Leroy Damafage and the Arrow of Dreams
an excerpt

“Besides,” Leroy said, “there'll be plenty of good stuff to go around once we reach the Arrow.”

Mikele shook her head. We'd entertained her and Ales the previous night with stories of Westport and all the Elven stuff which formed the heart of the city; I don't think they really believed us.

“Assuming someone like the Ch'kee hasn't found wherever it is and looted it already.”

“If they've done that,” Leroy said, “then the Arrow's gone. As I'm not going to entertain that possibility, I'm going to assume that the Arrow is still there, and with it, the customary attendant stuff.”

He studied her for a bit.

“You know, Elven weapons may have been, in general, terrible, but every now and again they'd make a decent runeblade, or something out of good, quality steel. Given your size, and assuming the presence of Elven weapons along with the Arrow, we might just find something that'll fit your hand.”

She looked down at the eggs and muttered something.

“Come again?”

“I said I wouldn't know how to use it!”

“You've never learned sword-work?”

“My... my father wouldn't allow it. He said a blade wasn't a woman's place.”

A silly attitude, I've always thought. Brigands and other such troublesome folk don't really distinguish between armed or unarmed, man or woman. But we've seen that attitude in a lot of places, and one in particular.

“Would you like to learn?” Leroy asked quietly. “I could teach you.”

She studied him; not suspiciously, but just a bit warily.

“Why? You know I'll likely stay in Crabapple when this is over, so with the militia around, why would I need to know how?”

“Because the militia won't be around you forever. And because you won't stay in Crabapple,” he said gently. “You're a wanderer, Mikele, just like us. You and Ales both; you've both taken to this trip too eagerly and too well to be anything else. You're trying to find a home, better than the one you left, and you've got a decent enough setup, there in the Village, but you managed to arrive right on the vanguard of a whole heap of trouble. Folks there are nice enough, but you're finding that the only ones who really like you, and are more than just nice enough, are John and Father Marvin, and good men as they are, they aren't really enough.”

She sat there, frozen; I moved over next to her, gently took the spatula, and started tending the eggs.

“Eventually you'll get tired of it and leave,” he continued, “or somebody – most likely Ales – will start something and you'll have to leave. It's happened before, hasn't it?”

She nodded.

“How did you know?”

“I come from a long line of merchants, darlin',” he said with a smile. “My parents own one of the family shipping firms, and the also run a back-room gambling saloon where customers bet on whom is involved with whom in the city, but that's not important. What's important is that it's granted to us to be exceedingly able to read to people. It's the key to the family success, I've the talent my own self.”

“So you can read me like a book,” she said. “Is that it?”

“I can read everyone like a book, unless they're really good at not being read, or if the ink is smudged.”

“Which lets you tell people what they want to hear?”

“Or need to hear, in some cases.”

“In that case, Leroy Damafage, what are you trying to tell me?”

“All I'm trying to say, Mikele Sunschilda,” he said very carefully, “is that sometimes the Road can be a home all it's own.”

“It hasn't been for us.”

“I know. And I wish that weren't true,” he said quietly. “But then again,” he continued, now more sprightly, “you've taken well to the first rule of surviving on the Road.”

He gestured at the fire.

“Eating?”

“Eating! Food and water are the most important parts! And I'd like to see,” he said, going all quiet again, “if you'll take equally well to the second rule of surviving on the Road.”

He drew one of the swords – the runeblade – and held it out to her.

“What do you say? Care to learn the sword? Because when you travel again, you'll need more than arrows and shaman's knife to cover you.”

“I don't know. I can do some pretty useful things with this knife.”

“I don't doubt that at all,” he grinned.

They sat there for another long moment, each completely still. Then Mikele reached out, slowly, and grasped the sword by the hilt.