Knight's Creed

by P. J. Cherubino

  “This path looks well-traveled,” the blond one said.

  His black-haired companion responded, “Mark it on the map from the junction back the way we came.”

  The men stopped. Moxy clung to the tree ten feet above Vinnie’s head. Her skin shimmered and disappeared while her leather and silk clothing blended in with the foliage.

  Her blowgun seemed to float in the air supported by nothing. Vinnie shook his head and wanted to shout “No!” but “FFFFFT!” went the blowpipe, and the man holding the map staggered and dropped.

  Vinnie reduced his mass and launched himself at the man. As soon as they made contact, he let his full weight return. He choked the mercenary unconscious, but not before the enemy put a big gash across his arm below the tricep.

  “What did you do that for?” Vinnie asked with a mix of surprise and anger.

  She didn’t answer, but gathered up some stringy moss and dressed his wound with it. She brought out some silky cloth and made a bandage from it. The blood stopped immediately, but it stung like crazy.

  “It will heal faster that way,” she said.

  “What did you have in mind?” Vinnie asked. “Now they’ll know someone is active in the area.”

  “That’s why you need to kill your guy, and we’ll stage the bodies on a path far away from here,” Moxy said. “In fact, why didn’t you kill your guy?”

  “Wasn’t necessary,” Vinnie told her.

  Moxy sighed and before Vinnie could object, she poked the sleeping man with a poison thorn.

  “Oh well,” Vinnie said. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

  “What’s a penny?” Moxy asked.

  “Not again,” Vinnie grumbled, then awkwardly threw both dead men over his shoulders.

  Even though it cost them two hours, they hiked north, then east of the keep and planted the bodies on a path that had many mercenary tracks. Vinnie was glad the mercs used the same boots. Their paths were easy to spot.

  Moxy grabbed the map and searched the bodies for any kind of papers. “I can’t read this,” she said. “It looks important, though.”

  “And you say you’ve never done this before,” Vinnie said.

  Moxy shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just hunting. Humans just have different signs that need reading.”

  “I’m grateful for your company,” Vinnie said with a bow.

  Moxy smiled, then scrambled up a tree trunk with her claws. She did the squirrel thing as Vinnie got back into stealth mode. They doubled back to the keep.

  The moon was nearing its peak when they finally got there.

  “What’s the plan?” Vinnie asked, keeping his voice low.

  Moxy’s voice was so high, that it carried farther, so she had to talk to Vinnie with her hands cupped over his ear. Her closeness and the sweet smell of her skin woke him up in ways he hadn’t considered in a while.

  “I will get over the wall and look at things while I’m transparent,” Moxy said. “And you are very handsome, but I don’t want to mate with you.”

  Vinnie felt his face catch fire, he fell backwards from his crouch and floundered on the ground.

  Moxy covered her mouth with both hands to stop herself from squealing with laughter. Vinnie picked himself up. His mouth tried to form words, but couldn’t. Moxy cupped her hands to his ear again.

  “Humans are funny. I can smell it on you. I’m so flattered. But that Gormer,” she made a sour face.

  Vinnie shrugged his shoulders and grinned like a teenager. She patted him on the head, then began to strip.

  Vinnie turned red again and turned away. He probably should have watched her go so he could cover her, just in case, but now she drove him to distraction.

  “Discipline and honor, Vincenzo,” he said to himself a bit too loudly. “Remember your training.”

  Vinnie got his desire back under control and focused on the mission. As they agreed, he made a lap around the keep, taking careful mental notes.

  The guards on duty looked to be all standard keep personnel. However, he saw three patrols leave via the main gates, and they were all Jank’s elite men. Moxy wasn’t back by the time he completed his circuit.

  He began to worry as the moon rose to its highest point. She finally returned just when he was about to go looking for her. This time, he had no problem seeing her naked form. She didn’t appear to be injured. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Sorry,” she said in his ear again. He had to squat down so she could reach him. “I saw many interesting things. Let’s hurry back.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Gormer’s Crash Course

  Soon after Moxy and Vinnie left for their recon mission, Astrid pulled Gormer aside. “Come walk with me.”

  They walked past several bandits setting traps along the trail.

  “We’re gonna need to know where all those are,” Gormer said.

  “We will,” Astrid said. “But let’s see if you can tell right now.”

  “What?” Gormer blurted out. “The actual fuck are you talking about?”

  “I mean close your eyes right now.”

  Gormer looked annoyed, then compiled. “Don’t turn around,” Astrid said. He opened his mouth. “And don’t speak.”

  She closed her own eyes, and let energy from the Well rise up and seep into her. Her breathing slowed, and with it, her heartbeat. She allowed herself to feel the energy around her.

  “What do you feel?” Astrid said in a voice nearly too soft to hear.

  “Fucking annoyed,” he growled.

  “Grab that,” Astrid said, even more softly. She slowed her heart and let go of all her defenses. “Now let it go.”

  She felt him in her mind then, at first like fingers brushing against her hand. She opened her eyes slowly and thought, “And now?”

  “Nothing,” his voice sounded in her head. “What am I supposed to be doing?”

  “Exactly what you are. I am not speaking.”

