Armor
Chapter 3: Odd Reunions

After an uneventful night, I feigned waking and stretching with a yawn and helped break down the camp. Once it was cleared, we got our packs and started toward Entden. It wasn’t long before we could see it in the distance.

Entden wasn’t quite small enough to be a village or large enough to be a town. It was surrounded by a wall of tree trunks that were patrolled by guards. It sat on the border of two kingdoms, wedged near the center of the forest.

Coming through the gates and seeing the buildings gave me an odd sense of familiarity, deeper than the familiarity brought by Sevald’s brief time in the town. I thought about it as I continued walking, and something about the sensation of the steel boots that were my feet sinking into the mud of the street sparked something.

My first meal, Byn. He’d been born here to a tanner named Fyn and his wife, Tanda. His memories began to flow uncontrollably through me. His mother holding his hand as they walked to market, his father helping him weave a small bracelet out of leftover strips of leather, an adventuring party offering him a chance to join them to clear a dungeon that had long been a plague on the village.

I started recognizing people in the town. The baker’s daughter, Aubrey, now opening the bakery herself, twice as old as Byn’s memories recalled. A guard passed by closely—I remembered throwing rocks at squirrels with him as a child. Before I knew it, I was the one leading the party to the town headman’s house.

The headman was sitting out front, watching the comings and goings of people through Entden. I recognized him as the same man that had led Entden in Byn’s day, though he now sported a head of white hair and a face full of wrinkles.

"Hail, Jusuf!" I said as I approached.

"Hail…" He looked me up and down. "I’m afraid I’m not sure who you are, ser?"

"It’s me, B— Sevald. You tasked me and my companions with clearing the dungeon nearby."

"Ah, that’s right." He sighed deeply. "You gave up, I suppose? I can’t blame you. Dozens of adventurers have tried it, and none have returned. I fear that Entden is doomed to suffer regular terrorizing and harassment by the grim creatures who reside there, and the dark sorcerer who leads them."

Hrig stepped forward, opening a melon-sized bag and removing the head of my former master from it by his hair. "You mean this sorcerer?"

I was starting to sense that she enjoyed dramatic flourishes as much as Stone enjoyed off-color humor. The headman’s eyes widened.

"I can’t belie— You actually did it!"

"That we did, ser, out of the goodness of our hearts and of your town’s generosity with the listed bounty," said Stone, his mind on profit.

"Of course, dear sers. I’ll put it together at once! In the meantime, please make your way to our inn. I’ll send word that you are to eat and drink for free for the night and they should provide you rooms."

"Thank you, ser, we shall head there now," said Kyren.

We turned around, and I led the way to the tavern. It was still called “The Thirsty Tree,” its sign showing a tree root dipped into a beer mug.

It was early morning, the tavern empty. A few travelers sat eating breakfast in a corner, and a logger sat at the bar enjoying a pint before work. We all sat at a corner table, and Kyren walked up to the bartender.

"Here we go…" said Hrig, letting out a sigh.

"Aye, perhaps we should’ve timed things so that we arrived later and she couldn’t get started so early," said Stone.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Kyren is a bit of a drinker. Being given a free pass to drink ‘erfill for free… It’s going to be a long day."

"Kyren? Really?"

"Aye, lad. She’s devout as anything, but the goddess she worships couldn't care less about vices. Still, she steers clear of most of them—gold, men, women, rich food—but drink is the one she allows herself…and she tends to go a little overboard."

"What’s overboard for her? She can’t weigh more than eight stone. A pint is almost the size of her head."

"Well, lad, prepare to be surprised," he said as Kyren continued her negotiation at the bar.

"Honestly, I’d have expected you two to be the drinkers," I said.

Hrig smiled. "I only drink wine. I can't stand the taste of beer, and that’s usually all there is to be had in a place like this." She paused, her mouth twisting in disgust. "Just because I’m a barbarian doesn’t mean I like the taste of piss."

Stone chuckled. "I don’t mind drinking just about anything, but Kyren’s soured it a bit for me. She’s just drunk me under the table a few too many times."

Just then, Kyren returned to the table balancing four mugs filled to the brim with frothy beer. I expected her to distribute one to each of us, but instead, she put them all in front of herself, lifted the closest one to her lips, and drank it as quickly as I could’ve consumed someone who’d donned my armor. If I’d had a mouth, it would’ve been agape. She gently wiped a froth mustache from her upper lip and let out a long, satisfied sigh, then looked up at me.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Sevald, did you want one? Normally, Stone and Hrig aren’t up for it this early, so I just assumed you wouldn’t."

