Will (Book 2)

by S. F. Burgess

  As the deep, dulcet harmonies rolled over the stunned crowd, Will looked out beyond the mirrored lights of the stage. Many people sat with wide eyes and dropped jaws; some had their eyes closed and rocked gently, and a few even had tears running down their faces. An Avatar did this—brought beauty and joy to these people. However briefly, she has made their lives a little brighter. If only they knew, perhaps they’d fear us less.

  Will’s gaze moved across the faces in the crowd, but the warm feeling inside him turned to chill dread when he came to Nicolas’s face. The man stared at Eleanor as if she were his possession.

  Leaning behind the carts, where the others were getting ready for Act Two, Will caught Davlin’s eye and motioned him over.

  “Seated in the chairs, first row, black eyes,” he said, watching Davlin’s expression darken as he found Nicolas. Will was suddenly very glad Davlin was on their side. “Do not let Eleanor out of your sight while we are here,” Will added.

  “Do you want me to dispose of him?” Davlin asked. “I cannot imagine he would be a great loss to the world.”

  “Beyond the whole ‘It is wrong to kill’ thing, that would not exactly be keeping us ‘low profile’, would it?” Will said with mild exasperation.

  Davlin shrugged. “I murdered people for years and never got caught. I can manage this.”

  “Davlin, you lived in the shadows then. It is much harder to pin something on someone you cannot see. But now you have stepped into the light, and such actions would make us all vulnerable. In small communities like this, unexplained deaths usually get blamed on the first stranger they come across.”

  “You are embracing the role of the Sage,” Davlin said.

  Will rolled his eyes at Davlin’s impertinence. “Keep her safe and do not kill anybody. We can leave here when they open the gates in the morning. We just have to protect her until then.”

  “No harm will come to her,” Davlin assured him.

  The audience seemed more relaxed in the second act, laughing in all the right places and cheering the Hero on in his quest. Will was relieved when the large frame and rollers, which gave the impression of the characters walking a long distance, actually worked. Freddie’s last-minute cooking-fat solution to the sticking problem was genius. In the second ‘interlude’, Moylan, Elroy and Teris showed off some of their impressive tumbling and acrobatics, which they had turned into a comedy sketch by having the Idiot crash their act. Will took it as a good sign that most people sat and laughed, as he had been told the second interlude was usually the time most got up to stretch their legs and answer calls of nature. Act Three was excitement and battles from start to finish. Here, their fighting skills were truly tested. Where do they get the energy? Will wondered with a yawn, watching Davlin ‘die’, moaning and groaning in Freddie’s arms for about the hundredth time. At least the overacting has calmed down. The scene had actual pathos now, but Will was more interested in Nicolas, who was still watching Eleanor with a creepy intensity.

  As Freddie faked his sword plunge through Elroy, killing the evil Usurper, the audience began clapping. The swell of appreciation grew to include cheering as Freddie pulled Eleanor back, kissing her soundly, before putting her back on her feet. Amid the wildly ecstatic audience, only one person seemed to be still: Nicolas, who stared at Freddie with bitter enmity. Great, now we have to keep an eye on Freddie as well as Eleanor.

  Later, once their audience had departed for their beds, Will was directing the tidying up of the props and the stage lights when he heard a cough behind him. Turning, he found Nicolas smiling politely. A huge brute of a man stood with him, his shirt straining across his barrelled chest; a nose that appeared to have been broken many times occupied most of his face, and his pale eyes were watchful.

  “I have been sent to collect our playing charge,” Nicolas said, his voice louder than it needed to be. He stepped uncomfortably close to Will and spoke again in a whisper. “And also to discuss a private matter. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  Here we go…

  “Certainly; follow me,” Will said, heading for the cart. Inside, he sat at the table. Nicolas sat at the other side without being offered a seat and the… Goon? Thug? Bodyguard? All three?—Will had no idea—stood with his arms crossed, head bent down slightly to fit under the cart’s roof, dominating the small space with his glower. Reaching into a drawer behind him, Will withdrew the smaller of two money bags and pushed it across the table at Nicolas.

