Tales & Treasure Chapter 24

Vidmar - A New Plan

Start from the beginning - Tales & Treasure Table of Contents

Vidmar sat cross-legged on the damp ground, drying his face with another victim’s shirt. He listened to the relentless rain drumming atop the frigid stone building and ripped the garment, passing the dry half to the girl beside him. “Sorry it smells, but at least it's dry.”

The girl hadn’t stopped staring at Vidmar since they entered the guard’s shack. She sniffed the shirt, then wiped her face. “Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“No, thank you. If you hadn’t shown up, we’d both have arrows sticking out of our necks. And you brought Vatis with you. What are the chances? I thought we were going to have to leave him behind,” Vidmar said, looking at Vatis standing in the corner by a torch. “What’s your name?”

“Mia,” the girl said shyly, looking at her feet and twirling her hair around a finger. 

Brown hair, about ten years old; it must be her. “Mia, do you know Gaffer? He has a shop uptown.”

She smiled. “Yes.”

Vatis cursed, interrupting their conversation. He held a piece of parchment over the flame, trying to dry it without setting it on fire. “What is that, Vatis?” Mia sighed. Her thin eyebrows furrowed as she glared at the bard. 

“My invitation,” Vatis said. He frowned. The nearly translucent parchment cast a vicious dog-like shadow on the wall behind Vatis, with the bard’s knuckles as the beast’s teeth. 

“Did you win the tourney?” Vidmar said with a surprising amount of excitement. “I, ah, didn’t see the announcement.”

“No,” Mia whispered. 

Vatis returned her poignant scowl. “Yes, after a series of events, I have been declared the winner.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Vidmar said. He watched a confusing nonverbal exchange between Mia and Vatis. What’s going on there? He thought. Vatis carefully folded the letter and set it on a wooden table next to his wet pack; its content scattered throughout the room, drying out. Mia took a few items out of her bag to dry, but she neatly organized her possessions near her feet. The Mystery of the Pact lay open and drying on the floor. That’s it. Vidmar opened his mouth to speak but was once again interrupted by Vatis. 

“Thank you. What did you think of the story? I tried not to exaggerate too much, but you didn’t exactly provide me with a thrilling narrative.” 

Kamet coughed. “As thrilling as this news is, we need a plan.” He emerged, shirtless, from a pantry holding a pile of tunics and trousers. On top of the clothing sat apples, bread, dried meat, and a flask. “If it weren’t raining, we would be surrounded by now. God’s we might be. I can’t hear anything other than the damn rain.”

Vidmar sighed. He wanted to ask Mia about the book but decided it could wait until they were safe. “We could tough it out and run now; it would be hard to track us in the rain or wait for nightfall and slink out of the city, or we could commandeer that ship on the dock. Does anyone know how to sail?”

Mia shook her head; Vatis didn’t respond. An apple fell from his arms onto the floor, rolling toward Vidmar’s feet. “I’m not getting on a ship unless it's our only option,” Kamet said, slamming his fist against the wall “I vote we tough it out and leave now.”

“I say we try the ship. How hard could sailing be? And it probably has a cabin to keep us dry,” Vidmar said. He scratched his chin, thinking of other options. “Where’s Zidane? Did you see him, Kamet?”

“No, only cheap mercs,” Kamet said, setting his pile of supplies on the table near Vatis. A long, pale scar ran diagonally down his rigid, muscular torso from his left shoulder to his navel. 

“He was on the ship,” Vatis said, wringing out his blanket. 

Water splashed onto the floor. A dark stream flowed down the shack’s uneven surface toward the pantry, forming a small puddle next to a decaying board. Vidmar shot up. Arrogantly curious pain wandered through his limbs, reminding him of his age. His day in a tight cell, combined with his first action in weeks, bore him down like an anchor. Ten years and a hundred battles ago, he would have already been at Zidane’s throat, throwing him into the river, but now he couldn’t stand without pain somewhere. His father had warned him about the price of a soldier’s life. Slow cane-steadied walks, cries in the night, and somber silence in the day were practically the only memories he had of his father, but Vidmar wanted to play the hero, and he paid dearly for it. At least his father had escaped that life. I should have listened to you, Pa.

