56: Noble

Lady Velika Vekuavak walked through the campsite, looking at the evidence that the unknown group had left behind. She was wearing her full battle regalia, itching for a fight after her scout had gone missing. The flexible lamellar armor that she was wearing did not impede her as she knelt to touch the ashes of a campfire.

“Still warm. They haven’t been gone long.”

“Yes, Lady Vekuavak,” came the voice of her guard captain. Her face twisted into a scowl as she stood. She automatically laid a hand on the brace of swords that hung from her left hip so that they wouldn’t get tangled with the longer blade that hung from her right. She shifted her shoulders, re-settling the massively oversized greatsword that was strapped to her back. The weight of the blade was impressive, if nothing else.

She glared at her guard captain. “For the last time. Call me Velika.”

“It was your late mother’s command, my lady. She insisted that you follow in her footsteps. The title is a part of that.”

“Yes, and I’ve told you, I don’t give a shit. I don’t need you here, either. If I’d come alone, I’d have caught them. You lot are just slowing me down.” She gestured to the assembled party of retainers, horses, and wagons. “You could have just brought the miners once I’d already cleared out the Dark Hounds. I don’t even know why I’m out here in this backwater.”

“Yes, my lady.” Bravis bowed again.

“Bah. Any sign of the scout yet? What was his name? Stint?”

“No, my lady. I sent a group to check the mine, but we will wait for you, as ordered.”

“Damn right you will. Dark Hounds would tear the lot of you apart. I’m the one guarding you, not the other way around.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Velika sighed and pushed an errant strand of black hair away from her face. “Spread out. Make sure they’re really gone. Let me know what you find.”

She started pacing impatiently. This is a waste of time. She stopped pacing after a while and made to sit on a log, but halted at the voice of one of her guardsmen. “My lady, a cart.”

She searched for the origin of the voice, spotting a leather-armored grunt waving at her. “Oh, a cart, how exciting,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She sighed and walked over to him. “Show me.”

The guard led her around a small hill, revealing a common farmer’s cart. It was completely unremarkable. She circled the cart, her eyes latching on to the contents. “So they were after the metal, then?” She reached in, lifting one of the bars. She held the gray metal up to her eyes. “Iron? It’s been refined...” She looked up at the grunt. “Get me Jeral.”

“Yes, my lady.” The guard bobbed his head and retreated, leaving her to investigate the contents of the cart alone.

“Most curious,” said Bravis from behind her.

Or not. “Damn it, Bravis, I told you to stop following me everywhere. Go make yourself useful.”

“I must guard you, my lady.”

Velika clenched her fists but forced herself to relax. The man was insufferable. One of these days, I’m going to just cut his fucking head off. I don’t care what my aunt says. Maybe that would convince his replacement to listen when I told him to use my fucking name. She gestured to the metal in the cart. “How much ore would it take to refine this much metal, given the historical quality of the ore in this mine?”

“I do not know, my lady.” He looked a little taken aback by the question.

“Useless. Where the fuck is Jeral?”

“He is coming now, my lady.”

Velika tapped her foot impatiently. She glared at the guard leading Jeral toward them when he finally returned. “Took you long enough,” she said.

The guard bowed. “Apologies, my lady.”

“Get lost. You too, Bravis.”

Jeral laughed. “Hod, you’re dismissed,” he said to the relieved-looking guard. “You need to treat your people better, Velika. It’s not his fault. I was on the other side of the camp. There’s something very interesting over there.”

Velika shrugged, looking away from the cart to regard the retired adventurer. Jeral was ancient, at least 60, if she was remembering correctly, but other than his gray hair, the man looked to be in his prime. He wore an open vest of leather and his arms were corded with muscle. Once more she considered taking him for a tumble, and once more she dismissed the idea. He was old enough to be her grandfather. It was just weird, even if he was attractive. She’d find someone else to warm her bed tonight.

“This metal. What can you tell me?” she asked, handing him the ingot of iron. Jeral took the bar, then whistled. “Pure as anything. This explains the other side of the camp. Someone’s using filter refining.”

“Which means?” Velika said. She waited patiently. Jeral would get to the point eventually. He, at least, was worth keeping around. Not like the rest of her retainers.

