Tales & Treasure Chapter 26

Vidmar - Watchtowers

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Vidmar leaped over a fallen tree. Mia was on his heels while Kamet and Vatis brought up the rear. 

“Can we not have a moment’s rest?” Vatis said, gasping for air. They had been running for no more than a few miles.

Vidmar held up his hand, signaling a stop. He turned around to face the group. “Fine, but be quick,” Vidmar said. Mia and Kamet nodded in agreement.

Vatis exhaled and fell to his knees, placing his hands above his head and breathing deeply. Kamet huffed, then broke a dead, low-hanging branch off a nearby tree, fashioning it into a makeshift spear. Mia threw pinecones at the trees. She hit the center of a sparse pine three times in a row. “Impressive,” Vidmar said as they waited for Vatis to catch his breath. “I’ll show you how to throw a knife once we get somewhere safer.”

The girl jumped up as she grabbed another pinecone. “Really?” she said, bursting with excitement that quickly faded. Her face reddened, and she looked at the ground as if she were embarrassed. I mean, I would like that. Thank you.” She shuffled through the pine needles.

Vidmar smiled. “How long have you been on your own?”

Mia threw the next pinecone at a different, thinner tree - a direct hit. “A year, I think,” she said, searching for more ammunition but still avoiding eye contact. 

Vidmar kicked a pinecone over to her. She smiled as she picked it up. “It’s hard. I was only a few years older than you when my Pa died.”

“You’re an orphan, too?” she asked, throwing her pinecone and spinning around in one flawless motion, meeting his gaze. There was a special bond between orphans - not unlike siblings. Orphans understood pain; they knew real hunger, real kill-for-your-next-meal hunger. Dark memories of the streets of Haran bubbled to the surface of Vidmar’s memory, but he pushed them back - popped the bubbles. Those recollections did more harm than good. 

“I never knew my mother; my Pa died when I was thirteen. Pox. I was on my own for a while before….” Vidmar paused for a moment, watching Vatis listen to the conversation while his breathing returned to normal. “…. before I joined the army. Are you ready yet, Vatis?” He said, changing the subject. 

The bard slid his bag around his back and stretched his arms. “Yes, but can you slow the pace a bit?”

“I’ll try.”

Vidmar jogged slower for the first mile or so but picked up the pace again as the sky darkened. He wanted to be far away from Yimser when they rested, but for the first time in years, Vidmar was lost. He didn’t know which direction the tunnel had taken them. The cloudy sky and tall trees blocked his chance of finding a landmark. He ran his hand across a mossy stone and examined a footprint in the mud. 

“What is it?” Vatis asked.

“A deer or a boar, maybe.”

“God’s, I hope it’s not a boar,” Vatis said. His disposition significantly improved each time they stopped. “Years ago, I was traveling near Numeria, and one poor member of our party was speared through the gut by a charging boar. Sweet man, too, though his name escapes me.”

Vidmar looked for more tracks. “If you leave boars alone. They will leave you alone,” he said sternly. He was in no mood for one of Vatis’s rambling road stories; they were far worse than his campfire tales. Pointless, Vidmar thought. However, he found it quite odd that the bard’s demeanor changed so quickly. He found a better set of prints perfectly preserved in the mud a few paces away. “Luckily, these are deer tracks, and they are more skittish than Vatis in a tavern brawl.” 

Mia laughed, a quiet hissing laugh like she was trying to hold it in. She snorted, gasping as her fluttering laughter escaped. Kamet joined her with his contagious, deep, booming laugh.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Vatis sneered.

Vidmar chuckled. “For once, Vatis. I agree.” He followed the deer tracks for some time, stopping repeatedly to reexamine the trail until he heard a loud trickle of cascading water. He stopped. “Do you hear that?”

“Yes,” Kamet said from behind him. “Sounds like a stream.”

“A waterfall,” Vidmar corrected. 

“A waterfall,” Mia echoed excitedly. “I’ve never seen one.”

Vidmar exhaled happily. He knew where they were—the foothill of the Islingrey Mountains east of Yimser. He worried that the tunnel ran west toward the coast or, worse yet, south toward the Kokor Forest and Haran. “My first lesson of scouting, Mia, trust your ears and nose. Don’t rely solely on your eyes. You have five senses for a reason - use them.”

