Knaves

by Abbott, Alana Joli; Meadors, Melanie R. ;

  “Very, well,” I said as my gaze shifted back to Thoms. “Behold, the golden sword!”

  I cast my cloak aside from where it had hidden my legendary weapon. I grabbed the golden hilt and pulled it half out of its sheath to reveal a similarly-colored blade.

  “It’s true,” Mart said with an expression of dumbfounded awe. “It really is Barrett the Golden.”

  IT WAS WELL past midnight when I grew weary of the Bald Stallion and its terrible ale. I allowed my body to drag and slouch a bit as I settled up with Kine and then turned to leave. The place had cleared out except for a few lonely denizens who wallowed in some thought or another, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them the ale would solve nothing for them.

  The soldiers had gone two hours before.

  I staggered three or four steps toward the door when the little girl darted from beneath a table and stood in front of me. Her jade green eyes studied me with open curiosity, and I couldn’t help but admire her boldness.

  I stood straighter and then tossed her a coin with a wink. She caught it with practiced ease, turned it over in her hand, and darted off.

  I chuckled as I fake-stumbled to the door and placed a hand on either side of the frame to steady myself. I peered into the cobbled streets of Lindy and licked my dry lips.

  Houses and businesses were crammed together in a strange array of wood and brick, leaving plenty of nooks and crannies for robbers to hide. Gas lanterns lit the streets, but most of those had soot-covered shutters that hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.

  I stepped carefully into the gloom and turned down Axenfeld Way whilst maintaining an air of drunkenness. I stumbled past dark alcoves and stoops searching for any sign of movement, and I strained my ears to hear any odd sound.

  My stomach churned with anticipation as I waited for the attack to come, but the moments ticked on without the slightest stir. The street curved upward into a nicer part of town called the Garden District that boasted polished cobblestones and glass storefronts.

  That’s when they struck.

  A sword cut at me from an alley on the left. I leaped into the center of the street to avoid having my head cleaved from my neck, then I threw back my cloak and whipped my sword from its sheath.

  Thoms rushed from the darkness and swept at me with his sword again. I parried, then nicked his hand with the tip of my blade. The Gray Watchman cursed and danced away.

  Heavy footfalls stormed at me from behind. I knew it had to be Mart. I spun to my left in a full circle and swatted the big man’s ass with the flat of my blade as he charged by. Mart slammed into Thoms in a painful collision, and both soldiers went down in a heap.

  “That was a very poor hammer and anvil,” I quipped as my eyes darted around to find Jansford.

  I heard a scritch of boots on the roof above me, and I spun away as Jansford landed where I had just been standing. He held a blackjack in his hand, and he would have clobbered me in the back of the head had I been slower.

  “Gotcha,” I said as I lunged forward with my sword and tagged him hard on the hip with the flat of my blade.

  The wiry fellow drew his sword and skipped forward on quick feet. The tip of his blade flew at me like a steel hummingbird, and it was all I could do to parry him.

  I sensed someone rushing me from the left, so I stepped back just as Mart lunged by in another failed attempt to tackle me. I brought my sword around and down to slap his other ass cheek. The big man dropped to his knees with a howl.

  I jerked my sword to counter Thoms’s thrusting blade, then I brought my weapon around to deflect a reverse swing from Jansford meant to cut me in two. Thoms and Mart seemed to be playing nice, but Jansford wanted to destroy me.

  A spike of anger gave surge to the blood rushing through my veins, and I leaped into action. I deflected another of Jansford’s cuts, then I nicked his wrist with a flick of my sword, causing him to drop his weapon with a yell.

  Mart loomed up on my right, and I crouched quickly to avoid being hit by his big, meaty fist. I countered with a kick to his ribs that drove the wind from his lungs but stopped short of cracking his bones.

  A thrown cobblestone glanced off my left shoulder, and I grunted as pain shot down my arm. I reeled to see Thoms charging at me with steely eyes, but I leaped into the bed of a parked carriage and delivered a kick to his chest that sent him careening onto his back.

