Tales & Treasure Chapter 23

Vatis - Rooftops and Raindrops

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“Will you put that stupid letter in your pack,” Mia said from a nearby roof. 

Vatis had read the letter a hundred times since he received it the day before.

Fellow bard, jester, or musician, congratulations, you are hereby invited to perform on my grand stage. The Tourney is one of our finest traditions, dating back centuries. Past winners include Gawen Tomkin, Candace Paine, and countless others. I hope to add your name to that storied history. The Tourney begins on the first day of winter. Arrive early. Performance times will be assigned upon arrival. I look forward to your act.

Your righteous King, 

Kandrian Ambita

Barna. I am going to perform in Barna. Finally, Vatis thought. It was a dream he had given up long ago, but now it returned with the fervor of childish imagination.

“Vatis,” Mia yelled. “Hello.”

“Huh,” Vatis said, stuffing the letter into a secret compartment in his pack. “What?”

“Does that change every time you read it?”

“No,” Vatis searched for a valid reason as to why he kept reading the letter, but he didn’t have one. He was still in shock. Nothing good ever happened to him. Yet, a stroke of luck fell his way, and for some reason, he was risking his life to save someone else. I should be on the road to Barna. 

“Then climb up here. We have to hurry,” Mia said. 

“How am I going to climb up there?”

Mia sighed and jumped down. She landed lightly, hardly making a sound as she hit the hard dirt. “Watch,” she said, climbing on top of a barrel. “Climb up here. Then up here. Put your foot here.” She climbed onto a stack of two barrels, then stuck her foot in a narrow crack in the wall. “Then grab the roof and pull yourself up. Easy.”

Yeah, easy. Climbing onto the first barrel was difficult for Vatis. It wobbled back and forth, almost tipping over as he stood. 

“Now, climb on those,” Mia said, pointing to the stack of barrels. “Be careful. They aren’t as heavy as that one.” The barrels teetered. Vatis pushed himself up, stomach first. His arms shook as he pressed himself onto his knees. The barrels wobbled again. A terrifying crack popped in the wood below him, but the barrels didn’t fall. He slowly stood, balancing on his precarious perch. “Good, now put your foot there,” Mia said, pointing at a crack in the wall. 

Vatis stepped forward, wiggling his foot into the crack. The fissure allowed room for his big toe and not much else. “Now, push and grab the ledge,” Mia said. Vatis bit his lip and released himself from his perch. The barrels crashed onto the ground; the contents sounded wet. Vatis reached for the ledge but couldn't manage a consistent grip. His loose foot scraped at the wall, searching for more support. Mia grabbed his forearm; her long fingernails dug into his skin as she tried to pull him up. Vatis finally found footing and pushed himself over the edge. Mia tumbled backward. “Graceful,” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. 

“I’m not a cat like you,” Vatis said, trying to catch his breath. 

“It would have been easier to drag a pig up here.”

“Please, don’t call me a pig.”

Mia stretched onto her tiptoes, searching the city below. “If you want to walk through town, go ahead. I’ll have to rescue three of you instead of two,” she said. Vatis looked back at the alley. A pile of small, silver fish scattered between the broken barrels. The smell of salt and vinegar eclipsed Yimser’s foul tar-like smell for a brief, extra putrid moment. He hated vinegar. “Are you coming?” Mia said, poking her head over the ridge of the roof.

Vatis checked his pack to ensure his letter didn’t slip out in the pother. It was still there. The King’s golden seal smiled at him from the safety of its compartment. He pulled the drawstring tight and flipped his pack over his shoulder. It bounced off Vidmar’s bag, which was so heavy that Vatis questioned whether it was worth the trouble. Is this story worth the risk? Would Vidmar rescue me?  The answer was yes, of course. Vidmar had saved him twice so far in their brief relationship.

“Vatis, come on. We have to hurry,” Mia said, throwing a loose shingle at his feet. 

“I’m coming.”

Mia led them over roofs, down alleys, and through one particularly damp tunnel until she stopped abruptly. Vatis bent over, trying to catch his breath. He interlaced his fingers and placed them on top of his head; his lungs felt deflated like two overused bellows. The river stretched out in front of them, its slow current rocking a docked ship. Pink-highlighted clouds drifted above the jade water. Only the top of an orange sun was visible above the western mountains like a crown upon a king. 

“Why are we stopping?” Vatis said. He watched a gull land on the ship’s railing, tilting its curious head as men carried wooden crates aboard. 