After a treacherous uphill hike over slippery rocks and across a fallen tree, they arrived at the waterfall. Two winding falls splashed into a calm, dark pool. White, frothy water fell against the gray stones, turning them almost black. Moss-covered boulders lined the pool like chairs while tree branches extended over the pond, trying to get a drink of cool water. Vidmar was speechless. He had traveled all over Emre but cherished sights like the falls before him. Mia climbed on top of one of the boulders, dangling her legs over the pond. Her jaw hung open as she surveyed every inch. Vidmar climbed up next to her. “Beats Yimser.”

“Yeah,” she said, watching the water plummet into the pond.

“This seems like a decent spot to rest,” Kamet called to Vidmar. “There’s enough coverage that we could light a small fire, but the falls are loud; we wouldn’t be able to hear anyone approach.”

“Can we please stop? I can’t go any further,” Vatis pleaded. He knelt at the pond’s edge, drinking the clear water with a cupped hand. He splashed his face. “Please.”

“We can rest here,” Vidmar said reluctantly. “We will gather some firewood and set a few traps. Come, Mia. I’ll show you how to set a snare.”

Mia did a backward somersault off the boulder, landing perfectly before she tucked her hair behind her ears. “Show off,” Vidmar smiled.

They hiked uphill around the waterfall, Mia’s arms full of firewood, following the creek cut into the foot of the mountains. She struggled. A few twigs escaped the pile each time she added more. Vidmar held back his laughter. He knew her feelings of wanting to impress; they often led to overexertion or embarrassment. “We should have set the traps before we grabbed firewood,” Vidmar laughed, dropping his sticks in front of Mia. She followed his lead, but a protruding branch scraped against her on its way down, creating a pink scratch that outlined her jaw. She hissed, trying to conceal her pain. 

“Are you alright?” Vidmar asked. 

Mia rubbed the scratch. “I’m fine.” 

Vidmar had to ask her about the book. He had wasted enough time already. “Mia, do you remember when I asked if you knew Gaffer? Are you sure you’re alright?” Vidmar said, watching her rub the darkening scrape. He needed to approach the subject carefully. It was too dangerous to let Mia know too much. He couldn’t risk another person's life over his perilous quest. 

“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine. But, yeah, seemed random,” Mia said, twirling her hair. 

“I’ve known Gaffer for a long time, and I came to him for answers. He told me to find you, but somehow, you found me like we were meant to meet, although I don’t believe in that shit,” Vidmar said, choosing his words carefully. 

“Answers to what?”

Vidmar ignored the question. “There are few as cunning as that old man; don’t let his demeanor fool you. Gaffer said you borrowed a book that could help me.”

Mia tilted her head, scratching behind her ear. “I’m sorry, most of my books are in Yimser.”

“Well, I saw the book I am looking for when you were drying your things—The Mystery of the Pact. It could help me,” he paused. How much can I say?  “It might help me decipher something. Does the book refer to anything as ‘The Dead’?” He removed the spool of thread from his bag as he talked, cut three long pieces, and braided them, trying to appear as casual as possible.

Mia watched him closely. “Um, there’s a story about a battle - lots of people died in it. I don’t know what you mean.”

Vidmar finished braiding, trying a loop in one end of the string. Shit, what do I ask her?  “Does the phrase ‘It lies near The Dead’ mean anything to you? Is it said in the book?” He decided the phrase itself was ominous enough to avoid incriminating her. 

Mia hummed. “I’m not sure,” she said before clicking her tongue. “Oh, wait. Maybe the burial grounds. At the end of the book, there’s this list of members. I only skimmed it, but I think it says something about them all being buried together before they disappeared.”

The knot slipped as Vidmar perked up. Of course, he thought. Why didn’t I think about that? The Pact’s burial grounds weren’t exactly a secret. They were rumored to be at the Kaharn Desert's western edge, but the desert was the most dangerous place in Emre. Violent sandstorms, volatile temperature changes, and much worse lurked in the Kaharn. Vidmar had only been near once, and it was the closest he came to finding out if The Darkness was what he feared. “Will you show me this passage when we get back?”

“Sure, but it’s the most boring part of the book, just a long list and some symbols. The story of Dinardo is much better,” Mia said. 

