The Ruby Guardian

Velati shrugged. 'Not sure,' he said as he dumped the armload of roots to the ground at the older man's feet. 'Wherever we are, there's no one else around,' he added, settling onto the ground next to Kovrim.

Kovrim closed his eyes and took several long, slow breaths, still feeling weak from his ordeals. His stomach rumbled, a typical aftereffect of magical healing. He eyed the tubers eagerly, almost not even caring that they were still raw and dirt-covered.

No, he admonished himself. Must cook them first, or you'll be squatting in the bushes for the rest of the day.

'Do you have any water?' Kovrim asked the soldier, noting ruefully that his own waterskin had apparently vanished.

'Yes, sir,' Velati replied, handing a nearly bulging skin over. 'Drink up.'

Kovrim took the skin gratefully and tipped it to his mouth, drawing several large mouthfuls and gulping them down. The liquid, though warm, did almost as much to soothe the priest's discomfort as the healing draught had. Finally, he handed the skin back to Velati with a nod.

'So, how did we get here?' Kovrim asked the younger mercenary. 'Where are the rest of the Crescents?' Surely they didn't all go down with the ship, he thought, remembering the tentacles and feeling cold in the pit of his stomach. 'Where is Vambran?' The fact that he and the young man appeared to be alone on the stretch of beach worried the priest. Then he shook his head, dismissing his pessimistic notions.

Vambran can take care of himself, Kovrim thought. He doesn't need me to look out for him.

Velati shrugged then said, 'Lieutenant Matrell gave the order to drink our water-walking potions, and the ship was being ripped apart by that… that thing.' He shuddered then seemed to regain his composure. 'I got thrown into the water when Lady's Favor split in half, and you splashed into the drink near me, out cold. I heard the order to retreat, but there were two ships between us and shore, so I hid both of us among some debris until no one was watching, and I began to drag you away from the fight. I had to swing wide of the area to avoid the pirates, and about halfway to shore, the magic of the potions wore out.' At that point in his tale, the young man looked forlorn. 'I had to remove your breastplate and let it sink, sir,' he said ruefully. 'I'm terribly sorry, but it was the only way I could keep us both afloat after that'

Kovrim gave the young man a half smile and waved away the apology. 'You did fine,' he said, though he lamented the loss of the enchanted armor, for it had served him well in campaigns many seasons before, and he had grown quite fond of it.

Nothing to be done about it now, he thought. And I'm alive, so no sense making the lad feel worse than he already does. I just pray that Vambran and the others made it to shore, too. It's a long coastline, and the tide is strong; they're probably just farther along, out of sight somewhere.

'So you swam to shore and pulled me along with you?' Kovrim asked, changing the subject. He was genuinely impressed with the younger man's prowess.

'Yes, sir,' Velati replied, beaming. 'I was almost done for by the time we reached the shallows. It's a good thing it wasn't rocky along this stretch of coast, or we might both have wound up feeding the fish.'

Kovrim nodded, rubbing his chin. 'Well, we've got to try to find the rest of the men, soldier,' he said, rising to his feet. 'No time for eating right now, though those tubers look mighty tasty. Bring them along, though, and we'll see if we can't enjoy them later.'

The priest was on the verge of squatting down beside the younger man to help him gather up the food when he saw movement in the distance. He turned in that direction, farther along the beach, and noted several men approaching. In the bright sunlight, it was clear that they were soldiers, though they were not members of the Order of the Sapphire Crescent. Kovrim could not distinctly make out the insignia, but he did not like the look of things.

'Velati,' he said as the men spotted him and began to fan out in an obvious maneuver of hostility. The younger man stood up and turned his attention in the direction Kovrim was looking then sucked in his breath. Kovrim began to count figures moving toward them and realized there were at least a dozen. Beside him, Velati pulled his sword free of its scabbard.

