Free Stories 2014

by Baen Books

  I sat on the bench beside the water barrel. “Keep watch,” I told my bear, and closed my eyes.

  #

  Waves crashed over me, but I’d been soaked to the bone for days. Something rough brushed up against my feet. I kicked the shark, telling it I was still alive, telling it to find easier prey. Three men still clung to the mast with me. “Hang on,” I told them. “Just hang on.”

  “There’s no point,” Radik said feebly. “We’ll never make it. We should just give up now.”

  I wanted to give up. Wanted to let my grip slack and to slip beneath the waves. I pulled myself a little higher on the mast. Inside me, the bear urged me to stay alive. We can’t give up, it whispered.

  #

  I jerked awake, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. Someone comes, the bear told me. Several men. Drunk.

  I let the bear’s power sharpen my senses. Yes. Three or four men, stumbling toward us. I could smell the beer they’d been drinking, the horse droppings one had stepped in, the faint reek of charcoal that always clung to Wil. I didn’t move.

  “Just grab the cart,” Wil hissed. His knife whispered as he drew it from the scabbard. I could smell the oil on it. “When the boy comes down, I’ll deal with him.”

  “Not very hospitable of you,” I said.

  They started. Two of the drunks stumbled into each other. Wil peered at me. “Davik?” he asked. “Is that you? Why are you here?”

  I stood up, keeping the stable wall at my back. “My leg was bothering me, so I thought I’d rest. You fellows woke me up with all the noise you were making.” Inside the barn, one of the horses whinnied. I heard a board creak. Good, Alan must be awake. “Just go home,” I said.

  “He’s got gold,” Wil said. “Lots of gold. Enough to make us all rich. I’ll give you a share.”

  “Are you always this stupid or does the beer help?” I asked. “He’s a nobleman, from upriver. You can’t kill him and get away with it. They’ll burn down the whole village in repayment.”

  “We’ll tell them he was never here.” Wil licked his lips. “Don’t be a fool, Davik. We’ll go through you first if we have to. You’re unarmed and a cripple. You’re just going to get hurt.”

  I sighed and stepped in front of the door. “Don’t do something we’re both going to regret in the morning, Wil.” Months of peace and quiet, and now it was going to end over a worthless suit of golden armor.

  He eyed me. I could see his muscles tense. “Get him!” he said, and they were on me.

  The bear roared. Its power rushed into my limbs, gave me strength and speed. Wil started to swing his knife and I grabbed his wrist. His eyes widened. I twisted, and he screamed and dropped the knife. His friends pummeled me from both sides but with the bear in me, I barely felt their fists. Wil clawed at my face with his other hand, so I brought my knee up into his stomach and sent him to the ground.

  My heart raced. The bear’s feelings infected me; the joy of combat rushed through my blood. I grabbed the two hitting me by their necks and smashed their heads together. They dropped into the mud in front of me.

  The last man had a knife, too. He eyed me warily. For a moment I thought he was going to run. Then, from the ground, Wil seized my ankle and pulled hard. I went to one knee. The knife man rushed me. I scooped up Wil’s knife from where he’d dropped it and stabbed upward. The man’s knife grazed my cheek and mine sank into his gut. He dropped, groaning.

  I scrambled up and kicked Wil, hard. He grunted and lay still. “Alan!” I called. “Get the cart. You can’t stay here.” Nor could I, not now. I’d have to find another backwater to bury myself in.

  Alan opened the stable door behind me. He had a sword clutched in his hands and he was trembling. “I should have done something,” he said, staring at the prone men. The one I’d stabbed was moaning, clutching his stomach. There was blood everywhere. Good. He’d die fast, of blood loss. Not slow and screaming. Belly wounds were a bad death. “I didn’t know what to do,” Alan said again.

  I took the sword away from him. “Let’s go,” I said.

  “How did you do that?” Alan asked, hitching his horses up to the cart as I hauled the unconscious men out of our way. “You’re a cripple.”

  “Don’t need my leg much in that sort of fighting,” I said. It hadn’t so much as twinged since the start of the fight.

