by Guy Antibes
Both wardens walked up to him. “I’m making sure my little pet doesn’t stray,” Pacci said as he joined them. “We will all walk together. If any of you try something, she dies. Do you understand?”
Ricky understood and expected something like this from Antino Pacci. “Move out!” Warden Pacci yelled. A light snow began to fall as they commenced their march. Pacci wanted to be up front. He strutted along, giving stupid instructions to Nania to move faster or move slower. All the battle mages were surrounded by guards. These wore green coats, but they were different from the ones the Juvenile Home guards wore. Perhaps the duke’s men all wore green.
It made sense to Ricky. Then all they had to do was kill blue uniforms, but Ricky didn’t know what color coats the King’s soldiers wore. He saw the other boys shiver. Ricky was far from shivering. He even felt a drop of sweat trickle down his face.
“How is your rear end, Valian?” Pacci said.
“Little better, Warden Pacci, but it won’t affect my battle sorcery. You can count on that.” Pacci wasn’t particularly pleased with Ricky’s response. He looked further behind and spotted Mattia, whose eyes never left Pacci’s back. He’d done what he could to protect Warden Sarini; now it was time for him to protect the rest.
Gil wasn’t too far away. He drifted close to him.
“Get the boys to march in units. Remember, no running until the battle begins. If you are together, it will be easier to overcome the guards.”
After looking at one of the new guards, Gil nodded. “No one is running, not after what Master Mattia said. I’ll pass the word.”
In ten minutes or so, Ricky heard the shuffling of feet behind him and looked back. Most of the inmates marched in definable groups. He nodded to Gil and moved back towards Kela and Siria.
“What are you doing?” Gil asked.
“My surprises. I’ve enlisted some help for Warden Sarini as well. I don’t know if it will come until it’s too late.”
A Home guard ran up to Pacci gasping for air. Whatever the guard said made Pacci’s face turn red.
“Valian! Come here!”
“If I’m unable, make sure you both shed those cloaks and leave the field when the battle begins.”
He slowed up and let Pacci come to him.
“What is it, Warden Pacci?”
Pacci struck Ricky across his scalp with his leather-covered metal switch. “What did you do to Pisan?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Ricky said. He wiped a trickle of blood dripping into his eyebrow. He took deep breaths to steady himself from the pain.
“Pisan is dead. Someone used a switch on him,” Pacci said loudly.
Ricky looked at the Warden’s weapon. “Did you kill him, Warden?”
Nania gasped at Ricky’s words. Pacci hit him repeatedly on his shoulder.
“Walk forward, Valian,” Pacci hissed. He began to hit Ricky across his backside. “You think you are so smart, so talented. I hate you, and today you will get the reward you so justly deserve.”
Ricky staggered under the onslaught.
“Stand up, you pathetic human being. Walk with the other battle mages. Go!”
At the warden’s instruction, Ricky hobbled to Siria and Kela. He nearly collapsed into Siria but straightened up. Gil ran to his side.
“Can you carry on? Will you have to drop out?”
“And get killed by the duke’s guards? Hardly.” Ricky straightened up. His bottom hurt, but Pacci would have to get through about eight layers of clothing to do any damage. He pretended to stagger into Gil and heard some gasps behind him. But he paused a step and took a deep breath and marched on.
Siria clapped her hands silently in front of her, out of Pacci’s sight. “You are a performer.”
Ricky’s grimace turned into a smile. “Thank you.” He returned to a grimace.
Kela put her hand to her mouth. “I thought—”
“I told you I had a plan. That was part of it fulfilled. Unfortunately, it was the easiest.”
“Is Leon Pisan really dead?” Siria asked.
“By my hand, if Pacci’s accusations are true. He tried to kill me after he killed the Building Two cleaning ladies.”
“Those nice old ladies?”
“They weren’t very nice to me,” Ricky said.
“I hate Pisan,” Kela said. “He was always leering at us and showing up on our floor at odd times.”
