Start from the beginning - Tales & Treasure Table of Contents
“What’s going on?” Vidmar asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as someone shook him awake. No one answered, so he rolled over, looking for the culprit. He blinked and saw Vatis slide to Kamet’s bed to perform a similar awakening. Bad idea. Growling, Kamet turned over. Somehow, he lifted Vatis into the air by his neck while still lying down.
“Wake me like that again, and I’ll kill you,” Kamet said, throwing Vatis to the floor and rolling back onto his stomach.
Vatis shot up faster than Vidmar had ever seen the bard move. “We must hurry, please.” He pulled back the curtains, but only a faint glow entered the room.
His sore joints cracked as Vidmar stretched, still groggy. “I’m not leaving until you tell me why?” Vidmar said, sitting up. Vatis now knelt over Mia, whom he woke much more gently.
Mia yawned. “What’s happening?”
Vidmar pulled on his boots. “Ask Vatis.”
Mia turned toward Vatis, who was now back at the door, strumming his fingers against the wood. “Vatis?” she asked.
Vatis tapped his foot. “We need to leave. When Vidmar says we need to leave, nobody questions it. But the one time I request a bit of urgency, you all look at me like I murdered somebody.”
“Did you?” Kamet groaned into the mattress.
The tapping quickened. “What? Of course not.”
“It seems like you murdered someone,” Kamet said, rolling onto his back. “Gods, my head. If you all could stop spinning, we might be able to get somewhere.”
Vidmar looked out the window; only a sliver of the morning sun appeared beyond the horizon. “You can’t drink like you used to,” he said, trying to button his shirt. Vidmar had adjusted to his handicap, but the task he hated most was buttoning his shirt. He wasn’t particularly good at it before the injury; it never seemed like a task that required more than minimal effort or attention, but now it was nearly impossible. The smooth, black button slipped from his grip. “Shit.”
“At least I can button my shirt,” Kamet said.
The last button slid into place. “Normally, your mother helps me with my buttons, although it’s with my trousers, and the buttons are being undone.”
Kamet stood quickly, then fell back onto the bed. He tried to stand again, using the bedpost as a cane. “You’re lucky I’m seeing three of you right now. I don’t know which one to hit.”
Vidmar laughed as he packed his bag. He watched the bard pace back and forth, occasionally putting an ear to the door. What’s gotten into Vatis? Vidmar was used to quick, early morning escapes, but he liked to know what he was running from. What did that other bard say?
“Let’s go,” Vatis insisted.
Mia shuffled between Vidmar and Kamet, meeting Vatis at the door. “I’m ready.”
“Thank you, Mia. At least someone here takes me seriously,” Vatis said.
Mia looked away as she twirled her hair.
“She’s young. She’s excited to explore,” Vidmar said. The leather strap around his left thigh was wearing thin. I’ll have to replace this, he thought as he tightened it and slid a dagger in place. “Kamet and I have seen enough of this world to know that we must cherish these calm moments before…”
“Before it all goes to shit,” Kamet interrupted.
“Not exactly what I would have said, but yes, before it all goes to shit.”
Vatis clenched his fists, grinding his knuckles together in front of his mouth. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say. It’s all gone to shit. We need to leave.”
“I told you he killed somebody,” Kamet said, slinging his pack over his shoulder.
After a frantic trip through the backdoor of the Troubled Pike, they found themselves in an alley that smelled of stale mead and rotting fish. Vatis led the way onto the main thoroughfare in Dartmore. Merchants and shop owners began opening their establishments as the first rays of sunlight shined on the eastern half of the town. Long shadows hid the faces of the people they passed. Beads of dew streaked the store windows. Dartmore’s entire merchant district could fit into a single city block in Haran. The quaint shops had a peaceful aura, making Vidmar wonder why he hadn’t spent more time here. Too close to Barna, his subconscious answered.
“What happened with Kytia last night?” Mia asked as they walked down the brick-paved street.
“Nothing of note,” Vatis said, breathing hard. He walked briskly, only pausing to look down side streets and alleys. “We reminisced. She was my teacher at the Bard’s College.”
“Then why are we leaving in such a hurry?” Mia asked. Vidmar was thankful that the girl had taken over the questioning. Vatis was more receptive toward her.
Vatis sighed but did not look back at the group trailing a few paces behind him. “I will explain everything once we get out of this forsaken town. Darkness. What’s the fastest way to Vicus?”
Vidmar jogged to catch up to the bard. “Probably a ship, but I doubt any ferries sailing at this hour.”
“Fuck,” Vatis said. Vidmar eyed the bard after his unaccustomed curse. He looked like a deserter with recruiters on his tail – a look Vidmar was all too familiar with. Fucking recruiters. Dark circles emerged below the bard’s brow; his heavy lids hung low, disguising his swollen red eyes. He hasn’t slept in days.
“We might be able to persuade a sailor or fisherman to take us south,” Vidmar said as the street turned southwest toward the Fox River.
“There has to be a wagon or caravan going south,” Kamet urged from behind Vidmar.
“We’ll see. I think the docks are at the end of this street.”
Vidmar smelled the docks before he could see them. The fishy, musky scent from the quick-moving river brought back memories of his youth in Haran. He could hear the chatter of dock workers beginning their day over the gentle lapping of waves against the ships. Two cogs sat docked next to well-kept wooden piers while a small crew prepared a fishing vessel. “Hurry,” Vidmar said. “We might be able to catch them before they push off.” Vidmar ran to catch the captain; he heard Vatis’s frantic breathing as the bard tried to keep up.
“Good morning,” Vidmar called.
Two workers looked at each other confused, nodded, and carried on with their work without a word. A tall, slender man appeared and handed the two perplexed men a net. “Mornin’,” he said, pulling up his trousers that were clearly too large.
