by Keith Walsh
Dallious noticed the second Watchman of the two he had rushed was bending down attending to his companion and so he made no movement towards him. Instead he turned his attention to the other remaining Watchmen. The man tending to his downed companion eyed Dallious for a moment. “You bastard!” he said before turning back to the wounded man. These men are not well trained, thought Dallious.
Captain Markus was still trying to regain his focus but it angered him that his men aided him instead of subduing his assailant. “Don’t worry about me you fools!” he said. “Get the man responsible!” The two Watchmen who had been tending to him drew their swords and prepared to meet the now advancing cripple.
The other Watchmen were somewhat taken aback by everything that had happened but begun to circle Dallious, inspired by both their Captain’s outburst and the fact they could see some of the Manson brothers starting to move in behind their target. A large figure emerging from the tavern, axe in hand, caught Dallious’ attention for just a moment before he was forced to parry a vicious cut aimed at his abdomen.
“Watch your back!” a voice called. Dallious dove to his left and hitting his shoulder hard into the ground he winced before going into a roll and coming to his feet away from whomever may have been behind him. In that split second of respite from combat his actions had given him, he managed to see it was Magnus who had shouted the warning. He nodded his thanks before side-stepping another attack from one of the Watchmen. At that moment some brave fool from the crowd tried to grab at Dallious but received a swift elbow to the face for their trouble and were sent screaming to the ground.
Dallious felt a little angry that the others had not obeyed him and stayed in the tavern but this wasn’t the time to dwell on it. “Hey you!” said Magnus, moving toward one of the Watchmen, trying to make sure he had his attention. And he wasn’t disappointed when the man he had shouted at turned on him, taking his focus away from Dallious.
With gentle urgency, Captain Markus wiped the tears still welling in his eyes. His nose was broken, previous experience all the evidence he needed to know it, but he had to get back on his feet and into the fight. Dallious stood strong against two Watchmen, their aggression easily avoided for someone with his skill. Their companions had broken away to deal with Magnus.
Dallious wanted to instruct the big man not to kill the Watch but he didn’t want to give away that fact as they could use it to their advantage, and so he decided to let the battle flow how it may. Grott ambled from the Tavern, mace in hand, and he could see Dallious facing off against two Watchmen. Two more advanced on Magnus but the thing that caught his attention the most was Jake, one of the Manson brothers, had been downed and his brother Samuel was helping him. He couldn’t help beaming at the sight, for he had been most concerned with the two Manson brothers who were part of the Watch and yet they were already out of the fight.
He guessed Dallious had been responsible for the fact but doubted the man had any idea who he had wounded. So much for being a cripple, thought Grott. Finally his eyes rested on Mark, the Manson brother who had freshly injured his already damaged leg by kicking it the previous night. Let’s see how you like my new mace you fucker! he thought.
Dallious performed a web of death, his sword swinging in an ‘X’-like motion from right to left and skilfully blocking two simultaneous attacks from the Watchmen that stood against him. The move completed and its outcome successful he stepped into the leftmost Watchman and head-butted him with tremendous force. The man’s nose exploded in a spray of red and as he staggered back Dallious helped him on his way with a kick to the midriff.
The other Watchman, seeing what had transpired, brought his sword down towards the outstretched leg of Dallious but he blocked the attack then following the forward momentum of his soon-to-land foot he stepped with it, pushing the Watchman’s blade awkwardly across the man’s body. He pinned his attacker’s sword under his foot before unleashing an elbow straight into the Watchman’s cheekbone. The man fell back with a yelp and Dallious followed him, landing a sword pommel blow to the temple. He sank instantly, one of his legs getting trapped at an unnatural angle under his body as he did so.
The most recent threat dealt with, Dallious took a moment to take in the scene. Magnus had gotten the attention of two Watchmen and was about to be engaged. Grott was making his way towards a few plain-clothed men. Dallious guessed it must be some of the Manson brothers but he couldn’t really remember all the faces from the previous night – only the one who had taken his money and hurt the girl.