  “Thank you, Master Sage,” Nicolas said, making the money disappear into the folds of his cloak. “I very much enjoyed your entertainment tonight. Your troupe are highly skilled.”

  Will smiled and dipped his head in modest acceptance of the compliment. That’s right, you nasty little beast: butter me up while you get to the point.

  “I was especially impressed with the Maiden; she has a singular talent,” Nicolas continued. “I intend to have her, Master Sage. Name your price.”

  Having expected this turn in the conversation, Will kept his face studiously neutral, pretending to think about it. After a suitable amount of time he sighed and shook his head, the growl to his Dwarfish almost apologetic. “I do not think that would be a good idea.”

  “Give me one good reason why you would object,” Nicolas snapped, his civility suddenly straining against the raw anger under the surface.

  Disliking the thought of having to humour the belligerent little toad, but knowing he had to try and talk him out of it, Will considered what reasons he could offer.

  “I can give you three,” Will said, holding Nicolas’s blistering gaze with calm confidence. “Firstly, I have no hold over her; you cannot buy her from me regardless of what you pay me. The Maiden is not mine to give. Secondly, as you have noted, she has considerable talent. If you take her, I would lose out on income I could be earning twenty years hence. And thirdly, I believe you would regret it. She is very stubborn. I have a mule with a sweeter disposition.”

  Will had anticipated several possible responses to his reasons, but Nicolas’s deep, throaty laughter was not one of them.

  “You amuse me, Master Sage,” Nicolas said, between bursts of chuckles.

  You might not find me so amusing when I beat some of that arrogance out of you.

  “I do?” Will replied blandly.

  “I will get what I want. I have more money than you can imagine.” The bragging tone set Will’s teeth on edge. Yes, and which village savings pot did you steal it from, you thieving jerk?

  “I can imagine quite a bit…” Will replied, quoting Han Solo on reflex.

  Nicolas laughed again. “Is he not amusing, Stev?” he asked, turning to the mountain-sized man who still towered over them.

  “Very amusing,” Stev rumbled, giving the impression that talk was boring and he would rather be getting to the punching portion of their visit.

  “I like you, Master Sage,” Nicolas said. Lucky me! “So I will explain why your concerns are irrelevant. I am not paying you for the girl, I am paying you to let me take the girl and not come looking for her. I will give you two thousand gold pieces, more than adequate compensation for your lost earnings. And finally, her stubborn nature is a large part of her… charm.” The black eyes grew hard and cold and there was a harsh snarl of threat under the Dwarfish when Nicolas spoke again. “I want her to resist. After all, there is no fun in breaking something if it is too easy.”

  With huge effort, Will managed to keep the revulsion and anger he was feeling off his face. To maintain their disguise, he had to stay in character, and two thousand gold pieces was a fortune. Any normal Mydren man would happily hand over a wife or a daughter for that much money. I could always say yes, take the money and let Davlin deal with him. It was a tempting thought, but Conlan would not approve. So what other reason could I use? Nicolas was regarding him with a calculating look. Stev shuffled a little closer, causing the cart to rock.

  “I am not a patient man, Master Sage,” Nicolas said, standing and placing his hands
on the table so he could lean over Will. “I will have the Maiden—you have no say in that—but this is the only chance you will have to profit from it.”

  Will had no idea how best to respond, but before he got the chance, Elroy spoke from the open cart door.

  “Master Sage, is everything well with you?”

  “That is the second time one of your troupe has interrupted me, Master Sage,” Nicolas said, his lip curling into a snarl as he looked Elroy up and down. “Stev, teach this boy some manners.”

  Faster than Will would have thought possible given his size, the huge man stamped towards Elroy, shoving him forcibly back out of the door. Will heard the thud and the air whoosh out of Elroy’s lungs as the stunned man landed on his back at the bottom of the steps.

