Soldiers of Avarice

by Stephen L. Nowland

  Nellise came down the stairs into the common room carrying a five-foot wooden staff and backpack over her shoulder. Pacian appeared through the front door a moment later, apparently having spent his time buying provisions, which he carried in a large sack. More than that, he was wearing a full suit of leathers, dyed a patchwork of green and brown, just like Colt’s.

  “Where did you get that?” Colt exclaimed.

  “You see that shop over the road there?” Pacian hiked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing out a store just down the road from the mayor’s office. “Run by a nice older gentleman and his young, young wife. A little too young for him, if you ask me —”

  “I know of the bloody shop,” Colt interrupted angrily, “but that’s Ranger armor. It’s practically a uniform.”

  “Well, this elderly gentleman I mentioned? Turns out he used to be a Ranger, years ago. Retired now, obviously, but when I mentioned our mission to brave dangerous roads in an effort to bring urgently-needed supplies to the town, well, he said to me, ‘I’ve got a little something here that might help you out.’ And he brought out this very nice suit of armor, and insisted I take it.” Pacian kept loading up his pack with supplies as he talked.

  “Old David Patel is a decent bloke,” Colt warned. “But if I find out you’ve somehow swindled him —”

  “I know, I know, severe beatings and such,” Pacian muttered.

  “As much I enjoy watching these little sparring matches between you two,” Nellise interrupted impatiently, “I really think we should start out immediately. It could take a week to get back here with supplies, and every hour matters.”

  His pack full, Aiden hefted it onto his back and secured the buckles. Colt grunted in agreement, while Pacian took out a forest-green cloak and offered it to Nellise.

  “Your white robe sticks out like a sore thumb,” he explained. “This should help you blend in a little better. May I?”

  Nellise, still harboring some resentment, eventually nodded and allowed Pacian to gently wrap the cloak around her shoulders before they set out.

  After a few minutes, they reached the north gate which, like the wall surrounding the town, was made of thick oak trunks. There were four guards standing before it, looking miserable in their rusty chain armor and blue tabards. The armor itself didn’t appear to fit any of them properly — it was too large, and draped heavily from young shoulders.

  One of them was even a young woman, far too small for her chainmail, but appearing defiant and proud regardless. A wistful smile appeared on Nellise’s face as she looked at the young woman stepping up to protect the town.

  “What’s your name?” she asked gently.

  “Claudia, Miss,” came the nervous reply. The woman even attempted a curtsey which was quite a feat given the armor she was wearing.

  “You’re very brave to volunteer for duty like this. If these lads give you a hard time, just let me know, and I’ll sort them out.”

  “Gavin’s been havin’ a laugh behind my back,” Claudia accused, shooting an accusing glance at a tall, thin young man. “Says women shouldn’t be wearing armor, but I’m not lettin’ him get away with it. I’ll stand duty wearin’ this rusty old thing just as long as these smart-mouthed buggers.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Nellise remarked, raising an eyebrow at Gavin who stood at attention and didn’t so much as crack a smile.

  “We’re heading north, so keep an eye out for trouble,” Colt grunted as he handed over the official note from the mayor. Gavin read it and breathed a sigh of relief at what could spell the end of the town’s isolation, then gestured for the gate to be opened.

  “I just want you all to know that we are incredibly grateful for your service,” Nellise told the guards. “In these difficult times, we’re all doing our part to ensure the peace. Thank you.” She even bowed before them, startling the four young people, as Aiden and the rest filed through the gap to the highway beyond.

  “Good luck,” Gavin volunteered in a shaky voice, and then closed the gate behind them, locking the bar in place with an ominous thunk.

  “I’m suddenly having second thoughts about this,” Pacian remarked, looking over his shoulder as they walked away.

  “We’re getting through to Culdeny, one way or another,” Aiden assured him.

