Reciprocity : Volume 1 of The Fledgegate Cycle

by Zachary Smith

  Chapter 10

  Glem could see a familiar looking patchwork cloak disappearing around the next street corner as they approached Oarf sweeping in front of the inn.

  “Oarf, do you have troubles? Every time I show up in a room or turn a corner, he seems to be disappearing,” Glem said as he gestured in the direction of the disappearing cloak.

  “From that one? No. No trouble, as long as you stay on Eiriean’s good side,” Oarf replied. “Supper will be on soon. Get a table, and I will let Eiriean know you are looking for food when it’s ready.”

  “Thank you, Oarf. That will give me some peace and quiet while these two soot mice wash up.”

  “Hey, I’m not that dirty,” Alyra exclaimed. “Rues did all the work.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Glem replied. He laughed and handed her a small, carefully polished steel mirror that he had picked up in the market earlier.

  Everyone laughed at Alyra’s gasp when she saw the unmistakable tracks of sweat through the soot from the forge on her face.

  “Rues, why didn’t you tell me I was such a mess? I can’t believe you let me walk through the whole city looking like this. This is not funny,” Alyra said, blushing enough to show through the soot.

  “It’s good for you to get a little dirty sometimes. Now you look like someone that can do real work,” Rues laughed. “Truth be told, I could use a bath after supper myself.”

  “Girls, go wash up and find me downstairs after. I have a couple of things to discuss with our host,” Glem said to the retreating back of Alyra.

  Rues shrugged and followed her into the inn. “Now, friend Oarf, if you are done sweeping, let’s you and I have a pint while we talk about things.”

  They entered the inn, and Glem moved to what was fast becoming his favorite table near the fire. Oarf followed a moment later, after he placed the broom behind the bar and poured two pints.

  “The guards came for you this morning. Last night, you were deep in conversation with Jorick, and then he left out of here almost running. There is trouble coming, isn’t there?”

  “What does your friend with the cloak tell you?” Glem asked, taking a pull at his glass.

  “He…” Oarf trailed off for a moment, staring at the table.

  “I wish you weren’t so observant. He doesn’t like attention.”

  “He’s young. He’ll get better at paying attention with practice,” Glem replied without looking up from his beer. “You can tell him, while you refill my pint, that he can join us now, or after dinner. I expect he and I need to have a discussion.”

  “Huh, I don’t take your meaning,” Oarf said, looking confused.

  “I may be old, but I am not blind. He hurried around the street to the back of the inn and is in the kitchen now. I saw him through the little window in the door when you went for the beer,” Glem said. “Since you know that as well, and he is in there with Eiriean, he is either a friend to the two of you or holding her hostage. Whichever case it is, I think we need to chat.”

  “That will have to wait,” said Jorick from the door, the exhaustion of a day’s planning clear in his slow walk to the table and the slight stoop of his broad shoulders. “Besides, if it is who I think you are talking about, he is a friend to this house many times over and will probably be helping to keep an eye on the girls for the next few days.”

  “The Captain has decided a scouting party should go look at these towns you spoke of,” Jorick said, not bothering to hide his words from Oarf. “He told me that not only should I take you along with us, but that if anything happens to follow your lead.”

  “Humph,” Glem replied.

  “Exactly who are you?” Jorick demanded.

  “Did Lorne say anything more about me after I left?”

  “No, when I returned from issuing the orders for the guard, he was deep into his planning. I asked about you, but all he said was, ‘It’s his own story. If you are brave enough, you can ask him yourself.’ That is concerning coming from a man I have personally seen beat the snot out of three armed men with nothing but a big stick.”

  “Hmm, maybe...” Glem said as the girls, freshly washed, appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Girls, come join us. Supper will be up soon. Jorick, Oarf, our conversations will have to continue later.”

  “Rues, how was the forge today? The smith seemed pretty happy with your work,” Glem said to Rues as they sat down, moving the conversation to safer topics.