  “He meant no harm, sir,” Will said as calmly as he was able, standing and heading after Stev, who was already marching down the steps toward where Elroy lay gasping for breath. There was not a huge amount Will could do. While the Sage may present a haughty, superior attitude, it was only an act. Players were not held in higher esteem than village councillors in their own village. If it came to a fight, they were all in trouble.

  Do I let Elroy take a beating to protect us all? It was unfair, but was it necessary? Will spotted Conlan stood nearby and could see in his eyes the same internal conflict. Bending down and grasping Elroy’s throat, his hand so large it almost wrapped round his victim’s neck, Stev dragged the struggling man back to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye Will saw Eleanor, fury on her face, take several determined steps forward, before Davlin clapped a hand over her mouth. He pulled her against him and off her feet, then carried her kicking and squirming around the other cart and out of sight.

  With that potential problem taken care of, Will focused on the main one. Stev was drawing back his fist and Elroy’s eyes grew even bigger in his frightened face.

  “Stop it!” Will snapped. He had put every ounce of authority he had into the command, but was still surprised when Stev lowered his hand and gave Nicolas a questioning look.

  “You overestimate your power, Sage,” Nicolas said, a malevolent growl running under the Dwarfish. “This is my village, and things are done my way.”

  “And your way involves beating a defenceless person over an imagined slight?” Will asked. He realised his comment was reckless, but did not know what else to do. His only available weapons were words. Hoping for nothing more than to save Elroy the pain Stev’s massive fist promised, Will continued. “You are not even man enough to deliver this beating yourself. You, sir, are a coward and a bully!”

  Will saw Stev’s lips twitch slightly at his comments. Unfortunately, so did Nicolas.

  “Stev, release the boy,” Nicolas ordered, a crimson blush rising up his face, his expression one of barely controlled rage. Taking a step forward he jabbed a hard finger repeatedly into Will’s chest. “I want this Master Sage to beg at my feet for his agony to stop.”

  Elroy was discarded like something unpleasant, flung to the ground, coughing and gasping. Kip and Arran ran to assist him, helping him to his feet and dragging him out of immediate reach. Stev lumbered round, and Will could see, in the giant man’s cruel smile and excited eyes, the torment he was going to inflict. Why is it I always pick fights with the big ones? The last time he had taken on someone bigger than himself, he had been stabbed for his troubles—and not by the brute, but by the terrified, confused girl he was trying to save from being raped.

  Stev moved slowly towards him, weighing him up. This one’s smarter than the average thug. Will saw no point in putting up a fight. He was tired, not dressed for it, and he was fairly certain Nicolas would not stop until he had made someone bleed. He knew his healing time was slower than an Avatar’s should be, but it was still a lot faster than anything Elroy would be able to match. I’m a much better choice for this dubious honour. However, as much as his conscious mind had made this choice, his subconscious considered him an imbecile and continued to send him information to help him stop the man who was about to beat him to a pulp. Large, but coordinated, light on his feet… I’ll need to step back from my jabs quickly. Few possible soft spots, long reach. Genitals, throat and eyes are primary targets.

  By this time, Stev had reached him and took an experimental swing. Despite his intentions, Will could not bring himself to sacrifice his pride to such an extent that he allowed the slow, clumsy punch to hit him. He rocked back, and Stev’s huge fist hit nothing but air. The excitement in Stev’s eyes increased. Well, at least I have his attention. The next few punches were just as slow and clumsy, designed to lull Will into a false sense of security as he dodged them all.

  “Stand still, Sage,” Nicolas hissed. “And you called me coward!” he added with scorn.

  Will did not listen. His focus was centred solely on Stev. He knew the true attempt to hit him was coming; the big man had expectation written all over his face.

  Are you just going to stand there and let him hit you?

  Amelia’s sudden intrusion into his head sent a flash of pain behind Will’s eyes, totally distracting him, and Stev landed two quick, effortless blows. The one to his stomach took all the air out of his lungs, and the hammer punch to the side of his left eye exploded fireworks through his head. He collapsed, gasping, nausea cramping his insides. His vision blurred, Will watched Freddie take a step closer and was shocked when it was Amelia who stopped him.

