The return to Pellsglade proved a bit more taxing than Clay had expected.
It turned out that whatever the blade had done to Orn’s foot, it wasn’t repairable by the tools Taylor had available. As a result, he was stuck dragging the man all the way back to Pellsglade, one excruciating stretch of road at a time. The fact that Taylor spent most of the trip pestering him for whatever notes he’d hidden from her, and Orn amused himself by pretending that Clay was his ‘noble steed’ carrying him back to civilization did not help Clay feel any happier about the situation.
The weather did not help things either. While the rain had been kind enough to hold off until they had escaped back to camp, it was not so hesitant when it came to the entire rest of the week. A steady, unrelenting downpour had turned the roads to muck and the wilderness to a series of mudslides and pits. The only person who wasn’t spattered by mud by the end of every day was Orn, and his good cheer was considerably dampened by the fact that they often pelted him with mudballs in revenge. The [Chant] for Pure Touch was used quite a few times to make sure that they didn’t sleep in the same mud they had been tromping through all day.
All told, it took five full days to stagger back into the borders of the village. They were battered, exhausted, and ready to enjoy a moment of rest. Just about the only optimistic thing was the fact that the sky had finally broken through the clouds. The last stretch of road had been one they had walked through had been lit by a warm, bright spring sun. A broad stretch of blue sky, interrupted only by puffy white clouds, spread over their heads.
The warmth had been a relief; Clay had been getting worried about being out in the cold and wet too much. His [Fortitude] should have been able to handle any normal colds or illnesses at this point, but he didn’t want to push it too far by accident.
Pellsglade was a sight for sore eyes, even with the tents set up outside it and the unfamiliar murmur of crowded people inside it. He blinked as they drew closer. Even with the newcomers, the village shouldn’t have been so noisy already. What was happening?
As they drew closer, he saw the villagers gathered in the middle of the village. He suddenly realized what day it had to be, and he turned to look at the adventurers still trailing along in his wake.
Taylor was wearing a satisfied expression, while Orn simply gestured for him to continue with false impatience. Syr Katherine actually smiled, her eyebrow arching a little. “I am glad you did not delay us further, Sir Clay. We might have missed it.”
“Yeah. That would have been… bad.” He looked back at the clearing in the center of the village where the Stone sat and waited. There was already a crowd of nervous [Youths] there, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Rector Semmons was present as well, though his expression soured as he noticed their arrival. Baron Pellsglade immediately worked his way around the mass of people gathered for the ceremony and rushed over to them.
“Heroes! You’ve returned just in time for the Choosing.” He looked at where Orn was hovering over the ground, and a brief flash of confusion crossed his expression. “I trust… you are all well?”
“Well enough, Lord Pellsglade.” Syr Katherine’s voice was cool and impersonal. She was looking past the baron, her gaze fixed on someone else. “We’ve completed our mission to the Dungeon, and the monsters there should be substantially less of a problem in the coming years.”
Baron Pellsglade nodded. A flicker of gratitude went through his expression, along with a little pride as he glanced at Clay. “That is good to hear, Syr Katherine. As always, you are welcome to stay at my home until you are ready to travel back to Crownsguard.”
“Thank you, Baron.”
Clay had followed the direction of her stare during their conversation, and he felt himself go still when he realized exactly who Syr Katherine had found in the crowd. She was wearing her traveling robes already, and there was a suspicious-looking bundle on the ground beside her. Some unfamiliar strangers had been talking with her in low voices, but they fell away as she caught sight of the adventurers.
Olivia saw him looking at her, and she smiled. It was like the sun had come out from the clouds a second time, as he saw all the nervousness, excitement, and determination on her face.
Then Olivia noticed Syr Katherine’s attention, and her smile faded. She stared back at the [Calculator] for a moment. Her chin rose, she squared her shoulders. Clay felt a flicker of justified concern at the way they were studying each other, and he was a more than a little grateful when the Rector stepped into the clearing and called everyone’s attention to him.
When he’d spoken at Clay’s Choosing, the Rector had appeared formal, steady, and unflappable. Now, however, as he glanced at Olivia, the man appeared to have considerably less certainty in his voice as he spoke.
“Youth of Pellsglade, today is the day of your Choosing.” The Rector paused and cleared his throat after another glance in Olivia’s direction. “Eight years ago, when you received your [Gift], you were given the chance to prepare for this day. The gods have watched you this long time, as you grew from [Child] to [Youth], and today they will deliver you the reward of your efforts. Those of you who are called to serve as their champions in this land will receive [Classes] that will guide you to your purpose. If you receive no such calling, you will still receive the [Class] and [Subclasses] that match your efforts.” He paused one more time and bowed his head.
