Tales & Treasure Chapter 21
Vatis - An Invitation
Start from the beginning - Tales & Treasure Table of Contents
Darkness’s icy breath filled the unfamiliar room. Sunlight tried to slither snake-like between narrow cracks in meandering walls, leaving faint golden streaks. Vatis winced. He touched the tender skin around his eyes. The putrid stench of dirt, sweat, and alcohol created a revolting combination. His stomach convulsed. He lurched forward, covering his mouth with his hand. The sour rising bile resisted his recovery attempts; acidic liquid burnt his aching throat. Saliva dripped from his lips. Fuzzy, spinning shadows mocked him on the edges of his vision. He blinked.
“Are you alright?” a gentle voice asked behind him. He spun around too quickly. He imagined he felt like a new sailor in his first storm. Where am I? Vatis thought as his head continued to spin.
“Vatis? Are you alright? Here,” the voice said as a small hand appeared holding a waterskin.
A girl sat on the floor with her back against the wall. The golden sunlight outlined her petite figure through the wall's cracks. His new shirt, stained by food and mud, lay on a tattered blanket near his feet. What happened? Shivers ran down his spine.
Vatis rubbed his eyes. “Mia?”
“Vatis,” she said, mocking his tone. “Vatis-of-the-Road. You know, that’s a strange name.”
“What happened? Where am I?” Vatis asked.
“You’re in my castle - the coziest place in the world. I found you sleeping in the alley behind Braymore. I was looking for dinner. Jonathan has the best day-old bread, but instead, I found you,” Mia said.
Vatis uncorked the waterskin and sniffed its contents.
“It’s water,” Mia said.
Vatis sipped tentatively. The cool liquid temporarily soothed his smoldering throat. “Thank you,” Vatis said before taking another drink. “Oh gods, Braymore. The last thing I remember is falling over the table, trying to kill a damn fly. How did I get here?”
Mia laughed. “You wouldn’t stop talking about that fly. You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“Well, I didn’t want you sleeping on the street uptown; it would only be a matter of time before the guards found you, so I woke you up. By the way, you’re tough to wake up. I kicked you; I shook you. Finally, I found a fish - it smelled awful. I put it under your nose, and boom, like magic, you were on your feet. Then you used me as a crutch on our way here. It’s ok. I didn’t mind. Then you cursed about a torn seam, ripped off your shirt, and passed out.”
“You dragged me all the way here? Did I talk about anything other than the fly?” Vatis asked. The hairs on his forearm stood. The waves in his stomach ceased momentarily as they retreated into the depths before tsunami-like devastation wrecked his gut.
“You mumbled some stuff about some guy named Vidmar and complained about being tired - that’s it, but it’s alright. I felt bad for how they treated you after your story. I wasn’t going to let them hang you on top of it,” Mia said, standing. She tightened a braided belt on her waist and adjusted an empty sheath.
Vatis sighed. His shoulders relaxed. “Hang me?” he said, returning the waterskin. The storm in his belly dissipated slowly.
“A foreigner sleeping on the street uptown, people have been hanged for less.”
“Why do people in Yimser hate foreigners?” Vatis asked, sitting up.
“I don’t. But most of the elders do, especially the donkeys uptown. Gaffer says it’s because of some old rebellion, but he didn’t have any books about it.”
“You can read?”
“Of course, my Papa taught me.”
“What’s your favorite book?”
“Maiden’s Tales,” Mia said proudly.
“I should have guessed,” Vatis smiled. “I saw you in the crowd. What did you think of my story?”
Mia’s eyes widened. “It was incredible. I loved Davas. He was so resourceful and smart. Did he have any other adventures?” She paused and bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe what they did to you because you aren’t from this dumb city. That fake Feya won again, and she played the same songs last year. I threw a tomato at her, not while she was on stage, but later when she was prancing around with her dumb medal.”
Vatis laughed. His head pounded, and his gut didn’t like the sudden movement. “Thank you, Mia,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me. I owe you my life.”
