Alaric Swifthand

by Steve Lazarowitz

  She looked uncomfortable. “What did you expect? You were off working all day and I was bored.”

  “Bored? So you decided to become the scum of the earth?”

  “Oh thank you. You didn’t seem to mind a few minutes ago when I opened that box for you.”

  “But that was different.”

  “You mean, I suppose, that it’s morally okay to take the possessions of a man you just killed for no reason.”

  Now it was my turn to look sheepish. “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “I see.”

  And suddenly I was on the defensive. I have often wondered how that happened each and every time we argued. “Listen. The sword killed him by itself.”

  “Oh, by itself.” She was laughing at me. “You are a terrible liar.”

  “What! I happen to be a very good liar. If it weren’t for that ability, we would’ve been mauled to death by that monster.”

  “Well, good for you. Now, are we going to move, or will you continue to stand here and judge me for the rest of the night?”

  I sighed. Once again, I was enmeshed in an argument I wasn’t going to win. I swore then that one day, just once, I would get the last word. Not today, though. I turned and reentered the street. It was very late. I was tired and more than a bit bemused. I turned toward home, making certain Theona was by my side.

  I watched her as we walked. Was it just boredom that had driven her to the far side of the law, or something much deeper? Had past events left her so out of control, she was willing to risk her freedom in the pursuit of a few cheap thrills? Was there another reason for it I could not fathom? What would happen to my job, if the captain of the guard found out?

  I pushed the thoughts from my mind as our building came into view. I had much to consider, but it would have to wait. My first priority was to get a look at the book I had taken from Dendrac’s room. Not taken. Stolen. Perhaps there was no difference between the two of us.

  I unlocked the door and stepped inside. After Theona entered, I shot the bolt. She didn’t say anything. Instead she disappeared immediately into the bedroom. I placed the book on the table and opened it. For about a minute I flipped through it, looking for a picture, but there was nothing but words. I spent a few minutes staring at the jumbled symbols. Finally, I closed the book.

  “Theona, honey.”

  She emerged from the bedroom.

  “Could you perhaps help me out with this?” I gestured to the book.

  “I’m not even talking to you.”

  ‘Theona!”

  “Well I’m not. And I won’t be, until you apologize.” With those words, she turned, stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  I dropped my head into my hands. There were times when my Theona could be most unreasonable. I sat for a very long time before standing and walking to the bedroom. I was about to enter, when there was a knock at the front door. I turned to stare. I didn’t get many visitors during daylight hours. At this time of night, it could only be bad news.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Alaric Mason? This is the town guard. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  The bedroom door opened and Theona poked her head out. She looked at me and I shrugged. She crossed the room and opened the door.

  “Yes?” she said.

  I recognized the guard immediately. They didn’t come much uglier, but he wasn’t a bad guy, even if we didn’t let him hang out with us.

  “What’s this about, Harlyn?”

  He looked at me apologetically. “I’m sorry, Alaric. I’m here to arrest you for the murder of Prince Dendrac. I would like you to come peacefully, but I’m prepared to use force if necessary.”

  I fought the panic that suddenly closed in on me. I had no way of knowing the man I’d killed had been royalty. I’d never heard of Prince Dendrac, but there were so many minor nobles roaming around, even the King couldn’t keep track of all of them. Still, if I allowed myself to be taken, I’d most certainly be executed.

  I glanced at Theona, then back at Harlyn. I took a step closer, as if I were going to accompany him. I was about to reach for my blade, when I noticed a second, somewhat larger guard, standing just outside the door. Suddenly, the odds had shifted. I dropped my hand and took a step forward. The guard outside nodded curtly. Then in one swift movement, I drew the Sword of Truth and attacked.

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  Chapter Ten

  I don’t know when it actually happened, but at some point in my rather interesting life, I had become something akin to a master swordsman. Perhaps it was the early years of having had too many altercations with men who were often much larger than me. Or it might have had something to do with my training as a palace guard. Nor can I discount my sudden rise to infamy, when an entire city was after me, as a possible cause.

  Or it might have just been the fact that I had a powerful magical sword at my disposal.

  Any or all of those things might have made me the weapon I was that day. I was a blur as I attacked my former comrade-at-arms. He tried to pull his blade, but that would have complicated matters. I kneed him in the stomach and brought the hilt of my sword down hard across the back of his neck. His head hit the floor with a sickening smack and I knew he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

  Though he was too late to help his friend, the other guard moved toward me. He was larger than Harlyn and somewhat better with his blade, for all the good it did him. After a few parries and swipes, I knew I could take him.

  I held myself back, just barely beating away his clumsy attacks. After a minute or so, he grew more confident. I waited until he tried a hard side-slash. I ducked under it easily.

  The larger man’s momentum brought him around. I struck him hard on the side of his head with the flat of my blade. He still managed to take a few more swings at me before he lost consciousness. I deflected them easily. Behind me, Theona stood and watched with expressionless eyes.