  I looked around to see that Jansford still had some fight left in him. The wiry soldier approached me with a plain steel dagger in his hand. He flipped it up and caught it by the blade before flashing me a grin.

  “Go ahead,” I said, grinning back. “Throw it—”

  “Enough,” Thoms growled as he got up from the street and bent over to catch his breath. When Jansford did not stop right away, he added a bit of warning to his tone. “I said, enough, Jansford!”

  Jansford froze in place with the dagger held high, then he shrugged and spun the blade back into the sheath at his waist.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” I asked with an offended tone. “Do Gray Watchmen always attack well-known heroes?”

  “I’m sorry,” Thoms said with a wave of his hand. “I just had to be sure you’re really Barrett the Golden.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we might have a job for you,” Thoms said.

  “I am Barrett the Golden,” I said firmly. “But what kind of job could the Gray Watchmen offer me?”

  “You said you would defend the Queen’s honor with your life.” Thoms stood up and put his hands on his hips.

  “I did—” I started to say, but then my voice caught in my throat. My eyes caught the gleam of something on the ground where I had been parrying Jansford so enthusiastically.

  Several specks of gold plate lay in the dim glow of a nearby gas light.

  I glanced down at my golden sword and saw several chips in the hilt. My gut grew heavy, and my eyes lifted to the soldiers, but it did not appear that anyone else had noticed. I sheathed my sword and stepped down from the back of the carriage with my boot covering the golden flakes.

  “I did say that,” I repeated. “But I only take orders from King Edmund directly.”

  “Please follow us back to our guardhouse,” Thoms said as he found his own sword and returned it to its sheath. “You can talk to our captain. He’ll tell you all about it. Please.”

  “It seems you are honorable men,” I gave them an agreeable nod, “if a little over enthusiastic in your duties. I would hear what your captain has to say. Lead on, good Watchmen.”

  Thoms nodded, then started up the hill with Mart in tow. Jansford gave me a surly look before falling in behind his comrades. I scraped my boot across the golden flakes so that they would be less noticeable in the light, then I followed the soldiers up the curved lane into the Garden District.

  I’d never actually been in the Garden District before, even though it was a place Barrett the Golden would likely frequent. It was well past midnight, but many establishments stayed open late to serve those who reveled at night. My eyes took in tavern signs drawn up in fanciful scripts like pieces of artwork, and the smells of cooked meats and spiced meads made my mouth water. The patrons inside brimmed with affluent energy, and my boots tread upon pristine cobblestones that were recently scrubbed. I would have much rather spent my evening here than at the Bald Stallion.

  Thoms led us down some alleys where we passed several other soldiers changing shifts or running errands, and their eyes lingered on me as they passed. My stomach turned beneath their scrutiny, but I grinned back as if it was quite natural for me to be in the company of soldiers.

  We finally came to a large guard tower on the eastern wall, and Thoms gave a knock on the thick, wooden door. The steel portal opened, and a grizzled soldier looked out.

  “Thoms, what are you doing here?” the guard asked. “You’re not due for a shift until tomorrow.”

  “We need to speak to the Captain,” Thoms said.

  “What for?”

 
“We’ve got Barrett the Golden here,” Thoms said in a hushed tone. “Was thinking maybe the Captain might need him for the, uh… you know… the thing?”

  “Oh, right,” the guard said. “The thing. You sure the Captain would approve of an outsider knowing about the thing?”

  “What if the Captain found out we had the greatest swordsman in all the land in our company but failed to introduce them?” Thoms growled.

  I wasn’t sure if I was the greatest sword fighter in all the land. Still, I was at least in the top five, and I appreciated Thoms’s support.

  “Maybe you’re right about that.” The guard stared at me as I flipped my golden hair. “All right. Let’s see what the Captain has to say about him.”

  Bolts slid aside, and the door opened. I followed my escorts inside without hesitation, but my gut sank when twelve pairs of eyes turned in my direction. The soldiers of the Gray Watch sat around three rows of tables playing cards or eating. One soldier stared at me as soup dripped from his beard.

