by James Wisher
“Yes, mother,” Gabriel said.
Xander glanced up at the sky, almost high sun. Six hours until sunset, six hours with Morgrin whining and boasting and giving orders he’d feel compelled to ignore. It was going to be a long afternoon.
“Come on, Come on.” Morgrin said.
“The poles are in the shed,” Xander said. “Race you.”
Xander sprinted for the shed, Gabriel hot on his heals leaving Morgrin far behind. Xander skidded to a halt two steps ahead of his brother, bent double, sucking air.
“Beat you,” He said between gasps.
“I’ll get you next time,” Gabriel said his breath coming in wheezes.
Morgrin arrived about the time Xander caught his breath. He took the basket from Gabriel while his brother opened the shed door. Inside the shed a clutter of tools, shovels, rakes, hoes, you name it, filled all three sides. In the far left corner half a dozen cane poles leaned against the wall. Xander took one and slung the odds and ends bag over his shoulder. Gabriel grabbed his pole and a shovel.
They found Morgrin glaring at them when they came out. “Poles are in the back,” Xander said.
“I want that one.” Morgrin pointed at the pole in Xander’s hand.
Xander narrowed his eyes, ready for the first fight of the day. Out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother subtle head shake. Fine, he’d play nice for now. Xander tossed him the pole and went to fetch another; they were all the same anyway.
When Xander had a new pole they set out for the pond. The walk usually took ten minutes but with Morgrin along it took half an hour. When the crystal blue water came in sight Xander sighed, his tension fading. After the library the pond was his favorite place on the estate. Boulders jutted out in the pond, perfect for sun bathing while you fished or for jumping off in the summer. A little brook ran into it from the west and a second ran out to the southeast.
Gabriel found a damp spot in the shade and set to digging. Soon they each had a fat worm on their hooks. Xander settled on to his favorite flat rock and flicked his line out.
“I’m going to catch the most fish,” Morgrin said, as if by saying it would make so.
To make a lie of his words Xander’s rod bent and after a brief struggle he hoisted a fat sixteen inch rainbow trout out of the pond. Xander set fish and rod on the ground and dug a three foot length of rope with a spike on one end out of the satchel. He tied the fish to the line, drove the spike into the bank, and tossed the fish back into the pond to keep cool.
“I will catch the most fish.” Morgrin glared at Xander.
Two hours later Xander had two trout, Gabriel one and Morgrin nothing. Morgrin threw his pole down, stomped over to an oak stump and sat. He looked over at Xander. “Bring me something to eat.”
Xander looked over and raised an eyebrow. “Come get it yourself.”
Morgrin heaved himself up and planted his fists on his ample hips. “I said bring me that basket, now.”
No longer feeling polite Xander said, “And I said waddle your fat ass over here and get it yourself.”
Morgrin’s face turned red and his eyes about bugged out of his head. “You don’t dare speak to me that way. I’ll bloody your nose, you runt.”
Grinning now, Xander hopped to his feet and started toward Morgrin, leaving the basket behind. If he could get the fat idiot to throw the first punch he’d be free to let him have it.
“Xander.” Gabriel’s voice held a warning in it that Xander had heard many times but seldom heeded.
When he stood a couple feet away Xander said, “Take your best shot.”
Morgrin drew back and let fly with a wild haymaker that Xander ducked under. The force of the blow spun Morgrin half way around. Xander darted in before the bigger boy got turned around. When Morgrin spun back Xander’s face was inches from his.
“Boo!” Xander said.
Morgrin staggered back, arms flailing for balance. Xander laughed.
“No one dares laugh at me!” Morgrin charged, arms flailing.
Xander waited until the last second, stepped left and stuck his right foot in Morgrin’s path. The bigger boy went sprawling. When Morgrin got to his feet his pants were torn, tears and snot ran down his face. He wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“I’ll tell father what you did.”
