Knight Errant

Chapter 1 Personal guard sought for travel. Professional required. Ten thousand gold. Half at hire and half upon completion. Enquire with Barkeep at Star Rise Inn. Einith Redstone grimaced at the small paper pinned to the wall along with all the rest of the requests for employees. He hated to travel. Constantly on the move, dirt everywhere instead of beloved stone under his feet, weary days upon days of aches and soreness. But the board had nothing else that pertained to his skill set. The money was a damned sight better than what could normally be had and he needed the work. A muttered curse to the Stone Born passed his lips without thought, but he snatched the advert off the board anyway. And who knew? This might be a quick jaunt with some over paranoid Lord to Celzauni, right over the Celnaha River. Sure, crossing the swift ribbon of Celnaha at any point was a tricky prospect, but not so much at Celzauni. They would have to cut through the very western tip of the forest. Imminently doable. Suddenly in a much better mood about this ridiculous possibility of travel, Einith turned away from the board and out into the bustle of the open air market. It was a beautiful day, overcast with a warm spring breeze. It reminded him of the halls of his birth. He missed it sometimes, Terkila, the only dwarven city in the Hinanin Mountains. It sat on the edge of Osaire, its foothills made up part of the shoreline of the Vensalin Ocean. Einith especially missed his view of the four Fire Stars from the top of his mountain range. The distant volcanoes glowed and sparkled in the darkest part of night. Possibly, after this job, he would return home for a fortnight or so. No reason not to. He shrugged his small pack into a more comfortable position on his shoulders and wandered into the crowd of baying merchants and twittering customers. It was a frantic dance to move through the crowd, most at least a head taller than he was. Such was his life, to walk a world where he was no taller than a human child not quite grown to adulthood. No one squashed him to death, miraculously, and he broke through the press of beings to gulp down a breath of fresh air once he was out of the market. Mibatli’s cobblestone streets were laid out in a logical grid pattern that made Star Rise was easy to find. A kind local pointed him in the right direction, which helped a great deal. Experience had taught him that most people were not nearly so helpful unless there was something in it for the helper, but it was nice to be surprised by the anomalous ones that offered a kind hand with no expectation of compensation. His Gran would snort at his cynicism and then whap him with a cooking spoon if she ever knew. Gran Athe taught him better than that. There is absolute good in the world, Ein, she would say. Sometimes it’s not evident, but never doubt the goodness in all those around you. If he were home, Einith would smile for her and agree, and then scowl when she shortened his name. The meeting place was four streets from the market on the left, the sign hung into the walkway small, but distinctive. Star Rise Inn was written in plain block letters, with automatically recognized mage stars in all six colors spread in an arc above the words. Not fancy. Einith liked that. Almost as busy as the market, as far as he could tell when he pushed open the sun bleached door of the large, red brick tavern. A mind-bending variety of people laughed and chattered and fluttered in the smoky front area like little green moths found around his mountain home. There was no fire in the gargantuan hearth to add light to the din, but that was fine. It was too warm in the late spring for a fire anyway and he didn’t need it to see. The actual bar itself was tucked far to the right side of the building. Einith wove himself between long tables and short, spun around taller beings and nudged the others gently out of his way. A light sheen of sweat clung to his skin by the time he reached the massive wooden behemoth. Relief washed over him. While absolutely imposing, the bar was of a height that he could easily see over the top. That wasn’t always the case. Some beings were so inconsiderate of others. He nudged into a space between two ethereal young elves, four Mage stars on their foreheads proclaimed them novices, and hopped up on an open stool. There was only one good way to make himself known to the woman darting to and fro behind the bar. His massive fist crashed to the bar top in a hollow boom loud enough to wake the dead. “Barkeep!” The novices jumped, and then giggled at his roar. Silly children, Einith thought, but grinned all the same for their sake. No reason to let them think him surly, nor the woman that hustled over to him like her skirts were on fire. “Yes?” The barkeep addressed him sweetly, but could not hide her annoyance at his antics. “Hello,” he tried at a softer tone. “I’m here for the guard position this advert specified.” He fished out the paper and flinched just a little when the barkeep ripped it out of his hands. Maybe she would have been friendlier if he hadn’t made such a spectacle of himself. That diamond was already shattered. She scowled at the parchment and then shifted that look at him. Without a word, she stabbed a finger in the direction of the actual Inn part, a short hallway that split the establishment into front and back. Off she flounced after that. Einith scowled. How deeply unhelpful. Another trek across the crowded room, paper firmly in hand, found Einith face to chest with a shifter etched with scales at the end of the hall. The faint scent of sulphur gave the being away as a dragon, and Einith stepped back so fast that he stumbled over his own feet. Luck kept him upright, but he would have taken the broken backside if it meant the dragon would not take offense. Prickly creatures. Vicious to boot. “Pardon, your