  I desperately hoped that none of these men had ever seen Barrett the Golden before. I could be in trouble if they had. But common soldiers seldom mixed with heroes, so I did not think it was likely. In any case, I could not show any fear despite that my skin itched with warning.

  “Greetings, mates,” I called out with a big smile. “And hail to the King and Queen.”

  “Hail to the King and Queen,” they muttered and then went back to what they were doing.

  I sighed softly in relief.

  Thoms told Mart and Jansford to stay put, then he motioned for me to follow him up a set of stone stairs that wove around the inside of the tower.

  “Enthusiastic lot,” I quipped, referring to the soldiers.

  “It’s been hell ever since the Queen came to town,” he said. “She brought her lot back from the front all wounded and underfed with the barbarians in hot pursuit. Us Watchmen are doing double shifts on the walls and taking extra night patrols. We’re exhausted, and the pay isn’t that great.”

  “Luckily, the walls you’re guarding are quite impenetrable,” I said.

  “Yeah, but there’s another problem,” Thoms said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Rumor has it the Ferret’s got two hundred mercenaries at his disposal, and he covets the Queen’s jewel above all else,” Thoms said.

  “The Ferret is a rat-faced weasel,” I said with a dark look.

  “This is technically true,” Thoms agreed. “Since ferrets and weasels are the same thing.”

  “Are they?” I asked with a tilt of my head. “And more to the point, why are the Ferret and his two hundred men any more dangerous than the barbarians?”

  “I’ll let the Captain tell you,” Thoms said.

  We came to a door at the top of the stairs, and Thoms knocked. Another guard answered much the same way the first one had. Thoms told me to wait on the stairs while he went inside to speak with the Captain.

  I looked down at the men below me as I waited. There was a lot of steel between myself and the exit, but it was too late to turn back now. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my speeding pulse. Then the door swung open, and Thoms motioned me inside.

  “Come on,” he said, “the Captain will see you.”

  “Ah, good.” I nodded and then stepped across the threshold.

  The Captain’s quarters took nearly the entire diameter of the tower, although it was mostly full of extra armor and weapons. A few oil lamps cast a warm light in the room, and a map of the surrounding lands was spiked to the table with daggers.

  The Captain was a stocky man with wide shoulders and a head shaved down to the skin. His eyes held an expression of curiosity and doubt as he came to stand in front of me with his hands on his hips.

  “So you’re Barrett the Golden?” he asked. “You don’t look like much.”

  “That’s what I told him,” Thoms said. “But he beat me, Mart, and Jansford pretty easily. And we even had the jump on him.”

  They had not actually gotten the jump on me, but I played along.

  “I am Barrett the Golden,” I tossed my yellow hair and bowed to the Captain. “And your soldiers were right to test my mettle. With men like the Ferret around, we can never be too sure who to trust.”

  “I’m sorry if they caused you any trouble,” the Captain said. “I know you are a friend of the King.”

  “And the Queen,” Thoms said. “Barrett declared his loyalty and devotion to Queen Gruna, so I thought he might be good to have along for the, um, thing.”

  “Oh, yes.” The Captain glanced at Thoms.

  “What is this thing I keep hearing about?” I asked.

  The Captain seemed reluctant to go on about it, but something in my curious expression must have convinced him I was worth trusting.

  “We’re moving the Queen and her jewel to the capital city of Vijale,” he said, “under heavy guard.”

  “I see.” I raised an eyebrow. “And you’re afraid the Ferret will get to her jewel?”

  “Aye,” the Captain said.

  “I figured it would be good to have Sir Barrett along to help protect us from the Ferret and his mercenaries,” Thoms said to the Captain. “Like I said, he beat all three of us without breaking a sweat. And I figured you’d want someone along who had experience with a scoundrel like the Ferret.”

  “Yes, well, we could always use another sword,” the Captain said with more enthusiasm. “What say you, Barrett? Would you be willing to assist us in escorting Queen Gruna to the safety of Vijale? There would be a hundred silver in it for you.”