He saw Durok trying to pry Lucy’s fingers from his arm. He was stuck halfway between the tavern door and the fight, and in a way he felt glad she delayed the blacksmith. With luck this would be over before the man got involved. Dallious liked him but doubted his ability as a fighter, and he didn’t want to see him hurt. Shaper was nowhere to be seen.
Captain Markus seemed to have regained his senses and he currently grabbed a sword from the first Watchman that Dallious had downed, again berating the other who was tending the wounded man.
Movement on the ground in front of him caught Dallious’ attention and he noticed the Watchman whose nose he had head-butted moments ago was getting to his feet. He stepped forward and lashed his boot into the man’s chin. There was a sickening crack before the man slumped to the earth unconscious. Captain Markus is the biggest threat now, thought Dallious and he made towards the now standing Captain.
Magnus’ mouth felt dry and his heart raced. It had been a long time since last he fought and in truth it had been his intention to leave that life behind. Calm yourself, he thought. It will do you no good to exhaust your energy with unchecked adrenaline. As this second thought occurred to him Magnus was forced to block an arcing blade that was aimed at his head. Another Watchman stepped in and tried to stab Magnus’ exposed belly but a dagger caught the Watchman’s sword arm and he dropped his weapon and fell back screaming. He dropped his shield and grabbed at the offending dagger stuck in his arm.
Magnus had no idea where the dagger had come from but he was grateful for it. He would not have had time to block that attack to his abdomen. Another blade swung at him from the Watchman whose blow he had blocked and this time Magnus parried it to his right before shoulder-barging the man. The Watchman stumbled a little but managed, barely, to bring his shield up in time to block a devastating axe swing from Magnus. His blade bit deeply into the shield, splitting it in two.
The Watchman fell back, his eyes wide and Magnus wasted no time in sending a powerful left cross to the man’s cheek, snapping his head back. Then he turned the axe backwards and swung it into the dazed Watchman, knocking him unconscious. Dallious has downed four and yet all of them still breathe, thought Magnus. The man easily had the skill to kill so Magnus felt right in his choice not to deliver a fatal blow.
The Watchman who had taken the dagger to the arm had since removed it and stood eyeing Magnus. He made no attempt to recover his sword and had a look of resignation etched on his face. “I would rather not have to kill you,” said Magnus to the man, pointing his axe menacingly. “Simply walk away.” The Watchman, still cradling his wounded arm, cast a nervous glance towards his Captain and seeing the man engaged with the cripple, he decided to take the advice and stepped aside. “Wise choice,” said Magnus, before warily walking past the man.
Grott hadn’t really thought his actions through. He wanted so badly to get revenge on Mark, the Manson brother who had kicked his leg the previous night, that he didn’t consider the fact that Jack, Paul and Matt would be there to back him up. Now surrounded by four Manson’s, his mistake clear in his mind, he thought of just one word: IDIOT!
“Feel like the big man now with your mace do ye Grott?” said Matt, drawing a dagger from his belt, his eyes full of contempt. Grott didn’t respond, too busy watching Jack and Paul take turns feigning to rush him. Suddenly he felt a smack to the back of his head and turned quickly to see it was Mark who had struck him. Grott knew they were toying with him
and he felt a wave of panic flood through his body. He took a desperate swing at Mark but the younger, more agile man avoided it easily and laughed. His brothers could be heard joining in and Grott felt his blood start to boil, leaching some of the panic.
“Real big men aren’t ye?” said Grott. “Four on one,” he spat. “You should have minded your own business Grott,” said Matt.
“It is my business,” replied Grott, turning to face Matt. “It happened in my business, to one of my patrons and one of my staff,” he continued while flicking his head around trying to keep eyes on all of the circling brothers.
“Well, it’s obvious that smashing your leg didn’t teach you any manners,” said Mark, and Grott swung at the man his mace catching him full on the cheek. There was a sickening crack as blood and teeth spewed through the air and Mark dropped to his knees. “You fucking bastard!” shouted Matt, seeing what had happened to his brother. “You’ll die for that Grott,” he added, before lunging. Grott, his emotions somewhere between shock and awe at what he had done to Mark, didn’t see the attack coming in time. Matt’s dagger plunged into the tavern keeper’s belly and he rammed it home with deadly intent.
