Legend of the Iron Flower Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Billy Wong

  Despite his misgivings, putting on the ceremonial officer's uniform brought a smile to his face. He was often told he looked handsome with his oval face and strong chin, and as he imagined himself a dashing adventurer, free and proud with not a care in the world, he did a mock thrust at his tall coat-rack. Doing so, he felt his shoulder-length blond hair blow in the draft from the window at just the right moment.

  He heard a knock on the door and said without a thought, "Come in." Elaine, his favorite of the maids, entered. The small, shy young woman, pretty in a childlike way and blond like Adam, held a plate of his favorite breakfast, scrambled eggs.

  She greeted him cheerfully as always. "Here you go, my lord. I made them myself." Adam took the food and curtsied to the girl. He ate the wonderful meal quickly, and handed the plate back to Elaine.

  "I believe the Heron estate owes this to you," he said as he put a coin on the plate, bringing a smile to the maid's face. His usual tip was actually a lot for him considering the meager spending money Robert gave, but he didn't mind.

  Adam liked the girl, with whom he had often played in their childhoods, and didn't have much he could spend his money on that Robert would approve of anyway. Still, it aggravated him that Elaine would never talk to him at length anymore. Sometimes he wondered why they couldn't just continue the way they had when they were little, but in truth, he knew why. Because his uncle would not stand for it.

  When he finished dressing, Adam went to the stables, where he was to get his horse ready by himself before meeting everyone at the fairgrounds outside town. He was glad to see his steed already groomed and dressed when he arrived, thanks to his waiting mentor. Sir Jacob Greyhunt, a towering redheaded and red-bearded knight of middle years, sat on his own charger next to Adam's handsome gelding, and gave his usual greeting.

  "Just battle is at hand! Will you join me?"

  It was an old joke between them, stemming from the first time Adam could recall talking to the man. A young boy, he had seen Jacob walking with an axe towards the woods and asked, "Are you going to fight evil?"

  The knight had replied excitedly, "Just battle is at hand! Will you join me?" Of course, Adam was thrilled to join the ranks of the heroes of his favorite stories, and accepted eagerly. He wound up watching Jacob chop firewood, and when Adam asked why he did that when they had servants to do it for them, the knight said, "A man who relies too long on others to do everything he needs done will be unpleased when, alone, he finds he has forgotten how to do what he needs."

  Since then, the accomplished knight had been a mentor to Adam, who took it upon himself to learn all the skills he would need to survive by himself in the world. They had become even closer since Adam's father died. Not only did Jacob instruct Adam on topics ranging from fighting to fishing, but the two spent much of their free time together, just talking. A favorite topic of Adam's involved the knight's travels, all the strange places he'd been and people he'd met. He wanted to accompany Jacob on his journeys, but his uncle wouldn't have any of it, so Adam could only keep dreaming about what was out there. He sometimes thought of running away to experience the wonders of the outside world, but he knew he wasn't quite ready for that. So he stayed and continued to hone his skills.

  The two men rode from the stables. The sun shone brightly, but an ominous feeling pricked at Adam's mind and he kept his eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. They found it on the side of the road leading out of town, a shattered wagon wrapped around the trunk of an elm. The driver's body jutted brokenly out of the wreckage, and one of the horses lay piteously, alive but broken-legged, still tied to the vehicle.

  A thick trail of blood led from where the other horse should have been, indicating the animal was badly wounded and probably would not survive for long. The wagon's cargo, which consisted of assorted parchments, small statues, and pottery, lay spilled all around the wreck. Surprisingly, a few small containers seemed still intact.

  The two men dismounted to look for survivors, though Adam expected to find none. Shifting through the rubble, they found another body, this one mangled even worse than the driver's. They had all but given up hope of finding anyone alive when they heard a groan from the bushes nearby.

  Adam was excited about finding a survivor, but dreaded the possibility he would only witness a maimed person's last agonizing moments. "Go check on them," he said to Jacob. "I'll see if there's any medical supplies in here." He opened one of the surprisingly heavy little containers he saw intact, hoping to find salve. Empty, he saw, and threw it away. He picked up another and began to open it.

