The Blade of Rebellion

by Ian Carter

  A man wearing formal robes entered the room from an open doorway a few meters from the table and strolled to the head of the table where a man was sitting. The man put down his wine glass, and the table quickly quieted down as the formal looking man leaned in to whisper into the man's ear. The smile disappeared immediately from his face.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Quite," the formal looking man responded coldly.

  "Well, then..."

  The head of the table threw up his arms before he reached for his wine glass and gulped down the remaining liquid without breathing.

  "I'm sorry to cut this short, but please do continue with your meal. The time has come for me to leave." He stood up, brushed off the crumbs from his lap and cracked a wicked smile.

  "I must prepare this evening's entertainment."

  Chapter Twelve

  Monster At The End Of This Book

  Raucous shouting and banging echoed from behind the swinging doors that separated the dining area from the Inn's kitchen. In the kitchen, young women performed their intricate cooking techniques as they bounced from station to station like a dance. They were easily keeping pace with their orders as steam from their pans rose into the air. Off to one side of the kitchen, a rest area was situated for the Inn's staff to take their breaks from the constant daily harassment and noise from the patrons.

  The break room, typically filled with several off duty servers, cooks, and maids, only one server barely the age of twenty sat at the center table surrounded by empty chairs. Around the room there were several documents pinned to the walls, such as schedules, notices and a banned list. Armed guards leaned against the wall nearest to the door as an older man stood across from her. He placed his hands on the table and leaned his face in towards her staring her in the eyes.

  "You are to give him only the information that we have provided to you, do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir," she replied.

  "State your objectives," the man coldly stated.

  "Yes, sir. My job is to act as though this Inn is the main recruitment building for Terrell Braga, but that I am not a part of the system. I am just a server. I am to feed him the information you have given me, while at the same time coerce as much information as possible from him. I am also not to ask him questions that may tip him off to us knowing that Prince Kai has arrived in the city and that they have completely slipped past our spies."

  "Good. Go and do your task little one."

  The man raised himself from the table and beckoned for the armed guards to follow him as he walked off towards the Inn's hidden back entrance. The server took a quick breath, flattened out her skirt, and proceeded out of the room towards the dining area. She made a sharp turn and pushed open the swinging doors, and immediately a table of drunk Bronze Blades close by summoned her. She had planned to make a lap of the place and give random patrons lip service before beginning a conversation with Mason. To her chagrin, he was vigilant in scanning the room and had immediately noticed her. She needed to stay calm and play her part in the plan.

  The Inn was lively as a bard off in the corner playing his instrument to the delight of patrons. The sturdy wooden bar had several bartenders running around behind it, organizing drinks for their thirsty charges. The wooden tabled dotted around the room featured many random carvings etched into them, most of them holding anti royalty sentiment. The air was a touch musty, but as the door regularly opened for patrons, enough new air circulated to carry the smell outside.

  The young woman happily took her table's order. As she went to move away to get their drinks, the man sitting closest to her reached his hand out and grabbed her buttocks. She giggled and brushed aside his hand before she playfully reprimanded him for his drunken behavior. He gave her an up and down glance and licked his lips before retreating his hand back to his empty glass. She suppressed the utter disgust while shivers crept up her spine at the thought of him touching her again. In the blink of an eye, she steeled herself and continued to the bar to report the table's request.

  As a bartender filled her order, she allowed her imagination to wander. Her reward for obtaining information from Mason was enough gold to move to a different city down south. She hadn't made up her mind on the exact location, but she flooded her mind with images of a town with fewer men and many more birds and their songs. Beaches would also be lovely, but not a requirement.

  Instead of waiting, she continued on her initial lap of checking upon tables before she retrieved the drinks for the earlier table. She brought over the near overflowing glasses of ale much to the patrons' delight. The man from before placed his hand on the back of her knee and traced upwards underneath her skirt. As his hand reached the middle of her thigh, she moved away and scolded him with a wink. The man stared at her with his demeaning eyes and flashed a smile that showed his half-empty mouth of yellowing teeth. An overwhelming amount of nausea washed over her, but her smile continued to act on her behalf.

  "You'll be mine tonight, darling," the man drunkenly slurred. "I'll show you the best time you've ever had."

  "Well sir, if you fine gentlemen continue to buy rounds, I would be obliged to consider it when I'm done my work for the day," she lied through her facade. She hated having to keep up this appearance, but the birds singing in her mind willed her forward.

  "Aye, girl, we will. Make sure you come 'round and keep filling our glasses!" The table rumbled with agreement as the men stared at her as well. "Aye, you bastards back off, the Miss is mine," The man barked at the others sitting with him. "If you pay me, I'll let you watch." She gave a full fake laugh in response to the genuine laughter of the men in front of her. She felt sick to her stomach at the prospect. After a quick curtsy, she organically found her way over to Mason's table.

