by Ian Gregoire
Narrowing her eyes at Kayden, Dashina inquired, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, when a rabble arrived in your town ten months ago declaring themselves the new overlords of the province and demanding the payment of tribute every other week, it was incredibly stupid to take them at their word and simply roll over for them. Are there not enough people here with the guts to chase these people out of town when they come?”
“Oh, you foolish, ignorant girl,” muttered Dashina, her voice laced with derision.
“Hey!” Kayden did not appreciate being called foolish let alone ignorant. “Now you just listen–”
“No! You listen!” snapped Dashina, glaring across the table. “We initially made the mistake of thinking like you. But we learned differently after sending a delegation to the provincial capital, Sevdanor, to see the governor, and request soldiers be stationed in or around Azderan to deter the bandits from returning.” She leaned back in her chair, pausing for a moment before continuing in a more measured tone. “The soldiers arrived four days later… with the heads of each member of the delegation. It was both a punishment and a warning. That’s how we learned that Baranzev Kazdaranian is effectively the governor of the province.”
“Effectively? What does that mean?”
“You don’t get it, do you? Kazdaranian is a high-ranking officer in the Royal Guard, and a respected war hero. He has side-lined the governor, and no soldiers under his command are going to oppose him.”
Kayden’s mind began ticking over. Dashina’s assertion didn’t make sense. “Why in the world would an officer of the Royal Guard be unleashing bandits against the population he’s supposed to be protecting?” An even better question would be how could he get away with it for so long? she realised. “I find it hard to believe that any kingdom would allow control of any part of its territory be usurped by a servant of the realm—to be run as his own personal fiefdom.”
“The queen is unaware of the situation here. All the roads leading to the rest of the country are controlled by bandits, preventing us from sending messengers to the capital, Nerezan. And even if it was possible to get word to the government about the banditry, it would be a waste of time. Kazdaranian’s status means that he could deny everything and be believed. And if by some miracle someone was dispatched from the capital to investigate, Kazdaranian could simply bring a temporary end to the bandits’ activities.”
Still it didn’t make sense. What would drive a respected war hero to betray his monarch, and terrorise his own countrymen? And why go to the trouble of concealing the usurpation of the province if his status meant he’d be given the benefit of the doubt by the Anzarmenian government?
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Dashina interjected. “But you should know, this is the smallest province of Anzarmenia. As long as the queen continues to receive our taxes, why would she or anyone else be particularly bothered that the appointed governor has now been removed by a Royal Guardsman-turned-bandit.”
“In my experience, those who are accustomed to holding the reins of power do not look favourably upon those who undermine their authority,” said Kayden. “If the Anzarmenian government was made aware of what is happening in the province I can assure you that action would be taken. So, I have to wonder why there is no concerted effort to seek assistance.”
“After what happened to the delegation sent to the provincial capital, who’s going to risk the consequences of seeking government intervention? Besides, why would northerners care about the plight of us southerners?”
Sighing with frustration, Kayden had no idea about the regional differences Dashina was referencing, nor did she particularly care to understand them. She picked up her mug and drank more tea; there seemed little point pressing the issue. If the people of Azderan and the wider province weren’t prepared to to help themselves, they would simply have to live with the cost of their inaction. Not to mention it was really none of her business.
Nevertheless…
“You do realise that cowards and bullies only target the weak?” she said. “If the people of Azderan truly want to be rid of the yoke of Baranzev Kazdaranian, you will have to demonstrate that you aren’t weak and frightened. To do that, you have to fight back.” In response to the incredulous look on the other woman’s face, Kayden added, “When I encountered a group of these bandits on the road, do you think I rolled over and gave them what they wanted?” There was no reply, but rhetorical questions didn’t require answers. “No, I didn’t!” she continued. “Instead, I taught them a harsh lesson. A lesson they won’t soon forget in hurry.”
Dashina’s eyes widened. “You… You didn’t… You didn’t kill them... did you?” she stammered.
“That wasn’t necessary. But I hurt them enough to let them know how fortunate they are to still be alive.”
“Oh, no!” Dashina rose, surprisingly quickly, to her feet. “That’s even worse.”
Reacting swiftly, Kayden reached across the table, grabbing hold of Dashina’s wrist to prevent her from walking away. “What are you talking about?”
“You have no idea what you’ve done!” snapped Dashina, yanking her arm from Kayden’s grasp. She trundled away, looking equally furious as anxious.
With a shrug Kayden allowed Dashina to walk away; there was no use in trying to help people who weren’t prepared to help themselves. She spooned up the last of her casserole and wolfed it down before grabbing a bread roll and tearing off a piece to wipe the inside of her bowl. She ate the sodden piece of bread then repeated the process two more times. As she proceeded to pour herself some more tea, both Dashina and her husband returned to her table. Kayden set the teapot down and glanced up at the pensive couple, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
“Excuse me, miss,” began Varik. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave at once.”
“You want me to go?”
“I will, of course, reimburse the money you paid.”
“Why should I leave?” she asked pointedly. “I just got here. And even if I wanted to, where do you expect me to go?”