  “The hammer felt good, but the fire was off somehow. The steel seemed to stay hot longer than it should. Even Alyra noticed. The smith either didn’t notice or didn’t say anything if he did. The blade is done, as is the steel hardware, but the hilt still needs to be finished, and we’ll need a new scabbard. During the repairs, I moved some of the steel around and reshaped the blade.”

  Glem looked at Jorick. “Let’s look after dinner. I am sure our friend Jorick might know someone who can fit a sword out,”

  “There is a woman in the market that does that kind of work along with other stuff. She is who I would see. A tough old bird, that one.”

  “Far side of the market, gray hair in a tight bun, and an attitude that would make the devil sit up straight?” Glem asked.

  “If you knew her, why did you ask?” Jorick replied with mock irritation.

  “Here now, have another pint, Jorick. I just met her by accident today and didn’t know she did that kind of work,” Glem replied.

  Mollified, Jorick acknowledged the point with a nod and a smile.

  “Girls, you have a meeting with her in the morning to get fitted for boots and travel clothes. Don’t sass her, and she has been paid, so ask for what you need and don’t give her any cheek. I’ll write out directions, so be there just after the market opens. Rues, take that sword with you, and see if she can get it finished.”

  Oarf rose to take the large platter from his wife and side it onto the table.

  “Ah, that looks delicious.”

  Quickly setting bowls of hot onion soup in front of everyone, Eiriean sliced into the massive loaf of bread. “This is one of my favorites, meat and vegetables stuffed into a bread and baked to a nice crispy crust.” She placed a thick slice on the plate in front of each of them. “Now you boys don’t sit here gabbing and let it get cold. I have to get back to my kitchen, or the whole place might burn down while you are regaling me with tales of your antics.”

  “I’ll be in to help shortly,” Oarf called to his wife and smiled at her.

  “This is really good. She’s a much better cook than you are. Maybe she would give you lessons,” Rues teased.

  Alyra punched her in the shoulder.

  “She smells a lot better than you. Maybe she would teach you to bathe.”

  Glem laughed at the girls’ interplay.

  “Eat up and turn in early. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  Alyra wiped her bowl with the last of her bread. “That was really good. Maybe I will see if she can teach me,” she said, bumping Rues with her shoulder.

  “Girls, I need to speak with Oarf and Jorick about some of what we saw coming in. Why don’t the two of you grab another table, and you can each have a beer before you go up.”

  Rues grabbed Alyra and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, before he changes his mind.”

  After setting a fresh round of beers in front of the remaining group, Oarf settled back into his chair.

  Glem looked at the men and hesitated a moment before he quietly set his sword onto the table in front of them. He slipped the wrapping from the pommel that he had put on at the campsite, then carefully took his signet from the thong on his neck and laid it next to the sword. He sipped his beer as he sat back in his chair and watched Jorick’s reaction.

  Jorick picked up the ring, studied it carefully, and compared it to the pommel of the sword. He looked back and forth between Glem and the ring several times, then took a long draught of his beer. He drained the mug, grabbed Oarf’s, then drained it too.

  “
Everyone said you had been dead for close to fifteen years,” Jorick said quietly.

  “Seems I also heard that once before recently,” Glem replied, thinking of his conversation with Lorne that morning.

  Glem took another sip of his beer. “Alyra is my granddaughter. When my son and his wife died, I left to take care of her. I thought this part of my life was over until a week ago.”

  “Jorick, am I missing something? Can one of you explain this to me?” Oarf asked.

  “That ring and sword are… Do you have the other one?” Jorick asked as Glem set his dagger on the table next to the sword. “I never thought to see a set,” Jorick continued. “The ring, sword, and dagger are a set. Forged together when a new Sentinel was created. There have only been thirteen sets made since the Kingdom was founded. I don’t know much about it, but I have heard stories my whole time in the guard about the Sentinels. Supposedly,” he said, glancing up at Glem, “each time the King creates a new Sentinel, his arms are laid on the great stone marker in the hall of the king. Once every several generations, a man swears on the stone, a ring forms on it, and a new Sentinel is created.”