“Alright, don’t get sappy. I did you a favor. Now you can do me a favor,” Mia smiled. She straightened a stack of books in the corner of the room. She ran a finger down the spines, then stopped on a dilapidated book; its torn cover barely held on.
Vatis watched her thumb through the book. “How can I repay you?”
“What do you know about The Lost Forest?”
Vatis felt his eyebrows nearly leap off their perch. “Nothing more than that book. Why?”
“I want to find it. They say Mia-The-Maiden had a secret hideout in the forest and that fairies used to help her. I don’t know if I believe in fairies, but this book talks about magic, real set-things-on-fire-with-your-mind magic. I want to have adventures like Mia and Davas. I don’t want to scavenge for food in Yimser my whole life. I’m not saying I need to go on a quest to find The Lost Forest, just take me with you when you leave. Please.”
Vatis sighed as he itched his chin. His long, dirt-covered fingernails scratched against his stubble; it had been far too long since he shaved. The sound of running water trickled peacefully nearby.
Mia inched closer. “Please, Vatis?”
“I,” he said. Mia can’t come with us. Vidmar will kill me. “I have to consult with Vidmar.”
“Who is this Vidmar guy?” Mia asked, looking up from her book.
Vatis paused again, unsure of how much information to divulge. I owe her. “I’m traveling with him and collecting his stories. Vidmar is the one who escaped Jegon – Davas was a pseudonym.”
“A pseudonym?” Mia said, struggling to sound out the word.
“A fake name.”
“Wait, you know Davas, I mean Vidmar - the hero from your story?”
“Yes. He’s in Yimser now.”
“Really?” Mia said, springing to her feet. Her head came dangerously close to banging into the ceiling each time she jumped. Mia covered her mouth with her hands to muffle her screams. She grabbed Vatis’s wrist. “Can I meet him?” Her big hazel eyes beamed with excitement.
“Yes, you can meet him, but I have to get my things from Geoff’s, and we must leave Yimser today. We’ve already lingered here too long.”
“Let’s go,” Mia said, unlatching a small crude lock. “Wait, I need to pack.”
She shoved most of her possessions into a burlap sack with a frayed drawstring: a tan shirt with a hole in the side, a loaf of bread, and a carved figurine of a woman holding a sword above her head. Mia-The-Maiden, Vatis thought. She added a spool of thread, a small knife, a lockpick, and a silver coin. A brief deliberation between three books ended with her packing The Lost Forest and Maiden’s Tales.
“Don’t bring The Lost Forest. I have that one in my pack,” Vatis said.
“Alright,” Mia said. She stuffed a book called The Mystery of The Pact into her bag and tightened the drawstring.
“The Mystery of The Pact - interesting choice. A few of the stories are good, but most of the book is like reading an accountant’s ledger. I would have gone with The Eternal Darkness. The message is a little frightening, but it has some wonderful stories. Although I can’t blame you for connecting with Dinardo and his cause,” Vatis said.
“The Eternal Darkness is a bunch of lies. At least most of The Mystery of The Pact is true,” Mia said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“I can’t argue there.”
An hour later, Vatis gathered his possessions in his room at Geoff’s, placing each item carefully into his pack. Vidmar wasn’t there, and neither was Kamet. Maybe they're looking for me. Why is Vidmar’s gear still here, though? Where is he? Vatis wrapped two apples in a cloth and corked his bottle of ink.
“What’s this?” Mia said, opening Vatis’s journal.
“Don’t,” Vatis said quickly. Mia froze and put the book down on the nightstand.
“I’m sorry,” Vatis said, grabbing the book and carefully setting it into his pack. “That’s mine. It contains my notes and the beginning of a story I am working on.”
“You’re writing a book? What’s it about?”
Vatis smiled. “It’s a collection of stories. The same stories I tell in taverns and campfires.”
“And tournaments,” Mia added.
