The Knightpunk Code

by Kory Shen

  She broke the kiss first. "Is that good enough of an answer?" she asked.

  I held her face in my hands for another moment, then pecked her on the lips once. "For now, it's safer at the Temple. I'll let you know when the time is right."

  * * *

  I spent the night sleeping in the barn, guarding the suit of armor. It was my ticket to knighthood, my lifelong dream, and I wasn't going to risk losing it, even with Mira's assurances that she could repel any thieves.

  The next morning, I woke up to someone kicking my feet.

  "Wake up sleepy head." It was Lars.

  "How was your lady friend?" Tavi asked.

  I buried my head in my arms and sent a lazy kick at the sound of the voices.

  "Get up! Get up!" Ollie tugged my arms free. "There's an execution."

  I sat up instantly. "What?"

  Tavi drew his hand across his throat. "Off with his head."

  Executions weren't exactly rare, not these days, but they weren't an everyday occurrence, either.

  "Take me there," I said, rising to my feet.

  The public execution near the city center wasn't hard to spot. A throng of people crowded around the spectacle, old and young, men and women. Everyone had come to watch. I even spotted a nursing mother holding a baby to her breast, along with some green-robed observers from the Temple. I frowned, remembering Genna's vows.

  Lars scampered up the side of a small house to get a better view. "Up here!" he yelled.

  The rest of us followed him.

  I squinted at the figure standing quietly next to a pair of Sentinels. "Who is that?" I asked the boys. "What's the word?" The man sentenced to death was middle-aged and didn't look particularly imposing or threatening. I couldn't imagine what kind of crime he had committed to warrant a death sentence. Stealing from the king's coffers? Poisoning a well?

  "He gave speeches," Tavi said.

  "Speeches?" I asked. "Are you kidding?"

  "Yeah," Lars said. "I heard him once. He was saying the Sentinels don't do their jobs. And that the king is rotten."

  "The king can kill you for giving speeches?" Ollie asked with an incredulous air.

  "Sure," I said. He was a rabble-rouser, then. Not that I disagreed with him. Knight Sentinels were a crummy bunch in general, more concerned about becoming famous or impressing the ladies than maintaining order in the kingdom. I wasn't looking to become any old Sentinel. I wanted to be a real Champion.

  I paused uncomfortably at the thought. Why did I want to become a Champion? For fame? For gold? I didn't mind either of those, but that wasn't it. I wanted to set things right, to be right. And being right meant being the best.

  "Look!" Ollie shouted. "Over there!"

  A group of men and women in identical brown cloaks was hurling vegetables at the Sentinels standing on either side of the prisoner.

  They shouted insults, which I couldn't quite make out over the crowd's roar. Something about the knights being trash.

  Tavi stood up and cupped his hands to his mouth. "Eat garbage, you motherfucking Sentinels!"

  I forcefully pulled Tavi down. "What the hell was that? You want to go to a dungeon?"

  Tavi grinned. "Listen. I'm not the only one."

  The crowd was rowdy. At first I had thought they were jeering the hecklers. But now I could hear other cries against the knights. The Sentinels looked around, confused.

  Lars shouted as well. "Fuck the king!"

  I cuffed him in the side of his head. "You want your head to roll?"

  I looked around nervously, but no one seemed to have noticed.

  Lars scowled at me. "You're only saying that because he's your daddy."

  I seized Lars by the neck. "Enough. There's a time for fooling around, and this isn't it. We're leaving."

  I didn't like the crowd's mood. Every bone in my body ached with a warning.

  I climbed back down, then gave the three boys a stern glare. They eventually climbed down as well.

  I turned my back on the crowd and started heading back to Vimm's place.

  "Come on!" I yelled at the boys.

  The boys followed reluctantly, peeping over their shoulders every few steps. We couldn't see anything now that we were on the ground, but it didn't matter. As we walked away, the crowd's cries grew louder and louder. Suddenly, it was silent. A moment later, loud cheers and screams erupted, and I knew that a man's severed head was rolling in the city square.

