Fool's Errand - Chapter 16

“So is it true?” Nathaniel asked, his face aglow with candlelight. “Have we found the assassin?” This morning was the first opportunity he and Myria had had to meet since her ill-timed hunt, and the Valor commander appeared most eager to learn of any progress she made since they last spoke. Despite having had little contact with him, it seemed rumors of her team’s actions had reached the commander’s ears regardless. Myria hadn’t wished for that to happen until she was fully certain of who it was they’d found, but it was clearly out of her hands now.

Myria paced the other side of their cramped meeting place, her boots resounding heavily upon the neglected stone. Movement often helped her think, and aided in putting her thoughts in order. It helped her now. “Based on the description our lookouts gave, the girl confirmed it,” she informed. “She still wishes to see the man in person of course, just to be absolutely sure. But she appears convinced.”

“And you believe her?”

Such a question made Myria pause abruptly in her steps. It was an appropriate thing to ask, really, and she had expected something like this to be brought up eventually. “I do,” she replied. “She was exceedingly thorough when questioning the reports, and the descriptions appeared to match her memories of him.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Again Myria hesitated, momentarily confused by her commander’s vague correction. Thankfully, she knew Nathaniel’s mind well and so was quick to realize what he had meant. “I believe her,” Myria responded confidently. “Our hunt together proved a lot to me. I trust the girl in this.”

“I see.” Nathaniel’s words came out with a small breath of relief, and stroking his bearded chin, he relaxed. “I’m pleased to see that something good came from your untimely excursion. It is most unlike you to abandon your post without reason; I was surprised to learn of it.”

“It was a mistake made in the heat of a moment,” Myria adamantly confessed. “It will not happen again.”

“As long as an action works toward our cause then I will not consider it a mistake,” Nathaniel said. “Though I failed to mention this to you before, I still had my doubts concerning the girl and was not wholly convinced that she and the assassin were not in league. My duel with her had been inconclusive, and so I remained suspicious. That you could further test her in your own way relieves me of those troubling thoughts.”

“Your duel ended with her treachery,” Myria reminded her commander with a frown, “and still you defended her afterwards regardless, claiming to have a reason. Yet now you admit to having doubts?”

“I did have a reason,” Nathaniel assured, “though, perhaps, I should have explained it to you back then. You have my apologies for that.”

“I would hear such a reason now,” Myria urged, “lest I begin questioning those things I ought not.”

Nathaniel nodded approvingly. “A fair point. Well then, tell me, do you know what it’s like living on the streets, Myria? To grow up in poverty?”

Myria was taken aback by the unexpected question, and remembered rather suddenly to what Nathaniel was alluding. Myria was one of the very few who knew the history of the Valor’s commander; of the young street thief who clawed his way out of destitution that he may change his ways and do better for himself. Though Myria knew only a sparse few details of what had transpired in his younger years, she knew that, in time, the young Nathaniel had come to desire better for those around him and not just for himself. Eventually this birthed a desire in him for the betterment of everyone. Such was the reason why Nathaniel founded the Valor, and why he worked so hard to help his kinsmen. The man was the most altruistic Myria had ever seen, and this was one of the most damning reasons she’d come to love him so.

“So you sympathized with her?” Myria reasoned after remembering Nathaniel’s past.

“In some way, yes,” Nathaniel confirmed. “She was afraid, Myria; afraid that someone was able to match her in strength. On the streets, if you’re not better than your opponents, then you will be robbed or worse. I once held such a fear within me, and so was able to recognize it in her.” Nathaniel paced a few steps away, putting his back toward their singular light. “But my doubts did not stem from her lashing out in fear. No, that girl’s abilities, that’s what truly concerned me.”

“How so?” Myria pressed. In truth, she too had been curious about such things ever since she’d first met Saraya in Meridia. That a meager acrobat had survived an assassin’s attack; there had to be a good reason for that.

“That girl fights like the Whinnari,” Nathaniel explained, turning to face Myria again. “It is that secretive race that developed the fighting style she uses, a style that turns the foe’s attacks into the defender’s own. It is an elegant fighting form and extremely difficult to learn, but highly effective if used correctly. I was never able to use it myself; I lacked the required spirit, or so was told. But I did have the rare opportunity of learning a good way to counter it.”

“Required spirit?” Myria balked. “What Whinnari nonsense is that?”

Nathaniel smiled. “I did not understand it either, but I did not question it at the time. To have a Whinnari teach someone outside their race anything is already gift enough, and not wanting to lose the chance, I didn’t think to argue.” Pausing then, Nathaniel chuckled. “Although, I think what he meant at the time was that I was simply too rigid.”