  You know if you’d let me, I could heal that leg faster than you can blink, my bear muttered. I ignored it and threw open the other door. Alan climbed into the seat and urged the horses forward. As he passed me, I grabbed on and swung myself up next to him.

  He stared at me, eyes wide. The moon cast shadows on his face, making him look even younger. “What are you doing?”

  “Coming with you,” I said. I pointed at Wil and friends. “There’s one who’ll be dead by morning and three who’ll be aching for revenge. Doubt I’ll be welcome around here anymore. You owe me a debt and I intend to collect.”

  #

  We were three days north of Karls Fork, and there’d been no sign of pursuit. I helped Alan make camp each night, and he shared his food willingly enough. The first two days he’d tried to ask me questions about Prince Garadon and the shipwreck. Today he’d kept silent.

  After supper, he pulled back the canvas and lifted the ornate breastplate out of the back of the cart. He slipped it on over his tunic. I laughed as he tried to fasten it himself. “Even if you could reach the straps, it’s not sized to you,” I said from my seat on a fallen log.

  “I’ve worn armor before,” he puffed. He tried bending his elbow the wrong way around, which worked about as well as you’d think.

  “What are you trying to do?” I asked.

  “I’ve wasted months looking for Prince Garadon.” He abandoned the straps and grabbed the greaves from the cart. “I need to get back to practicing now, though.”

  “Practicing what?”

  “Swordfighting, of course.” Alan strapped the greaves to his legs. He picked up his sword and swung it like a farmer wielding a scythe. I choked. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

  “You’re well-born. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to use a sword?”

  He glared at me before ripping the breastplate off. “I had a teacher. I’m just out of practice.” He took a deep breath and went through the first sword drill. His form left openings big enough to drive a cart through.

  Is this what you’re reduced to? the bear asked. Mocking someone who still has a warrior spirit?

  “You’re very intent,” I said, watching him. “Why?”

  “I need to be ready to fight by midsummer.” His face was red, his words clipped. “Ana needs me.”

  “Ana’s your cousin, the one betrothed to Garadon?”

  “We heard the rumors that he was dead, three months ago, but she wouldn’t believe them. Ana’s father is sick. Dying, probably. And my brother John wants to be king. He tried to force Ana to marry him. She stalled. Said Garadon might not be dead. The wedding is supposed to be at midsummer. John persuaded the other lords that if Garadon didn’t arrive, Ana should marry him.”

  Midsummer was three weeks off. He could be in Theianbridge by then, certainly, but… “I still don’t understand why you need to be in fighting shape?”

  “Ana said if she must marry, she’ll marry whoever wins the wedding tournament.” Alan must have seen my confused look. “It’s a Theis custom. There’s always a tournament at important weddings. Once or twice, a bride’s lover has challenged her betrothed. So it’s not that far out of custom. John agreed, of course. But he doesn’t expect anyone to actually face him. Ana sent me to search for Prince Garadon. She hoped the rumors were wrong. She hoped he wasn’t dead.”

  I watched Alan attack the air a few more times. He changed his stance and slashed sideways. I shook my head. “Tell me you’re not planning what I think.”

  “I’m going to challenge my brother.” Alan puffed mightily as he swung. “There, I’m getting the hang of it.”

  “Why not just let
him marry the princess? She needs a husband, he wants to be king. Seems like it’ll work out fine,” I said.

  “My brother is barely a passable earl. He’ll make a dreadful king. A generation ago we didn’t even have a king. Just a bunch of squabbling lords. Theianbridge was sacked three times in forty years because none of the other Theis lords would send men to her defense. Then the Aradori arrived, and King Robert — he was just lord of Theianbridge then — allied with them.” Alan kept up a steady rhythm of swings. “That’s when we made Robert our king. I guess he shoved it down their throats. More or less said ‘you can bow to me, or you can bow to this bunch of savage berkserkers from the east, but you’ll bow’.” He turned to me, his ears pink. “Ah. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “No, no, we’re savage berserkers,” I agreed. “It’s a good reputation to have when you’re trying to conquer a continent.”

