~The Lady's Tale~

Vagrant Story fanfic. Setting circa 1300's or  immediately after "Ashes to Ashes".

// … // indicate thoughts

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"If anyone asks, you're to say you were from here… got that? And you'll need new names too… Sweet Lady, John is dead… I can't believe it."

"I know it. You know it. You can stop repeating it…"

The old man's fussing wasn't helping Callo's mood. She slouched against the bar feeling drained of more than just stamina and wellbeing. She felt sick, and scared.  A quick glance at the booth by the window proved her precious charge was safe. Both satchel and boy were quietly slumped against the high-backed bench. The child was using it as a rough pillow while he sought some rest. There was something rather charming about it all. She snapped her mind resolutely back to the task at hand, forcing it to make sense of the cultist's convoluted speech.

"John Hardin was a good man, lass. Well loved in this town. Hell, he almost single-handedly /saved/ this town… Everyone goes on about 'Sydney Sydney Sydney' and well I admit, he is something special… The Lady chose him special and all that… but you can't sit down and have a pint with your local /avatar/ now can you? No! He's not for the low sort like me. What we all needed was a good down-to-earth hero. That was John. He didn't take no guff from anybody… and when that big general over the hill came and tried to burn us out. Geh! You should have heard them go at it. And that was /Before/ they drew steel!"

"Great, marvelous…." The now-outlaw Inquisitor turned a wary eye to the setting sun. It seemed they had hurried all this way only to be stalled by their destination. Her companion continued to bubble on about the deceased despite her best efforts. Thinking of John, of Lea Monde and of the bizarre riddle that was Sydney Losstarot was only giving her a headache. Callo couldn't decide what emotion best suited her memories of the man.

// Hero? I wouldn't know anything about that. Misguided maybe. Ernest… Kind. I think. In his way he tried to be kind. So many men lose that when chasing after higher goals. He didn't deserve to die. Not like that. //

Thinking of the church knights only made her more eager to leave. "About out next move old man. Do you have any /advice/? A ship? Anything? It seems I am responsible for the boy, Joshua, now. What am I to /do/ with him? Where am I to go?"

The questions caught the barkeeper in the middle of yet another tale of the Inestimable-John-Hardin, and brought him up short. "Well you can't stay here… that's certain. Barbadora blood… the church will be after him in a snap, even if he narry shows a sign of anything particular about him…" Wrinkled eyes shifted, suddenly nervous.

"… He doesn't by any change have any marks… a curious… tattoo perhaps?"

Callo blinked at the poor attempt at subtly. "The Succession passed your precious 'Key' to Agent Riot, and from the sound of it he won't be a Riskbreaker anymore so I doubt you'll have to worry. Hell, he may show up /here/ eventually. I am not privy to his confidences. Joshua and I are simply trying to get out of the line of fire."

"And well you should. The world is a topsy-turvy place to be in some times. These days more than ever it seems. John was nobility you know. His family grew up not far from here… not a big title or anything like that, but still. He was brought up proper, not salty old sea folk like us…"

"Does he still have family in these parts?"  The question was out before she could stop herself. Unintentionally kind, interested, concerned. She could have kicked herself but instead could only feign disinterest as she sipped her beer. It was a bit sour and rough to her city-bred taste buds.

"Bless him no, he was the last of the Hardin's… His mother passed away about… geh… three years ago? And by then she had moved to this very town, a respectable widower she was. Madam Hardin… So proud of her son. The house now belongs to some landlord or another, bought by some noble living in the city who don't care a drop about us…"

"He was truly alone then."

"I reckon the cult was his family… He seemed content when he was among them. We even wagered that he might eventually pick a lass and settle down…"

"Do you think Sydney would have let him?" She couldn't help but be incredulous, remembering the way that the fighter had followed the prophet like the tail on a dog. "John seemed…. Very… devoted to the man."

"Lassie… excuse me… /Lady/… /everyone/ was very devoted to the man… Sydney… was like that. You see him and you can't hardly help yourself… Like he was meant to be looked at… meant to be followed. A curious fellow really. Sort of like a cat who was never content to be on the current side of the door, no matter which side he was on. Never could quite be comfortable anyplace, could Sydney…We…"

"I'm sure he was fascinating, and really, if I weren't so /concerned/ about the brother, I would love to hear more…? But is there something that should be /done/ with the boy?"

