Author's Note: Welcome new readers, its always good to hear feedback! Your comments have helped me revise a bit, and the previous chapters have been somewhat altered. Not significantly, but I've evened out the gaps in the preludes, and tightened some holes in the storyline. I've also corrected some spelling and grammar, but if you see any gross discrepancies I'd welcome revisions. (note to players in this game: revisions do NOT mean "hey my character wasn't that much of a pansy and/or stuck-up snark. Some things have to be adjusted for the benefit of the story, but if you ask around you might find that despite your intentions, your PC was, in fact, a pansy and/or snark) :-)
Constant disclaimer: Sir's rampant homophobia has been toned down dramatically from how it was originally played, the reason being that some things are funnier coming from a large grinning man with a Hello Kitty backpack than they are in print.
THE SAGA OF BOY: BOOK ONE
Chapter 8 – Fire From the Sky
When the trail was less than a week old, he became less dependent on others' sightings, and more dependent on the magical brooch that allowed him to track members of his species. The steps were faint, but he could still make them out in the dust of the road, more clearly when he left the road to camp. . By now he was close to scenting the boy on the wind itself, and continued along the trail as fast as his horse could carry him.
He crested the hills over a nameless town and surveyed the devastation impassively. The burned out husks of houses and temples were all that remained in large portions of the city. He followed the trail to the Inn, but the wary looks people gave him as he passed were enough to tell him that talk here would be expensive. Nathanial's footsteps ended and much fresher tracks began, this time on horseback. Several others rode alongside him, and hoping his brother had not fallen into bad company he bypassed the Inn and hastened along the trail.
The trees on either side closed in as they rode, until they were threading in between the trunks on the last faint suspicion of a path. Leshar squealed hysterically as he rode into another spider web. The web wrapped itself across his face, clinging to his hair and clothing.
"Ramses! Is this even a road? Why don't we turn back?"
Ramses reined in his horse and turned to look back at him.
"It was a road once. And it would not have been built if it did not lead somewhere. We're much less likely to be found by Khe...the people hunting Whisper in the wilderness than we are in a town. Besides," he added before Leshar could pick up on the substitution, "you can see a break in the trees ahead."
They could see the sunlight streaming through the canopy at a distance, beckoning them from the gloom. When they finally stepped into the open they were confronted with a sheer cliff face only yards from the edge of the woods.
"Not a cliff, a wall!" Nathanial thought to himself as his eyes picked out the faint outline of mortar lines beneath the moss. The wall loomed twenty feet or more into the sky, with a slight concavity that made it seem to threaten anyone approaching. Ramses dismounted when they reached it and began tugging gently at the vegetation clinging to the rock. He cleared enough to trace a block of cut stone, still solid despite the crumbling mortar holding it in place. He stepped back and surveyed the height and breadth of it.
"Do you think someone should try to climb it?" Leshar asked with a deferential sweetness.
Ramses nodded thoughtfully and all eyes turned to Leto, who took a moment to notice. He glanced around warily at everyone's expectant faces.
"What, me?"
He did find cracks in the mortar to fit his slender fingers and toes. He tied his boots together by the laces and tossed them to Nathanial before making his way steadily up the stonework. Nathanial watched his progress with some concern, but Leto climbed like a determined spider and made it look almost easy. His foot did finally slip as his fingers wrapped over the upper edge of the wall, and Whisper gave a hissing intake of breath as the monk's legs dangled freely above their heads. His body disappeared inch by inch over the top as he hauled himself up by his fingertips. Only when he was safely up did Nathanial finally blink. The party breathed easier and waited for word from the top. When it didn't come immediately Ramses grew impatient and shouted up to Leto.
"Well?"
An outraged head popped into view over the edge.
"Can't a man catch his breath for two seconds?"
Ramses simply stared impatiently upwards, as if he could grow wings on the strength of sheer will. Leto's head disappeared again, but the noise of his grumbling reached them on the ground.
