Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  “You’ll hear me in your head if shit goes wonky,” he said as he started his climb.

  Astrid and Moxy headed toward the Toll Road while Tarkon and Vinnie turned toward the keep. Astrid stopped dead in her tracks when she peeked out of the brush by the side of the road and saw Alisa swinging from the lamp post in a gentle morning breeze.

  Two guards passed each other not too far away. They stopped to exchange words.

  “Damn it,” the tall guard said. “I looked up.”

  “How can you not look?” the shorter one replied. “She was just nineteen years old.”

  “Try not to think about it,” the tall one said.

  “Fuck you, Arthur” shorty said. “Don’t think about it… ” he mocked. “How can I not think about that?”

  “I don’t know, Marty. What else can I say?” Arthur stared down at his feet and let his crossbow hang by his side. “This shit ain’t right, what the Lieutenant did. She should have gotten jail time. We’re supposed to uphold the law. But this… ”

  “I want to quit,” Marty said. “But they’d probably evict my family. Like they did Pleth. How can I look my wife in the eyes now? I can barely face my kids. They think I’m a good guy. Aren’t we supposed to be good guys?”

  Astrid heard enough. She stepped out into the road and held out her hands. She thought about drawing from the Well, but didn’t want to scare them. Moxy took to the trees and scurried through the branches, stopping above the guards.

  “You can let us take her down,” Astrid said, voice calm and even. “We’ll take her to her family for a proper burial.”

  The guards practically stumbled over each other and raised their crossbows in their trembling arms.

  “St—stop!” Marty stammered. “You’re under arrest.”

  Astrid raised her hands till they were even with her shoulders. “I’ve done nothing but defend myself and keep innocent people safe. That sounds a lot like what you want to do.”

  “You murdered Jank’s men at the day camp and stole the tribute,” Arthur said, raising his crossbow.

  Astrid glanced at Moxy, who hung upside down with the backs of her knees gripping a branch. She had her blowpipe ready. Astrid shook her head every-so-slightly and said, “Those men were torturing an innocent person. They were going to rape my friend. They didn’t carry tribute, they carried plunder. They took more than their tribute from Blue Creek, where they did rape a woman.”

  The short one lowered his crossbow. “I heard rumors,” he said. “But I thought they were just that. We’re not like that.”

  “You don’t have to keep looking the other way,” Astrid said. “I know the forces arrayed against you are vast. I know you feel powerless. But you have something much more powerful.”

  Arthur lowered his crossbow and listened.

  “You have heart. I heard it just now,” Astrid said. “You know that a lot of shit happens around here that just isn’t right.”

  “It’s not enough,” the shorter guard said.

  “Maybe not now,” Astrid said. “But soon. You’ll know when. I’m sure you’re not alone.”

  “I’ll be back with a blanket for her,” Arthur said, turning back toward the keep.

  “I’ll cut her down,” Marty said. “Though it will probably mean my family goes homeless.”

  “Fuck that,” Arthur said. “You come stay with me if that happens.” He jogged down the road.

  Moxy was already moving. She jumped from the trees to the lamp post, landing on two feet, balanced perfectly.

  “What the fuck is that!” the guard exclaimed, raising his crossbow.

  “She’s a friend!” Astrid said, lunging forward and gently nudging the crossbow down.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” the guard said. “This is crazy.”

  “No,” Astrid said. “This is sane. You know what’s right. I heard you.”

  “I still have a job to do,” the guard said.

  “I know you do,” Astrid replied.

  “Take her, but if I see you again—if you try to interfere with the tribute… I’ll… I mean… I’m still a Civil Guard… ”

  “One thing at a time,” Astrid said. “Stand back.”

  Moxy took out a thin blade and crouched down to cut the rope. “Ready?” she asked.

  Astrid nodded her head then stood beneath the body while Moxy cut the rope. She caught Alisa easily and laid her down on the dirt road.

  “Oh shit… ” the guard said, looking away. “That’s so wrong. I fucking hate Clarence.”