  Then, as the noise from the crowd died down momentarily, I heard the words, as did hundreds of others.

  A single clear voice sang out above the ruckus.

  "Death to the failing king! Death to the harlot queen! Death to the twisted son!"

  A hush fell over the crowd. Another voice shouted. "Death to the king!"

  I turned to grab Ollie, who was lagging behind, glancing at the pale faces of the other boys. While they might joke about, even they knew the swift response any hint of real treason would bring.

  "Run!" I yelled.

  Moments later, the roar of the crowd erupted once more, but there were no cheers, only screams.

  CHAPTER 8

  An ill mood swept the city over the next two days. The treasonous cries and ensuing bloodshed by the Knight Sentinels split the people in two.

  Most kept indoors, scurrying about quickly on the streets while avoiding others as much as possible.

  When Vimm heard news of the massacre, he grounded all of his operations, not willing to risk a confrontation with Sentinels looking to make fresh examples. The Sentinels at the execution had slain ten in the crowd and injured a score of others. Men, women, and even children. No one was safe.

  Others grew bolder. There were reports of more vegetable ambushes against the Sentinels and parchments with treasonous slogans pinned to the castle's doors at night. A dummy dressed with a false crown and cheap robe set on fire appeared one morning in the high-security Iron District, the home of armor forgers and enchanters. The message was clear. It was a direct attack on armor, on power, and on the king.

  "Damn troublemakers," Vimm muttered, pounding his fist on his desk. I was taking off for the Open Melee, which was proceeding as planned, despite the city's madness. I had come to check in with Vimm one last time.

  Vimm caught sight of me. "What's the point of all this?" Vimm complained. "Now thievery—that's a fine crime, a respectable crime. You steal. You make money. It's business-like. All this talk of treason?" Vimm pounded his desk again. "Idiotic. Nothing but trouble for us businessmen."

  I nodded. "I completely and totally agree."

  "I suppose you're taking off now?" Vimm asked. "The Melee's this afternoon, right?"

  "Yeah. I can't wait to try out the moves I've been practicing. On real knights, on equal footing." I wasn't too sure about the equal footing part. I had a sneaking suspicion that, for the first time in my life, I might have the advantage over many of my opponents. Mira was, well, a miracle. I had only begun to scratch the surface of the armor's true potential.

  "There's no swaying you now, I suppose. Not that you would listen to an old frog like me." Vimm leaned forward with a worried look. "Something's going on, Jakson. All this, it's only the beginning. Times like this is when you go underground until the storm passes."

  "I can't. You know I can't. I've been waiting, no, preparing my whole life for a chance. This is it, the armor."

  Vimm pulled himself to his feet with the help of a single crutch.

  "No need to get up," I said, moving to help him.

  A strong hand gripped my shoulder. "You be careful, son."

  "Boss."

  Several hours later, I stood in a large open field with dozens of other armored men. The hot sun hammered down on us, but remarkably, Mira kept me cool and comfortable in my own armor.

  Unlike the rest of the contestants, I had no weapons, only my fists. The others wielded a variety of arms, mostly poleaxes and maces, although a few carried swords. Some glimmered, weapons enhanced with magic, no doubt.
<
br />   Sentinels stood guard in a perimeter around the large field. A sizable crowd of onlookers had gathered, too. Even with the city's current mood, few wanted to miss the annual event. Stands erected on one side of the field slowly filled with nobles. I didn't spot Lexley or my father.

  We waited for the Melee to begin, eyeing each other, judging each other's strengths and weaknesses, picking which foe to avoid, which to attack first. We waited some more, armor creaking as men shifted from feet to feet. I spotted a smaller figure wrapped in a brown cloak. Strange, maybe he was hiding his heraldry or markings.

  I took three steps towards the cloaked figure when a trumpet call rang.

  The Open Melee had begun.

  * * *

  The field exploded into a flurry of metal limbs and weapons crashing into each other. I froze, half my attention on the surrounding ruckus, the other on the curious contestant. I watched the figure threw off the cloak, revealing a blonde-haired woman in a red and white outfit. It was her. The mage. I stared in shock, almost taking an axe to my head in my surprise.