“Your teacher may have been correct,” Myria commented offhandedly. “You became a soldier after all.”

“That is true. But the reason I’m telling you this is not because of me, but of what it means for the girl. I told you that learning this fighting style is difficult and rare, so I find it odd that a self-proclaimed street performer has mastered it so well. This is what originally led me to think her an assassin like the one you chase. I could fathom no other reason for someone like her to possess such skill other than for nefarious purpose.”

“But you no longer think this the case?” Myria questioned, thinking Nathaniel’s reasoning sound. Given how little they truly knew of the acrobat, such assumptions could well be correct.

“I trust your judgment when concerning a man’s character,” Nathaniel answered evenly. “You have never failed with such advice before and so I believe you now. Even if the girl is indeed a criminal, she has done nothing we are aware of and seems unlikely to do anything while still with us. Truth be told, I have hope that she is indeed a criminal in some respect. Malevolent circles are the hardest for the Valor to breach after all, and if one of their own can advise us on how to proceed against them, then I will welcome the help.”

Such an admission caught Myria by surprise, and all at once she found herself conflicted. Surely the Valor was not so desperate that they would seek out the help of villains, even if there was indeed merit in using the guile of the one they had. With the Honorbounds’ moot swiftly approaching and something foul likely to occur, it was true that they were pressed for time to protect the Mediator and their interests. Using the girl to undermine dark affairs would indeed give them an edge, and Saraya had proven herself trustworthy to Myria in as much as it concerned the Valor’s cause. But Myria did not take comfort in knowing that her hunting partner was in actuality a low-life thug. In fact, she deeply despised it.

“I pray the girl is more like you, if indeed your suspicions are correct,” she stated. “But I stand by what I said: I believe in her.”

“Then we will proceed as intended,” Nathaniel informed her with a nod. “You are heading out with her soon, I take it?”

“We’ve had two more days to pinpoint the assassin’s location since he was first spotted, and we believe we have discovered a place he often frequents. The girl and I will wait for him there and decide how to proceed if he shows.”

“Then I wish you the luck of Iialu that your quest proves successful,” Nathaniel said. “I will await your report upon return.”

Myria saluted Nathaniel with the customary hand over her heart. “As you command,” she replied. She then turned to leave through the way she came: through a drainage tunnel on the other side of the room.

“You look happier, Myria,” Nathaniel commented suddenly, causing Myria to stop. “I thought to mention it earlier, but I think time with the jester has done you some good.”

“Has it?” Myria answered thoughtfully, considering if this was true. “If so, then perhaps it is because the girl respects me as a Slayer. I had thrown away that prestige for anonymity long ago, back when I first joined the Valor. The girl reminds me of what it once felt like to be looked at in such a way, and how much I miss it.”

“Do you ever regret leaving it behind?” Nathaniel asked, his voice sympathetic and sincere.

“No,” Myria told him honestly. “I do not regret it, because I know I’ll have it again. I just need to attend to the Valor’s mission first. It is the more important for us all.”

Nathaniel nodded. “Your resolve is truly something to be admired, Myria. Be sure to let the men see that shine within you. It will give them hope.”

Myria nodded once and saluted again before she excused herself. Truthfully, she would have been happy to spend more time with Nathaniel, but she couldn’t afford to linger here. There was still somewhere important she had to be.

Saraya awaited Myria’s return within the drinking hall of the tavern, lounging back within a chair balancing precariously on two legs, with her feet propped up high on the back of another. She could recline like this now that a few days had passed since her duel with that Valor man, and because she had returned from a real hunt with a trophy to prove it. Hunting a brood wolf, it seemed, had earned her a little respect, but only enough that it helped erase her prior offense of a dishonorable battle. The way it appeared, most now considered her past transgression a simple show of arrogance from an inexperienced upstart, and though untrue, the assumption served Saraya’s purpose nonetheless.

If nothing else, Saraya could at least show her face in the common room again, and this suited her well enough. After all, as much as she may have wanted to, Saraya couldn’t allow herself to perform here in the tavern, as that would only attract unnecessary attention. This meant that she had to play the role of young hunter instead, and so it was all she needed to be able to come out of her room and sit in peace.

Alter asked with a sneer. She always did wear her foul intentions on her sleeve.

“Of course not,” Saraya replied, her voice hushed so to not be overheard. “If we approach this wrong, we’ll lose our chance to actually confront him. If he’s truly a professional, then his agenda will be more important than any personal vendetta, and something’s going on here that we don’t yet know about. Besides, trying to kill him outright will betray Myria’s trust in us, and we need that right now more than anything else.”

