by B. H. Young
"I should be so lucky," Martha said and twisted up the corner of her mouth. "He says they'll be in Spero next. You have family there do you not?"
"An uncle... or rather I used to. He's been dead for sometime now."
"Come in," Martha replied to the stern knock at their door.
Paython Reiner, stood in the doorway, strapping, and proper, as he was known to be. "Excuse me, ladies. Martha, Overseer Lisbet requests your presence in the courtyard immediately if you please."
"I will be right down."
"Very well then," he said, bowed, and left.
Giggling with excitement, she pulled her coat from the cabinet, threw it on, and stood with strict posture as if an embodiment of pure conceitedness. "How do I look?" she asked, holding her chin high.
"Like a lucky dog."
Martha giggled and ran over to Lacy and planted a heavy kiss on her cheek before running out of the room. "Be back soon," she said.
Martha had to restrain herself from bursting into a full run and darting down the hall like a touched fool. The courtyard was busy as she brushed by some fellow recruits that paid curious glares of envy to her. She knew her face looked something silly; it always did when she tried to contain her excitement.
Overseer Lisbet stood with company near the gate wearing a smile as Martha approached them. She pulled a sheathed sword and held it out to Martha. Martha's eyes glimmered with admiration. Sure, she had seen plenty of swords before and there was nothing particularly special about this one. It just seemed more beautiful and honorable as it lay across the giving hands of an Overseer. It rested in a single strap sheath attached to a belt with a thick leather buckle bearing the Iron insignia. Martha was doing her best to not break out into frantic laughing like a simpleton.
"You'll be needing this, Martha," Overseer Lisbet said.
She took the sword and belt and wrapped it around her waist holding the buckle a moment after latching it, staring in appreciation. "Thank you Overseer Lisbet," she said
"You are welcome my dear." Overseer Lisbet held her hand to the three Irons at her back. "You know Paython, Jack, and Eric, they will be accompanying us. We must always have at least three seasoned Irons when taking recruits into the field." She turned back to Martha with a playful squint. "Besides, they need to be learned by some proper Iron women," she said and Martha's cheeks rose hard.
Jack Bonaly was larger than most of the other Irons, a gentle giant with a shyness that one would not expect from someone of his stature. Eric Van Nostrand was clean-cut and well spoken; a generous man who sent more than half of his wages back home every month to support his ailing mother and younger sister, Martha had heard. Paython she knew the best. He was her alchemist tutor for a short time, he was a nice young man who forgone the path to be a studying meister at Spire Hall in favor of the Iron High Guard.
"Yes of course," Martha said greeting them all with a kind wave.
"As you all know the old Belveen Fort has become the residence for a group of thieves as of late. Not terribly dangerous with their actions, they should not give us too much trouble. I'd say it's a fair guess that they are nightsolt fiends as well. Hopefully, it will be a quick charge and carry task. It's only twenty miles from here so we will not be taking a cell carriage, they can walk behind in chains giving them time to reflect on their misdeeds. Paython, If you please," she said directing him towards the seat of the carriage.
Nodding with affirmation, he climbed up onto the carriage seat and took the horse's reins in his hands. Martha followed behind Eric and Jack into the carriage and took a seat in the front quarter and Overseer Lisbet climbed in and sat beside her.
Paython snapped the reins once everyone was in and guided the carriage out of the Iron Gate, speeding down the winding road and through the streets of Iron Town. Eric and Jack immediately began trading humorous stories that even drew a chuckle or two from Overseer Lisbet. Every now and then Overseer Lisbet would correct a detail or two and then favor Martha a smile. Overseer Lisbet was not as crude or as hard as Gelfradus and Hacan, she thought. Those two were rusted nails and seemed to go out of their way to belittle anyone. Hateful spirits who thrived on their position of power, but just and fair, Godzton use to tell her.
The winds had subsided letting the cool air rest in the sky that showed blue feathered with gray as she stared the passing scenery. There would not be many days like this, Martha thought. The excitement for a task would one day be absent she knew. It all eventually settles in to be nothing more than a duty, a labor. The Iron deals with the worst filth the kingdom can offer and one would be strange to find thrill in trailing those depths. She would enjoy it while it lasted though.
