The Age of Heroes

by Scott J Robinson

  Weaver thought for a moment. “Of course. You threw your sword up into the air and when the beast watched, it was blinded by the sun for a moment.”

  “Right. Same thing. Except this time I ran in and stabbed it with my staff.”

  “You used a second sword on the mistamil.”

  “I didn’t have a second sword this time. Just my staff.”

  “Of course, of course. Just like old times, hey, Rawk.”

  “Then it fell on me,” Rawk said. That bit was true.

  Weaver nodded but wasn’t paying attention. “Maybe I should get a secret passage. I want to fight those creatures that threaten our good people. I want to get out there with you.”

  “Well, get digging.”

  “I have people to do that kind of thing for me.”

  “Not much of a secret then, is it?” Rawk sighed. “Anyway, you’re too late.”

  “Too late for what? There could be other things out there. Dragons or... I don’t know. Anything.”

  “Yes, but I’ve retired.”

  “What? When?”

  “Just before you arrived. I’m done.”

  “But... You can’t.”

  “Yes, I can. I just did.”

  “No, seriously, you can’t. This is what we were talking about, the good old days coming back again. When being a Hero meant something. When there were real Heroic deeds to be done. You can’t just quit when it’s all coming good.” Weaver leaned forward in his chair. “I need you to go and see if there are any more trolls.”

  Rawk wasn’t sure he’d heard properly. His eyes narrowed. “Not long ago you were complaining about the last one that I killed. Send Hawk Squad out there.”

  “The people are already starting to worry. They are talking as if there’s a whole... flock... army...”

  “I think trolls come in packs, but these ones might not be trolls anyway.”

  “Either way, there was almost a riot south of the river yesterday. I had to send in the Guard. If I send Hawk Squad out into the forest again that will just stir everything up more.”

  “So, you want me to sneak out and see what I can see?”

  “You don’t have to sneak. You’re Rawk, you do all sorts of crazy things.”

  Rawk shook his head. “No, thank you.”

  “I’ll double the bounty.”

  “Double nothing is still nothing.”

  “Triple. And I’ll pay a thousand ithel even if you don’t find anything.”

  “Look—”

  “Just this one more time. If there’s nothing there, you can retire.”

  “I can retire now. I could have retired just before you turned up if I’d wanted... Oh, wait, I did.”

  “The city needs you, Rawk.”

  “It does not.”

  “One last time. You know I’ll keep annoying you until I get what I want.”

  Rawk sighed. He knew Weaver was telling the truth. He wouldn’t get a moment of peace. “Oh, all right. I’ll go and have a look tomorrow.”

  “Good. Excellent.”

  “Triple the bounty.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You bloody well did.”

  Weaver held up a hand. “All right. Triple.”

  Before the Prince had even left the room, Rawk decided he really would be crazy to go out into the forest on his own when there could be a whole family of duen waiting for him. He’d share the glory, and the money. That was a very grown up thing to do. Travis and Sylvia would be proud. He’d have a quick look at the newspaper then see what he could organize.

  The story about Celeste and her damn dwarf brother was on the back page. There was a sketch of the two of them and everything. “Mount Grace’s own Celeste and Grint are making a name for themselves on the north side of the river. The manager of the Veteran’s Club, a venue that rivals even Harker’s Hall, has asked them back for another week. Rumor has it that they may be moved into the main theatre and tickets sold to non-members for the first time in living memory.

  “It is interesting to see non-humans being acknowledged like this but only time will tell if this recognition extends to other areas.”

  -O-

  Rawk was taking a shortcut through an alley when he heard a noise behind him. He knew who it was before he even turned around. “Hello, Edwin. I’ve been expecting you.”

  Adalee’s father was a short man with a bald patch on the top of his head and too much weight around the middle. If he’d ever been in an alley before it was only because he’d been lost.

  He nodded. “We need to have a word.”

  Rawk looked pointedly at the two men standing at Edwin’s back. They looked like they knew quite a bit about alleys. One was a huge, with wild hair and a crooked nose. The other was tall and slim and had a scar on his cheek. At least they were carrying cudgels, not knives and swords. Rawk heard a noise in the other direction. He didn’t bother turning to count. Two or three at most. Rawk had Dabaneera; he thought he could take them, one way or the other. “A word?”

  Edwin nodded. “You can think of Havin and his friends as punctuation marks, if you like.”

  Rawk couldn’t help but smile. “That’s nice. I like it.”

  A smile fluttered at the corner of Edwin’s mouth as well.

  “Before you speak though, may I say something?”

  Edwin shook his head and motioned to his followers. “Don’t kill him, Havin. Just embarrass him. A lot.”

  Rawk drew his sword. “I don’t want to kill anyone,” he said. He’d heard about Havin. The man was supposed to be good at his job.

  Scar Face rushed forward but he was only a decoy. Rawk ignored him. He ducked and spun, hitting the man behind him with the flat of his sword. Then back to the decoy. The other man was standing still, looking surprised, and Rawk took the opportunity to slash him across the thigh, just enough for some pain and blood. In the noisy, cursing moments that followed, Rawk got his back against the wall. He cleared a circle on the rough, dark cobbles, kicking away trash so he wouldn’t trip. Something had died there recently. His efforts set free a terrible stench that seemed to fill the narrow space in an instant.

