An Army of Heroes

by Scott J Robinson

  “I know,” Rake responded. “But killing them isn’t our goal. We need to get out of here.”

  Kristun set to work bandaging Crisp’s hand, wrapping it tightly with a bandage from his satchel and tying it off with a neat, professional knot.

  “Healers Guild?” Rawk asked.

  He touched the red ribbon in his beard. “Of course.”

  Rawk looked at the bandaged dwarf. “Crisp, are you right to carry Sylvia?”

  “Yes.”

  Rawk handed the elf over, wrapping the cloak carefully about her thin, pale frame. “Let’s go then.” He started down the stairs.

  On the next floor, three guards were waiting, swords drawn. They changed their minds quickly enough when Rawk strode towards them, his companions at his back. He’d hardly gone a dozen paces when they turned and fled, though it was possible they were retreating to a more secure position.

  After a few more steps, Rawk stopped.

  “What is it?” Frew asked.

  He didn’t reply. He went back to the cell with the dwife he’d seen earlier. She stared back vacantly, hardly even registering his presence. “Let her out,” he said. “Let all of them out.”

  Frew sniffed. “We don’t know what they’re here for, Rawk.”

  “I don’t care. It looks like she’s learned her lesson.”

  “Releasing Sylvia is one thing; she’s your friend and healer. But this is moving to a whole new thing, Rawk.”

  “I know. In the past we’ve just done what we were told. We had our quest and—”

  “Exactly.”

  “We were hired killers and bounty hunters. We were mercenaries.”

  “No, we weren’t. It was completely different.”

  “Was it? Really? We were just getting paid to do other people’s dirty work.”

  Frew didn’t say anything. He stared into the cell. “You’ve spent more than 35 years as a Hero, Rawk.”

  Rawk nodded and drew in a deep breath. “I know, but I’m feeling better now. Release them all.”

  “You can say Sylvia didn’t break any reasonable law. How do you justify this?”

  He looked at Sylvia, limp and quiet in Crisp’s arms. He watched her breathing just so he was sure that she was. She didn’t deserve to be in the Quod and he doubted any of the others really did either. “Let them out.”

  Kristun started working on the lock. When he was done he swung the door open, but the dwife didn’t move. She still hadn’t moved by the time the rest of the doors on the main passage had been opened. The other prisoners came out into the open one by one, nodded their thanks, or pumped Kristun’s hand or slapped him on the back, before looking each way down the hall and heading the same direction as Rawk and his companions were. In a few seconds, the hall was quiet. Until the next rush came from the side passage, flooding past wordlessly.

  “They might clear the way a bit,” Fabi said when they had one too.

  “I hope they escape unharmed,” Rawk said. “They were not released to be a distraction.”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Come on.”

  There were more guards. Five came from the stairwell before Rawk reached it. Others were coming close behind.

  “Rawk?”

  Rawk slowed down, looking at the first of the men. He looked familiar.

  “Rawk? What are you doing here? Did you see..?” The guard seemed to see Rawk’s companions for the first time. He stopped.

  A moment later, an arrow whisked past Rawk’s ear from behind. It missed the leader and hit the next man in the chest. Rawk winced and shrugged and emptied his mind as the guards charged. Another died with an arrow in his throat, a fountain of blood splashing on the ground, audible, even over the rush of feet. Or maybe he just imagined it.

  Rawk blocked the first attack at the last moment and the man kept pressing forward. For a second, another two guards gave assistance and Rawk could barely keep up. But he didn’t panic. He fought, calm and focused, ignoring everything except the dance before him. Then Rake arrived, crashing into one of the guards, knocking him back into the rest. And Frew got the other’s attention with a cut across the arm.

  The leader’s blade flashed through the air and Rawk smiled as he flicked the attack aside.

  “What are you smiling at, traitor?”

  “Skill.”

  “And it makes you happy that you are about to die because of my skill?”

  “I never said I was smiling at your skill.” Rawk actually laughed then. He anticipated the next attack and had Kaj in the way almost before his opponent knew what he was doing. “It’s just nice to know that I’m not too old after all.” Rawk countered, drawing a line of blood. And he paused, staring at the blood.

  It struck him that it was real. He might not have been able to remember the man’s name, but he was someone that Rawk knew, someone that he occasionally interacted with, and now they were trying to kill each other.

  So much for focus.

  Rawk swayed back, letting the blade flash past his face. He pulled himself together as the other man gave a wordless shout and charged forward. Rawk blocked, stepped aside, pushed aside a swipe and ran him through.

  It was very real.

  “Leon.”

  “What?”

  Rawk shook his head and looked around. Frew was just finishing off the last man.

  “This was Leon,” Rawk said. He breathed.

  “You knew him.”

  “Sort of.”

  Kristun was starting to bandage a cut on Rake’s thigh. It was going to need stitches, sooner rather than later. Others were seeing to their own minor wounds. Rawk went to the top of the stairs with Fabi and kept watch.

  A few minutes later everyone else joined them and they started down towards the ground floor. The guard was no longer near the door, though if he had left on his own or with assistance was not obvious. Rawk kept moving forward, unsure what would happen if he stopped now. The storeroom was still empty, bricks waiting in the corner.

