by Lee LaCroix
As Garreth paced further and further, Behn had no problems engaging two or three guards with his massive blade. And unlike Garreth’s longsword, the weight of Behn’s claymore was heavy enough to send the guards to the ground and keep them there with vicious dents in their plate armour, which pierced flesh with unrelenting edges. Two guards tried to skirt in between the middle of the two plated defenders to reach their leathered foes and the escapee they carried. While Cern managed to redirect a strike from each before being forced back, Behn sent his blade careening into the sides of their helms which snapped the neck of one and a bowled over the second, allowing Cern to unwind a precise lunge under the guard’s helmet.
Everyone in Garreth’s squad was soon breathing heavy. As the fight drew on, more and more guards were on the solid street floor unmoving. When Behn had dropped another reckless one, the three remaining guards seemed to spread and pace, trying to anticipate their opponents’ next move. Garreth saw that the Queen’s Aegis were no longer on the offensive. They were no longer fighting for duty; they were fighting for their lives.
“You’re outnumbered now. Which one of you wants to die next?” Garreth spoke with a showy flourish of both the swords.
The guards straightened up and looked at each other before the one closest to the alley’s mouth shrugged and jogged away as fast as he could in his heavy armour. The rest followed in suit shortly after. There was a collective sigh of relief from Garreth and his allies as the last guard veered out of sight, and Garreth tossed the spare sword to the ground.
“Let’s hurry. They may be back in greater numbers soon,” Garreth ordered as he led them to the alley’s mouth and around the corner.
They paced through the intersection that was now devoid of the watchman and hurried down the residential alleyway to find Novas waiting in shadow around the corner. He ran up to Tamil and tried to get a good look at Kayten.
“Those bastards! They’ll pay for this,” Novas swore as he looked over the wound the Blackwoods had inflicted on his dear friend.
Novas lit the torch again, felt his way along the brick wall until he felt the notch of the entrance, and then slid his fingers in, opening the passage. They all hurried in and disappeared from the Upper Quarter completely.
Tamil lay Kayten down into her bed, and Novas and Garreth stood around her. She was red and black all over, and her breathing was hoarse, uneven, and often wheezing. Garreth took a cloth and a small pail of water and began to sponge at her bloodied nose and cut eyebrow.
“She looks pretty rough,” Tamil whispered.
“She’s strong. She’ll pull through,” Garreth stated.
Garreth had her face cleaned of all the blood but there was still a fair share of cuts that needed to close and bruises that needed to lighten. He began to work his way down her neck and onto her chest when Tamil’s hand met his.
“Nuh-uh. There are things that only women should do for women,” Tamil explained as she took the cloth from Garreth.
“Alright,” Garreth replied as he stood up and watched over her.
“I’ll take good care of her. Go work some of your herblore. I’m sure she needs it,” Tamil suggested with a sliver of a smile.
Garreth nodded, took his grasp onto Novas’ shoulders, and then took his son into the study. Garreth opened his satchel of herbs on the table, began to sort through them, and then prepared his mortar and pestle. He set aside a pile to relieve swelling, a pile to diminish the pain, a pile to expunge toxins, and a remedy to assist recovery. Garreth mixed them one-by-one, placed the mixtures in their tea cups, and then sat them on the shelf for when Kayten would awake. Novas sat on a stool with his head in his hands and stared out the window.
“They can’t get away with this. What they did to her is way beyond acceptable, way beyond reason,” Novas declared.
“Don’t think I don’t agree, because I do. Their end is coming. With their recklessness, the Blackwoods hasten their demise. They’ve made a big mistake, and they will regret what they have done,” Garreth added.
“I fear that there is little we can do till morning. We have done enough for tonight. We’ll have to be ready and waiting for any repercussions tomorrow,” Garreth concluded as he stood
Novas nodded to his father as he strode out of the room. A grinding anger festered deep in Novas’ heart. Novas knew himself. It was a passion that could only be relinquished by the letting of deserving blood. And he knew who was deserving entirely.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Novas left the tavern early next morning to meet Fesstil while the chef was preparing his wares. The cuisine vendor had set up shop on the corner of the Great South Road outside Amatharsus, and he was becoming quite popular through word of mouth because of his sizable portions and reasonable prices.
“Charge less and vend out here or charge more and move into the city. What do you think my customers want?” Fesstil bantered as he raised his ladle to the sky.
“I don’t know about them, Fesstil, but you make the best stews around. I need you to make something specific for a friend of mine. She is very unwell and needs something special. Can you do that for me?” Novas questioned the cook.
“For you, Novas, anything. What do you need?” the cook inquired as he thrust the ladle towards Novas while the chef sat behind his giant iron pot.
“Something with lots of vegetables, chicken, and herbs,” Novas said as he looked upwards, recounting a list from his head. “Oh, and cook it thoroughly. Everything needs to be soft and easy to swallow.”
“Sounds delicious. I should have it prepared within an hour or so, you come back then, okay?” Fesstil replied before he reached into his storage and began to dice up some carrots and potatoes.