Jeral placed the bar of iron back in the cart, then lifted out a large sphere of some lighter-colored metal. “Humm. Interesting,” he said, turning the sphere this way and that. “Whoever did this was a master smith. Probably at least level twenty-five. This is a perfect sphere. No imperfections, at least that I can see. No use for it, either.” He laughed. “Maybe he just did it for fun.”

Velika’s eyes flashed. “A master smith? Now that is something that makes the trip out here worth it. I’ve got a use for him.”

“Mmm,” Jeral said, setting the sphere back in the cart. “It looks like they fled on foot. Stint must have warned them we were coming. I told you it was a mistake to send scouts out so far on their own.”

“What good is a scout if they’re just going to get themselves captured? If he’s alive, he’d be smart not to come back. And how do you know they fled? Couldn’t they still be inside the mine?”

Jeral pointed. “Tracks. Deep ones. Either I’m losing my touch, or someone was carrying something incredibly heavy. They were running, too. See how they’ve sunk into the earth? See the spacing? They would have used the cart instead unless they knew we were coming up the road.” He tilted his head. “And you wouldn’t have so many problems with your scouts if you actually took the time to screen them properly.”

Velika followed Jeral’s finger, ignoring his comment about her recruiting practices. The tracks were as clear as day, the outline of boots pressed deep into the hard dirt. She grinned. “I’m going after them.”

“My lady, remember why we are here,” Bravis said. “The mine must be reopened. Your aunt said that—”

“Why are you still here?” Velika snapped, glaring at him. “I told you to get lost.” One of these days…

Bravis sighed and rubbed his eyes. “At least let us accompany you. You can’t go after them alone. If the smith is as high of a level as Jeral says, he will most likely be accompanied by powerful allies.”

Velika shook her head. “No. I’m going alone. If they fled, it means that they don’t want to fight, or that they are too weak to threaten me. Jeral, help them with the mine. I expect those miners to be working by the time I’m back. I’m going to talk with this smith.”

Jeral laughed. “Just talk?” he said, smirking at her. “I remember your ‘talk’ with the last smith you hired.”

Velika smiled. “That woman was useless. Barely past level ten. She wasn’t worth the time I spent on her.” She drew the odachi on her right hip partly out of its scabbard, then slammed it back in irritation.

Jeral shook his head, looking at her with a grandfatherly smile. “Osaran swordsmiths were world-renowned, in their time. I’m not surprised she couldn’t duplicate the enchantments in your mother’s odachi.” He nodded to the massive sword on her back. “That should serve you well enough.”

“All I asked for was a bigger version. It shouldn’t be that difficult. This thing is a fucking oar.” She shifted her shoulders again, unhappy with the weight. She didn’t bother drawing it to demonstrate, not that she could do so with the length of the blade. “She’s lucky I didn’t flatten her with it.”

“At least the daggers she made you are to your satisfaction,” Jeral said, nodding to the thin blades strapped on a bandoleer across her chest. The strap joined with her belt at her left hip where the dual scabbards held her mother’s other blades, a katana and a wakizashi. “Has anyone ever told you that you might have too many swords?”

Velika laughed. “No such thing. Anyway, I’m going.”

“My lady, I must insist we accompany you. You cannot go alone,” Bravis said.

“Fine, Bravis, fine. You can come.” She grinned. “If you can keep up, that is.” She closed her eyes, retreating into her soul. She looked over her accolades, those she had earned herself, and those she’d recently inherited after her mother’s death. She deactivated some of her more defensive bonuses and replaced them with ones that focused on tracking, perception, and most of all, speed. Not for the last time, she wished that there was an easier way to attune more of the accolades at once. With as many as she had, she’d be unstoppable.

“My lady, please!” Bravis said. She ignored him. Her view blurred as she launched herself in the direction of the tracks. The wind sent her hair streaming out behind her as she left the irritating man in the dust. She smiled as she heard Jeral’s laughter fade into the distance, muted by the rushing of the wind. She kicked off again, driving herself forward ever faster.

“How…much trouble are…we in?” Rain gasped as he struggled to keep up.

