The Brotherhood (The Eirensgarth Chronicles Book 1)

by Philip Smith

  “Can we leave now?” Paige felt her head ache from the strain of the stays. It wasn’t that she wasn’t motivated to get to Olivian, but she wouldn’t be able to play her role convincingly if she fainted from lack of oxygen or stumbled in shoes she should supposedly be accustomed to wearing.

  Robert leaned in towards her sun-kissed cheeks.

  “Not quite, my dear. One more vender,” he said.

  “Robert,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “I don’t know how much longer I can last in this thing. You said that six vendors ago.”

  Compassion flickered in his crystal blue eyes, but he shook his head.

  “I know. Let’s finish this and we’ll head back. One more for Olivian?” He kept his voice at a whisper.

  Paige took as deep a breath as she could as Robert led on. The booth where they stopped was an open-air farriers forge, with a gigantic beast of a man working to beat life into a glowing piece of black iron. The metal cried out in pain as the hammer struck it over and over, the sharp ping sound reverberating through the mucky streets. The man’s skin was as black as polished ebony, like Papa’s old friend Xandla. Two other men sharpened blades of short swords on round grinding wheels; one man spun the wheel with a crank, while the other carefully worked the blade against against the stone, sparks shooting out and dancing upon the ground. None of the men looked up when Robert stopped at the edge of the short brick wall surrounding the lot.

  “Evening,” Robert said. The two apprentices grunted, but the big man with the hammer looked up. He scowled, but didn’t stop his work as he addressed them.

  “What do you want?” he barked gruffly. Robert was taken aback by the man’s direct nature, but he kept his smile plastered to his face as he continued his query.

  “I uh-,” Robert stumbled, trying to come up with a different approach. “Beg pardon, sir? Are you the proprietor?”

  “Come again?” the smithy barked.

  “The owner, I mean. Do you own this shop?”

  “What kind of stupid question is that?” the man spat, beating the hammer to the pulse of his words. “Of course I own this shop. Or at least I’m supposed to.”

  He threw the hammer onto the dusty earth that looked blue in the lasting twilight. He plunged the glowing iron into the bucket of oil at the foot of his anvil with enough force to skewer a wild boar. It spewed and sizzled as he swished it around to chase the sparks till they were all out. He quickly returned it to the small forge made of stone in the back of the shop and glared at the couple.

  “That bottom-dwelling, inbred Prince Feridar has every free smith working like a slave. As if he didn’t have enough swords, now he wants new ones. Rather than pay us a fair wage, he threatens us with prison if we do not deliver. And all this after being made to make new chains for the dungeons.”

  “Must have been quite a number of chains for all those prisoners the army just brought in. Must be a full jail.”

  “The dungeon was already full. Those slaves went straight to Franghal, say for one. The prince’s personal pet. Some woman.”

  “Was she blond?” Paige blurted out. Robert gave her a sharp glance. “I mean, the barbarian woman? I hear they have hair colored like flax?”

  “I don’t know, I was just forced to make the chains,” the smithy spat. “And if you don’t mind I’ve got more work yet to be finished today.”

  “Terribly sorry, you have my sympathy.”

  “I don’t need your Raven Head sympathy, your pity is as cheap as the dirt on my shoes. It’s the outcasts and immigrants like me that make up for your cursed king’s campaigns,” the man glared at the fire as he pulled out the hot iron. “I spit on the day he came here, may he rot in his stone palace.”

  “Words like that could get you killed, Idech,” a low voice slithered from around the corner of the back wall.

  Paige felt her skin crawl as she saw a soldier slip out of the building’s shadow. He was a well-built man, with a gleaming officer’s sword at his side, partially tucked into a crimson sash. His narrow eyes and high cheekbones granted him a sinister appearance. The blacksmith spat into the dirt defiantly.

  “A thousand apologies, friends,” the soldier hissed with a serpentine smile. “It appears my friend Idech has had a long day. I’m sorry, but he can take no commissions at present. Any arms to be had belong to the army, by order of that, oh what was it you called him, Idech? Bottom-dwelling inbreed?”

  “Bold words when you are the only ones with the means to enforce them,” the smith spat, looking hard at his anvil. The soldier chuckled, walking over and placing a hand on the smith’s shoulder, gripping it tightly.

  “Something like that,” he said quietly.

  Without warning, the soldier pulled a dagger from under his cloak and drove it into the black man’s neck with an enormous amount of force. Paige screamed as the smith sank to the floor, grasping for the knife and gurgling for air that could not enter his flooding lungs. The soldier didn’t even blink, merely pulling the knife out and wiping the blood off his blade with the sash at his waist. The smith sputtered, twitched, then ceased to thrash, his eyes open wide and lifeless. The shock of the immediate brutality made Paige weak in the knees. She clutched Robert’s arm for support. He was tense, his hand fingering the scimitar at his waist.

