Some Sort of Glitch

by Wade Adrian

  His hands laid out some looming problems. The girl from the night before was the king's eldest child, who, surprising no one, wanted her younger brother dead. And maybe the king, too, depending on his reaction. Both were paying jobs.

  Max's hands fumbled a few times. Tripping over words. It didn't help that the thieves cant was a fairly primitive way to trade information. "Princess" wasn't a word. It was literally just "king daughter."

  It also didn't help that Max was clearly agitated at the very idea.

  Tom shrugged and signed back. "Normal stuff."

  "Normal?" He didn't say it out loud, but his face held all the scorn and concern it would have anyway.

  Tom chuckled. He glanced around, speaking out loud. "They got any soap?"

  "Pretty sure that's a bad idea in a hot spring, since you never empty it."

  "Probably shouldn't have peed then." Tom swept his fingers around idly. This was a lot easier for him, apparently. "I say we do what she asked. King is clearly unstable. Boy is weak. Bad ruler."

  Max frowned.

  Tom rolled his eyes. His gestures were smaller, more precise. "Better for us anyway. Gives us leverage. She will know what we are capable of, and less likely to turn on us since we'll have dirt."

  Max shrugged one shoulder at that. "Hurry up. We need to get outfitted yet."

  "Outfitted?"

  "They're not sending us to knock over enemy strongholds with our bare hands."

  Tom tugged at the collar of his dark blue coat while they walked, supposedly, to the armory. His pants were dark blue, too. His boots were black. "This place is covered in snow. Maybe year round, as far as I know. Is the concept of camouflage really that advanced?"

  "More of a pride thing, I think. Like a sports team."

  "Sports teams aren't dodging arrows." He tapped a finger against his bearded chin. "Well maybe track and field. Javelins, too. Shot put has to hurt."

  Max knocked on a heavy wooden door rather than replying. It opened a few moments later.

  A balding man ushered them inside. He had his own blue meany outfit. "I am told that the pair of you are authorized to take what you feel is necessary. Weapons and armor, primarily."

  Tom whistled as he looked over the stands bearing armor and racks holding weapons. He had dumped his old leather and rusty armor into his inventory before coming over, but now he just dumped it on the floor.

  The balding man made a face at it, but didn't say anything.

  Good man.

  Professional.

  These people didn't seem big on plate armor, but they had some. Tom snagged a new chain shirt, with sleeves this time, and a breastplate and shoulders to go over it. No such luck on the hands or boots, but he found some reinforced leather stuff. He got a helmet with a visor, too. Very swanky next to the cooking pot he'd been wearing.

  While Tom was digging through the stuff on offer, baldy carried a box to Max. "Lady Tovi has requested that you be given this."

  Max's eyebrow crept up, but he took the box.

  There was a chain shirt inside, made of tiny little links. It seemed thin and light, and had practically no gaps around the rings Tom could see. Like a metal cloth. His own seemed far less fine, but it also seemed like it could take a lot more hits. That one looked like a display piece.

  Max, being a former paladin, no doubt could tell. But having been a paladin also infected him with politeness, so he bowed his head. "Thank you."

  Tom fiddled with the visor on his helmet as he wandered over. "Whassat?"

  "It's... magical."

  "Really? Swanky for our level."

  "Quite. I'll be hard pressed to find anything made of leather in here that compares, and it's listed as light armor."

  "Sweet. Guess she really does want us to..." he remembered the extra set of bald ears in the room, "succeed."

  "Looks like." Max took his coat off before putting the shirt on. It fit close like it was vacuum sealed or something. He put the coat back on over it.

  Tom tossed a few bits of blue leather at him. "Layer up. You need all the help you can get.

  Max didn't argue, putting on more leather on top the uniform. All of it was dyed the same color. Not exactly interesting to look at, but it certainly stayed on brand.

  Tom swung a few different weapons, trying to figure out which he liked best. Wood had a good heft, and always had the option of being set on fire for that extra "Fuck you" effect. Metal was certainly stronger, though. Better durability. Probably do more damage.

