Guards Vestige

by Alexander Adams

  The contract from Luden sold quickly, as only one man bid on it. The next contract was from Dawnstone, but it also was unenticing, as the pay was too low for the workload. It went unsold. As the contract holder made his way offstage with a distraught look on his face, the third contract was announced. The holder for this one stepped up next to the auctioneer; he was a tall, frail-looking man with sunken cheeks and deep set eyes. His skin and hair were the color of dirty snow and he looked over the room with an expression of annoyance.

  “Now, Mr. Dale is requesting two hundred sets of iron manacles,” the auctioneer said. “Four links of one-inch iron rings in length. The contract must be fulfilled in the timespan of one year or a penalty will be assessed in the form of a 50 percent pay cut. A completed set of manacles shall be provided for reference upon purchase of the contract. The price begins at two gold and fifty silver marks per set, totaling five hundred gold marks.”

  Two hundred manacles in a year, Griffon thought. A single one would take no longer than a day, maybe two factoring in unseen delays. The time given was absurd and the price more so. It sounded like a city contract, most likely for the Dalisia Royal Army. City contracts always paid well, but still, offering so much for seemingly so little? This was obviously in anticipation of the price drop during the bidding phase, but even so it was far over what was necessary. Griffon was so caught up thinking about what their family could do with the money that she didn’t realize the bidding had already begun.

  The first few bidders tried to keep the price as high as possible, so the bids dropped only by small intervals of copper and silver marks. Griffon had to get this contract. This amount of money could sustain her family for well over a year while at the same time letting them finally start to get out of the hole they had been in for so long. They could buy better tools and get more workers, which could lead to better contracts. This could start a chain of events that would save her family. She gave the other bidders time to drop the price to one gold and ninety silver marks before she joined in.

  “One eighty!” She dropped her bid by a full ten silver to scare her competitors away.

  It did just that. Several irritated bidders cast angry glances in her direction as the price began dropping in larger intervals of silver. They all knew this was a valuable contract, easy to fill and highly profitable if the forge was the right size. For Griffon’s family, it was still profitable even at fifty silver marks. She could go lower than anyone else and most of them knew it.

  “One seventy!”

  The bid came from across the room at the opposite corner. She recognized the bidder as Mathew Fox. He was virtually a king in Forge. He owned several forges and could use any one of them to fulfill a contract. Each was a different size with varying amounts of employees so he would never risk losing a profit on a smaller contract and could essentially monopolize the whole system. Now that he was in the running, her hopes of winning dropped. She decided to try anyway. She had to.

  “One sixty nine!” She dropped her bid one mark below his each time he raised his hand.

  After several more drops, the rest of the room stopped bidding. Most of the Forge operations were too large and carried too much overhead to settle for such a low price. Now that it was just between her and Fox, they glared at one another from across the room as the price dropped to one gold and fifty-two silver marks. But now they slowed their pace. The price drops had gone back to copper, Griffon still dropping hers only one below his. She hoped to simply annoy him and wear him down. Then Fox averted his gaze toward her and stared straight ahead. He seemed to forget her presence and lifted one hand to exaggeratedly scratch at the stubble on his upper lip. Griffon’s eyes widened. She felt a twinge of fear as she realized what was about to happen.

  She felt a heavy hand firmly grip her shoulder and a sharp point dig into her lower back. It was an enforcer, someone paid to bully and threaten the competition into backing down. She felt the thin knife dig into her back with a slight increase in pressure. This wasn’t the first time she had been threatened. She knew the routine by now. Say nothing and wait for current contract bidding to finish. She realized she had been too aggressive. If she had slowed it down then maybe he would have let her have the contract. But she had pushed too hard and he had chosen to push back to save his pride.