Vidmar lifted the barricade and pushed the door open. The wind moaned in concert with the heavy drumming droplets. A thick fog rose above the shimmering ground. Persistent gray sheets decreased visibility substantially, but he could see the ship floating down the river, no longer tied to the dock. Fuck. He pulled the door closed. 

“Well, Zidane escaped, and the ship is no longer an option,” Vidmar said, brushing his wet hair backward. 

Kamet smirked. “Damn, I guess we will have to go on foot.”

“You know, keelhauling is when you are tied to a rope and dragged beneath the ship and pulled up on the other side,” Vidmar said. “I didn’t tell you because I know you hate water, and somehow Zidane knew the absolute worst form of torture for you, but that ship was our best option."

Kamet shuddered. “That’s what I fucking thought it was.”

Vidmar kicked the door. “Well, you don’t have to worry about it now. Fuck. I don’t want to run in the rain.” The rain brought back images from his first battle: soldiers collapsing around him as arrows plummeted their lines, charging forward with little hope of survival, waking up covered in blood amongst his fallen brothers. Vidmar shook his head, sighed, and walked in circles around the room. “There is some good news; there are no guards out there. Does anyone have an idea? There has to be another way.”

“I say we wait until the rain stops,” Vatis said, examining a book from his bag. He pulled two pages apart and dried them over the torch. 

“That’s not an option,” Kamet said.

“Why not? You two probably killed half the city guard.”

More blood on my hands. Vidmar looked at Kamet, nodded, then turned away. A crack in the stone floor looked like a canyon cutting through a vast gray mountain. 

“Those weren’t trained guards,” Kamet scowled. “They were mercenaries. If the town guard finds us, we’ll be hanging in a tree by morning.” 

Mia coughed gently. “We could take the tunnel.”

“Tunnel?” Vidmar asked.

“Beneath the chapel. I don’t know where it leads, though.”

“How do you know about this tunnel?” Vatis asked.

Mia looked down. Vidmar noticed her callused heels and painfully thin wrists as she played with a droplet of water on the floor, tracing the letter ‘m’.

“Does it matter?” Vidmar said. “Mia, how far is the chapel?”

“Not far,” Mia said, still looking at the ground. A faint letter ‘i’ appeared beneath her fingertip. “I used to live there.”

“You don’t have to explain, Mia,” Vidmar said.

“It’s alright. I want to be honest,” Mia said, glancing at Vatis. “I lived there after my mother died. That’s where all the orphans go. It was fine until they tried to convert me. Stupid, death-worshiping priests. I used to sneak out of our room and read books in the library.” She finished writing her name with her fingertip and scribbled it away with another water droplet. “One night, I followed a priest into the cellar because I always wanted to know what was down there. He kept going lower and lower until he came to a tunnel. Then, a cloaked man appeared carrying a baby, and I ran. I don’t know what they did with the baby, but I never saw it again.” Mia’s face reddened, and she covered her mouth like she had to force herself from saying any more. 

Vidmar put a hand on her shoulder; the sharpness of her bones surprised him. “How do we get to the chapel?” 

“Why can’t we wait until the rain stops?” Vatis pleaded. 

“Go ahead,” Kamet said, squeezing into a clean shirt that was clearly too small. His arms looked like sausages poking out of the casing. “But I’m not sticking around to say hello to the guards.” His short black hair pressed flat against his forehead, laying over his eyes like dark curtains.

Vatis huffed. “Fine, are there more shirts?” 

Kamet threw one at him. Vatis didn’t put it on. Instead, he stuffed his invitation inside his book, wrapping the shirt tightly around it. “Are there more in the pantry?” 

Kamet snorted as he strapped two swords around his waist. “Yes, but we will leave without you if you don’t hurry.”