When he looked up again, the Rector seemed to have recovered some of his determination. “Let us begin.”
The Rector turned to a pair of villagers. “Graham Summers, Tyler Smith, see to the Stone.”
Clay watched as two boys stepped forward, and he remembered vividly the anxiety and hopes that he had carried with him to the Stone. They seemed even more nervous than he had been, perhaps with good reason. After all, the last Choosing had produced a group of adventurers… and him, who was probably considered just as different these days. He saw the parents of the boys watching with just as much anxiety; Goodwoman Summers was wringing a handkerchief in her hands, and Goodman Smith had tightened his grip on a shovel enough that his knuckles stood out white.
Both boys stepped over and placed their hands on the Stone. Rector Semmons began to murmur the words of the ceremony, and Clay suddenly realized that they sounded familiar. They were a [Chant], not just a random spell of some kind, and Clay practically kicked himself for not realizing it sooner. His eyes darted to Syr Katherine, who seemed unimpressed.
Then he looked at Olivia, who simply nodded at him. She had to have already known. Clay felt his lips twitch in an aborted smile. He looked back to the Stone, which was glowing with power, and tried to remember as much of the [Chant] as he could.
All too soon, the glow faded, and both boys stepped back. For a moment, they seemed too worried to react. Then they relaxed and smiled at each other. They walked over to the Rector, who was waiting with a subtle tension for them to speak with him. A smile broke out across his face as they spoke to him, and he turned to make the announcement.
“Goodman Graham Summers has been chosen as a [Commoner]! Goodman Tyler Smith has been chosen as a [Commoner]!”
The tension in the air cracked slightly as the two newly minted [Commoners] went back to their families. They stole glances at Clay and the adventurers as they went, but they were clearly relieved that nobody would expect them to go hunting monsters any time soon.
Clay heard Taylor sigh. He glanced at her as the next pair of [Youths] were ordered to the Stone. She gave him an apologetic shrug. “There were… concerns that something unusual was happening in Pellsglade. Many members of the Council will be relieved to hear of a normal Choosing this year, rather than one full of adventurers and… well.”
She gestured to him, and Clay couldn’t help but grin at her. Then he turned back as the Stone glowed for a second time. He couldn’t quite make out the words of the [Chant], but from the looks of things, he was going to have plenty of chances to practice.
In the end, there were more [Youths] than Clay had expected. Five of them were people he’d known for years. Tyler and Graham had always been lurking around the village, and Georgia Manors’ family had worked for the baron for longer than he’d been alive. Sam Fletcher’s parents had come to Pellsglade a decade ago, while Alice Cooper’s family had been farming in Pellsglade since the village had been founded.
None of them were given an adventurer’s [Class], and all of them seemed more than happy about the fact. Alice and Sam had given him shrugs and nods as they went back to their families; Georgia had run straight back to her mother and clung to her, crying with gratitude.
Not all of them were familiar, though. Six more [Youths] had been newcomers to the village, and only about half looked to be happy about their new [Classes] as [Commoners]. Some of them were grousing openly about the fact that they hadn’t been made adventurers, a fact that had Clay shaking his head in exasperation.
One of them, however, had taken the news of his new [Class] with calm acceptance. He’d turned to look at Clay for a long moment, and then nodded to himself. Clay had watched him for a moment, wondering what it meant, only to be distracted by a final call from the Rector.
“Olivia Shrinekept!” The Rector paused, something he hadn’t done before. He looked at Olivia and swallowed. “See to the Stone!”
She stepped forward, walking to the middle of the clearing. He heard a burst of whispers and murmurs from the people who were still watching. Apparently, the conflict between Olivia and the Rector had made for good gossip the past few months.
As Olivia passed the Rector, however, she paused. Rector Semmons was watching her with his arms folded, both hope and dread in his eyes. She looked at him and then stepped over to wrap her arms around him in a hug. The Rector’s eyes went wide, and there was another burst of murmurs from the crowd. Rector Semmons wasn’t exactly known as an affectionate or tolerant man, after all, and had Clay not known his relationship with Olivia, it would have been easy to expect a strict lecture on breaking the ceremony.
