by Tracy Falbe
Valentino recognized that Thal wanted him to say the chances were good because they were, but he winced like he had to eat moldy bread. “Oh, Thal, mustering farmers and woodcutters is like getting puppies to walk in a straight line. They’re like trying to sleep with a bag of cats for a pillow.”
“But you can do it, yes?” Thal pressed.
“I can, but you hardly need me. I rather expect that your father could get them to march on Paris,” Valentino said.
“Don’t tempt him,” Thal laughed.
They returned to the doleful aftermath at the village. People were salvaging possessions from the burned homes and finding places to shelter among their neighbors.
Sarputeen beckoned his son from a stable where the pack had gathered with him.
“We’ve kindly been granted leave to stay in here tonight,” he said.
Thal looked inside and the pair of work horses snorted nervously. Thankfully the hay loft offered a place to rest away from stamping hooves. Pistol fretted at the bottom of a ladder that he could not scale. Altea waved to him from the upper level where she had already unpacked her bag. He patted his dog and climbed the ladder.
“These poor people,” she said when he arrived. “This is the third time this has happened to them since their harvest. They know to hide their stores, but every few weeks, they go to their stashes to resupply and then get struck again. They tried to fight this time, but they lack the means to resist them.”
Thal reclined onto some hay. “We should help them reclaim what’s theirs. I think these people will aid us in this portion of our quest,” he said.
“It would be good to put a stop to those thieving soldiers,” Altea agreed.
He drew her into the hay next to him. He liked how she relaxed into his arms.
Altea stroked his earlobe near the earring. “The gift of the fairies will give you a great advantage,” she said.
He had only tested it once, but did not feel eager to use the charm. Altea noted how the subject of the earring subdued him and said, “Does it take some toll when you use it?”
He shook his head. He had not felt any ill effects. He tried to explain, “The fairy magic is not the magic of my father or my mother. It’s from a different time. It wants to reveal more than I can bear to see. I feel I should only use it when most needed.”
Altea’s finger strayed against the earring. Nothing about its appearance suggested anything extraordinary.
“What did the fairies show you?” Thal asked.
She retracted her finger and looked away. She had wondered if he would ask her about it or if she would answer him. “I thought I was hunting a stag, but now I understand that it was leading me. I followed until we reached a clearing. The stars above were dim because of the bright moon, but then a green fire ball crossed the sky and broke into fragments.” She paused to remember its beauty. Then she shrugged and said, “The vision might not mean anything. It’s hardly as grandiose as getting a magic gift.”
“Mayhaps what the fairies showed you will take new meaning as time goes by,” he suggested.
“I do feel privileged to have had a vision,” she said and snuggled toward his lips. They spent some time kissing until Valentino called from below.
When Thal looked down from the loft, Valentino said, “I’ve gathered some of the men. They await our address.”
“Very Good,” Thal said and hurried down with Altea. He gathered his pack to stand with him when he spoke. His father gave him a look of encouragement.
Valentino introduced him. “Gentlemen, listen to the words of Lord Thal if you would reclaim the safety of your homes.”
“Lord Thal? Like the killer beast?” a man asked.
Although Thal took perverse pride in his notoriety, he had not expected the news to have penetrated to this remote spot.
“His name means strength, and that’s what you need,” Valentino said. “A man of strength to rid you of these akinci.” The Condottiere smacked a fist into a palm to remind them of their need for effective violence.
Sarputeen stirred on the periphery. “His name is mere coincidence,” he said, and his holy authority seemed to settle the matter.
Thal came forward and said, “Yes, my name is Thal. I am a man of arms, as are my associates, and we act as guards for Brother Miguel on his holy missions. Our quest takes us east against the one in the Highlands whose shadow has now fallen upon your homes.” He pointed to the blackened timbers that cut across the setting sun like charcoal ribs.
The villagers rustled with a collective intake of breath when he made this veiled reference to Tekax, who was not spoken of openly.
“And these akinci are in my way. With some help from you, we shall punish them soundly for what they have done to you,” Thal announced.
The escalating harassment and pillaging that the community had been experiencing had left them hopeless and battered, and they welcomed the champion who had suddenly appeared on their doorsteps. Their cheers were immediate.
When their applause subsided, Thal warned, “It will not be easy. You will be in danger, but I swear that me and mine will take the brunt of battle for you.” He pulled his pistols and raised them over his head. They had more than hunting bows and pitchforks now.
“In the coming days, we shall make our plans. Tonight, you must rest for the day has been unkind to you,” Thal said.
The men clapped and showered him with approving comments. Thal smiled and shook hands and tried to remember people’s names as they wholeheartedly welcomed this turn in their luck. He suspected that even if they believed him to be the Butcher of Prague that it would not lessen their enthusiasm to see him attack their tormentors.
******
The offensive against the fort began gently as Mileko approached the gate with only Lenki at his side. Her courage had always come easily to her, too easily really, but the fort intimidated her. She glanced up at Mileko riding beside her. His horse accepted her proximity as long as she stayed out of reach.