The three men walked in front of Martha a ways further along the trail leading into the glade were Fort Belveen stood. Overseer Lisbet walked beside her. Overcome with nervousness but still very excited, she had trained at the compound for two years and felt more than ready. However, training and doing were two very different things and try as she might Martha could not ignore the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. She did her best to hide it from Overseer Lisbet fearing she may think less of her. Overseer Lisbet did notice however and placed her arm around Martha's back causing her to jump a little.
"It's okay to be nervous Martha, you wouldn't be normal if you had no fear at all." She leaned in closer as they walked. "You are more than ready and there is no need for you to doubt that," she said with a reassuring voice.
"Do you ever get nervous?"
"All the time my dear."
The Belveen Fort stood in the distance covered in shadows below the trees. The men were arming themselves Martha saw. Paython and Eric both had short swords while Jack held a long heavy War hammer of intimidation. Overseer Lisbet pulled her sword and Martha followed her lead, trying not to show anxious intent.
"The Belveen Fort is three floors deep. Paython and Eric you will sweep the first floor, Jack you take the second, Martha and I will take the bottom. Once your floor is cleared proceed to the next to check on the others and make sure they haven't been knocked on their ass by some hiding vagrant," she said.
"I hope there are some rats to deal with," Jack said looking at his hammer.
"Well that is why we are here," Paython said.
"Jack refers to any scum criminal as rats," Eric said to Martha and she smiled.
"Please, everyone, be careful." Overseer Lisbet's face grew faint with concern. "Let us proceed."
The old fort was ancient and massive in size. It could house the entire residents of a small village Martha thought as they entered. A few lit torches in the main hall and a glow emanating up from the center stairs gave an indication of occupants. She tightened her stomach and stayed close to the group. Overseer Lisbet signaled Paython and Eric to proceed clearing the quarters of the main hall as she, Martha, and Jack went down the stairs. The dry air grew colder to Martha with each descending step she took following behind Overseer Lisbet. Jack broke off from them right away disappearing into a black filled archway on the second floor. More lit torches graced her eyes and the frigid air of the bottom floor amplified her nerves.
Martha tightened her grip around her swords handle and took a deep breath. Light or not the place was still very unsettling and creepy. Its halls were littered with old furniture covered in dust and spider webs and the foundation still creaked of settling. The foul smell of something rotting sickened her but she could not see the source. Overseer Lisbet led from the front with caution, stepping slow and Martha stayed on her heels as they traveled from room to room. She tried to emulate Overseer Lisbet who seemed calm and sure of herself. Such a paragon to aspire to, but her heart raced and her stomach bubbled, worried she may pass out or worse, throw up all over the back of an Overseer. That would be a very embarrassing story to tell and bring endless mockery.
They had cleared the east wing of the third floor and proceeded to the west wing. Martha glanced over the old prison cells throughout the hall, that large spiders had made grand homes of with thic
k walls and cones of webbing. The Belveen Fort was unfamiliar to her, its history secret but the sight of so many cells with worn tools of torture gave her the assumption it was a brutal place of misery and pain once.
Weird markings graced the center wall of the room with six or so candles lit at its base. It was ritualistic in it's design, with what looked to be a three-headed lizard drawn in the center. Kitchenware sat the large table with looks of use as of late. The sight of two bodies huddled in the far corner, dipped in darkness, startled her and she jumped her hand to Overseer Lisbet's shoulder, looked to her questioning eyes, and then directed them to the far corner.
"Dammit," Overseer Lisbet said.
Martha's nerves shook her once more when the men pushed through the door the other end of the room. Overseer Lisbet paid her a questioning, yet endearing, look. It was embarrassing. Irons do not startle, Martha thought, or yelp at the sight of dead bodies.
"We found nothing up top except a few gnawed upon scraps," Paython said entering into the room with Jack and Eric trailing.