Instead, the Rector’s eyes had gone wide, and then soft. He hugged Olivia back for a moment. When she drew back, he held her arms; she spoke in a soft murmur that put a shaky smile on the Rector’s face.
Then Olivia turned to face the Stone. Her shoulders became set, and her stride became closer to a march than a regular pace. She stopped in front of the Stone and stared at it for a long moment. He saw her take a deep breath and then shove her hand against the surface of the weathered rock.
He glanced at the adventurers as the Rector began his [Chant]. Taylor seemed like she was holding her breath. Orn was rolling his eyes at her apparent tension. Syr Katherine was watching without blinking, as if she would miss the result if she did anything but stare.
Clay looked back at the scene as well. The Stone glowed, just as it had for the others. He studied it closely, searching for any sign of a difference. There was nothing he could see. He realized with a start that he had lost track of the words of the [Chant] that the Rector had been saying; it would be his last opportunity to hear it, at least for this year.
Then the Rector came to a stop. Semmons was staring at Olivia, a faint look of horror on his face. The Rector’s eyes darted to Clay, and he saw a rising panic in them. Fear took hold of Clay’s own heart. He stepped forward, ready to sprint to Olivia and pull her from Stone if needed.
Just as he took that step, though, the glow abruptly faded. Olivia stepped back from the Stone, her expression calm. She turned to look at the Rector, who was wringing his hands. Her stride was calm and composed as she approached Semmons.
Clay was straining to listen as she leaned close, but the words they exchanged were too quiet to hear. He belatedly remembered the [Chant] of Distant Ear, but by the time he had recalled it, she was already gesturing for the Rector to speak. Semmons turned to face the rest of the village, a mixture of resignation, relief, and exasperation on his face.
“Goodwoman Olivia Newfeld has been chosen as a [Commoner]!”
There was another murmur through the crowd, though Olivia didn’t seem to notice. She walked calmly to where the bundle had been waiting for her and slowly unpacked it.
Clay almost groaned as he recognized the war scythe as it emerged. It provoked another rash of murmurs, as did the sling she stored, and the small hatchet she put at her waist. The rest of her equipment she shoved in a pack that she hefted onto her back.
Then she walked across the clearing, striding directly over to him while the entire village watched.
He waited to speak until she was looking up at him from a decent distance. “Olivia.”
“Clay.” She smiled. “You were cutting it awfully close, you know. Any later and I might have needed to go south to find you.”
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t miss anything.” Clay paused, uncertain about how to proceed. “Are you…”
“Disappointed?” Olivia shrugged. “I might have been, if I hadn’t met you. That, and I was given some… reassurance, just now.” She paused, and Clay thought he might have heard laughter on the wind. “So? Are you going to keep your promise?”
Taylor spoke up before Clay could. “You may need to know that Sir Clay’s time will be spoken for, Novice. The Council will be keeping him rather busy. Perhaps while you wait for him, you could study with me in Crownsguard.”
“I have studied enough, Syr Taylor.” Olivia’s voice had grown cold. “And while I am grateful to the Rectory for their charity, and to Rector Semmons for his unflagging kindness, I am no longer a Novice. I am a hero.”
Syr Katherine stepped forward, her eyes weighing the young woman before her. “It will take more than determination to prove that, Olivia.”
Olivia turned her attention to the [Calculator] and smiled. “Of course. Fortunately, I will have a good teacher.” She looked back at Clay and raised her eyebrows.
Clay bit his lip to prevent himself from smiling. If they had hoped Olivia would be less challenging than him… “I claim Olivia Newfeld as my apprentice, by my rights as a peer.”
Taylor sighed, and Syr Katherine jerked in surprise. She looked back at Clay with an incredulous expression. “You’re serious. You’re going to claim her as an apprentice? As a…”
She stopped, and Clay allowed himself to smile at last. “Yes, Syr Katherine. At the very least, it’ll be easier on her than it was on me.” He looked back at Olivia. “You’re still sure about this, aren’t you?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “More than you know, Clay.”
Orn spoke up from where he was leaning on his hammer. “The appropriate form of address for an apprentice to their teacher is Sir or Syr, young hero.”
Olivia made as if to reply and then paused. She nodded to Orn in respect. “Thank you, Sir Orn.”
Syr Katherine looked at Orn in surprise. “Are you actually going to entertain this, Armsman?”
He looked back with a shrug. “We don’t have much choice, Syr Katherine. They’ve followed the forms, even if they weren’t expected. In fact, Sir Clay seems to have been suspiciously well prepared.”