  Glem nodded without speaking.

  “Beyond that, the rest is more fantastic. Sentinels are supposed to be stronger and faster, Indestructible in battle,” Jorick said.

  Snorting loudly, Glem said, “Then I bear an awful lot of scars for someone that is supposed to be indestructible.”

  “I said more fantastic,” Jorick replied.

  “There are as many myths about Sentinels as there are leaves on a tree. I will tell you that I am neither indestructible, nor can I shoot fire out of my ass,” Glem replied. “Until just about a week ago, I hadn’t held a sword in more than a decade. When do we leave to scout? I could use a refresher with the sword before we go. That is how indestructible I am.”

  “Tomorrow, and as for your refresher. I’ll clear it with the Captain and set something up,” Jorick replied.

  Chapter 11

  It is chilly this morning, but the sunrise promises a beautiful day is coming, Glem thought as he walked the quiet streets of the early morning. The sound of barked orders and the sharp clack of training swords carried softly to Glem’s ears well before the keep was visible. The squat building that served as a keep and training grounds for the guard showed itself as Glem came around the corner.

  I’m too old for this. Hopefully, I haven't lost too much… that would be embarrassing.

  Glem stopped to talk to the men standing guard at the entrance to the keep. "Good morning. I was told to find Jorick here this morning."

  "He's in with the Master at Arms, training the cadets. You're Glem?" the guard asked.

  "Yes."

  "He said you would be coming this morning. Follow the edge of the courtyard to the north wall. This early, they are usually standing in the first of the morning sun.”

  "Thank you."

  The clatter of the practice swords was getting louder as he stepped through the gate. Hmm, primary forms. The occasional yelp of a hit was remarkably familiar. He turned his back to the wall and watched, unconsciously rolling back to parade rest with his hands clasped behind him, weight settled on his heels. Glem smiled to himself and felt an odd sense of homecoming at the familiar practice.

  ✽✽✽

  Rues and Alyra woke up to the smell of bacon frying and the sounds of a bustling kitchen. Oarf and Eiriean’s inn was well known for its breakfast, and neither was inclined to miss another serving of its famous pancakes. Early by city standards, the two girls were still accustomed to waking before the sun peaked over the horizon.

  “Last night was awful,” Rues said sleepily. “I only had one ale, but it hit me hard. I sweated through my blanket.”

  “I’m not surprised. You looked pretty rough when you excused yourself. I stayed up a few more hours after you went to bed and found you tossing and turning when I got up here. You were also talking in your sleep. Unintelligibly. Almost like you were awake,” Alyra joked.

  “Did I keep you up?” Rues asked.

  “You did and woke me up several times in the night. All joking aside, you worked hard in the forge yesterday. We both did! I’m not surprised one bit that you had a bad night. It was so hot in there! I don’t know how you swing that hammer the way you do. I can barely lift it,” Alyra answered.

  “Good. I’m glad I got to share the discomfort. Let’s go downstairs and get some food. I’m starving!”

  ✽✽✽

  "Why am I not surprised to find you standing here like this?" Lorne said as he arrived quietly at Glem’s side. "You standing here watching makes me feel like a green kid just learning to hold a sword again."

  "You've come a long way from the kid I was worried would cut his own leg off," Glem laughed. "The sun feels good this morning. Shall we meet with the others and see if this old man remembers anything of what he taught you?"

  The men walked over to where Jorick was standing with another man, one who watched the cadets with sharp eyes. "Good morning Jorick, Garen. This is my... this is Glem. He is going to be doing a refresher with us this morning. Glem, Garen is the Master at Arms here," the Captain said. He glanced over at Glem, who was engrossed watching the cadets, "I think we should probably start with a couple of the more experienced cadets and go from there."

  Lorne pointed at the rack and benches near the corner of the yard.

  "Glem, why don't you get a practice sword from the rack over there, and we’ll get ready." After Glem moved to prepare, he said softly to Garen and Jorick, "Garen, clear the yard if this goes as I expect. It will be... instructive. Jorick, grab a bottle of brandy from my office. We are all going to need a drink by the time we get done."