"Yes, it seems someone already done this lot in." Overseer Lisbet sheathed her sword, tilted her head to the far corner, and then turned to Martha. "I'm sorry my dear. This is not how I planned this outing to go."
Hoping to find thieves sitting about and catch them off guard instead, they only found their corpses. Martha put her sword away, disappointed, but maintained a faint smile so as not to give an obvious pout.
"It's okay." Martha smiled. "We can't win them all at least it got me out of the compound if only for a bit," she said.
"What's that shit?" Jack said signaling to the center wall.
"Some rubbish symbol of worship it looks like," Overseer Lisbet said with a miffed voice.
"Someone done these poor bastards in badly," Eric said as he hovered over the bodies. "Punched with a hundred holes or more it looks like and their starting to rot."
"Good," Paython said.
"There's nothing we can do here now." Overseer Lisbet sighed.
"Sorry we didn't find any rats," Paython said as he clapped Jack on his shoulder.
"No, but we did find us a quiet mouse," Overseer Lisbet said with a flat voice.
Martha's smiling face shifted in perplexity to her words, and then the sharp force engulfed her face knocking her back onto the table. Disoriented, her nose throbbed with furious pain and she could feel the blood flowing down her cheeks.
Jack had slammed his elbow into her face breaking her nose; her vision blurred and she tried to regain composure from the unexpected action and instinctively reached for her sword, a punch to the side of the head from Eric stopped her; he then ripped her belt and sword from her waist. Dazed, even more, another blow came from Paython that sent her crashing to her knees. Confused and panicked, Martha wanted to make sense of it as quickly as she could, but there was no making sense of it. Her brothers and sister of Iron had turned and aimed to do her harm.
As she whimpered and tried to crawl away with feeble attempt, Overseer Lisbet threw her boot into her rib's tumbling her over. With agonizing cries, Martha laid curled as they all stood around her like wolves. She did not understand what was happening and could not believe that, in fact, it was happening. It all hurt so badly, like pain she'd never been privy to. Her eyes washed over with tears and only smudged turncoats stood above her in a disoriented spectrum that could not make sense.
"Why... why are you doing this?" Martha asked gurgling in pain like a small child.
"Did you honestly think you were that clever? M.G." Overseer Lisbet kneeled down to her. "Oh I could care less of your relationship, but I honestly did not think he would uncover what he has and then he went and drug you into it."
"I... I don't understand," Martha cried. The throbbing in her body stung and was relentless in its efforts.
"Oh I think you do dear," Overseer Lisbet said, grinned and brushed her fingers at Martha's hair. "I honestly did not think you'd be able to gain access to the Crown List. Then Godzton's report came the other day informing me the list had been changed."
"He only asked me to get the names on the list," Martha said. "Why was that wrong?"
Overseer Lisbet threw her braided ponytail from her shoulder to her back. "Yes my dear names on a list whose order is crucial to the Eldafienden."
"You are an Overseer, an Iron, you swore an oath... all of you did," Martha cried out.
"The days of the Iron are coming to an end. Their oaths are merely empty words of ancient times. I do admire your loyalty, my dear; it's a shame that it is misplaced, though, you would have made a good addition. I'm so disappointed."
Paython and Eric pulled Martha from the floor and threw her face down over the end of the table. She cried and pleaded with wild attempt and they responded with furious blows to her small body, screaming slanderous words at her as each of them pulled one of her arms to the side of the slab holding her, flat to the tabletop. Her face slid along the table in a pool of her blood and tears. They were too strong for her to break free from her pinned position but she continued trying. She did not want to die like this. Through the corner of her eye, she could see Jack's large frame taking position behind her.
She screamed, shaking the air with her wet, choked, voice. "Please... please don't!"
There was a brief pain that seemed to push with a heavy covering force more than it hurt.
Chapter 21.
Within Riverton Hold's market alley people scurried at the merchant stands like starving rats. A common clamoring practiced each new day by the residents looking to score deals. Lucinda brushed by them grunting as she adjusted her body to slip through holes in the crowds. Her guardsmen did no such contorting as they followed and knocked individuals aside. She picked an apple from the fruit stand and glanced at the ragged merchant who bowed his head. A small luxury of being in the top bloodline of the Mathayus, not that she would have paid for it anyways.