“No need to hate him any longer. He’s gone on to a worse place, I’m sure,” Ricky said. “How far to the barracks?”
“We are about halfway there,” Siria said. She looked up into the lowering sky. “It looks like this snow is getting worse.”
“Weather is a great equalizer, I read,” Ricky said. He hoped the snow wouldn’t be too thick and ruin his act. He only hoped he would have a chance to perform.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
~
T HE SNOW BEGAN TO ACCUMULATE. Ricky slipped once on the edge of a cobble and looked back to see more of the same behind him. He hoped the flurry would be over and the sun would come out, at least to melt the snow and give his boys good footing when they raced out of the square.
He glanced back at Pacci, who glared at him and struck Warden Sarini on the back with his switch. She barely flinched. The ratty cloaks were serving their purpose. He told himself not to look back again. Pacci would probably beat her again and again, each time to intimidate him. Ricky refused to let that happen to her.
After more marching, Ricky saw the road open up into a large square. Walls dominated the far end.
“The barracks?” Kela asked.
Siria nodded.
“No wonder the Duke of Applia needs a diversion. The wall even has crenelations. It looks impregnable. Pacci expected us to dismantle it using our sorcery?” Ricky said.
Siria shook her head. “I think we are here to add additional irritation.”
The snow stopped in little fitful bursts, and then sunlight began to bathe the square.
“Don’t stand there gawking. Move two-thirds of the way across the square and then stop,” Pacci said.
Ricky looked at the alleys and the side streets leading into the square as they walked. They were filled with green-jacketed men, staring at them. An inmate bolted from the column. A guard chased after him and ran him through with his sword.
The units stopped. A hush filled the square as most eyes were drawn to the dying boy, crawling on the cobbles. The guard stabbed him again to stop the crawling. Ricky curled his fist in rage. He held it up. Saganet belonged to the Order of the Curled Fist, whatever that was. Ricky understood the name better now. He gritted his teeth and began walking towards the impregnable wall.
“We aren’t quite far enough,” Siria said. “We are to walk about ten paces forward.”
Ricky looked ahead. The walls were filled with men dressed in black trimmed with light blue. He thought that everyone could know who everyone else was. He finally uncurled his fist and found it wet. He wiped his sweat on the red cloak.
Siria pulled out a sheet of paper. “Pacci’s instructions,” she said. “We are to approach the wall on our own and attempt to tear down the wall.”
Kela shook her head. “Impossible.”
“Then we are to kill as many men as we can who lean over to watch our work.”
“Impossible,” Kela said.
“Shall I read number three?”
“Go on,” Ricky said. “Is fire number three?”
She shook her head. “Make others faint.”
Kela broke into laughter. “I don’t believe it. Is Warden Pacci so infantile?”
Siria began to laugh as well. “Fire is number four.”
“Here comes Five,” Ricky said. He shouted, and the arrow skidded on the ground to lie at his feet. “How convenient. Our missile bears a message.”
He bent down and let out a groan. Ricky wondered if Pacci laughed at him just as they had laughed at Pacci. He pulled the message off and tossed the
arrow aside. “Give me the instructions, please,” Ricky said to Siria.
Ricky put the message on top of the instructions so Pacci wouldn’t see him reading.
Ricky,
As you can tell, I made it to the barracks and informed General Farlotti of the Duke’s plan. They knew of the possibility of rebellion, but not the strategy. I’m afraid the General would have fallen for the ploy. Bring your inmates close to the wall. The soldiers will open the gates but will attack the Applians hidden in the alleys. It would be appreciated if the boys would do their part to save their lives, even if it is to clear the killing field of the square.
- Saganet
By the way, Effie is out there with the intent of saving your friend, the warden.
Ricky grinned. Hope had flooded him. The battle hadn’t even started, but now he had help. He turned back and motioned Gil to join him.
“Change of plans. We have made contact with the soldiers in the barracks. When the gates open, run to the wall. The soldiers will not attack you but will go after the Applian militia in green. Do you understand? Let the soldiers through, and then, if you have to fight someone, fight the duke’s men.”
