01 - The Price of Talent (7 page)

              “Uhm… uh… Sapphire?” I stammered out.

              “Yes kid?” She said without looking at me.

              “Where do I get pillows and blankets?” I asked.

              “There’s a storage closet right over there. It’s got some wool blankets and pillow cases in it. We don’t have any goose down or any of that crap you may be used to. But you can stuff a pillow case with some straw. I suggest putting a layer of wool between it and your pillow case. In fact, use two pillow cases, it keeps the straw from poking you at night.”

              “Uh… Thanks!” I said.

              “Just let me eat my sandwich in peace and you will have thanked me enough.” She said.

              Not sure how to take that remark, I went and grabbed the stuff I needed from the closet. Then I went back to my room and tried to make the best of things. It took me some time, but I got the pillow to a point where I could actually put my head on it and be comfortable. But considering that I had first been expecting to sleep in a tent on the cold ground outdoors, I figured I had no right to complain.

              Wandering back out to the common room I saw that everyone was tucking in to some food. I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do, but I was also very hungry.

              “Anyone mind if I eat something?” I asked.

              “Grab some food and chow down kid.” Said Sapphire. “You’re staying here, so it would be rude for us to starve you.”

              “Uhm… Thanks!” I said lamely.

              Fortunately, there was plenty of food left on the counter in the kitchen area. I grabbed a small loaf of bread, some dried meat and cheese and a little butter to make myself a sandwich. Then I grabbed a mug, ladled myself some fresh water from the clean water barrel and sat down at the unoccupied end of one of the two parallel tables. Ross then came over and sat down across from me.

              “Hey Tyr, you said earlier that you lived on your parents’ farm right?”

              With the echoes of my sword’s warning in my ear I managed to say: “Uh, yeah. I helped my dad out doing chores around the farm. Why?”

              “Well, as Sapphire no doubt told you, we all chip in around here. And since you have some experience with it, we figured the easiest thing to start you on tomorrow would be helping Moira with the farming.”

              “Who’s Moira?” I asked.

              “She’s the brown haired lady sitting over there” Ross said while gesturing at the other table. “She’s in charge of hunting and farming. I think she’s one of the few people here you haven’t met yet. She doesn’t typically go on raids, she’s too useful in procuring food for us.”

              Noticing we were talking about her she replied: “And given the way you lot eat, I’m surprised we ever have enough put away for winter.”

              “Saving lives is hungry work Moira.” Said Ross with a smile. “Besides, the best appreciation of your abilities is to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

              “Maybe you should eat more fruits and less of the game. It’s easier to get and better for you. I spend far too much time hunting for you lot to eat it all so quickly.”

              Turning back to me, Ross said: “She’s a little prickly, but we wouldn’t get by without her. Also, she could really use the help. With you helping with the farm work, it frees her up to hunt more.”

              “OK” I replied. “If you think I can help, I can pitch in.”

              “Thanks Tyr, the others will warm up to you if they see you pitching in,” said Ross.

              And with that, he cleared off to check on the boss and I was left in peace to eat my sandwich.

As I was finishing up Sapphire walked by. “You clear your own dishes kid. After that, you might want to get some sleep. You had a long night and tomorrow, when you have rested up, Moira will have a lot of work for you to do.”

Chapter 6.

              Sapphire had not been kidding, Moira had a lot of things for me to do. I woke up the next day and found that everybody was already up and eating breakfast. It’s likely the clanking of dishes was what woke me in the first place.

              Upon getting up and getting dressed, I headed out to the kitchen area in the longhouse and grabbed a plate of some sliced cured meat, sliced cheese, bread and fruit. I had hardly finished before Moira approached me.

              “Finish up kid, there is a lot to do. The chickens need feeding, the grain needs weeding, cows and goats need milking and anything else I can think of.”

              “Uh… Can’t I just risk my life robbing people with the others?” I asked with a grin.

              “No kid, you’re not getting off that easy,” she replied. I wasn’t sure she realized I was joking.

              The morning went much like most of my morning back at the farm with my parents. The obvious comparison left me choked up at times. Working with your hands gives you a lot of time to think about things, especially when the tasks you are doing are fairly familiar to you. And while I didn’t know where everything was, milking a cow on one farm is much like milking a cow on another.

              Moira was an interesting person. She was a bit brusque in her manner, but that is not uncommon among farmers going about their tasks. The reality is that there is always something to do on a farm and the terseness of speech is less about being rude and more about not having the time for chit chat.

