by LeRoy Clary
Bender said, “Tell me one thing, will you? It’s summer everywhere else, but here the sky is gray from smoke. Why are there so many fires that the sky is full of smoke? And is it even smokier in the winter when everyone uses their fireplaces?”
“That’s two things you asked. But, your answer is that fires are used for businesses such as the iron works, as well as the charcoal factory that burns wood hauled in from the forests. Coincidentally, both are owned by the Cabot family and didn’t exist a few years ago.”
“So, the air was not always this dirty?” Tyler asked.
“Oh no, that happened with the businesses. When I first arrived about twenty years back, it was no worse than in other cities. Oh, there were sewers that gagged you, muck in the streets, rotting vegetables that didn’t sell near the markets, butcher-shop leavings, and the stench of urine everywhere. Overall, no better or worse than other cities,” Girt said. “Then the Cabots arrived, and everything got worse.”
“How?” Bender asked, looking shocked that it could get worse.
“The king’s treasury was empty, so he didn’t have the gold to pay for things like cleaning the city, or passing laws against the Cabot companies that belch smoke because he needs their favor.”
Bender still watched out the windows and said, “He doesn’t talk much—until he does.”
“Whatever that means,” Tyler laughed. “What are you so interested in watching out there?”
Bender said, “I was just about to mention it. There are men out there who are not looking up at me.”
With a smile, Girt asked, “Do you find that odd?”
“I do,” Bender said. “Since we showed ourselves up here, the local people have been straining their necks to see who we are. We’re new, and they’re curious, a natural thing to happen. Obviously, the locals know that this building usually stands empty, so they look and wonder at the new people.”
Girt had been sitting on a sofa, his attention divided between Tyler and Bender. But, at Bender’s words, he leaped to his feet and joined Bender at the window overlooking the main street.
Bender said, “Those that are not looking up here are walking in pairs.”
“Not looking? I still don’t understand,” Girt said. “Why is that significant?”
“Exactly my point. Normally, local people should look up at us, just because they are curious. But the men walking in pairs refuse to look up here as if they’re intentionally avoiding making eye-contact with us.”
“Why do you think they’re doing that?” Girts asked.
Bender pointed to a pair of men walking past, looking in all directions except at the building. “That means they were ordered to avoid looking up until they’re ready to attack.”
“Those two are wearing swords, and both are Cabot’s men. I recognize them.” Girt turned to scan the rest of the street as Tyler stepped to his side to join them. Girt added, “And those, also. They all have weapons.”
Tyler said, “Something’s up, alright. They know about us.”
Girt spun and almost knocked Tyler down as he raced down the stairs. On the first floor, he called, “Close the trapdoor!”
Then, before any could react, he ran to the lever on the wall and threw it. With the help of two guards, he grabbed the heavy iron bar and slid it into place through the rings fastened to the door and floor to secure the access to the tunnel. “Grab your weapons and muster on the third floor.”
Bender and Tyler met them on the stairs. Girt was already waving to the men on the third floor to join him. Tyler said, “The Cabots knows about us? You’re sure?”
Girt snapped, “They probably don’t know all of it, but they know enough to send people here. That means Jenkins is also being watched or already taken as a prisoner. Someone talked. Probably one of the magistrates sold him out.”
“We should go help him,” Tyler said.
Girt shook his head. “No, we’re doing what we need right here. I doubt if even the Cabots would attack this building, right in the center of town where everyone would know about it and watch. Not even the king could forgive that transgression. They might send in assassins, but not a frontal attack. At least, not yet.”
“But if Jenkins is in trouble . . .” Tyler began.
“Jenkins is the smartest man I know,” Girt said. “If anything, he over-plans. He didn’t share all his plans with you, he never does, but he was prepared for this, I promise. If it didn’t happen today, it would have tomorrow or the next day.”
Bender pointed to the street. “The Cabots didn’t put those men down there to parade up and down the street all day.”
Girt said, “No, they’re scouting the area and trying to find a way inside. Notice how they’re congregating near the doors? Walking slowly past them? A few are talking next to the main door. They’re waiting for someone to enter or leave so they can slip inside. When that happens, they’ll rush the door and hold it open for the rest to enter. They hope to be inside before anyone knows the attack is underway, and out of sight of the citizens.”
Bender agreed, and added. “They want to do their dirty work behind closed doors.”
Tyler understood, but he had another thought. “When the door doesn’t ever open, they might get desperate.”
“Short ladders will take them to the second floor where the arrow ports are, but they’re too small to climb through. Longer ladders will reach here to the third.” Bender said.
Girt said, “That’s why my archers will be here and on the second floor. Nobody will place a ladder against this building without feeling the pain of our arrows.”
The men inside the building had already spread out, taking positions at every window, their weapons close at hand. Tyler watched the men on the street below and noticed they were entering every nearby building. “They’re looking for the tunnel entrance.”
“They suspect one,” Girt said. “They do not know for sure. But they’re searching the buildings next to this one, not the ones two streets away. However, if they do locate it, they cannot reach us.”
“They could set a fire in the tunnel below the trapdoor,” Bender said. “It would burn through the wood.”