Orn looked at Taylor, who abruptly found something interesting in the village to study. Syr Katherine tapped a finger on her sword, and the scholar threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh fine, I did mention some things to Sir Clay. At least she’ll be tied to him instead of running around on her own. That way, the catastrophe can be limited in scope.”
Syr Katherine let a breath hiss out between her teeth. “Fine. We will sort this out when we return to Crownsguard.” She glanced at the baron, who was still standing nearby. “We’ll require lodging and a cart to help us return to Crownsguard. I’m sure the [Guards] sent by the King will be more than happy to provide the horses.”
“We won’t, Lord Pellsglade.” There was a sudden silence as Olivia stepped up next to Clay. Her expression was clearly one of triumph. “The only thing we’ll need is a few rations and other supplies for the road. We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
Baron Pellsglade looked mystified as he looked back and forth between the adventurers and the [Commoners]. “I’m… sure that we can provide whatever you all need?”
Syr Katherine was looking steadily less patient by the heartbeat now. “Goodwoman Newfeld, Sir Clay will be following us back to the capital to speak with the Council about his next mission. If you continue to pretend to be his apprentice, you will need to follow him back there as well.”
Olivia’s smile was anything but kind. “Syr Katherine, under most circumstances you would be correct. Unfortunately, I have a letter here from Baroness Janburg, requesting urgent aid from the Commoner Hero. Apparently, the local Lair has grown dangerously unchecked, and she needs assistance to get it under control.”
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There was another moment of silence, this time deeper and more complete. Syr Katherine’s expression had gone from frustrated to stunned. Her eyes darted to Clay, who shrugged. Olivia hadn’t mentioned any letter to him, but he doubted she was lying. He heard too much honest pleasure in the truth in Olivia’s voice. It was the kind of smug satisfaction his mother occasionally had when she’d already won an argument, and Clay just hadn’t realized it yet.
It was Taylor that spoke up first. “Janburg. It’s a village on the border of Merarbor. Close to it, at least.”
“The borders changed a while ago.” Olivia broke off from staring at Syr Katherine to look at the [Artifactor]. “The baroness and I are old friends. Ever since she saved my life.”
Realization of exactly which Lair Olivia was taking them to exploded in Clay’s mind. She glanced at him, obviously sensing his dawning comprehension, and nodded quickly. They weren’t just going somewhere to train. Olivia was bringing him to the place that had been her home to kill the monsters that had murdered her family.
It was brilliant enough that he almost forgot to be horrified at the sheer rage slowly filling Syr Katherine’s expression.
“The Council’s has ordered—”
Olivia cut her off. “Many things, I’m sure. For very good reasons, I’m also sure.” Her voice lowered slightly, and her green eyes grew firm. “If the Council’s orders were the only important thing in the world, both Pellsglade and Rodcliff would be nothing but ruins now. Just like my home, Syr Katherine. My home, with my family dead inside it.”
The adventurer straightened up as if Olivia had slapped her, and Clay winced as Olivia went on in that same frigid tone. “It is my understanding, Syr Katherine, that every adventurer swears an oath. Do you remember it?”
Syr Katherine nodded rigidly. “Of course.”
“In that oath, they promise to defend against monsters, and to obey the summons of one of the King’s servants, do they not?” Olivia’s leading tone wouldn’t have gone over well in any lecture hall in the Academy, but she didn’t seem to care at all.
Orn seemed to have realized something; the Armsman grunted and whispered something to Taylor under his breath. The scholar twitched in surprise, but Syr Katherine answered before Clay could ask what was going on. “That is correct.”
Olivia shifted her war scythe in her hands. “And do they swear to obey the Council as well, Syr Katherine?”
Syr Katherine’s mouth opened, and no sound came out for a few heartbeats. She glared at Olivia, who just arched an eyebrow at her. Then her eyes darted to Baron Pellsglade, who seemed torn between the desire to laugh and the sudden need to be elsewhere. When Syr Katherine looked back, her stare was nearly venomous all on its own. “They do not.”
The smugness was back in Olivia’s tone. Clay wondered if it would ever leave. “Then I’m afraid Sir Clay’s course is clear in this case. We’ll respond to the baroness’ request, and you can return to Crownsguard to report to the Council. Anything else would break the sacred oath that he took—and that you all took as well. Or am I mistaken?”
