by Brandon Barr
“That’s a spyglass,” declared Payetta, having seen a picture of one in an old book. “The lucky old toads. What ruins did they find that at?”
Justen shrugged. “Lots of buried towns and cities beyond our valley from what I hear. Makes me wonder what other treasures might be buried out there.”
Payetta looked over the object with envy. She and Justen regularly dug around the old structures for ancient trinkets—anything that might be useful or shed light on the mysterious past and whatever catastrophic event had wiped out the marvelous civilization that was now buried and demolished.
They had only explored bits and pieces of the ruins littering the Meadowlands and the surrounding woods. She and Justen had never found anything so beautifully preserved as what these men had in their possession. Such a valuable item the spyglass was.
Justen looked through one end. “You could see the other side of the Meadow with this.” He placed the spyglass back into the raider’s pack. “Let’s bury the other three bodies and go. We’re going to be late to the meeting if we don’t hurry.”
Payetta strolled up to Justen and rubbed a finger across his face. “Let them wait.”
She retrieved the spyglass and took a look. She found her expectations slightly disappointed. She’d seen through the eyes of almost every type of animal in the forest and this spyglass was little better than the eagles, kites, and kestrels that she frequently used as spies.
With a shrug she placed it back in the pack at Justen’s feet.
“We’re the ones who called the meeting,” reminded Justen. “We should get going.”
Payetta snorted. “Come on, dear, it’s the Heroes Brigade. If we’re not late, we’ll just be waiting for everyone else who is.”
***
Justen watched as the last man joined them at the large square table in Old Ferren’s cottage. The only man missing was Old Ferren himself, but his wife had been kind enough to let them all in despite her feelings about her husband’s participation in the Heroes Brigade. Apparently, according to her, Old Ferren neglected a number of household projects due to his “running all about the woods with his friends pretending things.”
If Payetta was the leader and founder of the North Meadow Volunteer Heroes Brigade, Ferren was the crotchety old granddad and shared second in command with Justen. And for Justen’s part, he was partially glad Old Ferren wasn’t there. As much as he liked Ferren, the man had a way of bringing out the wildest side of his wife.
Old Ferren and Payetta were like two wild dogs, one was always nipping the other’s tail, but it was Ferren who always got the worst of it. When Payetta wanted to beat someone up with her tongue, there was no one she loved to smack around more than the old man.
And despite the tongue lashing, Ferren seemed to enjoy it all.
Around the table with Justen and Payetta sat seven other Heroes Brigade members. Kirk, Jax, Brodie, Ian, Dane, Flinn, and Kinwick. The best showing yet with only Old Ferren missing.
Justen rapped his fist on the table to quiet the conversations that echoed in the little room.
“We have big news,” announced Justen. “The North Meadow Volunteer Heroes Brigade has struck again.”
The room went silent.
“Payetta and I ran across five of Titannus’s men in the woods outside of South Meadow. I’m happy to report, none survived the encounter.”
All heads turned to Payetta, each with an eyebrow peaked in admiration.
“Damn,” said Jax. “Wish I could have been there.”
“It wasn’t all me,” declared Payetta. “Justen killed three of the ugly brutes. I only nabbed two of them. Of course, I did bite the dick off of one with a badger.”
Justen eyed his wife suspiciously. Whenever she was with the guys from the Heroes Brigade, her entire tone and demeanor changed. He’d long ago given up curtailing her crude humor and language. He tried not to laugh, but it was hard sometimes.
“The details,” pressed Kirk. “What happened?”
Payetta glanced sideways at Justen, an impish gleam in her eyes. “One of them had a chin as big and saggy as Old Ferren’s ass.”
Justen chuckled along with the rest of the men, then composed himself. “She’s right about that. It was an alarmingly butt-like chin.”
Justen sat back as Payetta recounted the entire story, turning a very serious encounter into a comedy with a lavish amount of rhetorical flourish.