  “Without a strong man as king, we’ll fall apart again. John’s not the man to rule. Ana knows it. I know it.”

  “And you’re the right man?” I asked.

  “I’m not going to marry her.” He looked away. “I just want to give her a chance to find a better man.”

  I stood up and looked around in the brush just beyond our camp. “What are you doing?” Alan asked.

  “Here.” I tossed him a long stick. He caught it clumsily. I found another for myself. “Put down the sword before you put your eye out.”

  He eyed me warily. “You’re going to help me?”

  “No, I’m going to show you how stupid you’re being.” I flicked my wrist and struck his ribs with my stick.

  “Ow!”

  “Defend yourself then.” I struck him again, on the shoulder this time. Then on the leg. Then the ribs again. He flailed about with his stick, not even close to blocking me. I thumped him a few more times. “There. If this was a sword, you’d be dead five times already,” I said.

  He scowled at me. “Don’t stop. I was almost getting the hang of it.”

  I sighed and hit him again. And again. And again — but this time he got his arm up and my stick landed on his wrist. “There!” he said happily.

  “Yes. This time, I took off your hand instead of your head.”

  “Again,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

  “I can do this all night.”

  “So can I.” He stuck out his jaw. “I only have three weeks. You know how to fight. Teach me.”

  “Why should I?”

  He frowned. “I can reward you.”

  I didn’t want any reward, but something about his naiveté tugged at me. I remembered being like that. Perhaps I could find a way to make him see reason before his idealism was so painfully stripped away. The world didn’t need another washed up cynic. I circled him. My bear was very near the surface, eager for the chance to act. I didn’t need the bear to teach the boy a thing or two. But damn, it felt good to have a weapon in my hand again. Even just a broken stick. You see? the bear asked. You can take the Aradori out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the Aradori.

  “First,” I said. “You need to learn how to hold a sword properly.”

  #

  It took us three weeks to reach Theianbridge. Every morning I resolved to leave. Every evening Alan picked up his sword and asked for another beating. Every night after our practice, I wanted to tell Alan to give up. He’d never be ready in time. But his eagerness, the way he picked himself back up each time I knocked him down, stopped me.

  It was evening when we arrived at the inn on the outskirts of Theianbridge.“We’ll lay low here and send word to Ana,” Alan said. “I need to let her know we’re here.”

  “And tell her what?” I followed Alan across the yard, favoring my leg. The nightly practice sessions made my calf ache. Alan had improved. At least now he knew how to hold a sword without dropping it.

  “I’ll figure that out when I see her.” A muscle in his jaw clenched. “Then if you and the smith will help, we can get the armor sized to me. I just hope we have long enough.”

  “All right. Go on and see your cousin. I’ll get this armor to a smith. Come find me when you’re done.”

  Alan clapped me on the back. “Thanks, Davik. I swear you’ll be rewarded, one way or another.” He hurried out the door.

  I found a smith just down the street and offered to trade him an afternoon’s labor in exchange for his help with the armor fitting. A few hours later, I looked up from sweeping. Evening sun sloped in through the open smithy door. Someone was approaching, but it didn’t sound like Alan or the smith. Too light for either of them.

  A trim girl stepped through the door. “You’re Alan’s friend?” she asked. She had light brown hair hanging in a pair of braids and wore a linen dress, well-cut and neatly stitched.

  “Yes,” I said. “Where’s Alan?”

  She glanced from me to where the armor lay on the anvil. “He really was planning to enter.” She shook her head. “Idiot.”

  I shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

  The girl looked me over. She wasn’t as young as I’d first thought. Probably nearly twenty. Her grey eyes were very pretty. “He asked me to find you,” she said. “He’s been injured.”

  “What? How?” I set aside my broom. “Where?”

  “It’s probably best if you just stay away,” the girl said. “You’ve done enough for him.”

  “Take me to him,” I said.

  #

  Alan stared up at me. “They jumped me,” he mumbled through swollen lips. “Three of them.”

  “And John was sitting in the king’s chambers the whole time,” the girl said. She looked disgusted. “He’ll deny knowing anything about it.”

