Theodenes was surrounded by Solamnic Knights.
Once again the Knights’ Hall in North Keep, the capital of Nordmaar, flew the banners of Solamnia. Emblems of the Kingfisher, the Crown, the Rose, and the Sword were arrayed above the hall, unseen for more than ten years. The Knights themselves had returned, as control over Nordmaar had reverted to the young King Shredler Kerian, and old alliances were once again honored.
Theodenes had arrived there on the back of Star, who chose to remain outside in the courtyard while the gnome took care of his business inside. Theo passed rows of statues, of stained-glass windows and suits of armor. All of them were in various stages of cleaning, having been left to gather dust for a decade.
He was admitted into the waiting room, but he was the only one there. Minutes later, the doors to the Grand Council Chamber opened, and he walked in. Beyond the doors, a high table dominated the back of the room, and seated at the table were three lord knights, one each of Crown, Sword, and Rose. Their faces were hidden in darkness, and the only light shone right in Theodenes’ face.
“Theodenes,” said one of the Rose Knights. “We have looked over your report.”
“I have to admit,” said the Crown Knight. “It seems a very far-fetched tale.”
“It is all true,” said the gnome. “Why would I embellish it? Do I look like a kender?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” asked the Sword Knight.
“Every word of it is the truth. I did as you requested and made sure to accompany the sellsword behind enemy lines, kept with him the whole time as much as possible. All that I witnessed, I wrote down.”
The Crown Knight turned to the Rose Knight. “This does agree with the information we were provided by Lord Gilbert Glayward.”
“And Vanderjack never suspected you were working for us the whole time?” asked the Sword Knight.
“I believe he was completely in the dark,” said Theodenes.
“Not even with you showing up in Nordmaar just in time to travel with him?” asked the Crown Knight.
“We … resolved a lot of issues, but no.”
“Magnificent,” said the Rose Knight. “There’s only one part of this that we don’t fully understand.”
“The part near the end,” said the Sword Knight. “About the mercenary’s final fate?”
“The legend that surrounded his sword,” said Theodenes, “explicitly states that once the ninth soul is claimed by the sword, a soul whose time had not yet come and who still had much to live for, the sword will break.”
“But surely Vanderjack didn’t have anything left to live for,” said the Rose Knight. “Unless you count the reward for rescuing the baron’s daughter.”
“Oh,” smiled Theodenes. “Vanderjack had a lot to live for.”
The knights muttered to each other. Finally, the Rose Knight spoke aloud. “Theodenes, we accept your account of the events leading up to the liberation of Nordmaar. However, as we agreed, these details must remain secret.”
“Convenient that everybody in the arena stands can’t remember anything about it,” said the Crown Knight.
“We must praise the gods for their blessings,” said the Sword Knight, placing his palms together.
Theodenes nodded. “Indeed. Well, it’s time I left.”
“Where do you go now?” asked the Rose Knight.
“The Dragon Isles,” said Theodenes. “Star’s going to show me his homeland, and I’ve decided I would rather spend my last years in pleasant company.”
“As you wish,” said the Crown Knight.
Theo bowed, turned, and walked out of the hall.
“Blessings of the gods, indeed,” muttered Theodenes to himself, as he set off to find the dragonne. “All seven of them.”
EPILOGUE
The Journeyman was surrounded by mercenaries.
The newly rebuilt Monkey’s Ear tavern floated above the water, safe from dragon’s fire, and boasting a larger common room. The tables were new, the ale was fresh, and the patrons were eager enough to test it.
The Journeyman set down his own tankard and tossed a coin into the middle of the table. “It’s time I went.”
“But it’s early yet!” said one of the Brass Tigers.
“Yes, come on, Etharion,” said another. “Vand and Gredchen will be returning soon from Willik. They say we have our first contract. You don’t want to miss out on that, do you?”
“You know I’m not really a very good cook,” the Journeyman said. “And besides, I’ve overstayed my welcome here in Nordmaar. Vand and Gredchen already know I’m leaving.”
“But no good-byes?” said the first Brass Tiger. “After all, you’re family, aren’t you?”
The Journeyman smiled. Vanderjack and Gredchen had taken the last name Cordaric, in honor of him, but passed him off as a cousin. Nobody knew their true identities. Vanderjack and Gredchen didn’t know his.
The others clasped hands with him and nodded; he felt a sudden pang of regret, a desire to stay there with his new family. But he had more places to go, things to chronicle.
It was a shame he couldn’t tell Stella when he returned that he had known her grandfather and grandmother. Nor, he thought, could he tell her he knew everything there was to know about being a ghost.
Next time, he thought as he let the door of the Monkey’s Ear close behind him, I would prefer to stay among the living. It was just easier that way.
On his way to the nearest out-of-the-way alley, he passed by the Temple of Branchala, with its familiar stone idol of a winged dragon-tiger, and looked down upon the street of temples and gods.
“That is, if it’s all the same to you,” he said.
There was no answer. But in his head, he was certain he knew what their response would be.
