All That Glitters...45

Chapter Forty-Five

The party had made significant progress by the time the sun began to set. Having passed through the dusty foothills surrounding the Cloud Peaks, the path had now dipped back south into the forested area south of the river Neng. Kal picked out a forest clearing a short walk from the river as their campsite for the night. One of the rules that Khalid had taught him had been to pick campsites near water whenever possible. Aside from the obvious uses like drinking and cooking, rivers and lakes were also an opportunity to bathe and get the grit of the road out of clothing and armour. And at the very least, it was one less direction to get attacked from.

Everyone was anxious to wash out the dust of the journey. For safety's sake, Kal knew that they'd have to go in pairs. Okay, Viconia and Nalia go together. Yoshimo can...wait, no, he doesn't like him because he's a thief, and Keldorn makes him nervous so...that means I'm with...

Kal sighed aloud. I know I'm supposed to be trying to help him, but I wouldn't mind a few hours without him around. Just a few hours. Or days. Or weeks.

"Right," he said, forcing the words out. "The ladies go first, then Keldorn and Yoshimo. Anomen and I will go last."

---

After about forty minutes, Nalia and Viconia returned.. Keldorn and Yoshimo headed out towards the river, and the remaining four sat down as Kal began to clear a firepit.

"We're about a day and a half out," Kal said. "Nalia, are we about halfway there?"

She nodded. "More or less. At this rate, we'll probably get there, oh, a little after midday, day after next. It was a day and a half or so when I walked this way toward Athkatla."

"You walked all the way to Athkatla?" Anomen said with some surprise.

"Usually I ride, but I couldn't get a horse without the army outside noticing," she said.

"Impressive," Cel said. "Your father must have great confidence in you, to send you to fetch reinforcements alone."

The young noble looked surprised. "What? Oh...well, Daddy didn't send me, exactly. I kind of...left on my own." She was still getting used to the idea of talking to a sword, so she still tended to look at Kal a lot when talking to Cel, instead of addressing her comments to the ruby on Cel's hilt.

"Very brave of you," Kal said, "but if your father wasn't helping you, how did you get out?

"Oh, I do it often enough. I have to know how to sneak out, because Aunty always hates it when I do and always tells the guards not to let me go. So I use an old secret side door."

"Get bored, do you?" Kal asked, recalling another bored noblewoman named Skie back in Baldur's Gate.

"Huh? Bored? No, I do it because I want to help the needy - mostly in the countryside, but when I can get a horse without anyone noticing I go to Athkatla. There's just so many of them, but I do what I can. Aunty always tells me that ‘associating with rabble' is ‘beneath you'." Nalia's expression turned to one that was, if not outright disgust, at least on the severe edge of distaste. "She keeps reminding me how filthy and poor the poor are. Of course they are! That's why they're called the poor. And they'll stay that way until we can get them some money to help them get on their feet. Of course, just throwing money at the problem isn't going to work, but money can be part of a larger plan. I do what I can, but what would really help is greater cooperation from city authorities, especially...."

Kal had already realized that Nalia was a woman of uncommon intelligence. He could tell by the way she talked, words spilling out in bunches, rapidly, clumsily, as her mouth tried to catch up with her brain. In fact, she reminded him - almost heartbreakingly - of Imoen...just a less cheerful version. And Imoen, though she masked it with simpler speech patterns, was one of the smartest people he had ever known, at least as smart as he was and probably even more so.

"Socially, one has to see that the noble classes, such as they are, rely on a solid base of common citizenry to function," Nalia was saying. "So I don't see how Aunty feels that she can call them ‘rabble' and ‘lowborn dirt' when in fact she'd be just as poor as they without them. She does think that they don't matter though; just last year, when the north farms came down with illness, they stopped farming and she had the gall to ask why nothing was happening in the north farms! Aunty thinks that lands just make money all by themselves, it seems, and thinks of the people like tools that always do what she expects, not people, and she's never bothered to learn why and how it works. Typical, of course, she never does...there was that time three years ago when she demanded that the cook make dinner even though there was no firewood - and she said ‘What does wood have to do with it?' In Aunty's world, when she's hungry, servants bring food, and the why and how of it don't even enter into her mind. She's so ignorant, and it's probably why she doesn't understand the concept of a noble's duty to the lower classes. She's never even made an attempt to understand," Nalia continued, smoothly jumping subjects without, Kal surmised, even being aware of doing so.