“The cistern on the roof holds enough water to flood the tunnel. A pipe was built to do that, so fire, poison, gas and other attempts to gain access that way, are prevented. Remember, this building was constructed as a fortress.” Girt spoke sharply, his massive biceps flexed in anticipation of a battle.
A sharp grunt from one of the soldiers drew their attention. When they turned, the man was working an arrow from the wood frame beside the window where he stood. He freed it and rushed to Girt, holding it out.
A paper was wrapped around the shaft. Girt unrolled and read it. He said, “It’s from Jenkins. He’s in hiding. He suspected one of the magistrates would betray him, so he increased the number of deeds he filed with each of the other magistrates. He bribed two more and presented deeds to them for verification. All but a few of the lesser deeds have been filed.”
“The king can still stop them from changing ownership,” Bender said.
Girt shook his head. “The kings lost those legal powers a century ago, and rely on the lawyers, judges, and magistrates for everyday affairs such as filing deeds. No king would dare reject legal filings by his own magistrates.”
Tyler said, “The Cabots can attack the magistrates and seize the deeds, claiming they own them.”
“No, that would involve attacking the king’s palace, and I see no way he would allow that. Besides, upon filing, new deeds are drawn up, and three copies are made, then all are sent to different archive locations for protection from fire, floods. . . and people like the Cabots. The convertible deeds are destroyed.”
“Girt, are you a lawyer, too? If not, you sure sound like one.”
“I am a warrior, and when young, I practiced law in a land far from here. A man can be both, you know.”
“I didn’t know. I’ve never met a lawyer like you, and while I was in the a
rmy, I stayed away from all warriors and officers. And especially lawyers,” Tyler said laughing, then sobered. “Then what are they doing out there on the street if they cannot attack us?”
“I assume that if both of you die, the deeds can be invalidated because there are no claimants unless one of you is married or has children. Or, they are scared that you are planning to attack them and they wish to strike first.” Girt shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “However, it is my assumption that they do not know the extent of the number of deeds you filed, or they would ignore the king and attack this building in mass.”
Bender turned to Tyler. “This is all your fault.”
“Mine? Who wanted to desert the army and set all this in motion?”
“Who wanted to come here and fight the Cabots?” Bender shouted back.
“Prim wanted to,” Tyler said, and they both laughed while the soldiers nearby listened and watched as if they were daft. “Besides, I think I may have children to leave my belongings to.”
“How many?” Bender demanded.
Tyler considered. A number too great would be laughed at. Too small and the same would happen, but for a different reason. He compromised. “At least five.”
Girt turned to him, surprised. But, Bender snickered, “I probably have six or seven. Maybe eight, now that I think of it. All with different mothers and all beautiful, mothers and children.”
Even Girt had to smile at the boasts of the two liars. Then he said, “We have a temporary standoff, it appears.”
“Temporary?” Prim asked from the top of the stairs.
Girt gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “We have food for ten days, maybe more. Whatever happens, will happen within those ten days.”
“Well, that’s a pretty bleak statement,” Prim said. “There’s a hundred things that can change in ten days.”
“Only if we escape, procure more supplies, or win. Those are our three options.”
Prim placed her hands on her hips and pouted. “Do you ever smile?”
“I did once last winter, but my teeth got cold,” Girt said.
Tyler and Bender laughed. Prim didn’t. Neither did Girt. The situation became awkward. The soldier nearby pretended to concentrate on watching the ground outside. Some moved further away from the girl. Girt began pacing, his strides long and sure. He walked each side of the building and examined it from all aspects, making sure it was protected, the men were positioned properly, and he found no weaknesses.
Tyler followed him, observing anything Girt paused to examine. When Girt returned to the original starting point near the table holding much of the food for the kitchen, he paused. “We can’t rely on messages attached to arrows. I’m surprised it worked once, but the men on the ground won’t miss spotting many more attempts, and it is all one-way communication. We need to send our own messages, or at least, one. We need to draw the king’s attention to this building,” Girt said.
“Set it on fire,” Bender said, smiling.
“I’m serious.”
Bender’s smile increased, “So am I.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The suddenness of the change in Girt’s attitude from one of ease to barking orders threw the men into a rush to perform his demands. It was clear he was used to commanding men—and probably had been an officer in an army at some time. The men were armed and on the third floor, ignoring the arrow ports on the second, for now. One man remained at the trapdoor on the first floor with instructions to notify Girt of anyone arriving, but he was told never to open the door unless Girt stood at his side.
Bender and Tyler watched the people on the road below and found more of Cabot’s men arriving, trying to look inconspicuous. They attempted to blend in but stood out by their actions.
Tyler said, “I think you upset Girt by offering to set the building on fire.”
“He doesn’t understand me, yet. I’m sure that in time he will think me wonderful, as do most people.”
“I don’t think he ever will,” Tyler said. “No sense of humor.”
Prim said, “Well, I can’t speak for him, but I don’t understand you either. The difference is that I trust you and believe in what you say.”