Grott screamed and immediately dropped his mace, his hands clasping at the freshly opened wound. Pain seared through his stomach and he stumbled, staring at Matt in disbelief. Matt met the accusing eyes, his own unyielding. Then he twisted his dagger violently before wrenching it clear of Grott’s body. Blood spewed from the tavern keeper’s mouth and everything around him started to dull. An incessant ringing echoed in his ears, drowning out all other sound. It’s almost peaceful, thought Grott as he fell to his knees then onto his side.
There he lay, unmoving, his breaths coming in short spluttering bursts. He watched two images, one of blistering white, the other dark as shadow, clash against each other in the distance. Dallious, he thought.
And his eyes closed.
“Serves him fucking right,” came a mumbled voice. It was Mark, cradling his damaged cheek from the aftermath of the mace blow. Jack and Paul were taken aback. They hadn’t really expected their brother to kill the tavern keeper. They thought this punch-up was just a bit of excitement. Paul turned away from the scene and vomited. Jack moved to his side and placed a supportive hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Matt stared at the still body lying in front of him and a malevolent smile crept across his face.
Chapter 18
“No!” shouted Magnus as he spotted the downed body of Grott. “Durok!” Upon hearing his name, the blacksmith looked to see it was Magnus that called for him and following the man’s gaze he too spotted Grott’s body. Lucy saw it also and her hand shot to her mouth, unintentionally releasing her grip on her husband. She shook her head in disbelief, tears spilling Durok didn’t hesitate to take advantage of his wife’s release, and he moved with purpose to stand beside Magnus. This time Lucy didn’t try to stop him, her full focus now on poor Grott.
Dallious heard Magnus’ cry but he didn’t have time to see what had happened, as he was too busy blocking another attack from Captain Markus. The man had skill and Dallious was struggling to deal with him. Yeah, with your left hand maybe, he thought before cursing allowed. What chance do I have against Kalen if I can’t even best a Town Watch Captain? This thought angered him and he lashed out recklessly. Captain Markus parried the attack easily, then delivered a thrust of his own, aimed at his opponent’s right leg.
Dallious managed to twist just in time to cause the blade to slash across his upper thigh instead of stabbing through it. Still, the wound was deep and caused him pain enough to miss the thundering left hook Captain Markus followed up with. Plated gauntlet bit hard into Dallious’ cheek and his vision swam. He staggered and felt a heavy boot crash against his abdomen, which sent him flying to the ground. Landing with a thud, the air knocked out of him, he dropped his sword and struggled for breath.
He had been winded before and knew he just had to remain calm and try to breathe evenly – something that would be difficult considering Captain Markus was already moving on him.
As he walked towards Dallious Captain Markus surveyed his surroundings. He already knew Jake and his brother Samuel were out of the fight for he had taken the sword he held from Jake while berating Samuel for not staying in the struggle. Three more of his men were unconscious. Another stood aside weaponless as if part of the crowd, nursing an injured arm. His six men were out of the fight, but there was one thing that caught his attention the most. All of them are still alive.
No sooner had the thought hit him and he noticed the tavern keepers still body. He had only been assigned to this Watch recently and the man’s name escaped him, but he felt anger well up upon seeing the sight. A death at his new assignment already. Whomever was responsible would pay. He also noted the two large men, weapons raised, moving toward the body and four of the Manson brothers. I must intervene before anyone else dies, he thought. But the cripple has to be contained first.
“The only reason you are not dead is because my men still draw breath,” said Captain Markus, now standing above Dallious, his large frame blocking out the sun that glistened on the plate armour he wore. Almost Angelic, thought Dallious, still trying to calm his breathing. He needed to buy a little time and so he feigned resignation, easing his body back to a lying position and holding his hand up in a submissive gesture while giving Captain Markus a look that suggested the fight was done.
