Solo Lost and Found

[Sybel]

51st Day of Winter, 512 AV

Sybel rode hard toward the Wildlands, plunging into the verdant darkness of the trees. Adarin had been quite short with her, only giving her the basics on who and what she was instructed to bring back. Earlier in the week, a very suspicious looking Eypharian had entered the Denvali Quarter bearing a piece of merchandise he intended to sell. At the time, she’d thought nothing of it, most likely scrollwork or something equally mundane. But the dealings had gone sour very quickly and after gold was exchanged, the man had fled with his end of the bargain. Adarin was not a fan of non-Denvali, a fact he’d made abundantly clear from the start. But Sybel was no tracker, either. Finding the culprit would prove to be difficult from footprints alone, especially given the traffic Zeltiva saw daily. It was like looking for a needle in a very overpopulated, impoverished haystack.

Still, she knew the wilderness. She’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime or two. The man was likely to make a fire at night, staving off the nighttime chill. From there, she had a shot. All she had to do was look for shoddy stealth-work and the spark of flame. Her horse Eplah whickered lightly, sensing her rider’s anxiety. ”It’s alright,” she crooned, slowing to a walk. ”We’ll get him. He couldn’t have gotten very far.”

She combed the forest, leading her mount mostly on foot. Every cracking twig set her on edge. Birds burst through the underbrush with a flutter of wings, nearly giving her a coronary each time. Feeling over stimulated, she drove deeper into the woods. He’d be long gone if she didn’t find him somehow, and that would cost her gold she desperately needed. Too much travel had taken a toll on her purse. All of those ruins she’d picked through had earned her nothing. There was too much given and too little gained. If she didn’t find the guy soon, she’d be boiling her own shoes for soup stock.

As night fell, she was amazed at how the forest always changed. Life stopped it’s incessant chattering and eased into restful darkness. It struck her as beautiful, every time. Sighing to herself, she readied to make camp with what little she had. It’d take some firewood, so she tethered Eplah to a tree and got to gathering. Deadwood was easy to find, as it was pretty much everywhere and it burned well. She moped around, collecting what she could before returned to her makeshift campsite.

When she saw him, she nearly dropped the armful of logs. The man looked worse for wear. He approached Eplah, eyes shifting from side to side. He meant to steal her horse, that rotten bastard! The mare recoiled from his outstretched hands, unable to get far due to her harness. She whinnied desperately.

”Easy,” he crooned. ”Easy, now. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Very slowly, she lowered her wood to the ground before placing a hand on the hilt of her blade. It was never easy, plotting to kill a complete stranger. If she was lucky, it wouldn’t come to that. Sybel took a short step, her foot landing on a brittle twig. He spun around, alert. ”Who’s there!?”

Petch. She had no stealth whatsoever. This time, she watched her feet and the man simultaneously, attempting to avoid branches. He looked all around for a little while before returning his attention to the horse he was about to steal. From the looks of it, the satchel he wore could very easily be the home to her prize.

[Sybel]

The hard part was getting into the little clearing without announcing herself. It seemed every little move she made generated a great deal of noise. It was hard not to think of Aello and her sinuous grace, moving on silent feet through the woods. If only she’d asked her to show her the way… She wouldn’t be in this mess. Then again, this was the same girl who saved her from a mountain cat. It would have been ungrateful to ask for much else, given that she was a total stranger.

When the Eypharian finally undid the tether, Sybel knew she was out of time. As evenly as she could, she intoned: ”Excuse me sir, but I do believe you mean to take my petching horse.” She thrust herself into the clearing, meaning to take him off-balance.

Everything went to hell from there.

The horse, newly freed, reared up and kicked the man squarely in the chest. Sybel ran forward and in the process, nearly got kicked too. The man fell back, all six arms flailing, his satchel falling to the earth. She’d staggered back. Eplah looked ready to bolt. If she didn’t grab the purse, she’d be screwed but if she didn’t grab her horse, she’d be screwed. Out of options, she went for the man, putting her sword to his throat as Eplah took off into the trees.

”You son of a…” She sighed. This was a bonafide mess. She could find her horse, provided she didn’t stumble across one of Mizahar’s countless predators. It was shaping up into a wonderful day. ”Look, I’m pissed off and ready to spill some blood so before you even open your mouth, I want you to first consider that. Now, where are the goods and why in the petch are you still wandering around here?”

He gaped at her. ”Answer me. Where. Are. The. Goods?”

