Conrad Starguard-The Radiant Warrior

by Leo Frankowski

  Dirty smoke was rising above Toszek, and we could hear screams and shouts. I knew that people were dying while we blundered around. Yet if we went in like a mob, trained soldiers could cut us to rags!

  When the men were all in position and understood that they were to advance when called, keeping the men on either side in sight, Sir Lestko, Tadaos the bowman, and I went into the town. I'd brought Tadaos along to help provide meat for the camp, but I had other uses for him now.

  A few dozen peasants were standing some distance away, cowed and frightened. In the middle of the square, eight stakes had been set in a line, and tied to them, slumping, were the burnt bodies of eight women. Three dozen soldiers and some priests stood around them.

  The clothes and hair are the first things to burn, and I think that some of the thrill these filthy bastards got was watching the clothes burn off the women.

  Tadaos rode his mule to the side of a shed, stood up on its back and climbed to the roof, where he could cover the square with his longbow.

  Sir Lestko and I were actually in the square before the soldiers noticed us. Soldiers? The assholes didn't even have sentries out! Women had died because I had overestimated the opposition. I made a solemn vow to myself that next time there was trouble, I was going to just charge straight in and let the chips fly any way they would.

  "You people are all under arrest!" I shouted. "You are outnumbered five to one and we have you surrounded! Drop your weapons and raise your hands!"

  The soldiers and priests looked at each other, confused. They started babbling to one another in something that might have been Spanish, but which I didn't understand.

  "Don't any of you bastards speak Polish? Speak up or we'll shoot you down!"

  "I speak a little, knight. What is it you want?" An older priest said in very broken Polish.

  "Want? I want you to drop your weapons and raise your hands! Tell them that in whatever tongue you speak, or I'll have the lot of you killed right now for resisting arrest!"

  He hesitated a bit and then announced something to the crowd. One of the soldiers shouted something and drew his sword. He got one step closer to me before a steel tipped arrow tore through his throat. Tadaos was on the ball.

  "That's one, you old fart! Anybody else want to play target practice? Tell them to drop their weapons!"

  There was some more shouting that I couldn't understand. These murderers acted as though they were doing the most natural thing in the whole world, and that I was a strange person for intruding on them!

  "You're taking too long, old man! I said that you are under arrest! You men surrounding the town! Advance slowly with your axes high!"

  My men came up between the houses and barns, looking less sure of themselves than I would have wished.

  "Last chance, old man! Surrender or die!"

  There was still more unintelligible shouting. Then two soldiers dropped their swords, but three more drew theirs and charged me. Two went down quickly with arrows in their throats, but the third arrow missed, to bury itself in the chest of a priest standing behind. I had been so overconfident of Tadaos's shooting that I hadn't even drawn my own sword. The soldier was only a pace from me as my blade cleared its scabbard, but I needn't have worried.

  Anna kicked the man in the face with a forehoof. There was a satisfying crunch and he crumbled into the dirt.

  I tried to act as though I'd expected that. Pointing with my sword, as if that was the reason I'd drawn it, I said, "Form them into a line along there. Search them carefully for weapons!"

  Of course, the enemy had still not surrendered, but I was using what a capitalist salesman calls an "assumed close." Pretend that your opponents will do what you want them to do, and maybe they'll do it.

  They didn't.

  Another soldier drew his sword, one of the plumbers took a clumsy chop at him with a pickaxe, and missed. A second soldier stabbed the plumber in the arm and was struck by a carpenter's axe.

  A general melee broke out. They had swords and armor, but we outnumbered them two to one and were not much more disorganized. We had two men mounted while they were all on foot. And we had Tadaos.

  His last dozen arrows streaked into the center of their mass, hollowing it out. I saw Sir Lestko take out three soldiers, and Anna and I hopped around, looking busy.

