045 – The Mage Who Cried INVADER

The next morning, Caspian started out as soon as he was packed. Steven had to hurry to follow. Abey was a bit perplexed, as she had returned to their camp after Caspian and Steven had gone to bed. Abey tied Miri to a cart and marched ahead with Steven, soon catching up to Caspian. Caspian was going faster than he normally went, and Cyrril was clutching to his shoulder, looking forward.

This side of the city of Veradale was walled around its perimeter, except where new construction was happening. Towers of stone demarked distance and corners along the outer walls. The color of the stone was mostly a gray-white, but a few streaks of other color dashed through it. Steven was impressed with how tall the structures were further north; here he could see where work crews were removing the soil to the bedrock. On exposed bedrock they were carving directly into the stone. Instead of quarrying, they were sculpting the rock. The removed rock was carved out, shaped, stacked and locked into the structure; it only moved far enough to go from where the passage would go to the wall of said passage. Or it was taken further out and added to the buildings or bridges between them, covering the area before the hills on the small part of the plains the city encroached on. The word ‘arcology’ came to mind as Steven tried to unify the architectural design style to an approximate analog to his own experience. He recognized elements used by Greek, Roman, Gothic, and a handful of other styles in a uniform style that he just could not put a word to, except maybe ‘local.’ The road led up to the middle of the city wall and a gate there.

The Gate had a small built out tower on either side with arrow slits at the ground floor, and crenellated barbican on the top three floors above. Heavy looking wooden doors opened out from the wall. The Guards manning the gate were in maile hauberks over red tunics, each with either a mace or spear at hand. A clerk was also there with a hand-desk recording the traffic.

Caspian approached the clerk, presuming her to be the best place to start. “Ma’am. Who do I need to talk to, to warn of an approaching threat?”

She looked up from finishing her notes about the wagon that had just entered. She looked Caspian’s road-dirty appearance over, noted his staff and Cyrril. Then she looked back to her notes, with mild irritation at being interrupted. “Tell the constables. Do you have any goods or materials to declare?”

Caspian tried again. “Yes, that there is a wagon train coming in from the next road east that I think is actually an attacking army.”

Steven noticed that all the half dozen or so guards around perked up, and looked at each other, but otherwise did not react.

The clerk continued. “Tell it to the constables. If you don’t have any cargo to declare the entrance fee is one copper per person in your party. Drop it in the box and be on your way.”

Cyrril sat up on Caspian’s shoulder. “Fine, where do I find the constables?”

“Get in a fight. Pay the box, move along. You are backing up traffic.”

Steven and Abey looked around. The closest traffic was a wagon coming out the other direction. Steven noticed that the shadow of a portcullis played across the wagon as it rolled through the gate.

Caspian looked around and surveyed the guards. One with an armband the others did not have was standing near by, and all the others looked at him. Caspian turned and stepped to him.

Before Caspian could speak, he motioned with his mace to the box on a short podium. “Pay the fee and move along. Keep the road clear, and don’t go spreading rumors.”

This frustrated Caspian further. He looked the guards here over. They proverbially closed ranks as they all stood, armed, and looking at Caspian, and Steven and Abey.

Steven simply kept his one hand on his crossbow strap and the other at his side. Abey simply got two coppers from her belt and took Steven’s arm and walked in, dropping her coins as she went past the box.

Cyrril was fanning and hissing at the guards, from Caspian’s shoulder. Finally Caspian also dug out a coin slapped it into the box and caught up with Abey and Steven.

“What now?” Abey asked, as she watched the world around her.

Steven noticed she was dressed not for travel; she wore her leather tunic and belt, her trousers, fingerless gauntlets, boots, and every knife she owned, and it looked like a few that were borrowed. Somewhere she had borrowed a short sword that hung at her left hip.

Caspian started into the city proper. “If I can’t find a constable that will take me seriously, I will go look for that other company by myself. I just hope I do not end up in jail for this.”

For his part, Steven was not in full kit. He had left his coat and bag where Abey left her stuff, on the wagon that Miri was tied to. He had his poncho on, with his cloak over that, his crossbow across his back outside the cloak, and his sword at his hip. His red flannel shirt would have stuck out badly, so he wore a dun colored local shirt he had picked up. As always he had his booney hat on.

Caspian stomped off into the city, looking for a constable. He did not have to go far, but these played as dumb as the guards did. So Caspian asked which way to the gate for the road the other caravan was to come in on. Once he knew that, he stomped in that direction.

