The next morning, Dodger and Garinor made their way to the main Daggerfist camp. It looked like any other camp to Garinor, but a little larger and a bit more organized. There was a large fire pit in the center of the area with numerous tents staggered around in concentric circles. He was brought in to one of the tents, where a young woman named Brush was inking up a parchment with colorful paints.
“Oh, Dodger, it’s been a while!” she greeted, then turned to Garinor. “And good morning to you.”
“Hello, I’m Garinor,” he greeted her with a slight nod of his head.
She raised her eyebrow at the use of his real name. “Surely you know better than to give away your identity here,” Brush said with a slight tone of admonishment.
Dodger excused himself while he went to report in to the General. Meanwhile, Brush showed Garioner her numerous paints and talked about what she was doing.
“My brother, Sketch, and I are artists by trade. He draws mostly with coal or other dark materials. I prefer the brilliant dyes like these.” She motioned to her palette that held a rainbow of hues. “The trouble is that these are harder to create and find, so they cost more unless I prepare them myself, which takes time.”
She pointed to a blob of crimson on the palette. “That one is from an insect that eats from certain oaks, but the dye only comes from the female kind. It’s not easy trying to capture enough of them for this so I often tend to dilute it and it’s not nearly as bright as it could be. I save that for special projects. Other times I’ll use a red dye from the roots of a madder plant, which is easier to find.”
“Madder plant?”
She smiled. “That’s just the name of the plant. It doesn’t mean it’s angry,” she added with a wink. “The yellowish orange color here is from saffron. It’s a flower,” she said when Garinor shook his head. “Those are easier to come by, so I don’t need to modify them. You see that small bit of purple over there? That’s the most expensive. That particular shade comes from a small gland inside a spiny sea snail. Very hard to collect, and if you harvest too many snails at once you risk losing the whole population of them. Some of these colors are from berries, others from fungus. A few of them need to be treated with other powders so the color lasts. Those are called mordants, and sometimes you have to use them before you start and sometimes you apply the mordant after you’re finished. It all depends on the canvas you’re using and what shades you want.”
“It all sounds so complicated.”
“Indeed, and that’s why my brother favors the baser materials, but he stills creates some great designs.”
Garinor admired the landscape she was working on. “He can’t possibly draw something as beautiful as this!”
Brush slapped his hand in embarrassment. “Oh now come on. You can’t be serious. It isn’t even half finished!”
Dodger returned and brought Garinor out of the tent. “The General will see you soon, but he needs to prepare for the prince’s arrival, now that he’s fully aware the prince is on the move. For now, you’ll spend your day with one of the other new recruits. Like you, he’s still searching for his own Daggerfist name, but he’s more aware of some of the happenings here and so he can instruct you. As for me, I have to help with the preparations.”
Garinor was taken to a tent on the north side of the camp and Dodger left him there to walk inside on his own. He pushed open the tent flap and nearly stumbled as he entered.
“Tomli!”
His best friend sat on the ground, legs crossed, assuming an astute pose, but he couldn’t hold it for long. He cracked into a laugh and then jumped up to embrace his friend and welcome him inside. “Gar, it’s so good to see you!”
“I can’t believe it’s really you. That you’re actually here. How?”
“I found that clue you left for me.”
“Clue?”
“In your soggy nightclothes. You know, that necklace? The symbol of the Daggerfists.” He reached into his pocket and procured it for Garinor.
“I—I didn’t mean that as a hint. I just took it off the guard who took me from home. I can’t believe it ended up in your hands!”
Tomli put the necklace back into his pocket and laughed. “That’s pretty funny that you didn’t mean for me to find it. It seemed a great hint to me.”
“I didn’t even know who the Daggerfists were until a couple days ago.”
Tomli’s brows furrowed but then he shrugged again. “Well, after you were gone I felt I needed to do something. Besfa was hurt, and Marrin…”
“What… happened?”
Tomli frowned and gestured for Garinor to sit. “Besfa took a hit to the arm, but he’ll be fine. You know him, he’ll go around boasting about how he fought off fifty men and all he got was that scar. But Marrin… Well, he wasn’t as lucky. They got him, Gar. The hunters who were after you. He threw himself into their line of fire in order to stop them. He… he didn’t stand a chance.”
Garinor’s eyes fell to the floor. “I can’t believe it.”
Tomli put a consoling hand on Garinor’s shoulder. “That’s why I had to do something. I couldn’t let his death be for nothing. I didn’t know what to do, but then I found that necklace and I decided to find others wearing them.”
Garinor nodded but then looked at Tomli in earnest. “What made you think there would be others like them?”
Tomli blushed a little at the question and Garinor knew his friend well enough to understand that he wanted to keep that part secret for now, but Tomli said, “I had a hunch. So I went out and found a roving patrolman who helped me. And eventually I wound up here.”
“Your journey sounds nice and simple.”
Tomli chuckled. “It wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. We had to avoid some other patrols and things, but you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
They talked a while, catching up on the things that had happened to them over the past several days. Eventually, a guard came into the tent and announced that the General was ready for them. Tomli showed Garinor the way with a strange light in his eyes. It was almost as if he had been waiting for this moment. Tomli took him to the largest and most durable tent in the camp. Tomli entered and let the flaps fall closed, leaving Garinor outside.
He knew he had been summoned, so Garinor only waited a moment in hesitation before he pushed his way into the tent. His brief confusion at why Tomli had not held the flap for him dissipated quickly, once he saw the General across the way.
“Greetings, Garinor,” said the General.
“Father!” he gasped, hardly daring to believe his eyes. “But how?”
Terrian looked at his son with pride. “You’ve done well to come this way, Son. I see your confusion, but the truth is that my life’s work has been organizing the forces of the Daggerfists. All Daggerfists have served one main purpose since its inception, and that has been to protect the heir to the throne. The true king. But that also meant protecting the others whom the king and later, the prince, would identify as the heir.” He looked into his son’s eyes. “I deeply regret, Garinor, the lies that have been part of your life because of our work.”
Before Garinor could respond, the tent flap opened and a guard entered. “Forgive me, General, but the prince has come.”
With a sigh, Terrian stood up and he went to the tent flap. “Stay here. We’ll discuss this further later.”
He left the tent and Garinor looked at Tomli. “You knew all this.”
His friend was beaming. “Yes. It’s been a long time, actually, but we all swore not to say anything to you. Your father felt that if you knew, it would make things worse. I hated keeping it from you, but there really weren’t any times that it would have come up.”
Garinor considered all the times they had shared and he had to agree. Their own conversation didn’t last for long, though, for the prince had arrived.