The Last Satyr: The Company is Formed Part 1
Preparations for Leaving

Immediately, the boy set about to do his part in replaceing another member for the gang to share in his glories ahead. He decided to ask Leradien for her advice, but the drider’s response showed him that he had brought his problem to an unpromising market, for she immediately tried to talk him out of leaving, even to the point of desperation. He was hoping she would join and solve both their problems, but she never did. She declined to help him with any suggestions either and reminded him instead of his promise to never leave her and always be her friend. If he left, she said, he’d be breaking that promise and, if he broke his promise to her, she could break her promise to him and capture him then and there.

The boy countered that the only reason he decided to leave in the first place was that Ronthiel had told him she’d tried to kill him when she’d promised the boy to protect him. And so he’d formed a gang for that purpose and couldn’t go back on his word to them, either. She was also welcome to offer to join the gang and go with him so he could keep his promise to her that way and, besides that, she had already broken her promise by trying to capture him yesterday. Leradien argued she’d saved that “despicable elf Ronthiel” and so had kept her promise, the gang didn’t want her, she’d never be anyone’s “cavalry”, and that the light of day hurt her eyes, anyway (Though she could endure it.). As for breaking her promise not to capture him, if she’d broken her promise then he would still be captured and a prisoner now, which he obviously was not—so, therefore, she hadn’t broken it.

How like a woman to win an argument! They never play fair. Don't they know the rules? The man is always right!

Even when he's wrong

So the boy brought up there was the problem of the displacer beast and how, if he stayed here, it meant to kill him, so he ought to leave. If he was worried about that, she said, he need only live with her and she’d protect him. Leradien also pointed out that, if he left, the displacer beast would still hunt his friend Ronthiel, as it had his scent, too. But, if he’d just allow her fairy’s blood, she’d hunt the displacer beast down and end both his and Ronthiel’s problems—and she knew just the two fairies she had in mind.

Except for the “fairy’s blood”, Leradien actually won the argument and he would have stayed in spite of his agreement with Graybeard. Still, the boy thought she ought to obey him, being a girl, and not threaten him. Whereas the drow girl thought he ought to obey her, being a boy, as all drow women ruled their men. Thus, they were at an impasse.

So he told her he wasn’t leaving forever and therefore was not breaking his promise, but she told him not to bother coming back. He had lost the one friend he idolized. Yet to keep his word to her he had to break his promise to three others. The math was simple yet deeply saddening.

So, they parted company for the last time.

Left on his own, the boy was soon at a loss to replace another member. He knew the gnomes, but they couldn’t keep up with a gang unless some animal carried them and they didn’t rob, anyway. They fixed things. That made them useless for any moneymaking enterprise.

He also knew the fairies who were quite willing to rob but who could only carry a single coin or nugget amongst them, and this they stole for themselves and not to share. Indeed! The only thing a fairy could be depended upon to do was to rob the other members of the gang. Otherwise, he only knew elves, and no elf was a robber.

Luckily, the boy remembered to finish his flute for Ronthiel, which was well-timed, for the very day he finished it was the same day Ronthiel also finished his bow. So they exchanged gifts, each one satisfied with the present of the other. The boy told him of his plans to leave then, and the elf listened. Afterward, he consented to join the gang (he called it a “troop”) of his own volition, being still indebted to the boy now twice over for saving his life (The boy told Ronthiel how Leradien had fought the displacer beast for him at his instruction and was now believed.). Besides, once he found out Graybeard was a member, he could not resist as, wherever his keeper went, he was obligated to follow. And, if he stayed here, there was still a displacer beast looking for him. Ronthiel was really quite willing to go.

This surprised but pleased the boy. He had found his new member Graybeard had asked him for.

The next day, the other boys returned to the island to get their weapons and came back as night fell to meet at the great old stump the boy had decided upon. Here, the forest was the orchestra of the mind, playing one enchanting symphony after another. The leaves danced to an unheard beat, whispering their songs to the wind. In here, sheltered by the mighty trees, is every kind of life, from the humble beetle to enchanting birds of every color.

There was Graybeard waiting, sitting on the stump and gently puffing at his pipe. A few minutes later, Ronthiel appeared with his bow to join them, with the boy introducing him to young Joe and Marroh the dwarf who arrived next.

They made a fire and roasted a pig, no one asking the boy where he got it. They turned it over a spit until the air was rich with its savory aroma and it tasted as delicious as it smelled as garlic was now added. Twice, as they feasted, they were led in song, first by Graybeard and then, not to be outdone as their captain, by the boy.

Three others joined now them, two human men and the elf, Duravane. The boy was shocked to see Duravane. He was the last person he expected—or wanted—to see (The stolen pig they were eating belonged to him.).

Duravane stopped before Graybeard and bowed.

“Here are the two you asked for,” he said.

“Humans?” Graybeard asked of the other two. “Most curious! I should not have thought humans would be willing to fight and die for elves.”

“I hired them,” Duravane explained.

“Mercenaries,” noted Graybeard. “Why am I not surprised you would stoop to that? But,” he admitted, “I made no such stipulations against hiring them.”

“This man,” Duravane said of one. “Is a man of the South named Belam.”

Belam was richly dressed, his cloak having a mink fur collar. The man also wore a silver necklace with a single, smooth, polished greenstone; and with his brown locks shorn just above his shoulders. His proud eyes left Graybeard to look at the boy with keen wonder and surprise. No doubt, the boy was the first satyr he had ever seen.

“And this,” Duravane said of the second man, “is Amien, a man of the West.”

Amien wore silver chain mail under his cloak with a silver star as its breastplate. These were both fighting men. He, too, noticed the boy, but with only a passing glance, his attention being on Graybeard.

“It has been a long time since I talked with humans,” Graybeard told them. “For they can be either good or bad as their mood suits them. How does your mood suit you?”

“We are warriors but not murderers,” Amien replied, “if that is your question.”

“It is,” said Graybeard. “This boy will be your leader. Is that agreeable to both of you?”

“This child?” gasped Belam. “Why should grown men obey a child?”

“Why should a keeper obey a boy?” answered Graybeard. “Yet the satyr is my captain.”

“And who is his general?” demanded Belam. “For I take no orders from a child.”

Everyone looked at the boy for an answer.

“Young Joe is captain of the guard,” he said quietly.

“And who is young Joe?” Belam asked.

Young Joe stood up fearfully to identify himself. The two men gazed at him in obvious surprise. They were to obey, not one, but two children?

“What is this?” asked an amazed Belam.

Amien saw that young Joe was armed and so told him. “Draw your sword.”

The human boy reluctantly drew it.

“Defend yourself,” Amien instructed, drawing his own sword.

“But mine is not as big as yours,” said Joe.

“It’s not how big and sharp your sword is that matters. It’s what you do with it.”

In a flash, he swung his sword twice at young Joe. Out of startled instinct, Joe twice parried and then even countered with his own thrust back.

“His parry is quick and his thrust good,” Amien declared, stepping back. “I shall serve him.”

“At least he’s human,” Belam added. “We can always teach him to fight.”

“Then you shall serve him also?” Graybeard asked Belam.

“I do not serve children. There is no honor in that.”

“Would you serve children in order to protect them?”

“Protect them? Yes. There is honor in that. But obey them? Hardly!”

“But if his orders were agreeable, would you?”

Belam gave a reluctant slow nod. He would.

“Do you offer the boy your sword?”

“I do.”

“And you, Amien? Will you serve him?”

“I will.”

“You need to know our enemy,” Graybeard told them both, before turning to Marroh the dwarf. “Tell us the enemy of the dwarves.”

The two men stepped closer to hear.