Steven’s proverbial antennas were pricked, as he followed Caspian. He noticed that the City Guard was out in force. Also the gaze of the locals hanging on his sword and crossbow, their being notable but not unremarkable, compared to most of the people not conspicuously carrying weapons.

They got to the other outer gate, and Caspian turned aside into an alley the block before the gate and wall. Here he grabbed them, muttered a spell and leapt up about twenty five meters by Steven’s estimation, to land on the parapet of the structure there. To Steven’s surprise it was a porch, with a bridge that crossed to every adjoining building, and an entrance to the one they stood on.

Caspian let go and strode over to where he could look out at the road in the valley and farmland beyond. Steven followed and pulled his binoculars from their pouch. He looked down the road, and soon saw a caravan.

“I see what I think is them. I guess they are less than half an hour out.” Steven put the glasses down. Then turned and looked over the city with them. For a moment, he thought he should see trebuchet’s mounted on towers, and an old man in a white cloak riding a white horse without a saddle or bridle up and down the stairs shouting battle orders. He did see a few trebuchets, catapults and ballista about the walls, but only what he what he would call a light defensive array, with room for significantly more. Turning from those positions on the wall below he was able to identify likely positions on the city about him, and realized that this city properly equipped would be a terror to lay siege to.

“Well,” Steven started. “I will say this. While this city is not on an apparent war footing, an army would have to move really fast in order to get through the land of this kingdom, before the city could fortify itself.”

Abey was awed by the city, never having been here before, but Steven noticed her attitude seemed to mostly be that she was along for the ride, waiting for the excitement to happen.

As Steven looked around, he looked south, and saw The Wolves caravan. “I can see the Wolves entering the city now, but I do not see any walkers. Looks like most are on the wagons, on top of the cargos, or the roofs of the domestic ones, and I guess the rest are inside or on them. Can’t see much more than that from here.”

They stayed and watched as the caravan that bothered them moved into the gates, and was passed through. It rolled past under the bridge they stood on. As Steven watched, he felt like he was also being watched. But every time he looked around, all he could see were locals going about their business. He could spot the city guard in their helmets and chainmail coats over red tunics. The constables looked like the guard, but with a red tabard over a mail shirt. As Steven watched he saw a few more reds show up here and there, but not near the road this caravan traveled.

The caravan rolled along the street below them for several blocks, then the road came to an intersection at the base of the hill, and the caravan turned right. Steven counted thirty four wagons. As he mentioned this to Caspian, he commented that he had counted six men per wagon at the camp. This gave them about two hundred men; not enough to attack the city, but enough to sneak in and maybe seize some critical area, and get out alive, or even take the throne and assert power, or chaos, long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

As the tail of the caravan disappeared, Caspian turned to follow it. Steven heard something below, and turned to see the city gates closing, and a portcullis swing down to back the doors. The crowds that had been around the gate and supporting area disbursed to elsewhere. Caspian ran off parallel to the caravan’s course, and at the next block he again saw the tail. Steven and Abey followed several dozen meters behind. Caspian turned a corner to get closer charging along the balconies and bridges contiguous to this level of the city, matching the streets on the ground below.

Steven followed Caspian, deeper into the city. He was alternately impressed with the construction and amount of light there was, and doing his best to keep up with the mage running through it. Abey kept pace with Steven, though also visibly beginning to break a sweat.

The disturbing caravan disbursed across the city as it went. Here the three of them saw two wagons going a different direction; there two more took a different road. The main group continued, heading generally north and up in the city. The caravan had climbed to the same level the three were on by the time the main group was seen again. Caspian looked around and again grabbed Steven and Abey and used magic to leap up two more levels in the city. This got them nasty looks from some pedestrians as they almost landed on them.

They trotted across the level they were on, to a point where they could look over and down the two levels to the market square below them. Steven noticed that the levels were not uniform in how filled out they were. To the side of the market was a light well down to the ground. Beside and above them was a vault set for a roadway on the level above where the three stood.

Twenty wagons entered the market, fourteen maneuvered to park and ‘set up.’ Six clustered at the entrance end, the other eight took spots further up the market and two actually on the road out. The last six continued on from this market.

Caspian was torn. “Wonderful. Do we follow, or do we stay?”

Abey beat Steven to the mark. “What tactics are you thinking of?”