Vatis jogged to the pantry, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the stone as he moved. Vidmar examined his pack. It contained four knives, the golden-hilted dagger, a spool of thread, an empty waterskin, his cloak, a small cast-iron pot, and, most importantly, the stone - his first and last clue. Gaffer told him Mia’s book might provide some insight. He examined Mia as she placed the book into her bag. It lies near the dead. What does that mean? He left Yimser with more questions than answers, as he did in every city for the past two years.

“Damn,” Kamet said, throwing the suit of mail on the ground. “Underfed children, the lot of them. No offense. Might fit you, though, Vidmar.”

“I hate mail, too loud,” Vidmar said.

“Fine, but it seems a shame to waste it.” 

Vidmar filled his waterskin with a pitcher that was left on the table where Vatis dried his gear. He smelled its contents; unfortunately, the pitcher contained water and nothing stronger. A few moments later, Vatis ambled out of the pantry, holding a stack of blankets and a wooden shield. 

“What are you doing with that,” Kamet laughed, pointing at the shield. 

“I’m trying to stay dry,” Vatis said, stuffing a blanket into his pack. It barely fit. The frayed tan edges poked out of the top. 

“Everyone ready?” Vidmar said.

Vatis slung his bag over his shoulder then draped another blanket over the top of the pack. Kamet adjusted his swords and spat an apple seed onto the floor. It bounced in front of Vidmar’s feet. Mia stood at the door waiting for them; the strap of her bag hung between two bony shoulder blades. She scratched the back of her neck. Vidmar stretched, cracked his remaining knuckles, and grabbed his bag with his left hand. He preferred to hold it while running instead of it draped over his shoulder - it helped him move faster. “Alright, go,” Vidmar said, following Mia out the door. 

---

The chapel was further than Vidmar expected, but fortunately, they did not run into anyone dangerous on their way, only a mother chasing her two children back indoors. Heavy, relentless rain poured their entire run. Vidmar was the first to arrive at the chapel. Once the tall black spire was visible, he sprinted, but Mia was on his heels; he held the massive door open for the others, his back pressed against a stained-glass portrait of a black knight galloping across a battlefield. Kamet burst in, shaking wildly. They waited for Vatis; he jogged, more like stumbled – it was hard to tell in the rain. He held the shield over his head like he was deflecting arrows and moved in a zigzag pattern. Vidmar didn’t know if this was intentional or if the heavy shield pushed the small bard in different directions. Kamet laughed ferociously. Mia wrung out her hair. The shield came sliding through the doorway, and Vatis clumsily followed. 

“Graceful,” Kamet chuckled.

Vatis slid against a bench, clutching his knees. His breathing was short and inconsistent as he gasped for air. Mia held out a hand. “It’s easier to breathe standing up,” she said. Vatis’s chest vibrated as he tried to stand. Kamet stopped laughing. 

“Here,” Vidmar said, offering his shoulder as a perch. Vatis accepted; his breathing slowed. 

“What brings four travelers to our humble chapel?” a black-robed figure said in a deep, penetrating voice.

Vatis nodded, signaling his recovery. Vidmar set him down on the bench. “We seek shelter from the storm.”

“The Darkness welcomes all wanders,” the priest said, eyeing Mia. “You look familiar, girl.”

Vidmar slid in front of her. “She’s my daughter, Verle. I’m Joris. These are our traveling companions, Arvid and Jesper,” Vidmar said, gesturing to Kamet and Vatis, respectively. Mia’s eyes widened when Vidmar called her daughter. A smile crept onto her cracked pink lips. 

”Very well. Please, sit. Take shelter,” the priest said, pointing to a row of wooden benches. The armrests had been carved into the shape of bats. Vidmar brushed one of the bat’s wings, the wood carved so thin he could nearly see through it. He sat. “Tell me,” The priest continued, looming over them like a dark cloud. “Do you welcome The Darkness?”

Vidmar looked at Kamet, who clenched his jaw. Mia picked up a black leather book that sat next to her and opened it. Vatis stood, made an intricate gesture with his thumb on his chest, cleared his throat, and said, “We find peace in The Darkness.”

