Mark of the Fool
Chapter 543: Those that Fought and Drank Together

“Listen, I don’t know how else to say this except to simply say it. You have my eternal gratitude.” Alex lifted three heavy sacks of jewels. “If it weren’t for you three, we’d all be dead in Cretalikon. But, the skills, power and fearlessness you brought to the mission, let us succeed, and that’s a fact.”

“It’s a shame Guntile and Celsus aren’t here to hear you say that,” Ezerak grunted, a touch of emotion in his voice. “They would have appreciated it.”

“In truth, we all fought well, but without their sacrifices, I doubt we would have escaped in one piece,” Kyembe sighed, melancholy touching his eyes. The Spirit Killer took a long swig from a wineskin, then poured some onto the soil at his feet to toast Celsus and Guntile .

“Aye.” Ripp nodded. “Celsus just wouldn’t fall would he?…and Guntile’s exploding gift to that demon was nothing short of inspired.” He laughed. “I can still see her middle finger sticking straight up at old Kaz. It’s too bad I didn’t get to know the two of ‘em better.”

“Yes…they were good companions,” Claygon said sadly.

“Maybe someday we’ll get that chance in the afterworld,” Thundar added. “I’ll make sure to look ‘em up when I get there.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “Two more waiting for us to find them.” He looked toward the rising sun, his expression was grim. “Two more.”

The companions—who days before—had quested to Jaretha, were now gathered near the peak of a mountain in some vast range that Alex had never seen or heard of before. Squat houses, in a large dwarven town rested on its slopes, with chimneys spitting black smoke into the sky. Atop the mountain, the Whetstone Tavern stood, now wearing the appearance of a building that had been crafted by dwarven hands from a single slab of stone long ago.

Laughter and song drifted from its shuttered windows, and Alex wondered just where its patrons had come from. Perhaps many were visitors from planets spread among the sea of stars. Since he now knew there were other worlds in the universe filled with life, it wouldn’t surprise him if travellers who passed through the tavern’s doors came from among the stars.

The possibility seemed so obvious now that he wondered why the idea hadn’t taken root in his mind before. Maybe, there was magic connected to the tavern that helped such questions slip from a curious mind.

Whether or not that should bother him, Alex didn’t know, but it was something to consider later. For now, he would relish the first breaths of a morning among companions forged by blood and coin, far away from demon realms,

“You know, I’m starting to think it might be time to get out of the life,” Ripp said, lightly flexing his now healed leg as though checking to make sure it was still there, and in one piece. “Lots of close calls on this job, someday one o’ them’s gonna be too close. If it wasn’t for Baelin, I don’t think I’d be ever walking proper again. If at all.”

The chancellor, before bringing them to Whetstone, had teleported Ripp to a temple in Generasi where a hefty donation to their coffers had encouraged the high priest to realise that the swiftling’s soul ‘deserved divine attention’.

One powerful miracle later, Ripp’s leg was as good as new.

Alex was cynical about the priest’s motivation.

But what he thought really didn’t matter: Ripp was walking, and that was good enough.

“I have given that notion some thought as well: maybe leave the mercenary life behind,” Ezerak rumbled. “I don’t want to think about what would have happened if Kaz-Mowang had captured us. The idea of being a demon’s trained pet holds no appeal.”

“He certainly would not have been kind,” Kyembe said grimly. “I have heard the promises of demons before. Their whispers are sweet, but their true promise is but scorpion’s venom. Our time with him would have left scars and of course, death.”

“Well, that didn’t happen,” Alex offered a bag of gems to Ripp, Kyembe and Ezerak. “Instead, you’re alive, and here getting your well-deserved pay.”

“And that is what matters.” Kyembe accepted the payment, a frown growing on his brow. “Have you made a mistake…I believe this feels heavier than it should.”

“I divided Guntile and Celsus’ payment among the three of you,” Alex said. “You deserve it.”

“Well, you won’t catch me arguing with that.” Ripp happily took his pay. “I’m going to toast the two of them and get as drunk as a…well, as a drunk. Then I’m going to sleep for a week. After that, I’ll figure out what to do with the rest.”

“As for me, I plan on living like a king for a while,” Ezerak rumbled. “I confess, I miss my old life at times, and this will give me back that life for a time.” He hefted the bag. “What about you, Kyembe?”