  At one point a group of soldiers threw down their weapons, but my workers didn't have brains enough to accept their surrender. Or maybe they didn't understand what was happening. In any event, two unarmed soldiers were cut down with axes before I could disengage and get over there. The rest of the soldiers naturally picked up their swords again and the fight went on, costing me two of my own men that didn't have to die.

  Then suddenly it was over. In front of the eight smoldering bodies lay those of four priests, nineteen soldiers, three masons, two carpenters, and a blacksmith, besides numerous wounded.

  Piotr was standing nearby with a strange smile on his face and blood on his axe. He had killed his man, which is the other major rite of passage in this world.

  I had the surviving enemy stripped naked for fear of hidden weapons, then had them tied up and put in one of the barns under guard. Other men were assigned to guard the battlefield, because the peasants might loot it before we could properly share out the booty.

  I'd had the presence of mind to bring my medical kit with me, and naturally I took care of my own people before I bothered with the Castilians, for that's what they turned out to be.

  I had seven people in tourniquets and was sewing up an eighth, the man's leg laying on my lap, when Count Lambert rode up with a dozen knights. Sir Stefan was with them.

  "More of your witch's work, Sir Conrad?" Sir Stefan shouted.

  I ignored him and addressed Count Lambert. "Good afternoon, my lord. You'll forgive me if I don't stand."

  The dead still lay where they had fallen, and the burnt women were still tied to their stakes. Clothes, weapons, and blood lay thick about the village square.

  "Sir Conrad, what the hell goes on here?"

  "Well, my lord, the short of it was that Sir Lestko came to me and said that a bunch of foreigners were burning people to death. I came here and found it was true. I put them under arrest, but they resisted, with the result you see. The survivors are in that barn."

  "Dog's blood! Sir Conrad, you have the damndest talent for finding trouble! What was Baron Mieczyslaw doing while this was going on?"

  "Who, my lord?"

  "Baron Mieczyslaw. These are his lands. That's his castle over there. Where is he?"

  "I'm afraid I've never met the gentleman, my lord. I've only been here an hour myself."

  "Sir Lestko! Go with my men to the castle and see how matters stand there. Come back as soon as you may. I want to talk to the prisoners."

  Count Lambert went to the barn and I went back to my doctoring. I was an amateur, but I was the best available.

  Tadaos came back from helping secure the prisoners and started retrieving his arrows. "There's a lot of stuff laying around here, my lord," he said, gesturing to the booty scattered about.

  "You'll get your share. We'll sort it out once things settle down. That was some pretty good shooting. You probably saved my life."

  "I still owe you a few, my lord."

  "Except for that fourth shot, of course. Missing a man clean at only a hundred yards. I'm surprised at you." I tried to say it in a humorous way.

  Tadaos looked genuinely hurt. "That was an old arrow, my lord. A feather came loose as I let fly. The glue must have gone bad."

  "I was only joking. Those things happen. Look, when you finish up with that, count the bodies, get the men together, and dig some graves. But leave things here as they are for a while. Count Lambert might want another look."

  I was finishing up with the last of our men when Count Lambert came back. "Sir Conrad, do you realize that some of those prisoners are priests?"

  "I know that some of them were wearing priest's robes and have their heads shaved,
my lord. I believe they are impostors. Real priests don't fight and real priests don't commit murder."

  "That's true enough. Still, you can't be too careful. What do you advise we do?"

  "Well, I suppose we ought to hold a trial, my lord. We have to find out what these people were doing here, and why they seemed to think they could get away with committing murder in broad daylight and in public. For all we know, there could be other bands like this around."

  "Yes. We'll do it in the morning, once we've all had a chance to think." He was walking up the line of burnt bodies. "These were all old women."

  "Except for the one on the end, my lord. She might have been sixteen, but it's pretty hard to tell."

  "Dog's blood. How could anybody do something so . . . so . . ."

  "Evil, my lord?"

  "I think that's the word I wanted, but it doesn't seem bad enough. Well. Have your men clean up the mess here, and distribute the spoils as you see fit. I don't want any of it. It seems unclean."