Greatness.” It was a supreme effort to bring his naturally bellicose voice into a proper submissive tone, but the whirlwind that deigned to wear human skin just smiled down at Einith, gray eyes too sharp. Einith swallowed tight around the lump of unease in his throat and took that disarming smile as an invitation to continue. “The lady tending the bar pointed me in this direction. I’m looking for the man who wants a guard.” Those gray eyes darted from his face to his fist clenched around the advert. Einith didn’t ask, just snapped the paper up at once. The shifter took it with a smoky snort, and then directed him along the wall in silence to a small round table with a hunched figure stiff in a chair. The face and body were covered in a dark cowl robe, maybe brown or gray. Hard to tell in the gloom that enclosed the back wall of the Inn. At first glance, Einith was sure the dragon was having one over on him because he would stake his meager bit of coin that the person at the table was dead. Amused eyes locked on him from beneath the hood though, and a wrinkled old hand rose to wave him to a seat. The old man stared at him for a disconcertingly long time. Einith shifted in the chair he had claimed and twisted his fingers together under the tabletop, lost under the look that bored into him. It clogged the words in his throat as surely as black coal dust did. This was ridiculous, he knew it. Einith was never cowed to silence, not even by his imposing older brother. Why did he allow the frail being across from him to silence him? A sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze made Einith straighten unconsciously. The sweet sound came from directly behind him, and when his companion’s eyes lifted to a spot over his right shoulder, Einith turned. Elven ears, delicate spires that peeked from a straight curtain of snow white hair, was the very first part of the stranger that drew his eyes. There were none of the standard elaborate decorations on the ear tips or in the glossy white mane to give status, but his eyes, indigo and shadowed in an average elven face, told Einith there was ancient blood in this elf. Only the oldest elven bloodlines, stretching back to the Gods’ construction of the world, had eyes the color of dawn before the first light. Everything about this stranger was wiry and sun kissed though short for his kind, except for those eyes. It was more difficult for Einith to stop his frank assessment of such a beautiful creature, but a croaky cough from the old man that shared his table brought his mind back to his task. The stranger dropped with a relieved sigh into the chair on Einith’s left and then inclined his head in greeting, snow briefly obscuring his face and eyes. “I hope I am not late, Archmage.” Einith whipped his head around and stared at the old man as he removed the hood from his face. Weathered and faded blue eyes glared at the elf. Fourteen green stars across his brow were vibrant as any Einith had seen on a younger mage. This being was human, which was clear from the lack of acicular ears and his age, iron gray hair pulled back in an intricate net of traditional dwarven marriage braids. “Where is your mate?” Einith demanded, low enough not to draw attention, if only barely. It made him itch to meet a dwarf’s Heartstone without the dwarf present. Unseemly. And this human Heartstone was an Archmage? Whoever his kindred was, they were a fool to allow such a treasure out of their sight. In the company of an unknown dwarf, no less! “Why do you think I need a guard and a guide?” A satisfied grin flashed after the old mage said that. “We have to travel into the heart of the Divide and I will pay handsomely for your assistance.” “Your mate is in need of rescue?” The elf’s voice was a sweet note drawn from a flawless crystal flute. Einith spared a glance at him and choked on a laugh at the perplexed frown. Why else would a mage go into those inhospitable mountains? The dragons forbade all other creatures into their ancestral home of Eyrie. Dwarven mines held sparse populations to be sure, but were just as insular as the dragons. “One could say that,” the old man answered. “Something like that?” Einith reiterated. This Archmage seemed to be avoiding the question. “Explain yourself.” “Manners,” came the murmured admonishment from the beauty beside him. “There is a good reason for all of this vagueness, I’m sure.” “Quite right,” the old man acknowledged. “I first need to know if you will hire on for this venture. It might be very dangerous, but worth it.” Einith and the unknown elf exchanged a puzzled glance. No, it was not some too rich lordling with a short distance to go, but that much gold was more than worth it. And half before they even left! The Archmage dropped a heavy canvas pouch on the table in front of Einith with a blank face. “So you may inspect the coin.” That offer immediately assuaged any suspicions Einith might have had. No one had fooled a dwarf with fake coin to date, even a mage, and those that tried invariably found themselves at the business end of a mattock. He waved away the offer. “I do have a question,” the beauty next to him chimed in. “Why hire out for strangers on such a task? I think kin would be far more helpful and less likely to leave you in a lurch if your quest proves extremely difficult.” “Ah, yes.” The old man wrinkled his beaky nose and scowled. “What you say is true, and that’s exactly why I do not want the few of our remaining friends to go with me.” Slowly, the man leaned forward, stodgy and pained with age. “They are loyal unto death and our true friends are so few in number, it would be sorrow beyond counting to lose even one to this mad attempt to rescue my mate. Besides, I will only require your services until you feel the cost is no longer justifiable. Loyalty bought with gold is less likely to end in your