  Jacob interrupted his inspection of the wreckage. "Come here." Steeling himself, Adam went to his friend. "He's alive, and I think he'll be alright. He's out cold, but doesn't look too wounded—seems he just got a knock on the head." The unconscious man was young, of medium height and build, and dressed in a practical explorer's outfit.

  Adam frowned. "I wonder what happened. I guess we'll have to wait for him to wake up to find out." He put the lid back on the container he held, then helped Jacob put the man on his horse. The knight slit the doomed horse's throat, and they carried the injured man back to the manor.

  #

  Derrick awoke with a pounding headache and parched throat, and forced sticky eyes open to find himself in a well-furnished bedroom. A pretty blonde stood over him, tending a cut on his head. "Oh, hi. Where am I?"

  The girl smiled. "I'm glad you woke up. Sir Jacob said you'd be fine, but I was still worried. You were so still. Don't worry, you're safe here in the Heron estate. My name's Elaine."

  "Derrick." He only then remembered the crash. "Where are the others? Are they all right?"

  "They said only you survived. Sorry." He hadn't known either of his companions well, as they had just recently met, but Derrick's heart tightened to think of the two young, strong men's lives cut so short. His head spun, and he closed his eyes. "It's okay. Rest, you'll be better." Her voice soothed him, and he did as told.

  He woke a bit later to find a young, also blond man sitting over him. "Where's your sister?" he blurted out before thinking, and the man smiled.

  "Sister? You mean my maid Elaine?"

  At that, Derrick realized who he was talking to. "Lord Adam Heron, right? Robert's nephew?" The man—Adam–nodded and offered his hand. Derrick shook it, though not as firmly as he would have liked.

  Adam looked at his guest with concern. "Whatever happened to you? That was a hellish wagon wreck if I ever saw one. I'm surprised you're alive."

  He shook his head. "I jumped out, right before the wagon went over on its side. I'm not completely sure what happened—I was in the back—but I think we were attacked. I heard our driver Ron yell for help, and then we were careening out of control."

  "Attacked, yes. We found your other horse in the woods with a javelin in its back. Do you know who would want to harm you?"

  Derrick didn't. He realized that Rose and Finn, being the reputable warriors they were, likely had dozens of enemies out there if not more. Some of the other men, like Jack, had also led dangerous lives. And any of them could have somebody who wanted them dead for reasons good or poor, even Derrick himself. "I have no idea."

  Adam put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. We will find whoever did this, and bring him to justice."

  His voice was clear and sure, and Derrick felt fortunate to be in his care. "Thank you for helping me." But he hoped he wouldn't require it for long. The Archivists needed him back.

  #

  "What do you mean it didn't get there yet? We had three of our best men on it!" Finn yelled at the messenger from Lord Heron as the Archivists looked on. The big man, their de facto leader now that Rose had stormed off upon hearing their wagon had gone missing, felt considerably annoyed after being woken up an hour early. After all, the wagon should have gotten there last night!

  "Well, it wasn't there when I left. Maybe it's there now? Anyway, I'm only a messenger." He paused as they looked at each other.

  "Maybe o
ne of the horses died?" Finn said with a thoughtful frown that might just also be scary. "So, what exactly were you supposed to do here?"

  The man's fingers twitched restlessly. "Uh . . . deliver the message."

  "Well you did that, didn't you? I'm sure Rose will get things sorted out. She's the kind of girl who'll drag that wagon herself if she has to—not that she won't make the men help, of course." The messenger nodded and left, and Finn addressed the Archivists still standing around. "Let's get to work already! There's nothing to be gained from standing around gawking!"

  #

  Adam enjoyed nearly an hour's conversation with the well-traveled Derrick. He learned the scholar had met Rose and Finn after seeing her drag a bear's corpse (that she'd killed with her bare hands) into town while nearly naked at Finn's insistence. Derrick had begged them to let him join them and Rose refused at first, citing his lack of skill. Eventually, Finn invited him to join the expectedly less dangerous mission of the Archivists. Adam wanted him to share more, but had other business to attend to.

