by C S Boyack
"I think so," James said. He squeezed more water from his shoulder length brown hair. "We'll know as soon as the lieutenant finishes his supper."
"Unless they load us back up and take us further inland," Dan said.
"It's possible, but they probably would have left our irons on. I think whoever wants us is here, and we're about to find out why."
The lieutenant and his men returned then they were marched through the city streets under heavy guard. Twilight revealed the first twinkling of stars. Lamplighters went about their task as people headed home for the day.
Cobblestone streets wove alongside a canal system and a small lake. Rowboats covered the water in what appeared to be pleasure boating excursions.
An imposing city wall surrounded the entire area. The wall served as the backdrop for a barracks and storage facilities for armaments. Gun placements aimed toward potential fields of attack beyond the wall, and several were aimed at what James suspected to be the river.
Covered carts grouped at the intersections they passed, no doubt doing a thriving business during the daylight hours.
The tower loomed ahead and confirmed James' suspicions. If the Earl wasn't behind this, it was someone else high up in the government.
After a brief wait in a bare room, they were led into an office chamber inside the tower.
The sole occupant of the office wore a powdered wig and an elaborate coat. He sat behind an ornate carved wooden desk. The lieutenant whispered something to him, then stepped aside and behind the prisoners.
"I am Davis LeForge, seventh Earl of Grandelor." the man said. "No doubt you've heard of me. You might be shocked to find I've heard of you too."
The prisoners remained silent.
"It seems you can run, but you can't hide. You are James Cuttler, recently First Officer James Cuttler on a merchant ship called The Mandy." He pointed at the others. "You are Bonnie Philson, and you, Dan Philson, are of no consequence to my venture tonight."
"Perhaps you can let them go and tell me how I can be of service," James said.
"I could, but I prefer to have a bit of insurance in these matters." He fiddled with the lace ruffle on his shirt cuff. "James Cuttler, you are the notorious spy and wargler behind the war of the six kingdoms. Your king has need of your services."
"I'm afraid you've got the wrong man, sir. I am a simple sailor."
"Today, yes. Previously, no. Tomorrow, yes again. I'd like to get to the point. His Majesty desires a war with Prelonia, and you're going to start it for him. You will force Prelonia to fire the first shots so that Hollish will appear to be the victim of an aggressor."
"I will do this for you, if you let the others go."
"Hmmph. You aren't in any position to bargain here. You see, they are my leverage to inspire you to complete the job.
"Miss Philson will remain my guest until the job is finished. Mr. Philson will go with you to provide your guard with someone to shoot if you require additional motivation."
"Such work requires money and equipment. I'll need uniforms, horses, and occasional volunteers."
"I will provide your guard with funds. All expenditures will be approved by the lieutenant. He alone has access to additional funds via my personal bank." The Earl rang a small bell, then a servant entered. "What's keeping that mason? We need to prepare Miss Philson's quarters."
The servant promised to look into it, then left.
"Where you gonna keep her?" Dan asked.
The Earl gave an indulgent smile. "She will stay here in the tower. Safest place in the entire country. We're going to wall her inside her room, and she will stay there until you finish the job." He turned back to James. "So how are you going to pull this off?"
"I need to go to the library in Prelonia. They have the best records in the world, and I need to see any political weaknesses that might be exploited. May I ask why?"
The Earl paused. "After several long dry winters and a bit of drought in the summers, Hollish can no longer feed itself. We're reduced to buying grain from Prelonia or importing it via ship from elsewhere. His Majesty believes that one larger country would be more efficient, benefitting from our military and their croplands combined. They also have undeveloped areas along the south coast that would make anchorage for the Royal Navy. Securing those areas gives us a route to the east for more beneficial trading."
"I swear on my honor, and my life, that I will do this task. Please let Miss Philson go."
The Earl stood. "You leave at dawn. Now where is that mason?"
Their meeting ended. Dan and James were escorted back to the jail, over the cries of Bonnie.
The jailer brought in blankets. James stepped on the man's foot and they collided while transferring the bedding. "So sorry. Are you alright?"
"Watch yourself, mate. I have the right to shoot escaping prisoners."
"I assure you I meant no harm. Sore legs from the ride here, and thank you for the blankets."
When the jailer left, Dan whispered, "You ain't no wargler. I've known you practically my whole life. You moved to the coast when you were twelve."
"You're right, but my father was. Everything the Earl said is true... about my father. He was a royal spy for Saphelon, and started the war of the six kingdoms."
"Then we just tell him that."
"He won't want his plans revealed. Now that we know, he'll kill us before he lets us go. Our best bet is to go through with it."
"People die in war, thousands of them. Innocent ones too. How can you treat them any different than Bonnie?"
"I don't know. That's why my father tossed me onto a wagon one night and fled himself. Seems like they let him go, but someone kept tabs on him. I don't know how they confused the two of us, but we might be lucky they did."
"You look just like him. Scrape the barnacles off your old man and give him some color back in his hair and nobody could'a told you apart."
"I wish he was able to help. I'll do the work, but I could use his advice about now."
James paced the cell nearly the whole night to the growing sounds of Dan's snoring.