The entire brigade winced and groaned in nervous laughter when she recounted the part about the badger and the man who’d dropped his trousers. Kinwick snorted water out his nose at the part when She Grunts sprang into action and dusted a raider in the face.
“Basically,” finished Payetta, “we kicked some major ass. Then Justen gave me a personal mud bath down at the river. You know,” she winked, “to get the stench off. He’s such a gentleman.”
Justen shook his head and tried to keep any red from showing on his cheeks. He really wished she could take things more seriously once in awhile. But that was his wife, and no day with her would ever be boring or tedious. He loved her without reservation, domineering personality and all. He knew the woman beneath the armored exterior. She hid a bruised and beaten heart behind wit and snark. There was a soft young woman inside, but when she got angry, there was nowhere in the Meadowlands to hide from her fury.
If he’d have known all this four years ago, he might have never married himself to her. That would have been a mistake. He needed her. And she needed him.
“Now that you have the whole story,” began Justen. “Or maybe a little too much of the story—”
Brodie called out, “We liked the mud bath part, Justen.”
“Especially watching your face turn red,” grinned Ian.
Justen nodded, his cheeks tingling slightly again. “Okay, story time with Payetta is over. We have something serious to discuss, and that is—what are we going to tell Mayor Brundig?”
Jax leaned forward. “What did you find on the bodies?”
Reaching beneath the table, Justen pulled out a sack and placed the contents on the table. It was everything he’d found on the men besides the clothes on their backs. Weapons, food, tinder, the ancient spyglass, two shovels, blankets, and enough bread and dried meat to last the men a week.
“When was the last time more than two of Titannus’s men came to the Meadowlands?” asked Justen rhetorically. “Over two years ago. They stole some livestock and we caught them halfway up the mountain and got our stuff back. Other than that, they seem to come by themselves or in pairs. We can’t really know if Titannus is sending them, or if they’re just going out on their own to rape and steal. But this time is different.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Jax. “Spies.”
Justen was about to answer in the affirmative when Payetta cut in, “Why wouldn’t we think that?” she snapped. “Look at what’s on the table. This wasn’t a camping trip.”
“That’s what I was saying,” replied Jax calmly. “Maybe they’re staking the place out. Maybe they’re planning something bigger, like they did in your old community.”
A silence descended on the room.
“We can’t know for sure,” began Justen, “but it doesn’t look good. They came here to gather information. What they are planning to do, we can only guess.”
Ian drummed his fingers on the table. “So we tell Mayor Brundig and hope for him to do what? Send men to help us patrol?”
Payetta reached out and took one of the dead men’s swords and glared at it. “We tell him this is the beginning of something bigger. We tell him that if he doesn’t prepare the Meadowlands, then any death and destruction is on his damned head.”
Justen winced at his wife’s sharp tone, but Payetta was right. Something serious needed to be done. “We know so little about Titannus and how many men he has. We know even less about his master Zarith Smith. All the old mountain communities are gone. There’s nothing between us and him but two tall peaks and a lot of trees
and rock. I know we all fear what may come. We’ve been expecting it. One day he’s going to surprise us, and all he needs is forty or fifty trained men to take out a huge swath of North or South Meadow. Mayor Brundig needs to realize this.”
Payetta stood, her chair legs scraping on the stone floor. “Let’s get this over with.”
Justen eyed his wife and nodded. “Let me do the talking this time,” he replied firmly. On this point, he was ready to butt heads.
Payetta cocked her head at him, her lips pinched tight either in anger or humor. “Why? Afraid I’ll bite the mayor’s head off?”
Justen battled her intense stare without blinking. He knew how much she hated to back down on anything, especially in front of others. “No,” he responded, “I know you’ll bite his head off. I’m afraid of the part where you’d light it on fire and kick it around Hargstead like a fieldball.”
Her tightly pursed lips cracked into a fanged grin. “My husband knows me too well.”
“I think we all do,” added Jax.
