Chapter Four -- Kardal

“Look,” Rhianne said to the blonde woman, who was staring at her accusingly. “I didn’t do anything to her. She tripped and fell, and must have hurt herself then.” Rhianne knew they all thought her a hothead, but she really wasn’t responsible for this one. They could all thank Jojo for that. The girl was of the Guild. She wore a focus crystal on a chain around her neck. Rhianne didn’t care if she was an apprentice or a hopeful or what, she didn’t want anyone associated with the Guild around. It wasn’t safe.

“Tripped and fell,” the blonde repeated. “That doesn’t explain her collapsing as she’s brought into camp, Rhianne.”

“Do you see any marks on her, Vivica? I didn’t touch her.” Like she was some kind of psycho or something.

“She’s telling the truth,” Jojo chimed in from where he was leaning over the now unconscious girl. “There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with her. In spite of Rhianne’s wishes, I believe.” The others had gathered around now, and made noises of protest.

“She’s from the Guild!” Rhianne shouted at them. They all took a step back at that, save Elliot who was staring at the girl as if he hadn’t noticed her before. He probably hadn’t, come to that.

“Are you sure?” Vivaca asked. Rhianne nodded, but offered no explanation. They only knew that she had good reason to avoid the Guild, they knew nothing of why. Much as they all might bicker, they stood by her in that. She did appreciate that much.

“I still say she’s harmless,” Jojo asserted. “She’s too young to be a Mage, she looks to young to even be apprenticed to one. And why would she be out here?” he explained. “But Rhianne says she’s dangerous… I say we ask the Maestro.”

“The Maestro?” Vivica repeated. “I say we ask Kardal. If he’s for her, I’m for her.” The others behind her nodded. It was a good idea, Rhianne reasoned. Kardal was unquestionably the wisest of them, and his judgment of people was sounder than most. Rhianne didn’t particularly like talking to the man; he was always mysterious and cryptic about everything. But it was true that if he trusted this little Guild-ling, she would do the same. Hell, that was probably what the Maestro would decide to do himself.

“We still talk to the Maestro,” Jojo asserted. “But first let’s see if we can find Kardal to ask him.” The various members of the group looked around, each hoping any of the others had any idea where the strange man might be. Rhianne herself had no idea where to even begin looking; he tended to go for long walks at night, no one ever saw where he went, and no one was ever awake when he came back so none of them knew when to expect him. It was a good idea… save that the man in question would be terribly hard to find.

Thus it was that Rhianne nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice behind her.

Kayla awoke to the sounds of people bickering somewhere above her. It wasn’t until she heard the words ‘the Maestro’ that she remembered where she was and what had happened. The… no, she had decided they weren’t thieves or bandits. What were they? She wasn’t sure. Her head hurt, her ankle was throbbing, and she couldn’t seem to think straight. All the bickering going on wasn’t helping. Maybe she could ask them to stop shouting? Almost as she thought that, they did. She wished she had been paying attention to the conversation as she had no idea what course of action they had decided on. Could she risk opening her eyes, or were they watching her?

A quick peek revealed that the people from the camp had scattered; they were wandering about and appeared to be searching for something, or maybe someone. Kayla figured it would be safe to open her eyes and have a look around, since none of them were paying her any attention.

There wasn’t a lot to see in the camp site that she hadn’t seen before—garish wagons, large fire, instruments scattered about. Music, too, it looked like, though she couldn’t see from where she was. She didn’t feel comfortable enough about their inattention to her to move from where she was, so she didn’t go investigate. Instead, she decided to take a closer look at the nearest wagon… and found herself looking straight into the palest green eyes she had ever seen.

“Welcome, Wise Child,” said a lilting, musical male voice. The voice came from the man before her, the man that possessed those amazing eyes. Kayla had trouble focusing on anything other than his eyes, and perhaps he realized that; he closed them and bowed his head as if in greeting, allowing her to get a better look at the rest of his features. He had long, silvery white hair, but his features were smooth rather than wrinkled. Still, he had an air of age about him, along with one of… Kayla couldn’t quite place it. Peace, maybe, or wisdom. He wore a small smile that seemed to permeate his whole being.

“Hi,” Kayla responded, lamely. What exactly does one say to those… eyes… he was looking at her again, and once again she could not look away. A question nagged at her mind… “What did you call me?” she heard herself ask.

“It is your name, is it not? Wise Child. It is what your given name means,” he responded softly. “I imagine you do not wish your given name known, so I call you this instead.” Again he gave a slight bow, nodding his head and momentarily averting his eyes.

