Knight's Justice

by P. J. Cherubino

  “Thank you,” Moxy replied cordially.

  Astrid grinned because Moxy really didn’t need the armor; she wore it more for convenience than anything. Clothes just made it easier for her to carry her yard-long blowgun and satchel full of poison darts and potions.

  “The rest are in place,” Moxy explained as she pointed to the woods where the other half of their force was hiding. “They’re holding the guards in the basement, just like James said. I counted forty estate soldiers and about another twenty-five Civil Guard. There may be more. They have lots of patrols both inside and out.”

  As if to illustrate the point, a group of soldiers came around a corner of the estate’s long low wall and marched along it.

  “The wall is only eight feet tall. We can climb it easy,” Kelly opined. “If we distract them, we can get a group over.”

  “They’d be waiting for us on the other side,” James replied. “They’d see us coming. These damn fields.”

  Until that moment, Jiri had been mostly silent. It was obvious to Astrid that he was going out of his way to follow rather than lead. He had made himself as helpful and compliant as possible.

  “We should let them see us coming,” Jiri said. He let his comment hang for a moment. “We have some Civil Guard of our own. They wear the same uniforms as those around here, right?”

  “Except for the armbands, yeah,” James remarked.

  “We have a wagon from Keep 52, yeah?” Jiri asked.

  Astrid followed the logic immediately. “Risky,” she declared.

  James caught on a few seconds later. “Very risky…but it’s our best move.”

  “What?” Kelly blurted out. “What are you talking about.”

  “We pretend to be on their side,” James replied to Kelly. “We drive our wagon right up to them with our people hidden inside.”

  “That’s crazy.” Kelly grinned. “I should have thought of it. I’m supposed to be the bandit.”

  “But we need to make it easy for them to forget their suspicions and let us in,” Jiri replied with a grim face.

  “What do you have in mind?” Astrid asked.

  “We need bait,” Jiri replied. “Use me.”

  “Make it even better,” Moxy added. “Use me as well.”

  “Damn.” Astrid sighed. “This is risky. To make it work, I’d want as much magic inside as I can get.”

  “The cart is three miles away on the back road,” James pointed out. “Day’s getting long already.”

  Astrid thought for a moment. “Let’s do this.” She ordered three woods people to go fetch the wagon and bring it to the trailhead nearest the toll road. “Let’s hope they don’t have patrols on the back roads.”

  “No signs of that,” James replied. “Looks like they’re concentrating on securing the keep and the estate grounds.”

  “Which means they have fewer soldiers than they want,” Jiri observed.

  “True,” Astrid replied. “But they’re using what they have very well. When we overcome them here, we should be able to make a fairly clean getaway.”

  She qualified her assessment because the back roads were barely passable. They were in the lowlands so the snow wasn’t quite as bad, but there was still plenty of it.

  “One more thing,” Astrid added. “I’m glad you all persuaded me to travel heavy.”

  A rumbling sound made them all hunker down. About a half-mile away, a massive wagon pulled by a team of stout horses emerged from the wide-open keep gates.

  “What the hell is that?” Astrid gasped.

  “That thing actually moves?” James wondered. “It’s been sitting in the same place in the Wilfred Estate courtyard for decades.”

  “Why the hell is it moving now?” Kelly asked.

  “Intimidation,” Jiri replied. “My father told me a story about that wagon rolling into battle.”

  “How did the story end?” Astrid asked.

  “Not well,” Jiri replied.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Just so Crazy it Might Work, Wilfred Estate

  It took the rest of the day to get the wagon moved into position. The team suffered without the ability to make a fire to keep warm. Those on watch made do as well as they could by burrowing through the snow to partially cover themselves in decomposing leaves like hibernating insects.

  The sun was setting by the time they got everything together. They were lucky that no patrols were active on the back roads. Astrid ordered half her team to wait on the edge of the woods closest to the estate while she met the team of former Civil Guard by the wagon.

  “How will we know when to come?” one of the woods people had asked before she left.

