A Burden Given

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A Burden Given Page 1

by James Bee




  James Bee

  A Burden Given

  First published by James Bee in 2017

  Copyright © James Bee, 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  About The Author

  1

  Chapter 1

  The sound of fists hitting flesh drew Gerald down to the docks. He was not the only one; a crowd had formed around the drunken combatants. Rushing forward, he pushed his way through the spectators. His uniform and the sword swinging off his hip clove him a path through the jeering townspeople. At the centre, two groups of men were swinging at each other and rolling around on the ground. A glance was enough to spot the difference between them. Off-duty soldiers in drab and patchy uniforms were struggling with a group of well-dressed noblemen. The soldiers were getting the worst of it, their blood staining the expensive jackets of their foes. The noblemen had them outnumbered, nearly two to one. As he pushed his way into the circle, Gerald recognized a few of the wellborn pomps. He’d seen them at it before. Start a fight with a few drunks and then bring their mates in to finish the job. Bastards. Soon they’d leave, go home to expensive wines and even more expensive bedwarmers. Tomorrow they’d parade their bloody knuckles around the palace like war wounds, telling exaggerated stories to anyone who could suffer to listen to them.

  Only this time they weren’t stopping. The fight was over and the four soldiers had collapsed to the ground, desperately covering their heads with hands and elbows. Unfortunately, this was a poor defence against the vicious punches and kicks. Gerald looked around at the crowd; the initial excitement of watching the fight had gone. A sick silence had taken its place. All were quiet, watching the beating with a morbid curiosity mixed with horror. The only sounds were the cries of the men being pummelled. No one is going to stop them, Gerald realized. No one except him. Maybe. Fear and uncertainty held him back. These were not men to cross easily. That and the very real chance that they might simply include him in their assault gave him pause. Yet he couldn’t stand around and do nothing. The noblemen were showing no signs of letting up. The soldiers’ faces were masked with blood, their attempts at defending themselves becoming increasingly feeble. Gerald knew he had to act now or not at all.

  “ENOUGH!”he yelled. Stepping forward, Gerald grasped the shoulder of one of the noblemen, pulling him backward. The man stumbled into him, the stench of wine heavy on his breath. Unfocused eyes squinted at Gerald’s face, struggling to identify him. Gerald’s uniform and his sword made the nobleman wary, and he stepped back. His friends however, ignored the order and continued attacking the unmoving soldiers.

  “I said STOP!”Gerald yelled, pushing another man away from the fallen men. The drunken nobleman stumbled and turned toward Gerald. Slowly, a look of disdain spread across his all too familiar face.

  “Fuck off, bastard.”He lurched at Gerald, swinging his fist. The blow was slow and sloppy, and Gerald stepped away from it. Unfortunately, he was no longer watching the first man, and he stumbled away, head ringing. Bloody hands shoved him back into the crowd, where he tripped over a foot and stumbled to the ground.

  Gerald’s head swam as he struggled back to his feet. The men had redoubled their assault, mouths pulled back into snarls as they struck at the helpless men. They’re going to beat them to death!

  Gerald hesitated. He knew that he could just walk away or stand by and do nothing. Every one else in the crowd was. Why should he have to risk his life? What did he owe these men? Yet he knew that his decision was already made. He could not stand by and watch cold-blooded murder.

  Almost before he knew it, his sword was in his hand. The unmistakable sound of steel on steel cut through the drunken haze of the noblemen. The six of them turned in unison toward him, momentarily forgetting the battered men at their feet. Three feet of gleaming steel tended to have that effect on anyone, no matter how much wine they’d put in their belly. Gerald couldn’t see any visible weapons, but that didn’t mean that they were unarmed. Any one of them could have a knife hidden up a boot or behind their back. He knew that he was taking one hell of a risk. If they swarmed him at once, it wasn’t likely he would be able to fend them off. He’d wash up in a ditch somewhere with his throat slit, no matter who his parents were.

  Luckily, these men were not the kind that had the stones to fight an armed man, and they began to back away.

  “GO!”Gerald yelled as they scattered, pushing through the crowd. One turned back and pointed a bloody finger at him.

  “You’ll regret pulling a blade on us! I’ll see you in the square, bastard!”They crowd closed behind them, and they disappeared from sight. Relief flooded through Gerald as he sheathed his sword. He knew he would have to pay later, but for the moment he was safe. One of the soldiers at his feet coughed, a wheezing, bubbly sound. Gerald knelt down to check on the brutalized men.

  “You, go and fetch a surgeon,”Gerald said, pointing at a nearby boy. “Someone else go and rouse the garrison. They’ll need to come and carry these men away.”As his makeshift messengers scurried away, Gerald further inspected the moaning men. They weren’t any that he recognized, which was good. If they were from his regiment, things would only get worse. It would be bad enough as it was. Suddenly angry, he looked up at the crowd still formed around him.