“A fine day for fishing,” Vidmar said with his hands on his hips.
“Aye,” the man said. “It is.”
“Can you take us to Vicus?” Vatis interjected. “We can pay.”
Vidmar shook his head. Damnit, Vatis, let me handle this. He scowled at the bard and clenched his fists.
“Vicus, that’s a ways south. I can’t afford two days without fishin’,” the sailor said.
Vatis began to speak again, but Vidmar quickly interjected. “I apologize for my companion’s impulsiveness. Where are you fishing today?” Vidmar knew if they didn’t want to spend every coin they had, he would have to negotiate a fair rate, which started with getting on the captain’s good side.
“A few miles downriver, good fishin’ next to the sandbar,” the sailor said.
“Well, if you’re heading downriver, perhaps we can ride along. We aren’t afraid of a hard day's work, and my friend here is a terrific bard; he could entertain the whole crew,” Vidmar said, draping his arm over Vatis’s shoulders.
“My crew doesn’t need help, and stories can’t feed my family,” the captain said. “If you want passage to Vicus. It’ll cost ya 100 Kan, not a coin less.”
100 Kan, how dumb does he think we are? “What about 50? Half now and the other half in Vicus,” Vidmar said. I doubt we’ve got 50 between us.
The sailor spat into the river. “The price is 100.”
Vidmar watched Vatis reach into his bag as he thought of another counteroffer. “What about…”
“Is this enough?” Vatis said, holding up an emerald the size of his thumbnail. Where did you get that? Vidmar thought. The gem had to be worth more than ten times the fare the captain was charging.
The captain’s eyes widened, but he appeared to restrain himself as he scratched his chin, pretending to ponder the offer. “Aye, that’ll do.”
Damnit Vatis. I could have gotten him down to 50. “I hope this generous offer buys us a little urgency,” Vidmar said, hoping Vatis picked up on his disappointment.
“Aye,” the captain said.
A few miles downriver and a couple of hours later, Vatis finished his explanation for their hasty departure. He’s withholding information. It doesn’t make sense. Vidmar wanted to ask Kamet what he thought about Vatis’s story, but the mercenary was too busy getting seasick to debate the merits of the bard's explanation.
“I’m going to kill you, Vidmar,” Kamet said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m,” he started before vomiting over the ship's railing.
Vidmar rubbed his back like a mother soothing a sick child. “No one forced you to come,” he said before turning his attention back to Vatis. “So, you deserted your guild, your friends, because you were scared.”
Vatis bit his thumbnail, avoiding eye contact with Vidmar. “I suppose you could say that,” he said as his gaze drifted distantly to the sky.
“I told you he was a coward,” Kamet said. The mercenary curled himself into a ball with his back against the ship’s mast.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to call anyone a coward,” Vidmar said, handing him a piece of stale bread.
Mia leaned over a rail near the bow of the ship. Vidmar was glad he sent her away while Vatis explained what had happened. For some reason, she seemed to admire Vatis. It’s better that she doesn’t know the whole truth, Vidmar thought. Although I doubt Vatis told me everything.
“I still don’t understand why,” Vidmar said, stepping next to Vatis. The bard slid further away. “If you ran then, why didn’t you run from Zidane or in Yimser? Why did you save me in Haran? Those men are much more dangerous than common bandits.”
Vatis licked his lips. Waves crashed against the slow-moving ship. “I want your story,” he whispered.
“I gave you my story. It’s not that interesting.”
Vatis met Vidmar’s gaze but quickly looked away. “You gave me a few chapters of your story, exciting chapters, no doubt, but far from whole. Your current quest is groundbreaking. The world will want it. I want it and intend to be there for the climax.”
A piece of Vidmar was flattered that Vatis still wanted his story - a small piece. He didn’t have children, so this would be a way to leave his mark on the world, a way to be remembered. Another part of him was outraged. He dragged Vatis halfway around the known world just for him to have another tale to tell in taverns. He’d lost his fingers because of Vatis. Worst of all, he thought they had become friends. Vidmar had never had many friends aside from Kamet. He succeeded alone; he survived alone. Vidmar had accepted being alone. It’s not worth it, he thought, pushing his anger into his gut for it to simmer a little longer.
A gull scooped a scrap of bread off the deck, swooping over their heads, close enough to grab. The water thrummed in the wake of the silence between Vidmar and Vatis. The bard hung his head and walked away.
Vidmar followed Vatis to the stern, looking over the railing at the wake in the murky river behind the ship. He exhaled and turned toward Vatis. “The climax of my story happened long ago, Vatis. Everything after has been filler, padding before the inevitable conclusion. I have made enemies with two of the most powerful men in Emre. There is only one way my story ends, and it's not a happy one. Don’t let yours end the same way.”
Vatis stared vacantly into the water. “Unfortunately, that’s how most stories end,” Vatis said without blinking. Vidmar nodded, trying to think of something to say, but Vatis hummed a few ominous notes and began again. “It’s what we do before the ending that matters. I want to help you finish your task. I want to be there when you find it and when you decide what to do with it.” Vatis turned his head away, shielding his eyes.
Vidmar patted Vatis on the back. The bard still looked away. “So, you believe it’s real, that there’s actually a chance we can find it?” Vidmar asked.
Vatis finally met Vidmar’s gaze. “It is real. I think you’re closer than anyone has come before.”
A bell rang as Vicus’s docks appeared on the river's western shore. Vidmar couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in years, he had hope. He still believed that Vatis was hiding something, but Vidmar was no stranger to secrets of his own. He decided to trust the bard and trust that whatever secrets Vatis had were better left hidden.
“Thank you, Vatis. I hope you’re right.”