The old man frowned again, back on track. "Is he… was he 'touched' at all? By the city?"

"… if you mean, 'has he exhibited any unusual talents'… than no. He seems as ordinary as he can be, all things considered." She bit her tongue remembering the way the pale child had pointed out the Riskbreaker without seeing him in the woods earlier in the morning. It felt like a lifetime ago.

// I need to sleep soon or I'll be jumping at shadows myself. // Her own new talents were blessedly silent for a change. Another furtive glance at Joshua set her a little more at ease. He seemed to have a sixth-sense for danger; knowing things without being able to explain how he knew then. At several points during their long trip he had been almost frantic about pulling her into thickets or behind convenient boulders. Every time, she had only just complied when riders would appear from nowhere and race by.

// That doesn't have to be magic… he could just have very good ears… //

"… there were no real plans /for/ him per-say…" She once again forced her tired attention back to her chatty companion.

"What does /that/ mean?"

"Well it was just settled that someone would… you know… look after him… see that he was safe and had a trade…"

"Where was John supposed to take him?"

The barkeeper scratched his chin. Stubble rasped and hissed under his weathered fingers. In any other situation, Callo might have found the old man unbearably lovable. He had many traits that she had found adorable in her own grandfather, right down to the rambling way he told his stories. Right now however, she was beginning to wonder if she wouldn't kill someone to get the answers she needed.

"Don't know if he rightly decided. Out of the country I guess. Someplace the Cardinal couldn't find him easily. England would have been a place, or Italy perhaps…?"

"…England… heaven, that's so /far/…"

"It wouldn't be so bad… not really… this harbor seems a smallish place to you, I have no doubt. But it connects by weekly ships to larger ones down the coast, and even boats that go to Spain and from there to all sorts of places."

"There's a matter of money, of course…"

"Did he leave you nothing to mind the boy?" The weathered fingers felt like soft leather as they patted her hand.

She smiled bitterly. "He was gone before he could advise me one way or the other, all that I know I received from Sydney directly."

"Well there was some money left here… to begin the trip… enough to get you to Barcelona maybe… you could go over-land once you were there? A pilgrim or a helper on one of the convoys? Maybe you could get a good ship to take you all the way through the straights and then north?"

"… Barcelona… it could be done… it's not /that/ far… and it's a large city. From there I could make my way."

The leathery paw gave her another supportive pat before he put away his cleaning rag and slid out from behind the counter. "I'll go ask around after boats, you go ahead and take your lad upstairs, the guest room is on the right. No charge. John wouldn't have minded you in his old room, not with you being a friend and all."

// .. friends…? What an odd thing to say… but I guess if that is how he sees it, I won't be the one to correct him… //

Scrubbing her face to try and force a bit more liveliness into her thoughts, she slipped off the stool and over to the current sum and total of her worldly goods.

// Some weapons, some clothing, several gems the size of my fist, and 4 bottles of highly prized and far too easily traceable wine. // She couldn't help but smile at the way the late day sunlight caught in the golden hair. The child looked like a little cherub. // And one little boy. Who isn't half the burden I expected he'd be. //

"… hey… wake up a little…"

Joshua came awake silently. He did everything silently, so she shouldn't have been surprised. It was still disconcerting however, at how little like a boy he was. He was more of a stern forty year old in a six-year old's body. The illusion was broken when he yawned hugely.

// Now he just looks like a puppy. A tired one at that. //

"It's bed time. At least for a little." She thought she should smile some encouragement, and when she tried it found she could produce a convincing one. "I'm tired too you know."

The little boy nodded solemnly. "Where?"

"Upstairs, we get to use the spare room." With another nod, the child watched her haul the heavy satchel over her shoulder and followed her up the stairs.

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Her dreams finally jarred her out of bed with their mix of anxieties and terrors, some fantastic some remembered.  The light was all wrong for sunset. Sitting up slowly, she tried to work some of the saw-dust flavor from her mouth and finger combed her hair to some semblance of a style. Her shoulders pop-ed in ways they hadn't since basic training.

// Ow… // Feeling marginally more alive, she checked the other side of the bed, but there was only a little dent in the pillow where the boy should have been.

// Oh lord. Where did you get to child? // 

Some thoughtful person had left a glass of water on the stool by the bed. Drinking it down thirstily, she finally put enough clues together to remember both where she was, and what seemed so wrong about the view from the window. Instead of dusk, she was seeing the bright, clear view of mid-morning.