  “By the sound.” Astrid grinned. “It should be unmistakable.”

  By the time she got to the wagon, the sun was sinking below the bare tree branches.

  Moxy was looking down at a crate that had held extra crossbows. Now it was to be used to hold Moxy as a pretend prisoner.

  “I can do this,” she assured herself. She lifted one leg toward the box, then stepped back and took a deep breath. “And you won’t nail it shut?” she asked.

  “No,” James replied. “We cut off the nails, see?” He pointed to the nail heads in the top of the lid, then ran his hand along the underside. “We left the nail heads so it will look like it’s nailed on, but you can pop it off when we’re ready.”

  “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Moxy said. “My kind hate being confined.”

  “Well,” James replied. “You can scream and shout if you want. That will just make everything more convincing. Just please don’t jump out until the fighting starts.”

  Moxy gritted her teeth and stepped into the box, and her pale face grew paler as she laid down. She began to growl and hiss as soon as the lid touched the crate.

  “One more thing,” Jiri said. “We’re going to need this to be convincing. You need to bind my hands behind my back. Also, it would look better if my face is—“

  Without warning, Kelly planted a right cross on Jiri’s cheek. He staggered back and raised his hands, which burst into flames spontaneously. The Petran Mage had to turn away from Kelly quickly to keep the flames from harming her.

  “Damn it,” he said with a lopsided grin and an uncomfortable laugh. “You were a bit too ready to do that.” He let the flames die out and rubbed his face.

  “Sorry.” Kelly shrugged. “I don’t get many chances to punch high-class magic users.”

  “Well,” Jiri replied graciously, “you certainly rise to the occasion. Fairly decent punch, too.”

  “Fairly decent?” Kelly flared.

  “Yeah. I mean, for a girl,” Jiri replied, stepping closer. He leaned forward and added, “A skinny waifish looking girl at that.”

  Astrid almost had to turn away. She knew what he was doing, even if Kelly didn’t. Jiri relaxed just before the fist flattened his nose. He let the punch land just hard enough to make his nose bleed as he struggled to keep his hands down, but they still sputtered with flames.

  “O-oh shit…” Kelly stammered. “I didn’t mean…”

  “I’m grateful for your foul temper,” Jiri said as the blood dripped onto his chest plate. “That should give us the desired effect.”

  Astrid half-pretended to be stern. “Let’s hope you’ve gotten all the compulsive anger out of your system. We’re gonna need you sharp and clear for the mission ahead.”

  Kelly stood bolt upright in embarrassment. “I’ll be sharp!”

  “Good,” Astrid replied. “Run back to the other team and wait for us.”

  Kelly took off into the forest without another word.

  Astrid stepped over to Jiri, whose face was swollen and bloody. She shook her head. “You really are going the distance to prove yourself.”

  Jiri shrugged. “Is it that obvious?”

  Astrid arched her eyebrows and nodded.

  “Well,” Jiri explained, “my ass is also on the line here—in more ways than one.”

  “Expla
in?” Astrid demanded. She found it an odd time for him to drop something like that.

  “Let’s just say that my father and I are eager to change the relationship with your Protectorate. Things have been bad for too long.”

  Astrid narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know what to do with that statement, so she let it ride. “We need to get going.”

  A few of the Dregs loaded Moxy’s prison into the back of the wagon while others bound Jiri’s hands with trick knots that he could loosen. Astrid crawled under the wagon and squeezed herself into a series of leather straps that they had nailed to the underside. It was a tight fit.

  They had improvised with these straps by removing nails from other parts of the wagon. Astrid wondered if the straps would hold all the way to the keep or if the wagon would start breaking apart before they got there. The vehicle did sound a lot more rattletrap as they made their way onto the toll road.

  By the time they neared the keep, both of Astrid’s legs had fallen asleep.

  “Halt!” several agitated voices shouted. One voice rose above the rest. “Stop right there or we’ll fill you with crossbow bolts!”

  “Whoa, easy!” James shouted back. “We have prisoners!”