  He left Derrick in Elaine's care and returned to the crash site with Jacob. His uncle would surely be angered by his absence, but there was a crime to be solved and a heinous murder at that. They could keep the killer from taking the lives of any more hapless travelers, and even Robert could appreciate that.

  Besides, they had brought a few soldiers to keep anyone from stealing from the wreck, and his uncle would certainly acknowledge the wisdom of saving wealth. Looking again upon the grim scene, Adam asked, "Jacob, what do you think? Bandits?"

  "No, I don't think so. Whoever did this attacked without warning and had no qualms about destroying whatever was on the wagons. Look how little is missing. They took the crew's coins, but it seems all the cargo is still here. Bandits would take whatever they could. It could be a very small group of robbers, but I doubt it.

  "No, I think it was a ruthless enemy of the crew or owner of the vehicle, or worse, someone who simply enjoys the thrill of killing—a human monster who relishes blood. Either way, we must be cautious. Such a person is never to be taken lightly. Come, let us look around for tracks." Soon, they found the broken branches and trampled underbrush indicative of movement through the forest. Jacob frowned. "Here they are. Stay behind me, Adam, and be careful. We could be walking into a trap."

  He didn't need to be told twice, and took his position as they followed the trail of destruction, weapons at the ready.

  #

  Rose took in the carnage of the wagon crash and paled. She could tell it'd been a bad wreck, and doubted anyone had survived. Local soldiers milled about, guarding what was left of the cargo until someone came to pick it up. They gave her a little trouble until she told them who she was, and convinced them of it by bending one of the wagon axles in a demonstration of her fabled strength. She came closer, and rolled the body sticking out of the wreckage over. Ron. The man's neck and back were broken, and his skull crushed. At least he hadn't suffered long.

  She turned away from the grisly sight, to the even grislier one of the corpse in the rubble. It was mangled beyond recognition, but had about the same build as Derrick, and she thought for a moment it might be him. But he was wearing Jack's clothes, which didn't make sense. Rose decided to look for the birthmark on Derrick's neck, and lifted the man's hair though it revolted her to study the torn flesh. No birthmark. She walked around some more, looking for Jack and Derrick, and found no sign of either.

  Had they been kidnapped? Derrick's family was fairly well to do, but what would kidnappers want with Jack? Did they expect her to pay his ransom? The only metal whoever did this could expect from Rose was the steel of her sword. But first, she had to find them. She hurried off, searching for tracks.

  #

  As the wagon rolled along, Jack had grown to realize just how bored he felt. He was the best fighter from his province, and had joined the Archivists to seek perils that would test the limits of his skills, not tediously walk around empty ruins from a civilization long dead. His life had turned into a dead end. But now he had changed that in one fell swoop, a perfect javelin toss which put him on a straight path to his destiny.

  He felt glad to have tried what he did, because if he hadn't, he wouldn't have known he could really do it. Now that Rose and Finn were certainly looking for him, and maybe Lord Heron's soldiers as well, he'd soon know just how good he really was. Sitting on the wide rock, Jack grinned.

  He knew he wouldn't be killed by his new enemies; he was not only too strong, but too smart for them, and had prepared just the thing to save himself from a tight spot. He heard footsteps now, and his smile grew as he raised his javelin and prepared to deliver a lethal strike.

  #

  "Look out!" Jacob shouted as the missile flew. The javelin glanced off his shield, and he and Adam stepped into the clearing to see a burly bald warrior seated on a boulder, smiling.

  The man whistled while he stood and calmly drew his axe. "Your faces are unfamiliar, but I see you are dressed in the manner of nobility. Are you here to arrest me, then?" His tone of contempt made Adam's blood boil. "I suppose this will be an entertaining appetizer before my main course."

  Jacob leveled his spear, voice taut with anger. "It amazes me that you would dare to call Jacob Greyhunt a mere distraction! May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, oh great warrior?"

  He sighed as with boredom. "If you must, I am Jack—no, I need a name worthy of my legend. I am, um, er, Red Jack, and soon I will be able to call myself the Flowerpicker!"

  Flowerpicker? Adam understood not the significance of the title, and Jack gave him little time to figure it out. The warrior charged.

