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Wild Card segment 5
🕑 Added 2024-09-09 19:51:00 +0000 UTCDespite his jest towards Anthony, Sparhawk's mood wasn't entirely a light one. Looking past Berit, who still looked as though he was considering trimming Anthony's beard below the chin with his axe, Sparhawk got a good look down in the courtyard of the chapterhouse, where he could see Kalten and Kurik marching with purpose towards the stables, half armored and accompanied by several novitiates carrying lanterns. He was fairly certain that the pair of them were probably gearing up to go looking for him; best to forestall that. "Don't go away," he called down to them.
"Sparhawk?" asked Kalten, startled, looking up. "What are you doing up there?"
"I thought I'd take up burglary," Sparhawk replied drily. "Don't go anywhere, we're on our way down."
"We?" Kurik repeated, looking first at Kalten, then up at Sparhawk. "Who's 'we'?"
Sparhawk turned his head to briefly look back at the plainly annoyed, balding, pot bellied, middle aged man with the white beard. "I'll explain when we get down there. Anthony, come."
"The alleyway notwithstanding, I'm not a dog," Anthony said irritably, moving to follow Sparhawk. Behind him, Berit stayed a pace back with his axe over one shoulder - not quite in a striking pose, but he'd need very little time or effort to get there.
Sparhawk cleared his throat. "Berit? Can you fetch my hook and rope?"
"Ah..." Berit said hesitantly, eyeing Anthony with evident mistrust.
"Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself- and him, if need be."
"Still have to do as you ask, can't let you come to harm," Anthony said petulantly.
"Just follow me and stay quiet til I say otherwise," Sparhawk said. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the immediate silence that followed, but he needed the quiet to think. "Oh, and Berit? We'll send someone up to take your place, but we're going to need you downstairs after you finish coiling that. This is important."
Berit wordlessly nodded, faking the rope into a neat coil and binding it with a forearm length each of the tail and hook ends, knotting them securely. Sparhawk led them down the parapet to the steep stone stairs that pathed into the courtyard.
Kurik was waiting for him with a thunderous expression on his face. "Where have you been, Sparhawk?" his squire demanded, the tension in his bare, muscled arms and shoulders emphasizing his agitation. The black leather vest Kurik customarily wore wasn't entirely fastened yet, several of the frogs still dangling free. His tone, though forceful, was the hushed tone men typically used in the middle of the night.
"I had to go to the cathedral," Sparhawk explained. "There were... complications."
"Complications?" Kalten asked, sounding amused. The big blond knight wore common mail and had a heavy broadsword hastily buckled on his hip, the straps not yet adjusted for riding. "Had the impulse for a religious experience?"
Sparhawk shook his head grimly, recalling earlier in the night. "Not exactly. Tanis is dead."
"Tanis?" Kalten blurted out, suddenly stricken.
"He was one of the twelve knights with Sephrenia when she encased Ehlana in crystal," Sparhawk clarified. "His ghost told me to go to the crypt beneath the cathedral before it went to give up its sword to Sephrenia."
"And you went? At night?" Kurik asked.
"It was somewhat urgent," Sparhawk answered curtly.
"What did you do? Violate a few tombs? Is that how you got the spear?" Kalten interjected.
"Hardly. King Aldreas gave it to me. Or his ghost did, anyway. Aldreas' missing ring was hidden in the socket of the spearhead." Sparhawk glanced between Kurik and Kalten. "I take it you were getting ready to search for me?"
"Obviously," Kurik replied. "You were missing when I went to check on you at midnight."
Sparhawk blinked at him. "You checked on me at midnight?"
"I check on you every night. Three times, at least. Have since you were a boy," Kurik admitted. "I searched the chapterhouse for you and when it was plain that you were gone, I woke up Kalten." Kurik looked past him, and Sparhawk spared a glance of his own to note with amusement that Berit was a pace behind Anthony, axe still over his shoulder and still watching Anthony with a mistrust that hinted at impending violence.
