They settled down around the table, Kato on one side, while Ivkarha and Aedmorn sat opposite. A keg of ale had been broached and propped on the table between them, along with a number of tankards. Kato had even roused up some platters with bread and cheese, figs and dates, oil and dipping salts upon them. He tore off a chunk of the dark bread, dunked it in the oil and then into the salts, eating heartily of it.
“You promised me a tale,” he said, pointing at them with the bread. “And to drink as well.”
Almost scowling, Ivkarha poured out two tankards of ale, though she did not touch hers. She remained on edge, fingers opening and closing around the hilt of her sword that rested across her lap, ever watching Kato, ready for anything.
“Have you heard of the Soul of Angfaeled?” Aedmorn asked.
A shake of a head. “Should I have?” Kato asked.
“It was stolen, from the Temple of the Eternal,” Aedmorn replied, “A gem of unimaginable wealth.”
“Who would steal from a temple?” Kato asked.
“Desperate men,” Ivkarha put in. “Desperate and dangerous.”
“They slew the High Priestess in so doing, and we have been tracking them ever since.”
“For the gem or the men?”
Aedmorn sipped from his tankard, savouring the ale held within, a nutty brew that was not unpleasant to the taste. “A decent drop,” he remarked. “It is the men that we desired, so that they shall pay for their perfidy.”
“Then I have done you a great service,” Kato stated, “And have dealt with them already.”
“These were not the men,” scowled Ivkarha. “The ones that we seek have vanished and these knew of them, we believed.”
Kato shrugged, unconcerned. “That makes sense, in light of what they said.”
“And what did they say?” Aedmorn prompted.
“Before they died, they begged for their lives, promising me much. All that I could ever desire could be mine, one said, for the soul of creation was within reach and all things could be with it. I dismissed it for babbling of a desperate man.”
Aedmorn and Ivkarha looked to each other, her scowl deepening as they did. “The Soul of Angfaeled, the Soul of Creation, they are one and the same, a mystic gem that has the power to do as they said. Did they say more?”
“Mayhap,” Kato retorted. “You still have not told me the tale proper. First the tale, and then I shall say what I may know.”
“Very well.” Aedmorn composed his features, taking on a look of thoughtful concentration. “At the dawn of all things,” said he, “When the waters of creation were yet to recede, there was that which was Eternal.”
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“When I said a tale, I did not mean that far back,” Said Kato with a laugh.
“A tale you requested, and so a tale you shall have,” Aedmorn replied calmly. “All is related, the tale and the event.”
“And how long, pray tell, does this tale last?”
“It could be a while,” Aedmorn admitted. “An hour or two.”
Kato laughed and held up his hands in protest. “You have me,” he cried out. “Spare me the edge of your gilded tongue, cruaith. Do me the courtesy at least of telling me why this bauble is so desired.”
“There are a thousand tales about it,” Aedmorn began, holding up a hand as Kato began to protest. “Fear not, I shall not recount them all. Many, though, are the tales of where it has created that which those who have held it have desired, spun forth from the web of time.”
“If such a thing existed, all the powers of the realms would desire it and its name would be spoken in all corners of the world.”
‘It would be so if it came easily, for the Soul of Angfaeled does not accept just any. No, it requires a devout soul, one of true faith and too any other is but a pretty bauble.”
“And there are not many of those,” Ivkarha retorted, cynicism evident.
“You may have the right of that,” Kato replied. He picked up a date and pulled it apart, popping one part into his mouth. “I’m not saying I believe you about its power, but am willing to believe that others do, and thus it is likely to be of value.”
“To some, yes.”
Kato smiled at that, a considering look in his eyes. After a moment he spoke. “Very well, I shall say what I know and then we shall find this bauble of yours together.”
“You have no part in this,” Ivkarha protested, eyes flashing dark and angry.
Kato shrugged again. “I do, because without me you have no means to find this bauble and those that took it. You could search until the sun fades and dies and darkness swallows the land and never come close to find it, or you can accept my aid.”
“What is your price?” Aedmorn asked.
“Half of what you are getting,” he stated bluntly.
“But…” Ivkhara began to protested, only to be cut off by Aedmorn raising his hand. She fell silent, an unhappy look upon her face.
“Very well,” Aedmorn accept. “Half.”
“You do not wish to barter?” Kato asked.
“It is late and I am tired. I feel not like squabbling over such matters. We have an accord.” He stretched forth his hand towards the big man opposite. Kato looked at it for a moment before grasping it firmly. “We have an accord,” he agreed.
“Now that is agreed upon, regale us with what you know.”
“That I shall, cruaith, that I shall. As I said before, they spoke of this bauble of yours, and more, they spoke of Zalasfir.”
Aedmorn’s face tightened at the mention of the name. “I see.”
“Who is this person, this Zalasfir?” Ivkarha demanded.
“He is parakor, High Sage,” Kato told her calmly, studying her as he did.
“The king?” she asked.
“Oh, no, not king,” Aedmorn asked. “No, if only he was a king. Ten thousand sages there are in the city, and he stands alone above them, seeped deep in secret knowledge and ancient understanding. If any there are that can unlock the power of the Soul of Angfaeled, it is he. It shall be no easy thing to recover it.”
Kato laughed at that. “No, it shall not, but the reward shall be sweeter for it. Come, my merry friends, let us eat and drink and then be about a little thievery.”