  “Who are you?” the voice demanded. Astrid watched several pairs of legs rush up to the cart, although she had to turn her head painfully to keep an eye on them.

  “Don’t point that weapon at me!” James demanded.

  “Fuck you,” someone replied. “It’s pointed at your heart. You make one wrong move and—“

  “Oh, ho, ho ho,” the lead guard said from the back of the wagon. “Back off, boys. They’re the real deal.”

  “What is it?” one of the guards asked, joining his leader.

  “These loyal Civil Guards have caught themselves a Petran.” The leader paused. “Why so many of you though?” he asked suspiciously.

  Just before James could answer, Moxy screamed and pounded the sides of her box. Two sets of legs backpedal away, and Astrid almost laughed aloud.

  “What the hell is that thing?” the lead guard asked.

  “They call her a ‘Pixie,’” James replied. “She belongs to that Astrid bitch. I bet that stupid twat doesn’t know what do without her animal woman.”

  Moxy hissed and growled again and someone kicked the side of the box. “Shut the hell up!” one of the guards in the wagon yelled.

  They were really playing it up. Astrid almost laughed again. When this was over, she planned to give them a hard time about their acting. She hoped Moxy would feel the same. Otherwise…

  “Well, hurry up then,” the lead guard said. He hastened to the front of the wagon and jumped up next to James. The rest of the troops stuffed themselves into the back of the wagon.

  “Hey,” one of the estate guards asked as they began to roll again. “Where are your lapel pins? You need to show your loyalty!”

  Astrid held her breath. Oh no, she thought. They had missed a detail. That’s how they tell each other apart.

  “They ran out of pins!” James shouted back. Luckily he had overheard the question.

  “Yeah,” one of the team added. “I told that stupid peasant jeweler he needed to work harder if he knows what’s good for him. I’m starting to wonder which side he’s on.”

  “Hard to know these days,” the leader guard replied. “But you lot have certainly proved yourselves today.”

  Astrid let out a quiet sigh of relief.

  It seemed to take forever to roll through the heavy timber gates into the courtyard. The last of the daylight had disappeared by the time the wagon stopped.

  Astrid managed to turn her head to the sound of approaching footsteps. A pair of polished and expensive-looking boots came into view.

  A haughty voice gasped in mocking tones. “Well, hello, Jiri Petran. So nice of you to visit again. I’m ever so glad to see you.”

  Jiri put on a good show. “Wilfred, you toad. I hope you know you’ve just declared war on the Petran Protectorate!”

  “No,” Wilfred replied. “You declared war on us the moment you decided to speak with that disgusting woman—if you could call that thing a woman.”

  Astrid gritted her teeth. It was always the same with the men who opposed her. Some just couldn’t come to terms with a woman in possession of physical strength greater than their own. I’m more of a woman than you’ll ever know, Astrid thought.

  Someone came over to the cart with a lantern and one of the enemy guards pushed Jiri out. He landed hard on the icy ground. Shit! Astrid hoped he wasn’t injured.

  They managed to make eye contact and Jiri gave her a split-second smile and a wink.

  “Get him to his feet!” Wilfred barked.

  The guards pulled Jiri up and Astrid held her breath again. The rope at his wrists had come loose, but Jiri managed to hold them on. He distracted them all when he spat in Wilfred’s face.

  The move earned Jiri a backhand across the cheek that made him stagger, but the guards held Jiri up. The Petran wasn’t acting. Astrid didn’t know how he could take such abuse.

  Then things unraveled fast. With lantern light shining into the back of the wagon, a sharp-eyed soldier noticed something.

  “Those crossbows…they look like the ones the bandits carry.”

  Oh shit, Astrid thought. There was too long of a pause. “We captured these from a group last week,” someone said.

  Too late.

  “It’s a trick!” the lead guard screamed.

  The ground reflected orange light as Jiri slipped out of his ropes and blasted Wilfred with a fireball. Astrid wished she could see the look on his face as Wilfred flew through the air, expensive clothes ablaze.

