Knight's Justice

by P. J. Cherubino

  “Tribute flows into the fortress and out to other Protectorates in the form of treaty payments, road maintenance fees, and other sundries. Tribute also pays contractual obligations between the Protector and his lieutenants.”

  “Her lieutenants,” Astrid corrected.

  “That’s right,” Brol said. “Basically, we’re broke. We can’t pay the lieutenants for their contracts, even though we lost more than half.”

  “Well, that’s the problem right there,” Astrid declared impatiently. “The system is stupid. It relies on paying officers for what they should do as their duty.”

  “But that’s how it works.” Brol shrugged, turning his palms toward the ceiling. “If the lieutenants don’t have coin coming in, no coin goes out to feed their estates, pay their blacksmiths, and so on and so on…”

  That was when Brol noticed Jiri Petran for the first time. He suddenly looked apprehensive.

  “Don’t worry about him.” Astrid waved her hand dismissively. “We can trust him.”

  “Well,” Jiri replied, “that happens to be true, but at the same time, maybe it’s best if I’m not privy to such information.”

  “That’s how I know I can trust you,” Astrid said. “Do I have your word you won’t use this information against us?”

  “On the contrary,” Jiri replied. “I will use this information to help us both. I can offer the Protectorate a generous loan.”

  Brol’s face reddened. “That’s not help! You want to chain us down with debt!”

  Jiri held up both hands and smiled. “I understand your hesitation, but I’ll let you set the terms. Full disclosure—I do want to bind our protectorates together. My offer is designed to create obligation between our two states.”

  “How does our being in debt to you in any way make you obliged to us?” Brol demanded.

  “Because the agreement would come with a pledge of mutual aid, which I’ve already given before witnesses to Astrid,” Jiri replied.

  “You pledged Blood and Fire?” Brol asked, softening.

  “Indeed so,” Jiri replied.

  “Blood, fire, and money make that all meaningful to me.” Brol smiled.

  “Of course,” Jiri said, returning the expression. “You are the treasurer. You don’t have to repay the loan entirely in coin,” Jiri continued. “If you agree to plow the roads into Petran on the eastern border, we can begin trading well before spring. That will get us both more income from taxes and fees.”

  Brol’s eyes lit up. He seemed to be counting in his head. “You sure know how to make a deal,” he exclaimed.

  “I’m glad this is working out,” Astrid said as Jiri finally sat down with her at the table. “Because I find politics, diplomacy, and finance even more exhausting than battle.”

  They worked out the details while the clerks drew up the contract. It was agreed that Jiri would go back to Petran to present the papers to his father. He promised to begin trade shipments immediately.

  “I hope I can get back here soon,” he said as they parted. “There will be a lot of merchants who want to get in on this deal.”

  “We welcome all the trade we can get,” Brol replied. His eyes practically swirled as he reconciled a ledger in his head.

  Keep 49: the Aftermath

  Liesel stood at the window and shook her head as she watched the Civil Guard put out the fires in the compound. The bandits had torched two hay bales after panicking the horses and turning them loose.

  Then they had disappeared. The guards kept looking for them long after they had gone. When the guard finally did take off to reinforce the estate, the bandits attacked them, stole one wagon, and disabled another.

  “These woods people are masters of chaos,” Liesel remarked as Yarik worked on his machines. “They sow confusion and lay traps. The Movers don’t seem to know how to deal with them.”

  Liesel turned away, still shaking her head. She stepped over to where her father worked.

  She’d had several long and sturdy tables brought into their suite. The place looked more like a workshop than a living space now, which was fine as far as she was concerned.

  She was happier when there were machines around, especially when those machines turned out the tools she used to carve out power for herself. That was the purpose of her life; that was what gave her joy.

  “Lucky for us they are good at chaos,” Yarik replied as he filed the burrs off a freshly-cut gear. “The more chaos they create, the higher our profits will be.”