“Capture the leader, and with any luck the locals will finally listen.” Caspian watched the wagons.

046 – Size Up The Locals, Size Up The Invaders

Abey brightened. “That is easy then. Steven, using your glasses, find the one man among the caravan who looks different or more aristocratic than the rest. I remember that there was one who insisted on wearing a different cloak than the rest.”

“Right.” Steven got his binoculars and started scanning. “Among about a hundred thirty men below us, find the tall man with one red shoe.”

Abey had grown used to Steven’s non sequiturs, and let this pass.

First Steven looked over the last of the leaving wagons. But they were too far and turned another corner before he could get a good look. Then he scanned the group below, wagon by wagon. In the middle of the group, Steven counted seven men around a wagon, with five ‘busy’ while two stood and watched. All the other wagons had everybody ‘busy.’

“I think I found him. Sixth wagon from the left, seven men around it, five busy.”

As Caspian tossed Cyrril out to have a look, Abey looked around.

“Where are we?” Abey turned Steven around. “You are a military man. What would you attack here? Why are we here?”

Steven looked the place over. For all of the stone work, and not being near the edge, it all looked the same to Steven, initially. Then he began to see the signs. Coats of arms that way, large structures without low windows toward the interior, several visible streets with the same symbol hung under lamps as far as could be seen on the street, a different symbol for each street. This took about ten minuets. Caspian was standing watching, and doing nothing in that time, Cyrril was somewhere below.

“I don’t recognize the symbols, but this appears to be a place of commerce. Definitely a good place to start, if you want to cause chaos.” Steven turned back. In time to see several of the carts blow up.

They did not blow up big, or destructively, just very smoky. Steven would later compare it to a giant flash-bang stun grenade, with a giant smoke grenade. Booms echoed from other parts of the city. A thick white smoke quickly filled the square, and started drifting on the air currents. Some went up, some down, and the rest along the level the carts had been on.

Steven had unconsciously counted a dozen red uniforms visible in proximity to the square. Bowmen from within the cloud quickly shot all the red uniforms that could be seen.

Steven watched the smoke spread and eight men in red go down by the archers. “Well, this is going to be a mess.”

Steven pulled his cross bow off his back and then pulled hard on the charging handle. From the bag on his right hip he pulled a bolt, and notched it in place. He was about to shoulder it and look for a target when Caspian returned to them.

“This is going to take a bit of time, to get that man away from his cohort. To do that we are going to need to move quickly, independently. I am going to put some spells on you. They will only last a short time, but it should be long enough for this battle.”

Steven did not think to argue, and Abey was not given time to form any.

First Caspian cast a spell on them that made them feel a bit tingly. “That should make you durable enough.”

Then he cast a spell on Steven’s boots. Caspian finished, and frowned. “That should have worked,” he muttered.

He repeated the spell on Abey’s boots. “That took fine.”

He tried again on Steven’s and frowned. “Fine if not the boots, then the socks.”

This time Steven felt his feet get lighter.

Caspian put the spell on his own boots. Then explained. “I have just cast a spell on your footwear to allow you to safely jump the distances around here, up, down and across. I also put a spell on your bodies that should keep you unharmed should you miss or fumble, as well as decide to jump all the way down. But it is on your body, not your equipment, so be careful. This spell will last about a half hour. Don’t jump up into a roof.”

Abey looked over the edge, slipping into hunter-role. “It looks like they are moving out, up the road that the others went. You say these spells will let us jump about, the way you got us up here?”

Caspian nodded. “Yes.” He got onto the balcony and then leapt for the roof on the next level down.

His cloak caught the air and billowed, then collapsed to a streamer behind him as he fell. Steven looked at Abey, and took a breath and leapt after Caspian, holding his crossbow high with his right hand, using his left to balance. Abey followed. They landed slower and lighter than expected, and trotted along the flat edge of the roof up the street in the direction the other wagons had gone. They came to the edge of this level and leapt down to the roof tops of the level the wagon had been on.

Steven noticed that there were no red shirts around. Later he would remember the irony of that color, at least from his cultural literary perspective. For now that color only meant local law enforcement; none were in evidence. Through the smoke, Steven could see two columns of men in dark uniforms trotting up the road, in clusters of three: one had a long bow, one a short bow and one a sword or other melee weapon. Steven stopped and knelt, drawing a bead with his crossbow on a man holding a longbow at half ready, fifty feet away.

