by Billy Wong
"Yeah, the criminal."
"You're so brave."
She supposed she was. But she understood that part of why that was, was because with her skills and strength she could afford to be. She was no self-sacrificing paragon of good who would throw her life away to send some message about virtue and right, she didn't think.
And she supposed she wouldn't want to be one, anyway. There was a difference between being a good person—and being a stupid one. She smiled, and said in a voice ragged with pain, "I wish more people were, too."
"You're hurt," an older woman observed. "Do you need some help?"
"Not right now, no. I wouldn't want Count Lennox to blame you for helping me, after all."
"He would anyway."
"And that's why I'm going to stop him."
One burly young man said, as several companions egged him on, "I'd like to help."
Rose studied his grim face as she considered the offer. She could barely stand with the pain, and could probably use some aid. But she had seen how untrained people generally faired in combat with competent warriors. "I don't need your help. You'd only get in the way."
He gave a determined shake of his head. "You've done a great deal for us in fighting against him, and we're very grateful, but if we don't start standing up for ourselves, where will we be even if you do defeat Lennox? We'll still be weak and vulnerable to whoever else tries to take his place, and we can't rely on you all the time."
No, they couldn't. Rose was still afraid for their safety, but decided to take a chance and sighed. "All right, whoever wants to come with me can. But you've got to listen to me carefully. Stick to ranged attacks, and obey without question whatever I say."
She couldn't help a sense of relief when more than a handful of young men shouted their assent, no doubt encouraged by her defeat of the evil lord, and a few older men and one young woman as well. "So who are the best shots here?" she asked in an increasingly hopeful tone. There was going to be a use for those eight bodyguards' crossbows yet!
#
They followed Lennox's trail of blood into the forest in a hurry, Rose fearful they wouldn't be able to catch him before he reached his stronghold. He normally kept fifty soldiers at his fort and would now have forty-two, a few less if he hadn't replaced the ones she'd killed earlier. Still too much, especially considering her allies. She hoped they would find him dead at the end of his trail, succumbed to his injury.
Lennox was not dead when Rose finally spotted him, only a few miles from his estate, but seemed greatly weakened and barely able to continue walking. Eight peasant-held crossbows and a few other throwing weapons were leveled at his hunched back, and Rose said, "You're finished, Lennox. There's nowhere for you to run."
He stopped and turned to regard her with slitted eyes. "How the hell are you moving?"
"I can take a lot of pain. Though I'm nearly at the end of my strength, but I only need enough to finish you."
"You won't kill me."
"No?"
"No," he said, raising his arms. "I surrender."
Was that it?! She thought she could kill him anyway, that she could strike him down in cold blood while he refused to defend himself. She raised her sword, and tried to step forward and strike. But she couldn't do it. It would have been so easy to murder him for all his evil deeds. She was just too weak. He grinned slightly, as if in triumph for judging her correctly.
"Kill him," someone said, and Rose let it be. It felt wrong to kill a helpless foe, but in this case she knew it had to be done. If they let him go, nothing would change.
The first one to fire was the lone girl, whose mother had been raped and killed by a bored soldier of Lennox's during a visit to her cousin in a neighboring town. The bolt pierced the count's shoulder, turning his smile into a grimace of pain. Her father shot next and missed, the bolt thunking into the ground a few feet behind. Lennox charged, and more shafts flew.
One of them slammed into his forearm, probably breaking bone, but he kept coming. Then another crashed into his thigh. He collapsed to one knee and growled, "Traitorous fools. None of this would have ever been, if you'd known your place." With that, he stood and kept on coming.
The villagers had exhausted their first volley, the rest of the bolts having missed their target. Lennox drew his dagger, stomping straight towards Rose with his last burst of strength. Her sword flicked out, ripping the blade from his hand. Then she sliced high, and his face was missing a jaw. He crashed down like a hewn tree.
