GODSWAR: The Spear of Athena, Chapter 4

Well, they had a destination...

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Chapter 4.

"Ingram, have you taken leave of your senses?" Captain Pennon snapped. "If you are going back to Aegeia, we go with you!"

"No, you do not!" Urelle saw the tension in Ingram's whole body as he kept his gaze locked on Pennon's. He's confronting the Captain of the Clan; I can't imagine how hard this is for Ingram, so soon after finding out that he wasn't the humiliating failure he thought he was.

But it was his place to do this, and Urelle and the others had known it was coming for almost the entire week since they'd arrived.

"In the name of Athena, why?" Guardian Paschalia asked. "You are four and would set yourselves against Ares? Surely you could use the aid of the Clan, even though we are few." Paschalia's voice was low and earnest; Urelle thought he was still trying to make up for his having accepted the deceptions surrounding Ingram's competence.

"Three reasons," Ingram said, looking around the Vantage's large sitting room. He raised one finger. "First, what little we know about this prophecy or whatever points to it being us, not any of you. Which of us, we're still not clear on, but somehow I am involved, and at least one of the others. We are supposed to confront or stop Ares somehow. You are not in that category.

"Second," he went on, elevating a second finger and cutting off any protest, "We already know there's more of the Clan inside Aegeia – or there should be. If there isn't, I will not risk the whole Clan. Some of us must remain outside to be a last hope and nucleus of a liberation force, if the worst happens. And since I can't stay, you, Captain, and all your forces, are the obvious choice."

Pennon's normally cheerful face looked like she'd bitten into a puckerfruit, but she finally nodded. "That… makes sense. I hate to admit it, but it makes sense. So, what's your third reason?"

Ingram hesitated, and she sensed a trepidation, as of someone about to do something they had never dared do before. "The third…" He swallowed audibly, then took a breath and straightened up – though his diminutive size made that an unimpressive gesture. Still, he met Pennon's gaze once more. "The third reason is that you'll slow us down, Captain."

Pennon opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, then just stared incredulously at Ingram. "Slow… you… down?"

"Slow us down," Ingram repeated, though there was still a tremor in his voice. "We have to face the truth. The Clan was close to being wiped out when the four of us came in and proceeded to wipe out your enemies in a few moments – enemies that had been chasing you a long ways." He looked around the small circle of Camp-Bels. "There is not one of you, even the Captain, who could take on Lady Victoria or Quester, and I don't think you could take me or Urelle, either. I hate to say it so bluntly, Captain, but we would be spending time worrying about you, time and effort we can't afford."

Pennon stared at him for long moments. Then she chuckled. The chuckle turned to a laugh, and the laugh to a roar that doubled her over with mirth, left her gasping for breath before she could finally recover, leaning against the paneled wall for support. "Ohhh… Ahh, Ingram, forgive me, I do not laugh at you, but at myself. At us. The Camp-Bels, the proud defenders… who needed rescue at the hands of the one we had deceived. Who truly – as you say – has no need of us to defend him, or his friends."

Paschalia, too, had laughed, with a twist of sadness in his smile. "It's a hard truth to swallow for those of us who were as deceived as you were, Ingram. But… aye, I saw those you felled, and read clearly the way in which you slew them. It was something I could not have done, nor, I think, even the old Captain, let alone – no offense! – our new Captain Pennon."

A snort. "No offense taken, Pas. He was the best of us, by far. But you are likely right. You have grown even past where you were when you left, Ingram, and taken yourself beyond our ability to protect." She grew more serious and looked to Paschalia. "And he made an excellent point. We are very few. We do not know if the rest of the Clan in Aegeia will survive. It is our duty to remain here and build our strength; there are those we can protect and assist in the greatest of cities, indeed, and from those we will find others to test, to train, to become part of the Clan."

She gave the same two-stage salute with her arms that Berenike used, first crossing her arms in an X on her chest, then rotating them to stand upward on either side. "Travel swiftly and well, Ingram Camp-Bel, and may the Lady's Wisdom guide you, the Lady's Shield protect you, and the Lady Herself be beside you in battle."

Ingram returned the salute, and bowed as well. "Captain, I thank you for understanding," he said, and Urelle could see that behind his formal words his eyes were bright with tears, for this which was not just acceptance, but true and unquestionable respect from the Clan he had loved and felt outcast from for so long. "The Lady's Wisdom guide you all, and her Spear go before you in battle, as her Shield wards you from all harm."

Then he flung his arms around Pennon, whose eyes went wide and then misty, as she returned his embrace. "Well spoken, Ingram," she said quietly. "And once more, the apologies and the love of the Clan are yours. You are not Captain… but in this you have the right, and the duty, to command us. Go, then, all four of you, and may the Father of the Gods himself walk with you on this mission."

*******

"Okay, Urelle, that's just showing off."

She looked over and grinned at Ingram. "What?" she asked, in an overly-innocent tone.

