Some Sort of Glitch

by Wade Adrian

  The men in the Turtle hadn't shot back before, but they had been kind of distracted by everything being on fire at the time.

  Fortunately they were not shooting now, either.

  He turned, waving his hands at the boat. "Just hold up a minute, let me talk to them." He said it as loud as he could without outright yelling.

  Bandits were supposed to be insubordinate, after all. Command went to the strongest and loudest.

  Tom marched all the way up to the giant gate before bashing on it with his fist. "Hey, knock knock!"

  It was a long, quiet span of seconds...

  A tiny wooden hatch in the gate about shoulder height opened. There was a metal mesh protecting the man inside. "What do you want?"

  "Hi!" Tom waved. "Nice to meet you. Dave." He pointed at himself. "Look, I'm going to be blunt. There are a lot of soldiers running around all of a sudden. Don't know why, and I don't care. Me and my mates here," he waved at the boat, "were out on a run, came home only to find a fucking blue flag flying over the Ladder. So we sailed up river. Now I know we're not the best of friends, but we've got nowhere else to take this stuff, so we thought maybe we could buy our way onto your crew."

  The man inside pressed his face against the grate. "What's in the barrels?"

  "Grain, mostly. Couple at the back are already fermented and ready to drink."

  The man licked his lips before noticing Tom. His eyes cut around a few times, thoughts bouncing around his empty skull. "Give us a minute."

  The little wooden door shut.

  Tom stretched his arms up over his head and wandered a few steps away from the gate. He let out a little grunt.

  "Less movement than expected." Max's voice was almost a whisper. He was kneeling low against the wall, stealth making him difficult to see. He had Eira and the rest of his little rogue party lined up with him waiting for the door to open.

  The rest of the soldiers were in barrels. Einar, too. Tom had insisted. Everyone in these parts will recognize the prince, he'd said. A total bluff. He'd just wanted to shove the kid in another barrel.

  Tom made a show of yawning. "Maybe we hit a few."

  "Or there were just never that many in there."

  The little door on the gate opened again. "Hey, you stay right there. We're going to come have a look. Don't try anything funny, we've got archers along the wall."

  Tom scoffed. "Man, I'm looking for a roof, not a fight." He pulled a hand axe form his belt. "Make you feel better if I give you this? All I got."

  The man at the gate pondered it... before nodding. "Yes, do that."

  Tom rolled his eyes, but moved close and held the handle up to the mesh.

  It took some turning, but the axe disappeared inside.

  "Now step back."

  Tom wandered away again, hands behind his head as he stretched his back. "Hurry it up. Cold out here." He turned a bit, his eyes nearly shut as he rolled his neck a few times...

  Not one archer he could see.

  They either didn't have any... or they were experts.

  Or him being a cleric didn't help him to spot things. That one was kind of a given.

  There was a metallic shuffling sound above the gate before the first loud clank sounded. It was followed by a few others, playing rhythmically over and over.

  That went on for a few seconds before the gate shuddered, then started finally moving up.

  Yeah... there was no way they could have gotten those open without people having plenty of time to find and stop them.

  And the clanking continued.

  The gate climbed at the pace of a sloth on horse tranquilizers.

  It only made it about three feet off the ground before a much louder and high pitched pang sounded.

  The clanking ceased.

  The man Tom had seen from the other side ducked low and wandered under.

  Tom made a show of wiggling his pinkie finger in his ear. "Is it that loud every time, or do you need to oil it or something?"

  The man made a face at the gate. "Every time."

  Three more filed out, ducking low to get under the gate. They had military quality weapons and helmets on. Someone had found the armory.

  All of them wore gray scarves.

  Such fashionable bandits.

  The leado bandito waved Tom's axe about. "Lets see these goods. We'll decide if you stay after."

  Tom shrugged. "Fair enough. But don't get any ideas about just taking them and sending us off. I've got more boys than you."

  The man made a face that was lost somewhere in the span between a sneer and a smile.

  Charming fellow, really.

  Max ducked under the gate while it was still moving. Eira was right behind, and the others followed single file.

  They passed four bandits just inside. With another four manning the winch, and two to stop it, that meant this place had ten, minimum.

  All of Max's scouts together might not even be strong enough to work the gate... fortunately they didn't need to. These kind gentlemen had done it for them.

  He waved his hands, throwing the thieves cant. Everyone with him was fluent and polite enough to not complain about his apparent accent.

  Skip and the other birds had been looking the place over for hours now. They were rather inconspicuous, though they had only give him a partial understanding of the layout. Primarily only bits they could see from outside. But the stairwell to the gate controls should be this way...

  He almost ran into a man standing just outside the door. The bandit blinked a few times.

  Poor bastard.

  Daggers practically rained down on him.

  Max moved on by as two of the scouts carried the former bandit along with them.

  The door opened to a small room with a table, a pair of chairs, and, unsurprisingly, more stairs.

  The former bandit was dumped in the room and the door shut behind them as Max and Eira moved onward and upward.

  There was another door at the top, but it was standing open a crack and didn't make much noise when Max pressed it open enough to slip inside.

  Only two armed bandits were wandering the chamber. One had a whip.