Alter remarked with a scoff.

“I assure you I will carry out our mission one way or another,” Saraya replied evenly in a whisper. “I’ve just…got to do it in a way that feels right.”

Alter grumbled under her breath like a growl, but she said nothing more after having uttered it.

Saraya ignored Alter and glanced toward the doors of the Claw and Scale as they swung open then, looking to see if it was Myria who had returned. A hearty cry of greeting went up from one of the distant tables instead, where those there had recognized the small group of arriving hunters. Saraya watched the companions combine with an exchange of typical greetings: slaps on the back, punches to the arm, rib-crushing hugs, and handshakes. She then sighed to herself and looked up at the ceiling. After what she had to do for Veil, she hoped the circus would welcome her back just as warmly.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Several more minutes rolled by, and the next time the door opened the red-haired noble made her entrance. Upon notice, the acrobat jumped up immediately to welcome the woman back, something she’d gotten into the habit of doing ever since their hunt. “Did everything go well?” She asked once the Slayer was near enough to speak, knowing that their affairs were meant to be kept private.

“It did,” Myria answered, “and we’ve been given leave to proceed as planned. If you’re ready, then I intend to leave promptly.”

“I’ve been ready,” Saraya sighed, making certain to sound as exasperated as she felt. “I want nothing more than to get this guy off my back. It’s the whole reason I came with you in the first place.”

“Then let us be off,” Myria said. “I should like to be there well before the appointed time.”

“That would be good,” Saraya agreed, “but you should relax a bit before we get there, or the assassin will be able to sense your tension.”

Myria frowned, but seemed to take Saraya’s advice seriously this time, as she didn’t scoff or glare like she normally would have before. This recent change within the Slayer had come as another result of their hunt together, as the woman had been more inclined to listen to Saraya ever since that day. Of course, the acrobat wasn’t sure if this was because Myria was learning to trust her, as it could simply be that the woman wanted to capture the assassin and so was finally resigned to listen. Either way, Saraya was glad to be receiving less of the Slayer’s scorn, and talking with Myria had also become a more pleasant experience of late.

“I still think you give the assassin too much credit,” Myria stated, “as such a level of perception seems beyond his reach. But if you advise it, then I will attempt to do as you say for our success.”

“Then we’ll be fine,” Saraya assured, pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head. “After all, you tracked him all that time before without being caught.”

“I did, yes, but I doubt it is what you think.”

The admission made Saraya pause, and she furrowed her brow, now slightly concerned. “Maybe not,” she began, “but it really doesn’t change what I said regarding today. If you keep your intentions hidden as well as your face, then you’re far more likely to move about undetected. He may know what you look like, but he doesn’t know you, so don’t give him any hints that could give you away.”

“What about you then?” Myria replied. “You stand out far more than I do in every possible way.”

Saraya smiled devilishly and tugged her hood a little lower. “You vastly underestimate my ability to vanish when I need to.”

Myria gave Saraya a strange look that the acrobat couldn’t quite discern, before doing as Saraya had done and pulling up her hood. Unfortunately, the woman possessed only a high-collared white cloak to match her current attire, and Saraya knew that it would make Myria stand out a bit within a crowd. But given Myria’s noble visage, anything less would have only made her stand out even more, and so they had no choice but to make it work. Thankfully, their appointed place of contact was within the city’s high quarters, where noblemen and rogues alike would often mingle in large quantities.

Tarrying no longer, the two left the tavern together and made straight for the quickest route to their location. Myria’s knowledge of the city was a boon for such traversal, and not too many minutes into their journey were they pulling away from Neurial’s towering buildings of stone and into a clearer space. This place where they intended to hover was a spacious intersection, a wide area between the spires where a number of Neurial’s main streets converged. Within this widest of Neurial’s roads many a cart and carriage were being led, guided though by tethered beasts and their accompanying coachmen. Surrounding them like crisscrossing streams were several unending lines of foot traffic, the people sometimes pressing so close that they nearly missed being trampled. Several brazen souls had chosen to set up shop in the middle of all this madness, and an open market of collapsible stands had sprung up in a heap wherever there was room.

Saraya and Myria avoided these, pressing through as best they could without drawing too much attention from the surrounding hawkers, and made instead for the grandiose fountain at the very center of it all. This centerpiece of the commercial square was a colossal dragon spewing water into a surrounding basin, with four figures standing at each of the fountain’s four cardinal directions. Each of these statues was a Slayer, for each carried an imposing weapon and adorned a chiseled set of rugged armor. At the foot of the fountain several people had gathered to sit upon the basin’s ledge, and the children there were dipping fingers into the rippling pool.