  Astrid opened her eyes and found Gormer standing there, face relaxed. He held his hands slightly away from his body as if he was floating in water. His nose was not bleeding.

  She felt him recoil. “No,” she allowed the gentle thought to move between them. “Don’t run from this. This is you. The real you.”

  A single tear ran down from his right eye. “You don’t know the real me,” he said.

  Astrid felt as if a cold wind swept over her. “Charlie does,” she thought. The cold wind stopped. “Stay in this,” she thought. But he didn’t.

  He opened his eyes and the connection was gone. He looked at Astrid as if for the first time. She felt the same way.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “Try not to forget this,” she replied.

  “But I will,” he said.

  “I know. Remember that I told you there would come a time that you will trust me?”

  He nodded his head and wiped away the tear.

  “You will remember this moment again when the time comes.”

  “I can feel myself slipping back again,” he said, voice filled with regret.

  “You can’t change this overnight,” Astrid said. “Let’s walk.”

  They moved through the forest in silence. Astrid kept to her walking meditation while Gormer struggled with himself.

  She thought she would have to stop him from stepping into a tripline trap, but he avoided it at the last second. He felt it. She knew he had. They made a big circuit around the camp and arrived back an hour later.

  Woody noticed the difference immediately. “He’s… different,” he observed. “I’ve never seen his face… ”

  “Relaxed?” Astrid completed the sentence.

  “Yeah,” Woody remarked, scratching his chin. “More than that. I can feel him like a real friend—like part of my tribe. Before, he was like a blank space or…just an asshole or a ball of hate. It was good to have him around, but not too close. Now… ”

  “If you try to kiss me, I’m kicking your ass,” Gormer growled.
/>   “That’s more like it,” Woody said.

  Astrid tapped her head with her index finger. Gormer shot her a secret smile before he went off to grab a hammock one of the bandits had strung up for patrols to rest.

  “I have a of couple people making camo suits,” Woody said. He pointed toward a set of saplings that they had used to string up a netting loom. “Argan had tons of cordage for rope making. We’re using the individual strands.”

  The crafters had taken the nets and made complete suits from them, in all different sizes. The netting allowed twigs, vines and other foliage to be attached to the garment. When placed carefully in the suits, forest foliage would break up the easily-recognizable human shape and make it blend into the woods.

  Astrid rested her hand absently on her own rope. “Nothing like good cordage,” she said. “This is the smartest thing I’ve ever seen done with netting.”

  The bandits beamed and continued working.

  Astrid and Woody circulated through the camp, checking on all the tiny details that made a camp run and made the difference between success and failure. She was optimistic.

  She found a hammock of her own soon after sunset and napped until she woke herself up near midnight. After showing them how to make a smokeless fire, she went to stand by it now. An enterprising soul had piled some rocks around the chimney hole to hold heat against the chilly night.

  A light snow began to fall when Vinnie and Moxy returned to camp.

  “I thought you’d be sleeping,” Vinnie said.

  “Hard to sleep with people risking their lives under your orders,” she replied.

  “It wasn’t that bad, boss,” Vinnie said. “Especially not with this one.” He pointed his thumb at Moxy.

  “Show her the map,” Moxy said proudly. “I found it on a patrol we killed.”

  Astrid raised her eyebrow.

  “We took out a couple and staged the bodies to look like they were on another trail.”

  “Hopefully, that’s the only map,” Astrid said. “They might be transcribing this map to a larger version back at the keep.”

  “I… I didn’t think of that,” Vinnie stammered.

  “That’s what I’d be doing,” Astrid said.

  Astrid spread the map across the table beneath the rock overhang and a couple of bandits just off night patrol came over. They pored over the parchment, which was surprisingly well-drawn. It took them a few minutes to orient themselves to the lines.

  One of the bandits gasped. “They’re not mapping toward Argan,” she said. “They’re going toward the caves.”

  The other bandit stepped back from the table and covered his mouth as his eyes went wide. “They’re trying to find out where we live.”

  “That would explain why they haven’t attacked Argan yet,” Vinnie said.

  “We have to move out now,” the female bandit said. “We can’t let them find our home! I’ll wake everyone—”

  “Wait,” Astrid said. “That’s what they want.”

  “How fucking easy it is for you to say ‘wait,’” he shot back, raising his voice. “It’s not you’re old mother and father about to be killed.”

  Astrid took a deep breath. “We will send them help immediately,” Astrid said. “But they are watching us. They might not know where we are, but they have a pretty good idea. I know one thing that will let them win, and that is if we lose our heads. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I am just as concerned for your family as I am for Argan. Knowing what Jank’s men are changes everything. They have to be stopped. We will stop them.”

  “Caves, you say?” Vinnie asked.

  “Yeah,” the female bandit said. “The new ancients used to call them ‘mines.’ They’re way up in the hills. It’s well-protected. The Assessors haven’t found us in fifty years.”

  “That’s why we use camps like this,” the male bandit said. “They think we’re constantly on the move. We know how to hide our numbers.”

  “That’s the weakness,” Astrid said. “They’ve always thought of you as nomads. They never stopped to ask themselves how you really sustain yourselves over multiple generations.”