  Garen looked in askance at the Captain, and then his gaze drifted over to where Glem was peeling out of his mail shirt and gambeson, laying them next to his neatly folded cloak.

  Reconsidering the old gray man, he bellowed, "hold swords!"

  Silence fell over the yard. "Assemble!"

  The guard trainees rushed to the formation and stood at attention.

  "We are going to have some practical experience today. The Captain has asked for a refresher of the sword for a friend. We are going to provide that refresher. You are all going to take the benches around the yard. I expect you to pay close attention, and anyone not doing so will spend the afternoon with me as their practice partner."

  Watching the shudder run through the trainees, he smiled to himself. Garen gestured to several of the most experienced trainees with his practice sword. "The five of you are the most advanced, so you are going to help out. You five stay here; everyone else, take a seat."

  The yard was rapidly emptied of trainees.

  Glem looked around as he slowly stretched the practice sword across his shoulders with a hand on each end, twisting back and forth. Glem walked out to the center of the paved yard and the series of interlocked rings engraved on the stone used for training.

  He silently studied the rings for a moment before stepping into the center. Glem then balanced on the balls of his feet and started to trace the patterns of the rings. He circled the first one, then another, tracing the design on the ground, slowly at first but picking up speed with each repetition. The practice sword began to move through the pattern independent of his footsteps. Slash, block, thrust, parry. Faster and faster, his breathing came deep and slow.

  Eyes closed, he moved faster and faster still, losing himself in the movements of his youth, before stopping suddenly. He opened his eyes to find everyone in the yard staring at him.

  "I'm ready,” Glem rumbled.

  "Born, you're up first," Garen said. "You just saw him go through the forms. Now you know what to expect, so don't let him surprise you."

  Born and Glem faced one another across the engraved rings on the ground. They nodded in respect as one soldier recognizing another.

  "Good morning. Born, is it?" Glem asked the young man.

  "Yes, I didn't get your name, though," Bor
n replied.

  "I'm Glem; I appreciate your help this morning."

  "Ha, I do what I'm told," Born said with a smile. "I'll try and go easy, though."

  "No, lad. Please, do your best. If I can't keep up, sore ribs are great teachers."

  Glem stepped back and took a deep breath; he let the sword fall to a loose low guard position. "At your pleasure."

  Born brought his sword up as he stepped forward, a smile on his face. I must be careful not to kill the old man by accident, he thought.

  Feint and thrust. The practice sword rang painfully in Born's hands, the quick flick of Glem’s sword deflecting the thrust and leaving a stinging line across his ribs.

  “What the hell?”

  "Come on, lad, no need to hold back. I'm old, not dead,” Glem said.

  He stepped back out of reach, realizing this may not be as easy as he’d thought.

  Born brought his sword back up to guard. He circled to the right, forcing Glem to turn to face him as he moved slowly around. Born feinted.

  Glem shifted to the side to let it slide past without reaction, then he waited for the attack as he considered his opponent. He is leading with his left foot and telegraphing his decisions with the tip of the sword. Hm. Sloppy.

  Born moved in rapidly and attacked with a quick series: overhand stroke, parry, thrust, advance, thrust, parry, always attacking and moving forward.

  Glem stepped forward into Born's attack, gently dropping the tip of the practice sword and raising the hilt slightly to use the upper part of the blade to block Born's sword. He slid forward past him, flicking the blade under Born's guard and slapping it against his ribs. Glem turned in to slap using the momentum of the attack, the flick of the tip driving into the tendons of the forearm of Born's sword arm. Finishing the smooth rotation, he came back to a low guard.

  Born dropped his sword, clutching at his ribs and arm. "Aagh! What the hell was that?"

  "Hmm, sorry lad. That arm is going to be numb for a bit. If you massage the tendons just in front of your elbow, you'll get the feeling back faster,” Glem said, scooping up Born's practice sword and handing it back to him.