  The other guard came back with the blanket. “Be quick about it,” he said. “When you leave, I have to raise the alarm. I’ll give you a head start.”

  “What?” Marty said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Think about it. It’s the only way to cover our asses,” Arthur said. “We have to be the ones to raise the alarm.”

  “He’s right,” Astrid said, wrapping Alisa in the horse blanket. She scooped up the body and gently placed it over her shoulder. “It’s the only way. Give us ten minutes.”

  She and Moxy slipped away into the woods. They found the tree where Gormer stood watch. He scurried back down the trunk cursing along the way.

  “You got her?” Gormer asked. “How… ”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Astrid said.

  “The others are on the way back,” Moxy said, lifting her long, thin nose to the wind.

  “Meet them at the horses like we planned,” Astrid said.

  They heard bells ringing. Horns sounded. Voices shouted as they slipped through the woods toward the horses. Vinnie and Tarkon showed up a few minutes later and they rode back to Argan quickly.

  The sun was just rising when they rode back into town. A light fog clung to the fields and rolled around in the woods as the village stirred.

  One of the villagers came up to the five as they rode out of the misty forest. “Is that… ” she asked, pitchfork over her shoulder.

  “Yes,” Astrid said. “Would you please go find Woody?”

  The woman hurried toward the tents to get the bandit leader. Astrid brought Alisa down from the back of the horse and laid her down in the dewy grass.

  “Get that rope off her,” Tarkon hissed when Astrid unwrapped the body. “Don’t let Woody see that.”

  “Her neck,” Gormer said with a trembling voice after they removed the rope. Moxy quickly covered the horror by pulling up the collar of Alisa’s tunic.

  Astrid did her best to arrange her hair.

  Woody came slowly, with all of the bandits following close behind. They didn’t cry when they saw her. Their faces were hard.

  “Thank you,” was all Woody said when he bent down to touch her face.

  Astrid hid the rope behind her back. She gripped it hard until her palms dug into the coarse material. She knew what she would do with it as her heart pounded in her chest.

  The bandits carried her off and weren’t seen or heard from until dusk. Everyone worked in silence for the rest of the day. The bandits kept to themselves when they returned, offering only restrained responses to the sympathies of the villagers.

  Astrid and Vinnie took the first watch that night. They took turns standing at the well and patrolling the tree line. All Astrid could think about was the rope that Clarence used on Alisa.

  Keep 52

  Clarence paced the line of guards who were on duty the night before when Alisa was taken away. Officer Jank and Krann stood with sour faces opposite the line as Clarence walked between them, stopping in the middle to glare at them.

  Clarence pointed with his finger at each guard and made a show of counting. “Am I to understand,” he said, voice booming, “that twenty-seven guards on patrol last night saw nothing! Another forty men from the keep, when called upon, found nothing in the woods?”

  The guards shifted nervously on their tired feet. Clarence had kept them up and waiting long after their night shift ended.

  “Don’t answer all at once!” Clarence sh
outed. Nobody said a word. “Alright, then!” he continued. “You two, the guards who sounded the alarm!”

  He pointed to the pair of guards who Astrid confronted the night before. The two men froze, wide-eyed. “You passed the dead bandit girl at 4 a.m. Then, at 4:30 a.m., you discovered the body missing.”

  “Y—yes sir,” the shorter guard said.

  “That’s right,” his larger companion added.

  Clarence strode up to them both and stood inches from them. He looked into their eyes, alternating between them, nose-to-nose. To their credit, they met his eyes and held them. Good, Clarence thought, displaying a little backbone just saved you pain.

  “I will tolerate no more mistakes!” Clarence boomed. “You are all docked two days pay. Any more incidents on your watch and I’ll fire the lot of you! Your families can go live with the bandits in the woods!”

  The guards breathed a collective sigh of relief that told Clarence they expected a lot worse. “Dismissed!” Clarence bellowed. The guards scurried away.