There were several anxious moments of silence before the party grew impatient, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the monk. Nathanial nearly jumped out of his skin when a shriek tore the silence of the landscape, startling flocks of birds into the air in black clouds. A dark shadow seemed to leap down among them from the top of the wall where Leto had been only moments before. It moved so quickly that only when it struck earth did it seem anything more than a trick of the light. The figure landed in a crouch near Whisper's horse, which panicked and reared under her. She managed to keep to the saddle but her horse bolted nearly twenty feet along the wall before she could bring it back under control. Behind her, Leto straightened from his crouch with a grin struggling to conquer his face. He leaned casually against a tree and made a show of examining his fingernails for dirt.
"That's an excitable critter you've got there, Whisper. You know, if you can't keep it under control you might consider walking."
Whisper flushed with rage and drew her sword. She spurred her horse directly at Leto with murder flashing in her eyes. Ramses leaned out of the saddle as she passed and deftly caught her horse's reins, pulling them both to a halt. Whisper turned her glare onto Ramses, who was already directing a stern tirade at Leto.
"That was entirely uncalled for, and dangerous besides. Either of you could have been hurt."
Leto seemed to consider his words seriously for a moment, and then nodded gravely.
"You're right. Its unfortunate that it was funny enough to justify such risks, isn't it?"
The sound that escaped from Whisper's throat was very nearly a growl. Ramses took a tighter hold on her reins; exasperation showed in every line of his face.
"Leto, just apologize so that we can all be on our way. At this rate, we don't need anyone after us; we're already at each others' throats all the time, doing their work for them."
The monk shrugged philosophically and a wicked gleam entered his eye as he stepped up to Whisper. He gave a sweeping, courtly bow with as many absurd flourishes as he could muster.
"M'lady, please accept my most humble apologies for the cruel trick I played, and for any negative impact it may have had on your delicate sensibilities."
If she had offered her hand it would have been loudly and wetly kissed, but the thought never crossed her mind. She knew she was being mocked but also that she couldn't object to an apology without looking the fool. She gave a curt nod of acceptance with pursed lips and clenched teeth, not trusting herself to speak.
Ramses studied her face for a moment before cautiously releasing her horse's reins.
"All right then, what did you see up there Leto?"
"Well it's hard to believe out here in all this nothing, but there's a castle beyond this wall. Rather a large one at that."
"Is there a way in?"
"No Ramses, they built a huge castle in the middle of nowhere without a way in."
Ramses looked surprised, and stared appraisingly at the top of the wall.
"Well we could tether the horses and climb, but I don't like to leave the horses unguarded."
Leto arched one eyebrow at Ramses, and then groaned dramatically.
"What is it about a Paladin that just sucks the fun right out of sarcasm? The gate is around on the east wall."
Ramses gave him a level stare, and for a moment Nathanial caught the faintest gleam of humor lurking about his eyes. He suddenly wondered if Ramses wasn't baiting the odd little monk by deliberately misconstruing his jokes.
"Lead on then, Leto."
Whisper managed to avoid both Leto and Leshar by straying just far enough behind the party to discourage conversation. They all picked their way carefully along between the forest and the wall, stumbling through the heavy brush and over the broken bits of masonry that may once have been a road. The castle gate could only be distinguished from the rest of the wall by its height, towering nearly thirty feet above the top of the perimeter wall. It took Sir, Ramses and Whisper nearly an hour to cut a path through the tangled mass of vines that had grown undisturbed for so long into and over the entryway. Muttered curses split the air as the fibrous plants dulled their blades and covered them with impossibly sticky sap. Nathanial felt somewhat guilty at his inability to help, but after watching Whisper drop back for a breather covered in sweat, scratches and congealing sap, he quietly thanked the stars that he'd never purchased a sword. At least they no longer had to listen to Leshar's complaints of boredom; Whisper's half-threatening offer to put him to work on the vines silenced him as if by magic. Sir was the one who broke through first, and his victory whoop brought them all to their feet in alarm with half-drawn weapons.