  “It’s damnable shame, treason,” he said, as calm and guiltless as if he had just picked a flower in a meadow even with a man lying lifeless at his boots. “Idech here seemed to think free speech came without a price. Should have kept his mouth shut.”

  Robert took a step back.

  “I believe we’ll be on our way now,” he said with measured words.

  “Easy there merchant. You are free to go, assuming you give up your sister.”

  Paige’s grip tightened on Robert’s arm. She could have sworn she felt heat pulse through his clothes.

  “This is my wife, and you will have no such thing,” Robert hissed through clenched teeth. The man chuckled.

  “First off, neither of you wear an armband, so even if she isn’t your sister, she is not yours. Secondly, I wasn’t asking.”

  Without warning six other soldiers jumped out of the dark alleys on either side of the booth and pounced onto Robert. Two of the men ripped Paige away from Robert while the others knocked the fellow on his back. Paige screamed. A nearby soldier clamped a hand over her mouth. She struggled as hard as she could, kicking and thrashing, biting even though the man’s leather glove kept her from being able to do much damage. The other troops were beating and kicking Robert, who was shouting and shoving at the soldiers as hard as he could. Paige’s heart raced with terror.

  “Take her away,” the leader hissed, and the soldiers began to drag her down the alley. The leader looked around to be sure no one was following them. Paige tried screaming, but they just slapped her in the face, not even bothering to cover her mouth. Who would help her?

  “Quickly,” he hissed. “To the barracks.”

  They made their way down another ally and were heading for the street on the other side when a black cloaked figure leapt from the house rooftop above, landing in their path nimbly like a cat, standing slowly. He was tall, thin, and held a staff with a hooked blade on the top.

  Jesnake. She bit her tongue so as not to give him away.

  The elf flung the hood off his head and glared at the men with slanted eyes like a wolf’s that reflected the white moonlight. Paige could feel the hatred and hostility emanating from him like heat waves off a hot stone.

  “Raider!” one of the soldiers gasped in apprehension. Jesnake took a defensive stance, the bladed staff pointing wickedly at the men.

  “Get out of the way, Raider. We have no beef with you!” another soldier shouted.

  Jesnake glared. “Where are you taking that girl?”

  “None of your business. Just having a bit of fun,” one responded.

  “It doesn’t look like the lady is having fun.”

  “Enough. Just kill him if he won’t move. N
o one is going to miss a Raider this far west,” the leader snapped. Three of the guards rushed the elf, leaving one to hold Paige immobile.

  The men who charged Jesnake showed immediate skill. They attacked in a V-shaped formation, two advancing first with the other running close behind. They had drawn scimitars raised above their turbaned heads with no fear of the dark warrior before them.

  The first tried to attack Jesnake on his left. Jesnake swung the bottom end of the studded staff upwards, catching the falling blade before it descended upon his head. He twisted the staff around faster than a diving eagle, hitting the second attacker in the stomach, knocking him backwards. The elf planted the butt of the staff in the dirt and, grabbing it with both hands, propelled both legs into the third man. The tough soles of his boots slammed into the Shaud’s face, the force lifting the man off his feet and throwing him to the ground.

  Jesnake landed nimbly as he completed the full circle swing, sending the hooked blade end of the staff into the first soldier who was trying to jump him from the side. It sank through his chain mail shirt like a garden rake through a ripe squash. The soldier didn’t make a sound as he slumped to the muddy ground.

  The second and third attackers approached more readily, the second looking a bit green from the blow to the stomach while the third boasted a crimson line of blood trickling from a thin cut on his upper lip.

  “Last chance, Raider. Get out of the way,” the leader said from behind, grabbing Paige himself. “You might scare others into doing as you wish, but no one will avenge you when I kill you out here.”

  The soldier holding Paige shoved her to the ground and joined his comrades, bringing their ranks to three once more. She tried to scramble up, but the leader placed a cold, sharp sword blade to her throat and kept her on her back in the dirt, heart racing.

  Jesnake tossed the staff up and caught it like a javelin.

  “As long as the Creator gives me breath,” he said in a low voice, “ you will go no further with that woman.”

  “Better begin a prayer to that god of yours,” the leader roared, and the three charged him once more.

  Jesnake waited until they were within a few feet of him, then he cocked his arm back like a crossbow, throwing the staff with all his might. It left his hand like a bolt of lightning forking across a dark sky, nailing one soldier in the face, laying him low. Equally as fast, the elf drew the curved sword at his side and slashed upwards with the same movement at the next attacker. The Shaud caught the slash with his sword and parried, catching Jesnake on the arm. Paige heard the fabric rip and winced as she imagined the blood that was most certainly pouring down his arm. Jesnake didn’t let out so much as a whimper. He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled, driving his assailants’ body into the ready blade of his curved sword. He let the screaming guard fall, the weapon still lodged in his body, and whirled to face the third assailant.