"We're free!" the female villager said as Rose turned away from the body. "Thank you, warrior lady."
Rose nodded absently. Lennox had been evil, and she didn't feel bad for his death. But it pained her to see that even people she'd thought innocent could be capable of the bloodlust she had just seen. It was not a pleasant sight. The pain in her abdomen now nearly too much to bear, Rose leaned heavily on two of the larger peasants as they led her away.
#
Somebody had to go to Gustrone and deal with the fallout of Lennox's death, and the villagers looked to Rose as the obvious choice. But she was afraid of facing her responsibility for the deed, worried she would be punished, executed. He'd been a foul beast, but also a nobleman of Kayland. So she stayed in bed, insisting her wounds had not healed enough to allow her to rise. It was almost true; pain and blood loss made her dizzy. But Lennox's death did not end Nienne's problems, as his lieutenant Drayton quickly took his place.
Seizing control over Lennox's estate, Drayton hired mercenaries to reinforce his troops. Word soon came that he would send the combined force to Jaid, seeking revenge and to make an example out of his master's killers. Despite her unhealed abdominal wound, Rose forced herself out of bed to address everyone in the town square, shaking with fear as she looked around at their grim faces. She thought back to the bandits' massacre of her comrades in RIEL. Once again she had brought greater danger upon those she tried to help, from which it was up to her to save them. Could she, this time?
At this point, she didn't think they could win a direct conflict. "We've got to flee, and preserve our lives. Maybe if we get help later, we can bring Drayton down, but for now-"
"Some hero you are!" an angry-looking youth shouted. "You thought you could help us, and now look what's happened! Things are worse than they've ever been!"
"You swapped one tyrant for another, angrier one!" a slender, middle-aged woman added.
"You're a fool, who's done us no good!" an old man yelled. "We don't want to lose our homes!"
A little boy pointed at her and said, "You failed."
"Y-you were with me the other day," Rose said. They'd certainly turned on her fast.
"We?" the first young man demanded. "There were just a few fools who chose to follow you, impressed as they were by your strength. But no matter how much your strength, it will not suffice against the power of the county's rule."
"I know that, I always did. That's why you need to fight, now. You need to find allies among your neighbors, and when there's enough of us, we'll take them down..." The words rang hollow in Rose's ears. The villagers could win, if they were unified and adequately trained. It was a matter of getting there that was the problem, and she wasn't sure they had the ability to do it. Certainly, Rose wasn't an experienced leader in anything. For once, she wished she had gotten the chance to be a captain in RIEL. The knowledge might have helped now.
"They'd slaughter us like dogs," a young woman said. "We're not warriors, and those mercenaries are bloodthirsty demons. You're a mercenary, aren't you?"
Rose averted her eyes. "No, not anymore."
"Maybe we should just hand you over," one heavyset man suggested, "and beg Drayton to let us off easy. Who knows, maybe he'll just take half what we produce, like Lennox did last year."
Her hand went to her sword. "I'm not ready to die."
Not everyone followed her would-be captor as he began forward, but too many did. Rose steeled herself. She might not die—she had learned herself to be qu
ite incredibly adept at escaping death—but she'd have to kill to avoid it, if this didn't stop. "Please stand back. I tried to help you, damn it!"
One woman came to her defense, saying, "Leave her alone! She's done nothing wrong," and a few others voiced their agreement.
The heavyset man slowed, to her relief. "I suppose you tried. Get out of here, and maybe we can lie our way out of this mess, let you take all the blame."
"Get out of here? Where's your will to fight, for freedom?"
"Freedom's too hard to gain, and it'd be a hell of a foolish thing to lose our lives trying."
Rose sighed. There was some merit to that, if she didn't agree. "You came so close. Why give up now?"
"Because we lost."
"We didn't lose. We won the battle, and now we face a war. But that doesn't mean we can't still win it."
"How would we do that?"