"So that's where you learned a little bit of the rogue's craft?" Kal said, trying to steer the conversation back on to the long lost original topic.

"Yes. You see, after Aunty figured out what I was doing, which was the ninth or tenth time I'd been sneaking out, she ordered all the doors in the keep locked at all these odd times, so I couldn't get out. She forgot the window, so I got out that way. I knew she'd lock the window the next time, so I found someone in Athkatla who could teach me how to pick a lock or two, among other things - staying hidden, disarming traps - not that I thought Aunty would set a trap, but you never know when that'll be useful...."

Kal sensed she was veering off on a tangent again and interjected quickly. "So...in between all of those visits to the city and countryside, where did you find time for formal magic training? It tends to be kind of time-consuming, from what I can see."

"Oh, that? It didn't last long. My father had me take lessons because I had talent - my mother was a mage, too - but my teacher, Lady Vallirian of the Cowled Wizards, well, she lost patience with me. Quickly. Very quickly. She tried to teach me all sorts of boring magic theory. I didn't pay much attention, but I cast the cantrip she wanted me to do. Anyway, then she gave me a bunch of other spells to cast. Some of them I did all right, some of them didn't really work. She just gave me some more things to try, so I cast a few of them, and I set her robes on fire. Then, I...."

"You set her robes on fire?" Kal interrupted.

"Yeah, but she wasn't mad about that - she had a jug of water handy - I thought she'd brought it over to drink, but apparently getting robes ignited by students is some kind of tradition."

"It is," Kal said, remembering Xan diving into a river with flaming purple robes after one lesson with Imoen. "At least, my sister did the same thing when she was learning magic."

"Really? Well, anyway, that's not what really annoyed her. That came a few lessons later, when she wanted me to learn the spell for reading magic, and told me I wouldn't be able to read any spells beyond basic ones without it. I said I didn't need it, and she told me to stop being impertinent. I told her I could read scrolls just fine and she kinda smirked and handed me this fireball scroll and told me to read it. So I did." Nalia shrugged. "The room was really big - at least that floor of the tower was - and I don't think it would have done more than burn a few rugs and set some books on fire, but Lady Vallirian was experimenting with some really funny things that day and they exploded. That took out most of the wall on that side of the tower, and ruined her experiments, too, and at that point she gave up and said I was unteachable. I don't think I was unteachable, really, but I guess she doesn't have all that much patience with people who blow up her walls. I can understand that, kind of, but she really brought that upon herself. And I really don't think she should be mad, after all, she gave me the scroll and told me to read it."

"So you haven't had that much training," Kal half-asked, before she launched into another digression.

"No, no I never had that much training. Not formally."

"So what spells do you have the ability to cast?"

"Oh...whatever I feel like," Nalia said, not seeming particularly worried about specifics.

"That's quite a vague answer."

Nalia considered it for a moment. "Yes," she agreed. "It is."

Well, what do you say to that? Kal settled on nothing, choosing to build his fire again. Nalia took out her spellbook.

---

"Yoshimo, I was wondering...how long have you been accompanying Kal?" Keldorn asked, breaking the silence. The two of them had been washing in silence for a few minutes, Keldorn rinsing out the padding under his armour and Yoshimo washing the garments he wore beneath the hard leather that was his usual protection.

"Ever since we struggled out of the dungeon of the mad wizard which captured us both," Yoshimo answered. "In all probability, I would have not made it out of that foul laboratory alive if not for his help."

"That, I remember, but I was more concerned about...how much do you know about Viconia?"

"What is it that you wish to know?" Yoshimo asked.

"I just want to know if...if she has, in any way, seemed...other than what she seems with me around," Keldorn said, fumbling for a good way to express what he was trying to ask. "Has she not been...cruel? Is she not...selfish, disdainful of others?" He shamed himself by asking, he knew. But he...he had to know!