”Easy,” he said, the words coming out in a tumble. ”I’m sorry, don’t kill me! I don’t have them anymore.” She blinked. ”You what?” She stared at him in disbelief. ”You don’t what?!” She pressed her steel against his throat, a faint trickle of blood beginning to seep. ”Please!” He urged. ”Oh gods…”

”You’re telling me that I just lost my horse and potentially my paycheck and you expect me not to kill you?” He smiled a sheepish smile. ”Well, yes. Who else can lead you to them?”

She grimaced. This was going to be a long night. ”You better elaborate before I cut out your windpipe.”

”Okay, okay! Look, I was just the bagman. I had no choice. I’m wanted in Ahnatep for some… It doesn’t matter. Just hear me out. I had to, I’m telling you. Some thugs cornered me and told me that if I didn’t help them, they were gonna ship me back.”

”Uh-huh.”

He squirmed. ”So – so, I had no choice.” It was like trying to pry the pearl from an oyster. ”Right, so you said. So pray tell, where are the thugs and why exactly did they think it wise to mess with Adarin? Even the village idiot knows better.” She pressed the blade just a bit more firmly. ”Okay! Gods forgive me… They call themselves the Puppeteers, because they like to pull the strings. I know it’s a stupid name, so don’t look at me like that. Anyway, they try to be aware of local bounties and such so when they find people like me, they can avoid the heavy lifting. Most of them are like you, just mercenaries looking for gold.” She arched a brow.

”They told me they’d dress up some broken up statuette and pass if off as some Denvali piece of crap. Adarin would bite, we’d meet and then they’d back me up for the escape. It all worked, too. Except the part where they left me to die out here and took it all for themselves. They told me they would make me one of them, so I would never have to see Ahnatep again. I’d be free.”

”And you believed them… Why? Because so far, they seem like such nice guys.” She snorted.

”I didn’t okay! Which is why I’m going to take you to them. You’ll get the dumb statue and the gold and we’ll call it even.” She moved the sword to his nether regions and he winced.

”If you betray me, I am going to cut this off.” She leered at him. ”Do you understand?”

He nodded briskly.

[Sybel]

The walk was tense, the Eypharian taking lead. She still didn’t bother with his name. Sybel was far too annoyed to even care. The Puppeteers numbered five altogether, a force too great to be met head on. They were camped a few miles north, just off the road. But before they’d do anything, she had to find her horse.

She called her for about a bell and was on the verge of decapitating the chattering prisoner when she heard hooves resound in the distance. Frozen in place, she called out again, a special call reserved only for Eplah. When the sleek mare broke through the trees, a wave of relief washed over her. ”See? I told you we’d find her.” She gave the man a withering look.

”Okay. Now, here’s what we’ll do.” As she rounded up the horse, she began to outline the plan. He drew a layout of their encampment in the dirt. ”Since you got me into this whole thing, you’ll be the bait. It seems to be your niche.” He groaned. ”You’ll act all pitiful and beg for them to take you in. Tell them you haven’t got a bob. They’ll tell you to go hang yourself, which you honestly should.” This time, he grumbled. ”I know, not very nice but you should honestly consider your options. Anyway, you keep nagging at them until they chase you off. You seem swift enough, provided you’re running for your life. That should give me enough time to come in from the side here,” taking his stick, she indicated the side of the camp.

”I’ll dash in here,” she outlined where she’d be entering. ”This is where you said the leader stays. He should have gold aplenty on top of what he got from Adarin, so I’ll take it by the handful and we’ll meet up here.” She indicated to the north. ”Just run a wide circle and keep the moon always in sight. If you get lost, I can’t help you. When they see they’ve been had, they’ll start looking. It’ll be better for us to go where they least expect. After that, I can get us back. I know the layout of Sylira better than Aquiras himself. If we both ride hard, I can get you back to Zeltiva with all your limbs in tact and you can go get a life. Sound good?’

”Do I have a choice?” She grinned. ”Do you ever?”

The next few hours they rode north through the wilderness. He was a poor companion, talking ceaselessly the whole time. Just as he finished the tale of him seducing the nobleman’s daughter, a large pyre came into view. It was their encampment, no doubt. It was likely the whole plan would get riddled with holes by the end. Nothing ever went smoothly. Once they were in plain sight from the trees, they both started to walk.

”Alright. I’m going to take Eplah this way and tether her right there. If you steal her, I will end you. Understand?” He smiled. This was bad, alright. She hated working with strangers, especially ones who pissed her off. It almost always ended poorly. ”Let’s do this.”