  “Enough,” Colt grunted. “We move out and keep as quiet as possible — if we do run into any bandits, they’re likely to be hiding, and I’ll take them out without raising an alarm. They won’t want to fight us face-to-face like real men, so keep an eye on our surroundings. Aiden, do you know how to use that sword?”

  “I know which end to point at the opponent, yeah,” Aiden answered as he tested his small sword, swinging it back and forth to get a feel for it.

  “Try not to stab yourself. Let’s go.”

  Wiping the drizzle from his face, Aiden walked over the Stormflow River bridge and left the safety of the town behind, wondering if they were getting in over their heads.

  Chapter Four

  The rain finally ceased as they walked along the highway, passing tall pine trees that blotted out most of the sky. Aiden kept his hand close to his sword hilt, and Colt’s longbow was strung and ready to send an arrow hurtling through the air at the first sign of trouble.

  Aiden’s senses were heightened as they traveled, and he found himself jumping at the slightest crack of a nearby branch or subtle movement of a tree. The large pines crowded in around them more and more as they went along, and it was fairly clear they had now entered the southeastern reaches of the Calespur Ranges, a large forest that was a source of wood for nearby communities and home to the king’s game reserve.

  They stopped at what must have been close to midday for a quick meal and a few minutes of rest. There had been no sign of bandits, or anyone else for that matter, a fact which made Colt more than a little nervous.

  “I figure any group of men looking to snatch passing merchants would’ve set up a bit closer to Bracksford,” he mused.

  “Maybe there aren’t any,” Pacian suggested. “Maybe Olaf was just making it up?”

  “It’s three days’ walk to Culdeny,” Aiden pointed out, “so I wouldn’t give up on running into trouble just yet.”

  “They’re probably short-handed on soldiers as well, but they’re far from defenseless,” Colt grunted, rubbing his eyes in the manner of someone with a headache. “If they got wind of any unlawful activity to the south, they’d have sent a squad to investigate.”

  “It’s only a matter of time,” Nellise reminded them as she took some bread and cheese from her pack and whispered a prayer of thanks before nibbling at it.

  “You know, I wasn’t expecting a lady of the cloth to carry a staff around,” Aiden remarked. “Are acolytes actually trained to fight?”

  “Only to defend ourselves,” Nellise responded. “The last two months of my novitiate was partially devoted to dealing with, shall we say, unpleasant situations. Though I’ve never been in a real fight, I am confident that I can hold my own.”

  “Your order isn’t a militant one?” Aiden inquired. Nellise suddenly seemed to realize where his line of conversation was heading.

  “Oh, not at all,” she assured him. “In fact, kingdom law prevents members of the clergy from having military or civilian rank, to avoid the sort of conflict of interest there was in times past.

  “I am an acolyte of the Resolute Heralds, our local chapter of the Church of Aielund, dedicated to bettering civilization. It was a different chapter that was responsible for certain … unfortunate acts.”

  “I’ve read a little about what you’re referring to, though I’d like to hear your perspective on it,” Aiden prompted. Nellise nodded and composed herself a little before answering.

  “Last century, the church had great political power throughout the land, greater than the king himself, and it was used ... poorly.” Her voice was passionate — clearly this was important to her.

  “Many suffered needlessly, from accusations of
impurity, heresy and other such nonsense, as the more paranoid factions of the clergy took power, specifically the Divine Templars. They were a chapter whose ethos was more focused on maintaining order and strict adherence to the Codex Morium, our holy book and centuries-old treatise on proper conduct, than any other concern.

  “The king was a weak man, so it fell to the people to rise up and stop the tyrant Archieros and restore authority to the throne. The Divine Templars were disbanded, and only three chapters of the Church remain. Since then, the training doctrine for the priesthood has been very strict, and places great emphasis on service, humility, and repentance above all else.”

  “Damn right they do,” Colt grunted. He held his bow at the ready, keeping a keen eye on their surroundings. “They’re tripping over themselves trying to help people, and always taking the blame for things they didn’t do. It’s disgusting.