  It was over before it started. I studied the two as they lay in a heap at my feet, certain the next soldiers who came for me would be of a higher caliber.

  “What now?” asked Theona.

  “I know this sounds hypocritical, but … how hard would it be for you to appropriate a couple of horses?”

  She looked as if she were about to say something, then thought better of it. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Good. I’ll pack, then I’ll head over to the Warlock. Get there as soon as you can.”

  She looked at me strangely, but didn’t protest. Instead, she pulled a cloak over her shoulders, stepped gingerly over the unconscious guards and left without a word.

  As soon as she was gone, I secured the guards with their own manacles and stuffed a gag into each of their mouths. Then I found a couple of cloth sacks and tossed in what possessions I could fit. For once, not having accumulated much material wealth was a blessing. The only items of any value we possessed were my sword, which never left my side, and the key and book I’d taken … no, stolen from Prince Dendrac’s room. Naturally, I made certain both were well packed.

  I took both sacks, threw one over each shoulder and made my way onto the street. It was somewhat before dawn, but the Wicked Warlock would still be open. Indeed, in the year or so I’d patronized the establishment, I had never seen it closed.

  I walked briskly, barely noticing the cold. Nothing like a healthy dose of panic to put your other problems in perspective. As I walked those deserted streets, it seemed possible for a moment I was the only one alive—until I stepped inside the Warlock.

  The usual crew of malcontents sat about, most in various states of inebriation. Areet, as always, was behind the bar. I walked up and sat heavily on a stool.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Alaric Swifthand.”

  “That’s not my name.”

  He shrugged. “It might as well be. Half the place now calls you that.” He poured my usual. “On the house. You know, that was a pretty impressive display of swordsmanship ear
lier.”

  “I suppose it was.”

  “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

  Where indeed? “Here and there.”

  “I see.” I could tell Areet was expecting more from me, but I had other problems on my mind. Not to be deterred, Areet continued.

  “Seriously, you’re wasting your time as a guard. You could be a mercenary with that kind of skill.”

  “A mercenary?”

  He nodded and poured a drink for himself. “Absolutely.”

  “Prince Dendrac could be part of my resume, is that it? Hire me, I killed a noble. I don’t think it’s wise to continually bring that up.”

  “So you move on. Change your name. Grow a mustache. Shave your beard. Let your hair grow longer or cut it all off. No one would ever know.”

  I thought about it. “You make sense. Listen, I’m on my way out of town. If anyone wants to know, I went north to Modron, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  At that moment, several other men approached the bar.

  “Hey, Alaric, that was somethin’ earlier. You musta been born holdin’ that sword.”

  “Hey Swifthand, let me buy you one.”

  “You shoulda seen the look on his face, that conceited son of a….”

  And so on. Instant minor celebrity. I wondered how many of them would even remember the incident by tomorrow. Still, it couldn’t hurt to have a drink or two, at least until Theona arrived.

  By the time she showed, I was feeling better. She entered, looked at me and shook her head.

  “I’m out saving your ass and you’re sitting here, getting drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk. I was saying good-bye.”

  She took the drink from in front of me and downed it. “And you’ve said it. Now let’s get moving. It’s just about dawn.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. And if we’re not out of here in the next hour or so, you’re as good as dead.”

  “Right.” I stood up. “Good-bye, Areet. Thanks for everything.”

  “Farewell, my friend. And you, Theona. Be safe.”

  She hitched her thumb at me. “With him? Try to be serious.” But she was smiling when she said it.

  As we made our way through the crowd, many of them wished us well. We were halfway to the door, when the giant we’d met at the White Boar Inn entered and looked around.

  “Which one of you is Alaric Swifthand?” he boomed.

  The crowd stopped to stare for a moment and then all of them, including my dear Theona, backed away until I stood alone in the center of the room. I smiled weakly. “Uh, that would be me.”

  “You!”

  I swallowed. The giant took a step toward me. “I think you and I need to talk.”

  “Talking is good.”

  He walked right up to me and placed a massive hand around my left shoulder. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that none of my ‘friends’ came to my aid. I’m not certain I would have in their place.

  He guided me to the bar and threw his leg over a stool. He was so tall he could barely sit on the thing. I felt his hand close around the back of my neck. It was a good thing. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I’d probably have fainted.

  “Now,” he said, leaning forward so he was talking directly into my ear, “It’s time for us to have a little chat.”

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  Chapter Eleven

  The Wicked Warlock was usually a noisy place. There was always some argument going on, or a game of cards or even a brawl. There was a fair chance that even if only two people were present, they would be involved in some sort of altercation.

  That morning, however, the Warlock was silent. Every eye was on me and the man who was about to take my life, unless I could think of something devastatingly effective in short order. In other words, I was about to be mauled.

  The giant sat next to me. He had ordered an ale and was waiting for Areet to bring it. During that time, he sat quietly. At least he’d released the death hold he’d had on the back of my neck. I winced as I massaged it. I was not looking forward to the actual fight.

