A Soldier's Honor: The Scepter of Maris: Book One

by Barnes, James R.

  They passed two alleys before Percy picked one to turn down, and as they left behind the last bit of light from the few oil lamps that were actually filled, he came to a stop and faced his two friends.

  "Our man has a room at the Humble Servant on Merchant's Row, but he paid Edward Batten for the use of the store room above his cooperage durin' the day for the next week. It's a good spot to watch the eastern gate from. Ed di'nt even question the man, he just handed him a spare key to the back door, took his money, and is now tryin' his best to drink through it all as quickly as he can," Percy explained, shaking his head.

  Sticky just snorted, and eased a knife in and out of its sheath. Wood looked at Percy, but took a moment to think before he spoke.

  "Can we get to him at the inn without too much of a fuss, or should we wait until he goes to his to his lookout post?" Wood asked. He wanted to get his hands on the man right away, but would defer to his mentor's judgment.

  The two older men exchanged a quick look and a nod before turning back to Wood. "We'll keep an eye on 'im tonight and catch 'im first thing as he enters the cooperage. That way no one sees us followin' and and he won't have time to settle in. Might be less likely to be payin' mind to his surroundins," was Percy's answer.

  "Alright... who takes first watch?"

  "Don't you worry about it. I got a boy keepin' track of 'im." At Wood's skeptical look the man explained. "Relax, the boy knows what he's doin'. Almost as good as you were." Both of his old friends chuckled at that, and Wood actually cracked a smile himself.

  "We know the stakes, and he won't get away. You just meet us in front of the Bounty before dawn. Now get some rest," Percy ordered.

  Wood just shrugged and did as the man told him.

  In the end, things were a whole lot easier than Wood thought they were going to be, considering all of the trouble this one person had caused. The man must have become over-confident, or just sloppy. Either way he was taken without too much trouble.

  Percy stood watch at the inn just to make sure the quarry did not head to any other location. Wood and Sticky lay in wait near the back of the building he would eventually be entering. They were hidden pretty well, and should not be detected unless the man was extremely vigilant. Wood watched as the man passed them, his breath misting the air was barely visible in the early morning shadows of the back alley. He went by without even looking around so he was possibly assuming that since he could detect no one following him; he was safe. They moved as soon as they heard the key hitting the lock. Wood had to give the man some credit, since he moved before they reached him, even though they were being quiet and moving fast. The weasel spun quickly drawing a long dagger from his hip and lunging. Sticky met him head on, without hesitating he blocked the blade with his own and caught the other hand's blow on his forearm. He barely grunted as he and the enemy separated and then began dancing around, exchanging lightning fast strikes and parries. The weasel definitely knew how to use his knife, but he was not as skilled as Sticky. The fight probably would have ended much sooner, if they had not needed the man alive. As it was, he was doing a good job of keeping Sticky between himself and Wood until, after a particularly furious exchange, Sticky caught the man's off hand up high and his blade out to the side away from Wood. The Sergeant did not hesitate to dive forward grabbing the shoulder of their quarry with one hand to steady himself, and with the other he struck the man in the back of the head with his cudgel. The weasel dropped like a rock, unconscious before he hit the ground.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Respite

  Meric was once again sitting on the wagon with Alyssa as the party cleared the last of the trees and caught sight of Seegrin's walls. Still about two hours away, the city did not look like the bustling hub of trade that it had become known as. Once they topped the hill in the distance and had a clearer view of the area surrounding the city, it would become more evident. The city's formidable walls enclosed a thriving, and diverse populace of shop owners, craftsman, and traders several times larger than that of Yost. Over the last decade the population had increased enough that some of the smaller businesses and poorer people had settled outside the walls. Near the gate were the nicer establishments, becoming less affluent as the expanded city spread north and south hugging the wall all of the way to the river that flowed on the west side of Seegrin.

  As they moved away from the shelter the trees provided against the cool breeze coming out of the west, the temperature seemed to drop a good ten degrees due to the wind chill. The overcast sky offered no relief and more than one person was seen digging for a cloak or blanket to provide some protection from the suddenly cutting winds. Alyssa shivered and pulled her blanket tighter around herself and Melanie Ellis, who was sitting between her and Meric and snuggled into Alyssa's side. The girl seemed to be recovering, but had yet to speak more than one word answers to any questions. They had decided that they knew enough about what happened and there was no need for her to relive it. She had been traumatized enough.

  Though the girl was still having nightmares, the haunted look was becoming scarcer as the days went by. The attention provided by Teresa and Sara, who were constantly trying to cheer Melanie up, helped. She also never strayed far from either Alyssa, Meric, or Brody. At some point they would need to look for any living relative that could take care of her, as well as making a decision on what to do with the farm that would now belong to her.

  Alyssa turned to Meric as she set these thoughts aside for the moment. She had been talking to him about his life since he left Rennick and used the small distraction of the city coming into view to process what he had just told her.

  "So you have actually met the King before?"

  He shifted his focus from the countryside back to her. "I have. Somehow word reached him about my horses and he found my place on his way back from a visit to Whitehall. This was about four or five months ago... I think."