  “Go! Haven't you watched enough?”Gerald yelled. They quickly dispersed, heads down, unwilling to meet his eyes. In a few moments he was alone with the soldiers. One tried to stand up, blood pouring from a gash on his head. Gerald firmly but gently pushed him back down onto the packed dirt.

  “Lie still. You’re safe,”Gerald said. The man weakly wiped blood out of this eyes and looked up at him, uncomprehending. Two others were also shifting, consciousness slowly returning. The fourth, however, lay unmoving. Gerald crawled over to him and gently shook his shoulder. The man didn’t respond.

  Gerald looked up at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. A man was running toward them, night robe flapping behind him. The surgeon dropped down beside Gerald. The older man’s kindly face was creased with worry as he inspected the fallen soldier. Reaching down, the surgeon grasped the man’s wrist and held a finger to it. After a few moments he shook his head.

  “He’s gone,”the white-haired surgeon said softly, patting Gerald on the shoulder. Staring at the dead man’s ruined face, guilt washed over him. I could
have stepped in sooner, could have saved him. A soldier crawled toward them, struggling to his knees to look down at his dead comrade.

  “Who is your commander, soldier?”Gerald asked him as gently as he could.

  “I am,”a voice boomed from behind. Gerald turned to see a large man looming over them. He was heavily muscled, with a broad, honest face half covered by a great bushy beard. Behind him, a half dozen soldiers looked on anxiously.

  “Kayl! Thank the gods,”Gerald said, looking up at his friend. Kayl settled his considerable bulk beside him and looked around at his bloodied men. With a curt command, he gestured his men into action. Rushing forward, they helped the three surviving soldiers to their feet, half carrying them. The fourth man they gently picked up and carried off. Kayl made no move to follow his men down the street. Instead he grasped Gerald’s arm and pulled him to his feet.

  “Bar fight?”he asked, a frown darkening his normally genial face.

  “Yeah. Your men got into a scrap with Arth and some of his trouser chasers. Were getting beat to death when I showed up,”Gerald answered. Kayl looked sharply at him.

  “And you stopped them? All by yourself? How’d you manage that? I doubt it was their overwhelming respect for you that stayed their hands,”Kayl said, pursing his lips. Gerald chuckled mirthlessly and patted his sword. Kayl swore loudly. “You drew on Arth? He’ll be after your blood, mark my words.”

  “They beat a man to death! One of the king’s soldiers! They’ll have to account for it! They can’t just get away from this!”Gerald protested hotly.

  The big man shook his head.“They can and will. You know who his family is. The king won’t risk losing their support over one common-born soldier. They’ll say that my men started it and they were just defending themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if those other three don’t end up swinging just for having the indecency to survive,”Kayl said, grinding his teeth. “You’ll be deep in the shit too. They’ll say you attacked them, drew your sword. Who’ll vouch for you? You’ll have to pay in the square, against Arth no less! You’re fine with a blade, but you can’t best him. Shit!”Kayl stamped his foot. “Fucking bunch of highborn pricks!”

  Gerald yawned; the time of night was catching up to him. “Nothing can be done about it now. You should get back and check on your men. We’ll have to just wait and see what the morning brings,”he said.

  Kayl nodded distractedly.“I’ll come and see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”The big man patted Gerald on the shoulder again before walking out into the blackness of the night sky. Gerald watched him go before heading off in the direction of the palace. His mind was racing, guessing at the possible dangers the morning would bring.

  2

  Chapter 2

  Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sounds of Gerald’s boots on the polished marble rang down the hallway. He was hurrying, but not too much. Conscious of the glances he was attracting, he strode calmly toward the throne room. News had travelled fast, as it always did in the capital. The events of last night had spread through the court like wildfire. Whispers followed him through the passageways of the palace. This had not eluded Kayl.

  “Everyone is looking at us,”he said, glancing nervously behind them. Despite the situation, Gerald smiled.

  “Welcome to my life, mate. This is the court of many glances and whispers. Try not to let it bother you. Besides, they’re looking at me, not at you,”Gerald said as they walked past a pair of guards and into the antechamber of the throne room. There, half a dozen more guards watched them approach.

  “The king and queen are expecting you. Hand over your weapon, please,” a guardsman said, holding out his hand for Gerald’s sword. Unbuckling the clasp, Gerald placed it in the man’s hand. The bloody sword that got me into this mess. “You will wait here until they are ready to see you.”Nodding, Gerald stepped away, hands behind his back. Beside him, Kayl was fidgeting nervously, tugging at his uniform and shuffling his feet.

  “Calm down, man, you’re not even the one going in,”a voice said. The two of them turned toward the speaker.

  “My prince.”Kayl bowed his head. “I can’t help it. This whole thing has got me on edge. I’ve got one man dead and three more beaten to its doorstep. They’d be buried today as well if it hadn’t been for Gerald. Now he’s going to be punished for it, more likely than not.”The prince walked over and punched Gerald on the arm.