  Astrid’s eyes turned black as she drew from the Well and pushed with her arms and legs against the wagon floorboards. The leather ripped free, and Astrid landed on her back. It took a couple of awkward seconds for Astrid to scramble out from beneath the cart.

  When she did, she found Jiri taking down two estate soldiers with his sword.

  “Follow me!” Moxy screamed as she burst out of the box. She sliced open an enemy throat with her claws and stabbed two more enemy guards between their light armor plates.

  James and his fighters made short work of the nearest remaining guards.

  But Wilfred was already back on his feet and in the game. His burning cloak lay behind him on the icy ground. His eyebrows had been burned off, and red blisters covered his rage-filled face.

  Astrid saw the touchless strike coming at Jiri by the way Wilfred pulled his hands back, palms up. She hurled herself in front of the force just in time.

  The telekinetic blast shook her to her very bones and the blue flash happened again, blinding her for an instant. Someone nearby yelped in surprise and Wilfred looked shocked as Astrid charged him with her eyes glowing electric blue.

  Jiri was now free to deal with a group of regular estate soldiers who rushed toward them with swords drawn.

  Astrid clenched her teeth. Wilfred was smart; he did not underestimate her. He conserved his magical energy and attacked with his sword.

  Astrid brought the rope weapon into play and spun it above her head with her right hand. She kept the other dart in her left, ready to lash out in defense. She also didn’t underestimate him.

  The sword whooshed as it sliced through the air in front of her face, just missing her. Too close, she thought. She tried to get in close to make the line wrap around his neck.

  It didn’t work.

  Wilfred shifted to defense in the blink of an eye and brought his sword between them, pommel up. The move was awkward and risky, but it worked. He allowed the silksteel line to wrap once around his arm, then danced back and pulled, taking Astrid with him. He was in control.

  Wilfred planted a touchless strike between her breasts and the chest plate drove the air from her lungs and broke at least one rib. Astrid was in trouble; Wilfred was as smart as he was strong.

  Astrid managed to recover by letting the force of the blow carr
y her back and around. She let the rope unwrap from her waist as she turned into a spinning top. She crouched and swung her left leg out in an attempted sweep.

  Wilfred had to let go, but now her rope was on the ground. She pulled it back to get the dart into play again, which gave Wilfred enough time to press his offense.

  The Well was already healing the rib; she felt the energy flow from deep within her. Static electricity crackled across her face, then ran across her chest and down her arms as she faced Wilfred again.

  She was as surprised as Wilfred at the new magical effects. She only hoped that surprise didn’t show on her face like it did on his.

  “Behind you!” Jiri bellowed and Astrid jumped left. Several crossbow bolts glanced off her right ribs and buttocks. The sacred steel plates blocked most of the force, but some caught her in the webbing between plates, making her flinch.

  Wilfred had to block several other bolts that missed Astrid completely. “Fools!” he screeched.

  “They’re panicking, Wilfred,” Astrid remarked as Jiri torched the line of crossbowmen. “Just like you.”

  “You flatter yourself.” Wilfred parried, and sent two touchless strikes.

  Astrid blocked them, but not easily. Those hits left instant bruises. But one thing was certain—his strikes were getting weaker.

  The courtyard was in utter chaos. People ran in all directions. Some of the Civil Guard chased after their colleagues since the uniforms made it hard to tell them apart from their enemies. Those small lapel pins were hard to spot.

  But now Jiri was by her side and they faced the Mover together.

  Wilfred crouched, then launched himself backward into the air. He landed on the roof of the building behind him.

  “Coward,” Jiri called.

  “Fools,” Wilfred riposted with a sinister smile.

  Enemy guard and estate soldiers streamed into the courtyard through the open gate. They poured from buildings and doorways across the compound.

  “That’s not good,” Jiri remarked.

  “Just a bit more work,” Astrid quipped as Jiri turned.

  They pressed their backs together and circled as the crowd closed in.