The priest nodded. They passed his first test. “Please rest, travelers. May The Darkness embrace you when your light fades,” he said, turning away. His gaze lingered on Mia; he turned back briefly, exhaled, then marched toward a black stone altar with a single candle lit atop it. Vidmar watched the priest kneel, gesture like Vatis, then pivot and face the nearly empty chapel. 

Vidmar leaned forward and whispered to Vatis, “I didn’t know you followed,” Vidmar paused, searching for the right words, ‘this’ was the best he could come up with. 

“I don’t,” Vatis said, pretending to pray with a fist balled on his forehead. “But I have always found this interesting and remembered some of their customs.”

Vidmar shook his head. “I have avoided these places like the plague.” 

“Me too,” Kamet said. Vatis shushed him.

“What now?” Vidmar whispered, facing Mia. 

“We could run for it. Egon isn’t very fast,” Mia said as she flipped a page in the book.

“You know him?” Vidmar asked.

“I lived here for a year. Of course, I know him. There are only five priests; the children do all the work.” 

“Where are the other four? Where are the children?” 

“One is probably in the library, one is probably in the kitchen, and the other two are in their rooms resting. They rotate throughout the day. The kids are probably in their room over there,” Mia said, staring at the priest, who looked away when he noticed she was watching. “The stairs to the cellar are behind that door.” She nodded to an ironclad wood door to the right of the priest. 

The priest squinted and walked toward them. Heavy boots echoed through the vaulted chamber as the priest marched with his hands crossed inside his robe’s sleeves. His piercing, green eyes never left Mia. “Verla, was it?” the priest asked Mia. 

“Verle,” Mia corrected. Vidmar was impressed that she remembered the random alias he had given her. 

“Right, Verle. I can’t help but notice that you're reading The Book of Patience and Prophecy, I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but a girl your age reading is quite rare. What is your favorite passage?” The priest asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. 

Mia flipped through the book. 

“Her education was quite important to her mother before she passed,” Vidmar said. 

“Before The Darkness embraced her,” Vatis corrected, adding a sniffle to round off his performance.

The priest began to speak, but Mia interrupted, reciting a passage from the book. “The Darkness is both cold and warm. Inevitably, The Darkness will embrace the world. Only the devoted will feel its warmth, while heretics and heathens are frozen in sin.” Well, that’s fucking terrifying, Vidmar thought. 

“Ah, Prophecy, passage thirteen,” the priest said, nodding. 

“Fourteen,” Mia said, pointing to the dark number fourteen in the book. 

“Very astute,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You remind me of an orphan who lived here not too long ago. Smart girl, but I expect she is frozen in The Darkness now, too curious for her own good. The Darkness is not fond of curiosity.” His tone shifted from astonishingly happy to darkly sinister. Mia remained calm. Vidmar jumped as the chapel’s bell rang. Intricately designed candle holders wobbled on each of the bell's ten rings. “Alas, my respite with The Darkness has arrived. Goodnight, travelers, do not fear The Darkness. Embrace her and rest.” 

“We long for our final rest,” Vatis said, bowing. The priest returned the bow and marched in the direction of the library.

“Is he going to kill himself?” Kamet asked as they watched him walk away. 

Mia snickered. “He’s going to sleep, but this is our only chance.” Mia tiptoed down the aisle, ensuring the priest was out of sight. 

They grabbed their gear and followed Mia, Vidmar behind Kamet, and Kamet behind Vatis. A trail of water droplets and wet footprints marked their path; the priests would know precisely where they went. Vidmar tried to scrub the watermarks away, but it was useless. We have to hurry.  They slithered one by one to the ironclad door. It creaked as Mia opened it. “Come on! Go,” she said, pushing them through the doorway. It thudded shut behind them, and Mia crept to the front of the line again, grabbing a lantern off the wall. “This way.”

There was only one way to go, down a steep stone staircase, through an arched doorway, and into a narrow, unlit tunnel. Vidmar held Kamet’s belt and nearly bumped into him when they stopped abruptly. 

“Why are we stopping?” Vidmar said. He heard the door’s creaky hinges open from behind them. The door crashed shut, echoing down the chamber; heavy footsteps chased the echo. 

