by C. M. Lind
Randolph almost jumped at the voice. Out of the corner of his eye, to the left, he saw three men standing about thirty feet away—too close for comfort. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed them sooner. He must have been more tired, or distracted, than he thought. He turned towards them, moving himself in front of Soli with one step.
The three did not appear armed, not that he could see at least, but they were dressed like common thugs or mercenaries: fitted, simple wool clothing underneath plain hardened leather armor with tall, practical, leather boots. Men like that were a common sight at the waterfront—cheap mercenaries available for hire by merchants and captains.
They looked southern. Their skin and hair reminded Randolph of his mother, but that was where the similarity ended. While Randolph’s mother had gentle eyes, theirs looked bitter, as if starved of kindness. One of the men was wearing a sling. His left arm was held tightly across his chest with the help of rough burlap. The injured man stood guardedly. He was obviously unsure of whether to approach Randolph, like a doe seeing a human for the first time, assessing the situation. The other two seemed eager, like starving dogs smelling an unguarded meat pie.
Randolph put his hand out instinctively, as one would do to calm an animal. If they were looking at his left hand, then they would not be paying attention to his right, which moved quickly to the grip of the small knife on his belt at his right side. He wanted to pull out his long blade on his back, but he knew the motion would spark a confrontation, and he didn’t want Soli to get hurt. First, he decided, he would figure out what the men wanted. If all they were after was few coins, he’d gladly throw them some to spare Soli the sight of bloodshed or possible harm.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Soli closely step behind him, and he could feel her tugging at the backpack he still carried. Smart girl, he thought. He needed to just keep his armored body in the way of her unarmored one.
“What was that she said to you the other day, Justino?” the man on the left asked, turning to the bandaged man.
“Well, Arn, I think she said that she wasn’t interested in nobody,” said Justino.
Randolph felt Soli fiddling with the backpack. Perhaps she was getting coins, he thought. He kept his attention on the men. “Fellas, let’s not do anything stupid. Just tell me what you need.” Randolph moved his outstretched hand in motion with his words, hoping to catch their eyes, while his other pushed off the peace tie, a small braid of leather, from his knife.
“Oh, we’re wondering why that bitch behind you would lie to Justino. My brother is a good guy! He was just being nice to her the other day! She lies to him and then breaks his wrist! All for complimenting her!” said Arn, motioning to Justino’s bandaged arm. “And now, we see this whore with somebody like you!”
“Oh, I see. Soli, did you want to introduce me to your friends?” asked Randolph. He couldn’t disguise his sarcasm. Hearing them call her a bitch again made the fingers at his knife twitch.
“No, not really.” She whispered back. He could feel the backpack he was bearing become lighter as she pulled something free from it. “That one in the sling broke the ‘look but don’t touch’ rule.”
“Well,” Randolph said to the men in front of him, “I’m sorry to hear that there was some kind of incident, but I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
“No, you’re right. It won’t. Because we’re going to take her now and break her wrist,” said Arn.
“Nah, we’re going to break more than that,” added the third. His words were slow and giddy.
“Well, that’s going to be a problem for me. I really don’t think that’s the best course for you three,” said Randolph.
“You can get yourself another girl—a better one. One without the attitude, I’m sure. So leave your whore of a girlfriend with us, and we won’t have any problem with you,” said Arn.
Randolph heard a click behind him. “Well, first off, she’s not a whore, and she’s not my girlfriend. We went through all this a minute ago—you just missed it. And secondly, she doesn’t have to be my girlfriend for me to not want her wrist broken. So unless you want me to get involved, you all should back off.” He felt a jostling of the backpack, and then he felt the return of some, but not all, of the weight from before.
“Not going to happen. I can’t let my brother be attacked by a stuck-up bitch. It’s not right. He was paying her a compliment!” said Arn.
Soli leaned close to Randolph’s ear and whispered, “Justino throws knives; I bet he already has one palmed. Arn will try to get you to the ground to grapple you. Don’t let him. Raulo keeps a metal bar in his belt.”
