by Ben Wolf
“Ever been in a village like this?” Axel muttered.
Calum shook his head. “Never.”
A beautiful red-haired girl about their age walked past them. She wore a flowing orange dress, and a white flower adorned her hair. Her blue eyes lingered on Calum for a long moment, and he couldn’t divert his gaze from her even after she walked past and looked away.
A whack to his chest jolted him back to the present.
“Eyes forward, Calum.” Axel snickered. “You’ve probably never seen girls our age, have you?”
“Haven’t seen women of any sort for eight years. None worth looking at, anyway.” Calum smirked. “Aside from your mother, of course.”
Before Axel hit him, Calum braced for the blow. A few traded punches later, their bodies hit the dirt, intertwined in a match of submission wrestling. Calum knew he wouldn’t win, but the jibe alone was a victory.
Within seconds, Axel managed to pin Calum down and twist his arm the wrong way. “Submit.”
Calum ground his teeth as pain surged through his shoulder. There was no getting out of this. Axel was too strong, and Calum wasn’t any good at wrestling.
But his pride wouldn’t let him give in—not yet.
Axel wrenched Calum’s arm farther, and the pain brightened. “Submit.”
“Can I help you gentlemen?”
In spite of the pain, Calum raised his head. A black-haired man, his hair peppered with gray, stood over them. Brown dirt streaked his beige trousers, his green shirt, and his tanned face.
Axel released his grip on Calum, and relief flooded his sore arm. On his feet again, Axel replied, “No, sir. We’re fine, thank you. Just some horseplay.”
The man gave a slight nod. “You’re making some of the townsfolk nervous, carrying on as such. Do you have reason to be here?”
Calum pushed himself up as well and rotated his arm to bring it further relief. “Yes, sir. We’re hoping to trade for food and other supplies if anyone’s willing.”
“You’re the King’s soldiers, aren’t you?”
Calum glanced at Axel. “No.”
“You’re wearing black leather armor, standard-issue.” The man stepped toward them, and his left eye twitched. “Only the King’s men wear that kind of armor. If you’re not them, then where did you get—”
“We traded some deserters for their armor,” Axel said before Calum had a chance to speak. “They fled the Rock Outpost north of here after a forest fire got too close. They were starving and hungry, so we traded them in exchange for half of what we had at the time. A few nights ago we ran out of our own supply, so now we’re here to trade, if we can.”
The man nodded but eyed them both. His left eye twitched again. “You’re welcome to walk around freely with your wares, but we desire no trouble, so kindly do your business and kindly move on.”
“Yes, sir,” Calum said. “Thank you.”
After the man walked away, Axel scooped up the sack of sabertooth fangs he’d dropped. “Old buzzard. He oughta mind his own business.”
Calum shrugged. “It’s his village.”
“I don’t even see why we need to trade these things. I doubt they’re worth anything. We should just take what we want like we did at the outpost.”
Calum stepped in front of Axel to keep him from walking. For him to even make such a suggestion flew in the face of everything Calum had fought against to earn his freedom.
“Absolutely not. These people are just like us,” he asserted. “They’re under the same oppression. We can’t steal from people like this. It wouldn’t be right.”
Axel rolled his eyes. “If you say so. Come on. Let’s visit that apothecary over there and see what we can get for these ivories.”
In addition to the modest shops interspersed between the old houses, a few vendors lined the main thoroughfare that divided Pike’s Garrison into two parts. Some of them offered food, others flowers, and a few dealt in weapons and traveling supplies, but they all seemed to lack both variety and quantity in their wares.
What few villagers occupied the streets seemed to do so with purpose—everyone darted from place to place. When they noticed Calum and Axel walking past, their paces quickened.
An hour later, having visited every shop and vendor in the marketplace, Calum and Axel still had eighteen of the original twenty fangs they’d brought to the village—plus a small bag of potatoes.
Axel tossed the bag of fangs on the ground behind a house. “This is ridiculous. No one wants these stupid things. We hauled them all this way, and we only got a measly bag of starch to show for it. You won’t let us steal anything, so what do you propose we do now?”
Calum sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well, one of us had better think of something, and soon, because…”
As Axel prattled on, Calum noticed a silver-haired lady seated in a rocking chair outside of a meager house. She’d sat there knitting ever since they arrived in the village, but now her hands covered her face, and her back heaved up and down, shuddering.
She was weeping.
But why?
Calum’s heart went out to her. He’d wept like that before, with great shuddering sobs, when his parents were killed. When the soldiers dropped him off at the quarry. And many long nights for a few years after that, until he’d finally resigned himself to his fate.
He understood the kind of pain that brought a person to this point. He still felt a measure of it, even to this day.
“…back in the forest.” Axel smacked Calum’s shoulder. “Are you even listening to me?”
Calum looked at him. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Axel’s voice trailed off in a flurry of muttering.
The old woman continued to cry even as Calum approached, but she hadn’t seen him yet. Perhaps that was for the best.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
The old woman raised her head. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and her dark-brown eyes were red and puffy. Upon seeing Calum, she pressed her hand against her chest then promptly resumed her knitting. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to pause for so long. I’m already back to work, of course.”