The sparring grounds would normally be empty this early in the day, but she glimpsed a fallacy showing of perversion. Dethal was at its center training Kal, a young Mathayus warrior and very distant cousin. Lucinda stopped, took a bite of her apple, and gazed in judgment. It was obvious to her that Dethal was trying to indulge himself in the touch of a young man with false pretenses; such was a habit of his. Five summers back, he had persuaded a local butcher's son to his quarters and then, against the young man's will, had his way with the poor fool. Lord Willem made sure the butcher, his son, daughter, and wife disappeared before sun up so as for there to be no early words of wild tongues. Dethal was so pathetic he did not even try to hide what he was doing, but young Kal was too stupid to see it. Stalking with a devious grin, she made her way into the arena with her guardsmen at her flank and leaned against the railing watching like a perched buzzard as she nibbled at the apple.
Dethal was a handsome man who could have the undying affection of a woman of his choosing. Yet a woman was not what he wanted. How the Gods could curse him with such looks only to then have him, hunger for the touch of a man was a yarn she could never understand. It was pitiful to even humor the idea he was actually trying to help the young man. She giggled loud as he sidestepped and grabbed Kal's arm and folded it back to him while pulling him close. Dethal ignored her taunting laughs, pretending she was not there, but Lucinda would not be ignored by the likes of him, so she giggled louder with each move Dethal made on the young man.
Dethal countered Kal's slow advance using his sword to push Kal's blade high into the air as he grabbed his wrist and slipped behind him holding him tight. It was not a good sign that the younger Mathayus generation was so oblivious. If you don't know when one is trying to bed you how the hell will you know when someone is trying to kill you, she thought. It was deplorable that a skilled warrior such as Dethal would go to such lengths to gain self-relief of his desires. The next thing you know he would have the young fool in his chambers convincing him that laying with another male before battle would bring luck and it was Kal's duty to do so.
"Careful, Kal," Lucinda yelled, "in a few more moves he'll have you in his bed and his cock up your ass, or yours up his? I was never clear which way he liked it?" She made sure all those passing by the arena heard her words.
Kal grimaced with narrow eyes and moved away from Dethal's grasp quickly. A crowd had now started to form outside the arena. Everyone knew the animosity between Lucinda and Dethal could always lead to a grand show of bickering and served for mild entertainment.
Dethal sneered and cut his eyes to his meddling cousin, and tried to ignore the humiliation. "Don't you have a small animal somewhere to torture or perhaps fuck both of your mindless guards!" Dethal roared. The anger in him was as visible as the daunting sky.
Lucinda belched a laugh, tossed her apple, and walked towards Dethal and young Kal with her guardsmen trailing her. "I already did one of those things and why torture a small animal when I have you, dear cousin... darling Dethal," she said and grinned. "What's the matter? Did the stable boy quit letting you plow him? So now you need to coerce another young man into your bed."
"I'm warning you, you little bitch."
"Such language. Kal, did you not know that Dethal prefers the company of men." She walked behind Dethal and ran her hands to the sides of his bottom. "Oh yes, he eerily detest the mere touch of a woman but overcomes with joy to the touch of a man, particularly young ones." She moved her face over his shoulder from behind. "Tell me Kal, how old are you now? Fifteen?"
The young warrior stood with much discomfort, hesitant to answer but then said, "Seventeen," Kal said.
"Oh, I'm afraid you are too old then for our darling Dethal," she said and chuckled tapping her fingers along Dethal's hips.
Dethal grew pale and tightened his stomach to calm the unsettling feeling of her slow gliding hand running across his lower back. She had made a mockery of him under many gazing eyes with her childish meddling and now was trying to make him sick with her inappropriate touching. A sheen of sweat now rested on his face and his breath had hardened. Stepping away from her with a snap, he swung a clenched fist across the side of her face. Lucinda yelped as she fell into the cold dirt. Young Kal threw his sword down and ran from the sparring grounds in a panic.