“Oh,” she said, feeling even more outclassed than she had before. How did this man know her name? Did those eyes let him read minds? The thought seized her heart in terror for a moment; such magic scared her more than any other she had encountered. For some reason Kayla couldn’t imagine this man as casting such invasive magic.

“You are hurt,” the man said when it became clear that Kayla was not good conversation at that particular moment. “May I?” he gestured with one effeminate hand towards her ankle. Kayla nodded before it really registered that he was offering healing, but wouldn’t have refused it in any case.

A strange sensation spread through the injured ankle; all the healing spells she had ever encountered were warm, sometimes hot to the person being healed. It was rare, but with a truly dangerous injury the healing could actually leave burns. This, on the other hand… well, it had the warmth she was used to, but it spread through her like cool water, and even as it burned and she felt the healing take hold, the coolness soothed the pain. Kayla simply stared as her benefactor finished the spell and smiled at her.

“Better?” he asked. She nodded. “Then perhaps I should allow the others to find me, that we may officially welcome you to our troupe,” he said, the small smile spreading slightly to indicate amusement. Kayla felt horribly out of her depth in talking to this man; she prayed he was not the Maestro.

A strange ripple passed through Kayla, and she felt as though a fog lifted. The strange man spoke to the woman that had first found Kayla, Rhianne, who was at the time standing right in front of them.

“You have no need to fear, Rhianne; this Child will do you no harm.”

One member of the troupe was still unaccounted for: the Maestro. Within the largest of the wagons, he watched the activity of his troupe with interest. It was always fun to observe others when they didn’t know you were there, but there was something exciting them tonight. A girl, it seemed—they had found a girl in the forest. He watched with interest as they bickered; they did not do that where he could hear. Disagree, yes; bicker, no. But then, he was the Maestro; they treated him with respect at all times.

Rhianne’s pronouncement that the girl was from the Guild surprised him. So young, how could she be associated with the Guild? He had thought they did not take anyone into apprenticeship until they were sixteen at least, and before that they weren’t a part of it, not really. But the Maestro couldn’t claim to be an expert on the Guild. Perhaps she was older than she looked.

He laughed to himself when they all scattered to locate Kardal. He himself barely knew anything about the strange man, but he did know that Kardal would not be found until he chose to be. It could be infuriating when you wanted to talk to him, but it was amusing when other people were being infuriated by it. The Maestro liked Kardal, in spite of all his… quirks.

So. The story was starting to take shape, the Maestro thought to himself. Rhianne naturally objected to the girl being brought here, if she was indeed of the Guild, and the Maestro had never known Rhianne to be wrong about that. Not that there had ever been much occasion… still. Rhianne didn’t want the girl here… it had probably been Jojo that brought her here, then. Jojo was one of few who could make Rhianne listen, or at least obey. Jojo had probably suggested asking the Maestro, he surmised, when someone else suggested Kardal. It was well known that the Maestro trusted Kardal’s judgment. More than that, he trusted his friend’s discretion… but the others didn’t see that so much.

And now they were searching for Kardal, to have him pronounce the girl a danger or not, before they would come to ‘wake’ him and tell him about the girl. The Maestro found himself hoping Kardal would let himself be found, soon. He wanted to know more about the girl. He could feel a change in the wind tonight… he laughed at himself for his thoughts. He had obviously been spending far too much time with Kardal. Speaking of… Kardal materialized out of the air behind Rhianne, causing her to shriek. That called the others in very handily, though she glared at Kardal for several minutes afterwards. Kardal spoke, smiling—more than usual, that was. He was always smiling a little. The girl stood up, brushed herself off, and blushed prettily.

Prettily? Where had that thought come from?

Jojo had his arm around the girl—little more than a child, the Maestro saw—and was walking her towards the wagon from which the Maestro was watching events unfold. He supposed he should pretend they just woke him up; if the troupe knew how little he slept, they would bother him with things all night long. A tap at the door; the Maestro swept it open as grandly as the limited space in the wagon would allow.

“Yes?” he asked, acting grumpy. The girl looked up at him, eyes large and brown like a puppy dog’s eyes when it has been misbehaving. She really was rather pretty.

“Sir, we have a…guest,” Jojo said, gesturing to the girl. The Maestro simply looked at Kardal, who nodded. That was it, then… but the strange man spoke.

“She has a harp, Maestro. Perhaps she is more than a guest?” The Maestro resisted the urge to roll his eyes; Kardal was never unsure about anything. He was prodding. The girl looked surprised, and like she was thinking of objecting.

“Very well,” the Maestro said, meeting first Kardal’s eyes, then the girl’s. “You will be called Cara. Welcome to our family.”