"This place was well built," Ramses said approvingly as they rode slowly through the ancient courtyard. "It could be restored with time and effort."
"Why would anyone want to?" asked Whisper with an eyebrow arching further as they past the remains of a building with a lone wall tentatively clinging to the old foundations.
"Why would they not? A stronghold of this size and quality would more than pay for its reconstruction."
He had a proprietary gleam in his eye, and as he looked around him his mind was busy setting stone and mortar, thatching rooftops, and watching the ghosts of future generations make themselves at home.
"Oi!" called Sir, "lewkit, s'atuhtempool?"
Ramses was yanked back to the present as he looked to where Sir's outstretched finger pointed. He sucked in his breath and looked as if his excitement would suddenly burst from his eyes. A small chapel sat a short ways from the other buildings, remarkably preserved. The wooden roof had long rotted down to the rafters, but the intricate stained glass portraits of the windows were still intact and recognizable as corollaries to the modern Saints of the Kaldeshian religion. Ramses dismounted quickly with a whispered invocation to Kalidine. He looped his horse's reins over the narrow trunk of a fallen tree and strode up the temple steps. Within moments, the others heard the sound of prayer from inside.
"Well then," Leto grunted as he found a soft patch of grass in the sun, "We may as well have a sit then. I doubt we'll see him before an hour's up."
With great satisfaction the monk selected a greet shoot from a scattering of wild barley, plucked it from the ground and stuck it between his front teeth. He pulled his headband down over his eyes and lay back on the grass with every sign of blissful luxury.
"An hour!?" exclaimed Whisper, outraged, "we're supposed to sit around out here for an hour while he prays?"
Leto simply nodded. Whisper dismounted and began to pace with great agitation. She shot a dirty look in the direction of the temple each time she passed, and they could hear baleful mutterings under her breath. Nathanial took a few moments to stretch his legs after the long ride before relaxing near Leto. The monk cracked one eye open and frowned in Whisper's direction.
"It's a good thing I can relax anywhere, her pacing's enough to drive anyone batty."
His frown turned to a beatific smile and Nathanial cocked his head to see where he was looking. Hooch had decided to investigate Whisper's strange actions, and was pacing joyfully along two steps behind her. She hadn't seen him yet, and the sight of her glowering agitation and Hooch's mad, empty headed joy stalking her steps was enough to make Nathanial snort with laughter before he could suppress it. Leto elbowed him in a hint to assume a neutral expression before she turned back towards them, but he was a moment too late. Nathanial's laughter bubbled up against his every force of will under her stern gaze. But the crash of broken glass came in time to keep her from speaking.
Nathanial and Leto sat up in time to see Sir William carefully weigh another stone from the ground. One of the intricate glass windows was in pieces, and shouts of outrage came clearly from inside. Sir William wound up and threw a second stone. It took the head of a smiling saint neatly from his shoulders in the second window. They all heard a gargling cry from within the building and Ramses appeared like a wraith in the doorway, trembling with rage. He lifted his sword to point at Sir William.
"Halt this sacrilege!" He nearly shrieked.
"Wyazdatay? Whatchoogoin'tadootastoopme?"
Ramses eyes narrowed.
"Not I, but may Kalidine himself strike you down if you throw one more rock at this temple!"
"Cor! YewpahnzeehooleyBuouy,tinkyoorgudkin'urtme."
He selected another prime throwing rock, nicely rounded against his palm. He considered the remaining windows carefully. St. Trouah was the obvious choice, being the god of mercy, forgiveness, and other pacifist traits despised by Sir William. He took careful aim.
"Last warning Merriweather!" Ramses called in an icy tone from the doorway, gripping his sword.
Sir William paused with his arm back to throw and looked at Ramses. With a snort of dismissal he wound up and fired. Discordant tones of broken glass echoed in the silence between them. Nathanial wondered for a moment if his ears were ringing when the sound did not stop. A single discordant note resolved into an unearthly chord, and a soft glow lit the interior of the temple. Sir peered curiously at it and took a step closer to the windows he'd broken.