Gil grinned. “That gives us a chance to stay alive, doesn’t it?”
Ricky clapped Gil on the shoulder. “We won’t all make it, but we won’t all die. Make Warden Sarini proud.”
Gil returned to his troops.
“We go closer to the wall,” Ricky said to Kela and Siria. He judged he had gone far enough. Saganet stood on the closest parapet.
“Do you want to surrender now or later?” Ricky yelled up to him.
“We’ll go for later,” Saganet said.
“Play along for a bit. Wave your arms or stamp your feet. Step away from the crenellation,” Ricky said. He hummed to find the right resonance and then sent a force of air into the top of the wall. A few stones from the crenellation’s top blew off. Ricky didn’t have the power to do anything else, even if he wanted to.
He could hear the cheers from the units behind him.
“Stand back!” Ricky yelled.
He bathed the wall with fire. It didn’t even reach halfway up the wall.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Saganet called down.
“No, just wait,” Ricky said, but he stopped as he heard wheels trundling behind him.
Ricky looked at one of Pacci’s surprises. A team of huge draft horses pulled a battering ram into the square. Ricky had never seen one before. An upper support structure anchored thick ropes that suspended the ram. He could see that invaders would pull the ram back and then let it slam into the gate. Inmates from the third unit provided human cover for the men underneath the ram’s roof.
He hadn’t counted on something so huge. Other than the men who operated the ram, none of the duke’s regular forces had yet stepped into the square. Ricky was unable to do anything amidst the inmate army. The ram rolled in front of the thick wooden doors. The soldiers threw rocks down on a stout wooden roof that ran along the length of the contraption, shedding the missiles. Some of the rocks bounced into the inmates.
The men pulled the ram back and let it swing into the door.
Ricky told Kela and Siria to make a few soldiers on the wall faint. He chanced to look at Pacci, who wore a despicable look of triumph on his face. The leash on Warden Sarini went slack. Ricky spotted Effie, dressed in a blue coat creep behind Pacci. He had no idea where she got a uniform.
Another blow boomed out into the square. Every head turned at the terrible sound. Ricky looked back again. Pacci stretched out on the ground. Mattia ran behind Effie and Warden Sarini as they fled into a house.
With the warden free from Pacci, Ricky took a deep breath. The time had arrived for his performance. He sang a single clear note for a moment and flew to the top of the wall, where he took a deep breath and shouted. Filled with the power, he pointed one of his switches at the roof of the ram and spelled a foot-thick snake of flame. The flames fed a growing ball that coalesced on top of the ram. It built to a sufficient size when Ricky ended the snake.
“Duck!” He yelled and jumped off the crenellation into Saganet just as the square erupted in an explosion. Ricky expected a hiss or something, but the wall shook from the force.
He peeked over the wall after the sparkles had rained on them for a moment. His spell obliterated the ram. Ricky felt someone pull on his sleeve.
“Merry! You shouldn’t be up here.”
She grinned mischievously. “I wanted to see you perform. I missed your last one, remember?”
“There is more. Make my voice project. I don’t know how to do it.”
“Hold my hand and speak.”
She began to chant.
Ricky raised an arm and shouted. The disk of light that wowed them at the Novice Competition grew large and expanded through the inmate army, dissipating midway through the square.
“Inmates! Come to me. Fight for Paranty against the usurper, the Duke of Applia. Run if you must, but if you want to free yourselves from your sentences, come to me. Fight on the right side, my side!” He raised his arms beckoning the blue troops to the wall.
He cast off the red coat, letting it flutter to the ground. Kela and Siria did the same, then he flew off the parapet and landed on top of the ruins of the ram.
“Get this debris out of the way so the troops can come out.”
The Applian militia began to flood into the square. The smaller units of the inmates began to defend themselves as they moved. Ricky kept motioning the inmates to get close to the wall and organize into defensive units.