  I can help you, you know; you just have to ask, Amelia said, her tone spiked with irritation.

  Amelia, this has to happen or Nicolas is going to send his pet after someone less able to take it, Will replied, trying to get his breathing under control. Blood was tricking into his eye; the blow had torn open the skin.

  I didn’t say this wasn’t necessary, Will. I said I could help, Amelia snapped back. Confused, wondering if it was because of the throbbing behind his eyes, Will shook his head.

  “Get up!” Stev rumbled.

  Stay out of this. There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt, Will said, fighting his robe to get himself back on his feet.

  Will, there’s no need for you to get hurt, Amelia insisted, but it was too late—a huge fist was arcing into his ribs. Will clenched his muscles, hoping to stop the impact from doing any serious injury. Stev shuddered, his fist clearly hitting something solid; the shockwave travelled up his arm and pain marched across his face.

  I didn’t feel a thing, Will thought, his confusion turning into utter bewilderment.

  Fall down and pretend he hit you! Amelia snapped, as a strong ball of air pushed into his side and knocked him over. Stev staggered a few steps back, shaking out his right hand with a gasp of pain. Amelia is shielding, really small shields… Surprised, impressed and confused, Will raised his head to liquid grey eyes and an amused smirk.

  If you can do this, why did you let him hit me? Will asked.

  I wasn’t ready for it the first time, Amelia answered. Sorry, she added.

  “Get up!” Stev rumbled again.

  With a faked groan, his arm wrapped round imaginary broken ribs, Will got back to his feet. Stev moved towards him again, caution in his eyes. Huge fingers grabbed the collar of Will’s robe, holding him in place, while the other fist was drawn back to the huge man’s head. Avatar or not, if he hits me from that angle he’s going to shatter my cheekbone, fracture my eye socket and most likely blind me… and there are times when having a little medical knowledge is really not helpful!

  With a grunt of effort, Stev let the coiled tension loose, and the living weapon exploded towards Will’s head. In the same moment a puff of air moved up the side of his face. Unable to fight the reflex action, Will narrowed his eyes to protect them and turned away slightly from the fast-approaching missile. The balled hand made contact a hair’s-breadth from its target; fascinated, despite the circumstances, Will watched the shock being absorbed through Stev’s hand and heard the distinct brittle crack as bones broke under the force. With a faked groan, drowned out by Stev’s genui
ne cry of pain, Will jerked his head back as if hit and collapsed to the ground, moaning, hands covering his face, smearing the blood across his skin from the cut Stev had already given him.

  Stay down, Amelia instructed him.

  “That is it?” Nicolas asked. “Get up!” The order came with a kick to the leg that Amelia did not stop. His whole thigh going numb, Will swallowed down an expletive and tried to relax his body, giving the impression he had passed out. Seeing the deepening look of confusion on Stev’s face, Will understood why Amelia had let Nicolas’s kick reach him.

  “Stev, kick his teeth out,” Nicolas ordered.

  “I think he has had enough.” Stev’s voice was dull with pain, disbelief and fear. While he obviously did not understand it, Will could hear his reluctance to take the beating further.

  “I said, kick his teeth out,” Nicolas said again, incredulous fury ripping at the Dwarfish.

  Through the gaps in his bloodstained fingers, Will could see Stev in the flickering light of their lanterns. His face looked grey and he was shaking his head.

  “You want him kicked, do it yourself,” Stev spat back, cradling his broken hand against his chest.

  “You are going to regret this,” Nicolas snarled at him.

  I really hope that one day Stev teaches you the stupidity of trying to intimidate those you expect to protect you, Will thought with disgust.

  Hunching his shoulders and sighing, the huge man looked back at where Will lay on the ground and shook his head again. “I already regret this,” he muttered and, turning, he walked away.

  Nicolas watched him go with open-mouthed shock for several moments before he seemed to realise that he was alone in the night, outnumbered by a group of people whose anger was palpable.