  She mentally kicked herself as she heard the auctioneer declare the contract sold to Fox for one gold and fifty one silver marks. The auctioneer started reading the next contract and Griffon was surprised when the blade at her back lingered. Her anger rose to a breaking point. Fox was shutting her out for the rest of the auction. She knew her father would be furious with her. For a moment she considered bidding and risking the knife but knew it would be slightly less painful to let her father throw a rage. Her frustration boiled as the next contract for the Crescent Wings mercenary company went with no bids for several long and frustrating moments. Eventually it was declared void and the man was dismissed until the next scheduled auction. It had been for a decent amount, and the perfect contract for her family, but it had still been far too small for any of the other smiths, including Fox, to waste their time on. Coming home with a terrible contract would have been far better than returning to face her father emptyhanded. Her face flushed red and her hands balled into fists. This was absurd, being forced to stay silent like this. She hated being unable to fight back, she hated being helpless, hated losing.

  The last contracts were sold and the auction ended. The moment the auctioneer dismissed the crowd, the knife was removed from her back. She turned to get a look at the enforcer but he had already melted into the crowd. She was fuming as she roughly pushed her way through everyone to start her walk home. Halfway back, she stopped and turned into an alleyway. She leaned against the wall and looked at the sky between the two buildings. With a sigh she slid down the wall, sat on the cold, hard-packed dirt, and watched the dull-grey clouds drift by until she felt a drop of rain land on her chin. Her father was going to be furious. They currently had no income. Griffon had just lost their only chance at any for a long while.

  She hated this feeling of dread. She knew what was going to happen to her when she returned home but knew there was no way to prevent it. On one hand she was actually thankful it was her rather than Richard. They were similar in build but her brother was far more sensitive than she was. Not that it made it any better. She sighed again and moved away from the wall and out onto the street to start her slow walk through the city. The rain began to lightly fall, further dampening her mood.

  Griffon sighed. “I guess it’s best to get it over with quickly,” she mumbled, “then leave and give him time to cool off.”

  She slowly walked toward home, her head hung low. As she entered the craftsman district, her eyes caught motion to her right through a long alley. She snapped her head up and recognized Mathew Fox. He was speaking to someone hidden from her view. To her surprise, Fox looked frightened. She was too far away to make out the words he was saying and her curiosity got the better of her. She quickly ducked into the alley and made her way forward, keeping to the shadows. As she got closer the conversation became clear.

  Griffon crouched next to the wall and listened to Fox speak with a tone dripping with fear and tinged with anger: “I was under the impression that this was a city contract. If you’re an independent looking for this many manacles you are clearly looking to operate out of Edaren authority, which means that you can find them somewhere else.”

  The hidden man’s tone was smooth yet intimidating. “What you know doesn’t change anything,” he said. “The contract was never stated to be given by any city. That was entirely your own assumption. In addition to you being bound by city law to complete the contract, I can make you fulfill it. Though I’d rather you do so willingly. It would be far less taxing.”

  “I’m not making anything for you,” Fox said. “I don’t know what these are for but if they aren’t for the Royal Army
or a city watch then I will have no part in this!”

  She heard the man sigh. “I see,” he said. “As much as I’d love for us to get what we need another way, the manpower required is not something I have at the moment. So let’s just see if we can change your mind.”

  Griffon moved closer to get a better view of the hidden man, but was too focused on their conversation to pay attention to her own footing. Her foot caught on a brick that had fallen from the nearby building. She stumbled forward and grunted as her elbow scraped against the wall. Faster than she had thought possible, she felt several pairs of hands grip her arms and shoulders. She didn’t have time to react as they covered her mouth and lifted her up to drag her forward through the alley and shove her to her knees. One of them roughly grabbed her by the hair and forced her gaze forward.

  She locked eyes with the figure in front of her. Dale. She glanced around and saw that in addition to the three men gripping Griffon, two other men and three women behind him carried swords at their hips. Dale had his hands clasped in front of him and looked at her, his head tilted to one side.

  “Who is she?” He was speaking to Fox again.

  “Uh, she was bidding against me at the auction.”

