Authors: Wil Ogden
Pantros woke with his hand draped over his sack of coins and gripping the scabbard of the Abvi sword. He looked to the other bed in the room but it was empty. Neither of his coins had been disturbed. Had his sister opted to sleep in Thomas' bed?
He scrubbed the thought from his head, instead analyzing the bell of the Abvi sword. He knew little of metal work, but couldn't help but be impressed. The intricate silver lace of the bell seemed as delicate as fey silk. He didn't dare touch it to see how strong it actually was. He couldn't see any hint of a tool mark and couldn't find any indication of where the metal had been welded.
Unable to completely force his sister from his mind, he buckled the sword to his belt and grabbed his satchel. He let the coin fall to the ground when he opened the door and left it where it lay. That and the coin from the window could go to whoever made the bed.
In the taproom, he found his sister sitting in a booth talking with Thomas. Sheillene sat alone at another table and waved him towards her. Thomas's large band mate was sleeping on the floor by the fireplace.
"He says he's not half ogre," Sheillene said as Pan sat across from her. "I'm not sure I believe him."
"I don't think he's half anything," Pantros said. "He might be three and a half somethings."
Sheillene laughed. "I'll have to remember that one."
"You remember everything," Pantros said. "That's what makes you such a fine bard."
Nodding, Sheillene asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"
"Well enough," Pan said.
"You?"
"I got a few hours after the fight with your sister last night." When Pan looked at her quizzically, Sheillene explained. "See that blue hat on the table next to Thomas?"
Pantros nodded. It was the hat he'd always seen on Thomas' head. "His lucky hat, he did have it."
"No, I had it," she said. "Tara was less than happy with me when she learned that I did and that Thomas had left it with me when he ran away."
"She's upset because he told you he was leaving and never told her." Pantros understood.
"I left the Hedgehog three days after he did, telling Tara that I would find Thomas for her." Sheillene said. "I didn't lie. I looked for him. I didn't tell her that he spoke to me before he left. I didn't tell her why he left. When the hat came out, so did that secret."
"And that secret caused the fight?" Pantros asked.
"No, that secret ended it." Sheillene said. She reached across the table and put her hands on Pan's shoulders. "Thomas cannot speak an untruth. He couldn't stay waiting for the day when he'd have to tell Tara that your parents were dead."
Pantros had believed they were dead. Tara had told him that they must be dead, else they would have returned. But having it stated like a fact knocked the breath from Pantros.
"You've known this for that many years?" Pantros asked.
"Yes. I'd have told Tara and you, but you knew already. At least you believed already. The day he left, Thomas made me ask him of Kita and Leo's fate. And he told me. It has been ungodly hard not to tell you both earlier, but it always seemed even harder to tell you." Sheillene let her hands fall to the table. "This shouldn't be about me now. Pan, are you okay?"
Pantros didn't feel okay. He'd always hoped they were out there somewhere, trying to get back to him. Now those hopes were gone, leaving a large empty place inside him. "I barely remember them. I hadn't yet reached my tenth summer when they left. All I know is that before I was born they lived in a place called Novarra and had ruled on the council there. They'd left in a time of turmoil and started a life in Ignea. They were only returning to formally renounce their claim to their council seats before their rivals tracked them down."
"Because their rivals had tracked them down."
Sheillene said. "Before I was a bard, I was a bounty hunter. I came to meet your sister when my partner and I went to the Hedgehog to claim the bounty on your parents, which specifically preferred
them
dead. When we found Kita, she had a baby bump and I wouldn't go further with the job. My partner also wouldn't kill your mother while she was pregnant. Your parents fled, hiring the first ship they could from Ignea to Novarra. They should have made it there several weeks before your mother was due to give birth. But they were dead by my partner's hand before they got there. I guess the purse was just too great for him to stand by his morals."
"You're morals are not as high as I believed them to be," Pantros said. Sheillene had always been one to speak of heroic acts of charity and kindness. He couldn't imagine her as a killer for hire.
"I've never committed an act I am ashamed of," Sheillene said.
"You were a bounty hunter." Pantros leaned back, away from her.