Xander laughed even harder. When he got himself under control he said. “You do that. Run back and tell your father you started a fight with someone half your size and couldn’t even lay a hand on him. I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”
Morgrin turned and ran, wailing, into the woods. Xander sighed. He hadn’t had that much fun in months.
“Happy now?” Gabriel asked.
“You better believe it.” Xander walked back to his spot and sat down.
“You know that boy could cause a lot of trouble for our family when he grows up and inherits Uncle Duncan’s lordship.”
“How do you figure that?”
“He could strip father of his knighthood out of spite for you humiliating him.”
Xander shook his head. “Don’t you read any of the books mother tells us to? He can’t strip Father of his title.”
“What do you mean? Uncle Duncan gave him the title. What would stop Morgrin from taking it away?”
Xander flicked his line out again. “Uncle Duncan didn’t grant Father his title; only the king can do that. The lesser nobles can make a recommendation, that’s all. Uncle Duncan recommended Father for the title and the king approved. At worst Morgrin could recommend the king strip Father of his knighthood and he’d never do that.”
“Why not?”
Xander helped himself to an apple from the basket off goodies. “Don’t you remember any history?”
Gabriel crossed his arms. “I can’t keep all that stuff straight, Xander, you know that.”
“Well if you could you’d know that only one knighthood has ever been revoked and the knight in question led an army on Crown City to overthrow the sitting king. Now, unless you imagine Father leading a military coup, I think he’s safe enough from a turd like Morgrin.”
“We’d better go after him anyway. If he got hurt Father would be furious.”
“I’m not going after him,” Xander ate a bite of his apple. “Let him wonder around the woods for a while. The gods know he could use the exercise. Maybe we’ll get lucky and a bear will eat him.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Fine, stay here. I’m going after him.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Xander watched Gabriel take off after Morgrin. It was amazing how messed up some people’s priorities were. He finished his apple and tossed the core into the woods.
* * *
Gabriel left his brother at the pond and took off after Morgrin at a brisk trot. That he would catch up to the boy wasn’t in question, Morgrin was in too poor a shape to get far ahead of him. The problem was he had no idea what he would say when he caught up to him.
The path connecting the pond and the estate was well worn after years of almost constant use so if Morgrin stayed on it he shouldn’t have any trouble getting back. He’d shadow the boy and make sure he didn’t run into any trouble then he’d wait for Xander at the edge of the forest. They could go in together.
A little ways ahead a crash echoed through the woods followed by muffled cursing. He sped up and came across Morgrin lying flat on his face, a spiked creeper vine wrapped around his leg. Gabriel shook his head. Just as well Xander didn’t come along. He’d laugh and there’d be another fight.
“Are you okay?”
Morgrin rolled over and yelped when the thorns dug into his leg.
“Hold still and I’ll cut you lose.” Gabriel drew his short hunting knife.
Morgrin froze, for once doing as he was told. Gabriel gripped the vine between the inch long spikes and sawed through it. He unwound the vine from Morgrin’s leg, careful not to push the thorns in a
ny deeper.
“There you are.” Gabriel got to his feet.
Morgrin got up. “Did you come to laugh at me?”
“No, I wanted to make sure you made it back safe.”
Morgrin snorted and started back down the path. “I’ll see to it your brother pays for humiliating me.”
“Couldn’t you let it go? No one got hurt after all.”
“No, once I tell father how your brother abused me he’ll insist Xander at least receive a beating.”
Gabriel tried another tactic. “Won’t it look bad if you say you got beaten up by my little brother?”
“I’ll say he attacked me from behind. Who do you think Father will believe, me, or your brother? It will be so delicious when he gets back and finds everyone waiting to punish him”
Gabriel shook his head again. It was going to be an ugly night for certain.
* * *
The sun hung low in the sky when Xander pulled his line from the pond for the final time. He’d caught six fat trout. Not a bad day’s work, if you could call lounging by the pond all day work. A quick look around revealed entirely too much equipment to carry back on his own. The shovel would have to stay.