  Dale sighed. “Who is she?”

  He stuttered. “I-I think her name is, uh, Hart.”

  With another sigh and a roll of his eyes, he motioned for the men holding Griffon to let go of her mouth. “Who are you?” he asked.

  She tried to come up with another name but her mind was blank. Unable to lie, she simply told the truth. “Griffon.”

  “Griffon . . . what?” he spoke the last word through gritted teeth.

  “Hart. I’m Griffon Hart.”

  “All right then, Ms. Hart, what were you doing in the alley?”

  She had no idea how to answer.

  After a moment of silence Dale lightly nodded. “I see. Well, Ms. Hart, my name is Cardin Dale, and you should know that I don’t appreciate liars and spies.” He motioned to the men holding her and they drug her backwards through a doorway.

  She knew there was no point in struggling but she did anyway. She pulled against their hands but didn’t have the physical strength or leverage to break their grip. She wasn’t even sure they noticed her struggle. They took her down a short hall and into a large open room with a vaulted ceiling and support beams spanning between the walls. She recognized the smell and the heat of lit forges before she could see anything. Several lit forges with open stone chimneys lined the walls, while a few others sat cold and unlit. She assumed it was one of the larger buildings Fox owned.

  She continued to struggle as the two men dragged her through the room toward another door at the far end. All she managed was to increase her panic as they held firm. As they neared the door, one of the men loosened his grip and reached behind his back. A moment later his legs collapsed under him and he fell to the floor. Both Griffon and the other man looked at him in confusion that lasted only a second before Griffon spotted the black feather fletched arrow protruding from between his shoulder blades. The second man released her arm and reached for the sword at his belt but was stopped short as another arrow flew through the air and into his throat. He made no sound and fell to the floor in a heap.

  Griffon was stunned. She stared at the arrow protruding from the man’s neck for several heartbeats. His blood oozed around the shaft and ran down his neck, pooling on the stone floor. It took every bit of effort she could muster to pull her gaze away from the arrow in the man’s neck. She scanned the room. When she couldn’t see anyone, she rose cautiously to her feet. She realized it didn’t matter where the arrows came from as they clearly hadn’t been aiming for her. She decided to try to get out of the room as quickly as possible. She walked the rest of the way to the door behind her and turned the handle. It opened into an empty storage room with no windows or visible exits.

  She pulled it closed without entering and made her way back to the only other door in the building. She knew it was unlikely that Dale and Fox had left, but there was no other way out. At the very least she had to see if it was safe. Before she made it halfway across the room, however, the door swung open and Dale stepped through, followed by Fox and six others. When they saw her standing alone next to two dead men, the six drew their swords. Fox seemed to stare in awe at Griffon. Dale simply seemed annoyed.

  Dale looked at each of the bodies before speaking. “All right, Ms. Hart, what are you? Couldn’t be a warden, you don’t have the steel in your eyes. Scholars tend to keep their hands clean of this sort of thing. A ranger, then?” He glared at her as a look of confusion crossed her features. He motioned to the six. “It’s not her. One of you on the door, the rest of you spread out and search the room. That ranger from Navia probably followed us here.”

  They did as they were told. Five of them formed a line across the room with Dale in the middle. The line started slowly moving forward while their heads swiveled back and forth, scanning the room. Fox stood near the door looking dumbstruck next to the single guard. As the line of armed men and women made their way toward Griffon, she started to back away, not that it mattered. They seemed to be ignoring her completely.

  Not knowing what to do, Griffon started to scan the room as well, trying to pick out a hidden figure from the shadows. Her eyes settled on a patch of black that seemed out of place. A hooded figure jumped from the support beams onto the top of a cold forge without making a sound. She watched with fascination as the figure stepped off of the forge and onto the floor. The door was just in front of the ranger. The guard was watching the line of his companions as they searched, completely unaware of the person behind him.