Olivia had drawn that last question out in agonizing fashion. It took Syr Katherine a few more moments to clamp down on her anger enough to respond. “Your knowledge of the oath is correct.” Then Syr Katherine’s gaze sharpened. “You are making other mistakes, however.”
“We shall see.” Olivia shrugged. “In any case, you’ve occupied enough of Sir Clay’s time. He’s mine now.”
Clay blinked at the statement, and a heartbeat later, Olivia went a little red. He heard Orn chuckle behind him and gave the [Fighter] a brief glare. The Armsman couldn’t even bother looking ashamed, however. At least Taylor was too busy looking a little lost at the moment to join in. Then he looked back at Syr Katherine and Olivia, who seemed to be getting ready for another verbal exchange.
He cleared his throat, getting both of them to look at him. “Syr Katherine, Olivia, maybe we can discuss this later? I do have something I need to give my father.”
Baron Pellsglade seemed to latch onto the suggestion like a desperate sailor grabbing a lifeline. “A fine suggestion, Sir Clay. Perhaps some time to consider things and a less… public… forum might lessen the conflict?”
The words seemed to convince Syr Katherine to rein herself back in. She took a single breath to steady herself, and her impassive mask slid back into place. “You are correct, Lord Pellsglade. Lead the way. Sir Clay, we will speak more about this later.”
Without further words, Syr Katherine turned and began walking towards the road that led to the baron’s manor. Pellsglade spent a moment to clasp Clay’s hand and then hurried after her. Taylor and Orn trailed in her wake, with the [Fighter] limping along and the scholar lost in her own thoughts.
Olivia watched them go, her smug expression settled firmly on her face. Then, when they were out of sight, she buried the butt of her war scythe in the dirt and leaned heavily on it. She breathed in and out heavily.
Clay gave her an amused look. “Not as brave as you looked?”
She gave him a bashful look. “Not yet, maybe. I just gained two [Valor]. Not bad for my first day as a [Commoner].” Then she glanced back at where the adventurers had vanished. “Do you think they bought it?”
“You definitely seemed pretty convincing.” He grinned. “You had me worried there for a minute. Do you need more time, or should we get going?”
“Let’s go.” Olivia straightened up, and some of her determination came back. She looked at Rector Semmons and nodded. “I’m ready.”
The walk back to his family home was a calm, relaxing one compared to what he’d been doing the past few days. With the sun shining down and Olivia walking alongside him, Clay felt a calm he hadn’t known for a while. It was like his worries had retreated for a time; even the looming problems the adventurers and the Council might cause were distant for a while.
He snuck a look at Olivia. She was walking along at a pace that matched his own, her war scythe still on her shoulder. Her expression was a mixture of satisfaction and determination, and there was a small smile on her lips.
She glanced over at him, and he jerked a little as she caught him looking. “What?”
Clay frantically grasped for a safe topic. “I was just wondering what [Subclass] you ended up with.”
Olivia blushed a little. “Oh, really?”
He smiled. “Hey, it has to be better than [Laborer], right? What is it? Mom would probably love it if you got [Scribe].”
“She’ll have to get used to disappointment, then.” Olivia sighed. “I’m a [Student] apparently. A small bonus to when I am studying things.”
Clay blinked. As much as he’d downplayed it, [Laborer] had helped him out plenty of times, even in the middle of combat. If [Student] was similar… “It says things? Not books?”
She paused. “Not books.” Her lips curved into a smile again. “I guess I’ll have to think a bit more about what that means.”
He nodded. “How about your first [Experiences]? Anything interesting?”
Her expression soured a little. “Just [Translator] and [Survivor], actually. It should help with any languages we find, and maybe provide some useful things in terms of endurance and healing, but nothing beyond that.”
Clay shrugged. “Well, it might prove more useful than [Hunter] or [Farmhand] at least.”
Olivia chuckled. “Hey, at least you’d be able to feed us. Besides, I doubt you want your father to hear about your opinion of farming.”
He laughed. “Good point! He’d certainly let me have an earful. Can you keep it a to yourself, then?”
She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head a little. “I suppose it’ll be our secret.”
They continued walking in silence for a few more moments. Clay felt warm, inside and out, as the farm came into view.
His family was there this time, clearly going about their daily work. Without someone to worry about at the Choosing, it was obvious that they’d just spent it as another day around the farm, caring for their crops and animals and going about their chores. Sam, working in the field, caught sight of them first. He waved to them and called out.