She very slowly, moved in a circle toward the flank. They were keeping watch, which was to be expected, so she proceeded with caution. The cover of darkness was a boon. Once she was in position, she hooted like an owl.

”What was that?” One of the scarier looking fellows moved toward the sound. ”It’s just an beast, like all the rest. No need to go pissing yourself.” Raucous laughter echoed through the camp. ”Yeah, Xavior. You need a willing woman and a soft bed. You’re hearing things.” This seemed agreeable. ”Right.” He replied warily, edging away.

Just then, a rustling sound caught her eyes and before she knew it, the damned Eypharian had taken her horse. He took flew off into the trees, going south once more. ”Petch,” she hissed. That was the last she was sparing his life.

Lucky for her, the whole camp became alert. ”A beast, huh?” They scrambled for their weapons. ”Looks like we’ve got a very loud beast alright. Let’s get him!” They all ran toward the woods, some taking horses and some going on foot. ”Bet he’s got gold!”

”If he gets my horse killed, I am going to flay him.” Poor Eplah. This was not her best day ever.

[Sybel]

Sybel ransacked through the tent, pocketing all that she could. Her hunch about the gold had been correct, as they had enough to feed all five of them for a season. She couldn’t take it all, but she took what she could and the statue, to boot. At least Adarin would be happy. Well, as happy as he could be. She suspected he smiled about as often as he bathed. Infrequently was an understatement.

Still, she seethed all the while. That Eypharian was going to regret crossing her. Just as she emerged from the tent however, she froze. ”Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” Sybel sighed. Why couldn’t it ever just go smoothly? ”A very original statement?” She replied, turning to face what had to be the leader. He was a non-descript looking fellow, no more than six feet tall. ”A lost little girl. You found your way to my tent, I see. Find what you were looking for?”

She grinned. ”Can’t say that I did. You see an Eypharian around here?” With a sweeping gesture, she indicated the camp around them. ”He’s not in any of the tents. I believe he owes me some money.” The man laughed. ”You expect me to believe that? I bet he led you right here.” She snapped her fingers. ”Damn. And here I thought that we’d end this little discussion shaking hands.”

He drew his sword. ”You’re pretty cute. I’m going to hold you down and cut those rotten clothes off.” With a silvery peal, her blade came free. ”Oh if wishes were horses…” It seemed to be cliché hour. ”Tell you what. I’ll just remove both your hands. Seem fair?”

They both darted in, the sound of steel against steel ringing through the forest. He was clumsy, which meant none of them were particularly good in a fight. The leader usually controlled by force in small groups, so it was good to know she could take one or two of them if they happened to return. He kept swinging in wide arcs, his longsword easily parried. The noise was bound to call them back if she didn’t finish it soon.

Taking a step back, she moved her sword behind as if to surrender. Seeing his chance, he ran forward, but just on the approached she pivoted with the blade. The end rammed right into his stomach, carried by his own momentum. ”Gotcha,” she cried! He grabbed his abdomen, cursing all the while. ”Sorry about this,” she said as she swung forward, removing his head in one clean swing. ”Dead men tell no tales.”

It really was cliché hour.

Sybel ran back toward the woods on heavy feet, exhaustion taking the upper hand. It was only her pure determination and a few quick stops that drove her onward, toward Zeltiva. By daybreak she was there, cresting the trail into the city. She wanted to fall over more than anything, but there was one last thing she had to do.

[Sybel]

The door to the bar crashed open. All of the patrons froze, mid-drink. One man even poured ale directly into his lap. Sybel stood in the door, fuming, her hair frizzing out in all directions.

”Oh petch.” Before he could even try to escape, she was had him by the throat. ”You lousy, no-good son of a bitch!” Two sets of hands tore at her grip. ”How stupid are you? You took her right to the stables! You didn’t think I would survive, come back and find you?!” He tried to croak out a reply. ”You no good scum! You think just because I’m a woman that I’d get eaten and conveniently taken out? You think I’d just die? I hope you got saddle sores, you smelly, rotten, stupid jackass!” She removed one hand and proceeded to pummel him, over and over again. Everyone watched in astonishment as she beat him half to death.

Once she was through, she looked around. ”What?!”

The spectators turned back to their drinks. She gave a lingering look around the room. ”If you ever, ever steal my horse again, I will feed you to the glassbeaks.” He seemed to be unconscious. It was hard to tell. ”Goodbye.” And with that, she stormed out, eager to deliver the goods and have done with it.

THE END