  "Is there anything I can get for a fine gentleman such as yourself?"

  "Ah, yes, I wouldn't mind an ale," Mason replied. "Also, a bit of conversation if you could find the time."

  "Normally, sir, I would charge for the privilege of speaking to me one on one. But in this case, I'll make you a deal. If you spend enough coin for me to stay away from that table over there, I'll gladly speak with you as long as you'd like."

  "Ah yes, them," Mason acknowledged. He glanced at the drunks' table and locked eyes with the drunkard that was harassing his potential source of information. He reached into his pocket and plunked down enough gold for a full day's amount of drinks for two people. "Whatever I don't spend, you can keep. How does that sound?"

  The server's heart skipped a beat.

  "You sure know how to convince a girl you're worth talking to," she replied. "I'll be right back with your drink... what was your name, sir?"

  "John, it's a pleasure to meet you. Your name would be?"

  "Bridgette, and it's my pleasure. I'll be right back, John." She gave a quick wink before heading to the bar. Mason looked back over at the other table and flashed a brief smile at the man. The drunk bared an angry scowl in return. After the drunk gave Bridgette a longing look as she stood at the bar's counter, he returned to his friends radiating his displeasure. Bridgette soon returned to Mason's table with his drink. "May I sit?"

  "Of course, please sit down. I'm sure your feet could use some rest," Mason said as he nodded and gestured to the seat across from him. Bridgette proceeded to sit across from him and lean over the table ever-so-slightly to give him a better view of her cleavage. She had to turn on her full charm and wield her wiles. Mason had a reputation around the kingdom for being very intelligent and susceptible to sniffing out a ruse, so she needed to do her best to knock him off his game. Any advantage was an advantage she needed.

  "What would Master John like to speak about?"

  "Some companions and I have come here to join the resistance against the royal family," Mason admitted. "I was told by a terrifying-looking man that this was the place to go if we were interested."

  "There are many scary-looking men in this city. But the good news is that you must have picked one of the
few smart ones. This is the place to go if you aren't a fan of the status quo. His Highness isn't very popular out this way, as you know."

  "His Highness? Why refer to that bastard by his title?"

  "I'll have you know that I'm a lady, and a lady always uses the correct titles when referring to someone, Master John."

  "Well, aren't you a charming one, young lady," Mason responded before taking a swing of his ale. "We're eager to flash our fangs, how would a couple of ruffians join the cause?"

  Bridgette shook her head.

  "I don't know the exact details because, like everything else on my body, I like to keep my hands clean." Bridgette couldn't help but give a small laugh. "What I can tell you is that a man comes here every five days like clockwork to collect hopeful rebels and lead them away. The job that falls to me and the other servers here is to let you new people know the time and place to get whisked away. The best part is that you are having the luckiest day of your life. Not only have you earned my undivided attention, but the man in question is also due to be here tonight, just after nightfall." She took a brief look around the room. "Speaking of your companions, where are they? If they are as eager as you say, I would've figured you would be here together."

  "They are currently resting in our room at another Inn," Mason answered. "We travelled a long way in a short amount of time, so we picked the first Inn we came across this morning. I have the best constitution in my party, so I was nominated to go and find some answers. I'm quite relieved that it's settled, and I can enjoy a nice drink."

  "I'm sure there are other reasons as to why they picked you. Any girl in this city who laid their eyes on you would spill their secrets to you. Speaking of spilling, you also have quite a bit of time before the man comes, so we could use a little of that gold to give us some privacy."

  Mason gave a small chuckle. "I'm not usually one to be flustered by a little bit of flattery, but I will accept your compliment with gratitude Miss Bridgette." They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Mason broke eye contact and took a long deep swing from his drink. "What happens after the man comes to fetch us? The woman in my party always pesters me when I don't ask enough questions before jumping into things."

  "Ha, I know a few women like that myself. I have heard that there is a combat test to determine if you are fit to join the fighting forces. If you fail, you will likely join in a more auxiliary role," Bridgette stopped and put her finger to her chin to give the appearance of herself pondering. "I have heard some very drunk men be distraught that they did not pass the test and told to be paper pushers. One man I remember was so upset he pulled his Blade on the City Guard and was put down."

  "Put down? You use some intimidating imagery," Mason conceded as he drank the remaining ale in his glass.

  "How are you with your sword, Master John?"

  "As you can see, I have a Silver Blade so I can handle myself just fine. I imagine my companions will be just fine as well."

  "I didn't mean your Blade." Bridgette undid another button of her blouse and leaned back over the table to expose herself a little more. "Intimidating imagery is not the only imagery that I am sufficient in, Master John. You'll be happy to know that my skills are Gold."

