Ascent of the Unwanted (The Chronicle of Unfortunate Heroes Book 1)

by Nathan T. Boyce

  “I tried to tell her it wasn’t worth much. She insisted on keeping it anyway. I only had to wonder why for a few weeks until her tummy started show your impending arrival.” Malgar said looking off into the distance.

  Erik stared amazed at his sudden wealth. It had come at too high a cost and the look of it all sickened him.

  “I know what you are thinking but this is good money. That is enough to start a life worth living, if used wisely. Your mother would have wanted it this way. It is what her whole life was about. Use it.”

  Erik thought about it. He had always imagined a simple life for himself. A place where he could build a future and get his mother away from the life she had. Now he could only think of one thing he wanted and this money would go a long way to achieve his goals. Malgar and his mother had yearned for a quiet life for Erik, away from this miserable place.

  Erik, however, wanted revenge.

  Chapter 4

  The Man and the Dog He Rode in on

  “It’s just like I told the guy. You want me to show you how to put a smile on a woman’s face, just need to listen to me.”

  The whore just wouldn’t shut up. Uriss already got what he wanted from her, but still she screeched out worthless spill like a cat in heat. The creep on the horse paid him too much for him to put up with this. Who would have thought traveling through a small town like Olumar would drop a deal like this? What was it the guy said? Head up the road, and make a right at the fork. The path lead to the house of the local blacksmith. Anything there was his along with the handsome amount of gold he was already given. All he had to do was take care of any complications, and clean the site up if anything looked askew. Uris didn’t care for the man, but it’s not like he would pass up any opportunity for getting ahead.

  “So anyway, I told the man. Do you know what I told him? I told him he needed to-.” Uriss’s hand smashed into the woman’s throat. He squeezed, feeling her flesh crunch beneath his grip. She squirmed. They all squirmed. Even if he let go now, her windpipe was crushed to the point where she would not survive. He forced his hand to squeeze harder just to make sure. It was a merciful death now.

  He pulled his trousers up and headed out the door of the work shed. Copper whores weren’t much to look at, but they did not care where they got the job done. He wasn’t much to look at either, so it’s not like he was slumming.

  Where was he? In the alley behind some two bit inn, he supposed. It’s not like the local authorities would care about the strumpet, but getting out of town would be best all things considered.

  He walked out into the main street and stopped, the smile couldn’t be contained. “What are you supposed to be?”

  The old midget rode the brute of a dog like a horse. The little clown’s legs dangled down the pooch’s side like sausages in a butcher’s windows.

  “I am simply trying to get to a room to get some sleep, you buffoon.” The dwarf snapped.

  “Who you calling a buffoon?” Uriss cocked his hand back getting ready to put the little fella down for the night. A courtesy if you will.

  The little man’s hands waved in the air. “Why are you coming out of that alley?”

  “I just killed a wench, and need to get out of town without being seen. Good thing I got another job.” Why had he said that? Now the dwarf needed to die as well. A killing spree would get the law on him fast as crisp bacon into a fat boy’s tummy. Odd, Uriss wanted to move, but he stood pat.

  “Well, I guess we can’t help the wench, and I don’t need to perk the ears of any authorities on me. Is there going to be any more killing at the job you’re going to?” The little man said, his dog panting a noxious cloud of breath around him.

  “I dunno. There could be. I am supposed to clean an area of anything that could lead curious minds to ask questions.” Again, why is he answering this little munchkin of a creep?

  The midget’s hands waved again, this time more intricately. “You don’t want to kill anyone at that site. If anyone there is alive, you will figure out a way to take of the problem without any one dying. Is that clear?”

  “Uh….sure.” He didn’t really feel like killing anymore tonight anyways.

  Uriss turned and left the curious little man on the big dog. What a strange conversation. He got to his wagon and headed down to the fork in the road, and took it up to the local smithy’s residence. Pulling to the side, he fell asleep. No use getting there in the middle of the night. He needed to be able to see whatever he needed to clean up.

  He pulled into the clearing when the sun broke through the trees. Whoever did this mess was thorough. The embers still burned on the frames of the residence and the smithy. What had that bastard meant by anything here would be his? There was nothing left but ash and ruin. He prodded his horse to make a round of the clearing just in case, his wagon creaking behind.

  What was this? A bonnie little lass, dead on the ground with a paper clutched in her hand. Uriss presumed her father and brother were the two swinging from the tree. He pulled the paper from the girls hand and read the decree. Well, that pretty much took care of everything didn’t it.

  Uriss spiked the parchment onto the trunk of the tree where the poor fools hung, and inspected the little waif. Not dead after all, but whoever did this damn near killed her.

  No killing for him today either, besides now he could make even more of a profit with this little poppet. Uriss slung her into the back of his wagon and rode back out to the road.

  Chapter 5

  Friends

  Erik spent a great deal of time in the market district during the morning, expecting this would be his last day in Armeston. The path he followed may return him here, but he suspected only for temporary stops. He thought he outfitted himself well. He even splurged and got himself a pretty, double-edged knife in a dark leather sheath which strapped onto his belt. He felt satisfied considering he spent a few silver for the lot.