"Wot da...."
He was interrupted by an explosion of glass as the stone he'd just thrown shot back through the window and headed straight for him. Perhaps it was instinct that caused him to put his hand out to catch it; certainly if he'd know the speed the stone was traveling he would have jumped in the other direction. The stone, slightly smoking, fell to the lawn some distance away and Sir William was left with a neatly bored hole through the center of his palm. He regarded it in silent shock for the span of several heartbeats before the wound began to trickle, and then spurt.
"Foooooook!" Sir screamed, waving his hand wildly in the air and sending a spray of bright arterial blood over the others. Leshar shrieked in protest as his robe became spattered with it and began berating Sir with insults and curses. Leto and Nathanial exchanged glances and inched further away from the scene, in case the first two stones thrown were forthcoming as well. Whisper moved in quickly towards Sir, who continued to bellow and evade Whisper's attempts to get a hold on his hand. Ramses surveyed the scene smugly, and with what may have been a brief flicker of enjoyment before he began walking towards Sir, removing his gauntlets as he walked.
"Hold still you silly man," shouted Whisper, "I can't stop the bleeding with you waving it around!"
Ramses stepped up behind them and caught Sir neatly by the wrist of the injured hand. The look on his face was nearly one of grim satisfaction when he gripped the wounded hand as if in greeting. Sir made a sound very much like "Gawruk" as Ramses squeezed gently and began muttering. A soft glow encompassed the clasped hands, and when Ramses pulled his away, the bleeding had stopped.
Sir looked suspiciously at Ramses before attempting to flex the hand. There had been too much missing flesh to heal completely and a small gap remained. The fingers moved slowly and stiffly, and the palm would no longer fold completely. He examined it in disbelief and thrust it under Ramses' nose as if it were a broken toy.
"Wot de 'ell du'ah dew now?" he demanded in outrage, "dewsumptin! It won'werk!"
"I'm sorry," replied Ramses, and managed to actually look as if he were, "I've done all I can do. If Kalidine wished it to be differently, he would not have returned the stone to you in the first place. However..."
Ramses pulled his gauntlets from his belt and looked at them reluctantly.
"These are magically enchanted to allow you some dexterity in battle. Until we can find a better solution, they are yours. Hopefully they will help to even out your newfound shortcomings."
"What about this!?" shrieked a voice behind them. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to remove blood from this fabric!?"
Nathanial squinted at Leshar.
"How do you even know there IS blood on the fabric, it all blends in anyhow, one more color won't make a difference."
Leshar turned his murderous glare from Sir William to Nathanial.
"How dare you, of course it makes a difference! Every color on this robe is carefully calibrated against the colors beside it. This streak of nastiness throws off the entire scheme!"
Leto was standing close enough that only Boy heard his next comment.
"So it's gone from being awful to bloody awful. Not much of a leap."
Nathanial snorted despite himself. He managed to recover a straight face, but not before Leshar's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Are you mocking me, boy?"
All impetus to laugh left him at the venomous disdain Leshar put into the word "boy" and Nathanial drew himself up.
"My name, Leshar, is Nathanial."
Leshar smiled at the success of his barb, and set to dig it deeper.
"Of course it is, Boy. How silly of me to forget."
Nathanial felt a dark rage rise inside him and reached for his Morningstar. He felt a stirring at the back of his mind. Ramses stepped between them.
"There's no point to this bickering. Can we just keep moving? We can camp inside the main fortress, it seems the sturdiest building left, and will keep the rain and dew from us."
"Of course Ramses," Leshar purred in his most amiable tone without removing his dark gaze from Nathanial, "I'm dying to continue our exploration of this fascinating place!"
His eyes were not quite sane, but the venom in them was obvious. Nathanial took it as the warning it was and despite his resolve not to look away first, a shiver crept up his spine. The corners of Leshar's mouth twitched briefly upward, and though Leshar had been the first to break the gaze Nathanial still felt as if he'd lost the brief standoff.