  “Do you think I lived this long by being bad at what I do?” he asked Havin, trying to gain some extra time. He shifted his grip on his sword; his hand was slick with sweat.

  The big man grunted but gave a grudging nod of respect. Rawk wouldn’t be able to surprise them again. Three to go. Four if you counted Edwin, but that remained to be seen.

  Two more came at him slowly, one from each side.

  “I know Yardi Kepeta,” Rawk said to Edwin, watching the men, trying to learn as much as he could in the few moments he had.

  “So?” Edwin looked suspicious.

  “I was talking to her about the Melaworth contracts.” Rawk darted forward and slapped at a hand. The thug yelped and dropped his cudgel. He probably wouldn’t be holding anything at all for a while.

  Havin was about to join the fight, looking none to pleased at the prospect, but Edwin held up a jewel-encrusted hand. His cheek twitched. “And what?”

  “I could have a word with her. We’ve been friends for about fifty years.” Rawk tried to slow his breathing.

  “But she has not gotten to where she is by doing favors.”

  “I’m not guaranteeing she’ll listen but... She said your tender was really close.”

  Edwin signaled again and the two thugs stood down “How close?”

  Rawk shrugged and Edwin gave the matter some thought.

  “I could... Will she listen if I take an ithel per ton off the storage price?”

  “The way she was talking, that would probably be enough to get you across the line.”

  “But the tenders have closed.”

  “Fifty years.”

  “And if it isn’t enough?”

  “Well, you can take it on trust that I tried, or you can go look up Havin again. And find some extra men.”

  Edwin rubbed at his bald pate. “Path.” He didn’t l
ook happy. “Thank you for your time, Havin. Take your men and go.”

  “We’re getting paid?”

  “Of course.”

  Havin and his companion helped the casualties from the alley and Rawk wondered if he should send them in Sylvia’s direction.

  “You were winning, Rawk,” Edwin said when they were alone.

  “I know. I usually do.” He didn’t think he would have beaten Havin, not without killing him.

  “Then why?”

  “I wasn’t trying to offend anyone or make enemies. I can understand that you would be upset, so I wanted to try to work something out without resorting to violence.” Which is about the first time that has ever happened. “If I had known who Adalee was, I can assure you I wouldn’t have—”

  “You would have found someone else’s daughter?”

  Rawk thought Edwin was being a little unfair. He never forced the women to go to bed with him. He usually didn’t have to work all that hard at all. “Probably, yes. And probably nobody would have been offended.” He wasn’t about to say that the girl had come looking for him. It wasn’t the type of thing a father wanted to hear.

  “So, I get the contract and you stay away from my daughter?”

  “Of course.”

  Edwin looked around, rubbed his head again. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough if I’m lying.”

  “Do you know how much that contract it worth?”

  “Not a clue.”

  He gave a small, thoughtful nod. “I don’t like you, Rawk.”

  “You don’t have to. And just in case, I’ll make sure the contract makes mention of my health.”

  “I’m a man of my word.”

  “I believe you. So am I.”

  Edwin’s face was hard and cold. “This doesn’t get back my daughter’s honor.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  He walked out of the alley without looking back. Rawk drew in a deep breath and almost choked on the stench of death. It wasn’t his death though, so that was a good thing. Not today, he muttered. Tomorrow, probably. He needed to find some help. He didn’t look back either, as he left the alley. He kept his pace to a slow, measured walk. He kept his shaking hand on the hilt of his sword.

  -O-

  Rawk stepped into the foyer and smiled at Barin.

  The big man smiled back. “Back again.”

  “I need to talk to some of your members.”

  “That sounds interesting.” He pointed through the door in the left corner. “There’s a common room and refectory through that direction. Probably the best place to find people who are willing to talk.”

  “I thought I might join first. Is that all right? I know I’m not a Veteran but...”

  “You can join, but it will cost more than it does for a veteran and you don’t get as many discounts. Through that way.” He pointed to the door on the other side.

  Rawk went where indicated, stepping through into a small office.

  An attractive woman, about forty years old, sat behind a counter. She smiled when she saw him. “Rawk?” She rose to her feet and unconsciously straightened her hair. “My name is Maris. I didn’t think I’d ever see you in here.”

  Rawk smiled back at her. “Well, Maris, my friend brought me the other day and I like the place. So I thought I might come a bit more often.”

  Maris smiled and straightened her dress as well, revealing just a little bit more cleavage in the process. “You like it?”

  He nodded. “I’m liking it more all the time. So, what do I have to do to join?”

  She pulled out a sheet of paper. “You have to fill this in... I could do that for you, if you just gave me the details.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” He gave a silent sigh of relief. The writing looked very small. “You probably couldn’t read my writing anyway.”

  When the forms were complete and Rawk had handed over ten ithel for one year’s membership the woman concentrated on straightening her desk.

  “Well, Maris, thank you for your help. I imagine I will be seeing you when I come to visit.”

  “Yes. I imagine. That would be nice. I mean...”