“It depends,” said Ameliah. She was moving along at an easy lope, having slowed down considerably when it was clear that Rain couldn’t maintain the pace. “I don’t know anything about this particular noble house.”

“How bad could it be?” Jamus asked. “We didn’t do anything wrong, at least not by Guild law. If she owned the mine, then I suppose she might try to make an issue of it, but—”

“Who cares who owned it,” said Carten. He was rolling along at an easy jog, despite the massive shields he was carrying. “Finders keepers. She should fuckin’ thank us for dealing with the lair and leavin’ her all that metal besides. Did her a favor, as I see it.”

“I don’t know about that, Carten,” said Jamus. “She’s awakened. That means she might have been able to deal with it herself. There are few things worse than an awakened noble. Still, by the Guild’s rules, the lair was unclaimed. Otherwise, I would never have agreed to come here in the first place. We’re well within the law.”

Val scoffed. “See how far that gets you out here. Nobles make their own rules. It was worth the risk, though. I wouldn’t have done anything differently, given the chance. We just need to get away before they catch us.”

Carten shook his head. “If this noble comes after us, we tell her to go an’ twist.”

“Why didn’t…you tell me about this…before?” Rain gasped. Fuck I can’t breathe. It’s not fair that they’re all in such good shape, even Jamus. “Can we slow down?”

“Fine,” Ameliah said, nodding to him and slowing to a stop. “Just a few minutes.” Rain groaned. She turned to Tallheart. “Do you want me to carry that for a while?”

Tallheart inclined his head to her, not lowering the massive anvil that he was carrying. “I am fine. I thank you for the offer.”

Rain bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he puffed for air. He was still wearing his new armor, though he’d raised the faceplate to improve his airflow.

I shouldn’t have let them convince me that breaking the core was the right thing to do. Now we’ve got a noble after us. We could have cut a deal with the owner, brought people out here to farm it for blues, or…

He shook his head. No. I’m being stupid again. I’d never have been able to use it like I wanted. The Watch or someone would have taken control of it, and then…then we’d have nothing.

Stint guided the horse up next to him and dismounted, handing him a flask of water. “Sure you don’t want to ride? I know we don’t have a proper saddle, but this horse seems well trained. He shouldn’t throw you, as long as you don’t pinch him with your armor.”

Rain panted, trying to calm his breathing. “I told you. I don’t know how.” He handed the flask back.

“My turn, then,” Val said. He clambered up on to the horse, which looked over its shoulder to eye him skeptically. It snorted, trying to bite him, but he swatted it on the nose. “Cut it out, you. Honestly, Rain, how have you never learned to ride?”

Rain stood back up. He felt a stitch coming on, so he raised his arms over his head to stretch it out. “It isn’t unusual, where I come from. I told you about cars, remember?”

Val laughed. “I still don’t see how dead lizards can be turned into explosions that push the vehicle forward.”

Rain sighed. “I told you, that was just a joke. I’m pretty sure it was old plants that actually became oil, not—”

“Not the time,” Ameliah said, standing in front of him. “Are you ready, Rain? The sooner we get to the road, the better.”

Rain nodded wearily. “Can we walk for a little bit, at least?”

“Fine,” Ameliah said. “Come on, let’s—look out!” She shoved him. Hard. He flew away, crashing against a tree. He managed to catch himself on a branch before he fell to the ground. There was a massive boom as a gigantic wall of wind struck them, dragging a cloud of dust along with it. Rain struggled back to his feet, more stunned than hurt. He coughed, then brought his visor down to keep more of the dust from getting in.

What the fuck was that!?

He kept coughing, trying to clear the dust from his lungs. The white light of Ameliah’s Purification sprang into existence, thinning out the dust and clearing the air. Rain looked over at her to see her facing an armored woman stalking toward her. There was a deep furrow carved into the ground that definitely hadn’t been there before.

Where the hell did she come from? That’s…a lot of swords…

The woman came to a stop facing Ameliah as the others recovered. Rain watched the pair warily. The unknown woman’s skin was black, slightly darker than Val’s, and her attractive face was surrounded by a shock of tangled hair. As he watched, she calmly ran her hands through it, tidying the mess into something approaching a neat ponytail, which she secured with a strip of leather.