  “You don’t think we should have helped them? One or two shots with my rifle…”

  “They specifically told us they would handle it. Once again, their foolish pride will be our profit. They couldn’t bear to have their guests fight for them. Fine. That will make our services much more valuable. We just need to do it in a way that lets them keep their pride. Again, that is very good for us. Pride is an expensive bauble. We have no need of it.”

  Liesel smiled and surveyed the tables, which were becoming crowded with parts. Yarik had put together the compact machines brought all the way from Arcadia and they formed a little assembly line that churned out the parts necessary to improve the crude machines presently at the keep.

  Liesel had helped the old man make drawings of the metal lathes and other devices. They spent days doing nothing but poring over blueprints. They slept as little as possible and ate even less.

  The work paid off. With some luck and hard labor, they would have their first protectorate rifle within a week.

  “It’s just as well I didn’t fight,” Liesel decided. “I’ve been putting a lot of magical energy into these amphoralds.”

  “Yes,” Yarik replied. “Our next challenge will be finding more magic users to drain in order to charge these gems.”

  “I think we can draw enough from Wilfred and Hagan’s Movers to charge the first batch.”

  “I think so as well,” Yarik answered.

  Liesel moved back over to the table. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at the growing collection of high-quality machine parts.

  “I understand what everything is,” she stated, “but why are you making so many gears? These seem really large. Also, what is this arrangement?” She pointed to a cylindrical object about as long as her elbow and bigger around than her thigh.

  A four-inch-long slotted shaft protruded from the end of the cylinder. Then, she noticed a set of gears and pulleys and she suddenly realized they were meant to fit on the cylindrical device.

  “Wait a minute,” Liesel gasped. “This looks like some kind of motor.”

  “That is exactly what it is,” Yarik said. “But keep going. Work it out in your head just like I taught you.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth across the parts as she assembled the machine in her mind. “It’s not like the devices that drive the motorized carts back in Arcadia. This one is self-contained.” She gasped again. “You’re going to motorize the battle wagon!”

  Yarik clapped his hands. “My clever, deadly daughter,” the proud father exclaimed. “I’m giving our new friends a gift. But after you and I fit it to the wagon and build the control mechanisms, it will be your toy.”

  One of the machines stopped whirring and a bell sounded. Another gear dropped onto the table.

  “That’s it,” Yarik announced. “That was the last piece necessary to get the machine shop running here.”

  Liesel threw her head back and laughed. She shuffled through their design papers.

  Yarik cocked his head and grew concerned. “What’s the matter? What are you looking for?”

  “You designed and built the motor adapter for the battlewagon in your head?” Liesel exclaimed.

  “Well,” Yarik remarked, folding his arms across his chest, “the other work was so boring. I had to do something to entertain myself.”

  “But you didn’t let me have any fun,” Liesel pouted.

  “You were busy over at the estate playing host to those rebellious guards. I thought that would
amuse you while I prepared this surprise.”

  She gave Yarik a huge hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you, Daddy,” she squealed. “This will be so much fun!”

  They called in some servants to pack everything up, then headed to the warehouse that was quickly becoming their machine shop. The rest of the day was spent refitting all the equipment and setting up new machines. They made fast and thorough work of it using forced labor from the village.

  With the correct application of force, Liesel found commoners to be the same everywhere. They worked like the beasts of the field.

  They planned to pull the lever that would turn everything on the next morning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Magic in the Caves

  Vinnie sat munching on a sandwich made from barley-flour bread that was stuffed with pickled vegetables and roast rabbit. It was his third of the day. He found training young magic users to be hungry work.

  The pile of rocks he reclined against was still warm from the magical energy that had created it. In front of him, three young woods people stood in various states of exhaustion as they tried to catch their breath.

  “OK,” Elise declared, straightening up to wipe a wet white curl from her pale forehead. “We pulled out chunks of stone.”

  The others—two boys, one named Cole, the other Jakub—continued to pant and sweat.

  “And did you feel the iron in the rock?” Vinnie inquired through a full mouth.