  The winch had four people chained to it wearing little more than rags. Not even shoes, just wrapped feet.

  The handles of Max's daggers creaked as he clenched his hands around them.

  Distantly he remembered there was a plan, things he was supposed to be doing...

  But this would not stand.

  He ducked into the room, keeping to the shadows. The bandit with a whip stood in the center, lording over those seated under the winch's rungs. The second bandit was standing by a little window. Max had no idea what it looked down on, only that light was coming in.

  Good. His eyes would have trouble seeing in the dark room.

  People had a tendency to scream when he stabbed them. That wouldn't do. He needed to get them both before they could hurt the hostages or pull the mechanism to drop the gate.

  He stopped behind the bandit with a whip, a quick swipe from the hilt of his dagger and the man crumpled into an unconscious heap.

  The hostages shied away, whimpering.

  Max didn't have time to free them yet. He crept on by and twirled his daggers as he approached the bandit by the window.

  Both blades sank deep into the man's back.

  A scream probably would have escaped... if blood hadn't fought for the airway.

  The bandit dropped dead as a doornail.

  Max turned, ready to end the whip bandit...

  Eira was kneeling over him. She straightened and stood, wiping blood from a dagger. She gave him a nod. "Well done. Efficient, quiet."

  His eyes twitched...

  Anger clouded his thoughts for a moment. That had been his kill to make, his vengeance to administer... but he knew that was wrong. Silly, even. He sheathed his daggers and approached the hostages.

  They moved as far as they could to get away from him.

  "It's okay. We're here to he
lp."

  Well, they were here to retake the fort... but nobody would object to helping prisoners.

  The prisoners didn't seem keen on being helped, though.

  He almost jumped when a hand touched his shoulder.

  Eira stepped out in front of him, kneeling. She spoke in a language he couldn't follow.

  Right... he'd almost forgotten his was a second language here, at best.

  She listened to them for a moment before turning to the dead bandit and fishing around in his pockets for a key. "They were sailors." She said absently as she stopped beside the winch the prisoners were chained to. "They have been here a year or so, as best they understand. They don't go outside much."

  Max ground his teeth.

  They were fake people... but then so were the bandits. Hell, so was Eira.

  Their entire world had changed, their minds expanding to the point of being all too convincing facsimiles of real people.

  Freedom to think for themselves.

  To choose.

  To plan and plot and try things that would never have worked before...

  And the bandits chose to be like this?

  Even if that was the mold from which they were formed, it was still unacceptable.

  The prisoners continued to shy away from him.

  Well, he was wearing quite a bit of bandit blood. He couldn't blame them.

  He had plenty of blame for the bandits, though.

  The rest of his scouts had filed up now, taking up positions near the door, and another door on the opposite side of the room.

  He pointed at Eira. "You've got this. I'm going to do a sweep."

  She frowned. "That isn't part of the plan."

  "As long as all of you can keep this gate open, the plan is fine."

  She made to argue, but he didn't hear it. He was already crossing the door and starting down the stairs.

  If they had more prisoners, he would find them. If the bandits caught wind of things turning against them, they'd probably kill them just to be rid of them. Or try to use them as leverage... or shields.

  Not today.

  Not any day.

  Tom stifled a yawn as the bandits climbed onto his barge. "Watch your step. Gangplank has seen better decades."

  Axe man grunted. "You raid in this? Bloody brave."

  "Hey, it gets the job done and it has plenty of room for cargo."

  "Hmph." Axe man crossed his arms. "If you stay, we'll put you on crews with better boats. Burn this thing to celebrate."

  "I'd agree, if I hadn't named it after my mother."

  The soldiers knew their tasks well. Those with poles simply stood at their corners. Those minding the barrels got out of the way. Those in the barrels waited.

  The plan, for what that was worth, was that he would give the barrels up front, the few that actually had grain, to the bandits to carry in. Then his people would carry the rest in. Trojan horse style. Sort of.

  If that didn't work, Max and his people would be working to make sure the gate stayed open so Tom and his soldiers could hot foot it inside. That was plan B.

  Plan B had issues, namely that if they couldn't hold the gate open, it would be dangerous for anyone trying to cross it since it closed on a dime and weighed a few tons. That, and if it was shut Max an his people would be isolated inside the walls. Less than ideal.

  All in all, plan A was better for everyone.

  Axe man opened the first barrel he came to, as expected.

  It was full of grain. Eira and Einar managed to secure those with the barge. Tom hadn't asked a lot of questions. Job was done, he didn't care how.

  Axe man pulled a short sword from his side and stabbed it down into the grain repeatedly.

  It came away clean, aside from a few bits of grain.

  Tom raised an eyebrow. "No worms I'm aware of."

  Axe man sheathed his sword. "Not just the ladder, you know. Those soldiers paid us a visit too. Tried to burn us out."

  "Thing is made of stone."

  "I didn't say they were bright."

  Tom grunted. "Sounds like Brynjar is getting uppity. We should get this stuff inside before he comes back by."

  Axe man opened another barrel, this time fishing around inside with his axe.

  A cry went up from somewhere inside the Turtle.