"I still am, Pan." Sheillene pulled a pendant from under her shirt. "This marks me as a Master Hunter in the Guild of the Hunt. I didn't give up my life to start another as a bard. I have cut back on the kill bounties, but every kill bounty I have seen has been for one criminal who crossed another. The men I kill very probably deserve it."
"You would have killed my mother," Pantros said.
"No, as evidenced by the fact that I didn't." Sheillene said. "I am the greatest archer alive. I win every tournament. I can shoot a pea dangling on a thread, twice, at fifty paces. I would have killed a criminal, but I knew as soon as I saw your parents that they were not criminals. They were safe from me. And I never did collect the bounty on you."
“What bounty on me?” Pantros asked. “No one knows of anything I’ve done.”
“There are several bounties out in Ignea offering gold for information about certain burglaries with large bonuses if we can produce the actual burglar,” Sheillene said. “I know enough of your exploits and your methods to be able to connect you to all nineteen bounties.”
“Well then, that falls more into the morality of the Sheillene I've known for nine years. I can only guess the bounties were not high enough to draw the attention of others from your guild.”
“Few bounties are high enough for a hunter to enter Ignea,” Sheillene said. “In a city where piracy is the main source of trade, there are thousands wanted by the merchants of other cities. Hunters are not welcome in Ignea. So I don’t go out of my way to let anyone know of my other profession. I like the world to believe that I’m just a bard who occasionally shows off my skills at archery.”
Pantros knew of Sheillene's skills with her bow, which was part of the reason she could make the trip westward across land. "Is Tara still mad at you? It's going to make for an uncomfortable journey if you two are not friends."
"She can be mad at me and still be my friend, Pantros." Sheillene waved at Tara. Tara waved back, but didn't stop her conversation with Thomas. "Tara knew why I went to the Hedgehog the first time. She's already accepted me for who I am. She's just mad at what I knew and didn't tell her. But she understands why I didn't tell her. Besides, she's madder at Thomas, which makes me better than someone in her eyes."
Marc rolled a tree stump over and flipped it up to act as a stool by the end of the table where Sheillene and Pantros talked. Sitting, he waved at Pan. "Hi, I'm Marc Williams, musician. Looks like Thomas is in a private conversation. I hope you don't mind if I join you."
"There's room for you at the table," Pantros said.
Sheillene said, "I think he means on the journey. Your sister invited Thomas along."
"What?" Pantros said. "This is not a safe trip. We left Dale and Bouncer behind because the fewer, the safer."
"I agree," Sheillene said. She pointed to the corner by the stage where Thomas and Marc's guitars leaned against the wall by a matched pair of swords. "Marc says he knows how to use his swords, I expect we'll find out."
"And Thomas?"
Pantros asked Marc. "What can he bring to a fight if we get ambushed?"
"Um, one more target to thin out the enemy?" Marc offered. "He knows which end of the sword to hold. He's pretty quick at running away too."
"And you've been in a fight for your life, how many times?" Sheillene asked.
Marc's voice seemed a bit meek when he replied, "The pressure in the last village tournament was intense. But that was a fishing tournament. Did I mention I can fish?"
Sheillene rolled her eyes and Pantros and stood up from the table. "I'll be outside. I'm counting to three hundred then leaving town." She put a hand on Pantros shoulder as she stepped away.
Pantros looked up at her when her hand didn't leave his shoulder. She was standing completely still, staring at the doorway. A familiar, dreadful growl told Pantros what he'd see when he followed her gaze. His fingers checked the bulge in his shirt. At last he understood what the creature wanted. Without looking at the doorway, Pantros dove away from the table, putting distance between himself and anyone else in the room.
The creature roared as it charged. Pantros came to his feet only to have to launch himself upward. He grabbed the ceiling rafters and pulled his feet up as the demon passed under him and crashed into the stone fireplace, sending a splash of embers into the room. The demon stood and turned, uncaring that
it’s
feet were deep in a pile of glowing coals.
Tara rushed over and started kicking coals off of the wood floors and back to the fireplace. Pantros dropped to stand between Tara and the Beast. He drew the Abvi sword and braced for the next charge.