// Holy Hell. I slept right through the night? Agent Riot will kill me if I get us caught because of my incompetence. //

It was a harsh way to come fully awake, but it was very effective. Slamming back the last of the water, she stepped into her boots and headed down stairs. Joshua was thankfully seated in easy reach at the bar. Someone seemed to have taken him in hand. His face and hair looked freshly washed. The soiled finery from the day before had been replaced with a more sturdy outfit topped off by a little leather hat. He looked like a little fisherman as he seriously applied himself to his bowl of porridge.

"Good morning!" The cheerful call caught her by surprise. She had been too caught up in making sure the area was free of armed men to notice the cheery woman bustling around. The room was fairly deserted so Callo settled her self next to the child with a sigh.

"Hello. I'm sorry for sleeping so long. Is Mister Dekter…"

"Mister…? Oh lordie, no need to be so polite. He's just Dekter, or Old Dek, or 'crazy old coot'… no need for any 'Mister'…" The woman grinned at her lost expression. "Sit down, I'll scare you up something to eat… and then perhaps you'd consider a change of clothes?"

The inquisitor looked down at the remains of her leather armor. Her stockings had definitely seen better days. "Look a sight, do I?"

"Well it could be worse, but you have to admit. You /look/… a little different from other people in the village… and if you want to sort of…"

"…blend in?" Callo noted the woman's relieved smile, and copied it. "By all means, if you can spare a bucket of water, a little soap, and an old dress… I'd be eternally grateful." The curly-haired woman chuckled her way back to the kitchen. Tired, the knight slouched forward until she could rest her head on the countertop. She peered over at her young friend only to watch bemused as he licked the last of the oats off his spoon and returned her stare.

"Food's good, huh?"

"It's all right."

"Were you awake long?"

"No."

She sighed and tried to ask a more involved question. "Did anyone say anything about a boat for us?"

"No." This time Joshua stopped in thought. "But Dekter has found one. It came in this morning. He's speaking with the captain now… It's called the Abileen."

"Enough. Hush now before someone hears you." Callo felt a chill at how easily the child could simply pluck answers from the air.

// Maybe he sees things from afar, like John did… Or maybe like Sydney, he /hears/… can he hear me? // If he could, he made no sign. As if some internal lever had been thrown, he had returned to being a normal child, peering into his empty bowl with a rather mournful expression.

"Still hungry?" She gave in to the urge to pat the child on the head. It didn't seem so strange to be a little maternal with the boy. He was too serious. She wasn't any sort of expert on children. There had never been the time. Study and law and training for physical duties had filled most of her youth and all of the past five years. Husbands and children were for less motivated women.

// And here I am at the ripe age of twenty-three… an old maid with a child, and not a clue what to do with him… but still he should smile more… children smile a lot in general… don't they? // She nodded in thanks as her own late-breakfast was served.

// Then again, most children don't lose their families all in one day. It's a wonder he isn't crying his eyes out. //

She still felt a little guilty, logical or no, for not at least attempting to return the child to his father. Callo shook her head. The risk was simply too great. Besides, the Duke had obviously /planned/ that the boy should be taken away… it wouldn't do to defy the old patriarch's dying wishes by showing up at his door.

// With half the church nipping at my heels. No thank you. Riot was right. // She caught herself, startled that she still couldn't shake the habit of calling the man by his last name. 

// What an unfriendly fellow he was… so wrapped up in himself… pushing everyone and everything away… He and Sydney deserve each other… The only question is whom will drive the other mad first? //

"Callo…?"

She blinked, torn from her mechanical shoveling of food into her mouth by the light poke on her shoulder. "Hmmm?" She blinked at the boy.

"Where are we going?"

"Spain."  Joshua's terse speech patterns were far too easy to slip into. She mentally smacked herself. "Maybe even as far as England, I don't quite know yet. Maybe we'll give Spain a try and see if we like it."

"What is Spain like?" The innocent question caught her unawares.

"You know, I have no idea. Like /here/ I suppose… but hotter and with more sun." She prodded the last of her meal thoughtfully. "I once met a consul from Spain… he was as dark as peasant's bread and had the whitest teeth you ever saw. He was a nice enough fellow."

"Oh."