“Shut it,” snapped Payetta. “Or I’ll start whipping your ass like I do Old Ferren’s.”
Jax leaned back in his seat, arms raised in surrender.
“All right,” concluded Justen, pushing away from his chair to stand beside Payetta. “Let’s go. We can’t make the mayor move, but we can light the fire under him.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Justen stood on the horse cart as it ambled beside the stone walls of Hargstead, the largest village in the Meadowlands. As the cart neared the stables, he jumped to the ground. The rest of the Heroes Brigade followed suit as Ian steered his two horses to the rope ties to the left of the village gate.
They’d taken the Dead Grey Road from Old Ferren’s cottage to the little walled village of Hargstead. The ancient road ran through the middle of North and South Meadow. Largely intact, though sun beaten and cracked, Justen viewed it as both a convenience and a curse, for on one hand the strange hard material that comprised the road made travel smooth and easy for horses and carts, but it also provided a direct path for brutals, ravers, and raiders, and any number of bandits to enter into the Meadowlands from the south or the north.
One day, he and Payetta hoped to see the meadow borders secured by sentries and a wall set in place at either end of the valley. Like all things in the world, the road could be used for good or for evil. Even the most beautiful and lovely things of Heaven could become a curse if not protected from dark and wicked men like Zarith Smith and his mages.
That was why he was confident that God had raised up Payetta as a judge to protect and deliver the innocent.
His father had preached of such things from the half-burnt tome salvaged out of the ruins of a church. Chosen men and women were needed to defend the weak. It had been that way long ago, and it was that way now.
His wife—whether she embraced it or not—was one such chosen woman, and he was determined to fulfill his calling to love and protect her as she fulfilled her mission.
Justen glanced at the handful of farmers caught up in conversation outside the gate. Several looked at Payetta with a humorous, haughty gaze. Her reputation among many of the farmers was not a favorable one—especially with the women. It was a rare occasion her coming to Hargstead, and when she did, it always promised a clash of wills between her and Mayor Brundig. Or worse, Captain Percy.
Justen took Payetta’s hand and hoped Percy would be absent today. If not, there was sure to be a bitter dance of words.
Passing through the gate Justen glanced up at the small parapet that was occasionally used by a night watchman. The post was abandoned now and no one stood watch over the entrance as the Heroes Brigade passed through.
Twenty-two buildings lined the street, eleven on either side. Half were three stories high and overlooked the tall wall that was three times the height of a man. If there was one thing that was done right at Hargstead, it was having a decently large wall for protection.
Justen squeezed Payetta’s hand. If he guessed rightly, her blood was already threatening to boil over from the unwelcome looks she was receiving from shopkeepers and farmers alike.
By the time they reached the mayor’s quarters at the end of the street, a throng of twenty or more Meadowlanders had dropped what they were doing to follow them, no doubt expecting entertainment.
Justen reached out and knocked loudly on Mayor Brundig’s door.
A few moments later, the old wood hinges creaked as the door swung open.
The mayor stepped out from his house, dressed in a grey cloak and leather leggings. By all appearances, he looked like any one of the hard working farmers that lived outside the walls of Hargstead.
He smiled with a knowing look in his eye. “The Heroes Brigade. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Justen didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I’m afraid we have bad news. We came across five of Titannus’s men in the woods.” He turned and pointed east with his eyes where the dead bodies now rested. “We believe they were spying on South Meadow.”
Brundig’s brow wrinkled. He looked at the crowd behind Justen. “Jamie,” he called to a woman. “Bring Percy here and any of the Meadow Guard you find. Tell them it’s urgent.”
Justen sighed inwardly. He leaned close to Payetta’s ear. “Let me deal with Percy,” he whispered.
Payetta’s only response was to arch an eyebrow over stone hard eyes.
After the woman departed, the mayor glanced at Payetta with suspicion, then returned his eyes to Justen. “Five men, you say? Did they see you?”