  I turned to face my attacker, but the axe-wielding knight had already moved on to another opponent. His new opponent swung a large broadsword that gave off an eerie blue glow. I scanned the rest of his equipment. His armor didn't look special, except for the Power Gauntlets that let him swing the heavy sword with a fencer's delicate touch. Some noble's son, at the very least, I assumed.

  I watched the two men trade blows, but my mind was still on the strange woman. How the hell was a mage going to survive in the Open Melee? While it was considered unsportly to slay a lesser opponent, there were no hard rules in the Open Melee other than to win.

  "Jakson?" Mira asked. "Will we engage the targets? I assume the point of this exercise is to defeat all other opponents."

  Mira was right. This was a free-for-all. I wasn't here to babysit. "I'm going to take out the stronger sword knight while he's distracted."

  "Might I suggest a triple shot to the chest." Mira said. "An instant kill."

  I wouldn't shrink from killing in a fight, and death wasn't that uncommon in Melees. But I didn't like the idea of killing a man with my first move.

  I ran to approach the sword knight from behind. "We don't want to show off our strength yet. Plus, I want to test this armor's strength."

  "I assure you, your armored strength should exceed any human's."

  "Not when they have Power Gauntlets."

  "Power Gauntlets?"

  I didn't have time to reply. I charged the sword knight before he noticed me, seizing both arms and wrenching them behind his back to hold him in place. He clung to his sword with one hand but couldn't use it.

  The axe knight saw the opening and raced forward, his axe held high.

  The sword knight strained, trying to break my hold on him. I kept him in place, barely.

  "Impossible," Mira said. "His strength is beyond human performance limits."

  "I told you. It's the Power Gauntlets," I replied, grimacing from the exertion.

  The axe nearly struck the sword knight's head, but he jerked to the side, taking the blow on his shoulder instead. The axe left an ugly dent in his pauldron but didn't pierce his more vulnerable joints.

  The axe knight swung again. This time, I heaved forward with all my might, forcing the two knights into each other. They stumbled and fell on top of one another.

  The sword knight recovered faster than the axe knight, pushing himself up into a kneeling position. He had dropped his sword in the tumble, but the sword knight ignored his lost weapon and instead pounced upon the other knight, straddling him. The first knight proceeded to pummel the second knight's helmet with a flurry of hard fists. Metal hammered on metal as his Power Gauntlet beat the axe knight's helmet, crushing it to half its size.

  I winced. I had seen my fair share of fights, but this had been fast and brutal. Moments before, the axe knight's limbs had been flailing under the other's body. Now, his body was still. Thank Yora, the crushed helmet concealed the gruesome sight of his smashed face.

  "Jakson!" Mira whispered urgently. "Now!"

  Mira's warning jolted me into action. I raced forward, while the victorious knight continued beating the other's helmet. I didn't have a weapon, so I used my right hand instead, leaping to bring my closed fist down on the sword knight's helmet like a mace. His helmet crumpled under the force of my attack, but it wasn't a killing blow. At least I hoped it wasn't. I had held back part of my strength.

  The knight went limp and teetered over to the side.

  "Shit. Did I kill him?" I muttered.

  "Negative. He appears to be unconscious," Mira said.

  "What? You can tell?"

  "I have a limited suite of environmental sensors. The man you defeated still has a beating heart."

  Every time I used the armor, I learned something new. "Mira, did I tell you that you're awesome?"

  "No, but I am pleased to hear you say that." Something about her voice reminded me of a puppy basking under attention.

  I glanced at the fallen forms of the two knights. "Two down. A couple dozen more to go," I said.

  "To be precise, there are eight incapacitated enemies, and thirty-nine remaining targets," Mira said.

  I surveyed the field quickly, spotting several more fallen forms. "Oh, it's sexy when you talk like that."

  "I am also pleased to hear you say that."

  I chuckled. "I bet you are." What had happened to the mage? Was she dead?