Moments later, Amelia came out of the house and waved to them as well. Will and Saphy were nowhere to be seen, but Finn was clutching at Amelia’s skirts, and a sour-looking Amy was carrying a basket of clothes back from the river. She almost dropped them when she saw Olivia and Clay, but a glance at Amelia had her thinking better of it, and settling for a lurching jog instead.
It was Amelia who met them first, as Sam was still picking his way through the crop. “Clay, Olivia, welcome back! Good news?”
Clay nodded. “The Dungeon should be contained for at least a year or two. We don’t have to worry about it for a while.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow and then looked at Olivia. The newly made [Student] nudged him in the side with an elbow. “I’m a [Commoner]. Like we expected.”
His mother nodded. “And how do you feel? Are you ready?”
Olivia smiled. “I think so. How about the others? Are the supplies all ready?”
“In the barn, except for the [Guards]. I think they are probably still on their way back from the manor.”
Clay blinked. He looked back and forth between them. “Wait, what others? What are you talking about?”
Amelia gave him a look that suggested he was being particularly slow. “The others who wanted to join you on the way to Janburg, obviously. Some of them might be less helpful than others, but at the very least, you won’t be traveling alone.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but then Sam arrived and threw his arms around Clay. Despite his superior [Stats], he could still feel the strength of his father’s hug. “Welcome back, son. You’re well, aren’t you? No wounds anywhere? No poisons?”
The anxiety in his father’s voice made Clay’s heart clench. For the moment, he forgot his questions and just hugged his father back. “I’m fine, Dad. Really.”
Sam hung on for a few moments more, as if he really didn’t believe it. Then he loosened up and looked Clay over for himself. “Good. Good.” He looked at Amelia and smiled. “I don’t think we want to sit here talking about things in the middle of the road, do we? Let’s take this inside and give him a meal of some kind. Those rations never put any meat on his bones, from what I can see…”
He didn’t let go of Clay’s shoulder as they headed towards the house. It was a bit amusing, thinking of how people would see it from the outside. Here was Clay, the Commoner Hero, being dragged to his house by a [Farmer] with no special abilities or magic…and yet still completely helpless about it. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost.
“I can’t believe you found these.” The wonder and faded pain in his father’s voice was enough to set Clay’s heart aching again, but he forced himself to not say anything and just watch. Olivia put a hand on his arm and squeezed a little. She smiled when he glanced at her.
His father had the treasures he’d rescued from the Sarlsboro home spread out on the table, and he was turning them over and studying them like they were made of gold. Sam shook his head and looked up. “You were there? You found the house?”
Clay nodded. “It was right where you said it was. You couldn’t have drawn a better map if you tried.”
Sam went back to looking at the things Clay had brought home. His smile was a fragile, wonderful thing. “I thought I’d never see any of it again. Not after…” He shook his head. “I’m guessing we can’t exactly go there on a family visit, right?”
The simple idea of it made Clay shake his head, hard. “No, Dad. It’s still dangerous. Just less than it used to be.” He reached out and touched the book he’d rescued. “Still, if there is anything else you wanted to see again…”
Sam reached out and grabbed Clay by the hand. He squeezed it tight. “No, son. I already have everything I could ever want, right here.” Reaching out with his other hand, he ruffled Clay’s hair and grinned. “And you managed to come back without a pile of wounds this time! You must be getting better at this whole adventuring thing.”
Clay snorted and drew back. “I hope so. They certainly aren’t giving me much of a break.”
Then he looked over at his mother, who was idly reading a book. “Speaking of which, what did you mean about other people joining Olivia and me? You never did explain that.”
Amelia gave him a sidelong glance before she went back to her reading. “I meant just what I said. There’s a few people who are interested in joining you on the road, and we have the supplies ready for all of you out there in the barn. I’d suggest you wait for the rest of them to get here, but as soon as they do, you’d best be off.”
Clay glanced at Olivia, who was nodding along. “You’re saying I should just abandon Syr Katherine and the others? We told them we’d meet them back at the manor.”
Olivia sighed. “Which means we’ll have a fairly decent head start, especially with Sir Orn’s injury. Syr Katherine won’t be able to abandon him, and she wouldn’t try to track us down on her own. At least, that’s what I hope.”
He fixed her with a steady look. “She wouldn’t need to track us down if we just kept our word, you know. After all, there’s not much she can do. We have the letter from the baroness.”
Amelia chuckled to herself. “And how long do you think it will take her to convince the Baron to ask you to stay here instead, at least until the Council can send their own message?”