The cook prepared a meal, but few of the men chose to eat. Prim sensed the tension and had left the animals below to Franklin’s care and the boy he’d hired to clean up that had arrived shortly before the basement hatch had been closed. She stood aside and observed Tyler and Bender, her attention torn between them and the people on the street below.
She said, “But, I do have to say that setting fire to this building doesn’t make a lot of sense, especially when we’re in it unless you intend to use the fire as a diversion and escape through the tunnel.”
Bender flashed his most engaging smile. “See? There is a mind that thinks! Wrong, but a good secondary plan.”
Tyler pointed, “The roof?”
Bender jutted his chin, “In that back corner room.”
“What are you talking about?” Prim demanded. But, she followed them down the hallway past more men watching the street below, and into a storage room. Attached to the wall were the rungs of a ladder, and at the top was a small hatch.
Bender went first, nudging the hatch with his head until it lifted high enough over a lip to push it aside. He climbed out onto a flat roof and waited, hands on hips, a wide grin on his face. Tyler saw the reason why as soon as he poked his head over the rim. Bender stood beside a large copper basin, probably used for washing rugs or other large items, perhaps even people. A pipe ran from the tub to the side of the building, then down, to carry away water.
Tyler climbed to his feet while looking around at what else of use might be on the roof. The stone cistern stood near the rear, reaching from the ground to above the roof, taller than a man. If full, water would flow from there to the copper tub via another pipe.
Prim climbed out onto the roof, her voice sharp and cutting, “We’re all set if we want to wash something.”
“Or burn something,” Bender said.
“But, we should set bricks under it, just in case,” Tyler said. “We don’t want to set the building on fire unless we need to.”
“Of course, that’s a good idea. Still, we might want to move it closer to the front of the building so it can be seen better from the street, too. Besides, it will provide more light for us to see anybody attacking.”
Prim said, “The two of you know what you’re talking about, but I don’t.”
“Setting a signal fire on top of the building,” Bender said.
“We want to attract the attention of people around here, so we’ll set a fire in the copper tub tonight and shout to the people below that we’re being held here by the men the Cabots have down there,” Tyler said, then grinned evilly. “Hell, we might even start a few new rumors of our own.”
“Worse for the Cabots, we might even tell the truth,” Bender added with a wicked smile.
Prim finally started to understand. She walked the perimeter of the roof, watching down on the street. When she returned, she said, “Either of you ever hear of the Stew Trials of King Loth?”
Both shook their heads.
“A long time ago in a faraway kingdom, men accused of lying were placed in a circle of truth. It was a line carved in stone around an iron spike that a dragon was chained to. The story said that the dragon wouldn’t eat a man who told the truth, so only liars fled.”
“Interesting,” Bender said. “How can we use that?”
Prim said, “I was thinking. If we were in such a situation, and the dragons were recently fed, they wouldn’t eat someone. Otherwise . . .”
Tyler liked the core of the idea. It might be possible to do something similar if they could get a Cabot to face their dragon of truth. “Why are they called the Stew Trials?”
“Old King Loth used that name. He claimed to make stew for the dragons out of liars.” Prim shrugged, “There’s more to the story, but this isn’t the time for it.”
&nb
sp; A pair of soldiers climbed onto the roof. Bender said, “Just in time. We need some bricks or something to hold that brass tub off the roof. We’re going to build a fire in it as a beacon. We’ll also need things to burn in there. Whatever wood you can find.”
The elder of the two snapped to attention. “Sir, we’ll get right on it. Will it be okay to burn furniture, since that’s about all we have?”
“And oil from the kitchen to get it going,” Tyler added. “Use your judgment, but don’t break down everything. We may want to sit on a chair, or build a fire in the next few days.”
The two disappeared back down the hatch. Bender went to the front of the building where a knee-high stone rampart ran around the flat roof. He put his hands to his mouth to funnel the sound, “Hey, you people down there! Attention! The Cabot family is going to attack this building, so get clear of here. Tell your friends to stay away, so they don’t get hurt.”
“Well, that’s going to push the Cabots to act faster,” Prim said. “Are you sure that was smart?”
“True,” Tyler agreed. “Maybe they’ll do it earlier than they intend. It might also confuse them, or cause them to rush and make a mistake. Or bring royal troops here, if we’re lucky.”
“You always take Bender’s side,” Prim pouted.
“Only when he’s right. Never let your enemy choose the time and place of battle if you can help it. Do it for him,” Tyler said.
She scowled, “That sounds like a soldier talking.”
“It is,” Tyler responded, without anger or being upset. He puffed his chest out a little and imagined how his old lieutenant would have reacted to the situation.
Prim said, “I’m going to check on Thunder, Rage, and Lucky.”
“You mean that you’re going to make sure Franklin is doing what you think is best for them. Besides, you’re tired of hanging around us,” Bender told her.
She rolled her eyes as she spun away, but Tyler caught the beginning of a smile before she turned completely. She climbed down as the two soldiers returned. They knelt near the ladder as men below handed up bricks probably ripped from a fireplace. They stacked them on the roof, one after another making layers. Then, after the stack was knee high and contained a few hundred bricks, they passed up pieces of broken furniture, beginning with what may have been a table and chairs. Jars of oil followed.
