by Matt Wilk
“That’s quite alright boy-o.”
“Exactly what did I do wrong? Huh, besides having spots? What else was my fault?”
“That’s enough out of you.”
“Please, you’ll only make them right. Come, allow me to get a closer look at these ligature marks in the light.”
I did not have the energy to see red. Somehow, without any sun light, Major Bloodaxe did so instead. As I was pushing off of my back shell to stand up, one of the guards spun around and pointed his spear my way.
“I said enough!”
The Bloodaxe emanated a red shadow that only I could see. At the sight of the spear, his eyes, his hilts, and his hands bled out with the aura of untethered rage. No town guard was worth the tax to be issued implants and they must not have known that the hilts were capable of allowing a man the size of golem to leap clear into the cart. He scared them half to death and then roared them into submission, something I deeply needed to see. Bratley led me into a side room where the guards would normally be seated in such weather. He had his own station, complete with a stairwell up to the top of a shelf filled with contraband. Everything was labeled and organized, except for Bratley’s personal little work space. One of his drawers had a mirror that he used to slowly check me for bulging disks. The clarity of my reflection was stunning but I only saw dead tired eyes and unnaturally swollen neck veins.
“Hmm, long term you’ll be fine. I suggest you refrain from fighting until the sun comes up. Matthius, do you understand?”
“I feel so weak. I don’t understand.”
“What exactly are you confused about?”
“How can Major Bloodaxe conjure the red shadow in the dark? It was my final stand and I could not even find the energy to save myself?”
He went from rolling his eyes around at my stupidity to pointing at me in awe.
“The red shadow- that is genius. I’ve never heard it described that way. It’s so- common.”
“You’ve seen it too? Can a Lantos see it from birth?”
He happily turned to reveal his golden hilt. The measurements were the same as mine but my head was slightly wider by comparison. At least his hair was long enough to hide the thing.
“I bet they work better on you without all that extra body mass to power.”
“That is exactly right. You are on it, little one. Very bright mind indeed.”
“Ha! You call me little one. By the light of day.”
I grabbed his mirror and held it up to show the two of us together. He slapped his face and shook his head, laughing and turning red.
“You have no respect. I’m-I’m twice your elder Cadet. Stop that, give it back.”
“Oh, esteemed Captain. Apologies, honorable General.”
“That would be Emissary to the Lantos.”
He expected me to hold the little hand mirror above his head but I handed it back to him without a struggle. He did not return any of my salutes so I instead began bowing.
“Oh, my mistake. Sire”
“Ha! Stop that.”
“My lord. My liege. Aha, excuse me Master Bratley. That’ll be my ride.”
I pointed my thumb out the door after the sound of the steed’s hooves.
“They’re out then little ‘un. Hey, what’s he doin’ in ‘ere?”
“Excellent work, Corporal Benson. Matthius, I will see you and the Monster Hunter at the bank.”
I looked at him in shock and he curled his finger to bring me back close, though, he was in fact watching Benson sit down and pack his pipe. Even around the guard we spoke in whispers.
“Excuse me? You mean the Command Center?”
“Silly boy, one must have a reason to build in town. Just think, who better to take the risk of issuing loans to the poor than the Lantos? No man can tell us a lie.”
“This might be the lack of air in my head, but, say the Lantos ask of their priests…”
He cocked his head to the side and raised a brow in anticipation.
“What if they want to know exactly whom confessed to what?”
“Why bother? The answer would only confirm what we already know. Trust no one.”
He slapped my cheek twice with his little hand to break the trance and then spoke openly.
“Do eat something before then. After all, it is the most important meal of the day.”
“Breakfast? Ha!”
Corporal Benson was only playing coy, and insulted me under his breath on my way out.
“Monster Hunter? Nothin’ but a Swillian spy and a Congon savage.”
“Corporal, you tried to murder a boy that’s seen fewer melts than your own youngest. Would you not call such an act monstrous? Perhaps we should ask the Misses for her opinion on the matter?”