  “I’m on my way to Vijale anyway,” I said, “so it would be a favor to the Queen and our own blessed King Edmund. No payment necessary.”

  “That is honorable of you, sir,” the Captain said. “We leave on the morrow. Can you be ready?”

  “I’ll be here at the break of dawn,” I said as I nodded my golden head.

  THE ROAD TO Vijale was a comfortable ride. As the greatest fighter in all the land, they honored me with a seat atop Queen Gruna’s carriage. A line of fifty soldiers on horseback stretched out before me, and there were another fifty behind. These were some of Slithora’s best fighters, all heavily armored and watchful. The Captain rode at the front of the line while Thoms, Jansford, and Mart mixed in with the rest of the soldiers.

  We passed hamlets and fields full of grazing cattle. I had very little contact with Queen Gruna except when she disembarked to stretch her legs or go piss in the woods. She was not an ugly woman, but Mart’s declaration that she was a beauty was a stretch.

  And she proved herself to be shrewd, crass, and intolerable at every stop. Once she slapped a cup of water out of a servant’s hand and declared the woman “slacking.” Another time she made a guard get on his hands and knees so she could sit on his back with a glass of wine in her hand. And the last disgusting straw was when Queen Gruna openly scolded the Captain as a nitwit for not stopping to hunt a succulent wild boar for her supper.

  The fact that she would not even acknowledge the presence of the greatest sword fighter in the land did not deter me from keeping a watchful eye on her carriage and the priceless jewel inside.

  Rumors of the Ferret and his men spread like a plague through the ranks, and the Gray Watchmen grew nervous as we entered the deepest part of the forest, some fifty miles outside of Vijale. Trees pressed in around us, and strange sounds made dark music in our ears. The tension grew to an unbearable level, and even I began to sweat with the thought of some invisible foe watching us from the woods.

  Still, I kept up my banter with the men by telling jokes and bolstering their spirits, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when we exited the forest a half day later. The gleaming walls of King Edmund’s capital city of Vijale loomed in the distance like a beacon of hope.

  The Queen seemed especially confident now that she was so close to the fortified city. She had avoided capture by the barbarians, survived the dark forest, and now looked forward to a plush life back
home with her King Edmund.

  We stopped in the late afternoon not ten miles from Vijale at the Queen’s command. She climbed from her carriage with a smug grin and declared that she would take a short walk to relieve the stress in her legs so that she would look fresh for her husband. Then off she strolled off with a dozen heavily armed soldiers along a deer trail.

  It was then that I became personally acquainted with the Queen’s jewel.

  The theft itself took only a moment or two. I climbed down from the carriage and pretended to check beneath it for any road damage. Then I leaned inside the open door as if tidying the Queen’s comforts. No one questioned Barrett the Golden’s motives. The Captain trusted me, the Queen trusted me, and I was well-liked among the men, even though we’d only been travelling the better part of a day.

  I found the Queen’s jewel inside a locked box on the floor. There were no magical wards or traps protecting it. I only had to pick the lock, exchange the jewel with a rock, and then slip the priceless artifact into a pouch at my waist.

  I backed out of the carriage, grabbed the carriage door, and worked it back and forth as if testing the hinges. Soldiers went about their business all around me, but no one suspected a thing.

  “You there,” the Queen called, just as I was climbing back atop the carriage.

  My heart stuck in my throat as I turned to see her coming out of the woods and pointing right at me. I expected the next words out of her mouth to be, “kill that man,” but she only smiled, reached into her purse, and tossed me a coin.

  I caught the flying coin and pressed it between my fingers. It was a copper piece with a hole in the middle.

  “The Queen thanks you for your service,” said one of her bodyguards as his mistress climbed into the carriage.

  “Thank you, my Queen,” I gave her a courteous nod and tucked the coin into an inner pocket.

  We continued on the last leg of our journey as the white walls of Vijale grew massive and gleaming before us. I could have made my escape some time ago, but I could not resist sitting right above the Queen with her prized possession resting snugly against my hip. It was my nature to test fate.