“What is she saying to you?” demanded the third man, who Randolph surmised was Raulo.
“Oh, you know women! She was asking if we could stop on the way home to buy some new shoes,” said Randolph.
“You’re just as bad as her!” said Justino. He looked agitated, like man who used Fenweed too much and started at too young of an age.
Randolph chuckled. “Nah, I think I’m a bit worse.”
“Enough,” barked Raulo. “There are three of us and only one of you. I don’t care how big you are. You can’t take three of us with that carving knife you’ve been fondling.”
“And I’ll have a knife in you before you draw that ridiculous sword on your back,” said Justino. The hesitation from before vanished, and Justino was puffed up like his brother, Arn.
“I do not need Mr. Randolph to fight for me, Justino,” Soli said, her eyes peeking from behind Randolph’s shoulder. “Although, you should be afraid that he is willing. He is not a gutter rat like you. His life is warfare. If you have a problem with me, then fight me and only me. I will gladly break your other wrist, if that is what you wish. And, for being so rude to my friend, I’ll also smash your teeth.” Her words were filled with forceful, dominant energy, but they contained no anger.
Randolph narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at her for a second. He whispered, “What are you doing? You’re not helping! Let’s not antagonize the assholes until you’re out of danger. Then if you want, I’ll kill them for you.” He figured it was probably more practical and personal than flowers.
She whispered back, “I’m not antagonizing them; I am simply letting them know what will happen.”
“You filthy cunt,” snapped Arn.
Justino stepped away from Arn and Raulo. There was a knife in his hand; Randolph could see it now. The man lifted his one good arm back to throw it right at Soli, who Randolph was still in front of.
Randolph felt a strong push from behind. Soli shoved him to the left as Justino let loose the knife. Randolph heard it whiz through the air and thud into the wooden siding of the tenement behind them. He righted himself from the push and pulled free the small knife at his waist.
Raulo had struggled to pull the large metal club behind him from his belt, but it was in his hand. Arn was running straight for Soli, and Justino pulled another knife from his belt.
“Randolph—Arn!” Soli yelled.
Randolph didn’t think. He lowered his shoulder and charged Arn. Arn saw him, but Randolph was too fast, and he closed the short distance between them in a second. Arn couldn’t prevent the impact, and he flew five feet before crashing into the dirt road. Randolph stumbled over, the knife still firmly in his grasp.
“Get the weapons!” shouted Justino to Raulo.
Randolph turned back to the two standing men. He thought they were talking about his knife. Good, he thought, have them put all their attention on him, and not Soli. Raulo was closer to Randolph, but he was afraid that Justino would throw another knife at Soli.
Randolph heard a whirring sound go right past his ear, and he saw a silver mass flying through the air. It stopped as it punched several inches into Justino’s chest, and the man collapsed, falling backwards onto the ground. The steel banded handle of a hand axe that shone with silver-filled carvings were splattered with fresh, bright blood. More crimson sputtered from Justino as he re
flexively tried to pull the axe free from his ribcage. The man’s eyes were wide with disbelief, a shrill squeal erupted from his mouth, and then his eyes closed as he passed out at the sight of his own gore.
Randolph glanced to his left. Soli was there now. She wielded another hand axe, a twin of the one lodged in Justino, and her eyes were locked onto Raulo. He lunged towards her.
Randolph made to intercept Raulo, but Soli had already stepped forward, deflecting Raulo’s attack with her axe. The steel clashed together, and Soli raised her other hand and struck at Raulo. He pulled his face away at the last second, and a punch that would have left a black eye instead grazed the outside of the socket.
Between Soli and Raulo, Randolph could see that Arn was back on his feet. He looked at his lifeless brother, and Randolph could see his face flooding with wild rage. Soli didn’t need Randolph to fight Raulo, but Randolph knew she needed him to fight Arn. He ran behind Soli, hearing their metal weapons clash over and over again, like a well-timed song.