He opened the lunch basket and found a strip of jerky and a roll. Xander tucked them into his belt pouch. He’d catch hell when he got home, probably get sent to bed without supper. He patted the pouch. A wise general plans ahead, or so the books on military strategy lining the walls in the library said.
The shovel he stuck behind a big spruce before gathering up the rest of the gear and starting for home. The walk back wasn’t near as pleasant loaded down as he was but he had to balance the load with Morgrin’s absence. Xander almost laughed again when he remembered the look on Morgrin’s face when he got up.
Xander reached the shed and put away everything but the snack basket and his catch then turned toward the main house. Father stood waiting on the front steps. Xander recognized the look on his face, time to pay the piper.
“Evening Father.”
“Xander, we need to talk.”
Xander swallowed. “Of course.”
He followed his father into the great room. A fire burned in the fireplace. One of the servants waited in the corner, Xander gave her his fish and the empty basket. Uncle Duncan and Morgrin sat on the couch near the fire. Gabriel leaned against the far wall. There was no sign of Mother and Aunt Jolie.
“Xander,” Father said. “Morgrin has accused you of attacking him from behind and insulting his honor. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Xander frowned. So the snot lied to everyone, no surprise there. “I never laid a hand on him. He attacked me and I tripped him in self-defense.”
“Liar!” Morgrin screamed.
A slow, evil smile spread across Xander’s face. “It seems there’s only one way to settle this. I challenge you to a duel. The winner’s words will be judged the truth in the eyes of the gods.”
Morgrin sneered. “I don’t have to answer a challenge from the likes of you.”
“Wrong,” Duncan said. “As the son of a knight Xander is of sufficient rank to challenge you. Of course you’re just boys so live blade is out of the question.”
“We have padded training blades,” Gabriel said.
“If you’re willing to admit you lied I’ll withdraw my challenge.” Xander said.
Morgrin looked around, desperate for an escape. Xander understood now why mother and Aunt Jolie weren’t here, no doubt the ladies wouldn’t approve of a fight. He watched Morgrin squirm. Xander knew he could beat him, Morgrin knew it too, the only question was if he would admit he lied now or after Xander beat him into the ground.
“Well, boy, what’s it to be?” Uncle Duncan asked.
Morgrin looked at Xander who cracked his knuckles and grinned. Morgrin paled. “I withdraw my accusation.”
“What?” Uncle Duncan said. “You’re admitting you lied to me? Speak up boy.”
“Yes, I lied.” Morgrin looked thoroughly miserable. Xander couldn’t have been more pleased.
Duncan nodded. “I thought as much. Get out of my sight. I’ll decide your punishment when we get home.”
Father put his hand Xander’s shoulder and he tensed, and then looked up. When he saw the smile he relaxed. “Gabriel told us what happened. Lord St. Jaques knew Morgrin had a habit of lying his way out of trouble.”
“So this was a test? For him or me?”
“For both of you. You passed, Morgrin didn’t.”
Chapter 4
Lord St. Jaques left the estate right after breakfast. Jeremiah would follow as soon as he could, prisoners in tow. He hated leaving again so soon after getting back, but duty didn’t allow for his personal preferences.
Before he left Lord St. Jaques made it clear that Jeremiah was to do whatever he deemed necessary to get to the bottom of the attack. He considered it a personal insult to have a caravan raided a few miles from his country estate.
Jeremiah stood up from behind the small desk in his study. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to say goodbye again and get the prisoners ready to march. It took half a day to reach the city so they should arrive well before dark despite the late start.
He entered the great room and started toward the stairs. Before he took a step up Alexandra appeared and hurried down to him. “I’ve figured out the language, dear.”
Jeremiah beamed; perhaps he’d make some progress after all. “You’ve deciphered it?”
“Oh heavens no,” she said. “The language is Torin and no one has used it in over a thousand years. There’s nothing in the library from that era we can use to translate it.”