“They’re coming,” Kamet said, moving aside.

Vidmar noticed why they had stopped. A tiny skull had been mounted to the mouth of the tunnel. Vidmar’s entire body convulsed as he held back an identical reaction. Fuck. “Mia, we have to move,” Vidmar said, rubbing her back and swallowing bile. His palm bounced off each protruding vertebrate. “The fact that you got us here is amazing, but I’ll lead now. You follow behind me, Kamet take the rear in case they catch us, and Vatis keep up.” Vidmar scooted up to the front, grabbing the lantern. Kamet drew a sword. The heavy footsteps behind them seemed to be closer.

---

Vidmar had been jogging down the tunnel for what felt like hours before he stopped. “Everyone here,” he asked, catching his breath. They weren’t moving fast, but the air was heavy and thick. Fuzzy black mold grew on the jagged walls.

“Yes,” Mia said flatly. Vidmar could sense her behind him. 

“We’re here,” Kamet called through raspy breaths. “The bard needs a break, though.” Vidmar heard Vatis’s labored breathing. “I don’t think they followed us,” Kamet continued as his voice returned to normal. “Haven’t heard their boots in a while.”

“Why would they stop?” Vidmar asked.

“They probably know what’s on the other end of this tunnel, or maybe there’s no way out,” Kamet said. 

“Maybe word spread about what you did to those men at the docks, and the priests aren’t so eager to welcome The Darkness as they seem,” Vatis said through heavy breaths.

Whatever caused the priests to stop following, Vidmar still wanted to hurry. He didn’t want to take any chances. “Maybe. Let’s take a moment to rest. Here,” Vidmar said, passing his waterskin to Mia. She accepted with shaking hands. “Go slow, then pass it back,” Vidmar added. She did. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the girl. Mia didn’t freeze in battle; she was nimble enough to keep up with him, adapted quickly, and hopefully, she could help him find the crown. When the waterskin returned to Vidmar, it was nearly empty. 

“Damnit, Kamet, you better have filled yours too,” Vidmar said, taking a sip.

“It wasn’t me,” Kamet said. “I have some vodka.”

“Of course,” Vidmar said.

“I’m sorry,” Vatis said. “It was me. I can’t seem to quench this burning in my throat. It's like I’ve transformed into a dragon.”

“It’s called endurance, and you have none,” Kamet said. He seemed to be growing more annoyed with Vatis as his usually kind-hearted jests teetered too close to genuine criticism. 

“Again, apologies,” Vatis said. “I’m ready.”

Vidmar decided it was best to ignore the escalating tension between Vatis and Kamet. He listened for followers, heard none, and tightened his grip on the lantern. It was nearly out of oil. “Let’s go,” he said and jogged down the tunnel. 

---

Vidmar slowed his pace as he heard rain pummeling the ground above them. The lantern only had minutes left of light, if not seconds. 

“It’s still raining,” Vatis sighed as he and Kamet caught up. 

“Yes, but we have to be close. We’ve been jogging uphill for a while,” Vidmar said as the lantern went out. “Shit. We will have to take it slow the rest of the way. Mia grab my pack, Vatis take Mia’s, and Kamet hold Vatis’s.” He felt Mia pull on his bag.

“Anyone want to trade? I don’t want to ruin the champion’s pack with my greasy fingers,” Kamet said. 

“Just grab it,” Vatis said.

“Vatis, there are children present,” Kamet said. 

“Will you two shut up and hold on?” Vidmar said, taking careful steps in the dark. 

They inched forward, step after step. Vidmar wanted to move faster but withheld in case the tunnel diverted at some point. As they climbed, the rocky floor transitioned into carved steps. Vidmar tripped over the first one and the second before he realized they were stairs. Dim, gray light gleamed into the tunnel ahead of them. 

“We made it,” Vatis said, sounding exacerbated.

Vidmar picked up his pace as the tunnel brightened, taking a long, deep breath of the fresh, albeit damp air. They emerged in a clearing of tall pine trees, standing at the mouth of the tunnel as the rain stopped.