  “Jank,” Clarence said, turning to his business partner. “I want you to put a complement of men on duty for two shifts. I’ll add a rider to your contract.”

  “I’ll have to pull men from my operations in the South,” Jank said. Clarence raised an eyebrow. “I’ll send for them right away.”

  Jank rushed over to one of his men while Krann stood ramrod straight with his swagger stick stuck under his arm. He glared brazenly at Clarence.

  “I take it you don’t approve,” Clarence said with a mocking smile.

  “Your rank permits you to command my men,” Krann said.

  Clarence laughed. “Yes, old man. It certainly does. But you imply that Keep 52 is yours.”

  “I am a humble steward,” Krann said.

  “You are far from humble, Krann,” Clarence sneered. “Go scribble figures in your little lined books.” Clarence waved his hand. Krann gave a curt nod and stomped off.

  Clarence flexed and stretched his fingers, making the black leather of his gloves creak. He was secretly glad for the incident from the night before. He was looking for any excuse to take more control from Krann and establish a better hold over the district.

  Argan Village

  Astrid excused herself from the harvest and slipped into the woods with the rope that was used to hang Alisa, stopping by the barrel maker to borrow some tools along the way.

  She worked for several hours stretching the rope and working on the hemp braids. Much time was spent going over every inch, making the twists even and combing the fibers until the rope was supple.

  When she was done, she wrapped it twice around her waist and looped one end around her left shoulder. She tucked the other end loosely into the coils at her waist. She carefully cut off the excess, then made her way back to the blacksmith.

  “I need to burn this,” she said, holding up the unused rope section.

  The blacksmith nodded to the forge, and Astrid threw the rope in without pause.

  “I wonder if you might do me a favor?” Astrid turned to the blacksmith.

  “If I’m able,” the man said, pausing in his work of making barrel straps.

  “Can you add metal ends to this rope? They should be shaped like the narrow part of an egg and have attachment points for the strands.” She held up the frayed rope end.

  The blacksmith’s daughter came over, and they looked at the rope together. “You’re making a rope weapon?” the girl asked.

  Astrid nodded her head. Father and daughter conferred for a while. “We can do it,” the blacksmith said. They stopped work on the barrels and decided to work on Astrid’s project as a family.

  “I’ll leave the rope with you,” Astrid said. She uncoiled it from her body and set it down carefully.

  She left the blacksmith’s shop and ran into Woody.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “I have word from two other tribes. They’re in.”

  “You don’t sound too happy about that,” Astrid said.

  “Well,” Woody replied, “They were a bit more receptive to village life than I thought. They want to camp with us in the field.”

  “There’s plenty of room,” Astrid said.

  “No,” Woody replied. “Space isn’t the issue. The tribes are… well, let’s just say we live in the woods apart from each other for a reason.”

  Astrid thought for a moment. “How big is your tribe?”

  “Woody smiled. You’ve only met fifteen of us. I have forty-eight more people living in the woods. We occupy a cave system about four miles from here.” He pointed off to the east to a rise in the hills.

  “And if this new tribe moves into Argan?”

  “I’ll have trouble answering to my people.”

  “I see,” Astrid said with a smile. “I have a solution for that.”

  “You do?” Woody asked, surprised.

  “Bring them in. We’ll keep them busy with the harvest. The rest we’ll put on patrol,” Astrid said.

  Woody looked dubious. “How will that help? They’re not going to start taking orders from you.”

  “They might,” Astrid said, “when we all work together on a raid. Vinnie heard last night that they’re collecting extra tribute from the surrounding villages. We’re going to hit some wagons and give that tribute back to the villages. We’ll do some taxing of our own and pay you out of that.”

  Woody gave a toothy grin. “One of us,” he said, and walked back to his camp with a spring in his step. A few minutes later, he sent scouts to bring word to the other bandit tribes.

  Meet the New Bandits

  After two more days of working in the fields, Woody found Astrid and a group of villagers running oats through a wood threshing wheel. Her former home didn’t use labor-saving devices like this. She suspected that being tradition-bound was a major reason that her father’s house fell to the New Way cult.

