That One Time I Went on a Quest

Cowards

With an impassive face Kathanhiel beckons over me and Haylis.

'Both of you have a right to know who that was,' she says, leaning against the wall with her shoulders hunched forward. 'You need to know.'

'Talukiel the Blade.' The words run from my mouth before they could be stopped. That finger wagging, I remember it now; I've seen it in the arena when I was in that awkward gap between youth and adulthood, and spent what little money I had on tickets to the Games, the tournament in which aspiring knights duel in front of huge crowds...sometimes to the death. It was Talukiel's signature move.

Kathanhiel slowly nods. 'I called him Talu.'

'Who?' Haylis asks with a frown.

I begin. 'Champion of the Games, Royal Marshall, best fencer in the Realms for eight years until...'

'Until I bested him,' Kathanhiel finishes. 'He was my esquire on the Elisaad campaign.'

'Eight years?!' Haylis exclaims. 'How old is this guy?'

I cringe instinctively. Not a good question to ask now Haylis she's not in the mood for this kind of –

But Kathanhiel doesn't seem to mind. 'Older than I, though not by much. I was fourteen when I beat him in an official duel, just that once. Never managed it again.'

Haylis is still wide-eyed. 'How did you get someone like that to be your esquire?'

For a moment the room is silent, then Kathanhiel quietly laughs, joyless and bitter with a manic edge.

'I asked him,' she says, 'and he said yes.'

Their history she tells us only in brief, with a voice indifferent and cold as if none of it concerns her.

Talu had catered to her every need, thrice saved her from the cultists' ambush, and even did the mundane chores like cleaning and cooking without complaint. A master fencer, Champion of the Games, cleaning someone else's plate with a half-dirty rag – imagine that.

There had been no sign that he would flee before the final confrontation with Elisaad. Throughout their journey he had fought dragons and humans alike with skill and – I suppose – bravery. Then something happened. She doesn't specify what exactly, but it must've been a falling out of some sort, because one who had served so loyally for months and months wouldn't just give up like that. There had to be a reason.

Right?

As she speaks of the moment she woke up alone, her voice begins shaking.

'On the crag before Elisaad's lair I woke up alone. His bedroll was cold; he had fled during his watch, hours before. The fool. I was going to tell him that he needn't fear, that I wasn't going to force him to go in with me.' Her eyes lock onto mine. They convey clearer than words that she'll tear open Talu's throat the moment their paths cross again. 'Do you understand that Kastor? I was going to leave him out of it. I was going to go alone.'

I'm suddenly shaking all over. Someone's laughing inside my head, the voice of a cynical old man who looks at the world and sees only ugliness.

You know why you're scared, poor little Kastor? You're scared you'll run away, just like Talu did. What are you, compared to him? You're not good enough to polish his shoes. If even the Champion of the Games fled before the Apex, what chance do you have?

You'll run away, and she'll hate you for it. That look on her face – it'll be reserved for you instead. Kastor, such a coward, such a disappointment, running away. She'll hate you forever.