  "And these horses were bred from ones you stole from the King of Rennick?"

  "Stole is such a negative word. We staged a daring rescue of those imperiled, downtrodden, yet ever noble steeds."

  She gave an unladylike snort.

  "Hey, you have no idea the kind of man Xavier is," Meric explained. "He is just as abusive to his animals as he is to people. Morgan even has a bad scar on his flank to prove it."

  She waved off his comment with a blanket shrouded hand. "Forgive me... bred from horses you liberated. So, from famous General to famous horse breeder. You do not do anything half way, do you?"

  "Commander, not General. My father taught me to put forth your best effort in all that you do. A sentiment that has served me well."

  "Well, Commander... what is a wealthy horse baron like yourself doing getting mixed up in a mess like this? You could have just delivered us to the Captain and went on your way."

  Now it was Meric's turn to snort in amusement. "A man of humble means, like myself, must always be looking for opportunities to get ahead. Like rescuing Princesses."

  She just raised an eyebrow at that.

  "Seriously?" he shrugged. "Some things are more important than money, property, or being inconvenienced. I could not just sit around while knowing that you and those girls were in danger. My father also taught me that doing nothing to stop an injustice is just as bad as committing it yourself. He was very philosophical for a simple woodsman." Meric grinned after he finished speaking.

  She appreciated the fact that he was trying to keep things light, and readily returned his smile. She knew that she came across as too serious at times, but that did not mean she was incapable of humor or light-hearted moods. Which certainly was easier now that the city's walls were in view. The entire party seemed to have loosened up, even while remaining watchful. The city ahead was a much needed bulwark against their enemies, and the anticipation of real rest and reinforcement was almost palpable.

  She was about to ask Meric about his father when activity on the road ahead could be seen in her peripheral vision. He mu
st have noticed as well, since he turned to look in that direction at the same time she did. A merchant caravan, that had most likely left the city a few moments before they had cleared the woods, was just passing Malina where she was waiting for the escort. They were about a hundred yards ahead and not slowing, though it appeared that some words were exchanged between the lead cart and the former Rennick scout. Alyssa was sure that Malina was cautioning them to be wary of trouble on the road. They had passed a few groups (small and large) over the last two days and had been warning them to keep an eye out for trouble, usually claiming rumors of bandits on the road to Yost, instead of going into any details. The same would be told to people leaving Yost and headed west. They would let the King decide on how to inform the people. The fact that they had not seen anyone until after the ambush was troubling, but they found no evidence of waylaid travelers and there was supposed to have been a fall festival going on in Seegrin in the last week which might have kept travelers in the city. After a few curious glances, they were mostly ignored by the caravan as it passed them.

  The escort picked up the pace a bit as they reached the outlying edge of the community outside the walls, but had to slow again once they got closer to the gate and the traffic trying to enter the city. Alyssa was always fascinated by the sights and sounds of "The Outer See" as the locals called the part of the city outside the walls. Even though it resembled any of the sleepy smaller towns one might pass through on the road, everyone seemed to be moving at the same frantic pace that would be found inside the walls. People yelled back and forth, hawkers ran alongside the travelers trying to sell anything and everything, sounds of children at play, the smell of food, sweat and other things she did not care to identify. It was an assault on the senses. Sara and Teresa were standing behind Meric, each using one of his shoulders as a brace so they could stand on the tip of their toes and gawk. Even Melanie had perked up a bit to stare around, wide-eyed at the chaos, though she did have one little fist bunched tightly around the material of Alyssa's dress.

  James was at the front of their group as they reached the entry and made short work of getting them passed through the guarded archway. As they cleared the gate, Sgt. Woodard was waiting. He stepped forward as the wagon came to a stop next to where he leaned against the railing in front of Batten Cooperage. He reached up and clasped hands with Meric.

  "Were you successful?"

  The sergeant nodded and then gave him a wicked grin. "Even gift wrapped him for you and the Captain."

  Alyssa could actually see some of the tension leave Meric at the answer. She could whole-heartedly agree. It was a relief to feel like they were finally taking some control of things. The past week had almost made her feel like she could not breathe, a near constant struggle to keep her head above water with only brief respites here and there. While the capital was still days away, making it to shelter and reinforcements was a huge weight off of her shoulders. Time no longer seemed to be the enemy.

  Her musing was interrupted by James as he arrived at the wagon with Pierson at his side.

  "First Sergeant. Report," called Pierson, crisply.

  "Sir. The target has been located and secured at a location suitable for questioning."

  The Captain's look clearly called for further explanation, and Woodard must have agreed since he elaborated.

  "I thought you and Vettor might want somewhere private to interrogate him. He isn't too far if you would rather collect him and take him to the garrison."

  James looked at Meric without hesitation and said, "handle it, Commander. Woodard you are with him. Let Pierson know what you need and where you will be." He turned to his Lieutenant and continued, "After you get him squared away, get them moving. I will go on ahead to the garrison and let the Colonel know of our needs."

  "Yes sir," was chorused from Woodard, Pierson, and Meric.