Yoshimo looked down at the tunic in his hands, and scrubbed. "I am not, perhaps, as conversant with the rules of your society as I am with mine," he said, quietly. "Yet, I think, it is not...decorous, to speak ill of others so."

Yoshimo's quiet tone was as reproving as a slap in the face. Keldorn flushed, and started to respond, but Yoshimo cut him off.

"However, to answer your question, no. She has been as loyal and as dedicated a companion as any. One must, as they say, make judgements with one's own eyes, from time to time." Yoshimo hadn't even looked up. "It is always easy to believe in abstract evil. To perceive someone or something from afar, and declare that they are evil, unworthy of your consideration, simply something to be destroyed. It saves the trouble of thinking."

Yoshimo wrung out the tunic, and picked up another of his garments, submerging it beneath the clear, faintly greenish, water. He lifted the rough, short-bristled brush, and started scrubbing again. "And who does not leap at the chance not to think, now and again? To Kal, not thinking may be a capital crime, but it has its...positive qualities, as young Anomen certainly knows, even if he is not aware of it. Kalvorin does not know, perhaps because he has no lack of it, but the quality that most appeals to Anomen is assurance. When you do not think, you have all the assurance you need. You do not doubt yourself. Others' words sway you not. You need not spend time and effort to reconsider your decision or invoke your compassion. Because you know you are right - whether you actually are right, or not."

He scrubbed some more. "It is a tempting thing. It is an easy thing to do, which makes it all the more alluring. But how often is the easiest path the correct one?"

Yoshimo put the brush aside and wrung out his clothing again. Then, he turned to look at Keldorn. "That answer...I leave for you."

---

A faint rustling in the trees and the snapping of dry twigs preceded Yoshimo and Keldorn's return to the camp. They were talking, and their voices carried quite clearly ahead of them to the campsite.

"So, Sir Keldorn...tell me," Yoshimo asked. "Do good knights ever find cause to sing bawdy songs and tell ribald tales around a campfire, or is dourness an inarguable tenet of the Order?"

"The Order has many tenets, but dourness is not among them, though I'd not blame you for thinking so. Some knights seem to believe it to be true," Keldorn answered. "There are countless books within our Holy Libraries where bored and dreamy scribes have penned petty blasphemies into the margins. Such is the nature of bored squires assigned to library duty."

"All squires, Sir Keldorn?" Yoshimo said in a jaunty tone.

"Oh, yes. Those libraries, especially the one across the city in the Sceptre District, are great, cavernous edifices...impressive the first time, but hardly popular. I cannot imagine anyone enjoying their time there, reshelving books. To tell the truth, I cannot imagine anyone enjoying their time there at all. When I was a squire, I used to catch up on my sleep while assigned to library duty."

"That is the way of squires, is it not?" Yoshimo said.

"Oh, for certain," Keldorn said. "No knight is perfect, but squires are certainly further from that ideal than full knights. I was no exception. I used to sing a song that was popular among the squires...now how did it go...?" Keldorn thought for a moment, then began to hum a tune. "Yes...that was it...."

"I knew a girl from a distant world,
across the planar deep,
and to her place, to see her face,
across the void, I'd creep.
Though time..."

"...though time," Keldorn repeated, then frowned. "How did the second verse go? Ah, well. It's been so long, I'm surprised I remembered that much."

Yoshimo grinned. "I believe I may know it. Though time went by, and long I tried..." he began.

The line seemed to spark a fragment in Keldorn's memory, and the two completed the song together.

"Though time went by, and long I tried,
to satisfy my lust,
no matter where I touched, 'twas not enough
to please my succubus."

They shared a chuckle before Keldorn went on to ask, "However did you know?" as they walked out of the trees and into the clearing where the rest of the party was.

"Well...I was doing a little theological reading of my own, and I visited the library you described. Found it in the margins...."

Keldorn looked slightly disturbed, but then smiled. "Oh dear, I hope I didn't write that one down for posterity!"