When the guards showed up, they were out of uniform and wearing workmen's clothing. Even the horses had been saddled in common and worn livery. "You two drive the wagon," the Lieutenant said. "We will escort you. It's much easier to shoot people fleeing by wagon than on horseback. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir," they both mumbled. Dan mounted the wagon then grabbed the reins. James paused and stared at the tower.
"Get on with it, Mr. Cuttler. Follow Mr. Loomis. He'll lead us out of the city."
With that, James climbed aboard, Dan urged the horses ahead, and Mr. Loomis made for the eastern gate.
James looked everywhere as they left. Nothing escaped his vision. Taverns, city guards, roadways, canals, and more. After leaving the city he stood on the seat to look back at the formidable wall and its guns.
"Sit down, Mr. Cuttler," the lieutenant said from alongside. "She is quite safe in the tower. You won't be helping her if you fall and break your neck."
James took his seat. He patted his coat pocket before reaching inside. He extracted a small strip of leather, bound his hair into a ponytail, then replaced his hat.
Dan whispered after the lieutenant moved out of range. "There's only three of them now. What do you suppose happened to the other two?"
"No idea. They probably think having Bonnie is enough to keep us compliant."
"Well, it is. We can't let anything happen to her. I don't know anything about starting no wars, so I hope you do."
"My father told me stories. That's all I've got."
They crossed a substantial area of failing cropland where downtrodden slaves picked away at patches of dirt. Their eyes revealed who took the blame for the poor harvest.
Camp became an open patch part way up the mountains. The forest returned, but even it was dry and unwholesome feeling. A spring provided enough water for horses, but the men had to rely on the water barrel.
James and Dan moved stones for a fire pit, then gathered a substantial pile of wood.
Mr. Loomis stopped them when they moved for the coffee pot. "Keep working. Maybe the next traveler won't have to work so hard."
"We're tired now," James said.
"Not tired enough." Loomis tossed a hatchet at his feet then pointed. "Cut down that tree and turn it into firewood."
"It's green and won't burn."
"It will for the next men. I expect you to work on it deep into the night, and don't get any funny ideas. I'm the best shot in my regiment."
James and Dan took turns with the hatchet. Blisters formed on their hands.
"I'd like to fell this tree right on his fat head," Dan said.
"A little work won't kill us, but I wish we had gloves."
"Your eye's still red. Think it will stay that way?"
"Hope not. The lump has gone down, but it's still tender. You?"
"Mine's about gone, but it's sore if I touch it."
The lieutenant barked out, "You two, back to the fire now, and drop that hatchet." He pointed to a bush south of the camp. "There, behind that bush. Loomis, Fetch, get him."
The men hurried to the fire then sat where the lieutenant pointed. The other guards charged the bush.
They captured an old black man dressed in rags, then dragged him to the fire. He was short, but thin, like he hadn't eaten for a long time. His head was shaved completely bald.
"Got him," Fetch said. "What should we do with him, Sir?"
"Lynch him, I say," Loomis input.
"Not so fast," the lieutenant said. "There's a decent reward paid for runaways. Put some irons on him. We'll turn him in when we get to Loremont. We'll pass through tomorrow and put in a claim for the reward.
Fetch ran to the wagon then returned with shackles for the runaway's arms and legs.
After the runaway was secured, Mr. Loomis kicked James in the pants. "Back to your work."
"We're getting hungry," James said.
"You won't starve. I don't know what's taking so long anyway. Shoot some worthless dignitary somewhere while wearing a Prelonia uniform, and let's get this war started." He stepped into James' face. "We'll need officers in a war, and I intend to be one of them. I don't care if you worthless fucks get yourself killed after the assassination, as long as we get the war going. Hell, we could do it tomorrow. Who's the Lord High Mayor of Loremont? He's as good as anyone. Shout 'Viva Prelonia' before they cut you down."
Loomis continued his tirade as he bumped James with his chest.
James dropped a hand into his pocket then pulled out a tiny derringer. Loomis stopped mid-word as he heard the cocking sound then reached for his knife. James stuck the pistol under Loomis' chin and blew his brains out. As Loomis fell, James drew the knife from the dead man's belt.
He charged Mr. Fetch while Dan tackled the lieutenant.
Fetch raised his musket, but James came in too fast. He parried the rifle barrel with the knife, then jerked the weapon forward, forcing Fetch to fire off into the forest. Once inside the range of the bayonet, James forced the knife deep into his chest.
He caught the rifle as Mr. Fetch fell, then turned toward Dan and the Lieutenant.
Dan had both arms around the soldier, preventing him from drawing his saber or pistol.
"I think you said the bayonet is a terrible way to go," James said before ending the lieutenant's life at the end of the sharp spike.
"What'd you do that for?" Dan screamed. "And where'd you get a pistol?"
"We can't have them forcing things before they're ready. You heard Loomis. He'd botch everything and Bonnie would pay the price. Jailers often carry a small pistol, so I took a chance and stole this one."
"How do you know so much about jails?"
"I'm a sailor, not a priest. And you don't have to live with blood on your hands."