  He headed out of the market and to The Brimming Mug when something caught his eye. On a table stand outside a merchant shop sat two small hair combs carved out of a rich dark wood. Carved flowers decorated the edge with a crafters art and the center held a small dove, its head bent around and tucked underneath one upturned wing. Today was his mother’s birthday. On a whim he went ahead and paid the merchant the three pieces of silver asked for the set. He bundled his precious treasure and cradled it into his backpack. It somehow made the hole he felt in his heart not as deep. He thought it odd considering his statement to Malgar concerning his mother’s ashes. Why would a memento reminding him of his mother make him feel better when her physical remains would not?

  He was wandering through town pondering his philosophical problem when he heard a scuffle taking place in a back alley. Four teenaged youths about his age were laughing and kicking a large man who was trying to crawl away on all fours. This was not an unusual sight around here but the size of the man was surprising. The gangs usually picked on smaller, more defenseless targets.

  The unfairness of the world and his hatred for it swelled inside him. He did not know these boys but he knew their type. It was easy for them to pick on a man who either would not or could not fight back. A little threat of bodily harm would stop them.

  Erik looked at the small knife he had purchased, hanging from his belt. It would give him a little advantage but since he did not know how to use it in a fight it would not be much of one. He looked around the opening of the alley. Against one wall was a pile of debris. Digging through the pile he found a large wooden crate opened at one end. He grabbed a plank on the wooden box and ripped it loose. He looked at his crude weapon to bolster his confidence. The board was three feet long with four rusty twisted nails protruding out of one end. The other end was in splinters where Erik had snapped the board away from its fasteners on the crate. This would do fine.

  Erik stepped into the alley. The boys were still kicking the man with abandon, ignoring his pleas. Erik cleared his throat in preparation.

  “I would s
uggest you guys stop,” Erik said, but as he spoke his words lost confidence and the ending of his threat trailed into the air.

  “Hey, look here, guys. A hero sent to rescue us this morning from our boredom.” the largest of the four said looking Erik up and down. Erik felt his confidence slip as he became the center of attention.

  “You think he has any money for us?” one of the others said.

  “Only one way to find out for sure.” replied the leader.

  They all stopped kicking the defenseless man and advanced on Erik like wolves. Erik straightened and grabbed the board with more confidence. “You may outnumber me but with this,” Erik said, nodding to his board, “at least one of you will go down with me. These nails look painful. Have you ever had three inches of rusted metal punched into your side or, even better, your head? You may not survive that.”

  The four ruffians stopped. Looking much less confident. The three smaller young men looked at the large one for reassurance. Those questioning glances spoke volumes for Erik. He knew they were wondering which one of them would take the hit from his wicked looking club. The first one into range would take those spikes into whatever part of the body presented itself and it did not look like it would end there. Erik may not be muscular but he was still tall and his lanky frame held the club with a purpose.

  “Aw, you’re not worth it anyways. From the looks of you you probably don’t even have half a copper on you! Come on let’s get out of here, but I wouldn’t walk into any more alleys `round here if I was you!” They turned and ran off whooping and laughing as if nothing at all had happened.

  Erik bent to help the beaten man to his feet. He was large, not as tall as Erik, but twice his width and dressed in rags and furs. Erik wondered again how such a craven group could pick on someone like this. His coarse dark hair was wild on one side and matted with blood on the other. One of the man’s eyes swelled shut and his stunted bloody nose were obvious signs of the recent beating. A large protruding brow was covering his dark eyes in a perpetual shadow and a large under bite with a snaggletooth combined to give him a primitive appearance. A scar ran down his high, chipped and uneven cheekbones, splitting the hair on his left brow,but it left his eye unmarked. Old scars giving proof of the beatings this man had taken in his life.

  “Thank you, sir. Lawt is grateful,” he said in a slow deliberate slur, not one hindered by drunkenness but by difficulty in forming words with his pronounced mandible.

  “Not a problem. It looked like you could have used a hand.”

  The man stood there looking at Erik with a dumb look on his face, apparently not knowing what to say next.

  “So, Lawt, that’s your name, right? Why would you allow these guys to do that to you? You seem to be a large man. A few swings with those paws of yours would have taken the fight right out of them.”

  “Lawt could not do that, sir. Lawt might have hurt them. Lawt cannot hurt anyone.” he said with a restrained look of resentment on his face.

  Erik did not know what to think about this man. He obviously did not have the slightest bit of survival instinct and was not too bright, but his demeanor was too much like a lost puppy to keep Erik from not liking him. At an impasse Erik blurted out, “You want some hot food? I can take you to a place that has food where we can sit and talk a bit.”

  “Yes, please, sir. That would be nice,” Lawt said walking next to Erik out of the alley with a pronounced limp.

  “So, what brings you to the fair city of Armeston. I take it you are not from around here.”

  “Lawt got here three days ago, sir. The city is not a nice place to Lawt. No one talks to Lawt but Lawt found a pretty thing and Lawt hoped someone would pay money for it. Will you buy my pretty thing?” Lawt said holding a white crystal. Two pyramids fused together at their bases about the size of the last digit of Erik’s thumb sparkled in the man’s hand.