  Sir Lestko came up with six knights.

  "Count Lambert, the castle was empty save for Baron Mieczyslaw. All of the servants seem to have run off. I left half your men there to secure the place."

  "Good. You other knights, go to that barn and relieve the peasants securing the prisoners. Sir Maciej will be in charge. Sir Lestko, what of the baron?"

  "My lord, the baron is in a very bad way. He cannot speak. He is bedridden and cannot move half his body. It is very strange. It's as though a line were drawn from head to navel, right down the middle of his face. All that is to the left of that line is cold and insensitive. It's as if he were half dead."

  "Dog's blood! That smacks of witchcraft!"

  "No, my lord, that smacks of a stroke," I said. "It's a common enough malady among the very aged. Is the baron very old?"

  "Very. He served my grandfather," Count Lambert said.

  "That explains it, then. You probably don't see much of it around here because you all die so young of other things first. It's all too common where I come from."

  "I see. Can anything be done for him?"

  "Not really, my lord. In time, he may regain some of his faculties, but until then he must be tended like a baby. There are a few women back with my baggage. I'll send two of them up to the castle to tend him until someone permanent can be found. But beyond that, there isn't much that I can do."

  I had the baggage train brought up and sent two mature women to tend the baron. Taking care of a stroke victim is hardly a job to dump on a squeamish young girl.

  Our field kitchen was set up, and Krystyana got a meal going. Some of the carpenters dismantled a shed to make coffins for our dead and the burnt women. The Castilians were simply thrown naked into a pit, the general consensus being that they didn't deserve any better.

  When we tried to find the village priest to hold the funeral services, we discovered that his was among the dead bodies in the pit. Somehow, he had gone over to the enemy. We had to send a man to the next village to get someone to do the burial services.

  Sir Lestko said that he didn't want any part of the booty either, so I told my people that those who had killed an enemy would get first pick of souvenirs.

  "Just weapons, now. Any money and jewels will be divided up evenly later. Tadaos, you did yeoman service today. You get first pick. Piotr, I saw your axe bloody. You go next. The rest of you, well, you know who you are. Get in line. The others will keep you honest."

  Piotr took a handsome sword with silver mountings and a matching dagger, while Tadaos found a pair of weapons that had plain steel mountings but very good quality blades. The differences in their characters, I suppose.

  I saw Piotr looking proudly at Krystyana, but she just looked away.

  After they were through, I had the others, including those who had stayed with the baggage, take their choice, and had to be reminded about the women tending the baron. Their husbands chose for them.

  As for the rest, I kept the armor for myself, not being as proud as certain others, and we added their horses and mules to our own. They had a surprising amount of money with them, surprising until you realize that there were no banks or travelers' checks in this world. If you were traveling, you had to carry all your money with you in cash, which made for a highwayman's heaven.

  Every one of my people got almost three month's pay.

  But the real surprise was the church vestments and altar furnishings in their luggage. I began to worry that maybe these really were priests. But even if they were, they were still murderers, so I earmarked the religious things for our church at Three Walls.

  Who knows? Maybe they looted a church.

  By dusk, there was some semblance of order in the village and the villagers were starting to filter back in. Some of them had been in the woods for days.

  Krystyana, Natalia, Natasha, and I were invited to the castle for supper, only to discover that they were down to field rations up there. Dried meat and dry bread and not much of that. When the servants had run off, they stripped the larder.

  There was plenty of extra food down at our field kitchen, many of the men not being hungry after their first experience with combat. I sent down for some, and none of the nobility complained about eating the leftovers of the commoners. None, that is, except for Sir Stefan. But after insulting the food, he ate his share. I got to ignoring him as just a bad noise.

  Count Lambert was unusually taciturn that evening, and that put something of a damper on things. Questioning him, I found that he'd been notified by a boy from the village. A twelve-year-old kid had run from Toszek to Okoitz, a distance of four dozen miles, in a single afternoon and night, getting to Count Lambert at dawn. He had come immediately.