“We’re here,” Mia said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“The docks? Why would they be here?” 

Mia pointed at a decaying stone structure near the dock. “There’s a not-so-secret jail beneath that building. If I were going to kidnap someone, that’s where I would take them.”

A dark-skinned man kicked the wooden door of the stone building open. He struggled to carry a crate that sat atop his shoulder. “There are guards all over. How are we going to get in there?” The gull fluttered away as another guard dropped a sack onto the deck. 

“I don’t know. Don’t you have any ideas? I got us this far,” Mia said, crouching in the shadow of a taller building to their left.

“How do you know about this place?”

“I had a friend,” Mia paused. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and twirled it around her finger. “Recruiters captured him and locked him in there. I guess he had dodged them for months, and it finally caught up with him. I don’t know what they did, but they broke him. He left Yimser shortly after and left me with no one – again.” A thick curl of her brown hair dangled behind her ear as she pulled her finger out. The coil slowly disappeared into the knotted amber forest covering her head. She sniffled. “So, any ideas?” she finished, looking backward, not directly at Vatis but in his direction. 

Vatis hummed while he thought. I could go down there, asking for passage on their ship. If it’s Alcin’s men, they are probably looking for me too. So, that doesn’t work. She could go down there, but what would she say, and do I want to put her in danger? “You could pretend to be a little girl looking for her father?” 

Mia glared at Vatis and stepped toward him. “What would I say? ‘I’m sorry, sir, please. I can’t find my father anywhere.’ Wait, that might work. If I could force a few tears, they might buy it. Punch me in the nose.” Mia stepped closer. “Come on.”

For the first time, Vatis noticed how thin Mia was. Her sunken cheeks, her angular jaw, and her clavicles were almost entirely visible; she was starving. “Absolutely not,” Vatis said. 

Mia grabbed his wrist and pushed his fingers into a fist, aiming it at her nose. “Come on. Hit me.” She pressed against his loose fist. 

“Even if you weren’t an eleven-year-old girl, I wouldn’t hit you.”

She sulked into a squatting position on top of the swallow ridge. “Fine, then tell me something sad. You’re a bard, after all.” 

“I cannot move people to tears at the drop of a hat. If I had that power, I would never have started this ridiculous journey to this foul-smelling town. Think about your friend—the one they captured.”

Mia huffed. “Fine. I guess I’ll figure it out. Stay here.”

Vatis watched Mia slide down the roof nimbly; she leaped, vanishing beneath the building. Vidmar is going to like her, Vatis thought. He tapped his foot to the rhythm of a song, but he couldn’t remember its name. Tap, tap-tap, tap, tap-tap, what is it called? Miner’s march, Mine, Marching Miner’s. Something about a mine or miners. Ah, it’s no use. Where is Mia? Vatis stood on his tiptoes, trying to find her.

Despite its location, Yimser was well populated. On the roof, he could see almost everything below: a gray-haired man pulling a small wagon, a thin, blonde woman carrying a swaddled baby, a black-and-white cat sulking in the shadows, and a dole of doves cooing atop a neighboring roof, but no Mia. Where is she? He felt the sensation of eyes watching and realized that he had been standing, exposed for far too long; he slunk behind the cover of a brick chimney.

The guards near the dock continued working, carrying supplies aboard the ship. A man wearing a purple hat emerged from the ship’s cabin. He directed two guards holding a wooden chest. Vatis’s hands shook. His lips quivered; he felt the memory of a blade pressed against his throat. Zidane. He rubbed his neck, trying to wipe away the feeling of the imaginary knife. Of course, no one was there, but it felt like Zidane had him at knifepoint all over again. He tried to clear his head. The longer he watched Zidane, the more intense the flashbacks became. He saw the guards Vidmar killed, their gruesome injuries, and the golden fire of rage in Vidmar’s eyes as he stared down Zidane. He winced again and felt the wind of Vidmar’s dagger pass his leg; he heard the nauseating squish of a blade in flesh and Zidane’s cry of pain. Vatis squinted and saw Vidmar’s smile as he approached; that terrifyingly confident smile. He blinked repeatedly and pinched his forearm. Snap out of it. It worked, temporarily. 