Arn wasn’t looking for Randolph; his eyes were solely on Soli. She tried to position herself so that Raulo would be between them, but Raulo gave her no accommodation. The man must have been tougher than he looked, because he was holding his own against Soli’s punches and kicks.
Randolph gave Arn no choice about who he would be fighting that day. He threw his knife at Arn. Randolph was never much of a knife thrower, but Arn was only about ten feet away, and the knife slashed the man’s arm, slicing into the lower part of the deltoid. A blossom of red flowered on Arn’s beige tunic. Leather armor was only good for where it covered, after all. Arn’s arms between the shoulder and elbow were bare and indefensible.
It was enough to get Arn’s attention. He charged Randolph, hysterical with rage and anger at the sight of his dead brother. He grabbed Randolph by the hair and the arm. Randolph didn’t have time to draw his sword like he hoped to. Instead he did what he could to stay on his feet.
Arn pulled, trying to throw Randolph off balance, all the while frenziedly yelling and grunting. At first Randolph tried to pull his hair away from Arn, but the man wouldn’t relent. He was screaming at Randolph’s face, spitting into his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Randolph’s long hair had been used against him, but he would never cut it.
Behind them, Soli kept the dance strong against Raulo. Even through Arn’s screams, he could hear the clanging of their weapons. Every clash made him clench because it could have been Soli’s last. Randolph let go of Arn’s hand that was gripping his long hair. He pulled his arm back and struck Arn directly on the throat. With a sick crunch, the trachea collapsed under his knuckles. Randolph pulled his arm back again and punched Arn’s throat once more for good measure.
Arn gasped and tried to breathe, but it was as if the wind had been knocked out of him. No air entered his lungs. It couldn’t.
Randolph pulled himself free from Arn and kicked him down to the ground with one stomp of his foot onto the man’s kneecap. Arn kept convulsing as he tried to breath, but it was to no avail. Panic overtook the rage in his eyes, and all that was left in them was the pitiful realization of imminent death. Randolph wanted to punch him a few more times. He hated having his hair pulled, but he turned back to Soli, his hand going to the hilt of his four foot sword on his back.
Soli slashed with her axe, but Raulo parried it to the side. In that moment, Randolph recognized his moves. The man trained in the Avelinian army, just like Randolph had.
It was the sound of the blade being removed from its sheath that got Raulo’s attention. He turned to face Randolph but positioned himself to still be able to defend against Soli.
Randolph took a deep breath. Both of his hands were wrapped around the leather grip of his sword. “Let me save you the trouble. You trained just like I did—except I didn’t stop at the army. I know how you’re going to try to deflect my swing or my thrust, but it isn’t going to work. Instead I’m going to anticipate what you’re going to do, and I’m going to cut you in half. Your shit armor can’t stop this when I swing. Best scenario for you if you fight me? I break your spine and leave you here.” Randolph stepped closer. He put his left leg forward and right leg back at an angle, giving him a stable center of gravity to fight Raulo.
Raulo looked at the dead Justino and the dying Arn, and he backed away a few paces. “There’s no need for that. You win.” He took a few more cautious steps away before he turned his back on Soli and Randolph, and then he ran down the street, disappearing down an alley. Randolph looked around him, making sure there were no other surprises lurking in the nearby alleys, but he saw no one else out.
“Are you okay?” asked Randolph. He lowered his sword into one hand, and stepped over to Soli.
She took his hand and breathed deep. “Yes, I am. It’s been a long while though.” She smiled at him. Her face was glowing. A thin layer of proud sweat covered her brow. “Thank you again.”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome. Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot then? Should I be planning on a fight every time we go for a walk?”
“Well, sometimes, I suppose!” She laughed. “Justino had been giving me problems for a while. I thought I had already taught him a lesson, but I suppose he didn’t learn.” She laced her fingers in between his.
Randolph smiled, feeling her warm, sweaty, soft fingers against his. “Well, I don’t mind. It keeps everything exciting. Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“All of my siblings were taught since we could walk—and Roed made sure I practiced.”