She didn't know yet. "You win. I'll leave, and you do what you must to survive. But I'll be back with help, I promise, and you will be free."
An angry cacophony of voices filled the air in response, and Rose walked through the crowd with her head bowed in shame, absorbing her share of angry blows as she retreated from town.
#
She didn't forget her promise, though, and her need to save the people of Nienne from the predicament she had created overrode her fears of punishment as she headed back to Gustrone. If King Benedict did decide to hold her accountable for a crime, she would just try to run away, trusting in her own abilities to see her through. It was a risk she had to take.
Savvier now to the workings of the morning line, Rose slept from sundown to several hours before sunrise, and took up her wait before the castle in the wee hours of the morn. Thus she was able to gain early access to an audience with the king. She only hoped he was a morning person. When her turn came, she found herself merely looking at him, unable to speak.
"What is the matter?" Benedict asked.
"Your Majesty, I-I killed him. Lennox, that is. He was abusing his subjects terribly, and I just couldn't stand it. So I confronted him, and..."
He glared at her. For all her size, and though he was seated, he seemed to tower over her with his presence. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
She forced herself not to whither under his gaze. "I-I killed a man." She paused, and said terrible words she nonetheless knew to be the truth. "But I've killed many men, and he was no better than any of them. He was worse than most."
Somewhat to her surprise, he didn't order her captured and executed then and there. "If he was as evil as you said, and I have seen that he was no perfect ruler, then maybe the world is better off without him. But in removing him, you also throw the government of Nienne into perilous instability."
"Yes, that's what I came to talk to you about. Lennox's underling Drayton has taken over his forces, and now seeks to punish his subjects for their rebelliousness—and for my deeds. So I came here on their behalf, to ask that you help them. Drayton's hired a great many mercenaries to his aid, and I can't take them all alone."
"So you caused this trouble, and now you want me to fix it."
"Yes... I'm sorry."
"No."
No? From all she'd see of him so far, he was a reasonable man. So why wouldn't he give his subjects the aid they needed? Why would he allow an unauthorized usurper to take control of a land under his rule? "What are you saying? They need you."
"You didn't wait. I told you I would deal with the matter of Count Lennox, but no, you had to go and kill him. So why don't you take responsibility for what you've done, and handle the matter in your own way?"
She wished she could, actually. Coming here wouldn't have been her first choice, if she could've helped it. "This isn't about me! I'm just a... a silly girl who thought she could make a difference. You're the king, and Nienne's part of your kingdom! You've got to do something; you wouldn't let Drayton stay in power forever, would you?"
"If he did a good job, I would consider it. If it works, why waste it? So far, I've only your reports to judge him by, and they're not encouraging. But we'll see in time."
So that was why. He wanted to allow local conflicts to resolve themselves locally, if at all possible. It did make some political sense—Kayland was a huge nation, formerly comprised of a number of peoples and states, and for the central government to intervene too much could cause unnecessary tension. Except, people were suffering for this inaction. "Won't you reconsider? Terrible things are happening."
"Your word's not enough for me to believe that completely, yet." But his eyes showed he did not dismiss it offhand, either, and he added, "I'll send someone to Nienne to check things out. As for you, I don't know what to do. You killed my vassal, but it sounds like your intentions were only of the best kind. I don't know if I should reward you or execute you."
Rose chuckled, to her own surprise. "You'd be one of the few. Most people know exactly how they feel about me."
"I do too. I like you. But you put me in an awkward position. A peasant's not supposed to get away with murdering a lord."
"Should a lord get away with murdering a peasant?"
"No, I wouldn't think so. Was Lennox so bad?"
He trusted her, she realized. At least, to some extent. "Yes, I swear it."
He did not reply, and Rose grew more nervous until she found herself breaking the silence. "Can't you please do something more than check on Nienne? I swear to you that Drayton is every bit as bad as I say."
"I can't commit troops against my own people, on the suspicion they might be evil. I've no choice but to check first; even kings have responsibilities."