  I turned around. What the hell?

  The mage wasn't dead. She was alive and kicking. Literally.

  The mage jumped and struck a knight's head with her foot. A fiery explosion at the point of contact knocked the knight to the ground, while the mage rebounded backwards. The fallen knight didn't move again. Four other knights brandished their weapons at the unarmored mage.

  Had she held off five knights this whole time? How? Even a group of ordinary knights should have been able to take on a mage. It only took one sword strike, one axe blow. That was the problem with mages. They could hit hard, but they couldn't take any hits.

  Another knight lunged with his poleaxe. The mage met the weapon's strike with her fist. A small explosion erupted where her fist met the poleaxe's head. I blinked.

  "Mira, did that mage just parry that poleaxe with her hand?" I asked.

  "I do not understand, either," Mira replied. "She appears to possess an undetectable incendiary device on her hands and feet."

  "No, it's magic. She's a mage." I watched more closely as she blocked several more attacks with a mixture of punches and kicks. "She's generating mini-fireballs, explosions really, with each strike."

  Blocking a sword swing with an arm was obviously a good way to lose it, but I stared as the mage met an incoming sword with the blade of her hand. There was another explosion at the point of contact. The mage didn't flinch as she knocked the sword away.

  "The force necessary to block that sword strike should have shattered the bones in her hand," Mira said.

  "Yeah, not to mention cut clean through it. There's something we're not seeing about that mage."

  I dashed across the field to join the other four knights.

  None of them moved to defend themselves from me. One of them waved his hand in my direction. "You meet her head on." He gestured towards the others. "You two, take her from the left. We'll take her from the right."

  "Put that bitch mage in her place," another grumbled.

  "Her place is on my cock," someone else said.

  "Do we kill her before or after she's on your cock?" the first knight asked with a laugh.

  I interrupted to call out to the mage, who watched us cautiously. "Hey, you never told me your name."

  The woman tilted her head at me. "What?"

  "It's me. Jakson. The charming rogue who saved you?" I made the motions of wrapping a giant cloth around me.

  The other knights looked at me. "You know her?" one of them asked.

  The woman frowned
. "It doesn't matter. I won't show any mercy." She raised a glowing red hand.

  Mira buzzed in my ear. "I'm detecting a surge of localized heat—"

  "No shit!" I dove to the side as a massive fireball swept over where I had been standing.

  "Get her! Now!" The other knights charged.

  "Ungrateful wench," I muttered.

  I had already made my decision. From my position on the ground, I tripped one knight with a kick, sending him crashing into a second knight.

  Two other knights charged the mage, both with maces. So far, I had only seen the mage use fire-based attacks. I assumed she was some kind of fire elementalist.

  Baking knights in their tin cans wasn't a bad idea. It was just too slow. Their metal suits of armor were begging for something else.

  "Lightning bolt."

  A bright streak of lightning shot out of my left arm, hitting the first of the charging knights before dancing to the second one. Both of them cried out in pain and tumbled to the ground.

  The mage shot me a glance, then raised her hand again.

  "Wait! Damn it!" I shouted. "I just saved you again. Stop attacking me!"

  The mage held her glowing red fist in the air. Then, she hurled another fireball at me. Mira said something, but I was too focused on the incoming blaze to hear her.

  The fireball went wide, flying past me to hit another knight who had been approaching me from behind. The ensuing explosion sent the knight crashing into the ground.

  "And I just saved you," the mage said.

  "I could have taken care of it," I said.

  "Same."

  We stared at each other, oblivious to the rest of the fighting around us.

  "Jakson. A group of knights is approaching from your left," Mira warned.

  "Yeah, yeah," I whispered. I spoke more loudly to the mage. "What's your name?"

  I pointed my left arm at the first of the approaching knights.

  "Can you dial down the damage? I don't want to kill them," I whispered to Mira.

  "Very well. Power set to ten percent," Mira said.

  "Triple shot."

  The impact of my first attack lifted the first knight off his feet, sending him flying backwards about three feet.