  “They didn’t think enough of you to care where you came from,” Vinnie said. “And we will use that weakness—that arrogance—against them. But it will cost you, should you agree.”

  “Go wake up Woody and George,” Astrid said. The patrol hesitated a moment, then looked at Vinnie. His eyes told them everything they needed to know.

  “I’m trusting you two,” the male bandit said. It was both a plea and an implied threat.

  When they were out of earshot, Astrid turned to Vinnie. “We can’t let them down,” she said. “We just became responsible for hundreds of lives.”

  “Again,” Vinnie replied. “A job I can’t seem to avoid.”

  Astrid was about to pursue that statement when Woody and George stumbled over half asleep.

  “What is it?” Woody asked, scratching himself and yawning. “We’re not under attack, so why the fuck am I out of my nice, warm furs.”

  “Jank’s trying to find your home in the caves,” Astrid said.

  Both Woody and George stopped breathing for a second. They were awake now.

  “How close are they?” Woody asked.

  “I’ll send a scout back to my territory,” George said. “I’ll pull my reserve, and we’ll—”

  “I’m sure Woody appreciates that, George, but we have to be careful. Your home still needs defense, and you already have a big commitment here.”

  “No sense risking two tribes,” Woody said.

  George looked down and made fists.

  “We’ll send a scout to the caves,” Astrid said. “Have him check for signs that Jank’s men have found the trail.”

  “Their boots leave distinct tracks,” Vinnie said.

  “Yeah, we know,” Woody replied. “What else?” he asked, turning to Astrid.

  But Vinnie had the answer that surprised everyone. “We move your people out. Anyone who can’t fight—the old, the infirm, the children—they head to George’s territory. Away from the fight. Then, we lead Jank’s men right to the caves.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Woody said. “I’m not sacrificing the safest place we’ve had for fifty years to defeat one Compliance Company!”

  “We’re not going to defeat one company,” Astrid said. “We’re going to take Keep 52. Then we’re going to rip this whole system down. That part might take longer, but we’re going to do it. Any system that tolerates the murder of whole villages to make a point has to go.”

  Woody and George looked at each other, then turned to Astrid. “We’ve been saying the Protectors have to go for decades. Nobody listens to us, even after our ancestors got kicked out of their homes because they couldn’t grow enough fucking turnips to satisfy some fucking bean counters.”

  “That’s because we stopped them in the process. We have Bluefield. We have Blue Creek. They are still standing. We also have the books. And when we take Keep 52, we’ll have records of their deeds. We’ll show those records to the village Elders. We’ll make them see.”

  “Just make sure they don’t kill my Grandmother,” Woody said. “How about that.”

  “Can you kill Gerty the Grinder?” George quipped.

  Woody whirled on him, fists balled up. George backed off and held up his hands. “Easy, buddy…” he said.

  “Sorry,” Woody said, smiling to Astrid’s great relief. “She’d kill us both if she knew I let you say that. She always hated that name.”

  Astrid was curious. “What’s the story there?”

  “It’s a long one,” Woody replied. “She kind of runs the place—as much as anyone can run a bandit hideout. She did twenty years hard labor for a heist and raised six kids, including my mother, all while pulling capers and keeping the caves hidden.”

  “Sounds like a woman I want to meet,” Astrid laughed.

  “Careful what you wish for,” Woody said. “She just turned sevent
y, and she still bow hunts deer. Alone.”

  Astrid nodded in appreciation. “OK, she sounds perfect. But let’s do step one and re-evaluate. First, roust a fresh scout and send him to the caves. We’ll send a few fighters to guard the caves while they prepare to move out.”

  “You better have a good second part,” Woody said. “I’ll get this moving.”

  “The most important thing right now,” Astrid said, “is to keep everyone calm. They can’t win if we don’t play into their fear tactic.”

  “Too fucking late,” Woody said.

  “Tell me that. Nobody else. Keep them calm and we will win. I promise you that.”

  George stayed a moment while Woody went to find a fresh scout. “I need to send word to my people that they will have guests. It might not go well.”

  “We have plenty of extra food to send with them,” Vinnie said. “I’ll make that happen.”

  “Hold off on that,” Astrid said. “I’m heading to the caves at dawn.”

  “Which is—” George looked up at the moon “—less than four hours away.”

  “I’ll be meditating,” Astrid said.

  She found a good spot under a massive pine and sat cross-legged until the rising sun warmed her face. Familiar footsteps approached.

  “I felt you thinking about me,” Gormer said, squatting down.

  Astrid looked at him. “How do you feel?”

  “Like warm dogshit that wants his opium. If Moxy’s tea doesn’t work, I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Astrid said. “You’ve been trying to make my life hell since we met. You’re terrible at it.”

  She stood up and beamed at him like the sun itself.

  “I fucking hate chipper people, especially in the morning.” He turned and spat.

  Astrid draped her arm over his shoulders and pulled him in as she led him back to camp. “Come on, asshole,” she said. “Let’s see if Moxy has more tea for you.”

  She did. “Drink this and shut up,” Moxy said. “I’m not in the mood.”