  “Sorry, I don’t know anything about crystals or jewels and don’t really need one anyways. Besides I would not know what would be fair to offer you but I know where a few merchants are who may be interested.”

  “Oh no, sir. Lawt has already asked many merchants. They yell and throw things at Lawt. Sometimes they say Lawt steals things and try to take my pretty thing away.” Lawt said.

  “Well it can’t hurt to try again. If I go with you they may not try that again,” Erik offered.

  “Okay. If you are with Lawt, sir, Lawt will try.”

  “Well let’s get out of here then.”

  Erik knew of two jewelers in Armeston and he headed for the one farthest away from them first. Whatever the first one said Erik would want corroborated by the other, and by putting the second one into the return trip back to the tavern made it easier to do.

  When they arrived it was not the welcome Erik expected. The jeweler’s face turned purple red. “What are you doing here, boy? And you!” He said pointing at Lawt. “I have already thrown this despicable creature out of my establishment once this morning.”

  “We just came to get an appraisal is all, good sir. Would you be so kinds as to—” but Erik could not finish what he was saying before he was interrupted.

  “I am too busy a man to have my time wasted by you two. I don’t want you in here pawing my wares and stealing my merchandise. Out the both of you.” the merchant’s yell reached a shriek. He went far enough to grab a small hammer and hurled it at Lawt.

  They retreated to the safety of the open street. “Well, that was very rude,” Erik grumbled.

  “Lawt expects such treatment.”

  The next jeweler was worse than the first. When Erik set foot in the door with Lawt in tow the owner charged at them. “Out! Out! You miserable gorak! I will call for the constables! Help I am being robbed!” the merchant yelled into the street.

  Erik panicked. He and Lawt ran a good ways down the street before stopping and looking to make sure they were not being followed. “Well, that didn’t go at all like I had planned. Where did you get that thing at, anyway?” Erik did not want to come right out and ask if his newfound friend had indeed stolen it.

  “Lawt found it next to his cave in the wood. Its sparkles caught Lawt’s eyes.” Lawt said.

  “Well, I promised you some food. Let’s see about that shall we.”

  Erik was now hungry himself. The trek through the city to meet both jewelers had eaten up a good hour in the day and it was way past his usual time for an afternoon lunch. Pushing and shoving one’s way through a crowded street always worked up an appetite for him and a nice bit of soup and warm bread awaited him.

  He turned toward the street, which would lead him to The Brimming Mug, when his arm was grabbed from behind and he was spun into an unobtrusive alley. Farther down the alley Erik saw the four ruffians he had encountered earlier in the day. Closing behind him and Lawt were four other young men about the same age and apparent character. Erik’s mind raced, contemplating anyway to get out of the situation while the youths forced them further from view off the main street. The situation did not look good.

  “Didn’t I warn you about coming into any of my alleys just this morning?” the large one asked.

  “Yes. Yes, you did, but my friend and I were having an argument on what smelled worse, you or a threeweek dead fish and we had to have a refresher to confirm what we decided. Congratulations, you won!” Erik said with a small trace of a smile. This was definitely not the way to avoid getting a broken nose.

  Erik did not have a chance to prepare himself for the hit that sent him to the pavement because it came from behind him. He tried to tense himself for the fury of blows and kicks which followed. After the first few dozen hits he realized it hurt as bad with his muscles tensed as relaxed. He tensed to protect himself just in case.

  “No! Not Lawt’s friend!” Lawt screamed. Erik could not see where Lawt was.

  Bodies rolled everywhere through Erik’s peripheral vision and screams of pain and outrage rang through the air. The abuse stopped and Erik rolled over onto his side feeling wa
ves of pain shoot though him. He saw four of the ruffians sprawled on the ground through the alley. Lawt smashed another one’s face into the ground with anger flashing through his eyes. Two men had engaged the other three punks. Erik recognized them. The Cavaliers from the tavern had put themselves into the melee. The large brute of a man had two on either side and the smaller one stalked the last ruffian, a cat playing with a mouse.

  The two hoodlums rushed the big one hoping one of them would land a good blow. With a quickness belying his size he spun on one foot his other kicking backward, heel into the air. His boot caught the one on the left under the chin, while a fist crashed down into the other punk’s nose. While both men fell his spin carried him through, his leg careening over his head. The other fist came around catching the one he kicked in the gut. His downward swing with his leg caught the groin of the other.

  The smaller Cavalier was less showy but just as quick. He circled his prey with grace and his hands wove an intricate pattern in the air. His left hand feinted causing the ruffian to dodge to his right. The Cavalier’s right hand shot out to intercept. The impact of the ruffian’s own momentum into the oncoming fist reverberated off the alley walls. His head hit the pavement with a hard thud.

  Lawt was still screaming and slamming his opponent’s head into the pavement. A pool of blood was beginning to form underneath them. A large gentle hand laid itself on Lawt’s shoulder. “It’s tall right, the fight is over. You can rest now, good sir.”

  Lawt looked up, tears running down his face. “Lawt’s sorry. Lawt just didn’t want… He was the first one to treat Lawt like…like a friend. Lawt didn’t want him to be hurt.”