  Well... that wasn't part of the plan. Hopefully Max hadn't run into too much trouble.

  But... maybe he could use that. "Is that normal?"

  Axe man slapped the barrel shut. "No." He waved his people, and at Tom's, then at the barrels. "Get these inside, quick." He shook his head before shading his eyes and looking up at the Turtle. "The gate is still open. They can't be that close yet. They must have seen someone approaching."

  Tom pointed and gave his people a whistle. "Best get moving then."

  The bandits turned the barrels on their sides and started rolling them up the dock toward the gate.

  "Uhh... yeah. Rolling them is smart." He said as loud as he could, trying to frame it as talking to his people. He wanted those in the barrels to be aware... he didn't know if NPCs got dizzy but he was going to find out.

  It would be suspicious if they didn't move as fast. There was supposedly a threat.

  There really shouldn't be. The horses had two men watching them. If any of them had gotten away...

  Problem for later.

  He turned over a barrel, one of the grain ones, and started rolling it towards the gate.

  Everyone was moving a barrel... only the back few had soldiers. Several more were waiting on the barge for the next run.

  Cries echoed around the inside of the turtle. One would crop up and fade only for another to appear. The round structure made it difficult to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.

  Axe man and his boys turned their barrels up just inside, weapons drawn. "Something is not right here..."

  Tom turned up his own barrel. "Those don't sound like warnings, no."

  Axe man pointed at two of his people. "Get up there and see what's happening. Get ready to close the gate after the last of these guys are inside."

  Tom crossed his arms. "What about the rest of my cargo?"

  "If we don't die, we'll bring it in after whatever this is clears up." Axe man shoved Tom's axe back into his hands. "Welcome aboard. I have a feeling this is going to be a trial by fire."

  Tom hefted the axe. "Fun."

  The sound of padding feet appeared a few moments before a group of people wearing rags rounded a corner but stopped at the sight of them. They turned and bolted back the way they had come.

  Axe man groaned. "And now we've got slaves running free? Somebody get them rounded up, damn it!"

  Tom pointed at a few of his. "Give them a hand with that, would you?"

  He trusted they would know enough to get them somewhere safe. Even if they did round them up as requested, that was basically safe from actual bandits.

  The last of the barrels rolled in.

  In all, Tom had ten or twelve people in the walls, depending on how many barrels actually had soldiers in them. That wasn't counting the group Max had brought in. All in all, they should be in a good position to hit the defenders, and Max should have the gate locked up.

  It sounded like there was some fighting going on though... maybe they had run into trouble. But given who he had sent in, that would mean less defenders. He had faith his people knew their business.

  A fresh scream from somewhere above had Axe man's eyes moving like crazy. When he turned enough to notice Tom's people, he held up his hands and yelled at the gate house above. "That's it, get that damned thing closed!"

  Nothing happened.

  A door on a walkway about halfway up the structure flew open, bashing against the stone wall. A bandit appeared before the door settled, his arms flailing as he ran. "No no no!" His feet scraped against the stones.

  A dark flowing shape gave pursuit.

  It outpaced the man easily, a dark black line erupting from his chest.
/>   He screamed as he was lifted off the wall.

  Axe man stared, eyes wide. "Sweet Boran..."

  Boy was he off the mark.

  The dark form turned, heaving the bandit into the open air.

  He plummeted, limp as a rag doll, barely bouncing as he struck the ground in the stone courtyard.

  It left a rather disturbing puddle.

  A door on the level below opened, a bandit wandering out and looking down to see what had happened.

  The dark form fell on him, the black metal once more simply impaling the man.

  Another bandit appeared from a door behind the figure. It raised a spear and charged...

  Only to be enveloped in a swarm of cawing ravens and crows. Pecking, clawing, scratching.

  The bandit yelled, sweeping his hands... before a misstep sent him tumbling down into the courtyard as well.

  Axe man stuttered. "What in the..."

  Tom held his axe against the man's throat. "If I were you, I'd surrender. Healthier."

  21

  Tom chuckled softly as he pulled on the rope that hoisted the dark blue flag high above the Turtle.

  Men in blue were cheering all around the place. The few remaining bandits had been rounded up and tied together in a pigpen down in the courtyard.

  The slaves they had been keeping were kind of a surprise. Most were former sailors from ships the bandits had hit, though a few were local farming types. They... hadn't had the nicest life up till now. Most seemed jazzed to be liberated, though. A few would probably sign up to wear the blue. Bonus.

  Might make it a bit faster to get onto the next fort.

  "Two down, two to go." Tom nodded at the flag flapping overhead.

  Max... was a mess. If blue plus red equaled purple, those guys had bled something other than red, because his outfit was basically black with hints of mud.

  He didn't respond, just sat staring between two merlons atop the wall.

  Tom clapped him on the shoulder. "We're getting good at this. Got to be getting some good rep here, too. I might actually be a bit sad to ride away from it. I may shed a tear or two."

  Max grunted. "Can't come soon enough."

  Tom chuckled. "We pull this sort of shit again? Be done in no time."

  Skip and a few other birds sat on the raised stones, huddling around Max, as they tended to do. They shied away from Tom, but never got far.