  The ranger looked to be a man, though his loose-fitting clothing and hood made it hard to be sure. He carried a bow in one hand and made his way to Fox. With a quick swing, the ranger struck him in the back of the head with the bow, sending Fox to the ground. The moment the wood of the bow connected, the men and women around Dale turned at the noise. The ranger drew an arrow from the quiver hanging at his belt. He nocked the arrow and fired in a single smooth motion, striking one of the women in the center of her chest. The man that had been guarding the door was slow to react. The ranger brought his hand up, open palmed, into the man’s nose, sending his head reeling back. The ranger quickly smashed him in the throat with the bow, sending the thug to the floor.

  As the man fell, the remaining men and women under Dale’s command charged. With another quick motion, the ranger downed another with a second arrow. The ranger tossed the bow aside and unclipped a small hand axe from his belt as the other three closed in. The ranger blocked an overhead strike from one of the approaching men. Using the axe head, he twisted his opponent’s sword down and to the side and brought his other hand around up into his gut. When the man doubled over, the ranger lifted his knee to strike the man in the face, sending him into unconsciousness.

  One of the women swung at the ranger, but he was too quick. The ranger spun out of the way of the downward swing and planted the axe firmly into the woman’s gut. He left it there as she fell back. The ranger dropped to the ground and swept out the legs of the last fighter, knocking her to the ground. The woman’s head hit the cold stone with a sickening thud. Now Dale charged at Griffon and grabbed her around the neck. He stood behind her with a dagger pressed against the side of her neck and a hand gripping her hair. The ranger retrieved his axe from the fallen attacker before slowly making his way toward Dale.

  The ranger stopped roughly ten feet away when Dale shouted, “Get back, ranger! Come any closer and her blood is on your hands!”

  The ranger froze and stared at them without a word. The ranger’s armor was dotted with spots of blood. His face was hidden in the shadows of the black hood.

  “Drop all your weapons and back away!” Dale shouted.

  The ranger did as instructed, dropping the axe and unclipping the quiver from his belt. It fell
to the ground and spilled arrows onto the floor.

  “I said all of your weapons,” Dale barked. “Don’t take me for a fool! I know how your kind likes to hide things.”

  Slowly, the ranger reached behind his back to let two small pouches drop. Several knives and thin, needle-like darts rolled onto the floor. The ranger also reached up under the heavy black scarf and removed another short, wide blade, letting it too fall to the ground with a clang that signaled the sheer weight of it. When the echo receded, the newly unarmed ranger backed away from the small arsenal on the floor and spread his hands wide to signal he had no more weapons. Griffon had no idea what was going on, but since the hooded man had saved her from the two men before and dealt with the others, she figured the ranger was on her side.

  Dale tightened his grip on Griffon. “Good,” he said. “Now tell me: How did you find me?”

  The ranger shrugged. “You Disciple lackeys tend to have an odor. Not hard to track.” The ranger was indeed a man, though his voice was softer than Griffon had expected.

  “Cut the act.” Griffon felt the dagger press harder into her skin. “Now tell me.”

  The ranger took a small step forward. “Why don’t you tell me something instead? What do you need the manacles for? What have you been up to lately? If you need that many, it’s got to be something pretty big.”

  They continued to bicker back and forth. Griffon tuned their words out as an idea formed in her mind. She glanced at the ranger, giving him what she hoped was an almost imperceptible nod. She could tell he noticed by the fact the he balled his hands into fists. Griffon likewise balled her right hand. Then, with every ounce of her strength, she hammered her fist back hard between Dale’s legs.

  His grip on her released immediately. The knife moved far enough away from her throat to allow her to move down and sideways, out of his reach and out of the way of the ranger. At the same moment, the ranger lifted an arm and flexed his fist downward while keeping the arm straight out. There was a barely audible click, followed by silence. After a moment, Dale lifted a hand to his throat and stared at the ranger with wide eyes. He slowly sank to the floor, still gripping his neck.