Zidane stood on the bow of the ship, inspecting an iron cage. He fiddled with the lock. Vatis wanted to run. He wanted to save himself. Don’t get attached - never get attached to a story. He stood, knees shaking, and turned away. I can’t. He looked toward the dock one last time, intending a ceremonial goodbye when he saw her. Mia. She had rustled her hair and disheveled her clothes, playing the perfect lost child; there were few things Vatis respected more than a good performance, and Mia acted admirably. She even added a limp to her character, or her dismount from the roof wasn’t as graceful as it looked. She kicked dust into the air as she approached a guard. Vatis couldn’t hear anything other than the nearby doves and the low whistle of wind between the roofs. The guard tried to shoo her away like a pesky fly, but Mia kept pressing. Vatis couldn’t tell if she had tears, but she wiped her eyes anyway. The guard retreated, fidgeting with his hands like he was trying to find some way to console the little girl. She’s good. Vatis heard a loud bang, and a guard ran out of the stone building with his sword drawn. He thought he heard the guard yell ‘escape’ when all the men on the dock drew their weapons and lined up in front of the door like an infantry unit. Zidane stayed on the ship. Mia retreated to the shadows. 

Five men waited outside the door; two others slid around the side out of sight, their hands resting on their swords. The guard’s formation loosened as they waited. Men swayed back and forth impatiently. These men didn’t look like soldiers but mercenaries, fierce fighters, and less disciplined. Vatis didn’t know if that was good or bad for Vidmar. Seconds felt like hours. He lost track of Mia. Where did she go? He desperately wanted to run now; then he heard Mia’s soft yet frantic voice. “Vatis, Vatis,” she yelled, her tone getting louder and angrier with each call. “Vatis.”

Vatis exhaled and called back. “Mia, what’s happening?” He gingerly slid down the roof until Mia came into view in the alley below. 

“Where’s our stuff? We need to go.” Mia said, jumping up and down. 

“What’s happening?” Vatis repeated. 

“Get the stuff. Hurry. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Fine,” Vatis said, crawling back to their supplies. Go to Barna. He thought as he grabbed their packs. Run. A shingle popped off as he slid down the roof. Run, you idiot.  He tossed each bag into the alley. Why aren’t you running? Mia carefully caught hers but let Vidmar’s crash into the dirt. “You better catch mine,” he said, holding its strap tightly and lowering it as close to the ground as he could without falling off the roof. Mia rolled her eyes and opened her arms. Just run, damnit. What are you doing? He dropped his bag. There wasn’t anything particularly fragile in there, but it contained everything he owned and, most importantly, his invitation to Barna. Mia caught it and carefully placed it on the ground. 

“Come on,” Mia said.

Vatis swung his legs over the ledge and lowered himself down as far as possible without letting go of the roof. He struggled to find a comfortable grip. “I’m working on it,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“It’s not far; just jump.”

Vatis clenched his jaw and dropped into the alley. It turned out that it wasn’t a far drop, and now he felt silly for imagining how painful the fall would be. He threw the packs over his shoulders and dusted himself off. “What’s happening?” 

“I said I would explain on the way. Come on.” She jogged down the alley. “Come on,” Mia yelled, waving. 

Vatis stretched his neck, noticing dark clouds floating ominously overhead. The quickening wind whistled between the gabled roofs.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Mia yelled as she ran out of sight. 

There’s still time. Run. Forget them. Find a new story. Vatis bit his lip, exhaled, and chased after Mia. 

Mia smiled as she saw Vatis chasing after her. “This way.” 

They jogged down the alley. “What is going on?” Vatis said.

“I guess Vidmar didn’t need our help,” Mia said, stopping briefly. She looked left, then right, but ultimately decided straight was the best course. 

“What do you mean? He doesn’t need our help,” Vatis said, nearly colliding with an elderly man walking the other way. The hunched-backed man grumbled an insult, but Vatis couldn’t tell what he said. 

Mia laughed as she watched Vatis hop to regain his momentum. “They escaped. Or they are escaping. We have to help them. There’s a lot of guards down there.” She turned left down a narrow street. As he turned the corner, Vatis heard the spine-shivering sound of swords clashing. The metallic twang grew louder as he followed Mia down a tighter alley. Sickening screams overshadowed the clanging weapons when they popped into the open. Kamet bulled over a soldier and buried his sword into his exposed neck. Three other mercenaries lay dead around the stone building. Kamet charged two men, cornering Vidmar. Lightning flashed in the distance, and thunder joined the battlefield symphony. Vatis crashed into Mia.