“No—I mean, I’m not a soldier,” Calum explained. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
She studied him for a moment, hair roots to leather boots. “You’re wearing a soldier’s armor.”
“Well, we traded some deserted soldiers—” Calum bit his lip. Even if he did remember all of Axel’s story, he’d probably butcher it as it came out. “Look, I’m not a soldier. It’s a long story. I just came over here because I noticed you crying. Is everything alright?”
She hesitated, then she looked down at the yarn in her hands. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Calum shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Then you don’t know the oppression that regular folk suffer from men who wear armor like yours.” The old woman resumed her knitting as if that concluded the conversation.
Calum bit his lip. “I have a pretty good idea of how cruel the King’s soldiers can be.”
“Then how do you justify wearing their attire?”
“The armor keeps me protected in battle and warm at night. It doesn’t represent who I am or what I believe in any way.”
The old woman chuckled and worked the yarn and needles in her hands. “I believe you, but the image suggests the contrary. Perhaps you ought to consider that when next you decide to—”
“Ma’am, my parents were killed by the King’s soldiers when I was eight. I was forced to work in the King’s quarry until just a few weeks ago. The only reason I’m standing before you right now is because I fought my way to freedom.” Calum immediately regretted his tone, but he couldn’t retract his words. He added, “…with some help from a friend.”
“By the Overlord…” The old woman stopped knitting. She stood up, her mouth open and brown eyes forlorn, set her project on the chair, and pulled Cal
um into an embrace. “You poor dear.”
Calum didn’t know what to do. This woman, who had just chastised him for wearing soldiers’ armor, clung to him as if he were her own child.
“I’m sorry.” The old woman squeezed him tighter. “I had no idea. Twenty years ago this winter, the King’s soldiers killed my only son.”
Calum exhaled a sigh. No wonder she’d been crying.
He wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug. In that moment, this woman became the closest thing he’d had to a mother in nearly a decade.
She pulled away from him but kept her hands on his gauntlets. She looked them over and then met his eyes again. “I’m sorry I spoke ill of your armor, though now you understand why it’s such an affront to me. We share that horror in common. What’s your name, child?”
“Calum.” He couldn’t hold her words against her. He gave her a half-smile.
“A strong, noble name. I’m Reginia. I can’t express how sorry I am for your loss.”
Calum nodded. “Your son—is he why you were crying?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve cried rivers of tears for him in my time, but not today.” Reginia shook her head. She picked up her knitting and sat in her rocking chair again. “Forgive me if I sit down. My ancient legs wear out quickly, and I need to save my strength for making dinner this evening.”
“Of course.” Calum crouched next to her. He glanced back at Axel, who leaned against a nearby house and yawned. “But there is something going on.”
“Our village’s problems insidiously complement each other and compound our frustrations.” Reginia sat back in her rocking chair and looked up at him. “A couple times a month, a group of bandits raids our village. They take most of our food, any gold or silver we earn from travelers passing through, and whatever else they want.”
Apparently, the King’s soldiers didn’t have a monopoly on cruelty.
“I’m sorry.” Calum turned back and motioned for Axel to come over, and Calum introduced him to Reginia. “Have the King’s soldiers tried to help you?”
“Not in the least. They don’t care about us any more than the bandits. It’s gotten so bad that the bandits don’t even bother to come at night anymore. They just walk into town and take what they want. They’ve been here so many times that we don’t even bother to fight back now.” Reginia sighed. “That’s the other reason I’m not fond of your attire.”
“But you have talked to the King’s soldiers about this?” Axel asked.
“It didn’t do any good.” Reginia gave a sad laugh. “Three weeks ago, they came into town while the King’s men were also here. We thought the day of reckoning had finally come, but we were wrong. Their leader nodded to the commander of the soldiers, and he nodded right back and stood by while they robbed us again. They did nothing to help us.”
Axel growled and muttered a curse.
While Calum shared every ounce of Axel’s rage, he wanted to express it in better terms for Reginia’s sake. “What Axel means is that we want to help you if we can.”
Reginia smiled. “You do?”
Axel’s head turned toward Calum. “We do?”
“Of course. Since the King’s men aren’t doing what they’re supposed to do, we’ll do it instead.” Calum raised an eyebrow. “For a price.”
Reginia’s smile faded. “Which is?”
“We get half of whatever we recover. We’ll clear out the bandits and make sure they never bother you again.”
Axel leaned close to him. “Bold plan, but I don’t know if we can—”
“We most certainly can, and we will.” He rubbed his hands together and grinned at Reginia. “What do you say, Reginia? Who do we need to talk to in order to make this official?”
The hopefulness in Reginia’s eyes had returned at Calum’s proposal. “What you suggest seems fair. My husband is the village’s elder. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get him.”
As she walked away, Axel twisted Calum toward him. “Are you crazy? We don’t even know what we’re walking into here.”
“It’s just a group of bandits. We can handle them. It’ll be a quick easy payday.”