"Who're you, anyway?" Kalten asked after a second, jutting his chin at Anthony, who tightened his lips and said nothing in response. Kalten's eyes narrowed. "I asked you a question," he said after a moment.
Anthony looked at Sparhawk, and for a brief moment Sparhawk entertained the notion of letting Anthony stew a bit, to see if he really WOULD stay silent until Sparhawk gave him permission to answer. But no; it would only provoke Kalten, and Sparhawk was forced to admit to himself that for all the man was strange, he HAD proved himself useful and had done as he was told so far. "Answer him," Sparhawk said.
"Name's Anthony," the man said shortly. "I got caught up in something unwillingly."
"Caught up in something?" Kurik said with a frown. "What manner of something?"
"Magic," Anthony replied. "A gift I received and read. It did... something to me. Gave me magic. Sent me here. Caused a big mess."
"A mess?" Kurik grunted questioningly, looking at Sparhawk. "How much trouble is this going to cause our order?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure," Sparhawk admitted. "The Rose Street inn was damaged and the road far moreso. At least one was killed by his arrival." Sparhawk shook his head. "Push comes to shove, we could hand him over to the Church ourselves."
Anthony looked first stunned, then affronted. "I beg your pardon?"
"You ARE the one who caused all that destruction," Sparhawk pointed out.
"That wasn't my doing!" Anthony protested. "That was inflicted ON me, not BY me!"
"Did you or did you not make a twelve foot hole in the street when you landed?" Sparhawk asked pointedly.
"I- well, yeah, but-" Anthony said weakly, then spit off to the side. "By Loki's forked tongue, you're an asshole. I had no control over that."
"You were able to slow our fall past the wall of the city," Sparhawk reminded him coolly.
"I'm still figuring out everything that damn book did to me!" Anthony snapped back. "It stuffed things inside my head, and as near as I can tell, it erased things to make room for it. Which worries the hell out of me," he added.
"So far, I only have your word of any of this, including the strange declaration that for the next year you have to obey my commands," Sparhawk retorted. "A single night is little proof of your words. You'll have to build trust and right now, the Order can't afford uncertainty."
Anthony sighed. "So what, then? We're at an impass? You're going to have me imprisoned, executed? Burned at the stake as a witch?"
The temperature in the courtyard cooled noticeably, as all three Pandion knights leveled dangerous glares at Anthony in response, and even Kurik looked scornful. "Watch your tongue," Sparhawk warned.
Anthony looked confused. "What?"
"Don't use the word 'witch'," Kurik advised. "It carries ugly connotations in Elenia, specifically concerning the treatment of Styrics."
"I don't know what Elenia or Styrics are," Anthony said. "But 'witch' is a term for practitioners of Wicca back where I'm from. And I am one- or was, at any rate." He fished around inside his shirt and pulled out a silver object, a star inside a circle, hung on a black cord. "Suppose on some level I still am."
Sparhawk wasn't entirely certain what to say on the matter, but asked, "And the burning?"
"Centuries past, the dominant religion in my homeland burned witches and suspected witches alive, demanding they repent," Anthony answered with a degree of resentment. "And that religion still denounces wiccans as servants of evil."
"Are you?" Kalten asked. At the incredulous looks given him by Kurik and Sparhawk, he shrugged. "It's a fair question," he protested.
"No." The tone in Anthony's voice was distinctly unfriendly, and Sparhawk felt something akin to sympathy, suddenly.
"... I apologize," Sparhawk said after a few terse, sullen moments. "These are dire times, and your arrival has introduced complications we can ill afford right now."
Anthony grunted, seemingly not willing to entirely let go of his resentment, but nodded, his white beard bobbing slightly. "Your ring, and your queen, was it?" he said.
"Best to have this discussion inside," Kurik suggested.
"Oh, and Berit, tell the novitiates in the stables to replace you on the parapet," Sparhawk said. "This is going to take a while. Kurik, could you go wake the others?"
Kurik nodded. "Of course."