  One of the dwarves rushed forward to check out through the opening.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “So we just climb out then?” Frew asked.

  Rawk looked around, shrugged, and went out through the hole. He took Sylvia when she was carefully handed out to him and started to cross the street. The others followed close behind. Halfway across, Rawk froze when he heard a noise coming from the alley. Then Hobart stepped into the half-light. The dwarf nodded as he led his workers across to the wall. “Evening.”

  Rawk started breathing again and continued forward. He almost looked calm when he entered the shadows of the alley on the far side. He was sure there were no witnesses but still, there was no turning back now. No turning back.

  Thersday

  Rawk sat up. He’d been lying in bed for hours but wasn’t within miles of sleeping. A dwarf healer had stitched his leg and she’d also taken a look at his arm. Everything hurt. His whole life hurt.

  The door opened.

  “How long have you been here?” Travis asked.

  Rawk shrugged. “Does it matter? What time is it?”

  “An hour after dawn. Were you out with Celeste and Grint? They didn’t sing last night.”

  “Were they supposed to? I didn’t even think we would be open.”

  “Yes. I had to pull a performer in off the street.”

  “You did not.”

  “I did. Well, Ferran was on the front porch, and that’s close enough to the street.”

  “Close enough.”

  “So, do we fire them?”

  Rawk raised an eyebrow. “Celeste and Grint? You’re kidding? They get a lot more leeway than that.”

  Travis grunted. “Are you having breakfast?”

  “No. I have to go see Weaver.”

  “About Sylvia?”

  “Of course.”

  When he stood up, Rawk realized he was still wearing the black breaches and old boots he’d worn on the rescue mission the night before. If Travis notice
d anything, which of course he did, then he didn’t say. Rawk stripped off and headed for the shower in next room. He was pushing past the heavy tapestry that hid the doorway, wincing at the pain in his arm, when Travis spoke again.

  “I spoke to Natan last night.”

  Rawk paused.

  “I asked him what he does for money.”

  Rawk didn’t say anything.

  “He didn’t answer again.”

  “He works for Weaver.”

  “He does? How do you know? Doing what?”

  “I saw him in the palace yesterday. And he didn’t really say. He certainly didn’t admit to being a spence.”

  “So he could do anything. Weaver hires all sorts of people. Weaver hates magic.”

  Rawk nodded. He looked up at the priceless tapestry that hid the doorway. He hadn’t known it was priceless when he put it there. “Take this thing down,” he said. “Move it down to the office.” And he slipped through into the hallway. A minute he was examining the shower and wondering how he could use it without getting all of his bandages wet. He took a washcloth, held it under the warm water, and used it to wipe the sweat and grime from his body. It wasn’t the same at all.

  -O-

  Rawk sat in Weaver’s private study. He avoided his usual hard chair and sat in one of the overstuffed couches. The prince kept him waiting for almost half an hour. Eventually the door opened and Weaver strode in.

  “It’s about time,” Rawk said, rising to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Weaver asked. He was dressed in a chain mail shirt and had leather gloves tucked into his belt.

  “To see Sylvia, obviously.” He looked the prince up and down. “Why in Path’s name are you dressed like that?”

  “Surely you know. Sylvia escaped, Rawk.”

  “What? When?”

  “Last night.”

  “She escaped from the Quod?”

  “No, I had her moved to the Giddy Sailor at midnight. The barman couldn’t hold her though.”

  “Well...”

  “It means war, Rawk.”

  “What do you mean? One elf escaping is not an act of war.”

  “It’s not one elf; it’s Silver Lark. And she couldn’t have done it on her own. She must have had help.”

  “Who says?”

  “She was wearing coran chains, remember? Someone must have released her.”

  Rawk looked confused. “So who are you declaring war on exactly?”

  “The dwarves, of course.”

  “Which dwarves?”

  “All of them.”

  Rawk swallowed. He knew Weaver was crazy but... “All of them? You can’t just...”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “You’re going to kill all the dwarves?”

  Weaver’s lip twitched. “Maybe not all of them. But enough that the rest will learn their lesson.”

  “You can’t...” Rawk tried to think of something to say. He’d had a conversation something like this a couple of days ago. “Who’ll finish your damn canal?”

  “I will.”

  “You will?” Rawk almost laughed but managed to control himself.

  “It was my idea to begin with, Rawk. I’m sure I can work out the details.”

  “And the sewers? And... who’ll light the street lamps at night? Who’ll collect your rubbish? If the dwarves stop working the city will fall apart in a few days.”

  “Rubbish.” Weaver seemed to enjoy his pun. He paused for a moment to smile. “You’ve been talking to too many dwarves, Rawk. They are not important at all. There are more than enough humans to do the work.”

  Rawk doubted there were enough people at all, even if they were all willing to do the work that the dwarves did. Even if they were capable of it. “So, you’re declaring war on the south of the river?”

  Weaver nodded. “They will learn not to defy me.”