He pointed down. "You're flying one inch above the road?"

"I think it looks really mysterious and… what was it the Wanderer said… cool, that was his word."

"Okay, it looks… interesting, maybe." Ingram's tone was snippy. "But isn't that a huge waste of effort?"

Well, Balance, I do something I think is fun and this is the way he reacts? She opened her mouth to snap back, then suddenly realized what was bothering him. "I know it was hard to just leave them behind, Ingram. But please don't snap at me for it."

He blinked, looked angry for an instant, then visibly choked back a response. After a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly out.

Good, Nest-brother, she heard. I am glad neither I nor Victoria had to intervene and put some sense into your head.

"Sorry." Ingram bowed to her as they walked. "I still wish they could have come with us."

Aunt Victoria raised her eyebrow. "They would have if you had given them the slightest opening, young man."

"I know, I know! I was the one who told them they had to stay behind and made them accept it."

And that, Urelle thought to herself, was one of the hardest things I think he's ever done. I know he wanted the Camp-Bels with him. But he was right. "You were right, Ingram. You really were. If any of us thought otherwise, you know we'd have said something, right?"

He smiled, then reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze that sent a tingle through her. "Yes. Yes, of course, you all would have."

A gentle rain was falling as they walked along the Great Road, keeping towards the southern side to allow larger traffic – like the big trade wagon pulled by eight riding lizards – to pass unimpeded. From beneath her travel hood Urelle looked back to the West, seeing somewhat lighter clouds that hinted at better weather in an hour or so.

"How far is it to Salandar?" she asked.

"About six hundred miles, more or less," Victoria answered. "The average person, in decent health, would do that in about thirty days. With our particular advantages, I would expect to cut that to twenty days."

"A shame we could not all fly there," Quester said. "But all the existing air-cruisers went with the army."

"Yes," Urelle said. "And there's no way I could keep us all flying for any great length of time. It's pretty easy to do for myself, but not for anyone who's not a strong mage." Which might include Ingram, based on what I sense from him, but not Auntie or Quester, she thought. It was odd that Ingram seemed to have such strong magic about him, but wasn't, by his own account, trained much at all in magic himself. She really needed to sit down with him and discuss it; giving him even a basic grounding in magic could be a big plus under the right circumstances.

"So," she went on, "does anyone here know any of the Salandaras?"

"I can't say I know any of them," Victoria admitted. "I have, of course, spoken with a few when my friends and I passed through, and roomed there a few times, but none that I would say I know well enough to speak to on such a matter."

"I don't … no, wait, we do, I think," Ingram said, his head coming up suddenly. "Quester?"

"Indeed. Indeed. You know the requirements of the Guild membership, of course, Lady Victoria."

"Indeed."

"Then you recall the final test, which seems so simple, yet I suspect eliminates more than other testings might."

"Oh, indeed, the Examination." Urelle could somehow hear the capitalization, as Victoria looked to her. "At the conclusion of all other testing, the candidate submits to a direct… survey, one might say, of their soul, to verify that they are who they claim to be, that they are uncoerced in any way, that they have sought to be Adventurers of their own free will, and that they have not merely the will but the moral and ethical qualifications to be given the Guild Patch."

"So, every Adventurer has their minds read?" That seemed awfully… intrusive to Urelle, though it obviously made sense to check anyone trying to be an Adventurer awfully carefully.

"Not exactly read," Ingram said. "And soul, not mind. They're not trying to find out your secrets; they're making sure that you won't refuse someone in need, that you aren't carrying an agenda inside you that conflicts with the basic function of Adventuring, I guess is the best way to put it."

"Quite," Victoria agreed, and Quester nodded. "Now, why do you ask, Ingram?"

"Well, we were, um, awfully lucky in our testing. Not only was Toron there to direct the testing, the one who did the Examination was Frederic of the White Robe."

"Oh, my."

Urelle felt her eyes widen. That name wasn't, quite, on a par with the Wanderer's, but it was very much a name to be repeated with respect. "And so Druyar Salandaras…?"

"Was with him, as you would expect," Quester said, a hint of pride in his buzzing voice – and in his warm-spice scent. "In fact, he was the one who presented us with our Guild Patches."

"Not something even a Salandaras is likely to forget, indeed," Victoria said. "That is a stroke of luck. More than you know."

"What do you mean?" Ingram asked, straightening with hope.

"I mean that he is currently The Salandaras, which means that the Freehold is his to ward and watch. If he is present, of course," she went on, her voice cautioning Ingram against too much hope. "He and Frederic are far more Adventurer than they are the sort to stay at home. With the War… they may either have joined the Army of the Dragon, or, just possibly, have returned home to protect their own people. If the latter is the case, we may be fortunate."

Ingram nodded. "Let's hope and pray that is the case. Otherwise," he looked grim, "we'll have to convince people we've never met to break the word they've never broken."