“Oh,” Jeremiah’s smile faded.
“Don’t fret, I know someone that can help. My father used to work with a sage named Alzado. I’m sure he can translate this for you in a wink. He lives in the city so you can drop in on him while you’re there.”
“You mean you’re not going to give me a hard time about heading out again so soon?”
Alexandra frowned. “No, something about this mess bothers me. Where did a bunch of thugs learn to read an ancient language? There are maybe one hundred people in the kingdom that can read Torin. Whoever hired them must be rich and powerful enough to hire one of them. The sooner you figure out what’s happening the better I’ll feel.”
“I’ll see to it.” He accepted the scroll case from her.
* * *
Jeremiah and his men mustered in front of the barracks. He’d selected twenty men to escort the prisoners into the city. They’d loaded a wagon with all the merchandise they salvaged save the small chest. Burt sat on the bench, ready to drive it the final few miles to Lord’s Way.
Jeremiah smiled when he remembered Burt’s reaction to his suggestion he drive the wagon into the city. “Well, sir.” he’d said. “Seems only right I finish the job I started.” Indeed it was only right. It would also give Jeremiah a chance to talk to the drover about the woman that delivered the mysterious package to the caravan.
Alexandra appeared from the estate carrying a large basket. She reached inside and handed Jeremiah a ham and cheese sandwich. He leaned down and kissed her. She proceeded to hand out sandwiches to each of the men, including Burt, who ducked his and offered a shy smile.
The soldiers each accepted the treat with a smile and word of thanks. Jeremiah wasn’t certain when it happened, but Alexandra had adopted all the young men under his command, fussing over them when they were sick or hurt, scolding them like she did the boys, for their part the men doted on Alexandra like she was their own mother.
One of the bandits leered at her and before Jeremiah could speak one of his men punched the bandit in the face. “Mind your manners around the lady,” he said.
When everyone had enjoyed their lunch and Alexandra returned to the house Jeremiah said, “Let go.” He swung up into his saddle and they rode out.
About an hour into the trip Jeremiah eased his horse over beside Burt’s wagon. “How’s the tea
m behaving?”
Burt grinned. “Damn sight better than that mule I started this trip with.”
Jeremiah smiled back. He had taken a liking to the drover, rough manners and all. “What can you tell me about the Tristar Merchant Company?”
“Nothin’. The caravan master hired me and the other lads on his own. I never met the owners.”
“What about the woman that brought the chest? Did you know her?”
“No, sir, never seen her before. Why do you ask?”
“I’ll need to talk to her about the attack at some point. Can you describe her?”
“No problem there, she was a looker, long red hair, tall, big…” he held his hands out in front of his chest.
Jeremiah cleared his throat. “I get the idea.”
“Something strange though.” Burt got a faraway look in his eye. “She seemed kind of out of sorts, if you know what I mean?”
“No,” Jeremiah said. “I’m not certain I do.”
“Well, it’s hard to explain. Her hair was messed up and her clothes looked worn, kind of like she been running around in the woods, that’s what I thought anyway. But what would a pretty gal like that be doing running around the woods like a mountain man?”
What indeed? He’d have to ask her.
* * *
Eric paced in his office. The master had contacted him wanting information and Eric had none to offer. He’d sent the messenger bird three days ago and still no word from Kane. The demon was getting impatient and that wasn’t good for Eric’s health. He could think of few things he wanted less than in impatient demon breathing down his neck.
A knock sounded on his door. “What?”
The desk sergeant poked his head in. “Lord Knight Jeremiah Kane is here with prisoners. Where should I put them?”
Kane was here? “See if you can make room for them in block C, I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, sir.”
It seemed Jeremiah had dealt with the demon’s mercenaries after all. Eric left his office and worked his way through the processing room. What had Jeremiah learned? Probably nothing, but how to go about finding out for sure without tipping him off? Jeremiah wasn’t stupid wasn’t