'Easy, son,' Kovrim said, placing a hand on his companion's arm to calm him down. 'There are too many of them,' he said. He could feel the younger man's muscles tense and relax as he slipped the blade down again.

'Yes, sir,' Velati said dismally.

The enemy soldiers closed the distance and moved to flank Kovrim and Velati, several of them with bows and crossbows out and ready. By that point, the priest could see that the insignia on their uniforms was of a silver raven. He did not recognize it, but he certainly understood that they viewed the two Crescents as potential threats.

'Throw down your arms!' one of the men called out, gesturing at Kovrim and Velati.

Kovrim spread his arms wide to show that he was not attempting to threaten his foes. His crossbow had never made it out of his room when Lady's Favor had been attacked, and he carried no other weapons.

Beside him, Velati stiffened again, yanking his blade free in a rush and taking a single, sudden step forward.

'No!' Kovrim shouted, trying to stop the younger man from his foolishness, but the priest wasn't fast enough. He heard the unmistakable twang of several bows firing, and right before him, three missiles lodged in Velati's chest. The young man jerked and stumbled as Kovrim flinched away, fearful that he, too, would be struck by overly eager bowmen. No shots hit him, though, and he turned back to see Velati lying facedown, blood pooling beneath his twisted, still form.

'Damn you!' Kovrim shouted, moving over to where the younger man lay. 'Velati!' he shouted, gingerly turning the young man onto his back. Velati's eyes were wide with pain, but he still breathed. Sighing in relief, Kovrim looked up at his potential captors, more specifically at the man who had ordered their surrender. 'I'm going to heal him, nothing more,' he said, reaching in his tunic for the symbol of Waukeen he kept on a chain around his neck. 'I'm no threat to you,' he said carefully, hoping the other man would understand.

The soldier eyed Kovrim warily and motioned for him to hold. 'No,' he said, shaking his head. 'You will come with us.'

'But he's going to die!' Kovrim shouted, furious. 'I'll disarm him first, if that's what you want, but you can't let him perish for one foolish, youthful mistake.'

'He made his choice, and now you must make yours, old man,' the soldier said, scowling. 'If you do anything other than stand up and surrender to us right now, you will be left here to die, too.'

Stunned, Kovrim eyed the other soldier, refusing to move. He couldn't believe that a mercenary would be so callous as to let another soldier die, enemy or not. The code of war that most companies in the Reach fought by precluded such barbarous acts. 'You can't mean it,' he said at last, watching the man's face for some sign of his real intentions.

'I do, and we will,' the soldier replied. 'Now stand up. It's your last warning.'

Kovrim shook his head, still unwilling to leave Velati to bleed to death. The young man's breathing had grown more rapid and shallow, and it was becoming moist. There wasn't much time left.

At that point, another soldier standing next to the leader who had been speaking moved next to his companion and whispered something in the man's ear. The speaker jerked his gaze around to look at the second fellow and shook his head, and there seemed to be a quick argument. Finally, the second mercenary shrugged and moved back to his spot as the speaker scowled for a moment.

'I've changed my mind,' the speaker said at last. 'You will hold perfectly still while my men search your companion and rid him of any weapons. Only then will you be allowed to heal him. But if I sense even one false move on your part, if I see the barest hint of you casting your magic at me or any of my men, you'll be sporting so many arrows that you'll look like a seamstress's pincushion. Do you understand?'

Kovrim nodded and rocked back on his heels, motioning for his captors to do their work quickly. He sat very still as the men surrounding him drew beads on him. Two soldiers trotted forward, removed Velati's sword from the young man's grasp, and tossed it well out of reach. They did the same with a pair of daggers and they thoroughly searched Kovrim. Once they were satisfied that neither mercenary had anything more hidden, they stepped back.

Kovrim gave the leader an expectant glance, one eyebrow raised. The other man nodded once, and the priest moved close to Velati and began to pray, his hands roaming over the wounds, the arrows and bolts still imbedded in