“They’re all dead,” answered Justen and turned to Jax and nodded.
Jax sat the pack of swords and supplies at the mayor’s feet and began pulling each item out, starting with the weapons.
“You were able to kill all five?”
Justen nodded.
“And your brigade? Were there any injuries?”
“No. It’s what we train for,” said Justen. “Not a scratch on us.”
Well, thought Justen, not anymore at least. He was rather proud of using what little magic Payetta had taught him to heal the cut on her forehead.
He was careful not to point out that it was only he and Payetta who’d brought down the men. Neither would he ever reveal the true source of their strength. Payetta’s magic. Only the Heroes Brigade knew of it, and they all swore to keep it secret.
Many in the Meadowlands associated magic with evil, and for good reason. All the mages they knew were murderers, except for Payetta. But then, they only believed she was a brash and quarrelsome young woman who lived in the woods. And she was that, thought Justen. But she was a mage too, and a deadly one.
“We’re in your debt,” called the mayor, looking over the men of the Heroes Brigade behind Justen. “I know your calls for more volunteers have fallen on deaf ears, but your brigade has done well for itself. I am relieved to hear there were no injuries.”
It was the mayor’s usual dismissive tone that Justen heard each time they paid a visit to Hargstead. The mayor felt secure in his walled village and put very little pressure on the community to protect themselves.
At that moment, Percy strode up beside the mayor, along with six other men wearing grey or black cloaks with the crease of a concealed sword in its sheath marking them as men of the Meadow Guard, along with the green sashes they wore across their chests while on duty.
They were Mayor Brundig’s version of the Heroes Brigade. The only difference was that when he, Payetta and Old Ferren began forming their little group, they refused to surrender control to Mayor Brundig and assimilate into the Meadow Guard. And thus, the North Meadow Volunteer Heroes Brigade was born.
“Good day, Justen,” said Percy, then his eyes jumped to Payetta and most of the good humor departed them. “Payetta, lovely to see you, as always.”
“And you,” frowned Payetta. “Lovely.”
“Justen, would you please give your report to Captain Percy?” asked Mayor Brundig.
Justen retold the summary of their encounter quickly, careful to leave unmentioned that it had only been he and Payetta involved, then he gestured to the supplies Jax had laid out in front of the mayor’s door. “We think they were here to spy, judging on what we found in their packs. We caught them just beyond the meadow’s edge east of farmer Orin’s property.” Justen glanced at the mayor. “If there was ever a time to pressure North and South Meadows for more volunteers, it’s now.”
“You know my feelings,” said Mayor Brundig. “I agree with you, but resources are what they are and as Percy can attest, we’re stretched thin on volunteers.”
“Four of my men are out hunting ravers,” informed Percy. “I’m sure you heard about Dale’s boy being taken. Second time this year they’ve nabbed one of our kids. The rest of us are either here on duty, out keeping tabs with the farmers, or tending our own farm or business until our next shift. You know well I’m the only one being paid full time to do this.”
“I ain’t being paid squat,” said Payetta with her eyes narrowed on the man. “It’s not a matter of money, it’s a matter of living or dying.”
Percy’s nostrils flared. “There are four-hundred and thirty-two men in all of North and South Meadow. Those that want to volunteer do so. What would you have us do, threaten to burn down their farms?”
“Who said only men could volunteer?” snapped Payetta, and threw a glance over her shoulder.
Justen could see the women in the crowd wagging their heads in contempt at his wife’s blazing eyes.
“All right,” Mayor Brundig sighed. “You know what Percy meant. Even if you add in any women who wished to volunteer—which there aren’t any but you, Payetta—I think we have a sufficient plan in place in the event that Titannus comes with a similar force to what your mountain community experienced.”
The comparison didn’t sit right with Justen. First, no one knew the actual number of men who’d ravaged his and Payetta’s mountain community. And since the two of them were the sole survivors, no one ever would.