“No more tournaments - not anymore. But, yes, this is a collection of those stories. The Stories of Emre, I call it. It’s more of a history than a standard book of stories, as each of the tales I plan to include is true. Although, instead of focusing on royal lineages, wars, and cataclysmic events, I am focusing on individual tales of heroic, everyday people like Vidmar.”
“Is Mia-The-Maiden’s story going to be in it? You can’t have a book of heroes and not include her,” Mia said, pacing back and forth.
“Mia’s story is well documented. I may include a few of her lesser-known deeds, but not the same events from Maiden’s Tales.”
“She has more stories?” Mia said, temporarily ceasing her patrol.
“Yes, many. Why are you pacing like that? You’re making me nervous.”
Mia looked out the window, examining the street below. “I don’t like this place. Nothing good ever happens in Geoff’s. Do you have everything?”
“Yes, but I must gather Vidmar’s gear too. As soon as we find him, we need to leave Yimser.”
“I’m coming with you, right?” Mia asked, still looking out the window.
“Yes, but this would go faster if you helped,” Vatis said, pointing to the other nightstand. “Grab those knives and anything else that looks important.”
Mia reluctantly left her post. “Why does he need so many knives?”
“Every time I ask him that, he says, ‘Would you rather have too many knives or too few?’ Vatis laughed.
“Too many, I guess,” Mia said, examining each blade. She passed the last knife to Vatis and slung her leg over the windowsill.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving, better safe than sorry. I’ll meet you in the alley. But hurry, please,” Mia said, swinging the rest of her body out the window. She hung by the sill for a moment, raised her eyebrows, and disappeared onto the street below.
Vidmar is going to like her, Vatis thought. He walked downstairs with each bag slung over his shoulders. Maybe the bartender has seen him. A group of men playing dice at a table stared at Vatis as he passed. Their carnivorous eyes caused shivers to run down his spine. One gigantic, bearded man slammed his fist on the table. Two thin wisps of men whispered while examining Vatis, and three men reached for the blades on their belts. Vatis walked faster. He approached the barkeep.
“Have you seen my companions?” Vatis asked.
The barkeep turned, snorted, and returned to washing mugs. “Excuse me, please,” Vatis said. He reached into Vidmar’s bag and found a full coin purse. Where did you get all this coin, Vidmar? He tapped a coin against the bar and called again. “Excuse me, have you seen my companions?”
The barkeeper turned, noticed the coin, and stepped forward. She slid the small metal piece into the pocket of her apron. “Haven’t seen ‘em.”
Suddenly, a thick, sausage-like finger poked his shoulder. He didn’t hear anyone approach. It was the man who slammed his fist on the table. How did he move so quietly? He looked even bigger standing. Tight leather armor accentuated his muscular figure. He was smaller than Kamet, but not by much. His left hand rested on the hilt of a longsword strapped to his belt. “I know what happened,” he grimaced. Water sloshed in a bucket as the bartender scrubbed mugs clean.
“Splendid, where did they go?” Vatis said, retreating against the bar.
“That’ll cost ya,” the man said, trapping Vatis between himself and the bar; his tongue slid between missing teeth like a snake—his breath smelt of alcohol. The men at the table watched like vultures. The sound of water splashing and scrubbing ceased.
“I can pay,” Vatis said, holding his hands up defensively.
“I’m sure you can,” the brute said, poking Vatis in the chest. “We all watched you yesterday, Vatis-of-the-Road, and we think it’s past time you left Geoff’s and found your home.”
Vatis pressed against the bar, sliding down as the man moved closer. “I intend to.”
“Good,” the man said, taking a step back. “Now go.”
Vatis started walking to the door, averting the gaze of the other occupants of the tavern. “Sorry, I truly am, but you said you knew where my companions went.”
“No,” the man laughed. “I said I knew what happened, and it will cost you.”
“How much will it cost?” Vatis said.
“Everything you have,” the man laughed. The table of ruffians joined in like a pack of wolves howling.