Of course. It was a good thing he remembered that. "All right. Thank you for listening." Halfway out of the throne room, she looked back and winked. "I guess I'll have to do this myself after all, huh?"
He shook his head, sadness in his eyes, and she realized things were not going to go as smoothly as she had convinced herself they would. "Arrest her," Benedict said, and within moments Rose found herself surrounded by the leveled weapons of the guards. She hadn't noticed how the king might have signaled to them, but they must have been preparing for this as they spoke. "Sorry, but as I said kings too have responsibilities. I like you, but I can't just let you get away with killing one of my nobles."
Rose considered trying to fight her way out of her predicament, but quickly realized that was not an option. As disadvantaged as she was, she would probably be killed—and even if she could escape, she did not want to harm the innocent guards. She dropped her weapons, raising her hands in surrender.
"What will you do to me?" she asked, terrified her young life would soon end.
Benedict let his gaze rest on her for a while, and her pulse grew faster and faster as she waited. Or maybe she would merely be imprisoned, and wind up wasting away in the darkness. What would her parents think? She knew that Lennox had been evil, and did not regret killing him. But she wished she hadn't had to sacrifice herself to do it, especially when it seemed that it would not help the villagers of Nienne in the long run anyway.
"I haven't decided yet," Benedict finally said. "But you seem like a person with only good intentions. I hope I can afford to be lenient. Take her away."
#
Rose was escorted at spearpoint into the bowels of the castle, where she was led into a small, damp cell which smelled of sickness and old death. A tiny window gave the room its only light, barely more than enough to illuminate a tiny patch of dirty floor. And here, she had thought Benedict liked her. On second thought, she had been given her own cell, and she could at least be thankful for that. She wouldn't have enjoyed being forced to share a cell with male criminals who missed the company of womankind... Rose walked to the narrow cot in the corner, and laid down under the weight of her misery.
The guards did not mistreat Rose and brought her surprisingly sufficient food and drink, though it was of course bland prison fare. But neither did they give her anything with which to pass her time, and s
he spent most of the next week lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling as she pondered the decision which had led her here. She dreaded the thought she might be stuck here for the rest of her life, but more immediate was her regret that it might all have been for nothing. It pained her that the people she had tried to help were suffering even more for her aid. She had to get out of here, she decided, and finish what she'd started.
She had only begun considering possible methods of escape, however, when one afternoon the door of her cell swung open. Waiting for her outside were several guards. Had her fate been decided? Maybe they were here to transfer her to another prison, or maybe she was to executed after all. But she could see that she might not have a better chance to make a bid for freedom. Her muscles tensed as she watched for her opening.
To her complete surprise, a stocky, middle-aged guard with a square jaw handed her a bundle of items. It took her a moment to realize it was her gear, including her weapons and armor. "You're free to go," he said without emotion.
Too shocked and relieved to even ask why, Rose took her things and walked up the stairs he indicated. Why had she been set free? She was so glad she wouldn't have to defy the king. It would not have pleased her to become a fugitive.
She climbed the rough stairs up from the dungeons into the jail clerk's office. Her eyes widened when she saw who stood awaiting her, arms crossed over a massive chest. "Alicia! What are you doing here?"
The big woman smirked, then broke into a cocky grin. "What else, but saving your silly ass?"
Rose stared as she realized what Alicia had done. "You got me released? How? I murdered a lord!"
That self-satisfied grin never wavered. "Let's just say the king owes me a favor or two. Don't do it again, though. It was enough of a nuisance coming here to get you."
"Thank you. I'm grateful you cared enough to come."
Alicia laughed. "It would've been unjust for you to suffer for doing as brave—if stupid—a thing as you did. You want to come back to the Blood Vines now? It's been a while; I'm sure I can convince Michael."
"No, I'd rather not. I'm not suited to your life, and I've still got unfinished business elsewhere."