"We'll have to teach you to speak like they do… it'll be good for your education to have a second language…"

// Oh lord, I'll have to educate him too… reading, writing, numbers… maybe he'll fancy the law… what the hell do I know of teaching children to read…?! // The woman rubbed her forehead to keep the headache at bay. It would sort itself out somehow. There was hardly time to worry about it now.

When the door banged open to admit the old barkeeper and his guest, she made certain to act surprised at his good news.

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 The Abileen was a handsome enough little ship, all smooth wood and carefully polished fixtures. Her crew was mostly of the sturdy and silent type. It was for the best since their distance helped her maintain her 'role' while she was still getting used to it. Not that she needed any help for the first three days. Callo could play the part of 'unhappy widow' with remarkable ease with the aid of the seasickness that wouldn't leave her be. By the dawn of her fourth day aboard, even the surly boson doffed his cap and smiled shyly when she stumbled out on deck and took her first non-queasy breath of sea air.

"Thank the lord that is over…" She sighed and almost smiled, forgetting herself briefly in the contentment of a well-behaved stomach. The knight had never been so sick in her life.

"Glad to see you up and about, Madame." She blinked at the comment, and collected herself into what she supposed was how a grateful widow should look.

"Thank you… My son…?"

"Forward, Madame, the captain is keeping an eye on him…"

"Then I am in his debt." No need to fake a slow step or pale complexion, she patted her scarf to make sure she was all prim-propriety as she propelled herself along the railing.

"Madame Hardin! It is a pleasure to see you up and about. You look… better…?"

She spared a small smile for the captain. The man had certainly earned whatever kindness she could afford him. He had given over his cabin for her and her son's passage. The ship hadn't been large enough to afford a second private room. Captain Dollet also possessed a sort of permanent good cheer, which was doubly pleasant when compared to her previous companions in arms.

Callo spared a small prayer of thanks to the solitude-loving Riskbreaker. He may have been ill socialized, but his horde of treasure -- if well guarded -- would see them through many a tight time.

"I have come to thank you most humbly for looking after my child, captain. It must have been tedious for you to mind him while I was ill."

He fumbled a moment and then pulled off his hat as well. She privately made note of the behavior and promised herself to test it again on another day. "Was no trouble at all Madame. He's a good lad."

"He misses his father…"

"I am sorry for your loss… Sir Hardin… he was a well-liked man."

Callo resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at the remark. "You knew my… husband?" Her brain was quicker to absorb some lies than others. Anyone hearing her hesitancy would probably blame her recent illness. The tanned sailor certainly made no sign that he noticed.

"I knew his father better. An excellent man. I don't recall hearing that the son had married… but he traveled so much…"

"Aye, he met me in the capital when he was fighting for his country."

// Well… we met east of here anyway… and Lea Monde was /once/ a capital… and he did die in a fight… //

"I can see why he was taken with you, Madame. Your pardon, that was impolitic to say to someone so recently bereaved."

The dark-haired woman bit down on her smile, acknowledging that the man, indeed /every man on the ship/ was flirting with her. It was all very proper and middle-class… but it was /definitely/ flirting. She stored the idea away for later. It could be a useful tool if it came to that. A young and moneyed knight's widow was no mean catch after all.

"You are too kind, Captain."  A child's leather cap caught her eye.

"J-" She caught herself. "John! Come here now. Let me see that you're still all in one piece."  Proving that children were always natural liars, the boy didn't hesitate in looking up from playing with the nets and trotting to her side.

"Feeling better, mother?"

"Yes dear. I hope you've been keeping out of the way…"

"He's been a positive angel, Madame. And lucky too! The fish seem to favor him." Another hat was respectfully tugged off, the first-mate obviously using the child as an excuse to introduce himself. She bit her cheek to keep from laughing and smiled formally at the rest of the crew.

// Congratulations… you've gone from spinster… to widow… with none of the stressful in between of getting married… I don't know whether this is tragic, or comical. //

She smoothed her cloak around her, and nodded politely as she shown various workings of the ship. There were worse things to be, she finally decided, then a respectable widow on the way to visit distant relations. Her new 'son' returned to quietly playing with some seashells as the boat slid along the coast. Callo tucked her hands into her sleeves, putting aside what she left behind her for once and for all.  She had been given the opportunity to do whatever she wanted now. It was only a matter of learning what that was. 

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Note: So for a while I sat on this thinking I'd find a longer story for it… and I still might, but for now it's officially part of 'Fragments' because I like it just fine as it is.

--Lunar.