Clay blinked. He looked from his mom to Olivia and back. “He wouldn’t do that. Would he?”
Sam shook him by the shoulder for a bit and then leaned back in his chair. “Ah, son… The Baron is fond of you, he really is, but I don’t know if he would risk his relationship with the Guild over this. Especially not with his son in their ranks.”
Olivia nodded, her expression solemn. “He’s right, Clay. She’ll be motivated to make it happen, too. If we go back to the baron’s manor, we won’t be going to Janburg. Not any time soon.”
He grimaced. It wasn’t the best situation, but if the baroness really did need the help, there was no other way to make it happen in time. “I still don’t like it.”
“Oh, really?” Amelia gave him a look of false shock. “This from the person who was sneaking around and fighting spiders behind everyone else’s back?”
Clay blinked. He worried at the thought like a sore tooth, but he didn’t have an answer. “That was different.”
His mother set down her book for long enough to give him a frank look. “Oh really? How?”
He glared back at her, unwilling to just surrender the point. Before he could hit on an answer though, Olivia spoke up instead. “He’s probably unhappy because the plans are putting someone else in danger, Amelia. He can get a bit… stubborn about things like that. Even if it really isn’t any different at all.”
Clay looked back at Olivia, who smiled at him. Then he slumped. “All right, all right. We’ll leave tonight.” She nodded, and he continued in an aggravated tone. “I’m still going to leave a letter explaining where we’ve gone. We are going to Janburg, right?”
Olivia blinked. Then she laughed softly. “Yes, Clay. We really are going to Janburg.” Her face grew a bit more serious. “The Baroness was more than happy to request your aid when I wrote to her, and I didn’t want the Guild to consider you a Rogue by just disappearing into the night. We wouldn’t get much done with a bunch of adventurers from the Guild hunting us.”
He snorted. “Glad you think that way now. The way you were fighting with Syr Katherine, I was worried you’d have us on the run the rest of our lives.”
Amelia paused, halfway to picking up her book again, and Sam let out a bark of laughter. “See, I told you we should have gone to the Choosing! We obviously missed out on more than we should have.”
His mother shook her head and muttered to herself, though the words were still loud enough to hear. “I suppose he was right, there.” She gave Olivia a look. “What happened to trying to stay out of their attention?”
Olivia straightened her shoulders. “I… may have lost my temper.” She shook her head, her face showing echoes of her frustration. “The way they were talking about him, about both of us, like we were pawns on their board… I couldn’t let them even pretend that it was right. They needed to know where we were going, and why.”
Then she glanced at him and blushed. “Besides, if they’re worried about how I’ll react, maybe they will try to be a bit more reasonable with Clay. He’s a bit too good-hearted about things sometimes.”
Sam snorted. “A fair point.” He scuffed Clay’s hair a second time and then grinned. “Well, if that cat is out of the bag, then we might as well not worry about it. We have a journey to prepare for, anyway.”
Clay grunted. He was feeling a little warm again, though he couldn’t have said why. “About that. These others? Who are they?”
Amelia exchanged a look with Sam. Then she sighed. “They are… admirers of yours, Clay.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “Be serious.”
“I am.” She almost glared back at him. “You might not know it, but Crownsguard wasn’t the only place that’s heard of the Commoner Hero. Some of the newcomers moving here had heard of you, too.”
Sam spoke up, drawing an irritated look from Amelia. “Not just them, either. There were a few traveling merchants that stopped by, and every time they had heard songs of you in some of the nearby villages as well. You haven’t been around, but the folks around here have already learned a few.”
Clay grimaced. He cursed at his past self for giving coins to the minstrels. It had been an act of pity, but obviously it had gotten far out of control. “I don’t need people thinking that following me is going to be like a song.”
Olivia chuckled softly. “So they won’t be fighting monsters? Destroying Lairs? Dueling with the King?”
He winced. “That was… only one time. And he won, anyway.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Sam burst out laughing. He struck the table with his palm and pointed at Amelia. “I told you! That’s twice in one day!”
Amelia straightened her skirt, her face scrunched up in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “Really, Clay, I thought I raised you better than that. You challenged the King?”
Clay hurriedly shook his head. “No, no, it was during a melee at a festival. And he came after me, actually. I was just trying not to get… knocked down.” Olivia gave him a sharp look, but he wasn’t about to admit that the King had nearly used a dirty fighting trick on him. Not to his mother and father, at least. The King probably needed to have some air of dignity for people who didn’t see him regularly.