He was struck by Bratley’s suggestion to tell the wife of his misbehavior. To me, he had made the, mistake of insulting my master.
“Look at me grey skin. No matter how far you march, the Lexicon will beat you there.”
“And what boy?”
“You will ever be the fool that tried to kill the son of Gojinus. By now, the Emperor already knows your face. If I were you, I would run- forever.”
The bastard could not even look at me while I left. The oaf just turned red and grit his teeth, rubbing his throat and swallowing hard. Major Swiftblade grabbed my shell as I was putting it back on. He stopped to show off my neck to those guards still on the wall.
“Do you see what you have done? And under whose orders? Who sent you?”
He held me there, glaring up at them as if he might read the answer written in their eyes. Before I burst into tears from the embarrassment, he let go, and motioned for me to mount up. Once inside the gate, a dense canopy of Scarlet Pines blocked the rain. Most had a pole extending from them to display a lighting globe and it lit up the paved streets rather well. The Early Bell had overgrown the poles and draped their pink, bell shaped flower petals across the lights.
There was only one covered stable wide enough to hold the horned steeds. It had long been filled with excess cargo and garbage. The guards had used it for their own purposes in the many years without an active Commando unit, and they did not even help us to clear it out. Senjay and I pushed everything to one corner to get our steeds in as quickly as possible. We then had to separate the cargo from the garbage.
“Why’s it just the two of us out here?”
“I don’t- ugh. Did you see where Lazarus went?”
“They disappeared into the alley between the barracks and the wall. Bastard Corporal took Kru with him.”
“Oh no! Ugh- my voice.”
“Are you alright? Honestly, it’s for the best. The pups might have gotten sick out in this weather. Besides, you weren’t going to pay the Bloodaxe a whole gold.”
“Yes. I know that. It’s just, I never got to say goodbye to Leiza either.”
“Oh. Oh.”
Senjay sat down on a box and looked at the ground.
“You know, I never got to say goodbye to you. Truth is, they never would have let you out. Even with hiding a stash, you were producing too much and… So, goodbye Matthius. Just in case.”
He held out his hand and only squeezed me just enough. We were soaked and sweaty and shivering all at once. They left us there in a stinky and miserable state for too long. I made sure to hide my face from every passersby. Keeping my back to the corner, I blocked the rain and wind with my shell, and took a cramped and unsatisfying nap until the Majors returned.
My head falling forward to rest was not a problem until someone’s boot kicked my shell a bit too high from the ground. My head snapped back, sending a bolt of pain down my spine. I stood ready to swing but incapable of lifting my arms through the pain.
“Time to go. Are you coming?”
“You’re not a Corporal anymore.”
“What’s wrong with you this time Matthius?”
“Nothing, dog-napper.”
“What? You know I had no choice.”
“Righ
t, and while you snuck off- just forget it. I’m fine.”
The truth was much worse. It was not easy for me to catch up while putting the shell on my back. My right arm no longer wanted to move. Even my neck refused to turn any further to the right than just before straight forward. Though I tried to hide my injuries, I failed.
“Why are you making the old man noises?”
“Sir? I’m just…all dried out now. So, I stink. Yuck.”
Major Swiftblade looked me up and down. I waived at the air in front of my nose. He noticed I did so with only one arm. We continued our march up the mountainside cityscape for a short time. I was staring up at the hanging early bell flowers when we stopped abruptly. I ran into Major Swiftblade and winced loudly.
“And what is that face?”
“Sorry sir, it’s just. There’s nothing we can do anyway.”
“Yes, indeed. Good luck finding the sun today. I suggest you avoid any more fights for a change. You know, just this once.”
“But I didn’t,-”
“I’m serious. There are plain-clothed guards all around. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. Provocation is a fool’s errand. I can see the swelling in your neck, don’t entice someone to finish the job.”
I wanted to object but having no shirt left the truth exposed no matter how hard I tried to hide. He turned back to the small crowd with his eyes down yet focused outward. A few of the well-dressed children had actually stopped Major Bloodaxe, asking for his autograph.