“We’ve never done anything like this before. How do you know we—”
Calum elbowed him in the gut and turned to face Reginia, who led a white-haired man with a matching beard over to them. A long black chain hung from his neck over his gray-and-white robes. Two black earrings in each ear matched the metal of the chain.
Calum stepped forward and extended his hand. “I’m Calum. This is Axel. We’d like to help you solve your bandit problem.”
The bearded man extended a gloved hand, also black, and his green eyes scoured them. “Stavian. Reginia told me of your proposal. I must tell you, she tends to be far more optimistic than me. I have my doubts about your ability to do anything for us, especially if there are only two of you.”
“We have another.” Calum recalled how Magnus had severed the last sabertooth cat’s head a few nights earlier and added, “He’s a skilled fighter.”
“And you’re not?”
Calum’s smile evaporated. “No—I mean, yes, we are too, but he’s—”
“We’re all skilled fighters.” Axel pushed Calum aside and stepped forward. “Calum meant that our friend is the most experienced of all of us.”
Calum glanced at him. Sure, now he gets on board with the plan?
“There are at least ten bandits. Possibly twelve or thirteen, but no more than that. They reside in a hideout somewhere west of here in the Snake Mountains. I can show you on a map where we think it is.” Stavian cleared his throat. “But even if your friend is as capable as you describe, I doubt you could overcome such a large force.”
“We can handle it, alright.” Axel held up his hand. “Several weeks ago, we took control of a mighty fortress that housed more than twenty men.”
Calum eyed him for the gross exaggeration, but Axel ignored him.
“And you also realize that if you fail, you’ll be jeopardizing our village beyond even what we’ve suffered thus far?” Stavian’s icy blue eyes fixed on Calum.
Calum glanced at Reginia. He hadn’t considered that, but how could he back out now?
“Yes, of course,” he said. “But we’re not going to fail. We’re going to get your coin back, and—”
The yells of several men and women erupted from the other side of Reginia’s house, followed by clashes of swordplay.
Axel and Calum looked at each other, then at Stavian and Reginia. They ran around Reginia’s house to the village square, which had crowded with people formed into a loose ring.
There, in the center of it all, Magnus engaged several villagers in battle.
Chapter Seventeen
Calum immediately knifed through the throngs of people toward Magnus. At least a dozen men surrounded him, all with pitchforks or hoes or other farming tools, aside from two of them who held actual swords.
Without drawing his own weapon, Calum pushed between two of the offending villagers and stood at Magnus’s side. He raised his hands in the air. “Take it easy, people. Calm down.”
Axel joined them, but he had his sword out. He waved it at the nearest villager with a weapon. “Back off, or this is going down your throat.”
Calum grabbed his wrist. “Put it away. We’re not fighting these people.”
“Not gonna happen, Calum.” Axel jerked free from Calum’s grasp. “They’re threatening us.”
“Axel, trust me. If we want this job, we have to be on their side, not against them.”
“Then maybe I don’t want this job.”
Since when had Axel decided to side with Magnus on anything? “You wanna eat, don’t you?”
Axel glanced around them. “Not this bad.”
Calum turned to Magnus. “Will you put your sword away?”
Magnus’s eyes narrowed, but he complied. “You had better know what you are doing.”
Axel glanced between them and the villagers. “Are you guys
crazy? They’re gonna kill us because you won’t fight back.”
“Axel.” Calum’s voice hardened. “Put it away.”
Axel shook his head. “You can’t be ser—”
“I am. Do it now.”
Axel scowled at him for a moment, then he sheathed his sword.
“Put your hands up, like Magnus and me.”
Axel complied with a sharp sigh.
“We’re on your side,” Calum said to the crowd. “This Saurian is with us. He won’t hurt you unless you try to hurt him. And if you try to hurt him, I don’t envy you in the least.”
“Stand down, everyone.” Stavian parted the crowd with his gloved hands and headed toward the center with Reginia not far behind. When he reached Calum and Axel, he stared at Magnus for a long moment. “You didn’t tell me your friend was a Saurian.”
Calum glanced at Magnus and Axel. “You didn’t ask.”
“Having seen him, I am more confident in your chances for success. I grant you permission to remove the bandits on our behalf.” Stavian extended his gloved hand. “May the Overlord bless you with great success. If you will come with me, I can provide you with more details on your task.”
Calum shook Stavian’s hand. “Thank you.”
Magnus leaned his head down next to Calum’s. “What kind of foolery did you just commit us to?”
“The best kind.” Calum gave him a wink.
Inside Stavian and Reginia’s house, Stavian unrolled a map and smoothed it across a wide oak table. Sunlight filtered in through a skylight in the ceiling above the table.
He pointed to a spot east of the Snake Mountains. “We’re here.” He pointed to another spot, almost exactly due west of Pike’s Garrison. “The bandits’ hideout is somewhere near here.”
“This will not be a short venture,” Magnus said. “We will need at least a day to get there, to get inside, dispatch the bandits, and recover your property, plus another day to return.”