Vatis reached into Vidmar’s purse, nimbly tucking a few coins into his sleeve. Thank you, Vidmar, he thought as he finished the coin trick the treasure hunter had taught him on the road. “Is twenty and two enough?”
The big man laughed. “No.”
The other men seemed to drool as Vatis pulled out more coins.
“Thirty is surely enough,” Vatis said, making his hands shake. He played a nervous merchant better than most of his other characters. It was almost natural.
“I said everything. Give me the purse,” the man said, closing the distance between them.
“Fine,” Vatis tossed the leather pouch and slid sideways.
“Well, boys. It seems bards are better paid than I thought,” the collector said, tightening the drawstring. He threw the pouch to the table. The wolves pounced on it like it was a bone. “Now get out.”
“What happened to my companions?” Vatis asked.
One of the men cackled and mimed hanging himself. The others howled with laughter.
The big man smiled. “Crow’s food.”
“Excuse me.”
“Town guards arrested them during the tourney. They are probably swaying from a tree right now, fucking cheating foreigners. Leave now if you don’t want to join them.”
“You’re lying,” Vatis yelled. “You’re lying.”
A man from the table called out. “I saw it with me own eyes - damn cheatin’ foreigners. I laughed when that fella in the purple hat knocked the small one out. Hit him right in the ole temple. The big man put up a fight before….”
“Shut yer mouth,” the apparent leader said, turning around.
“Did you say a man in a purple hat?”
“No. Now leave before I take the clothes off your back.”
Zidane? It must be. What is he doing in Yimser? Vatis slung the bags over his shoulders and turned around. He heard footsteps following him when the front door crashed open. A hefty man dressed in vibrant clothing stepped into the tavern. Streaks of black makeup ran down his cheeks. His bloodshot eyes examined the scene. “There you are,” he said, out of breath, looking at Vatis. His voice sounded like a frog croaking. As he approached, Vatis noticed he was still wearing his announcing attire.
“Hello,” Vatis said, grateful for a momentary distraction. “Good morning.”
“Ah,” the announcer cried. “Ah, I wish it were.” He continued to wail. He snorted, and his lips trembled. “Alas, our sweet, my love, Feya. She was welcomed to the darkness last night. She has passed on,” he cried more. Vatis stepped close and rubbed his back. The announcer cleared his throat and stood taller. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself.
“My brother and I have decided that you shall take Feya’s place at the tourney in Barna,” he said, mustering his strongest announcing voice. “We agreed that your story of Davas was not fairly received, and you deserve a chance to perform in front of a less biased crowd. As a traveling bard, I knew I needed to catch you soon, so forgive the hour and my appearance.” He breathed heavily when he finished. Tears flowed down his cheeks.
“I,” Vatis started.
“Please, Vatis,” the announcer interrupted. “I don’t have a medal for you, but take this letter. It has our official seal. It will grant you entry to the tournament. My love for the arts gave me the strength to deliver this message. You deserve another chance to perform, but I must go. Forgive me. I cannot hold it together much longer; congratulations, Vatis-of-the-Road.” He bowed, turned, and jogged out of the tavern. The tail of his coat flapped like a flag in the wind. “May your feet find the road,” he cried from the street.
What happened to Feya? Vatis couldn’t breathe or think. He leaned against a nearby table, petrified like a statue. His mind ran in circles; excitement battled with terror, relief fought dread, and confusion encapsulated elation. For a moment, he forgot about finding Vidmar. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Images of himself on Barna’s stage appeared like a new dawn. He heard applause; he felt rose petals on his feet—finally, a stroke of luck for me.
“What the fuck happened to Feya?” a man cried from the table of gamblers.
Vatis’s daydream shattered like broken glass. The man at the bar charged forward. “It’s your lucky day. A young, beautiful woman dies suddenly, and look who has an invite to Barna. What happened to Feya? What did you do?”
“Nothing. I was at the Braymore Inn. Ask the bartender,” Vatis said, wiping his sweaty palms off on his pants.