Yoshimo smiled. "Ah, what wondrous legacies crusading knights leave behind."

Keldorn laughed and shook his head. "If I leave a legacy behind, I'd want it to be something more impressive than that!"

Behind Kal, Anomen muttered, "disgraceful", in a voice so soft that only Kal and Viconia heard it. Viconia looked over at Kal and shook her head, just a little, and Kal rolled his eyes. She patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, leaning towards him slightly.

"I suppose this would be a good time for you to learn how to wash quickly," she whispered.

"This is absolutely not funny," he said back.

Her eyes glowed with suppressed mirth. "It depends on your point of view."

---

The walk to the river was proceeding in silence, and seemed like to continue that way unless someone broke it.

Kal sighed again. That's my cue.

"Keldorn seems to have had an interesting experience as a squire," Kal offered brightly.

"It is disgraceful for him to be carrying on like so," Anomen muttered darkly.

Here we go. "Disgraceful how?"

"Perhaps, as one who clearly does not understand the importance of knighthood, you do not understand," Anomen forgave Kal arrogantly. "But to have a senior knight of the Order singing bawdy songs like...like a common tavern drunk!"

Kal shrugged. "It's a way to pass the time."

"But he's a knight!"

"And...?"

"Knights have an obligation to..."

"To what?" Kal countered. "Not laugh? Not sing, not smile, not speak a word? What is a knight's responsibility?"

They reached the edge of the river, removing their armour and carefully placing it to the side. As they started to wash their mud-spattered and sweat-stained garments, Anomen replied.

"A knight's responsibility is to be an example, a...a figurehead of goodness!"

Really, now? "And what's that?"

"Why...to be a glorious warrior, to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked, and to vanquish evil!"

"And Keldorn doesn't do that?"

"Well...I suppose he does, but carrying on as he does - why, it disgraces him and the Order as well."

"You do better, do you?"

"I am not a knight yet," Anomen said. "But I do as well as any knight! Indeed, often better! I spoke of the Ommlur Hills, but even that was a pathetic skirmish compared to my true feats of valour. The Order's campaign against the Hillgnasher giants...now that brought the blood up."

"It must have been quite the adventure," Kal replied blandly, again showing disinterest. He had a pretty good idea of what kind of reaction that would provoke, and he was right on.

"Indeed, that it was. I slew, er...twenty of the beasts during that scorching summer!" The pause before the number did not go unnoticed.

"Really?" Kal said with exaggerated wonder. "You must be quite the accomplished giant-slayer." I'll let him dig a nice deep hole for himself.

"I am," Anomen said, not-quite-preening. "An extremely competent giant-slayer. I destroyed them all single-handedly."

"That's so fortunate for me," Kal said. "I've been wondering about the best way to slay a giant. Could you explain?"

"Well, er, one just, uh," Anomen said, stammering. "Um, walks up to its leg, and strikes it until the giant falls over. Yes, and then proceeds on to the head for the, er, quickest kill."

"Yes, fascinating," Kal said with feigned interest. "But I've got a few more questions. How do you prevent the giant from attacking you during that time? After all, they don't just stand there, I'm sure you'll agree. So if it kicked at you, or struck at you with its fist, how would you react? The usual tactic, I'm given to understand, involves at least fifteen people distracting the giant from all directions with a combination of ranged fire and melee combat, but since you destroyed them all single-handedly you must not have had that option open to you. So what did you do?"

Anomen was sweating. "I, er, dodged the vicious attacks of the giants most...most dexterously! And when it struck at me with its fist I...I raised my shield and stopped it in its tracks!"

"That shield maneuver sounds most effective, Anomen. Could you elaborate on how you avoided getting pounded into the ground like a nail? Oh, and how you made such dodges of dexterity, exactly - you know, footwork and all that?"

"I...er...uh...."

Kal nodded. "I see, I see. Tell me, Anomen, are knights supposed to lie?"

"I am not lying! The story is true!" Anomen protested shrilly.

"Whatever you say, Anomen. But I wasn't asking for me - I was asking for you. Ask yourself whether you were lying or not. You may not like the answer."