  “They’ve been humble and repentant for a long time, and that has become their religion. They let just about anyone treat them like dirt. You people are pathetic. Don’t you have any pride in yourselves?”

  “Pride is what led to our downfall,” Nellise reminded him quietly. “We seek now to make amends, and reassure people that our ways differ greatly from those of our predecessors.”

  “That much is obvious,” Colt grunted. “I just think you take it too far, is all. There’s gotta be a happy medium. I can’t stand being around priests these days; they just ain’t men. Especially the women.”

  “Are you even aware what words are coming out of your mouth?” Aiden asked earnestly. Nellise smiled faintly at this, and Pacian laughed quietly.

  “You know what I mean,” Colt growled. “Look, all I’m saying is that they gotta start acting like real people again. Like how you talked to those kids at the gate back there.

  “Bowing down to a noble is one thing, but you were practically ready to kiss their feet. Did you see the surprise on their faces? They couldn’t believe their eyes. You and yours need to get over the past already.”

  “Thank you, Colt; I’ll take that under advisement,” Nellise replied coolly.

  Aiden was about to speak when he locked eyes with someone crouching in the shadow of the tall trees ahead. It appeared to be a woman, her long red hair bedraggled and matted against her mud-splattered face.

  She wore tattered animal skins and furs, but it was the look in her eyes that made Aiden’s heart pound in his ears. It was like looking into the eyes of a wild animal, one that was prepared to rip his throat out if he moved too quickly.

  They stared at one another, motionless, for a few seconds before Aiden’s companions noticed what was happening. Startled, the woman bolted further into the trees, running faster than he thought was possible given the conditions. Aiden suddenly gasped for air, only now aware he had been holding his breath.

  Under the aegis of Colt’s longbow, Pacian rushed to where the strange woman had been standing moments before, but she’d vanished. On his way back, he discovered something lying on the ground amidst the trees.

  “There’s a body here,” he called. Aiden and the others quickly joined him and grimaced at the site of the bloody remains of a man, stripped of all possessions except for the blue tabard identifying him as a member of the Bracksford militia.

  “Probably one of the men Olaf sent north,” Pacian muttered.

  Colt suddenly felt the urge to curse loudly. “I didn’t see that bloody girl until we were almost on top of her,” he grumbled. “Stupid, bloody hangover! She might have gone off to alert the rest of the bandits that we’re coming.”

  “If we weren’t together in a group,” Pacian muttered, “she could have killed one of us while we were busy talking. Can you track her, Colt?”

  “Of course I can track her; she was right here a minute ago!” he roared.

  “Wait a moment,” Nellise interrupted, gesturing at the body before her. “Colt, come here and look at this.”

  Still fuming at himself, the big ranger swaggered over to see what she was pointing at. “Are you seeing this?” Nellise asked quietly, drawing a slow nod from the ranger.

  “I don’t know who that woman was, but this man died weeks ago,” he grated ominously.

  Nellise nodded sagely, as if anticipating this answer. “She may have stumbled across the body, as we did,” she explained.

  “We can’t take the risk,” Colt growled. “We move, now, and assume they could be upon us at any moment.”

  There was no dissent from the group as they gathered up their equipment and continued on, this time in silence. They moved at a brisk pace for several hours without incident, until Colt spotted something ahead and called for them to halt.

  Not far away was a wagon with one of its two wheels broken, leaning heavily against a thick pine a few yards off the road. The long gouges in the ground denoted its final movements. A flock of crows pecked over the remains, then took to the air in a sudden burst of movement, causing Aiden to almost jump out of his skin.

  “How long ago did this happen?” he asked when they cautiously moved in for a closer look, his heart still pounding in his chest. Pacian drew his dagger and altered course to move among the nearby trees. Colt was already kneeling to check for tracks, and it didn’t take long for him to draw a conclusion.

  “It came from the north more than a week ago,” he grunted. “I think we both know what happened here.”

  “Someone tried to run the blockade and failed.”