  “What the hell is iron supposed to feel like?” Jakub asked. He wobbled a little on his long skinny legs.

  Vinnie tossed him a string of dried apple rings. Jakub swatted the apples with his short, fingerless right arm and caught them with his left hand. He tucked the string under the short arm and removed a few slices, then handed them out to his fellow students.

  When Elise moved closer to see what Jakub was handing out, she stumbled over some loose rocks and nearly fell. Jakub pressed the food into her hand and she took it with mounting frustration.

  Vinnie swallowed his mouthful and continued. As he spoke, he gestured with his sandwich as if it were a pointer. “Feel the minerals with all your senses. This is the essence of earth magic. I taught you how to connect with the rock, and Tarkon showed you how to influence it with the energy of the Forge.”

  “But we still can’t pull individual minerals from the stones,” Elise said. “We’ve been at this for hours.”

  Cole remained silent as he tore off a piece of chewy apple with his teeth. None of the youngsters looked happy.

  “You must use all your senses to—“

  “That’s easy for you to say!” Elise snapped. “You have all your damn senses! My eyes don’t work like yours do. I can barely see past my damn nose! That’s why I live in the damn caves!”

  Cole and Jakub looked shocked, then a bit sad. Jakub put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on now, Elise,” he soothed. “I know you don’t mean that. You’re just frustrated.”

  “Yeah,” Cole added. “I’ve never heard you talk about your eyesight like that before. You never let it stop you from doing anything. Why start now?”

  “I’m a weaver,” Elise argued. “That’s what I’m good at.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What the hell do I want with magic? I should use my best skills to serve our tribes. This is a waste of time.”

  “Could it be,” Vinnie asked, “that this is the first time you have met a challenge that you couldn’t overcome easily?”

  Elise clenched her jaw and color rose in her ivory skin. “Woods people don’t have anything easy,” she growled. It was obvious she was biting back a far angrier response.

  “Lunch-lunch!” a voice called down the cavern tunnel. “Hello! Hello!”

  “We need a break,” Cole said.

  “We’re down here,” Elise shouted, using some of her anger to produce volume.

  Vinnie was happy to see it was Yulia with a straw basket in each hand. Her stubby legs propelled her down the tunnel in a raucous concert of bouncing motions. The baskets swung by her sides in counterpoint as they hit her shins and thighs.

  “You sound angry,” Yulia declared matter-of-factly. “Why are you angry?” She set the baskets by her feet and put a chubby fist on her hip.

  “I’m not angry at you,” Elise said defensively.

  “Ha,” Yulia replied. She stuck her thick tongue out at Elise for a moment and made a pretend-angry face. “You better not be.” She held up a childlike fist. “Nobody gets angry at Yulia and gets away with it!”

  Having scored a laugh, Yulia demanded an answer. “Why mad?”

  “We’re trying to get the iron out of these rocks,” Cole replied. “And all we can do is make the damn walls fall apart.”

  Yulia gasped. “Not nice,” she exclaimed. “Rock is our home. You need to ask the rock nice, not angry.” She picked up a hunk of rock and held it to her chest as if it were a cute and fuzzy animal.

  Cole suppressed a snicker.

  “You don’t understand,” Elise said. “That’s not how it works.”

  “I know how it works,” Yulia protested. “I see the Forge man do his trick.”

  Suddenly Yulia’s tiny brown eyes turned black, then glowed orange. She held up the rock in one hand and a hissing sound filled the cavern, then a black cloud of pure iron particles formed around her hand. The rock seemed to melt as the other minerals that composed it collapsed inward.

  Even Vinnie had no words. They simply watched in slack-jawed amazement as Yulia let the iron particles crawl up her arm like a sleeve. She giggled and played with shapes, giving herself a beard, then horns.

  Finally she formed a perfect sphere of pure solid iron and dropped it onto the gravel.

  “I’m tired now. That made me hungry,” Yulia announced. She dug into the basket.