“Azderan has five other inns you can check in to—”
“Forget sending her to another inn!” interrupted Dashina, sounding agitated. “The kind of trouble she’s bringing with her means we can’t inflict her upon Gavrin, Larissa or one of the others. She needs to leave town right now.”
“What trouble?” Kayden demanded to now
“If you really attacked some of Kazdaranian’s men, as you claimed, they will be looking for you now,” explained Dashina. “They will want to make an example of you as a warning to others.”
“Not to mention,” added Varik. “Dashina and I risk being penalised if we are found sheltering you.”
Kayden sighed. She was becoming irritated. How much more obvious did it need to be that she was unconcerned about reprisals from Baranzev Kazdaranian’s men? She picked up her cup of fennel tisane and took a gulp. If she was drinking she wouldn’t have to fight the temptation to say something undiplomatic. But Dashina and Varik remained standing at her table, prompting her to look up at them. “I don’t know how much clearer I can be,” she said tersely, “but I fear nothing and no one, least of all Baranzev Kazdaranian. I even told his men where to come looking for me if they want revenge.”
“You did what?” Dashina’s face was a picture.
“All right, young lady,” said the innkeeper, “you’re leaving right this minute. Go get your things. I’ll reimburse your money, and return your weapons to you.”
The portly man trundled away from the table, his wife trailing behind him, heading towards the door adjacent the serving counter. Watching the couple depart, Kayden decided it was time to impress upon them why she had no concerns for her safety, and why they, too, had nothing to fear. She put down her cup, stood up and thrust out a hand in their direction. Her invocation of Yuksaydan instantly seized hold of the pair, lifting them off their feet. Both husband and wife cried out in alarm, causing all eyes in the sa
loon to be drawn to Kayden’s demonstration of Zarantar. A deathly silence followed as she marched towards the suspended couple, the ‘unseen hand’ slowly spinning them around to face her. She looked back and forth between the two until their disquiet appeared to ease.
“You’re a wielder of Zarantar?” said Dashina, sounding breathless.
“Hopefully, now, you both understand why I have no fear of Kazdaranian or his men,” replied Kayden. She glanced from Dashina to the innkeeper. “And why I won’t be checking out before tomorrow.” With a gesture of the hand she set the couple back down on the floor, ceasing her invocation of Yuksaydan. “In fact, I intend to be here when they arrive.” As much as she didn’t want to get involved in matters that had nothing to do with her, she was now resolved to staying in town until she had saved the people of Azderan from their tormentors. She glanced back at her vacated dining table. Her supper was more or less finished. “I’m going to turn in for the night,” she said. “If Kazdaranian’s men should arrive tonight, send someone up to my room to wake me. I will take care of them.”
Kayden stepped away, heading for the staircase. She wanted to be up in her room and in bed getting a good night’s sleep, though she was fully prepared for a confrontation if her slumber was to be interrupted.
“Just because you wield Zarantar, don’t assume you are safe.” Dashina’s voice halted Kayden in her tracks. “Kazdaranian has several men like you in his ranks.”
Peering back over her shoulder, Kayden replied, “I can assure you that none of them is a match for me.” A knowing half-smile turned one corner of her mouth.
“It’s all very well having the power to protect yourself,” Varik interjected, “but that doesn’t save my wife and I from retribution, for sheltering you, once you leave Azderan.”
With an imperceptible sigh, Kayden turned around to face husband and wife directly. “I promise you this,” she said adopting a serious tone. “When I am done with these people, they will never set foot in this town again.” She stared from one to the other, daring either to challenge her assertion. She assumed from the protracted silence that there would be no challenge, so she had permission to turn on her heels and resume her walk to the staircase.
Back up in her room, Kayden opted against getting undressed. She kept her uniform on but removed her boots before laying down upon the bed. With a sense of satisfaction, she invoked Inkansaylar to form a barrier sphere around the bed so no one with ill-intent could catch her unawares. On the one night she had been forced to sleep outdoors during her journey, it had been an unexpected surprise to discover that her invocation of an impenetrable protective bubble didn’t immediately dissipate once she was unconscious—as should have been the case. She awoke the next morning to find her barrier sphere still active, though much weakened from its state before she fell asleep.
Laying on her back with both hands beneath her head, she stared up at the ceiling through the translucent bubble surrounding the bed. She was intent on clearing her mind to aid her in dozing off more quickly, and a restful sleep soon claimed her.
Kayden’s eyes flashed open in response to the excited knocking upon the door of her room. Sitting up sharply in bed, she couldn’t say for certain how long she’d been asleep but the glow from the flickering flames of the wall-mounted lanterns was undimmed. She opened a breach in the barrier sphere and held out a hand, invoking Yuksaydan to reach across the room to turn the door key in the lock, and pull open the door. At the threshold stood the innkeeper’s son, Tasarik. He looked agitated, but the sight of the translucent barrier sphere encircling the bed appeared to unnerve him further.
“Yes?” she inquired, though she knew the reason for his presence.
“We’ve just received word that a small band of Kazdaranian’s men has entered town,” said Tasarik. “They’re not here to collect tribute from us; they are coming to find you.”