Vidmar shook his head as he retied the snare. “You like Dinardo?”

“Sometimes. I don’t know how much I believe. Some of his stories are a little crazy.”

“I agree. My Pa used to tell me a story of Dinardo - how he freed his men the night before they were supposed to be hanged. Dinardo controlled people’s minds and ignited fires with his bare hands. You know, real magic.” He finished tying the snare and tested it with a twig. The branch shot into the air and hung from a nearby tree at waist height. He reset the trap.

Mia stood, resting her hand on Vidmar’s shoulder. “You’re going to need real magic for that to work. How is that going to catch a bandit?”

Vidmar chuckled, ushering her backward. “This one isn’t for bandits. It's for rabbits. You know, so we don’t starve when Kamet eats all the food. We’re going to set three more of these, and then we will set a few traps for bigger game.” 

Vidmar showed Mia how to set traps for rabbits, boars, and men. By the end of his lesson, Mia could set a snare about as well as a seasoned scout. “You’re quick,” he said, watching her test the last trap. A thick log launched into the air, dangling above their heads. “Well done.” 

Mia smiled, admiring her work. 

“Let’s see you reset this one,” Vidmar laughed. “There’s no way you can reach it.” He would have to jump to grab the log but might have trouble catching it now that he was crippled; regardless, he could still reach it. Vidmar had no idea how Mia would grab it. He watched her survey the surroundings, then bolt toward a tree, run up the trunk, and leap backward, pulling the log on her way down. She smirked as she reset the trap. “You really are a show-off.”

Mia smiled, picked up her sticks, and waited for Vidmar.

“We should head back,” Vidmar said, their shadows disappearing into the surrounding darkness. Mia nodded. He grabbed his firewood and followed the stream back to the waterfall.

When they returned, Kamet was humming on a boulder he had pushed in front of the campfire. Vatis sat cross-legged on the ground, writing in one of his books. “What took you so long?” Kamet said. “I almost had to send Vatis after you.”

“I showed Mia how to set some snares,” Vidmar said, dropping the sticks behind Kamet. Mia added to the pile. “She’s a better scout than you ever were.”

“Yeah? Did she save the lives of an entire battalion by finding a path around a blockade?” 

“I’m the one who spotted the blockade.”

“Yeah, but I was there,” Kamet said.

“Fair enough. What did we miss?”

Kamet poked the fire with a long stick. “A peddler stopped by and sold us a magic cow. Can’t you see her? Wait, where did she go? Vidma, where are you, girl? Damn. She’s invisible now - magic and all that,” Kamet said, holding a hand to his mouth and mooing like a cow. “Vidma, where’d you go? I’m starting to think we were tricked, Vatis. Well, besides our missing cow, you only missed a bard bathing and an old soldier farting.”

“You know, I thought your mother finally caught up to us,” Vidmar said, nonchalantly adding a log to the fire. 

Kamet pulled his stick out of the fire. Its smoking, charred tip glowed orange. “What did I tell you about my mother?”

“Nothing the sailors haven’t told me at The Portly Carp.”

“Watch it,” Kamet growled, pushing the stick closer to Vidmar’s face. Vidmar blew on it, watching the embers glow brighter.  

“What’s The Portly Carp?” Mia asked, grabbing her pack.

Vidmar smiled and nodded to Kamet, who returned a menacing glare but remained silent. 

“It’s a tavern of sorts that encourages young women to become independent entrepreneurs, so long as they pay the house a small tax,” Vatis chimed in without diverting his attention from his book. 

“What?” Mia said, scrunching her face like she’d just smelled manure.

Kamet still held the stick in Vidmar’s face. “Put that thing down, Kamet. It’s a whore house in Haran, and that’s all she needs to know.” 

“I’m watching you,” Kamet said, pointing the stick at Vidmar’s chin one last time before adjusting a log in the fire. 

It was quiet for a while. A crescent-shaped moon appeared amongst the stars through a hole in the forest’s canopy. Stars always seemed brighter in the north, more peaceful. Vidmar listened to the calming hush of the waterfall behind them and forgot, for a moment, that they were running from one of the most dangerous men in Emre. Am I running? I’m still searching for the damn crown. Then there was the issue with Zidane. Did he work for Alcin? How much does he know? They also might have made enemies with The Church of Eternal Darkness. It seemed like every day, Vidmar created a new enemy. What was one more? Hundreds of questions pleaded for answers in his mind; for now, he enjoyed the waterfall’s serenity and the company of his companions.