  “Or they will learn to hate you. Because not all of them did defy you. Let’s assume the dwarves did help Sylvia escape. How may do you think were involved? Ten? Twenty? The rest have no idea what happened.”

  “Are you on their side, Rawk?”

  “Of course not. I’m on Katamood’s side. And Katamood needs dwarves.”

  “I’m going to replace Thacker and all of his followers. I’ve been letting him get away with too much for too long.”

  “Doesn’t he collect your taxes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what else does he do?”

  “I’m not sure. And that’s the problem. None of my people know what the dwarves do. They pay their taxes, so nobody has ever bothered to find out.”

  “Well...”

  “I am assembling the City Guard. And I’ve been bringing mercenaries into the city for a few weeks. I have nearly five thousand men ready to fight for me.”

  “Mercenaries? Five thousand of them?”

  “Yes. I knew there was trouble brewing. With these portals opening everywhere and the riots.”

  “You know they are unrelated, right?”

  “What?”

  “The south isn’t rioting because of the portals. They’re rioting because you knocked down a huge swathe of houses and businesses when you built the canal and didn’t do anything to replace them.”

  “No, they aren’t. Who told you that? If there aren’t enough houses they can just go somewhere else. Nobody’s stopping them.”

  Rawk grunted. He was starting to wonder if Weaver believed his own stories. He’d heard of men that had two personalities, like two separate people living in the same body, each doing things that the other knew nothing about.

  “Will you help me, Rawk? If things keep going the way they are, Celeste and Grint will soon think themselves too important to work for you, you know. They have to be kept in their place.”

  “You may be right.” Rawk nodded slowly. “What about magic though?”

  “What about it?”

  “Well, Sylvia has escaped. And there may be other sorcerers we don’t know about.”

  Weaver smiled. “I’ve got that under control. I don’t just have mercenaries.”

  “You’ve brought in sorcerers? Isn’t that against the law?”

  “I’m the Prince; I can do whatever I like.” He smiled. “So, will you help me or not?”

  Rawk looked himself up and down. “Let me go back to the Hero’s Rest. I need my mail and... some other things.”

  “Excellent.” The prince clapped Rawk on the back. “Oh, this is just like old times, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Rawk agreed. “I can hardly tell the difference.” He left the office and hurried through the palace with two guards shadowing him.

  -O-

  Rawk stopped in the storage room and looked around. He knew there were mail shirts in there somewhere. He just couldn’t remember where, exactly, and he couldn’t remember if they were useable or merely decorative. He suspected it would be the latter. After a couple of minutes he found a pile of shirts. The second one was serviceable. But he couldn’t think straight. He stood where he was, heavy mail shirt held up before him, and just stared.

  “What’s going on?” Celeste was standing in the doorway. She was looking at the shirt as well, as if trying to work out why it was so interesting.

  “Who else is here?”

  “Juskin and Grint.”

  Rawk nodded. “You have to get out of here. All of you. Is Biki working today?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, find out. You have to get to the other side of the river as quickly as possible.”

  Juskin came to stand by Celeste’s side. His shock of hair was even worse than usual. “Why? What is happening?”

  “Weaver is about to start a war.”

  “Against the south? Then surely we would be safer here?”

  Rawk took a deep breath. “You will only be safe here until Weaver works out I’m not on his side. Then anyone who is a friend of mine will be in danger.”

  “You will fight against the pri
nce?”

  “I don’t see that I have any choice.” He looked at the book in Celeste’s hand. “Get all the books and hide them in this room, then leave. All of you.”

  They hesitated, then went into the office and started to collect the books.

  “What’s happening?”

  Rawk almost jumped. He turned to see Travis standing in the door behind him. He looked him up and down. “Nothing. Nothing.”

  “What’s with the mail shirt then? It’s been years since you wore one of those.”

  “I know...” He cleared his throat. “Sylvia escaped from the Quod last night. Weaver is going to get her back, no matter what it takes.”

  Travis nodded. “If the dwarves helped her then they won’t just give her up.”

  “It could get messy. I think we might need to close down for a couple of days. Barricade the doors and all that kind of thing.”

  “The trouble won’t reach here. Weaver will send some of the Guard across the river and...”

  “I know. Just in case though.”

  “Very well.”

  “Get all the customers out then hire some men.”

  “What about your Heroes?”

  “They’ll probably be busy.”

  “All right.”

  “I’m going to lock up down here. I don’t want anyone coming in.”

  Travis looked a bit confused, but nodded.

  “Go and start organizing things. We might not have much time.”

  When Travis had left, Celeste came from the office carrying a pile of books. “You don’t want Travis to know?”

  Rawk shrugged, uncomfortable. “He doesn’t like dwarves much. And he does like Natan.”

  “He likes you though.”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure if that’s enough.” He wasn’t sure of anything any more. It wasn’t like the good old days at all. Back then, he knew everything there was to know. If he didn’t then it wasn’t worth knowing. Now? Shaking his head he pulled off his shirt then tried to find a gambeson amongst the clutter so he could don the mail. There was one somewhere, he was sure. “Get those books hidden then get out of here. Stick together, and send a message to Thacker so I know where you are.”