With a relaxed sigh, Saraya spun on her heels and plopped down on a clear bit of the basin’s edge. Unlike the chilly weather of a few days prior, today was balmy with a brilliant, blinding sun, and that sun could hit them now that they’d left the cover of the tallest towers. It was warm enough that Saraya would have preferred to leave her heavy fur cloak back at the tavern if she’d had the choice, but alas it was all she had to hide her performer’s stripes. At least with the fountain at her back she felt a little cooler for the running water, but beneath the direct rays of the sun she was still uncomfortable.

“I’m going to melt in this thing,” Saraya muttered under her breath, and silently she wished that she’d thought to pack a lighter cloak like Myria had.

“Complaining already?” Myria quipped as she too approached the fountain, her gaze going from Saraya to the tall stone figure she sat beside.

“Only in as much that I may die from this heat,” Saraya exaggerated. “I wouldn’t normally wear this cloak in weather like this.” Expecting Myria to have some witty retort, Saraya waited, but it never came. Instead, Myria only gave her an understanding nod before going back to observing the people surrounding the fountain.

“There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she then started suddenly, “and now that I’ve seen you to possess some hunting skill, I no longer consider what happened a mere fluke.” Turning her eyes down, Myria gazed thoughtfully into the swirling water within the basin. “The lao; what did you do to make it retreat?”

“Ashen blood,” Saraya breathed as memories of that horrid event came flooding back. “I’d nearly forgotten all about that! I’d just assumed that you didn’t realize it was me.”

“I knew,” Myria confirmed, “I just hadn’t the time to ask, nor a situation where it felt appropriate to discuss. I am curious, however, to know what happened then.”

“Nothing that special,” Saraya admitted casually. “I just happened to have a bit of powdered venom from a peppered frill-neck. Dangerous stuff if it hits you in the eyes and nose.”

“That does certainly explain the lao’s fierce reaction. But such a substance is hard to come by, so how did you possess it?”

Alter warned, but Saraya chose to explain regardless.

“I pinched it off a Hound,” she informed, receiving Myria’s frown thereafter. “Don’t look at me that way. You know how vile those people are, and he deserved far more than that for what he tried to do to me.” She purposefully didn’t conclude her tale, leaving Myria to deduce his crime. “I’ve seen enough to know what that powder does to people, so I figured it would work just as well on a lao.”

Saraya watched Myria’s face as she puzzled on this a moment. “You should not have wasted the resource,” she said eventually.

“Yes I should have,” Saraya countered. “If I’d not, you would have broken your arm. And I think you’ll deal with the assassin far better if you have two good arms instead of one.”

Again Myria stopped to consider something, though Saraya couldn’t guess as to what. “Yes,” the women eventually concluded, though spoke her admission slowly. “Yes, I suppose I would.”

“You see?” Saraya teased, flipping her hand out in jest. “I don’t always make bad decisions. You just happen to keep showing up when I do.”

Myria scoffed at the joke but said nothing to deny it. After having been through so much together, it was possible that the woman agreed. Of course, Saraya would never expect to hear Myria admit it.

Chuckling to her herself, Saraya jumped up from her place on the basin and turned about to look at the statues towering overhead. She was certain that there was some story here, given Cambria’s love of history. “So,” she began, curious to know it, but her words failed her suddenly.

Alter uttered then, her growls filling in for Saraya’s silence.

There, far across the way, beyond the fountain and nearer the shops walked the cowled assassin. In the heat of the day he wore no mask, and so Saraya recognized him instantly. She was certain it was him, even at this distance, for she remembered that arrogant swagger all too well. The memory brought a tension to her hands as they curled into angered fists, and the desire to see the traitor dead coursed through her anew. Quickly, though, she recalled her advice to Myria and forced herself calm again, where then she reached up and grabbed the woman gingerly by the sleeve.

“He’s here,” she muttered quietly while stepping straight into pursuit, her eyes tracking the assassin as he moved blissfully along. Thankfully, Myria was quick to understand and so followed the acrobat’s lead. Though she hadn’t yet seen the assassin, given the reports they had both heard, Saraya was certain Myria would figure out who they were following soon enough.