Vidmar felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Mia. She handed him The Mysteries of The Pact. “Here,” she said. “But be careful. I told Gaffer I would give it back.” 

Vidmar hoped she would have a chance to give the book back someday. He opened it slowly. “Thank you, Mia.” The fragile pages crinkled as he flipped through. A chapter called The Destruction of Tyranny caught his eye, but he didn’t stop to read further. Instead, he skipped the remaining pages and opened the back cover. Why didn’t I do this in the first place?  He only had to turn three pages before he found the list. Each name had a date and a symbol next to it - Azariah Emmitt 3 Harvest 627 with a triangular shape next to the date, Zaccheus Templeton 12 Winter Solstice 627 with a similar triangular shape as well as two circles, one with a dot in the middle and one with a line through the top. He pulled the stone out of his pack.

“What’s that?” Mia asked, leaning in.

Vidmar jumped. He didn’t realize how close Mia had gotten. “It’s just a stone with some markings that I hope to translate.”

“Oh,” Mia said. Vidmar heard skepticism in her voice.

The stone and the list had the same triangular markings, but the stone had three others that were nowhere on the page. “Damn,” Vidmar said louder than he intended. These markings mean nothing to me. 

“What’s wrong?” Mia asked. “The book doesn’t help?” She looked hurt. 

Vidmar bit the insides of his cheeks, exhaling while rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn’t answer as he dropped the book and threw a log on the fire; embers danced into the night sky, burning out like his ever-decreasing optimism. Vidmar’s gaze followed the path of one of the orange dots. It rose higher and higher until the orange glow disappeared, and a trail of smoke fell to the ground by his toes. Wait. Vatis can help, Vidmar thought, remembering the bard’s initial examination of the stone. For a second, hope returned like an old friend. “Vatis, can you make anything of this?” 

Vatis looked up from his book. The reflection of flames frolicked in his dark eyes. “The Mystery of The Pact, a tedious but mostly accurate recollection. In the excitement of winning the tourney, nearly dying, and running until exhaustion, I had forgotten that Mia’s book might be able to help your quest. What are the chances?” He closed the book he was writing in and stuffed it into his pack. Vatis held out his hand. “Let me see.”

Excitement boiled in his stomach, rising higher into Vidmar’s chest. He quickly handed the book and stone to Vatis.

“Interesting,” Vatis began. “Luck is on your side tonight, Vidmar.”

He choked the elation back into his throat. “Do you know what it says? Gaffer thought the symbols said: ‘It lies near the dead.’”

“Hmm,” Vatis said, scanning the page. He licked the tip of his finger and flipped through the book. “It lies near the dead. Yes, well, maybe. Perhaps, it’s buried with the dead. No, no, I don’t think so.” He mumbled under his breath as he continued to think out loud.

“What?” Vidmar asked, growing impatient. 

Vatis bit his nails. “It could be nothing. Maybe it's just my skeptical outlook.” He continued his examination.

“What?” Vidmar and Mia said simultaneously.

Vatis traced the symbols on the rock with his finger. “I think Gaffer was right. It most assuredly says: ‘It lies near the dead.’ But I think ‘lies’ does not mean to lie down but rather to be untruthful. However, I haven’t the slightest clue what ‘it’ means. Hmm. There might be a sister stone. It’s rare, but sometimes, The Pact used two or more stones to deliver a message. One stone was brought by different couriers, an extra bit of caution when Dinardo gained more power. That way, the enemy wouldn’t have the full message if a courier were killed or captured.”

“And you think my stone is part of a longer message?” Vidmar asked.

“Perhaps.”

Vidmar shot up and kicked the dirt. The tiny particles sizzled as they passed through the fire. “How the fuck am I going to find the other half? Why is there always another clue?” He ground his teeth to keep himself from screaming. 

“Isn’t that the job of a treasure hunter?” Vatis asked softly. 

“I’m not a damn treasure hunter. I’m a soldier, a scout, a killer. I’m done pretending.”