  Rawk nodded and left with a single glance back. She was watching him. Nice indeed. He didn’t spend a lot of time with women like Maris, with women as old as Maris, but he would be willing to make an exception.

  Across the other side of the foyer he found himself in a wide, long hallway. Battle murals were painted on both walls, all the way from one end of the hall to the other. They were two stories high, life-sized, and the detail was stunning. Mud and blood. The glint of steel. Crows circling in the distance. A gaping wound here, a killing stroke there. A quiet moment of calm amidst the frenzy. A look of panic in a horse’s eye, a look of resignation in a soldier’s. Because they were so close— it was just a hallway and he couldn’t get away— Rawk felt as if he was almost in the battle.

  The silence was eerie. A battle should be noisy, deafening, the screams and the clash of weapons, the suck and squelch of mud underfoot, the wordless shouts. With the mural crowding his eyes the lack of noise was unsettling. It knocked him off balance, tripped him up as he looked nervously around. His hand rested on the hilt of Dabaneera.

  At the first door on his left, Rawk was glad to step through into a refectory. On the right was a serving counter with half a dozen big pots sitting in a bed of hot coals. There were wooden bowls piled at one end and wooden spoons at the other. Near the latter was a huge pile of bread. Stew or stew for dinner, though at least there seemed to be a few to choose from. A man waited with a huge ladle and, near the spoons, a woman was taking money.

  The lunch crowd had long gone, or else there had never been one, and only a dozen men occupied the thirty or so available tables as dinner crawled ever closer. A few more could be seen out on the porch that over looked the street.

  Rawk looked at the two men sitting at the closest table and ruled them out. It looked as if they were veterans from the First Masaki War and probably hadn’t picked up a sword for the last twenty years. The next table looked more promising. Rawk knew one of the three men sitting there, talking over their empty bowls.

  “Galad,” Rawk said, sitting in the spare seat a moment later. He slapped the other man on the back. “How’s Heroism treating you?” Galad was good at the job. He was old enough to have been around before Weaver’s new laws took effect.

  He grunted. “Not as well as you, apparently.”

  “What do you expect if you sit around here all day?”

  “I hardly sit around here. I got back in from Redami about two hours ago. I spent a week looking for a halanar and when I found it, it had already died of old age.”

  “What’s wrong with that? An easy bounty.”

  “It would have been, except it died about two weeks earlier. More than long enough for it to be obvious.”

  “Oh.”

  “Exactly. ‘Oh.’ So I got nothing for my trouble. Then I get back home and discover I could have stayed here and had a wolden wolf and a troll.”

  Rawk held up two fingers.

  “Two trolls?” Galad shook his head. “You always were a lucky bastard, Rawk.”

  “I make my own luck, Galad. They probably aren’t trolls though. Duen giants, more likely. Who are your friends?”

  “This is Fabi.” He looked to be about same age as Galad—late thirties—with the dark skin of a southerner, a bald head and long beard. “He used to be in the army and now I’m just in the process of talking him out of taking up the Hero trade. And Thok.” Thok was younger than the other two and looked as if he would struggle to string a complete sentence together. He was as big as a bear, almost as hairy, and seemed to wear a constant, bemused expression.

  “So what do you do then, Thok?”

  He shrugged. “This and that. Mainly work down on the wharves.”

  Rawk gave a nod and a smile. “Ever thought of following Galad here into the hero
business?”

  “No, I haven’t. And no, I wouldn’t.”

  “Just thought I’d ask because there may well be more duen in the forest.”

  That got Galad’s attention. He sat up and rested his elbows on the table. “And why are you telling us this piece of news?”

  “Well, Weaver is offering 3000 ithel for each duen that I kill so I thought you might—”

  “Yes, but why are you telling us instead of going off to claim the bounty yourself?”

  Rawk held up his arm and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the bandages. He pulled up his shirt too. “I might be stupid,” he said, “but not stupid enough to go back out there on my own. One of them did this to me. If I came across two or three...”

  “You’re forming a party?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How long’s it been?”

  “Nine years.”

  “That troop of malana...”

  “Path, no. A bunch of others just followed me. Lazy bastards couldn’t work anything out for themselves. It was a panamore up near Garn.” He waved it away. “Anyway, are you interested?”

  “Even split?”

  Rawk gave it some thought. “A hundred off the top of each thousand for me, then an even split.”

  “A hundred off the top? Thirty.”

  Rawk sighed. “Let’s just save time and go straight to sixty?”

  “You’ve got to be... Oh. Right. Sixty sounds good.”

  “Thok?”

  Thok shook his head. “I’m sure I’ve got something to do... whenever it is that this thing is happening.”

  “Fabi?”

  “What happens if we find nothing?”

  “Then we had a nice walk in the forest. And, Weaver said he’d pay a thousand for the effort.”

  Fabi grunted. “Three hundred and thirteen ithel for a walk in the forest?”

  “Welcome to the life of a Hero.”

  “All right then. I’m in.”

  “Three?” asked Galad.

  “Three it is.”

  “When?”

  “Be up at the Hero’s Rest at dawn.”

  The two men nodded.

  “Now, I’m going to get something to eat,” Rawk said. “Any recommendations?”