deaths.” “Imminently logical.” That tinkling laugh danced around the table and Einith couldn’t help his grin in response. “So who will we have to rescue your beloved from?” “No one. His jailor is long since turned to dust in the bowels on this world.” Einith frowned at the peculiar look that crossed the old man’s face. On the other hand, it wasn’t his business what happened to cause it. More practical concerns needed to be address. “If he is not guarded, why has he not come home to you yet?” “Magical sleep,” the elf pointed out. “Or something close to it. An easy bit of magic that almost all mages can manage.” “Exactly so.” The Archmage shifted back on his chair. “Will you assist me?” “Yes.” An easy job, even if the distance was a little daunting. Einith pulled his little belt knife from its sheath and placed it on the table between them, and then offered his hand. “A bargain struck.” The old man smiled and Einith could see the curiousness on the elf’s face from the corner of his eye. A wrinkled hand slid into his own, nearly of a size. A firm squeeze was given in the ancient dwarven practice of sealing a contract, instead of that ridiculous shaking that humans were so fond of. “A bargain accepted.” “Good.” Einith put his knife away. “I am Einith Redstone of Terkila Hinanin.” Einith looked over to the elf who watched his employer with a thoughtful silence. Finally, he extended his whole arm to the Archmage with a warm smile. “I lend my strength to you.” “I accept with a grateful heart.” The human reached across the table and pressed the entire length of his arm to the elf’s and gripped it tightly. “Tae’liamath of Iestut.” He laughed at the gob smacked look Einith was sure he sported. “Tae is satisfactory, if my whole name is too much.” It was, but Einith would rather be switched than admit it. He had his pride. “Wonderfully met, the both of you.” The human produced another pouch, identical to the first if Einith had to judge, and placed it smartly in front of Tae. “I am Lasra. Half your pay up front, as agreed.” Tae casually secreted his away into his plain travel pack that hung from one shoulder and Einith tied his to his wide belt. Thieves may notice his mattock was not with him, most weapons forbidden within Mibatli’s boundaries, but only fools would try their luck. Lasra grinned and folded his hands in front of him on the table. “Now then, shall I give you a few details?” “Such as?” Tae prompted. “I have already told you our destination is in the Divide. We must trek through Alahanai to reach the area we need to be in.” Lasra’s mouth flattened out in thought. “We will meet two marks before dawn tomorrow. Since I am funding this rescue attempt, you should only gather whatever personal items you need and find me on the northern road at the edge of town.” That was more of a surprise than any other part of the meeting. Most employers expected one to spend out of pocket or to deduct costs after the contract was completed. “Sounds reasonable,” Tae said. “More than, Archmage,” Einith echoed. That scythe of a nose wrinkled again and Einith imagined that on Lasra at a younger age, his nose would have been considered aristocratic. It made Einith smile. Lasra’s obvious distaste deepened. “Please, I am just Lasra. Archmage is a title I left in the dust a few turns of the world ago.” As if Einith could show such disrespect to one as powerful as this human. And a Heartstone, at that. If his formal title made him uncomfortable, however, maybe he could think of something else. Archmage Lasra motioned for them to go with a wave. “See you both in no time at all.” Tae rose to his feet as graceful as a swift river and touched the tips of his remarkably sturdy hands to his forehead. “By your leave.” A short bow was all Einith had to offer the human and he was off in Tae’s serpentine wake. He had no idea what he would do once out of the tavern. The minutes needed to pack up his belongings left him too much time to sit and solidify into stone if he wasn’t careful. A hand fell to his shoulder as soon as he stepped out of the raucous Inn and into the sunshine. He refused to startle, but he tensed all the same until he looked to his side and met Tae’s eyes. Must have been waiting, if the way Tae leaned with his back against the brickwork indicated anything. “Why did you do that?” Tae asked. Einith frowned up at him. “Do what?” Tae dropped his hand only to flutter it back at the heavy door behind Einith. “Lay a blade between when you and the Archmage when striking an agreement.” With a chuckle, Einith beckoned the elf into a slow stroll down the broad street toward another of the many public houses that littered the town. Once Tae fell into step with him, Einith gave him the answer. “A long time ago, when the dwarven mine-city of Carore was still just a shallow delving, we dwarves fought over everything.” Einith ruefully shook his head. “Even the smallest arguments over contract stipulations would bring bloodshed.” “Savage,” Tae murmured at his right side. “I find myself surprised there are any dwarves left at all.” “Rumor has it that our blood is hotter than liquid steel.” Einith grinned up at Tae’s chortle. “At length, one of us had the bright idea that everyone should lay our weapons on a table in the center of a room during disputes and negotiation, and shout at each other from opposite sides.” “And as the practice became custom, you dwarves sat closer to the table?” Tae guessed. It was a good one, almost correct. “Well that, certainly. More that we hate to allow anyone an upper hand, so meetings would start with one dwarf a step closer to the table than the other. The other dwarf would notice and take a step forward, yelling the whole time.” Einith chuckled fondly at the thought of his kinfolk. “By the time both parties were at the table, their throats hurt from all the yelling, and too tired from all the stomping!”