So it begins, thought Kayden as she brought down her barrier sphere. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll be downstairs shortly.” She swung her legs around and over the side of the bed. “Can you inform your father I’d like my weapons waiting for me.”
Tasarik nodded but remained standing in open doorway, staring at Kayden as though he feared it may be the last time he ever saw her.
“Well, don’t just stand there!” she said. “Get a move on!”
He departed at once, forgetting to close the door as he did so. Shaking her head, Kayden reached down to grab her boots from the floor and took a few moments to put them on. She ambled to the window, parting the drab curtains slightly to peer down at the darkened street below. There was no sign of any marauding, armed bandits. She did, however, spy a small number of people hurriedly making their way indoors, and several lit windows suddenly going dark. Clearly the townsfolk were expecting trouble. Kayden stepped away from the window and calmly left the room.
Downstairs, she was surprised to find the saloon half full. If patrons were still present and being served then she obviously hadn’t dozed off for very long. All eyes were on her as she set a course towards the serving counter. Dashina was standing behind, looking on as her husband stood in front engaged in an animated discussion with a trio of unhappy looking men. Moving through the saloon, some of the glances she attracted appeared sympathetic, but most seemed to hold antipathy—even outright hostility. The aggravation she felt might have prompted her to offer a few hostile glances of her own in return had she not noticed something disconcerting. Other than herself and Dashina, there were no longer any women present. It was safe to assume they had all departed once word of the imminent arrival of Azderan’s unwelcome guests had reached the inn.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, intruding upon a heated disagreement between the innkeeper and his customers. The bearded, eldest-looking of the trio glared at her.
“You could say that,” replied Varik. He gestured at the man with the neatly trimmed and groomed beard. “This is the mayor of Azderan—”
“Mayor Adgar Nartovian,” interjected the mayor. “Some of the townsfolk feel that we could earn some goodwill with Kazdaranian by tying you up and handing you over to his men as tribute.”
“That’s a terrible idea!” Kayden stared pointedly at the mayor, then likewise at the men standing with him. “Appeasing these people won’t rectify the town’s predicament; only through resistance can you hope to achieve that.” Returning her attention to the mayor, she added. “Fortunately for you, the resistance begins tonight. I’m not leaving Azderan until I’ve made sure Kazdaranian’s men never return.” The sound of trotting horses outside the building drew Kayden’s attention to the entrance. It seemed the town’s tormentors had arrived at the inn to find her. “If you would kindly return my weapons to me,” she said, glancing at the innkeeper, “I will happily give your guests a warm welcome.”
A reluctant look appeared on Varik’s face as he glanced back and forth between Kayden and Mayor Nartovian. Despite the lengthy hesitation, the objection he was no doubt hoping would be raised by the mayor didn’t come, so he duly retrieved the sword and daggers laying on the counter top.
“There can be no bloodshed here tonight,” said the mayor. He sounded worried as he watched the innkeeper hand Kayden’s weapons back to her. “I hope you understand that.”
“Don’t worry, mayor, I have no plans to kill anyone today.” The levity in her voice was an attempt to lighten the mood, but Kayden knew it was futile gesture. She could almost feel the fear permeating the inn. “However, I can’t promise that nobody ends up with a bloody nose.” She stepped away from the gathering in front of the serving counter, and stopped at an unoccupied table nearby to strap her weapons into place.
With a showdown imminent, the tension in the air was so thick Kayden imagined she could slash it with the blade of her sword. She stood stock-still, staring at the entrance—just as everyone else present was doing—waiting for the inevitable. Her Zarantar-heightened senses made her aware of the group of people congregating on the other side of th
e door to the establishment. A smirk tugged one side of her mouth. To arrive in such small numbers, Kazdaranian’s bandits clearly had no idea who they were dealing with.
The door swung open, and several armed men poured into the inn, bringing with them a cool, gusty draught. Each of the grizzled men had a sword hanging at his hip; two of them also carried crossbows. Their number included a familiar face: Drazanik, leader of the fools who had attempted to accost her on the road to Azderan. Kayden looked on in bemusement when the innkeeper hurriedly approached the new arrivals to greet them like honoured guests. She rolled her eyes at the embarrassing display of hospitality, then shook her head when the mayor likewise stepped forward to join Varik in greeting the bandits.
A tall, ruggedly handsome man nonchalantly moved to the front of the group. Dressed in weather-worn dark leather, he couldn’t be older than thirty years of age, but his demeanour made apparent the authority he held over his associates. Kayden briefly wondered if he might be the infamous Baranzev Kazdaranian—a notion she quickly dismissed as improbable. Everything she had heard about the man suggested he wasn’t the type to get his own hands dirty.
“Mr. Rakissian, it’s a little late to be collecting tribute,” said Mayor Nartovian, addressing the ringleader. “We assumed the poor weather today would delay your arrival until tomorrow.”
“Oh, the tribute collectors will see you bright and early in the morning, Mr. Mayor. We’re here about another matter.” Rakissian’s cold, emotionless voice carried a dark humour. His gaze wandered to Kayden. “It has been brought to my attention that you are sheltering a foreigner here who thinks that Kazdaranian’s rule is somehow not applicable to her. Who thinks she can attack men loyal to him without consequence.”