"Move away from me you idiot." Tara said. "It's chasing that cursed stone. It'll ignore me."
Pantros, knowing that his sister was right, stepped sideways. The creature squatted then pounced. Bracing himself Pan held the point of the Abvi sword toward the beast. The beast never hit. Marc, his swords still leaning against the wall with his guitar, backhanded the beast, sending it sprawling to the ground.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Pantros lunged, pressing the tip of his blade through the creature's chest. As the one at the Hedgehog had, the beast vanished in burning cloud of ash.
"I was wrong," Sheillene said. "Fewer numbers are not the answer here."
"What?" Pantros replied. "You saw that thing. Why would we want to risk more lives?"
"But it's only after you." Sheillene motioned at Tara who was just finishing sweeping the fire back into the hearth. "Tara was unharmed, though she was at one time barely more than a handbreadth away from the Hound. Having more people along means we can control the fight by how we position ourselves around you. I don't even care if Marc can actually use his swords. With his size and strength, and knowing the beasts will always be chasing you, it's almost enough to be certain of your survival."
"I killed it," Pantros said.
Marc raised his forefinger, but it was Sheillene who spoke the point. "Actually Marc's knocking it to the floor was the deciding factor in that battle. You merely administered the inevitable."
Marc tapped the blade of Pantros' sword with his finger. "With a flimsy sword like that, you're not going to shift the trajectory of an airborne…whatever that was."
"Sheillene called it a Hellhound, just as James did." Pantros said. "Sheillene, have you seen these before?"
*Who is that oaf calling 'Flimsy'?*
"Yes," Sheillene said. "Well, in books and a couple tapestries, not in person."
Pantros looked around. "Who said that?"
"Me," Sheillene said.
*Me.*
Pantros leaned to look behind Marc.
"Not what you said, Sheillene.
Who called Marc an oaf?"
"No one said anything about Marc being an oaf," Sheillene said. "I think I asked if he was an ogre last night."
*He called me flimsy, I called him an oaf.*
"Hold this please." Pantros handed his sword to Sheillene then dropped to the floor, searching under the tables. He crawled around behind the bar, but no one was there.
"I know what's talking," Sheillene said. "I just heard it too."
"I'm not hearing anything, now. Don't humor me." Pantros stood up behind the bar
"Your sword is insisting I return it to you." Sheillene walked over and set the sword on the counter. "It's very finicky about who touches it."
"This is talking?" Pantros picked up the sword.
*Yes,* the sword said. It took a moment for Pantros to realize he wasn't actually hearing the sword with his ears but with his mind.
"It's a nice sword," Sheillene said. "Too nice for a human, many Abvi would say. Do I want to know the story about how a human boy came to possess an Abvi Ensouled Blade?"
"Not much of a story, really."
Pantros shrugged. "James gave it to me. I may not be twenty yet, but I'd think what I've faced has earned the title of 'man'."
*My owner is a human boy?*
"In my eyes you've been a man since you robbed Grey Ed of every last penny and gave the money to the folk of orphan's row."
Pantros groaned. "It's really hard to hold two conversations at once."
"Sheath the sword," Sheillene said. "It's only conscious when unsheathed."
Pantros did as Sheillene suggested. "Grey Ed was scum. He stole pennies from the penniless. I didn't rob him of everything though. I did, in fact, leave him with precisely one penny. And that part about Orphan's row is pure fiction. Who told you this story?"
"Rumors, mostly.
Grey Ed was very vocal in his search for the boy in black silk. So vocal that it got him half-keelhauled when he got too loud in the presence of some captain with a hangover."
"Half Keelhauled?" Marc asked. "Is that half as bad as a full keelhaul?"
"Only if you can breathe water," Sheillene said. "It means they stop when they've hauled the poor sap half way around, which pretty much leaves them right at the keel." She turned back to Pantros. "And I know the part about Orphan's row is not fiction. The tales of silver coins appearing in people's soup or in their fireplaces was not the blessings of the volcano, but the work of the best roof-walker I know of."
"Isn't robbing from the rich to give to the poor a bit cliché?" Marc asked, "It’s like something from a bard's fairy tale."