“We’ve got to get off Main. C’mon, we’ll take Beggar’s Pass.”
I noticed where the giant’s eyes had searched and felt silly for not having noticed there were street signs like in Ulfbar Proper. We followed a residential path that circled the mountain, passing the corner of eleventh and east Wide. There were six cart lanes to cross on Wide Street, where the most ornate passenger cars were each being pulled by a trio of beautifully dressed ponies. Even the drivers were finely dressed in many layered robes with combed hair. Once we were across, a lord had his driver turn back. They followed us further down Eleventh to Bard Street. From there, the driver gave chase on foot. His excitement for Major Bloodaxe was childish, but, he explained, it was his master’s bidding. We waited for his old friend, so I leaned on a fence post, head down, and listened to all the local bardery doormen show off their skills in oratory advertisement.
“Calling all heroes. Quarterly update from Dante’s Isle!”
“Rally at the Blood and Bone. Twin-Lions just two fights from winning his freedom.”
“Aha, good for him. Bo-ah-joon is a great fighter indeed.”
Major Swiftblade recognized the name and balled a fist, closing his eyes. The hut across the street had a fence made of spears with a thick plume of smoke billowing from the open center of the roof. The men outside were already drunk and some were wrestling in the muddy yard. Most of the places were themed towards the entertainment they provided, unlike the dull hut behind us. It was very plain and had few tables outside. Even on a rainy day, it was completely empty.
As far north on the lane as I could see stood the most expensive and exquisite bardery. They had no yard because the entire property was one massive redwood structure. The ladies outside were dressed in clean white smocks and bowing at the lords when they entered.
“Fertility rates at a standstill. Would you like greater detail?”
“Worst flu season in a decade, final tallies and statistical analyses. Only three copper for the Surgeon's Review.”
South on the road were more doorwomen- equally dressed up for their roles. Their uniforms made it easy to spot the many factions of the Harlot’s Guild. They had Senjay’s full attention, I did my best to ignore them. The lord that occupied Major Bloodaxe’s time had decided to buy him a drink while we waited. He too grew a proper mustache, but his was much sharper and tidier. The two of them, and a dainty posh girl, got a covered table below the balcony where the bard could address the public. While they spoke in hushed tones, she took her sweet time to slowly remove and fold her superfluous white gloves. They barely matched her soft yellow dress, as it was faded from overuse. Clearly, she was practiced at climbing up the classes. Nothing made me angrier than to see a fellow pauper so openly ashamed of themselves.
“Coffee- all the way from Nubia. They’re making a comeback this year. I tell you, the Swillians have never looked so weak. All across the globe, people are biting their nails waiting for the Emperor to die. The time to strike back is nearly at hand.”
“Well, we finally got coffee back in Embraun. That’s as sure a sign as any.”
“Don’t you worry m’lady, we will take full advantage. Just waiting for the right time is all. Lent, by the gods you have gotten old on us!”
The good Major was glad to have been interrupted by the Bard himself. A wiry haired man with a pair of spectacles followed the serving girl outside and took the last seat at the table uninvited. The lord’s choice of company was forming a pattern. Both the serving girl and his young wife had bright golden hair and glowing emerald eyes- in stark contrast to his black hair, eyes, and robes. His status was reinforced by the bard’s own stained robes, and cracked leather sandals.
“Bully for the Bard. Fresh Nubian coffee, only while supplies last.”
“Half-an-Assassin lost to the Incursion. Midnight memorial tonight at the Bully.
“Rumors of a live ram for the sacrifice.”
“No, their pulling our pants down Mary. You cannot afford a live ram.”
“You know us well, good sir, but the Halfer was a Lantos favorite.”
“Only the infamous Shadow-Gal-three-eight-four remains hidden in the empire. Donate to her cause here at the Bully!”
“All the spies ate it this winter. What news could she possibly attain on her own?”