"You, uh, assumed correctly. Feel free to enjoy those all on your own."

She smiled. "Oh, I will."

* * *

While bearing witness to Kyren downing more beer than should’ve been physically possible, I settled in and people-watched while listening to Hrig and Stone snipe at one another. Eventually, the headman arrived with a sturdy pouch of gold coins of which my cut was twenty-five pieces.

"Lad, care to come with me while I go fence the rest of our loot?" said Stone, rolling a single gold piece between his fingers.

"Fence? But we didn’t steal anything," I said.

"Oh, yer right. I mean sell. Old habits."

"Sure, but why me?"

"A man in a suit of armor standing behind me may give my negotiations a nice edge."

"If intimidation’s the goal, wouldn’t Hrig be a better choice?"

"He wants to show off, Sevald. He knows me and Kyren aren’t impressed by his haggling anymore." Stone looked a little embarrassed. "We’re appreciative, mind you, but not impressed."

"Well, I’ll join you. I don’t have a lot of experience with merchants."

I had none, in fact. We stood up and left the tavern, which was still relatively empty at just past noon. I let Stone lead the way, though I already knew where the market was. We stopped in at the jeweler’s first. The shop owner sat behind a counter carefully polishing a small gold ring. He was a portly fellow, with little hair left on his head, but his eyes were keen as he sized us up.

"Hail. You must be the adventurers who finally cleared up our dungeon problem."

"Aye, that we are. We were just looking to improve your inventory with some of what we found."

"Oh, really? Let’s see what you’ve got."

Stone produced a small pouch from somewhere and started laying out the gemstones we’d found. A few amethysts, a rather large garnet, and two sapphires. Stone then began to lay down the gems he’d taken from my master’s tunic, but just after the jeweler had taken notice of them, he put them back into the pouch.

"Ah, not those, actually."

"Wait, ser, those looked...rather interesting."

"Oh, they are, but I’m not sure I’m ready to sell them yet. I feel that for gems of their quality, they may do better in a larger city."

The jeweler frowned. "You’ll find no fairer price than what I offer in my own shop, I assure you of that, ser."

"I believe that you believe that, but I’ve travelled a ways, and it’s always been good policy to save the best pieces for the richest cities."

As Stone talked, the shopkeeper was slowly turning red.

"I do not doubt that richer cities seem like they offer better prices, but my shop has stood for one hundred years of family-owned apprenticeship, and in that time, we have never been outdone in terms of the quality of our business and the fairness of our dealings."

"Well, if that’s the case, ser, what would you say the gems that I’ve already laid out are worth?"

The merchant took up a small magnifying lens and began looking through the gemstones. After a few moments, he put them down.

"For this lot, I’ll give you sixty gold pieces. And I dare you to find a better price than that in any city."

Stone contemplated the offer for a moment before laying out the remaining gems he’d taken from my master’s tunic. They were rubies, I noticed, and seemed very fine to me, though I lacked the skills to truly tell. The jeweler took a few moments with each of them.

"For these, I will offer another hundred."

"Ye’ve got a deal." Stone held out his hand, and they shook to seal the bargain.

Items were exchanged, and then we were back on the street. Stone let out a satisfied sigh before looking up at me as if he’d just asked a question and was expecting an answer. I thought for a moment, trying to put together the thoughts and memories I had access to in order to figure it out.

"You knew you’d get a better price on the less valuable gemstones if you could distract him with the nicer ones."

"Exactly. I dangled a carrot out of his reach so that he’d give me a higher offer to get to it. Along with a little bit of needling to his pride, I probably managed to make us almost thirty gold more altogether."

I stood there for a moment, thinking over what he said.

"Don’t worry about fairness, by the way. I know you’re a Durite. He’ll be able to sell those gems for almost double what he bought them for once he works them into some jewelry. I just wanted to make sure we got our due after almost dying in that damned dungeon."

"Ah, I understand."

I didn’t, but he seemed to know what he was talking about. After that, I watched him sell the equipment we’d found for double its value to a pious man by pretending he was giving away his adventuring gear to join a monastery, and then I watched him convince a man that the foods he was selling were near expiring, but he'd take them off his hands for a steep discount. By the end of it, he was smiling ear to ear, his pockets jingling as we walked.