He met her eyes. They were all that could be seen of her face hidden by a mask. He had never wanted a companion on his adventures before, but he believed that she would complement his efforts.
“Don’t worry. They’ll let us in. Life is tedious for them out here. They welcome any distraction,” Mileko said.
“They’ll want to hurt me,” Lenki said.
“We’ll be safe together,” Mileko said.
“Safe?” she challenged.
“Would you have come if you thought that this plan would not work?” he said.
“I came because you asked,” she admitted. Thal had intended only to send Mileko, but Mileko had proposed that Lenki would increase his chance of success.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” Mileko promised, and he could tell that she appreciated his gallantry.
Closer to the fort now, they could see hobbled horses pawing at the snowy meadows to find grass.
“Look, they appear unconcerned about security,” Mileko observed.
“After the way they treated those people you’d think would worry,” Lenki grumbled and looked forward to dealing out punishment.
“Stay patient. Follow our plan. And don’t talk,” Mileko reminded her.
She nodded and touched her mask. Her disguise and muteness were essential to hiding her femininity. Lenki patted her weapons concealed in her clothes and kept walking forward.
When they reached the gate, two helmeted heads looked over the stockade. The turban-like wrappings on the helmets made their heads look large. Someone shouted a challenge.
Mileko raised a friendly hand. “Hello, my apprentice and I seek shelter for the evening. We’ll entertain with magic tricks in exchange for hospitality,” he said.
“This is a military outpost and no hostel!” a janissary replied indignantly.
“So you don’t want to see what tricks I can do?” Mileko asked.
Indistinct shouting of questions and answers took place behind the timber walls. Finally, a t
hird head appeared on the stockade.
“You!” the janissary officer cried.
“I’m back this way again and thought you’d like another show,” Mileko said.
Lenki marveled at the cheerful tone of his voice for it was foreign to his character, but the friendly voice seemed to change the energy from confrontation to welcome. Sweet words had never been her talent, and she envied him a little. Perhaps this was a skill that he could teach her.
“Who’s that with you?” the janissary officer asked. He squinted at the slender figure. A fleece poncho made the person look like a shaggy dog on skinny legs. A dark tunic and black leggings and boots created a neutral appearance, but the mask covering the head was unnerving.
“My apprentice,” Mileko said and gestured toward her with a showman’s flourish.
“Why the mask?” the officer said.
Mileko winced as if that subject should not be broached so indelicately. He cast an apologetic look toward Lenki before answering. “The mask is a mercy to us all. Terrible crimes have been committed upon the face of my associate. The scars are unsightly.”
“What happened to you?” the commander demanded of Lenki, clearly expecting the stranger to answer. She shook her head.
Mileko said, “His tongue is cut out.”
“What was his crime?”
“Nothing more than the misfortune of having an evil master. A brute and scoundrel disfigured this fellow. I’ve taken him as apprentice to learn tricks and become fit to join a circus. You’ll find that an apprentice has much improved my show.”
The commander stared at Mileko. He recalled wondrous tricks with a floating dagger. He wanted to see them again.
Although the officer understood discipline and security, winter was not the season of armies, and no Christians were marching on his tiny command. He was attracted to an alternative to the akinci captain’s tales of violence, which he considered much embellished.
When Mileko heard the bar on the gate scrape open, he flashed an excited look toward Lenki. As the gates swung open and she saw inside the little timber outpost, she forced back the fear trembling in her chest. She was the she-wolf now. If any man laid a hand on her, she could throw him off. She lifted her chin and followed Mileko’s horse inside.
The janissary officer was coming down the steps from the stockade to greet his guest. Mileko dismounted and bowed to the man.
“How did you get here? You said you were bound for Eger,” the officer asked.
“I’ve circled back through Buda after visiting my mother. That is where I acquired my apprentice. May I introduce Lenki,” Mileko said.
Lenki bowed.
“I look forward to what entertainments you can offer,” the officer said.
Mileko looked around. The fort was full of tents where the akinci camped. He spotted the two cannons still in their positions alongside the gates in front of windows that could be opened for their barrels.
“Come warm yourselves,” the officer said and led them inside the common room. Several akinci and janniseries lounged near the fireplace, tending to weapons and gear or playing games on the tables.
Mileko and Lenki advanced to warm their hands over the fire. The commander introduced the traveling magician and his apprentice. Those who remembered Mileko from his first visit nodded agreeably. The akinci captain got up from his seat and questioned the janissary commander quietly until he seemed satisfied.
Mileko and Lenki retreated to a corner and took out their rations to have a hasty supper. Lenki slipped bread carefully beneath her mask. Everyone openly stared at them. Someone tried to ask a question, but Mileko cut him off and said that he must quiet his mind for the performance.
Eventually, everyone went outside to perform their evening prayers. Lenki visibly relaxed, but Mileko knew that their privacy would not last long.
“We’ll do fine. Try to enjoy yourself,” Mileko encouraged.
She had been practicing with him for the past week as everyone planned the assault on the fort. She had liked working with him in the market square in Pressburg, but the stakes were so much higher here.