              At lunch time, Moira approached me and said: “Thanks kid, we got most of the chores accomplished this morning. Normally that would have taken me most of the day. We’re going to stop here for lunch, then afterwards I want you weed the grain and vegetable rows. I’m going to go hunting to try and add to our cold cellar. Think you can manage on your own?”

              “Yes. But do you need any help hunting? Sounds like more fun than weeding.”

              “Kid, you ever been hunting before? Can you shoot a bow with any accuracy? Can you walk through the forest without making any noise?”

              “Um… I’ve never tried it before, honestly.” I was forced to reply.

              “That’s what I thought. If you want, after dinner while the light still holds, I’ll take you to the targets and start teaching you how to shoot a bow. But it’s going to take a lot of practice on your part before I am going to be willing to take you hunting. Right now, you’ll probably just scare away the game and shoot yourself in the foot.”

              And with that she walked back to the hall to wash up for lunch. With nothing else to do, I did as well.

              Lunch was similar to breakfast, except there were fewer people there, what with half the people having headed out to the next ambush site looking for tax collectors and merchants to waylay. Moira didn’t say two words to me while she was eating.

It was only after she was done that she said: “You just do the weeding and if you have time man the irrigation pumps to water the crops. I will be back before dinner, and if I have game, I will teach you how to butcher an animal. If not, I will begin to teach you how to shoot.”

And with that, I was left on my own to take care of my assigned tasks. The afternoon sun was out, if obscured by clouds, and the temperature was mild. All in all, it was not bad weather to be outside. My chores took me less time than I thought. I should have realized that a farm designed to feed a handful of people would have smaller fields than my parent’s farm where most of the food was sold at the town market to merchants heading for the larger settlements and big cities.

The afternoon passed quickly and evening soon arrived. Moira returned with a deer on a litter and a couple of rabbits. There was enough time before dinner for her to show me how to kill, skin, and gut the animals, a process I found mildly disturbing. You would think growing up on a farm I would have seen this before, but the reality was that we brought our animals to market alive; mostly because when they are alive, they walk themselves there. What little butchering we did onsite was usually small game birds and chickens that would no longer lay eggs. Nothing that required skinning. Small distinction in hindsight, still it did make a difference to me for some reason.

This experience almost put me off my dinner. Almost. A day of labor in the field gives you a powerful hunger, which will quickly overcome any squeamishness you are experiencing as a result of watching a deer get skinned.

The evening’s archery lesson went a little better. The basics of shooting an arrow are pretty straightforward, and we were standing barely 25 yards from the target. Moira showed me how to stand, how to pull the string to be near, but not touching my cheek and how to properly sight down an arrow. I even managed to hit the target a few times before the light gave out. Moira, on the other hand, rarely missed the bullseye, and when she did, it was because she was telling me what to do and not concentrating as hard on her shots. It also taught me why I was farming and not with the others waiting to waylay rich travelers. If I could barely hit a stationary target at 25 yards, I would be worthless hitting a moving target at further distance.

Over the course of the next week, my days followed much this same pattern. I would grab a quick breakfast, spend the morning and afternoon minding the farm work, and then in the evenings get lessons on properly butchering a kill and meat preservation techniques. If there was still time after that, we would spend it shooting targets with the practice bow and arrows until the sun gave out.

It was these late evenings that I enjoyed the most. Then most people gathered around the hearth, drank a few mugs of the beer Ross and Sapphire brewed, and shared stories. I heard tales about robberies that went wrong, robberies that went right, stories from myth and legend. Ross was an especially good storyteller. I guess that as a former chaplain of the church, he had learned how to tell a good story. I was also surprised to learn that he knew how to brew beer. It didn’t seem like the kind of behavior priests usually engaged in.

“Kid, I could tell you all sorts of stories that would surprise you about the behaviors of priests, but that’s not really proper after dinner conversation. However, I will tell you this, there are whole monasteries that exist that support themselves by brewing beer. They brew beers at these monasteries that put our brew here to shame. Just think, tasting a beer that is the product of hundreds of years of refinement, brewed by monks whose faith in beer is only exceeded by their faith in God and the Holy Empire. The kind of beer that gives a man faith in the divine…”

It was quite a story, and I could see by his wistful expression that he had had the good fortune of tasting one or two of these fabled brews before.

At the end of the week, I was called away from just such a story by the Boss, or Devlin, as that was his real name. I had not seen him or heard from him since he was dragged back to the base from rescuing me. Apparently his convalescence was going well and he was now healthy enough to speak to me and decide my fate. I immediately found myself very nervous. While I was sure I had proven my value by freeing Moira up from farming to spend more time hunting in the forest, I was not sure if this was enough to prove my value to “The Boss”.