The Spirit Killer was considering the bag of gems, a troubled look marking his face.

‘Don’t tell me it’s not enough,’ Alex wondered, until the Spirit Killer answered the former king.

“It does not feel right to me. To take all of this. Did Guntile and Celsus have family? Celsus’ body should be laid to rest in his homeland and his gems should go to his family. We had…no body to retrieve in Guntile’s case, but her family should take in death what she earned in life.”

Guilt flashed across Ripp’s face.

Ezerak nodded at the Spirit Killer with respect, then shook his head. “As far as I know, they had no family. Guntile never had children and her clan is long dead. Her father and mother too. She was the last of her line. As for Celsus, he had no children either, and he left his people because he hated them: I could never get the full story from him, but what bits he did tell were dark enough to steal all joy from the heart. No, he has no homeland that he would want to return to: Perhaps I’ll see him cremated and spread his ashes across the realms I walk. He travelled in life, so it’s fitting that he should also travel in death.”

Kyembe pondered this. “A fine solution, my friend. Then, I shall take these gems and have a drink in their memory.”

“Fair enough, and I think I'll get started on that.” Ezerak extended a large hand to Alex. “Go with honour, commander.”

“You too.” Alex shook the former king’s hand. A part of him had wanted to ask just how he’d become a former monarch, but there hadn’t been time. “And listen, working with you was an honour. If we meet again, I’d like to hear the story of how you became a former king, if you wouldn’t mind telling it. Thanks, for your help, Ezerak, and I’d hire you again in a heartbeat. All three of you.”

“And I would take you up on that, Alex,” Ezerak said.

The young wizard raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you use my first name.”

Ezerak nodded. “The job is done, and we are parting ways so you are no longer my commander. Now we are peers, until you are my commander again.” He eyed the sack in his hand, then looked at Alex, Ripp, Kyembe and Thundar. “Or until I am yours. Someday, I will go and reclaim my kingdom. When that day comes, I will need strong arms and quick minds, if you’re interested.”

The Spirit Killer smiled. “Well, my arm is strong, my mind is quicker than that of a snail with rheumatism, and my purse, unfortunately, is often light, so I might take you up on that.”

“I wouldn’t mind helping out either, Ezerak.” Alex clasped the man’s forearm firmly. “When we meet again.”

“When we meet again.” The former king patted the young wizard on the shoulder, turning and striding up the mountain toward the Whetstone tavern.

There was grace in his stride.

“I should make my departure as well,” Kyembe said, his rich tone filling the morning air. He tossed his bag of gems from hand to hand. “These, I must decide what to do with.” He gave the tavern a wry smile. “While I was staying at Whetstone, I discovered something curious. Did you know it always returns to the exact place it found you? In my case, that is not so convenient: as I have not forgotten that an entire army wants my head, spine, or heart.”

The Spirit Killer frowned. “Or perhaps all three, it is hard to keep track of all the threats in your wake when you are trying to put distance between you and them.”

Thundar burst out laughing. “I guess that makes sense. They all just kinda blend together. You ever notice that all those greater demons kinda sound similar?”

Kyembe raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean arrogant, enraged when thwarted, violent and dripping in false promises? Why no, I never did notice,” he chuckled.

“Hah! I thought I was the only one who’d noticed.” Alex smiled…but his smile soon faded. “Listen, man, I owe you an apology.”

Kyembe cocked his head at him. “Whatever for?” The half-dark elf lifted the sack of gems, shaking it. “Once I am in a position to collect these from wherever I stow them, you will have made me rich…for a time, at least. Wealth never seems to stay with me. But, my point remains: there is nothing to apologise for.”

Alex shifted his feet. “Look, I gotta admit, I didn’t trust you completely when we first met. There were enemies after me, and I thought you might have been a plant or something.”

“A tree, at least?”

“Eh?”

“You said I looked as a plant does, so I would hope to be a tree: there is some majesty in that. A yam might be insulting.”

“No!” Alex said. “Not a literal plant—”

“Oh, I am aware.” Kyembe smiled broadly, his red eyes twinkling. “I stumbled into your path—supposedly a man in need—and one perfectly equipped for your expedition. And—” His smile faded. “—the features of my mother…it would not be the first time someone has assumed they mean I have ties to the demonic.”

