m sorry, but I did grab this.” Vatis set the stone in the sand. “You’re always playing with it, and Alcin kept looking at it, so I thought it might be important.” Vidmar sprang to his feet.

A sincere smile forced its way through pain and gritted teeth. “Don’t be sorry, Vatis. You saved the only clue I have left. I won’t forget this.” 

“Do you know what it says?” Vatis asked. “The inscription?” 

Vidmar’s body trembled again, this time due to excitement, not nervousness. “No. Do you?” He said, trying to sound casual. Please, please, please.

Vatis examined the stone. “Unfortunately, no, but these are The Pact’s symbols. Perhaps, if I had a copy of Mysteries of The Pact by Artgal Cairbre, I might be able to translate it.” Damnit, Vidmar thought as Vatis rambled on about books. “…but Cairbre included a list of the symbols, so that’s the book we need.”

“Alcin suspected the stone had something to do with The Pact or Dinardo, but that’s all he gave me. I’ve followed leads to Numeria, Wayland, and the edge of the Kaharn Desert. I have one lead left—an old friend in Yimser. Hopefully, he’s still alive.”

“The details of these leads would surely make an intriguing story,” Vatis said. 

“You saved my life. You will get your story. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but we need to move now. I’ve delayed us enough already.”

Vatis strummed his fingers together while he licked his lips like a starving man in front of a feast. Maybe I won’t tell you everything, Vidmar thought as the bard’s frightening expression dissolved into his normally cheery smirk. Vidmar pocketed the stone and then bent down, trying to grab one of the knives with his right hand, but it slipped. It fell back into the sand. He tried again. He examined the blade, squeezing the hilt tightly with his three remaining fingers. He slashed the air. It felt odd and uncomfortable in his palm. The once reassuring feel of a blade was lost. He tried to jab, but the knife flew from his weak fingers. “See, useless. I couldn't cut cheese.”

“That’s why you have me, but we need to move,” Kamet said.

Vidmar scowled at Kamet. “I just said that you pea-brained oaf.” Vidmar turned back to the bard. “You didn’t happen to grab my pack, too?” 

“It’s hanging on the rocks over there,” Vatis said.

“I could kiss you, Vatis,” Vidmar said, smiling. The bard took a step backward. It was a joke.  “Maybe there’s still hope. Alcin knows we were headed to Yimser. So where do we go? Do we try to catch a boat and loop back into Haran?”

“What about the bard’s tourney?” Vatis asked, scratching his head. 

“What about it?”

“Well, I’d still like to participate.” 

“Out of the question,” Vidmar answered quickly. “Too many people know we were going there, and they know we are connected. You’ll be killed.”

“Vidmar, Alcin thinks highly of you. He values your caution. If he knew you were going to Yimser, he might think it’s the last place you’ll go,” Kamet said, attaching his mace to his belt. “He knows how carefully you plan. You say your last lead is in Yimser, so maybe it’s time to take a risk.”

Vidmar thought for a moment. “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. Even if he doesn’t believe I’ll go, he’ll still send a squad just in case. I don’t like it. We should flee south, preferably on a boat.”

“You know he has already offered every captain within twenty leagues of Haran a king’s ransom to turn us in,” Kamet said.

Vidmar sighed. “Yes, probably, but I can smooth-talk those mermaid-loving rum drinkers. It’s less risky than walking into a trap in Yimser. How long were we pursued?”

Kamet shrugged. “We never had anyone chasing us, if that’s what you mean. Once we were on the street, we sprinted toward the beach and started north. We’re already on the way to Yimser. It makes the most sense.”

Waves washed Vidmar’s bare feet. The water now rose over his ankles. Orange rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. “I don’t like it,” Vidmar repeated. “Vatis can break the tie, but I know what he’ll pick.”

Vatis paused for a moment. Vidmar tried to communicate his apprehension telepathically and with a series of facial gestures that felt awkwardly lustful.  “Yimser. I’m sorry, Vidmar,” the bard said.

“Stop apologizing. I just want it to be known that I was against this plan, but let’s get ourselves killed. I guess it’s better to see the knife coming than to get stabbed in the back,” Vidmar said as they started walking north along the shore.

---

Vidmar winced as Vatis changed his bandages. “Where’s Hobb when you need him? That old man had the touch of a surgeon.” 

“My arm healed much faster than I anticipated. I only needed the bandage for a few days. My elbow is still a little sore, and my range of motion is limited, but it’s mostly healed; nothing short of a miracle,” Vatis said, moving his arm around haphazardly. He grimaced when he thrust it too far in the wrong direction. 

“You're cheerful this morning,” Vidmar said. 

“It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do,” Vatis said. He whistled an unfamiliar tune that harmonized with the hush of the waves and the caw of the gulls. 

They traveled up the coast for two days until they stopped at an abandoned fisherman’s hut with the decayed shells of two straw beds. Vidmar generously took the first watch. He passed the time by throwing knives at large pieces of driftwood, but try after try ended in the blade in coarse white sand. Fucking useless, he thought, struggling to adjust without two and a half of his fingers. He could barely piss without help.