“In any case, for different reasons, they came to follow you, and hope to learn how to do what you did.” Amelia shrugged. “Some of them we’ve come to know, some are strangers. All of them are willing to go and help you at Janburg.”
Clay glanced at Olivia, who gave him a nod. He sighed. “There’s only so much I can do to help. How many are there?”
“Twelve, counting a few of the [Guards].” Sam’s voice was serious. Clay gave him an exasperated look, and his father sighed. “Just do what you can, son. I know they may not be much help… but without you, they won’t get far.”
With a sigh, Clay nodded. “I will do what I can, father. We just need to be careful, in a lot of ways. The monsters are dangerous, but we can’t just teach everything I know to anyone. The [Chants] in particular are risky. If the wrong person learns those, it could be worse than them all dying.”
The others looked at each other for a moment. Amelia spoke up slowly. “It would, would it?”
He gave his mother a look. “Yes. If they stumble on the wrong [Chant]… just the text from the wrong [Chant], written on the wall, nearly destroyed Rodcliff. It created the thing in the Tanglewood too. We can’t just let anyone learn about spells like that until we know we can trust them, especially since if the adventurers find out…”
Clay paused as the door banged open, and his little brother and sister ran in. They were both absolutely covered in mud, and Will had a desperate look on his face. Saphy’s expression was full of a kind of vindictive triumph that only an aggrieved sibling could feel. “Mom, Will pushed me in the creek!”
“I only did it after you pushed me in!”
“Well, you said it wasn’t such a big deal that I—”
“I did not! You were being all—”
He put a hand over his face as his brother and sister continued their argument, but before he could lower it, he heard Will stop mid-shout. “Hey, Clay’s back! Clay!”
Clay jumped out of his chair, grinning as Will tried to tackle him. “Hey. Hey! I don’t want whatever that is all over me.”
Will scowled. “Oh, come on, it’s just a little mud. You’re an adventurer or something now, right? You shouldn’t be scared of that.”
He put his nose up in the air in response, still grinning from ear to ear. “Do you see any mud on me? No? That’s cause adventurers know how to get past such trivial things. Aren’t I right, Olivia?”
Clay looked at her, expecting her to be smiling too, but instead he found her exchanging a silent look with Amelia. Saphy, for her part, was looking down at her filthy clothes, and then marched up to her mother. “Mom, can you clean me off? I want to be the first one to give Clay a hug.”
Amy poked her head over the edge of the loft and laughed. ‘Too late! I already did it before they even started talking about boring stuff.”
Saphy stuck her tongue out at Amy, and almost immediately seemed to regret it as a bit of muddy water dripped onto it. She scowled and turned back to Amelia. “Mom?”
Clay blinked. He stepped forward, ready to volunteer to clean his sister off with a quick spell.
Then he froze as Amelia sighed, stepped forward, and began reciting some very familiar words. Specifically, she was saying the words for the [Chant] of Pure Touch, something that should have been impossible.
He glanced at Olivia, who was avoiding his eyes now, and then looked around the house. The immaculate, spotless house that looked like she’d spent hours cleaning every nook and cranny. Hours that no farmwife ever truly had, with children to look after and a farm to support.
His attention landed on his father, who gave him a small smile and shrugged. By the time he looked back at Amelia, his mother had already almost finished the spell.
Just like that, Saphy’s clothes were suddenly purged of all filth. She gave herself a quick once over and then catapulted past Will to tackle-hug Clay. “Clay! It’s so good to see you!”
Feeling a little numb, Clay hugged her back. “It’s good to be back, little one.” She beamed up at him while Will stomped over for his own cleaning. A moment later, as the two were finally satisfied with their hugs and a quick excuse, they rushed up to the loft to be with Amy, and Clay slowly sat back down in his chair.
He looked back and forth between his parents. Then he sighed. “So it would be a good thing to encourage the adventurers to leave town quickly, wouldn’t it?”
Sam snorted. “I’d say that’s maybe a good idea.” He looked over at Amelia and shrugged. “I’ll show him to the barn. Do you want to make sure that Dasher and the cart are ready to go? I think the [Guards] will be back soon.”
Amelia and Olivia nodded, and Sam gestured for Clay to join him. They walked out the door and back into the spring sunshine, as Clay tried to reconcile the idea of both his parents being amateur mages.
Life had become very strange.