“Well, I could teach you a thing or two about how Avelinians fight, it’ll help you next time we go for a walk,” Randolph said with a chuckle.
“I would very much like that—if we could be discreet about it.”
“Of course,” said Randolph. Soli was breathing heavy, and he watched her chest rise and fall with her breath. “It’ll be our secret,” he whispered. Her lips were parted, and he could see the white of her teeth behind the red of her flushed lips.
“Good.” She let go of his hand and walked over to Justino. “What are we going to do about all this?” She motioned to Justino and Arn.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make all this right. The whole problem will disappear.” He could still feel the damp warmth of her fingers on his.
“How?” She was incredulous.
“It’s just part of what I do. I handle things for Jae, and, because of my position, I get a certain amount of discretion. As far as I’m concerned, these thugs were robbing us, and we are both residents of the Reinout estate. That alone is a death sentence.” He stared at her red, warm, excited lips. “They would have gotten worse treatment if they lived: a life of prison and torture on principle alone. Jae accepts no transgressions against the Reinouts.” He sheathed his sword.
“You do this for him, then? You kill people?” She furrowed her forehead.
“Not really.” He stepped closer to her, suddenly feeling too far away from her. “I just protect the Reinout’s interests. I usually just throw people in prison. But, sweetheart, they’re bad people. They’re people like Justino over there. The man you killed.”
She looked at Justino for a silent moment, and then she went to one knee. She whispered to him, what she said Randolph couldn’t hear, and then she ripped the axe from his chest with one pull. “You are a good man, right?” she asked Randolph.
He paused for a moment, stunned by the question. “Yes,” he whispered. “I think I am. I try to... I want to be.”
Soli cleaned her bloodied axe off on Justino’s burlap sling. Randolph could see that there was a knotted design along the handle of a great wyrm. “You said your parents trained you to fight?” he asked.
“Yes. They were good teachers. But it wasn’t just them; we had a few others who would tutor us in warfare.” There was still more blood along the handle that had sunk into the silver inlay. She pulled the sling free and worked it into the grooves with her fingernails.
“Did they give y
ou those too?”
Soli faltered for a second, but then returned to her cleaning. “No. They did not give them to me, but they were my father’s.”
“He has expensive taste.” Randolph walked back to his knife lying near Arn.
Soli murmured something while she continued to remove every speck of blood from the axe.
“What?” asked Randolph after he retrieved his knife. He wiped it on Arn’s unbloodied sleeve before sliding it back into its sheath.
“Had,” Soli whispered.
“What?”
Soli turned to Randolph. She spoke slowly and loudly so he could hear. “Not has. He’s dead.”
“Right. I’m sorry. I know you mentioned you didn’t have anyone…left.”
“It is fine.” She threw the bloodied burlap onto Justino’s corpse. The axe wasn’t perfectly cleaned, but it was the best one could do with coarse burlap, Randolph supposed.
Randolph put his hand out to her. “May I?”
She hesitated, but then she handed him the axe she just finished cleaning. “It’s all I have left.”
Randolph took it. He traced his finger along the helve. The engravings were smooth, and the flawlessly incorporated steel reinforcements along it made it stronger than any axe he had touched in the past. “Beautiful,” he told it.
Soli smiled. “It is.” She tenderly took it back from him. “I keep them locked in a velvet lined box, made just for them—to keep them safe.”
“I doubt you could hurt them.” Randolph chuckled.
“Yes, but they’re very particular. I don’t want others to see them.”
“Because they would steal them?” asked Randolph.
“Possibly.”
“Such a shame, those beauties deserve some fresh air every now and then. It’s not right for something like that to be cooped up.”
“When I finally go home, they can be out with me every day.” She gave a sad smile.
Soli opened the large backpack that Randolph bore and removed the wooden box. She opened it and lovingly placed the axes back inside. The sun glinted off of them, and she looked ashamed when she closed the box, leaving them to isolated darkness. She returned the box back into the bag and looked at the two corpses that she and Randolph had created.