  He gave a few test swings, near baldy, who stayed still quite expertly, of a two handed mace with triangular bits making up the head. Like it had a bunch of axe blades that came to a point all the way around the top.

  He knew he wouldn't want to get hit with it.

  Max found himself a pair of daggers again, though he stopped and stared at a rack of swords on the wall. "What's that? It's a piercing weapon."

  Baldy raised his chin. "Hmm? Oh. The estoc is a very specialized weapon. The narrow sword blade has no edges, indeed it's quite square, but it comes to a very sharp point. Its purpose is besting armor by attacking weak points. Not much use as a sword, really."

  Max lifted the sword off the wall. Its handle was long enough to use with both hands, but like baldy said, it was dull aside from coming to a point.

  "Huh." Max gave it a few swings, then a few two handed thrusts. Then poked the air a few times with one hand halfway up the blade, thrusting like a spear. "Neat. Can I try it?"

  Baldy shrugged. "It is here, so it is available. Though, as I said, its uses are quite limited."

  Tom shouldered his new mace and laid a hand on baldy's shoulder. "Don't worry. It's a sword, he'll find a way to use it. He lives for them."

  Baldy narrowed his eyes at Tom's hand. "One would expect nothing less from sellswords."

  "Ouch. Right in my pride."

  Max seemed in higher spirits as he strapped on the estoc's scabbard at his waist.

  Tom chuckled.

  All it took to make his day was a sword he could actually use.

  The sound of a distant horn echoed faintly through the halls.

  Tom tilted his head. "What's that about?"

  Baldy moved to the door, opening it once more. "His lordship requests that his troops assemble. I do believe that includes you... today."

  Tom slapped baldy on the shoulder. "Thanks for everything."

  Baldy made a point of visibly dusting off his shoulder. "Quite."

  Max picked up a helmet too, a far less elaborate brain bucket with a leather skirt dangling from the sides and back.

  Light armor was for chumps.

  Paladin boy gave baldy a nod. "Quartermaster."

  Baldy stood up a bit straighter at the use of his title. "Best of luck, gentlemen."

  Tom waved. "Just burn that other stuff I had."

  "It is the only proper thing to do with them, sir."

  He rather liked baldy.

  It wasn't hard to find where people were assembling. The main hall was basically the center of the place and you often had to pass through it to get anywhere else. This time that was their destination.

  King Brynjar stood on the dais in front of his chair, overlooking the gathering troops. He nodded to himself a few times.

  Einar stood behind the second chair, trying for the life of him to not be noticed in his shiny blue armor.

  Sure, no plate for foreign clerics, but the kid gets a tailored set. Probably wouldn't even get it dirty following them. Typical.

  The young woman who was paying them to murder the other two looked more stately than both men, wearing a gown that covered her from just under her chin down to the floor. She probably had feet, but Tom couldn't see them. She was also the only one not wearing blue, but black.

  A tad early to mourn... maybe she was going through a goth phase.

  The crow skull around her neck sort of fit that idea.

  The king raised his hands and his voice. "Make no mistake, my brothers! Today we take
back what was stolen. Today we make whole what was broken! Hold strong and our enemies will fall on your blades."

  Guy was a bit wild eyed for Tom's tastes.

  Brynjar pulled Einar into the open. "Fear not. You travel with your future king, anointed by the gods! What ill fate could possibly befall you?"

  The gathered troops cheered.

  Einar looked like he wanted to puke.

  The king clapped the boy on the shoulder, but he looked out at the group. "And even if you should fall, know that it is in the service of your home. Your people. Making them safe in this dangerous world. What nobler purpose is there?"

  It was good that he felt that way.

  "Go now, with my blessing. As soon as you are made ready, depart. Bring our enemies pain, and bring me spoils!" He lifted a bottle of mead and chugged from it like a frat boy.

  The soldiers ate it up, laughing, cheering... drinking. That was going to make the day wonderful, he could just tell.