Chapter 7.

“Tyr, is it?” Asked Devlin.

“Uh… yes sir.” I responded.

              Devlin was sitting up in bed. He was wearing a light shirt and breaches covering his bandages. He seemed to be coming along fairly well. After all, it had only been a week since he had been wounded. Still, the whole situation had me very nervous. As far as I knew, my future hung in the balance of this little interview.

“Moira tells me you’ve been a real help on the farm which has allowed her to do more hunting. This is a good, as I have a real weakness for cured meats. Bacon for preference, but there are fewer wild pigs in the woods than deer.”

“Uh… yes sir.” What is it about authority figures that turns kids into gibbering idiots?

“OK, I can see you’re nervous. Let’s put things to rest first, I am not going to throw you out into the cold. What kind of host or leader would I be if I did that?”

“Oh thank god!” I stammered. I almost lost my feet with relief and had to pause to take a few deep breaths just to pull myself back together again.

“Ross tells me you’ve had quite an interesting past couple of months.” He said. “Something about you getting chased by inquisitors, losing your family and the like?”

“Uh… yes sir. It’s all been a bit of a blur honestly.”

“He also says you have quite the interesting blade.”

“Yes sir, it was found with me after my family farm was destroyed.”

“Can I see the sword?”

“Yes sir, I will have to go get it though.”

“I can wait, while I’m convalescing I’m not going very far anyway.”

“OK, I’ll be right back.” I said as I ran to my room to pick up my sword.

Oh, now you remember me.

Really? You want to do this now?

Oh, you mean the first time in a week that you have paid any attention to me? Yes, why would I choose to talk to YOU now? Maybe it’s because you are the only person I can talk to and you have been ignoring me all week?

I’m sorry we have not talked much recently, but I have had a lot of chores to do around here. I only just found out they aren’t going to throw me out of here.

Yes, I’m aware. Still, you could have made some time to spend with me. Here I am, sitting in the corner of your room, collecting dust while you go gallivanting about playing outlaw.

As I said, I’m sorry, but I really haven’t had much time. Even now I’m here because the Boss wants to see you.

Oh, I see, not interested in seeing me yourself, you’re only here because THE BOSS wants to see me.

Why is this such a big deal for you?

He asks with archery callouses on his hands. You have time enough to learn how to finger other weapons but not time enough to spend with your sword. I see how it is.

REALLY?! You’re jealous of my learning how to shoot?

I’m your weapon Tyr. ME. I play second fiddle to no one. You’re out shooting bull’s eyes and you still barely even know how to use a steak knife let alone proper swordsmanship.

No one has offered to teach me that yet. Moira was good enough to teach me to shoot because that is what she uses to go hunting and that is what they use when they rob tax collectors and the like.

Oh, of course! Why would a bandit need to know swordsmanship?

Something tells me that if things came to sword fighting the robbery has gone horribly wrong.

“Hey, Tyr, you get lost out there?” The Boss yelled down the hall from his room.

“Sorry, on my way,” I replied.

See, I have been gone too long. Are you going to cooperate?

Fine, but you owe me. First chance you get to learn proper swordsmanship, you jump on it.

              And with that I grabbed the sword by the scabbard and ran back to the Boss’s study.

“That took longer than I was anticipating,” said the Boss.

“Uh, yes sir. Sorry, it took longer to… uh… find it than I thought it would.”

“Would you mind letting me hold it for a bit?”

“Um… Nope.” I said, handing it to him.

              The Boss held the blade lightly by the handle and pulled it free from its sheath. He looked it over critically, eyeing the blade and point.

“This is an interesting blade son. Where did you say you found it?” He asked?

“It was found with me in the wreckage of my family’s farm.” I replied.

“What do you know about it?”

“Not much honestly. It’s longer and thinner than the swords I see you all were carrying with you when you rescued me.”

“I see… Well, that’s because we tend to use broadswords, and this is something else entirely. You see, a broad sword, or arming sword, is designed for cut and thrust close quarters combat. It is equally good at stabbing or hacking through armor. Hence the thicker blade. They are fairly common in this area of the world, so we have managed to pick up a few in our various enterprises. This, however, is a Spada or Espada, depending on where in the world you ask. It is thinner and longer for better reach and thrusts. It still has a useful blade though, so not totally useless for slashing. It is more of a dueling sword than one designed for military use,” he explained.