  Many thoughts went through my mind as I sat there waiting to die. The first was that it didn’t seem fair. I didn’t kill Prince Dendrac, my sword did. I had no control over the thing and didn’t feel I should be held responsible. The only problem was, I was the only one aware of the fact.

  I looked around at my so-called friends, hoping at least one of them would have the nerve to come to my aid, but as I considered each of them in turn, I realized, even if one had wanted to, there was little to be done. Even I, Alaric Swifthand, would have been unable to take the giant. I smiled as I realized I had used their name for me. There is little that is more dangerous than beginning to believe your own press.

  Areet was approaching with the giant’s drink. He said nothing as he placed a large brass tankard on the counter. I couldn’t help noticing when the giant raised it that the mug was somewhat smaller than his hand. I looked again at the way he sat, held my breath for just a moment, and went for him.

  It wasn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but it was close. The concept was simple. If I didn’t try something, I was dead anyway, so I might as well die by my own actions. I threw my shoulder hard as I could into his chest. It was not unlike ramming into a stone wall.

  Then, a miracle occurred. Perhaps because he was so off balance, the entire thing toppled over backwards; the stool, the giant and the tankard of ale. As I watched, it seemed as if time had slowed to present the calamity in some way that made sense. I prayed then there was some truth behind the old “the bigger they are” adage.

  I ran for the door. Theona, carrying one of the sacks, was a step ahead of me. Outside, our two horses were waiting. She leapt upon the white one, leaving the darker steed to me. Both were large, noble beasts, far better-looking than any horse I’d have gone after, though I was too rushed to wonder to whom they had once belonged. I was in the saddle only a moment after her. I pulled on the reins and headed east.

  Behind us, the giant emerged from the Wicked Warlock. I was happy it was still too dark to see the expression on his face. Even without that detail, I was going to have some impressive nightmares.

  I guided my steed to the south gate. Theona was right behind me. We reached the area just as the gates were being opened for the day. We rode through without pausing. If any of the guards planned on stopping us, they didn’t get the chance. Theona and I rode south into an uncertain future.

  I suppose I should have been sad about leaving Athour. The city had been my home for a year, during which time I had made many friends. Perhaps that was an overstatement. I had made many drinking buddies. Well, most of them weren’t buddies come to think of it.

  And suddenly it occurred to me. I was leaving behind absolutely nothing. I glanced to my left. Theona, who had much more riding experience than me, seemed happy enough to be galloping down the road, blonde hair streaming in the breeze, face a mask of ecstasy. As long as she was with me, there was nothing in Athour I needed.

  We rode for what seemed like hours, but couldn’t have been that long, because when we stopped to rest, morning had barely begun. I had no idea how I was going to cope with being mounted for the long haul, but if how I felt then was any indication, I was going to sell the creatures to the first buyer. Except, of course, for the fact Theona seemed so happy. I sighed. It wasn’t the first time I had sacrificed for her, nor I was certain, would it be the last.

  I was surprised and more than grateful to learn Theona had managed to take some food as well as the horses, so at least we wouldn’t go hungry. Now, as we broke our fast on a small portion of bread and cheese, I wondered where we were heading. No potential destination called to me, which didn’t come as a surprise. You could take everything I knew of the world and put it in a thimble—and still have room left for everything else I knew.

  I looked at Theona. She sat with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them, head coc
ked to the side. She was looking at me with those too blue eyes.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “About you.”

  “About me?”

  She smiled. “I just wanted to let you know that in spite of the hardship, I’ve never regretted any of it.”

  I returned her smile. “Nor have I. I’m sorry about last night. The whole thieves guild thing just came as such a shock.”

  “I know. I should have told you sooner.”

  And there was silence. If there was time, we might have made love then, but pursuit couldn’t be too far behind and we had to start moving. If only I had some idea of where to go.

  That was one of the good things about our relationship. Theona’s education more than compensated for my own ignorance. “So, where do you think we should go?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “What do you mean you have no idea?”

  “Which of those words are you having trouble with?”

  “All of them.”

  “What about that book?” she said. “Maybe that will give us an idea.”

  I nodded. Not for the first time in my life, I regretted my illiteracy, but once again Theona more than made up for my deficit. I wondered what I would have done without her.

  She rose, removed the sack from her saddlebags and brought it back. She placed it on the ground and rummaged through it. After a few minutes, she removed the book. She flipped it open and paged through it. After a while, she closed it and looked at me.

  “I can’t read this.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t read it?”

  “It’s in another language.”

  “So?”

  “So, I can only read Talonite. I’ve never seen symbols like this before in my life.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “We find someone who can read it.”

  I looked at her. “And where might we find such a person?”

  “In Modron.”

  I thought back to my last days in Modron and knew this was not a place I wanted to be. “I’m an outlaw there. Everyone thinks you’re dead.”