  This Shaud charged with a roar, and at the last possible moment Jesnake sidestepped a stab that would have ended his life. He twisted his body so the guard ran past him. The elf quickly laced his long arms around the soldier’s neck, cutting off the air flow and grasping his fist to hold the choke. The man struggled, fighting to get free. He dropped the sword and grabbed Jesnake’s arm, trying to pry it from his neck. He tried to breathe, and his eyes rolled backwards. Then he sank to his knees and fell over face-first onto the dirt. Jesnake rose from the ground and faced the now lone leader.

  “Don’t move!” the leader hissed, pressing the sword’s edge harder against Paige’s neck. “I’ll bleed her out, don’t think I….”

  The cold steel against her neck suddenly disappeared and she whirled around to see the man gasping for air as a dark, angry figure clutched at his throat from behind.

  “Princess!” Jesnake shouted, lunging to her side. He shielded her eyes. “Don’t look. You don’t need to see this.”

  But he couldn’t shield her ears from the gasping sound followed by a loud CRACK as the Shaud’s neck snapped. The soldier’s body thudded hard on the stoney ground without another sound, save the clank of rock striking metal armor.

  Paige shoved herself free of the elf’s protective embrace. Robert stood over the soldier, heaving. Paige ran to him and threw her arms around him, tears of fear and relief silently sliding down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” he pleaded, hugging her back. “I’m so sorry. We should have left. I’m so-”

  “I hear soldiers,” Jesnake urged, ushering the two back out of the alleyway. Paige heard the clatter of armor and men calling out to each other quizzically.

  “Let’s get out of here before they shut the gates for the night,” Jesnake said, taking off down the alley. “We need to make it back to camp s quickly as possible.”

  ◆◆◆

  “You idiot!” Dinendale burst at Robert’s conclusion of their story. The three had arrived at camp a few hours later.

  “It’s not his fault,” Jesnake winced as Woodcarver bandaged the wound on his arm.

  “The initial encounter, no,” Dinendale spat. “But when six soldiers die in a garrison, that’s a red alert to everyone in the city!”

  “What would you have me do?” Robert shouted. “They saw us and knew our faces!”

  “I know that!” Dinendale shouted back. “But now they’ll be looking for us. They will have shut down the city, and you know the prince will hear of it. He’s no fool. He’ll put two and two together!”

  “You’d rather I’d have left her to those men?” Robert roared back. “So they could do to her what they did to Elethia?!”

  Dinendale’s face contorted into a nasty, wicked glare. “How dare you.” The cold whisper sent chills through everyone in camp.

  “No, how dare you, Dinendale,” Robert spat back. “I did what I had to do to protect someone I care about, and for you to scream at me because I couldn’t stick to ‘the plan’ doesn’t change anything.”

  “ENOUGH!” Duelmaster leapt off his perch against the cave wall, his face etched in a glare Paige had never seen before on his cheerful face. He stormed over to the arguing warriors, his face red with rage. “You’re both acting like children. Din, we can’t do anything about it now. So let's crack on and get a new plan together so we can bust out the princess who isn’t currently rotting in a jail cell. Eöl, you have no right to use that against a friend, do you understand me? Elethia was a friend to all of us. You can’t blame Dinendale for what happened to her. None of us got to her in time, including you!”

  Both Dinendale and Robert stood there, stunned at the dryad’s outburst, both at a sudden loss for words.

  “Now both of you shut up, sit down, and let’s move on!” the tree spirit snapped, immediately dropping to the ground in front of the fire, legs crossed. The two glared at each other a moment longer, then followed Duelmaster’s example and sat down. There was a moment of silence as everyone calmed down, then Twostaves spoke first.

  “How did you end up in the ally, Jesnake?” the giant queried.

  Jesnake took a swig of water from a wineskin and wiped his mouth on his non-bandaged arm. “Luck or higher intervention, take your pick. Entering the city was a breeze. The soldiers were scared as rabbits in a hunt. I was able to walk past any post without being bothered, so I went into the officer’s encampment to see what information I could glean. They take their residence within the second wall, on the southern side of the city.”

  “And?” Robert prodded. “What did you find out?”

  “The soldiers here are all the way from the capital of the empire. Not many knew why, but one plastered lieutenant told me they were, in fact, the regiment that had attacked the princess’s village. They wiped out several other tribes along the way.”

  “Barbarians!” Twostaves, mashed his fist into his other hand with frustration and anger.

  “So I visited several inns that the higher-ups frequent. There I heard several men at a corner table talking about some secret operation. The more I listened, the more I realized there w
as some sort of plot going on.”

  “A plot?” Dinendale’s head snapped up.

  “Aye. When one of them went outside for some air, I pretended to be in on the secret, and he was so afraid of being confronted by a Raider that he told me he wasn’t the one in charge. He gave me a location I could find a brigadier general, but I got turned around, and to my shame, slightly lost. I tried climbing a building and looking for him, and that’s when I heard Paige scream.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Paige said softly.