Vatis transitioned from whistling to humming, stopping abruptly when a rock struck him in the back of the head. “Do you have to hum or whistle or sing all damn day,” Kamet said, grabbing another rock. The bard looked as though he might retort but thought better of it. Vidmar laughed. The company and peaceful morning almost made him forget they were running from one of the most dangerous men in Emre. I must find the crown, Vidmar thought. It’s the only way to stop running, and I’m so tired of running. 

“Where are we?” Vatis asked, rubbing his head.

“I’d guess we are a day out, which should put us in Yimser two days before your tourney,” Vidmar said. 

“We don’t need to be there for more than a day,” Vatis said quickly. “We can take our time getting there. I’m sure they allow day-of entries.” 

“As nice as this shack was compared to sandy caves and forest floors, I desperately need a bath and a real bed,” Vidmar said, stretching his aching back. 

“The longer we are in Yimser, the more likely we are caught,” Vatis said.

“If Alcin’s men are in Yimser, it won’t matter how many days we are there. I’m sure the hog over there would agree.” Vidmar pointed to Kamet. 

Kamet snorted before taking a large bite of bread. “Can I have one quiet, peaceful meal without being insulted before we die in the forest?”

Vatis tilted his head. “What forest?”

Vidmar had been avoiding thoughts of the Kokor Forest since he realized they would have to travel through it. There’s no other way. “The Kokor. Today, we will have to cut through a small section of the forest to catch the road on the other side, and we need to do it as fast as possible and at midday. We do not want to be there longer than we have to.”

“Stories are my business, and every story I’ve heard about this forest has been false. Other than the origins of ‘May your feet find the road.’ Do you know why we say that?” Vatis said.

Vidmar sighed, sensing a lesson coming from the bard. “No.”

“Well, the phrase originated in Yimser. The northern wilderness is unforgiving. They say creatures and more lurk in the Kokor Forest. Some say the gods who created Emre dwell there; others say the spirits of tormented souls are trapped, never to escape. Of course, most of these rumors are categorically false. ‘May your feet find the road’ was said to people traveling to and from Yimser. There is only one road, and it bends around the forest. You do not want to veer off the road as it is nearly impossible to find again.” 

“I haven’t seen any monsters or bird-sized wasps, but there are strange creatures, and the air feels different than any other place I’ve been,” Vidmar said. 

Vatis narrowed his eyes. “Thick air and strange noises do not mean the forest is haunted.”

“Let’s see how you feel when we are in it,” Kamet said.

“You’ve been through this forest too?” Vatis asked.

“Once.” Kamet did not elaborate. He slung his bag over his shoulder and adjusted his belt before letting out an obnoxious yawn.

Vidmar watched Kamet and joined in with his own slightly less exaggerated yawn. Vatis did not join the choir of howling wolves. “Let’s go. Alcin probably knows where we are anyway. I’m sure they could hear Kamet’s snoring in Haran,” Vidmar said.

“Fuck off,” Kamet said, launching another rock, this time at Vidmar. He instinctively tried to catch it with his right hand, but the small stone bounced off his palm onto the sand. He cursed under his breath. Useless, I can’t even catch a rock.

A few hours later, they stood at the edge of the forest. 

“Are you sure we can’t go around?” Kamet asked.

“Not on foot,” Vidmar replied.

“Fuck. I should have left you in Haran,” Kamet said, pacing back and forth. 

Vidmar pushed him with his right hand. Pain slashed through his joints like he was reliving Alcin’s torture. He bit his lower lip hard, tasting blood. “Damn it,” he said, spitting pink saliva. The pain lessened, leaving him again with the strange, itchy feeling. He sensed his missing fingers like they were wrapped in invisible cloth. He felt them open and close, open and close, but when he tried to remove the fabric, he felt nothing but air.

Kamet placed a hand on Vidmar’s shoulder. “It’s nearly midday; if we have to travel through this forest, we’d better do it now.”

Vidmar nodded. “Ready?” he asked Vatis.

Vatis stared at the dark trees, their branches swaying haphazardly with the wind. A dark green leaf fluttered to the ground near his feet. He picked it up and held it in the sunlight. ”What are all these brown spots?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Vidmar replied. “A disease of some kind, but look closer. You see how the light struggles to pass through; that’s how it is throughout the forest. Although it’s midday, it will feel like we are walking in moonlight.”

Kamet snorted his agreement and stepped forward, using his muscular frame to peel back a few low-hanging branches. Vatis exhaled and stepped into the forest first, impressing Vidmar with his uncharacteristic bravery. Vidmar looked back. The soothing safety of the beach begged him to turn around. He made eye contact with Kamet, exchanging the same shallow nod they used to in the army. The gesture offered good luck while acknowledging this may be their last adventure together. Kamet breathed deeply and released the branches; they snapped backward as the forest swallowed them in darkness.