“Sorry,” Vatis said, trying to help her up. Her eyes were wide; her head jerked side to side. Vatis knew that look. She was in shock, a state that seemed to welcome all of Vidmar’s new companions. He pulled her to her feet just as the rain started. A drop landed in the middle of her forehead. “Mia.” 

“I’ve never seen a battle before,” she said, staring at a dead mercenary. Again, she played with her hair unconsciously. “What do we do?” 

“Nothing, wait,” Vatis said. 

“I can’t wait,” she said, pulling a dagger from her belt. She looked at the blade like it was foreign, an object she had never seen before. Her fingers tightened around the leather hilt while she ran a finger down the knife’s edge. “What if they die?”

“There is nothing we can do to help in these situations. We’ll get ourselves killed, too,” Vatis said, resting a hand on her shoulder. God’s, she’s all bone. She’ll shatter like glass if she runs out there. A sinister thought crept into his mind. But the story. A new Mia-the-Maiden. Even if she dies, she’ll be a hero. It may even be a story worthy of the King. Vatis watched Mia bounce up and down as she observed the battle. Kamet and Vidmar were fighting back-to-back, surrounded by four mercenaries. Vidmar twirled his sword around in his left hand; he even smiled. That fucking smile. His practice on trees, flowers, and tall grass appeared to work. A fifth guard appeared atop the stone building, slinking into position, aiming a crossbow. “Mia-The-Maiden fought young, twelve-years-old,” Vatis lied under his breath. 

Mia tore into the battle like a hound after a fox. “Look out,” she screamed. “On the roof.” She picked up a stone and threw it at the archer. A heroine, indeed. Her shot missed, but it was close enough to buy Vidmar and Kamet an extra second. One of the mercenaries surrounding Vidmar and Kamet turned. Kamet seized the opportunity and struck him down; his deathly wail faded into the blood-stained sand. Vidmar spun and rolled between the two guards in front of him; one of the guards tried to strike Vidmar, but his blow sliced his partner's reaching arm off above the elbow. Mia threw another stone at the archer who had been aiming at Vidmar; this time, she hit her mark squarely on the archer’s nose. The crossbow misfired, and the bolt whizzed over Vidmar’s head, embedding into the side of a building. Kamet finished his last opponent with a vicious thrust that went through the mercenary’s stomach and out his back. He kicked the corpse off his sword. Vidmar had one opponent left. 

“Kamet,” Vidmar yelled, pointing at the roof; he spun, narrowly avoiding the guard’s strike. The archer cranked the crossbow, loading another bolt. Kamet knelt, hands turned into a platform, nodding to the charging Vidmar. Vidmar leaped onto Kamet’s hands. Kamet hurled him upward, and Vidmar landed on the roof next to the archer. 

Mia’s mouth hung open. “Woah,” she said, a small stone falling out of her hand. 

The hooded man turned. Vidmar dropped his sword as he went for the killing blow. Both men stared at the fallen sword briefly, enough time for Vidmar to devise a new strategy. He yelled and charged forward, tackling the archer off the roof. They landed in a crumpled heap near Kamet’s feet. Vidmar rolled away, and Kamet finished the archer with a downward thrust through his chest.

Vidmar picked up a sword from one of the fallen mercenaries. “Put your sword down, and we’ll let you live,” he said to the only remaining guard.

“We will?” Kamet barked.

“Yes, we will,” Vidmar said. “All you have to do is tell me where Zidane went.” Heavy raindrops showered the docks, puddles scattered like ponds expanding by the second. An empty iron helm had rolled near Vatis’s feet during the skirmish. The rain created a tinny percussion that was almost musical until he thought about the helm’s owner who was facedown dead in the mud—another tragic ending. 

“They’ll kill me,” the guard said, pointing his sword at Vidmar, then at Kamet. 

“You could run,” Vidmar said. “Do something better with your life. We all have choices. There has been enough blood spilled today.”

The guard took off his helm, holding it upside down on his hip. He stuck his sword into the ground. “No one has a choice,” the guard said after a long silence. He threw the water that had pooled in his helm at Vidmar, grabbed his sword, and thrust forward. Vidmar spat and leaped backward. The rain poured. Vatis could hardly see; he tried to keep the water out of his eyes by holding his hand above his brow. A figure fell into the mud. 

“You, girl, come in,” Vidmar called to Mia. He signaled her to the stone building. 

Mia looked back at Vatis.