  Einar could barely stand on his own he was so pale.

  The girl was hiding her emotions well, but her lack of cheer made plain she didn't agree with any of this.

  Some emotion flickered across her face when she spotted them, though. She wandered down from the raised dais and made her way over along the wall, the center of the room filled with boisterous cavorting.

  She didn't so much as look at Tom as she stopped beside Max. "Are you prepared?"

  "I guess." Max shrugged.

  "Did you get my gift?"

  He tapped a finger against his chest. "It's nice. Thank you."

  She smiled slightly. The first emotion Tom had seen on her. "I'm glad you like it. There's one more thing." She reached into a pocket Tom hadn't noticed at her side, her hand returning with a leather cord... and a crow skull.

  Max didn't seem pleased, but he hid his quick wince well enough that she didn't see it.

  He was still carrying his helmet, so he didn't have to take anything off. He just bowed his head a bit so she could hang it on him.

  Max straightened, but the girl's hands remained around his neck for a long moment.

  A curious gesture, and overly friendly from a royal to what amounted to a peasant. Did she favor him that much?

  She really must want these people dead.

  It was a bit odd that Max didn't seem to react to her at all. Almost like he was used to...

  Tom narrowed his eyes at them.

  Gone all night meeting with this girl. Sure business got discussed, but that wouldn't have taken long. Now little miss all-the-emotions-of-a-rock was practically fawning over him.

  And he didn't even seem to notice or think it strange.

  Because it was familiar.

  That son of a bitch.

  Her hands slipped off him a moment later, sliding down along his chest before falling to dangle at her sides. "Do be careful. This is no simple task you are given."

  Poor Max looked miserable. He didn't know what to say or do.

  It wasn't uncommon. Something far more common in the waking world, though. He had that paladin confidence in here most of the time.

  Well, usually. Clearly girly had shaken him up.

  Max lifted his helmet and plunked it on his head. "You be careful, too."

  She smiled. "Always."

  Tom rolled his eyes. Boy needed some serious lessons. He held out his hand politely. "Hello, I'm T-Caddrach. Talren's associate. I'll be helping with the land recovery effort."

  She acknowledge him for the first time, really only with her eyes. Her chin climbed a bit. "I know of you. You serve the nameless. Willingly."

  Well, there was a bit of venom there.

  He kept his hand out. "Just trying to make my way in the world, miss. My... friend has been helpful in the past."

  "The nameless is weak. It offers lies in exchange for strength. It is danger, and the danger is not to you alone. For the good of all, you would be wise to stop listening."

  Tom shrugged. "I've never been accused of being terribly wise."

  Let people underestimate him. It made things easier.

  She was apparently done talking to him. She bowed her head to Max and made her way back to the dais. No one in the room seemed to have even noticed she'd left. Most of them were still chanting and drinking. Brynjar had an arm around Einar's shoulders.

  Tom watched the room, but he leaned closer to Max. "Sooooo... what was all that about?"

  "What was what about?"

  "For a rogue, you suck at hiding things." He hooked his chin at the girl. "But maybe not at stealing things."

  "Don't know what you're talking about."

  "Honestly? I'm torn. I mean, I'm totally proud of you, but at the same time I spent last night in a dank, cold prison cell. So, to think you were-"

  Max smacked him. His hands moved in familiar gestures. "Ears. Eyes."

  "Hmph." Tom scoffed. "Suppose everything worked out. Guess it's okay with me."

  "If you say so."

  Tom watched as the room calmed a bit, men filing for the doors. They had voices raised in song.

  About a third of them still had fashionable crow skulls like Max. His fancy new bobble was... a tad unsettling, really.

  He didn't seem to care for it either, tucking it into his coat.

  Unless he was going senile and half blind, a lot of those with skulls were women. No less armed or armored.

  And they'd all be traveling together for a few days at least.

  Let paladin boy have his princess. Opportunities abounded.

  In fact... a lovely young blonde thing decked in armor was walking right by them. She had one of those trendy skulls, too. Tom put on his best smile. "Hello madam. Will you be joining us on the field of honor?"