A terrible silence fell over them. Vidmar rubbed his eyebrows and watched a beetle dive into the fire like it had nothing left to live for, and the warmth of the fire appeared to be the best remaining option. He didn’t disagree. It would have been easier if he had died. If Alcin had killed him or if he had frozen to death on Jegon. It would have been easier still if he had died when he turned on Kandrian. Vidmar was one of the few loose ends the King let escape. Yet, it would have been easiest if Elisa had never pulled him out of the sand and left him to die in the desert. Fuzzy shapes mumbled as he focused on the fire. It felt so warm, so inviting. If he were a beetle, he would have flown into the flames. 

“Vidmar,” Kamet said, grabbing his shoulder.

“What?” He snapped. He felt a weight bearing down on him; his head sunk as the stress pushed against him. He could barely keep his eyes open. When was the last time I slept?

“I don’t think he heard you, Vatis,” Mia said.

“What,” Vidmar repeated. He crouched forward, grabbing his opposite elbows and curling into a ball.

“Hobb might be able to help,” Vatis said.

“Hobb, the farmer. How could he possibly help?” 

Vatis stood and walked in front of Vidmar and Mia. He kicked leaves away to clear a patch of dirt. “Can I borrow your stick?” the bard asked Kamet. 

Vatis began drawing a rough sketch of what looked like a map. Vidmar couldn’t help but watch. As it took shape, Vatis elaborated. “This is Emre, well, what we know of Emre. We don’t know what lies beyond the Kaharn Desert to the east.” He scribbled out the eastern half of the map, then continued. “We don’t know what lies across the sea and beyond these mountains.” He crossed out most of the northern half of the map. “We don’t know how or why The Pact disappeared, so let’s focus on what we know. From Yimser to Jegon and everything in between, Western Emre is well documented, and it just happens that two confirmed monuments of The Pact remain.” He drew two small rectangles—one near the desert and one near Numeria. “These towers once belonged to The Pact. Watchtowers, beacons of their strength. Do you remember the tower near Hobb’s farm, the one I fell from?” Vatis asked, rubbing his arm. 

Vidmar tilted his head. “Yes,” he said, drawing out the word while thinking through the implications. 

“I believe it might be the third tower of The Pact. It’s much more decayed than the others, but there’s something strange about it. Why would a random watchtower be in the middle of a farm?” Vatis said, drawing a third rectangle on his map. Next, he drew lines connecting the three towers. “Look at this,” he said. The lines formed a perfect triangle. “It’s The Pact’s symbol, a triangle pointing east. Hobb’s tower is directly north of the tower in Numeria. You cannot tell me this isn’t an interesting coincidence,” Vatis said.

“Is that why you were in it? To look for symbols or signs of The Pact?” Vidmar asked. Mia shifted on the ground next to Vidmar, trying to get a better look at Vatis’s map. Kamet fiddled with the fire. 

Vatis stopped drawing. “Yes.” He didn’t explain.

“And you think Hobb is part of The Pact? He did seem like there was something he didn’t want us to find out,” Vidmar said, trying to think through this revelation. 

“Can you put another log on, Kamet? It’s getting hard to see.” Vatis asked, ignoring the question and drawing a circle around what appeared to be Barna.  

Kamet looked at Vidmar for approval; they didn’t want the flames rising too high. Vidmar nodded, and Kamet added another log. “Thank you,” Vatis said, itching his upper arm. “There hasn’t been a confirmed member of The Pact in Western Emre in centuries, not since Benino Cuaya helped Cairbre write this book, then vanished as if into thin air. That’s one of the greatest mysteries in my profession. Ah, well, I’m getting distracted. Sorry, I don’t often get a chance to talk about history when I’m not telling a story. Where was I?” 

“You don’t think this Hobb person is a part of The Pact,” Mia quickly answered before she slouched backward. 

“Ah, right. Thank you, Mia. I don’t think Hobb is a part of The Pact, but I agree that there is more to him than he lets on. He knew of Dabin and was a spectacular medic for a simple farmer. So he might know something.”

I am constantly moving backward on this quest. Vidmar thought as he sat down. He rubbed his brow with the scabbed stump of a missing finger. “Well, how are we getting back to Vicus?”