“Sorry about that,” she said. Her tone said that she was anything but. “The wind can get a bit unmanageable.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Carten said. “And what the fuck just happened?”

Unless I’m wrong…that was a sonic boom. She just—

His thoughts were interrupted as the woman laughed. “Ha. Right to the point. A man after my own heart. I’m Velika.” Her smile vanished, her face turning hard and stony in an instant. “Now. Who the fuck are you, and what were you doing in my mine?”

Oh shit. This must be the noble. Wait, where’s Stint? Rain looked around, not seeing the scout anywhere. Everyone else was accounted for, though Val was still lying on the ground where the horse had thrown him. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing at his head.

“We’re adventurers,” Carten said, stepping forward and pounding his hand against his armored chest. “And what we were doin’ is none of your business.”

Rain winced. Who decided to let Carten do the talking? He offered his hand to Val, who took it and pulled himself back to his feet.

“Adventurers, huh?” she said, looking at each of them in turn. Her eyes lingered on Rain’s armor before settling on Tallheart. “Which one of you is the smith?”

“Huh?” Carten said.

She started walking to the side, then turned, heading directly for Rain. Ameliah smoothly moved to intercept. “We apologize if we have offended you. To our knowledge, the mine was abandoned. By the custom of the Guild—”

“Yes, yes. I don’t care about that,” Velika interrupted, staring at Ameliah. “I want to know who made that armor,” she said, pointing first at Rain, then at Tallheart. Her eyes flicked to Carten briefly, but her finger didn’t move, staying locked to the antlered smith. “And why is there a cervidian with you?”

“He is under our protection,” Ameliah said, raising a hand to keep Tallheart from responding.

Oh, this is bad. This is really bad.

“And you think you can protect him? From me? Do you have any idea who I am?” The woman grinned, laying a hand on the hilt of one of her swords.

“Please,” Jamus said, stepping forward. “There’s no need for violence. Let’s discuss this.”

“A duel,” Val said suddenly. Rain blinked, looking at him. “We’ll resolve this with a duel. You versus Ameliah. If you win, we’ll do whatever you want. If Ameliah wins, you let us go.”

“Val!” Ameliah hissed at him.

The woman laughed. “Ha. No, I don’t think so. You will explain yourselves, or I will make you. Now. Which one of you is the smith?”

“I am,” Tallheart rumbled. The woman raised an eyebrow.

“Huh,” she said. “A cervidian smith. I wouldn’t have expected that. Aren’t you supposed to be all twigs and nature?” She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the joints of his armor. “Yes. Very good. You will come with me.”

Tallheart shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Excuse me?” said Velika.

“He said no,” Carten said. “Ya deaf?”

“Shut up, Carten,” Jamus said. “We can’t fight this woman.”

“The hell we can’t!” Carten said, banging his shields together. “I don’t care how fast she is. She can’t be tougher than we are. There’s one of her and six of us. Seven, if you count the idiot archer.”

“Archer?” Velika said. “Oh, you mean my scout? I thought I saw him cowering as I closed in on you. So he’s a traitor, then?” She snorted. “I’ll deal with him later. He can’t have gotten far.”

“Why do you want Tallheart to go with you?” Ameliah asked, drawing the woman’s attention back to her.

“I have a job for him,” she replied.

“And if I do not wish to work for you?” Tallheart said.

She tried to sidestep Ameliah again, but Ameliah moved to block her. “I will make it worth your time.”

Tallheart tilted his head, considering, before replying in his bass rumble. “No.”

The woman sighed. “Look. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not going to turn you in to the fucking Adamants or anything. I just want you to make me a sword. I don’t care who you are, or how much you stole from me. Now, come on. Let’s go.”

“Damn spoiled noble brat, lookin’ down on us,” Carten said.

“Wait, Carten,” Rain said, surprising himself. This woman’s confidence in the face of a full team of adventurers was giving him a horrible feeling in his gut. He gulped as her gaze returned to him. “How can we trust you? If he goes with you, how can we know you won’t—”

“You have my word,” Velika said.