  “My arm,” Alan moaned. “They broke my sword arm.”

  “And a few ribs from the sound of you,” I said. Both his eyes were black. There was a purpling bruise on his cheek, and every time he breathed he winced. All my training had done was get him a beating.

  “I failed.” He shook his head and groaned. “I failed. I’m sorry, Ana.”

  “Don’t be.” The girl laid her hand on his forehead. “You tried. Nobody else did that much.” She looked away from him, toward me. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “You’re the princess?” I said. She didn’t look like one. The stubborn set of her jaw reminded me of my mother.

  Alan crooked a finger at me. “Davik. You could take her away. Hide her.”

  “That won’t do any good.” Ana shook her head. “I can’t escape my fate by running from it. No. I made my pledge. Maybe John will make a better king than we expect.”

  Alan made a noise that started as a laugh and turned into a groan. “Do you really think there’s any chance of that?”

  “What made you think Garadon would be any better?” I asked her.

  Our eyes met briefly. She looked away. “I never met him but I told myself the son of a conqueror would know how to keep Father’s kingdom together. I had hoped . . . I was a fool.” Ana stood up. “I need to go. Father will miss me.” She hurried out of the room.

  I knew the look in her eyes. A quiet despair. I’d seen it on my friends’ faces, as they clung to their scraps of wreckage, as they lost strength and one by one slipped into the sea. She’d been clinging to hope for so long, she didn’t know how to give up on it. Even though the waves were crashing over her and her soaked clothing pulled her down and she could feel the sharks brushing against her legs.

  Alan stared at the ceiling. “Why did you bother teaching me, Davik? I’m pathetic. They took my sword away from me and beat me with it.”

  “We didn’t have enough time. You’ll be a great warrior someday.” You had to know when you were beaten. He needed to learn that or he’d just get hurt again.

  “I’m worthless. I wanted to do something great. It wasn’t just about Ana you know. John’s always been better than me.” Alan’s voice wavered. “I was so excited to squire for Prince Garadon. A chance for me to prove myself to someone who didn’t know my brot
her, didn’t judge me by him.”

  “Is John a good fighter?” I asked.

  “The best. I don’t see why he had his men attack me. He’d have beaten me tomorrow anyway.” Alan closed his eyes. “And I thought… well, I never met Prince Garadon. But I was his squire anyway. A squire is supposed to protect his master’s interests. Seemed like I shouldn’t let someone else steal his bride without even trying to stop it.”

  I stared down at Alan. The bruises made him look older. Less like a boy. He has a warrior’s heart, my bear said. So does the girl.

  Neither of them knew how to give up. The circling sharks smelled blood, but they still clung to the wreckage. I couldn’t just watch them go down.

  “Rest,” I said. “You need your strength.”

  “For what?”

  “For the tournament.” I went to the door. “You should be there. Even if you have to get someone to carry you.”

  #

  The thrice-damned runes took all night to remove. Every time I thought I had the last of them, I spotted another. I could have just scraped off all the gold leaf, but I wanted the armor to look preposterous. Because in the crowd’s eyes, flashy meant powerful. I finished around dawn and went to find something to eat and a bucket of water to wash in. It felt good to have worked up a real sweat.

  I should never have laughed at Alan; you really do feel like a fool trying to put armor on by yourself. I got the smith to help me. I took the sword that went with the armor. My own was at the bottom of the sea. Mounting up wasn’t bad. I wasn’t used to armor this awkward. Give me good chain mail any day. But Alan’s horse cooperated. Clearly she was trained for riding, not hauling a cart, and didn’t object to her new, blank livery. She answered my lightest touch.

  The sun was high in the sky by the time I got to the tournament ground. I’d heard the Theis went in for elaborate tournaments, but I’d never seen one of their amphitheaters before. The arena, just outside town, had stone walls twenty feet high. I could hear the thrum of the crowd from the street.

  Two armed men lounged near the back entrance. They straightened up as I dismounted. “Good, I didn’t think there’d be anyone to take my horse,” I said. “Glad to see you on the job.”