“Defense. Don’t attack or you’ll be cut down. Use the remains of the catapult as a barricade,” he yelled. Ricky didn’t have Merry to amplify his voice, but the inmates caught on.
Pacci stood, a sword in one hand and his whip in another, as the royal army rode out of the gate. The Duke of Applia’s strategy had worked, but the odds had changed.
In front of Ricky’s eyes, green fought with black. Ricky wore black, but he wondered if he could prevail in a fight with Pacci. The man locked eyes on him and advanced. Ricky took a step back, his mind uncertain as to the outcome of a match with Pacci. The man sneered, and Ricky instinctively flinched. He was afraid.
Pacci laughed and struck Ricky with his switch. The blow hurt, but he still wore layers of clothing. How could he become so afraid? Fear nearly began to rule him. Ricky’s mind turned to the words in the sorcery book. Depression after magic! He was taken again by the aftereffects of the spell.
Ricky took a deep breath and sent out a lick of purple flame to cover Pacci’s arm. It was an illusion, of course, but Pacci dropped his switch. Ricky dove for it and rolled away from Pacci’s sword as it slammed into the ground where he had been. Ricky jumped to his feet. He moved the switch back and forth, exercising the depression away.
Pacci’s metal switch was better-balanced and stiffer than Ricky’s old one, but it ended with a leather knob rather than a sharp tip. He wouldn’t be using the switch to kill. Pacci must have been more of an assassin than a swordsman because his sword skills didn’t come close to Effie or Saganet’s.
Ricky decided he would punish the warden. He was vaguely aware of the action surrounding him. They danced around each other. Pacci was better-conditioned than Ricky thought. He drew the man into the opening of an alley. Ricky could see the action of the battle move away from them. That would suit him well.
He struck and hit Pacci’s left hand. He hit it again and again and again until the warden tucked it behind his back. Ricky ducked and dodged Pacci’s sword strokes, using the switch to parry, parry, and parry again, until the inevitable opening occurred where Ricky would punish Pacci.
The warden had to pause to take a breath, and that’s when Ricky struck him across the face. The man screamed. Ricky followed it up with a straight poke into his stomach before attacking his head.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Pacci yelled, holding his arms over his head.
Ricky refused to stop
and continued to rain blow after blow on him. Pacci finally collapsed to the ground. Ricky dragged him out into the square and left him bloodied and beaten.
Mattia suddenly stood in front of Ricky. Keeping his eyes on Ricky, he raised his blade and plunged it into Pacci’s body. The warden had enough consciousness left to scream before he went limp.
“That’s for Nania,” Mattia said quietly. He nodded at Ricky and threw himself at an Applian militiaman.
Just moments later, horns sounded. The fighting ebbed, and then it stopped. Ricky looked across the square. There were many more black-clad fighters standing than green. The militia that still stood began to run for their lives. His eyes swiveled towards the wall. His heart sank as he saw blue bodies mixed with green, but to his eye, many of the inmates had survived the battle of the barracks.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
~
R ICKY GASPED FOR AIR AS HE STILL STOOD with Pacci’s switch in his hand. He saw the bright red hair of Siria against the wall bent over an injured inmate. As Ricky made his way through the carnage, he sighed at the needless deaths. He looked back at Pacci’s body sprawled out on the cobbles. That was a needful death, he thought.
Kela popped up and ran to him. “Are you all right?”
“I suppose,” he said. “Mattia killed Pacci at the end. How bad?”
“Siria thinks Gil may not make it,” she said, “but over half will survive.”
“Young Valian,” the Home’s healer said, “do you need assistance?”
He shook his head. “Not me, I’m just tired.” He looked down and saw blood dripping from his fingers. Pacci must have cut him, but he hadn’t noticed. “Save as many as you can.”
The healer grinned. “That’s my job. I just got here. I suppose you spoiled the duke’s party?”
“I did indeed,” Ricky said.
“Good for all of us. I hate the man. Someone even got to Pacci, I saw.” The healer looked heavenward. “It’s a grand day.” He shook his head and hurried to help the injured.