“Somber faces and sour tones from the code breakers this morning, sire.”
“The Emperor lives, Half-an-Assassin crucified, Swillians marching on the Nepori. The first coffee’s free for every party of two or more.”
“One copper a chock today, get out of the rain and warm up at the Bully!”
“Boy. Hey, boy.”
“C’mere, boy-o.”
“Oh, sorry sir. Master Bard, your doormen are very talented.”
The men at the table waved me over the chain fence. I crept over expecting to be tackled by a guard. The man bowed silently as he left the table to save his voice for the show, though, the inside seating was nearly empty as well. The lady at the table backed away as I approached and did not bother to hide the look of disgust on her face.
“Gunther! Fetch Nurse Leona.”
“Right away sir.”
The lord’s driver tied up his reins and blinked at the sign post several times- due to habit- and then glared at the surrounding crowd. No one bothered the unprotected cart, even though it was left at the intersection of Bard Street and Beggar’s Lane. Feeling we were almost to the pass, I too decided to acquiesce to the lord. I bowed and introduced myself, taking the lady by surprise.
“Good day my lord, and madam. I am Matthius of Ulfbar.”
“That’s Cadet Commando now, son. Wear what little honor you have with pride.”
“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”
“Well met young lad, Lord Prinn, Master Surgeon. Please, join us at the table. I hold no qualm with you, just one of the many refugees from the empire- spots or not.”
“Thank you sir. I’ve never heard it described that way. You must be very well read.”
“That’s right. Doc’s the best there is. Even remolded my hilts without removing them. Turned me into a walking piece of art, the good kind- that inspires fear.”
“Excellent work sir. They clearly have suffered no loss of function whilst also scaring the piss out of criminals.”
“Aha! Bully.”
The good doctor slapped the table and finished his small cup of coffee. He was very pleased with himself and stroked his fine mustache while looking me over, imagining
the many experiments for which I could serve. It was no coincidence that his driver reappeared with the nurse- as well as a medicine chest. He held up his hand to stop the serving girl and spoke to us all at once.
“Leona, we’ll have a fresh pot of coffee at the Review today. These are dire times, we need bold ideas.”
“But sir, the sample?”
“Yes, that first.”
He extended his hand to my direction and Gunther handed the nurse tools with which to begin preparing for a surgery. She completed the pattern, with her white gold hair and glowing green eyes. I understood why the young misses was acting so territorial.
“Uh, sir. I know you favor the cran-preserved…”
“Yes, very good Sammy,-”
“Sir. A whole pot is three silver. Are you sure?”
“Three silver? That’s it? I told you Zelsa, best prices in town. Pay the lass a whole gold. That’s one for the day, and two in reserve for the Review.”
“Yes sir. Right away my lord.”
The Lady Zelsa was very pleased to be reaching into her coin purse. And, while I was distracted, the nurse cut into the meat of my shoulder. She then inserted a snake’s fang connected to a long hollow reed that could bend without snapping.
“Owie, owie, owie! Why did you- what are you doing?”
“Oh quit crying and be a big boy. You dumb barbarians. You may not know this, but I can see a bulging disk. If it weren’t for that hilt you’d be paralyzed- or worse- by now. This is nothing but a prick. I’m surprised you felt it at all.”
The good doctor watched her drain my blood into vials with glee. Each one had been previously labeled and topped with a metallic screw thread like our water jugs and powder bags. The sample box was metal as well, and filled with ice chips leveled to the tops of the vials. Before I could protest, she finished squeezing my shoulder muscle dry and tucked the last sample into the ice.
“The stamp’s hot. Don’t cry about it.”
She pulled out the drawer of a tiny porcelain container filled with hot steam. With the tongs from the medicine chest, she picked out a single layer of the thinnest cloth ever, and draped it over my shoulder. Hot water droplets ran down my body but evaporated very quickly. A few blows on the stamp dried it up. I caught a faint whiff of tree sap, which is likely how it stuck in place.