  "In my land, that kid would get a medal," I said.

  "And what might that be?" Sir Bodan said.

  "It's sort of like a very large coin that is hung from a ribbon pinned to the tunic over the heart, or hung around the neck. It's given as an honor to those that have done some exceptional deed for the good of the community or state. They are of bronze or silver or even of gold, depending on the degree of the honor. Each branch of our military has several of these, ranging from mere participation in a campaign to one for outstanding valor."

  "Interesting. So in your land a man may not dress as he chooses?" Sir Lestko said.

  "Not at all. A person's clothing is up to him, except that certain professions and the military wear uniform clothing when on duty. It's just that someone wearing a medal that he had not earned would be a laughingstock when he was found out."

  "You said, 'each branch of the service,' " Count Lambert said. "You have more than one kind of fighting man?"

  "There are three, my lord. An army for fighting on land, a navy for fighting on the seas, and an air force."

  "So you fight in the skies as well! Which was your branch?"

  "I am an officer in the air force, my lord."

  "Then you fought in the skies!"

  "No, my lord. My duty was to oversee the maintenance of certain equipment, and during my four years of active duty, we were not at war. Not one man in a hundred was actually on flying duty."

  "That must have been frustrating."

  "The job had to be done. 'They also serve who only stand and wait.' "

  "Well. There is the question of Baron Mieczyslaw. Sir Conrad says that it will be long before he can again perform his duties, if ever.

  "My grandfather raised the baron to his rank for valor, but the fact was that his lands were not enough to support any subordinate knights. And while outstanding in combat, the baron drank and gambled to such an excess that it was never felt wise to enlarge his lands. He would only have wasted them.

  "Further, he never took a wife, and has neither child nor near relative. His lands therefore escheat to me, yet I would not have him deposed, for as I said, he served my grandfather well. Therefore, someone must act as caretaker here, to be lord in all but in name.

  "Sir Lestko, you have been in my county
for four years, yet you have not actually sworn to me or mine, but have merely attached yourself to Baron Casimir."

  "Ah, my lord. In truth, I am more attached to Baron Casimir's daughter," Sir Lestko said.

  "So I had heard. Being lord of a barony might improve your suit. If you would swear to me, I would put you in charge of the lands and castle here. Baron Mieczyslaw will be lord in name until his death. Should he die, you will be invested with his lands, but will not be made baron. That title was in a way only honorary here, and dies with the man.

  "Should the baron live and again be able to do his duties, I will see to it that you are rewarded with greater lands elsewhere. What say you?"

  "I will do it gladly, my lord."

  "Good. We'll swear you in tomorrow as soon as the sun is high. Do not be kind to the villagers here, for they have allowed harm to be done to their lord and to their fellows. The castle servants have robbed and abandoned their lord in time of his dire need. The least of them deserves a severe whipping, and you have my permission to hang those you see fit.

  "Sir Conrad, you once talked of the manner of your people concerning trials. I would see how it is done. You will be in charge of tomorrow's trial. I shall be judge and these noblemen shall be jury. The other offices you shall appoint yourself. Have it ready by midmorning.

  "For now, I am tired, and I wish you all good night. Sir Bodan will set up the guard schedule."

  Later, I saw Natasha going to Count Lambert's room. The girls seemed to think that it would be most improper—and a waste—for him to have to sleep alone.

  The next morning, after Sir Lestko was sworn in, I explained the duties of prosecutor and defender, and appointed Sir Bodan to be the defending attorney, since he was articulate and seemed to be the most sympathetic toward the prisoners. I removed Sir Lestko from the jury, since he was a witness, and found bailiffs among my own people. Natalia acted as court recorder.

  I took the role of prosecutor myself, and Sir Bodan and I spent the morning interviewing witnesses, until Count Lambert sent down and told us to get on with it. In the Middle Ages, trials were often over in minutes, and justice suffered.