Not totally useless for slashing? I’ll show him, that bastard. I’m a better slasher than that slab sided, unwieldy, fat ass short sword he has in the corner there.

Really, now you’re bitching? I thought you wanted some attention? Now you’re getting it.

I’ll show him. I’ll cut that crappy pig iron poker in half.

“It’s a nice blade, if not generally used in these parts. Civilians are not typically allowed swords in the Empire, so dueling is out of the question. Guards tend to be ex-military and stick with the weapons they were trained with. I’m a little surprised at seeing one like this. I haven’t seen one since my military days…”

Oh yes, listen to the great general of the forest! I bet he has led many a deer into battle. Successful too no doubt. I’m sure he’s just living in the forest right now as a clever ruse to evade his many enemies carrying a grudge.

“Wait, you were in the military? Then how did you end up… Uh, here?” I asked. After all, while sarcastic, the sword did have a point. Maybe I should try and learn more of my saviors.

“Son, you will find that everyone here has a story. No one starts off as an outlaw. We all have stories similar to yours, where we end up on the wrong side of the Empire, usually through no fault of our own. Well, mostly through no fault of our own.”

“So, then, how did you end up here?”

“My story is long and tedious. Suffice it to say that, I was once a guard captain in a major city, but I fell for the wrong woman. When it was discovered I was stripped of my rank and exiled. Turning bandit was really the only option left to me. It was either that or die in the forest. And I’m not one for dying.”

Oh what a load of horse shit. This pantywaist was some great guard captain? Loved the wrong woman? Let’s hire a bard to write a play so that generations can enjoy the tale of the star crossed lover who turned to a life of crime!

“So, everyone has a story like yours?” I asked.

“Well, they all have their own stories of how they came here. No less dramatic than yours. I have been taking in these strays for years and we have been making a living off the land; and yes, merchants and tax collectors too. But this is the only life that is left to us. We are all wanted by the Empire, and are in danger from church authorities when we venture into cities or towns.”

“So, then, it is not so uncommon for you to take in refugees like me.”

“Hah, no, but it has been quite some time since we have. And rarely do we take in one quite so young. But then, it is rare for someone your age to get into quite as much trouble as you have.”

“Uh, speaking of, do you know why the Inquisitors were after me? Or is that a dumb question? Uh… Sorry if it’s a dumb question…”

“It’s not a dumb question. I think it’s a very important question, but it’s one I don’t have the answer to. The inquisitors were not very talkative after we shot them full of arrows.”

“Oh… Yeah… I suppose not.”

“But talk to Ross if you want to know more. He was a Chaplain before he found himself here, he may know more about the inner working of the Inquisitors.”

“Yeah… ok.”

“So, this sword was found with you at your parents’ farm?”

“Yeah.”

“The wreckage of your family farm.”

“Uh… Yeah.”

“And this is when you lost your family.”

“… Yeah…”

“So then, this was when you started being chased by the Inquisitors.”

“Uh… Sort of…”

“Sort of?”

“Well, they just sort of showed up out of nowhere, attacked us at the farm and then BOOM! I woke up in the Hospital. The sword was apparently found with me,” I said.

Oh good move moron, just tell him everything. You just got him to agree to keep you and now you go and remind of a very good reason NOT to let you live here. Namely that you were tracked down by the Inquisition, that the authorities have a very real interest in finding you. I hope you enjoy life as a hermit after he boots you out the door.

“Huh, so maybe the sword belonged to one of the Inquisitors who went to your farm. They do come from all over… Anyway, it’s not a sword from around here.”

“But, uh, do you know how to use that kind of sword?” I asked hoping to move the subject past my personal tragedy.

“Well, it has been many years, but yeah, I know how to use that type of sword.”

Now’s your chance moron! Ask him to train you how to use me. All is forgiven if you get him to teach you how to actually use me! You have no idea how boring it is sitting in a corner for a week. MAKE HIM TEACH YOU!

“So… Would you be able to teach me how to use it?” I asked.

“Well, you are already training on the bow and doing most of the farming, but when there is time, yeah I will teach you.”

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” I said practically dancing.

“Hey, kid, calm down. I’m not going to be able to do anything until I am done healing. And that’s going to take some time. In the meantime, I will ask Moira to instruct you on the basics. She’s much better with a bow mind you. Actually, she’s probably the best with a bow out of all of us. But she can teach you the basics of how to use a sword in addition to learning how to shoot a bow. By the time you know what you are doing I should be well enough to teach you the finer points of how to use your Espada.”

“Oh wow, thanks!”

“Well, wait to thank me till after Moira is done with you…”