  Meric glanced at Alyssa and then down to Melanie with a smile. "Good luck, ladies. We will catch up with you later."

  "Do not take too long, alright?" She tried to make it sound casual, but even though she knew Meric could take care of himself, she could only think about the hint of magic that came from the man they had chased and finally captured. While her studies had been very thorough, she knew that there was much she did not know about the Gift. Just being one of the Gifted herself did not mean she understood everything there was to know about magic. It was considered nothing more than a child's fancy now by most, but centuries ago people with the Gift (or the Art, as it was known then) were commonplace until a crazed act resulted in them being hunted down and executed.

  The "Purge" was started by the Mad King Jon when his court wizard could not heal the prince of some unremembered malady. The King went insane with grief at the loss of his only son and after bringing in the third Gifted, who also failed, he irrationally started to believe that magic was responsible for his son's death. The Purge lasted twenty years, beginning a small civil war and killed most of the people who had the Gift. Those that got away went into hiding. While the next king did not have the same aversion to magic, the fear felt by his predecessor had already spread to the population like a wild fire, fanned on by deaths resulting from Gifted adepts defending themselves, and he was forced to keep the policy of magic use being an executable offense in place. Approximately fifty years ago, Roderick's grandfather had the law abolished, but by that time magic was relegated to children's stories and only a few truly believed that it was real. King Roland kept the change quiet, believing that eventually the magic would resurface on its own. He was even the one that started calling it 'the Gift' in an effort to make it a positive, more appealing notion. Now only a limited number of people were trained as Gifted and they were one of Glendon's closely guarded secrets.

  She wanted to tell Meric of her Gift and what she sensed about the man he was on his way to question, but the order to never reveal the secret unless her life or the lives of others were in immediate danger, kept her quiet. She had never even considered defying her King before, but as she watched the man she was quickly becoming a close friend to walk toward Brody with Woodard at his side, she wanted to do so very badly.

  After watching Meric wave Brody over and resigning herself to feeling guilty, she looked for Pierson. Once the three men disappeared down a nearby alley, the Lieutenant signaled to Corporal Harper and they started moving again.

  If the Outer See was an assault to the senses, inside the walls was all out war. The main thoroughfare was lined on each side by all manner of businesses, from a variety of stores, to workshops, to inns and alehouses. A mass of people crowded the road, going about their business with determination. Whether local or just coming in to the city, the throng was full of all shapes and sizes. Two dark skinned Islanders from the south-east were haggling with a man in front of a spice shop while a third sat atop a nearby wagon watching them, a pale man that was almost as tall as Brody with a thick red beard was leading two pack animals loaded down with furs, a woman in an exotic dress of bright colors and skin the color of caramel was eyeing a man as he unloaded bags from an enclosed, elaborately trimmed carriage that was parked in front of one of Seegrin's nicer inns, even as two dangerous looking men, armed to the teeth, stood behind her watching the crowd. These were just some of the ones that stood out from the native populace of the city.

  As they made their way through the city the shops started to give way to some nice homes and when they neared the center of Seegrin, the buildings began to take on a more utilitarian look. Unlike most of the bigger towns, Seegrin had no market square, instead having the area they had just passed through and one similar on the west side of town spreading out from the docks that serviced the Glendale River. The center of the city was where all of the administrators and officials did their day to day business, including the soldiers who were stationed at the garrison.

  Riding into the garrison's training yard, Alyssa could see a very frustrated Captain Bridgewater standing in front of a gray block building next to a portly Colon
el who was looking at her group with obvious disdain. The man said something to James and then turned and entered the building next to the barracks. The Captain clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and started her way.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Taking Charge

  He arrived at the same time as Pierson, Silas, and Malina.

  "Lady Alyssa," he started. "Will you join me in the Colonel's office? The rest of you stay out here until I can secure a place for us to rest. You two try not to draw any attention to yourselves," James aimed his last statement at Silas and Malina.

  "Captain, what is going on?" Alyssa wanted some information before she went into the Colonel's office.

  James let out a disheartened sigh. "Colonel Brock Henley has informed me that he will be taking possession of my charges and see that they are returned to Dallena with a proper escort and no further ineptitude involved."

  "Oh... he will, will he?" Alyssa squared her shoulders and headed for the building that housed the offices. As they neared the entrance, two soldiers came out and started in the direction of the wagon. She paused and turned to them. "What do you think you are doing?"

  The two men ignored her completely, continuing to march toward the wagon. She could see Malina and Silas shifting to block their path, but did not want them to get involved. She concentrated and subtly (she hoped) flicked two fingers on her left hand at the soldier closest to her. The man stumbled, shoving hard into his partner and both went down to the ground in a tangle of limbs. To one with the Gift, the shimmer of air magic that had momentarily wrapped around the staggered guards feet would have been obvious. For anyone else, it looked like a clumsy man tripping on his own feet and taking down the man next to him. As the two struggled to untangle their limbs and regain their footing Alyssa quickly moved between them and the wagon. Placing her hands on her hips and drawing on every shred of nobility she could, she addressed them.