Alex looked at him sheepishly. “Yeah, but I was wrong,…you saved me from being ripped in two by that iron demon. You fought hard for us against Kaz-Mowang, and you didn’t stab me in the back. You nearly died, man, I feel like shit for ever thinking you were a traitor.”

Kyembe spread his arms, shrugging easily. “Did you attack me or try to cast me away? Did you not bother to come to my aid? Did you deny me my rightful share of gems?”

“Uh, no,” Alex admitted.

“Then your suspicions were those of the mind, and they did not taint your actions. My master, Archwizard K’mark, once told me that one cannot control their thoughts completely: the control lies in how those thoughts are used. I believe the lesson he was teaching me was to cure me of some impulsiveness—which failed utterly, by the way—but they are wise words, all the same.”

He chuckled. “I prattle like an elder sitting by a fire, but all of that was to say I take no offence. We slew demons together, we spit in the teeth of tyrants, and we returned to drink in our camp. My only regret is that we do not have time to get good and properly drunk: an after-battle celebration is not complete unless one wakes up in a ditch or someone’s bed.”

“Hah! Good point,” Thundar laughed. “We’ll have to catch up next time.”

“If paths cross once more, I will hold you all to that.” Kyembe grinned. “Now, I shall seek out Ezerak and find out if he is up for some good and proper drinking.”

“Good idea, and I wish I could join you,” Alex chuckled. “What about…you being on the run? You need any help with that?”

“Oh, bah!” Kyembe waved a hand. “I have escaped guards’ clumsy pawing up until now, and my trail will have long grown cold. I can see my way out of their empire. Though…” His expression turned thoughtful. “I might ask one favour of you.”

“Depends on what it is…” Alex said. “As long as you’re not asking for my soul, I’d be pretty inclined to say yes.”

“It is for your soul.” Kyembe’s face turned grim. “You were right not to trust me.” Silence fell over the mountaintop—before being shattered by the Spirit Killer’s roaring laughter. “Hah! You should have seen your faces! Oh, that will bring laughter to me in cold times for many nights!”

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Ripp breathed out.

“I…was shocked…” Claygon admitted.

“As you were meant to be! But no, the favour is something far simpler.” Kyembe dug a pair of gems out of the sack, then held the rest toward Alex. “Could you hold onto these for me?”

The Thameish wizard looked at him in surprise. “What, why?”

“Because—as you know—I am on the run back in my world.” he said simply. “It is better to travel light. These two gems will be enough to keep me while I flee, but not enough to be an endless tragedy if they were lost. One day, when my position is less compromised, I will come for the rest.”

“I…are you sure?” Alex took the bag. “We might never see each other again.”

“Oh, please, we promised to drink together.” Kyembe clapped the young wizard on the shoulder. “Such oaths are not easily broken between folk of honour. You will find me, or I will find you.”

Alex clapped Kyembe on the shoulder in return. “You take care, man. I really will take you up on that drink. And I’ll hand you the rest of your share when you’re ready for it.”

“You had better.” A twinkle entered the Spirit Killer’s crimson eyes. He extended his fist toward Alex. “Or by the stars, I will be disappointed. So, until we drink together again!” Kyembe’s voice held laughter. “That goes for you too!” He looked at Claygon

The golem gave a grunt of surprise. “I…cannot imbibe liquids.”

“That changes nothing!”

With fist bumps to Ripp, Claygon and Thundar, he turned and followed Ezerak up the mountain.

Alex watched the knife-lean swordsman ascend the path with smooth, confident steps. His form shrank into the distance until it was a shadow standing before the door of Whetstone.

That tiny form gave a final wave.

In the distance, Alex caught the glint of his ring in the light of the morning sun.

At last, Kyembe slipped through the door of the tavern.

“Odd thing he said,” Ripp wondered out loud. “He said that Whetstone dumps you back into your own world. Think he’s talking metaphorically, or is he one of those Many Orbs Believers or whatever?”

Alex froze, giving Thundar a startled look.

His mind started racing, thinking on how fast he could run up the mountain and find out exactly what Kyembe knew.

But, when he looked back to the summit…

…the Whetstone Tavern was gone.

Leaving no trace on the mountaintop.

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