  Ever polite, she handed out sandwiches before pulling one out for herself. “I know you want to eat,” she said, handing Vinnie a large bundle.

  They took the food, but nobody ate but Yulia. They were all too stunned.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” Yulia demanded, then took a big bite to hide a frown.

  “Yulia,” Elise asked tentatively, “how did you do that?”

  Yulia swallowed, then cocked her head. It was clear she did not understand the question. “I just did it,” she answered. “There’s no ‘how’ to it.”

  Jakub tried another way. “What were you thinking when you did that trick?”

  Yulia took another two or three bites while she thought about the answer. “You said iron,” she finally responded. “Iron tastes like biting my tongue. Smells like the red-stripe rocks when they get rained on. Feels tingly like before thunder. I asked the rock to show me that stuff.”

  “Can you show us how to do that?” Cole asked.

  Yulia stopped in mid-chew and her eyes went wide.

  “What?” Jakub asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Yulia finally swallowed. “You never ask me to show you stuff. You’re always showing me how to do things. Now I get to teach you!” She clapped her hands and her sandwich exploded. “Oops!” She laughed and frowned at the same time.

  Vinnie sat back down on his pile of rubble. “I owe you an apology, Yulia,” he confessed.

  “Really?” Yulia replied. “What did you do?”

  “I underestimated you, but I will never do so again.”

  Yulia laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know why you say that, but it sounds silly.”

  Vinnie removed three spheres from his pocket. One was clear, one was dull silver in color, and the other was shiny gray.

  Vinnie leaned forward on his throne of rubble and held out the spheres with his hands together like a tray. “The clear one is pure quartz. It is a compound, but the other two are pure elements.”

  “What’s an element?” Yulia asked, stepping over to look at the spheres.

  “Element just means it’s one thing. It’s not made of anything else but itself. You can take it out of a rock, but that’s it.
You can’t take anything else out of an element.”

  Yulia’s brow furrowed. “I don’t get it.”

  “Yes, you do,” Vinnie smiled. “Just not with words. You understand it with who you are. You’re a doer, not a talker.”

  “You are so silly,” Yulia declared, pushing out her fat tongue.

  “Forget words,” Vinnie urged. “Look at the iron sphere.” Yulia knew which was iron without needing to be told and she focused on the gray object. “Now try to do with it what you did with the rock.”

  Yulia set her jaw and squinted. The sphere vibrated. “Oh! I get it!” she squealed. The iron ball turned briefly into a cloud, then became solid again. “I can’t make it different things.”

  Vinnie was about to speak when the quartz sphere vibrated. With a sound like a spitting cat, the sphere changed from perfectly clear and round into a blue-gray lump.

  Yulia jumped back. “I broke it!” She put both hands over her mouth.

  “No, you didn’t,” Vinnie replied. “You found the element silicon without anybody telling you.”

  “What was that sound, though?” Elise asked.

  “That was pure oxygen,” Vinnie replied. “Quartz is made of two things: silicon and oxygen.”

  “I didn’t do something bad?” Yulia asked. “I break things sometimes. I’m clumsy.”

  “Who the fuck called you clumsy?” Cole exclaimed, surging forward. “I’ll smack them in the—”

  “Nobody,” Yulia interrupted. “Don’t be mad. I heard Gamma Gerty say it once to Grandpa Curtis. She didn’t say it to me. Don’t hit anyone!”

  Cole cleared his throat. “It’s not nice to call people that, so don't say that about yourself.”

  “Hothead.” Jakub sighed and gently patted Cole on the back. “Calm down.”

  “OK, Yulia,” Vinnie said, standing up. “Can you do a few more tricks for us? Maybe we can learn to do things like you do.”

  That made Yulia extremely happy. She began by handing everyone a rock. “Lick that one,” she ordered Elise.

  “What? I’m not licking a damn rock!” Elise protested.

  “Do you want to do tricks or not?” Yulia asked, stamping her foot.