  Mason looked down, and very quickly, his face turned flush with red. He grabbed his empty glass to drink but had forgotten that it was empty. Hence, he instead diverted his eyes to a distant wall, which allowed Bridgette to showcase her seductive giggle. She was pleased that her efforts were working better than she could have expected. But she needed more information if she hoped to obtain the gold promised to her for the info.

  "I hate to pester you, Master John, but allow me to be more forward with you. Would you like to head to one of our Inn's rooms? I'm more than willing to cover the cost with some of the gold that you've generously given me."

  "I hate to deny such a feisty, beautiful young lady such as yourself, but..."

  "Aye, you bastard!" The drunken man from the other table had approached, empty glass in his hand. "Quit monopolizing my girl! We need drinks! She promised herself to me if we kept drinking!"

  "I do not believe she is your girl or anything close, friend," Mason replied, still looking at Bridgette. The latter now showed a little discomfort through her expression as she faced away from the drunk. "The simple fact she is sitting here talking to me suggests otherwise."

  "You fucking ingrate, I'll teach you a lesson for messing with me!" The drunk drew his Bronze Blade and stumbled towards Mason. Mason kicked out his chair and easily evaded the swing. Surprisingly to Bridgette, Mason did not draw his sword.

  "Calm down, friend. I have no intention of causing a scene..."

  "I'm not your fucking friend, and you don't get a fucking choice. Boys!" The other men from the drunk's table had gotten behind him and silently drew their Bronze Blades and began towards Mason.

  "Mason, be careful!" Bridgette said, alarmed. Immediately, she threw her hands over her mouth in horror. She kicked the chair out from behind her and ran back towards the kitchen area through the crowded vicinity. The Inn's patrons were focused on the fight forming in front of them and freely allowed her to run away.

  Tears immediately began to stream down her face as she barged through the swinging doors and into the safety of the secluded break room. She leaned against the wall and panicked; She had blown her cover at the most inopportune time just as she was about to get what she needed. The daydreams she had found herself in just minutes before, sitting in the sun and listening to the birds, had come crashing down around her. As she slowly slid herself down into a sitting position against the wall, a rough hand seized her by the hair.

  ◆◆◆

  Mason sneered as he watched Bridgette run away to safety behind the bodies of the men charging him. Mason threw aside the table he had been sitting at and pulled his sword from its scabbard. One by one, he parried the strikes coming at him from the four men at all sides. Slash after jab, Mason deflected their attacks with ease and grace. The drunk men were badly trained and had no posture. He could have probably defended against over a dozen of them, and soon they stood frozen as they panted in a drunken stupor, trying to catch their breath.

  "You boys need to go and sit back at your table and order another drink before I put you down like dogs," Mason barked at the men. "If you raise your Blades at me again, you'll be dead men."

  The men stood fast, and each of the four men ignited their Fire Stones in turn. The glow from the swords quickly eclipsed the light coming from the windows as the men charged once more, one from each side. As promised, Mason deflected aside the first man's Blade upwards. He came down on the man's throat in one clean motion with the flat side of his sword, which resulted in the man falling to the ground gasping for air. He then dodged the original drunkard's blow, which caused him to stumble forward and face plant into the wall a meter and a half away.

  The two remaining men each slashed for Mason's neck from opposing sides and found nothing but air as Mason had ducked away from their blows. He raised himself upwards and spun in place, sword extended. The flat side of his sword crashed against the temple of one of the men. Then, he immediately threw his fist backward and hit the pommel of his sword into the forehead of the last man. Both men crumpled to the ground as Mason coolly posed, arm frozen in place. The dining area roared in approval as thunderous applause. Boisterous cheers filled the Inn and flooded out into the street.

  Mason immediately regretted his response as the event had drawn the attention of everyone in the Inn. He eyed the door and began to move towards it as he waved his hand at his newfound fans.

  "Aye, bastard!" The man who had felt up the waitress had found his feet again. Mason stopped his progress and turned his head as the drunkard steadied himself and gripped his Blade tightly once again. "You're not leaving here before I kill..." His eyes slid past Mason and fell upon a man who had just entered the establishment. A look of complete horror blossomed upon his face.

  "That will be qu
ite enough." The newly arrived man's voice coldly filled the room and caused every person present to fall eerily quiet. "Robbie, the man you disrespected is a Gold Blade. You are nothing more than a fly to him. I suggest you sheath your Blade, go stand in the corner, and shut up."

  The drunk man quickly obeyed him and stumbled towards the nearest corner of the room before he fell into the wall again. He then used the two walls to balance himself. He sighed and buried his face into his hands.

  "So you know who I am then," Mason spoke as he turned his head to face the man.