Novas nodded and walked off into the field southwest of the city. He was particularly fond of the abode of the forest and missed residing in the shady environment. He reached the forest’s border and threw himself up the branches of a tree. He paused not far from the tree’s top and walked out onto the edge of the limb where he could see past the bushels of leaves. He had a seat and looked out over the city.
The longer he had lived there, the less wondrous it had all seemed. The fantastic spires and towering domiciles were no longer icons of prosperity but symbols of sacrifice and supremacy. Still, Novas oversaw the essence of life contained in the comings and goings of its citizens, which was reduced to figurines and miniatures from his lofty treetop post. He surveyed the smokestacks weeping pillars of black in the harbour and the sunsteel woven in tracks on the tallest peaks. The people may change, but these buildings would remain stalwart and irresolute. Unless they were torn down, Novas mused.
Novas collected the stew from Fesstil and paid him in tri, for there was no lack of coin from the trademaster, thankful vendors, or from the goods that he and Zill pocketed themselves. The trinkets he could not sell went into the hands of the needy and became keepsakes and mementos that hopefully would be passed down through generations instead of gambled away at taverns or docks. Novas carried the stew back to the room and set it down in the study where he found Garreth forcing his less than tasty herbal teas upon Kayten.
“This one will taste worse than the last,” Kayten mumbled through cracked and bruised lips.
She was wrapped in a blanket and wearing a plain cloth tunic and pants. She had been washed entirely, but she shined from bruises and cleanliness all the same. It hurt her to move her jaw. She picked up the tea, sipped at it, placed it down, and coughed aloud. She looked up at Novas and tried to smile.
“I’m sure this will taste much better than anything he’s cooked up. You’ll be fit and fine in no time,” Novas said as he poured out some stew.
The brown liquid steamed as it settled in the bowl. The smell and the sight of meat and vegetables made a feeling other than weakness and pain rise in Kayten, for her condition had demolished her hunger.
“It looks hot,” Kayten complained as she leaned over and smelled at the stew.
“It probably i
s. Keep trying your tea,” Garreth spoke as he urged her towards her medicine.
Kayten sighed a small bit and leaned back against the wall. The two hunters did not like to see her miserable, but at least she was safe and on the mend. Kayten looked back and forth at the two and realized they had been watching her with much concern. She picked up the bowl of stew, supped at it, and had finished her first gulps before there was a knock at the door. Garreth got up and disappeared into the hallway before returning a moment later with Berault hobbling in tow. The dark-haired man took a seat between Novas and Garreth and folded his hands together.
“The Blackwoods sure don’t care for your family much,” Berault claimed.
Kayten, with a mouth full of stew, responded with a moan.
“I’ve come to check up on you. There’s a lot of very concerned people around the courtyard. People are worried about you, Kayten,” Berault explained, “Of course, Garreth’s band could not help themselves but describing their entire escapade into the fortuitous dungeon and fighting the Queen’s Aegis to return you to safety. Now that the whole bunch of us know the tale, many were outraged, and many of us were concerned. I told them all to wait to bombard you with sympathies till later. Just know you have many well-wishers.”
“That’s good, I suppose,” Kayten replied.
“Indeed it is, but I have come here for a different reason. Forgive me for being blunt, but as you know, this is important. I was wondering if you can disclose any details of your kidnapping? Anything we can use against them?” Berault questioned.
“I remember waking up in a room and sitting on a chair. I was in front of a man who was behind a desk. It wasn’t dark and smelly like the dungeon, but the room was small and the walls were panelled with wood. I was strapped to the chair, and the man asked me questions,” Kayten recollected after placing the bowl of stew back on the table and reached her arms around herself.
“Which man? What questions?” Berault prodded.
“It was the same man I had seen watching me around the city. The same man the appeared outside of Lord Cross’s manor before I was taken. His hair was completely pulled back on his head and was grown into a spike on his chin. The first thing I remember was him telling me that I could go free and unpunished if I answered his questions. As if the throbbing thump on my head wasn’t punishment enough,” Kayten stated.
“He asked me if Lord Cross was part of the rebellion or if he was funding or supporting us. I didn’t want to incriminate him, so I replied no, but that’s when I realized what I had said,” Kayten whispered.
“He started showing me all these portraits and asked me if I knew who those people were and where they lived. They know who all of us look like. Novas, Garreth, you, Eyrn, Cern, Tamil. They had so many portraits. They have been watching us for a while, I think. When I wouldn’t speak anymore, he began to get angry. That’s when the violence started. He hit me across the cheek and demanded that I tell him everything I knew. He was red-faced and frustrated. I glared at him. He asked me if the Salty Dog was a meeting place for ‘revolutionaries’. When I stayed silent, he hit me again so hard it knocked me onto the ground. He slammed on the door behind him and said he was finished. That’s when I was dragged to the dungeon,” Kayten explained and forced back a sob in her throat as tears formed at her eyes.
“I wasn’t very conscious for the rest, but it was painful and humiliating… they kept asking me questions, but really it was all about the punishment. They didn’t even wait for me to respond. I felt very numb and just wanted it to end, I can’t even recall when I passed out. When I awoke Tamil was holding me, I could see Garreth, and then I was here,” Kayten avowed.