“You hear that, boys? The rich bard went to fucking Braymore last night,” the big man said, surging forward. The table spewed sinister laughter forth like an erupting volcano. The men at the table stood, hovering like ash in the wind.
“I was at the Braymore,” Vatis cried.
“Leave him alone, Alec,” a voice called from the door. Mia. “He’s with me.”
“Stay out of this, girl. He’s a foreigner,” Alec said.
“He killed Feya,” a pair of voices called from the looming storm.
“Alec, let him come with me, and we’re even,” Mia said.
Vatis continued to back toward the door. Rage flared in Alec’s eyes. “Letting him live is too high a price.”
“A higher price than your life,” Mia snapped. “Who slipped you a pick when you were being carted off to jail? Who stole medicine and brought it to you when you were sick last winter? You owe me, Alec.”
The big man looked at his feet and shuffled like a scolded child. “I told you never to come to Geoff’s again, but fine, Mia. We’re even.”
“But, what about Feya,” a shrill voice interjected from Alec’s pack.
“I said we’re even. Get out of here before I change my mind,” Alec growled.
They walked along the narrow river that ran through Yimser. It smelt of dead fish and urine. Vatis tried to comprehend the events of the last day. He finally played in front of a tournament crowd, and that same crowd shattered his expectations. He drank enough ale to knock out a bear, woke up in a strange shack, and a ten-year-old girl saved his life not once but twice. Vidmar and Kamet might be dead, but he could only focus on a chance to perform in front of the King. He was going to Barna. He was going to perform on the most revered stage in Emre. A smile slithered onto his face.
“Why are you smiling like that? It’s creepy,” Mia said, knocking him back into reality.
“What? I don’t know. That’s how I smile,” Vatis said.
“Well, quit.”
“Fine. I can walk somberly, not relishing my stroke of luck,” Vatis said, dropping his head low like it had trouble attaching to his shoulders.
“Oh, you’re something else, your friends are in trouble, but all you can think about is that damn invitation. I should never have pulled you out of the alley. I thought you were different from the rest of the artists and bards, or whatever you call yourself. You’re all liars who crave fame and fortune,” Mia said, throwing a rock into the river.
“Why is it so bad to want fame and fortune?” Vatis asked. He stopped walking. A duck flew away as Mia missed it with another stone. He kicked a small pile of rocks into the river. The current erased the small cascading ripples.
“It’s selfish. You don’t care who you have to climb over to get to the top as long as you’re the one standing at the end. Your friends are in trouble. They might be dead, and you don’t even want to know what happened,” Mia said, sitting down and dipping her toes into the water.
“What do you know? You're what, eight years old?”
“I’m eleven.”
Vatis snorted. “Anyway, Vidmar and Kamet are two of the most capable men in Emre. So, if they aren’t dead, what chance do I have of rescuing them? And why should I?” Vatis said. He paced the riverbank.
“They’re your friends.”
“They are my companions. Nothing more,” Vatis said. They can’t be anything more. “There are other stories in this world to gather, other heroes to uncover. You have to know when to cut your losses.”
“Aren’t you lonely?” Mia said, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I am,” she whispered. “If you won’t save them because they are your friends, save them for the story. You’ll have a front-row seat to a heroic rescue mission. Please, Vatis. I want to meet Vidmar, and there has to be a part of you that wants to save him too.”
Vatis bit his lip. Damn, she’s perceptive, but she’s right. Vatis exhaled and sat beside Mia. Frothy waves splashed against his bare feet. “If you ever want to see more of this world, we should make for Barna right now, but if you want to play hero, I will follow you. The second there is too much trouble, I’m fleeing. There are too many stories I haven’t told to die in this poor excuse of a city.” This is a mistake.
“Really,” Mia said.
“Don’t make me have second thoughts. Do you know where they might be?”
“Yes,” Mia said, jumping to her feet.
““Leaving, better safe than sorry. I’ll meet you in the alley. But hurry, please,” Mia said, swinging the rest of her body out the window.”
I like Mia.