"No, it's just on my shirt and in my hair. What about that one?" Dan nodded toward the slave.
"I guess we should feed him, give him one of the knives, then set him free. Let's search the bodies first."
After rifling through the dead men's pockets, Dan took stock. "Two muskets with bayonets, a pistol, one saber and two fighting knives."
"We need to look at the small things too. My father said that's important. We have three clay pipes, some shag tobacco, various belts, boots and coins. I wish they'd have worn uniforms. Posing as Hollish soldiers along the border might stir things up in Prelonia."
"I don't think two soldiers would raise much of an alarm."
"True, but it's a start. We need to hide these bodies and get away from this spot. Then I want to look through the Lieutenant's papers. He has access to the Earl's bank, and we're going to need money."
They each grabbed a body then started dragging them into the forest. The old man grabbed the third one, but his irons tangled in the undergrowth.
"Let's get those irons off," Dan said. He set the old man free then went back to his own body.
"We need to pick up those irons on the way back. They might come in handy, and I don't want to leave any more clues than we have to." James said.
They found a narrow gap in a rock outcrop then stuffed the dead men inside. James used the saber to cut brush and cover them as much as possible.
They loaded what few items they had in the wagon. James tucked the Lieutenant's pistol in Dan's belt. "We could run into trouble on the road, and this isn't as obvious as one of the muskets."
They climbed onto the wagon. James turned to the slave again. "You're free to go. Keep that knife hidden and good fortune to you."
"No," the old man said. "I help."
"We have no use for a slave. Ours is a dangerous path, and it's no place for an old man." With that, he turned the horses back to the road, then headed for the city of Loremont.
Chapter Four
James turned off the road onto a rugged mountain trail. The path was devoid of tracks, and seemed to lead someplace nobody went any longer.
Dan rubbed his eyes. "Finally, time to camp?"
"Soon. This is a small deviation, but we should be able to camp up ahead."
"Good. I'm about to fall off this wagon."
Camp was no more than a patch of grass among the trees. James picketed the horses, then Dan made a small fire before placing out some bedding for the night.
James awoke before dawn when the owlcats stopped hooting in the trees. A scent of shag tobacco filled his nostrils. He slipped a hand into his pocket and grabbed the derringer before opening one eye.
The old slave stood straight beside the fire on one leg. His other foot was placed against his knee in a figure four. The tobacco came from his pipe. "Help you," was all he said.
Dan startled awake, and James placed a hand on him. The old man didn't seem to mean any harm.
They took time to enjoy coffee before breaking camp.
James looked up from the Lieutenant's papers. "It seems he had access to money at various banks we might visit. If we were to remove those funds, we could buy various uniforms and spread some rumors to help us along."
"Shame we never learned his real name," Dan said.
"I'll have to think about it. Would the banker know him by sight or by name? Maybe these papers will be enough. Topic for another day. Today, we're heading for that rock outcrop." James pointed in the distance.
"What for?" Dan asked. "I thought we were going to Loremont then Prelonia."
"We are. I just want to look for something. It may not be there, but if it is, it would be helpful."
They drove as close to the rocks as possible, but Dan elected to ride a horse. It was already noon, so they made camp once more.
James started searching the various crevasses and narrows. He looked up toward Dan. "See if there is a lantern or torch in the wa
gon, and bring it to me."
The wagon held two candle lanterns, which Dan lit before bringing them up. "Did you find what you're looking for?"
"I think so. It's a cave with some of my father's things. If they're still inside, we need to find a way to get them out. We put them here after we fled from Saphelon."
"There could be dogbears inside." Dan drew his pistol.
"Good thinking." James shinnied through the crack.
The inside was little more than a tunnel with minimal stalactites hanging from above. It led to a small chamber.
"Would you look at that?" Dan said. "A wagon and some cannons."
"I don't remember the guns, and they're mortars not cannons."
The guns were iron, approximately two-and-a-half feet long, and about the same diameter. They were mounted in some kind of sledge boxes.
A round topped gypsy wagon sat against the far wall. James made for it then looked inside. "A rat's nest, but nothing we can't clean up a bit."
"What we need it for? We've got the other one already."
"There are things in the wagon that might be helpful, and it will be a lot more comfortable."
"How the hell are you going to get it out of here? How'd he get it in here?"
"People were looking for us along the main roads. We hid out here for weeks. He used the local stone to wall the wagon inside. There are explosives placed in the wall. All we have to do is light the fuses, then hide back in the tunnel until they go off."
"You can hide in the tunnel. I'm getting out of here. I'll bring a horse around after I hear the explosion."
"Good idea. No reason for us both to be in here."
Dan helped James find four fuses then left.
The old man tended something on the fire. He had a cooking pot on and carefully fed sticks into the flames to maintain a consistent heat.
"Smells delicious," Dan said. "What is it?"
The old slave reached carefully down to the water level and grabbed a clump of hair. He pulled the head skin of the lieutenant from the boiling water.
Dan back-pedaled to the cave opening. The explosion went off knocking him to the ground. He ran to the nearest horse and grabbed for its reins. The horse was in a panic to equal his own.