We reentered the tavern as the sun started to set. The entire atmosphere of The Thirsty Tree had changed. There was dancing, singing, a fight in the corner, and a cow behind the bar. Kyren was sitting in the same spot we’d left her, but the four pints she’d had had multiplied into roughly twenty, and there were four men passed out around her. Hrig was asleep, or more likely passed out, leaning against the table with her thick blond braid as her only pillow.

"She challenged you again, eh?" Stone asked Kyren.

"Yes, it turns out they had wine, too."

Kyren’s speech seemed totally unaffected. The only indication that she’d had a drink at all was some redness in her cheeks.

"And these lot challenged you as well?" He gestured at the small pile of men on the floor.

"Yes. And it seems all that led to more drinking in general."

Stone chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I’ll be turning in to count our profits and make sure they’re fairly distributed."

"Fairly, eh?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Fair to me, at least, yes." He smiled and made his way through the tavern-goers and up to the room he’d been provided. I sat quietly, watching Kyren finish yet another pint. As she did, she looked up at me.

"You’ll have to be careful, you know."

"Careful about what?"

"About your oath. Some people may take it as a challenge." She gestured meaningfully toward Hrig.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, some women may enjoy the satisfaction that could come from being enticing enough to make a man break his oath to a god."

"Oh…" Suddenly, the room seemed too hot.

"Don’t worry, though. I’m sure you can handle it."

"Will you help me to, uh, avoid such challenges?" I asked.

I was sincerely curious about having that virtue taken, but it wasn’t exactly an option for one whose physical form was a void with armor for skin.

"Oh, don’t worry, us worshippers have to stick together, and a godly oath in particular should be upheld."

I let out an imitated sigh. "Thank you, Kyren."

She smiled.

"Then again, I also suppose it wouldn’t be much of an oath if it wasn’t tested now and again." She smiled and returned her attention to the next pint.

She was joking. Probably.

I took a moment to glance around the bar. There were some men playing dice in the corner, the fight had ended with both men being tossed outside, and a few men were asking the cow for another round. A man at the far end of the bar raised his head for a moment, and if I’d had a heart, it might have stopped. It was my, or rather, Byn’s father.

He looked much older than Byn’s memories of him. His hair had gone white, his skin wrinkled; his face had gone red and irritated in the way of men who drink too much too often, and his clothing was dirty and soiled. It didn’t take much to realize how he’d gotten to this state. He’d lost his child.

I suddenly felt very heavy. I hadn’t regretted anything before, but a search through my meal's experiences told me that’s what was happening.

I didn’t care for it. I felt a need to do something to relieve that weight.

I reached deep into myself and slid my hand into the seam between my knee and my thigh plate. Out of that, I pulled a small bracelet of woven leather. It looked the same as it had when I’d eaten its owner. I stood up and approached the man, sliding onto the stool next to him.

He looked up at me into my faceplate, and a sharp pang clanged in my chestplate as memories of him raising Byn flooded through me. I took the leather bracelet and held it out to him.

"He wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer this much. He was a man, and he made his own decisions. There’s no reason to put yourself through this."

His eyes widened. He took the bracelet and turned it in his hands. Tears welled in his eyes.

"How'd you know?"

"I'm one of the adventurers that cleared out the dungeon. I heard about what had happened to your son when I was investigating what the townsfolk knew about it."

The man looked down at the bracelet. "Thank you, ser. I'll treasure this."

He pushed away his drink and stumbled out of the room. I felt lighter then. I wasn't sure if it was guilt that I'd felt for eating his son. I didn’t know good from bad until yesterday, and I still wasn’t clear on the finer points of it. What I definitely felt was indebted to those whose lives I’d eaten. They still lived in a sense, but not in a way that they’d chosen, and their absence from the lives of those that cared for them was my responsibility.

I walked back toward Kyren. She regarded me with a strange look.

"I can see that the gods work through you," she said.

I was profoundly uncomfortable with the implications of that. I went and lifted Hrig. She was light, at least to me.

"I’m going to take her to her bed. This can’t be a comfortable way to sleep."

"She’s never complained about it before, but it’s probably a good idea. If she wakes up on the way, do remember your oath."

Heat built again in my faceplate, and I moved to carry her to her bed. Kyren regarded me with her usual small smile as I made my way up the steps.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.