Berault nodded his head after Kayten had finished.
“That sounds like a terrible ordeal, Kayten. I’m sorry we couldn’t have spared you from that, we should have looked after you better,” Berault apologized.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I should have been more careful going to the Upper Quarter. I should have told someone what I was up to. It was unsafe,” Kayten muttered.
“Well, we’re glad you’re back and getting better. We’ll all be keeping a close eye on you from here on out. Lots of us await your return to health. Garreth, Novas, we need to speak elsewhere,” Berault claimed as he wobbled and brought himself to his feet, and he nodded to Garreth and Novas before heading out to door.
Garreth and Novas both rose, and the younger put a hand on Kayten’s shoulder.
“You rest up. We’ll be back before you know it,” Novas told her with a small smile.
The two hunters met up with Berault as he was unlocking his door, and they filed into his room. Berault sat at the chair behind his desk, and Novas and Garreth took a seat on the bench. Garreth raised a single eyebrow and gave Berault a questioning look, and Berault began.
“If what Kayten says is true, it’s highly likely that the Blackwoods know young Novas here is working for us while he works at the Black Market. It’s completely possible that he is in danger returning to a similar trap that Kayten faced. I recommend that he shouldn’t return there, and we move to ransack this warehouse as soon as possible,” Berault propositioned.
“The Blackwoods know the Salty Dog is our hideout. Where are we to store all these goods? There is a building full of them,” Novas thought out loud.
“I do not think we can take them all, but we can definitely take enough. We can have every man and woman in the courtyard hide crates in their basements and in their cellars. No one will refuse becoming a little richer this way,” Berault explained.
“Yes, yes, the courtyard. After Kayten’s kidnapping, I can think of a few impassioned people who’d like to see some payback on the Blackwoods. Let us go now and spread the word,” Garreth told them as he rose from his seat.
Novas smiled. Not because their plans were proceeding so naturally, but that he didn’t have to return to such laborious work for those demanding masters any further. The three continued through the Lower Quarter and proceeded into the courtyard where they wandered over to Eyrn’s sparring practice in the ring.
“Attention everyone, attention!” Eyrn called out from his place in front of the students.
Eyrn continued to shout until the majority of the courtyard was gathered in a crowd.
“Many of you have joined us here to learn martial skills to defend yourselves and the ones you care about. You stand against the murderous highwaymen and the thieving Blackwoods who are supplied by them. You have refused to be victims any longer, and you have stood up to protect those who cannot help themselves. Many of you have lost or know someone who has lost or continues to be affected by their tyranny. Kayten, our fiery-haired smith, is now safely among us after the most treacherous of kidnappings. If you have no reason to act, do it for her! We ask for your support once again,” Berault bellowed as he stood on a crate in front of them.
“Tonight, we look to raze a source of Blackwoods treasury. This ‘Black Market’ is warehouse of goods and valuables stolen from the people. And we look to give this back to you, so you can see fit that it gets into worthy hands. We need every man and woman with storage space to take these crates, hide them, and distribute them. Make sure they don’t fall back into the wrong coffers! Come to the lower harbour gates tonight after midnight. We will change this city for the better!” Berault yelled as he launched his fist into the air and was met with a crowd full of cheering and applause.
Berault was helped off the crate by Eyrn and Garreth and the crowd returned to their practices abuzz with conversation and excitement.
“The time is set. Now all we must do is follow through,” Garreth stated.
Novas and Berault nodded in agreement; they could not turn back now.
The sun was setting as Novas waited near the window of the common room, watching the light fade from the world. He was wrapped up in thinking about the best way to evacuate all the goods from the warehouse, how many people should use the tunnels, and how they should approach the mission in general.
He had been so wrapped up with his thoughts that he had forgotten to tell Zill that he wouldn’t be returning to the Black Market. Novas decided to head up to his room to see what had transpired that day.
Novas left his room, leapt up the stairs, and arrived at Zill’s door. He knocked three times upon the door. To Novas’ surprise, the door creaked open on its own. He pushed the door open and made his way in. Zill had not been the cleanliness of people, Novas imagined, due to his lifestyle and his personality. He could tell this was so by the sheet thrown onto the floor, which jutted out into the hall. As Novas crossed the threshold of the doorway into the bedroom, he noticed that the shelving was overturned, some shelves had been tossed around the room, the bed was flipped, and the straw mattress had been completely gutted. Novas wanted to believe that his friend had a wild party in there, but the more he explored the room, the less likely it seemed. And it seemed grim.
He made his way into the study where chairs were smashed, the table was cracked in two, and there was shattered glass everywhere. The room started to look like a break-in to Novas, a mixture of vandalism and search. He doubted that Zill had done this to himself. If that was so, what had those invaders been looking for? Although he could not fathom a reason, Novas was worried about the fate of his friend. Novas made his way down to the tavern where he sat at a table facing the entrance and waited for Zill. Tummas brought Novas an ale to calm his nerves, and the lad supped at the drink slowly for many hours while his friend failed to appear.