  She walked past him, but gave a nod to Max. "Talren."

  Of course she did.

  He nodded back. "Eira."

  And she was gone, off to join the crowd making their way outside.

  Tom sighed. "Okay, I can't smell that bad, I just had a bath. What was wrong that time? And how do you know her? How do you know everybody?"

  "Eira is Tovi's right hand."

  "Of course." Tom nodded, tugging at his beard. "Who's Tovi?"

  "The princess."

  "Ah..." The pieces clicked into place... a bit. "Wait, is she going to help or babysit?"

  "Yes?"

  "So the princess doesn't trust us. Even after you-"

  Max smacked Tom's arm again.

  Tom looked down at his arm... encased in iron. "That's got to be hard on your fingers."

  He shook his hand a bit. "Well it wasn't fun."

  15

  The force thirty strong were assembled in a small courtyard in front of the castle. All of them had horses already loaded up for a camping trip.

  Tom was happy to find two of them were for them. Riding double would have been... less than dignified.

  Of course a nice carriage wouldn't have been out of the question. Or even a covered wagon. A nice place to keep the elements off them... but he had to admit, a cavalry force was better for this sort of thing.

  Not a day trip, but a war trip.

  Einar didn't look much happier as he moved his mount closer to theirs. He was holding up a rolled piece of parchment. "I could... use your opinions on this."

  Tom scoffed... quietly. Of course the kid needed them to do all the work. That was a given.

  Max didn't seem to mind. He gave a nod. "Of course, let's see."

  The map showed the entire region, and was clearly made by someone who knew some things about maps. They made the maps from the bandit camp look like doodles on a place-mat.

  There were four positions marked. A fifth seemed to be the fort they had already... recovered. If only more of them had been roadblocks.

  It all looked like a wagon wheel layout. The capital, where they were now, was dead center and the forts were basically equidistant in a pretty decent circle. Or pentagram. Whatever.

  It wasn't a bad strategy. It meant someon
e from a town always had somewhere close by to run if there was trouble.

  Well, not at the moment.

  Tom scratched at his beard. "How did you lose all of them?"

  Einar shrugged. "They were built ages ago, like the castle." He pointed at the northeast and northern points. "We haven't had control of these for more than a few days since my great grandfather's time, but it's coldest there so we let them go to hold the rest."

  "Which you have since lost."

  The boy nodded. "Yes. When we move to recover one, they would seize the opportunity to bombard another. The bandits are not organized or working together, simply opportunistic."

  Max rubbed at his stubbly chin. "They don't work together at all?"

  "They've been known to aid each other against us, but generally speaking, no. They don't. More like occasional trade partners. It's difficult to drive them off when they have strongholds to flee to and our patrols do not."

  Poor kid had no idea it was set up that way to give players something to do. Quest design 101. He just thought his people were incompetent. Well, they probably were, so that was fair.

  Max nodded a few times. "Then we strike here." He pointed at a stronghold to the west. "If we do need to withdraw, we can regroup here." He pointed at the one they had already won south of it. "Friendly ground. Means we remove their advantage."

  Tom gave a thumbs up. "And then we follow the circle around, clockwise. Each time we take one we have that much more land to fall back on if needs be."

  "Then lets get this over with." Max turned his eyes up from the map to Einar. "Assuming you agree?"

  The boy stared, blinking a few times. "Oh, yes. Right. Sounds good to me."

  Tom rolled his eyes as he climbed onto his horse.

  Somewhere there was a box that said "Einar" on the side that still had some instructions, a few extra screws, and a spine in it.

  The ride was swift. Faster than the wagon train, which was probably why they didn't have any. Fortunately for Tom horses were pack animals and his was content to follow the others while he looked over the map.

  The place they were headed didn't look like a fort... it looked like two forts with a corridor between them. If they messed this up, they'd find themselves with half a fort while the invaders hunkered down in the other half and just shut the door.