Tallheart shook his head. “No. I am leaving with my friends. I will make nothing for you. Not here. Not like this. If I am to create something for you, you must meet me on my terms.”

The woman’s face twisted into an expression of petulant anger. Uh oh. That’s not good.

Before the woman could do anything, Ameliah suddenly looked to the side. Rain followed her gaze, picking out a rider rapidly approaching, following the windswept trail that Velika had scored along the landscape. Velika swore loudly as the rider pulled to a halt. “Gods damn it, Bravis. Leave me the fuck alone.”

The man dismounted, bowing to Velika at the waist. “My lady, I am sworn to protect you.” He straightened, holding up a hand to cut off her angry response. “There is a problem. We need you back at the mine.” He eyed the gathered adventurers, then returned his gaze to his master.

“What the fuck could you possibly need me for that Jeral can’t handle?” she demanded, staring at the man.

“A group of adventurers, my lady.” He eyed the party again. “Another one. The one the scouts said was following us. They say that there is a lair at the bottom of the mine and that they are here to claim it for their own use.”

“So?” Velika said. “Tell them to fuck off.”

“My lady, the party is being led by Lavarro.”

Rain blinked. Oh shit!

Velika swore again and finally took her hand away from her sword. “That fucking bitch will be the death of me,” she said with a sigh. “I’m tempted to just let her have it. It’s not like this mine is worth the trouble.” She paused, then shook her head. “No. No, I won’t. First, she snaps up the quest I posted for charity, for charity, I tell you, and now this. I won’t allow it. It’s the principle of the thing. Just because she’s stronger than I am, it doesn’t mean she can get her way.”

Is she…not aware of the hypocrisy of that statement? Is she for real?

Velika ran her hands through her hair again and sighed. She turned to look at Tallheart. “We’re not done. Where can I find you?”

Tallheart stared back at her in silence. The woman tapped her foot impatiently. Finally, Tallheart replied. “Fel Sadanis. Talk to Jamus at the guild. I will…consider your request.”

What, really?

“Fine,” Velika said. “Who’s Jamus.”

Jamus raised his hand. “That would be me. You’re sure about this, Tallheart?”

Tallheart nodded. “I do not want her to know where I live. If you bring her to my village, I will be most displeased with you, Jamus.”

Tallheart doesn’t live in a village…oh. I get it. Clever. He’s trying to throw her off. Maybe he means to run away, and he only told her he’d consider it to buy some time?

Luckily, Jamus seemed to catch on immediately and he didn’t bat an eye. He nodded, then turned to the noblewoman. “I will be in the city after a few days. Please, do not try to follow us or do anything that would endanger my friend. You know how it is for his kind.”

The woman nodded. “I will respect his privacy, provided he is as good as Jeral seems to think he is. I’ll be there in two weeks. I need to go north, first. You better still be there and this better not be a waste of my fucking time.  Come on, Bravis.” She sighed. “Lavarro, huh? This is going to be a whole thing...”

Without warning, the woman vanished in a puff of dust. Despite himself, Rain gasped. So fast! He searched for where she’d gone, quickly spotting her heading back the way she had come. He tracked her progress by the wake of debris that she was drawing behind her. She kept speeding up, another echoing boom sounding just as she disappeared from sight. Bravis sighed and climbed back onto his horse. He looked at the group, then shook his head wordlessly. He pulled the horse’s head around and kicked it into a gallop to chase after her.

Ameliah let out a breath, then turned to look at Tallheart. “Well, that went differently from how I was expecting.”

Carten lowered his shields, relaxing from his ready pose as the horseman retreated in the distance. “Who the flying fuck was that, and why haven’t I heard of her?”

Jamus shook his head. “I have no idea. Ask Lavarro. It sounds like they have a history.”

Carten scowled. “No thanks.”

Ameliah turned angrily to Val. “Why would you suggest that I fight someone like that? And without asking me first? Even if I won, do you think her family would have just let it go? What were you thinking?”

Val shrugged. “She’s Osaran, I think. She’d have kept it fair. I figured it was our best shot.”

Ameliah sighed and rubbed at her neck wearily. “Next time, just let me do all the talking. She’s…one of the bad ones.”