  “Astrid,” Woody said. His shout startled her from her musing. “You OK?”

  “Just lost in thought,” Astrid said. She turned to her work partners. “Sorry, I have other business.”

  “I have someone you should meet,” Woody said as he lead Astrid over to the stables.

  “Did your friends show up?”

  “I wouldn’t call him a ‘friend,’” Woody hedged. “He’s the leader of a bandit clan near the border. He brought some of his people.”

  “Why do you sound hesitant so suddenly?”

  “Meet him. You’ll figure it out.”

  Astrid tried not to let Woody’s evasion bother her as they rode out to the meeting place. That turned out to be a small clearing in a hollow near a partially-frozen pond.

  “This is where we sometimes meet to settle tribal disputes,” Woody said.

  Astrid dismounted opposite the clearing from a tall man with broad shoulders and thick, bulging arms. He wore no sleeves in spite of the cold. Eight men and four women stood behind him, all looking hard and ready to fight.

  “She looks like a farm girl,” the man said. “This is no warrior.”

  Astrid strode up to the man and met his eyes without blinking. It was refreshing to meet someone a bit taller than her.

  “My name is Astrid,” she said in a neutral voice. She stuck out her hand.

  The man scoffed and sneered. He kept eye contact with Astrid, but spoke directly to Woody. “You’re wasting my time with this shit. Maybe I should just raid Argan while I’m here to make this worth my while.”

  “You wouldn’t want to do that,” Astrid said.

  “How the fuck do you know what I want?” the man said.

  “Why don’t you tell me your name, so I’ll know who I’m about to school?”

  The man’s eyes grew wide and color rose to his cheeks. The rest of his people stepped back nervously.

  “Don’t worry about my name, little woman,” the man said.

  He pushed her with two, huge hands. As usual, Astrid saw it coming. She fought against a smirk and let the shove come. She gave him
a quick jab in the nose as she let herself drop back.

  The man barely flinched. Astrid knew this game well. With the preamble over, it was time to have some fun.

  The bare-armed bandit wiped the blood from his nose. “So, you want to fight like a man? I’ll give you a fight.”

  He lunged forward with surprising speed. She let him land a left cross to her jaw. Everyone gasped. When he followed through with a right hook, she stepped in, blocked his arm and gave him a left cross of her own.

  Her punch landed on his cheek with a meaty slap-thud. The bandit staggered back and shook his head to clear it.

  “You call that a lesson?” Astrid taunted. “You must be used to fighting your own shadow.”

  The man lunged again with a bellow of rage. A flurry of wild punches clipped her chin once, glanced barely off her right cheek, and merely tickled her nose. She blocked the worst of it.

  Just when she was beginning to enjoy what she considered play fighting, the man dropped back on his heel. When he came forward again, he did so with a high roundhouse kick that Astrid barely ducked.

  “Oh, it’s on, now, pigfucker,” Astrid said.

  She jumped forward, planted her feet, then executed a near perfect reverse spin kick. He ducked it.

  “You’ve been toying with me!” Astrid shouted, only half mad, but seriously annoyed.

  “Not as bad as you’ve been toying with me,” the man said. “Let’s do this for real.”

  Astrid still didn’t need to draw from the Well, but he gave her a run for her money.

  She lunge-kicked him in the gut, and he came back at her with a surprise foot sweep. When she jumped to avoid it, he was right there with a right/left combination that landed hard on her chin and cheek.

  She ended it with an elbow to his jaw. When his head spun around with the force of the hit, she grabbed his shoulders with both hands and brought her knee to his gut.

  Astrid danced back, ready for the next round. The big man held up his hand, then lifted his head. A huge, bloody grin spread across his face.

  “My name is George,” he said. “That was the best fight I’ve had in a long time.”

  Astrid stepped forward and carefully reached out a hand. George seized her hand hard and pulled himself up. She drew back her opposite fist and raised her eyebrows.