  “They made it this far south, though, which tells me the cowards who did this can’t be far from here.”

  “What about the cargo?” Nellise inquired.

  “Give me a moment,” Colt rumbled, clambering into the back of the wagon for a closer look. “A couple of loaves of stale bread and a lot of empty crates back here,” he reported. “I guess they took everything of value, because who wouldn’t?”

  “I think I found the one of the guards,” Pacian called as he joined them from the forest, carrying a filthy crossbow and a couple of pouches in his hands. “If I had to guess, I’d say he ran off at the first opportunity after the attack started. Poor bloke never stood a chance, really. I guess they missed these things,” he added, hefting the crossbow and a coin pouch he’d found in the mud.

  “I’m guessing it’s been mysteriously emptied,” Aiden remarked dryly.

  “No, actually,” Pacian replied, raising an eyebrow at the implication. “There were no coins, but there is an interesting glove in here.”

  He upended the pouch and it fell into his waiting palm. It appeared to be a leather glove with a gemstone fixed onto the back of it, set into a bezel. The glove itself had no fingers, and seemed quite aged.

  “I don’t think our deceased friend will be in need of this,” Pacian quipped, “so I’ll just hang on to it for safekeeping.”

  “Wait, let me have a look,” Aiden interrupted. Pacian tossed the glove to him, giving Aiden a chance to examine the gem up close.

  “Are you also a jeweler?” Nellise inquired.

  “Not really,” Aiden murmured as he continued the examination. “But sometimes gems like this possess value of a different kind.”

  “I say, is that crossbow still intact?” Nellise asked Pacian, who took a closer look at it.

  “Seems to be, though the moisture hasn’t done the string any good.” He took a bolt from the other pouch he’d recovered and loaded the weapon, then aimed it carefully at a nearby tree and pulled the trigger. The bolt lodged into the tree as the string snapped straight, an effective demonstration of its capabilities.

  “My aim is awful, but it’s working,” Pacian surmised.

  “Let me use it,” Nellise suggested. “If we’re going to be shot at by bandits in a forest, I’d like to be able to shoot back.”

  “The priests taught you to use a crossbow? I’m starting to like you more every minute.” Pacian smirked as he gave her the weapon.

  Aiden wasn’t paying them a great deal of attention, for his sharp eyes had noticed engraved wr
iting in the metal surrounding the gem. It was not written in modern Aielish, the common language of the kingdom, but he did recognize many of the letters from his years of study.

  “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that gem has to be worth a small fortune,” Pacian confided to Nellise. “This expedition just paid for itself.”

  “More than you know,” Aiden mumbled. He was silent for a long moment as he concentrated on the strange symbols, trying to recall their meaning. “I think this glove was made by a wizard. See these symbols?”

  He leaned over to let his friend take a closer look. “I’ve studied some of this language in the last year, and I’ve managed to translate a bit of it. If I’m right, this is a command word that will invoke some sort of power.”

  “Any idea what it does?” Pacian inquired, with more than casual interest.

  “No, but I figure it’s either a weapon or some kind of protective device. Either one would be the only reason to attach something this valuable to a glove.”

  “What was that?” Colt suddenly whispered, whirling around and raising his bow. Drops falling to earth from the trees above were the only sound in the vast, empty forest, yet Aiden drew his sword as quietly as possible and put his back against a tree, his heart racing and ears pricked for the slightest noise.

  Nellise and Pacian took cover behind the broken wagon, from where they watched in silence for any sign of danger. As it happened, they didn’t have long to wait.

  Pacian suddenly pointed ahead of them and hissed a warning to Colt, who responded by leveling his bow in the same direction, holding it steady for a few seconds, then releasing it. The sound of the shaft flying through the air was cut off abruptly as it struck something that let out a strangled sound before collapsing to the ground.

  The group rushed forward in the direction of the noise. The dark shape of a man lay at the base of a nearby tree, rolling around in agony and making choking sounds. Colt’s arrow had struck true, taking the man in the chest.