“I would not be fooled again so easily my good Sir,” said Captain Markus as if reading Dallious’ mind. “Samuel, get over here and guard this man or I’ll see you to the cells myself.” Samuel thought about objecting but his brother Jake had had his injured leg bandaged now, and he had no wish to be placed in the Watch prison for the night. All this and the fact he saw the man to be guarded was the one who had caused his brother’s injury spurred him to action.
Dallious did nothing to agitate the situation. He figured that this Watchman would be easier to deal with than the Captain. As soon as Samuel arrived and held his sword against the submissive cripple’s throat, Captain Markus made for the two large men he had spotted moving against the Mason brothers earlier. “Keep him alive Samuel,” he ordered over his shoulder. “Yes Sir,” replied Samuel but Dallious could see malice in the young man’s eyes, and with his breathing now nearly under control he decided he would make his move soon.
***
“You son of a whore Matt,” said Magnus, eyeing the Mason brother who stood staring so malevolently at the unmoving Grott. Matt looked up and glared at the big man now standing but a few feet away from him. His fingers twitched on the handle of his bloodied dagger. “So… you want some too, do ye?” said Matt, flicking his eyes between Magnus and Durok. Mark had moved behind his brother on seeing the two large men approach, his jaw aching. Paul had recovered from his vomiting and he and Jack stood nervously at their brother’s side.
Only Matt was armed – he always had his dagger with him. The others didn’t see the point of carrying weapons when the Watch were backing them. They weren’t used to people standing up to them and they didn’t like it. Normally they got to watch all the fun from the sidelines but this time they were smack in the middle of a bad situation. “He attacked us,” said Paul, as if that made everything okay.
“Shut the fuck up!” shouted Matt, casting a fierce look at his younger brother who immediately ducked his head. “We don’t need to explain ourselves to the likes of these fuckers!” he continued, while pointing his dagger at Durok and Magnus aggressively. “They are better armed then you Matt,” chipped in Jack, eager not to see any harm befall his big brother and risking a scolding.
Matt spat. “Yeah but there are four of us right…” he looked at each of his brothers but none of them seemed particularly up for the challenge. “Right?” he said again. “I’m in no condition to fight,” mumbled Mark, “I think my jaw’s broken,” he added, probing the side of his face with his fingers and glancing at the sword and axe Durok and Magnus held.
“Yeah, and we don’t even have any weapons,” said Jack with a shrug of his shoulders. Paul didn’t say anything but his eyes and body language were clearly of a boy out of his depth.
Matt glared at his brothers in turn and each of them looked away. “Looks like your brother’s true colours are finally showing Matt,” said Magnus. Matt turned on the big man instantly, his eyes blazing, “I’ll fucking deal with you myself then, you walking trunk!” he snarled. And with that he lashed out with his dagger, aiming for Magnus’ throat.
The big man dodged the blade and swung his axe with an upward motion, catching Matt’s outstretched arm at the wrist. The awkward angle of the attack meant the blow lacked enough power to sever the hand, but it did cause Matt to cry out and drop his dagger. “You fucker!” he shrieked, shaking his hand before pulling it to his chest. There he examined it, rolling back his tunic sleeve. No open wound could be found but his forearm throbbed.
Durok saw that Matt was now disarmed, and knowing the others to be the same, he thrust his sword into the earth and advanced on them. I will kill if I have to, but not in cold blood, he thought. Jack saw the blacksmith discard his weapon, and felt his confidence grow a little. He nudged Paul’s shoulder to encourage him. Paul responded with a gulp but then moved to the right of Durok, Jack taking the left. “That’s it boys,” mumbled Mark in support but ruling himself out of the fight.
“Goodbye Matt,” said Magnus, ignoring what was happening between Durok and the other brothers and swinging his axe toward the defenceless Manson brother who had murdered Grott. For the first time in this fight, fear gripped Matt and he stood frozen, awaiting his inevitable death. Just as the axe was about to split his skull he closed his eyes, but the sound of clashing steel forced them open again and he saw that Captain Markus had blocked the deadly axe blow. Relief washed over him and he stepped backwards, allowing room for the Captain to stand between him and the man who had tried to kill him.