Thus, with Saraya at the front, they paced around to the far edge of the fountain, walking at a brisk though casual pace that matched the gait of those nearby. But the further on into the crowds they went, the more a distance began to slowly grow between the acrobat and the Slayer. Saraya couldn’t afford to worry about Myria however, not if she wanted to successfully follow her mark. Knowing this, she ducked her head slightly and started wading through the thicker streams of traffic, allowing herself to focus only on tailing while too remaining unseen.

Light on her toes and nimble in her steps, Saraya weaved between the sea of countless bodies, melding into the shadows of those taller than herself so to better hide her form. The assassin she could glimpse easily enough through the crowds beyond her position, well enough that she wouldn’t lose sight of him as long as she kept going. It would have been easier to keep up without the added weight of her cloak, as she had to account for its bulk whenever attempting to slip from place to place. Fortunately, this impermanent market square was loud, packed and terribly busy, which gave Saraya a great amount of leeway for mistakes.

Of course, she had no intention of making such mistakes. Her pride would not allow it. Myria, however, would not have it as easy as Saraya did, and the acrobat had no idea how well the woman would fare slinking through such close quarters. In the small amount of time she’d been tailing him, Saraya had not risked taking her eyes off the assassin, fearing that he would escape from her if given half the chance. As a result, she’d lost track of Myria, and had no way of knowing without looking if the woman was near or not. Saraya spared a glance to know, and spotted her partner not too far back. But the Slayer was not nearly as agile as Saraya was within the shifting bustle, and it was clear that her attempts to move cautiously were also hindering her pace.

Saraya looked ahead again, relocating the assassin in but a moment, and noticed that he had moved away from the center street and out to its distant edge. Out there, the number of people had greatly thinned, allowing for swifter passage, and now unhindered by the crowds, he started moving quicker. In but a minute, the assassin successfully put a fair distance between himself and his pursuers, and without possessing the need to hide, was slowly getting beyond their reach. Saraya had to move faster if she intended to keep up, and without thinking, she instinctually began pressing on at a greater speed.

“Wait,” a whisper came down from behind as a hand fell to Saraya’s shoulder and held her firmly in place. “You’ll leave me behind if you move any faster.”

Saraya paused, glancing away from the disappearing assassin and back to Myria, where then she pulled the woman’s hand gently from her arm. “If I don’t,” she began, “we’ll lose him altogether, and all this will have been for nothing. Please, Myria, trust me with this. I can do it for us both.” Holding tight to the woman’s hand, she hoped Myria would understand. If they allowed the assassin to escape them now, she feared there’d be no other chance.

Myria said nothing, only exhaled softly, and squeezed Saraya’s hand in return before letting go. She nodded, releasing Saraya to do as she needed, and the acrobat moved swiftly to fulfill her role. Without anyone to hover her, Saraya fell into her element completely, skating through those surrounding her as little more than a passing breeze. She guessed at the assassin’s direction and quickly found him again, where then she watched his every motion and reaction while observing him from afar.

It took only a short time for Saraya to recognize what he was doing, as it was something she herself had done so many times before. Stepping under the canopy of a nearby stall, Saraya hid herself in the cloud of consumers while the man conducted his work. The assassin was studying his surroundings, taking in every detail, and when he had finished making his rounds he walked back into the crowded street. Saraya noted where he was going, but chose not to follow after. She had been trailing him for so long already that following him into those empty streets would only further raise his suspicions, and her gut was telling her that the man was wary and that she shouldn’t press her luck.

Alter lamented for them both. Even she knew it was unwise to follow the assassin now.

Saraya waited for a while then within the tumult of the crowd, making sure that the assassin had ample time to get away. Once certain that the man was gone and that she could emerge undetected, Saraya made her way slowly over to the place where he had been standing. This place was at the edge of one of Neurial’s busiest streets, where all other buildings and shops had fallen away. In their place loomed a large cluster of formidable fortresses keeps, all erected on the other side of a grand moat. Saraya didn’t know where she was, and so simply waited here until Myria finally caught up.

“What is this place?” Saraya asked the woman as soon as she approached, knowing that it would be best to explain things immediately.

“This?” Myria began, glancing in the same direction Saraya was. “It is Dragon’s Teeth, the Mediator’s fortress, and the place the Honorbound reside when they come to meet.”

Saraya rolled this information over in her head, and though several thoughts came to her, one stood out above the rest. “Then I know what he’s doing,” she stated flatly. “He was scouting out this place before he headed back into the city.” She turned toward Myria before next she spoke, making sure that woman would be the only one to overhear. “He’s going to make his move on the Springtide, Myria, and he’s going to do it during the opening ceremony.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Myria pressed, skeptical and rightly so.

“Because,” Saraya answered frankly, “that’s exactly what I would do.”