  “You could have at least cut Arth a little, made it worthwhile,”he said, grinning. “Anyways, don’t be all gloomy about it. Mother and Father are on your side for once. You know how much they hate Arth and his family. They might have to rough you up a bit, of course, to keep up appearances, but you’ll be alright.”Despite his words, Gerald could tell that Prince Rauf was as worried as Kayl. That made him worried. “Just keep your head down in there, and you’ll be fine. I’ll see you after.”The prince gave him a reassuring smile before walking out into the courtyard.

  As they fell into silence, Gerald could hear voices from inside the room. The words were muffled but the speakers were unmistakable: the deep booming of the king, interspersed with the softer tones of the queen. It sounded as though they were alone, debating something. Probably his fate. What to do with the troublesome problem of Gerald the bastard? The awkward ghost haunting the palace. Drawing his sword on the son of the second most powerful family in the land. How to punish him? Strip him of his command? Have him beaten in the courtyard? Lock him away in the dungeons? There were many dark possibilities, and Gerald’s mind was conjuring them all.

  They seemed to wait for hours. Sweat stained his tunic and made him itch. With each passing moment his anxiety grew, and he longed to be called in. Just to have it over with. When the command to enter was finally given, it was a relief.

  “Good luck, mate,”Kayl said, patting him on the back as he was ushered into the throne room. Gerald had been inside it many times, but not like this. Where crowds of people usually stood there was only empty space. Empty save for the twin thrones, raised high above him. On instinct more than anything else, he hurried forward and kneeled before them. Head bowed, he didn’t dare to look up lest he betray himself with the guilty look on his face.

  “Rise, Sir Gerald.”The cold formality of the queen crashed over him like a bucket of icy water. There was no anger in her voice, no emotion at all. Gerald slowly got to his feet, the vast walls of the room stretching away from him and leaving him exposed in front of their eyes. Reluctantly, he raised his head to gaze upon the two most powerful people for a hundred leagues.

  The queen was not looking at him; instead she was frowning down at a parchment in her hands. Her already pinched face was even more puckered as she read. The king, however, was gazing down at him, a small smile set upon his broad and honest face. It was a forced smile, but the effort cheered Gerald.

  “I hope you don’t mind that we kept you waiting. We have an issue that has required much deliberation. Truly a most vexing problem. Indeed, it was a most difficult decision to make. I do hope that you will feel as though you are not too hard done by,”the king said, his kindly tones doing little to calm Gerald's nerves. There was to be a punishment after all then. “You’ve acquitted yourself well over these past few years, with only a few small mishaps. You have served the realm and us faithfully. Whether it be on military campaigns or keeping the peace at home.”The king’s smile slipped a bit at that comment. No doubt he had the pleasure of an early meeting with Arth. He was clearly building up to something, as was his habit. The man liked to hear himself speak, and he did so often. Gerald had little doubt the queen would have already laid down the sentence and had him bundled out of the room by now. Instead she seemed to be barely listening, so intent was she on the scroll in her hand.

  “It is for these skills that you have been summoned here,”the king continued. Gerald struggled to not let his confusion show on his face. He must have missed something — some words slipped past him. “You are being called upon
to serve the realm again, although perhaps less gallantly this time. There is a problem that we believe you can solve. Though I get ahead of myself. Have you ever heard of a town called Redstone?”Incomprehension was washing over him, battling with a small amount of hope. It was all he could do to shake his head. “No, I can’t imagine why you would know much of it. It’s a small mining town in the north. ’Bout two week’s ride away from here, I’m told. Lovely place by all accounts, very picturesque—”

  “Get on with it, Garland. We haven’t all day,”the queen broke in brusquely.

  “Yes, yes, of course. Well, lad, the town of Redstone is in a bit of turmoil right now. Its mayor is dead, and at quite an inconvenient time, I must say. His son is neither ready nor capable of taking over his father’s responsibilities. Normally someone from within the town would assume control, but we cannot allow that, I’m afraid. I won’t burden you with the details now, you’ll learn it all when you get there.”Get there?! The tiny ball of hope that had been growing inside him was crushed. Sent to a shit hole in the middle of the mountains to babysit some miners! “All you need to know now is that the Crown makes quite a lot of money off the mine, as well as getting most of the steel we need to arm our soldiers,”the king continued. “As you might imagine, we need someone dependable and capable to ensure that the production of the mine continues smoothly. You’ll be sent with a full company, though not your own, I’m afraid. Sir Kayl and his men will accompany you there as a show of the Crown’s force. Sometimes you have to remind people that we exist.”He winked at Gerald, who managed a sickly smile back at him. Not only was he to be sent away, but he would be losing his company too. Men he had commanded for two years, fought and bled with. Gone due to one drunken bar fight.

 

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