  Jacob thrust his spear, but with shocking speed Jack slipped past it. The knight caught an axe blow on his shield, which broke on impact. Adam stabbed at Jack from the side, but he dodged and landed a hard kick to Adam's belly which knocked him to the ground stunned and breathless. Jacob was forced to step back to get outside the reach of Jack's axe, but the axeman lopped the head off his spear as it passed.

  Jacob adjusted his grip to use the spearshaft like a quarterstaff, but his opponent chopped the stick in half and in the same blow cut him down the chest. As the knight stumbled back, Jack saw Adam struggling to rise and brought the axe down.

  Adam's heart skipped a beat as he barely parried. The axeman smirked, kicked him to the ground again, and raised the axe high. Jacob drew his sword and charged. Red Jack danced away, laughing joyously as the blade sliced through empty air where he had been a quarter-second ago. "I feel more exhilarated than I have in ages! Thank you for entertaining me, but I fear I shall have to end this soon!"

  Disdain rose within Adam at Jack's arrogance. If only the man wasn't so damn fast! Jack came at Jacob full force now, and the tall knight barely deflected lightning blows away from his body. The axe scored a deep cut on his leg, and he fell bleeding. As the axe glinted over his head, the doomed knight shot a look at Adam begging him to run.

  But Jacob's time to die was not now, as Adam, face bloody and furious, threw himself shoulder-first into Jack's midsection and knocked him to the ground. The axe swept down, but instead of splitting Jacob's head only grazed Adam over his ribs. Still it was Adam who favored a new wound while Red Jack bounced to his feet, laughing still.

  "Spirited boy, aren't you? Admirable. You're giving me more fun than I expected, but it's time for this to end." He swung at Adam, who parried, but an expert twist of the axe hooked the sword and wrenched it from his hand. Adam tripped as he tried to back away, and closed his eyes from his doom.

  But then he heard, "Run, Adam!" He opened his eyes to see Jacob had put Red Jack in a bearhug, pinning his arms, and pushed him towards the woods away from Adam. Jack fought with knees and headbutts to escape, more desperately than one would have expected against a simple push, but Jacob hung on with equal resolve. Finally, as they reached the edge of the clearing, the knight could hold on no longer, but gave the axeman a last shove away from himself.

&nbs
p; Jack stumbled into a patch of thick underbrush, despair filling his eyes for an instant before a cluster of sharpened sticks shot out from among the bushes and impaled him through the legs and torso. He screamed longer and louder than Adam thought possible, but at last his voice gave out and he stood dead in his own trap.

  Jacob stared wide-eyed at the corpse. "I only meant to push him as far from you as possible, to give you time to run. How divinely lucky we were that he happened to spring his own trap—otherwise, I don't know if either of us would be alive. Gods, he was one of the best I've seen, and yet, what a madman he was! To think of how many more he could have killed before he was stopped... truly, the gods blessed us today, Adam."

  Covering the hideous corpse with a blanket they found nearby, the two sat to bind their wounds. So shaken were they that when they heard approaching footsteps, they immediately picked up their weapons and turned.

  A scarred young woman stepped into view, as tall and thick as most strong men, and holding a sword larger than any Adam had seen in one hand. She looked angry and more than ready for a fight, and with that sword she waved around lightly as a ruler had the reach on either of them. But as Adam began his mental prayers for more luck, the mammoth blade dipped, and the girl seemed to relax.

  "You must be Sir Jacob Greyhunt," she concluded happily as she recognized his hawk surcoat, "'tall and strong as a sturdy oak,' right? Your deeds of valor are an inspiration... always wanted to meet you in person. Who's your companion?"

  Adam bowed to the lady. "Adam Heron, nephew of Lord Robert. And you?"

  She returned Adam's grin. "Rose Agen, called the Iron Flower by the small handful of bards who know me."

  Oh. What had Jack said? Flowerpicker. She extended her hand to Jacob first, and though most men found his handshake akin to a crushing vise, Adam noted that this time it was the tall knight who wound up flexing sore fingers. Fortunately, she was much more gentle with him, though he still got a sense of her incredible strength from the hard, callused hand, its slightest squeeze hinting at vast power.