When the soldiers started filing back into the common room, Lenki helped Mileko prepare their materials. He took off his cloak and double checked the powders that he had stowed in the little pockets of his vest. Lenki stood back holding the two small swords that he would swallow.
Mileko addressed his audience and set them at ease with a series of tricks. Coins walked across his knuckles and popped in and out from behind the ears of the men in the front row. He cut strings only to have them be whole again. He twirled little daggers on the tips of his fingers.
After warming up the crowd, he beckoned Lenki who came forward with the swords. She extended one to him with a bow, and he turned and flourished for the crowd until he raised his head to slide it into his throat. Impressed murmurs circulated the room.
Lenki then came close to Mileko. He lowered himself to one knee while holding the metal in his throat. He lifted a hand as if to remove the sword but paused. Lenki waved her hand between his hand and the sword to prove to the audience that nothing connected them.
He then concentrated for what felt like a long time. In the candlelight, Lenki watched beads of sweat sprout on his smooth brow. Without looking at the others, she knew that they were growing impatient for something to happen. She disliked the cloying stink of their gathered bodies and looked forward to the strong odors of blood and smoke that would define the night.
Mileko extended the mysterious powers of his body toward the metal. The sword rose from his mouth and into his hand. He pulled it the rest of the way out.
A few men clapped tentatively, but others doubted what they saw. Mileko obliged them by doing it again with the same assistance from Lenki. He had to repeat it five times. Both the commander and the akinci captain came close to watch him do it under their noses.
At last, Mileko bowed to them and gestured for them to return to their seats. He then positioned Lenki in front of him and stepped back. She stared straight ahead through her mask and avoided eye contact with everyone.
Mileko startled to circle her and wave his hands over her. She knew that he was sprinkling her with combustible dust. He then lectured the audience about his mastery of fire and punctuated his statements with flashes of flame that shot over their heads. For his finale, he cast Lenki into flames. They rose up quick and bright. She raised her fiery arms and took a bow.
Everyone clapped, quite pleased with the spectacle, and then Lenki pitched forward. The flames on her diminished like someone had kicked apart the coals of a cooking fire.
Mileko stooped next to her and fanned away the smoke with his hands. “The fumes have overcome my brave apprentice. He needs some air.” He lifted Lenki and dragged her toward the door.
The akinci’s horses had been brought inside for the night, and they shifted nervously on their tethers when Lenki came outside. They snorted and stamped as Mileko brushed ash from Lenki’s clothing. He glanced around the interior of the stockade. The men who were supposed to be on watch had been standing outside the window to the common room, which was entirely as he hoped.
“Find a place to hide while I get my things,” he whispered.
“Where?” she whispered.
“Anywhere. I’ll find you,” he said and hurried back inside.
“You’ve been a wonderful audience, gentlemen,” he announced. He wove through the men on his way to retrieve his swords and cloak.
“Is there more?” the commander asked.
“Well….” Mileko was eager to be rid of their company, but he wanted them happily distracted. “I’ll do what I can without my apprentice.”
He performed a few more tricks that required men from the audience to participate. He made their coins disappear and then reappear in the pockets of others. He asked a man to hold a sword and then waved his hands over it until it wobbled. The man dropped it in surprise when he felt the invisible force move the object in his
hands.
At last, Mileko insisted that his weariness made any more magic impossible. He asked leave to bed down inside the stockade. He received more cheers and friendly slaps on the back as he politely saw himself out of the door.
Outside, he took a deep breath to cleanse tension from his body. The men on duty drifted back toward their posts, and Mileko overheard them discussing his performance. He was the best magician they had ever seen, and he regretted that they would soon die.
The first quarter moon had just risen over the edge of the stockade, which was his sign to act. He went to his horse and tightened the saddle’s cinch. From a saddle bag, he removed two jars of oil that the villagers had donated to the cause. He glanced among the shadows and noticed where Lenki crouched behind some barrels. He joined her and watched akinci exit the common room. Most went to their tents except for a trio who gathered around an outdoor fire.
Mileko told Lenki to hold the jars of oil while he discreetly gathered some hay. He acted as if he meant to make a bed of hay next to a building while Lenki stood over him. She then poured most of the oil over the hay and reserved the rest for two small torches that she had prepared. Mileko fetched a lantern and applied the flame to the straw. It caught quickly and illuminated their faces in the orange glow.
They lingered a moment as excitement tingled between them. He did not want to let the moment go. His hand lifted her mask over her brow. Her lips parted as if she might protest his touch, but she hesitated. The straw fire licked up the timber wall, and she reached out and touched his face. For the first time she saw vulnerability dart across his cool and condescending gaze.
“I’m ready,” Lenki said.
“So am I.”
They dropped their hands and walked away from their little act of arson with torches blazing in their hands. Casually they strolled among the tents and touched their torches to the oiled canvas that accepted the fire gleefully. The glow of the flaming tents filled the little fort. Screaming men rolled and stumbled, choking and coughing from their burning shelters.
The akinci around the fire and the janniseries on duty gaped in shock at the sudden conflagration. They shouted at Mileko and Lenki.