The noise of the crossbow discharging was louder than Steven liked, but it was quieter than any firearm. His sniper training had been reawakening to a drowsy level as he hunted on his way here. Now as he knelt and drew a bead on a man where his shoulder and neck joined, and the armor opened, his skills at killing came to the fore, and as soon as the bolt was on its way, he pulled back and was moving away behind this roof’s edge as quietly and as low as he could.

Abey and Caspian had sense enough that they had moved away as Steven had knelt.

Steven expected a clatter of gun fire and rounds hitting the stones of the building to respond to his efforts. These bowmen did not even send one shaft in his direction. Steven considered this; either they were well trained not to shoot without a target, or he had the jump on then so well they were not yet aware of his presence and activity. He just had to be careful not to press his luck.

Ahead, the road opened into another larger intersection. Locals were crouched on the roofs and balconies here. A constable, red tunic over armor, was crouched among the five darkly dressed people on the balcony on this side as Caspian leapt the road, and almost got attacked for his efforts. The smoke was mostly thin wisps here, with the front of the column below in view coming up the block, and in range of the archers. Abey followed at an angle to Caspian, and landed a bit further from the intersection, and stopped after she landed. Steven followed and landed near her.

They crouched and moved over to where the crouching constable had Caspian on his back with a sword to his neck. Steven came up.

“I just shot one of the longbow men. Let him up, if you please. We just arrived this morning, ahead of The Mountain Wolves, after traveling with them the last few days.” Steven said this as a way of introduction.

Steven pulled on the charging handle on his cross bow. “The bad guys are walking up the road in two columns, one on either side, just clear of the over hangs, groups of three, longbow man, short bow man, and one with a sword, or some other hand weapon. There were fourteen wagons parked back there, six more came in this direction. By our count, there are six men per wagon, with some carrying a seventh, getting to about two hundred men coming this way. We figure the overall leader is in this group coming in this direction.”

Steven had put a new bolt into the crossbow, always keeping the weapon pointed out at the street.

The constable took this in, and finally spoke. “Who’s hired you?”

Steven thought he caught the immediate undercurrent. “No one. My wife was kidnapped and sold as a slave. With the wizard, I have tracked her probably here. As we came, we crossed that dark shirted caravan’s path, something seamed wrong with them. Two days later we encountered the Wolves. The rest is as I said.”

The constable considered, as the first clusters of the enemy approached. The wizard was being still, not even trying to resist. They had the wrong costume, for invaders. Those below wore the uniform of the kingdom directly south. He had not been warned of any other infiltrators, and the report said no wizards and no women were among them.

Abey kept herself aside, but taking everything in.

Finally the requirements of the moment took over the situation. The constable let go of the wizard, and turned back to his militia squad. The story was so unlikely that it was most likely true. As it was, his orders were to take down as many of the enemy as his militia men could, without getting them killed if possible. No prisoners and no pursuit.

Steven moved toward the edge, looking back down the street. The first group was almost before them. The bowmen on the street were looking over the roofs on the other side of the road from them. All of the bowmen had arrows knocked, some at part pull.

Steven looked about, as he pulled back from the edge. He could see that there were militia men on roofs or crouched on the balconies around them, a few constables or guardsmen with them. Steven wondered whether this group could put up a fight against regulars. Then he put this aside, and took up the crossbow ready to draw a bead. He waited for a bit, and then turned to look at the constable, watching to see if he had some kind of signal to give.

The militia were all armed with crossbows, and taking aim. The constable had a short bow ready. Steven saw that all of them were well back from the edge. Then a flight of arrows and crossbow bolts flew from the other side of the street. This side released immediately after.

Steven turned to his weapon, and looked for a target. Quickly he found a target and fired. The man fell as Steven’s bolt impaled in his neck. Steven pulled back, and turned. As a sniper he was almost never this close to a fight. Neither was he used to a fight as slow as crossbows required. The bowmen who were still standing were already pulling bowstrings and aiming at targets. The militia men were already ducking away, behind the stonework of the balcony.

Steven got up to a crouch and moved along the balcony. Abey followed as he passed. Caspian also got up and followed. Steven stopped at the constable. The man was trying to help a boy with a crossbow.

Steven watched as the man pulled the boys bow string to place. Then asked a question.

“What’s up this road?” This question was the final straw removing any doubt as to whether Steven was a local in any measure.

The constable turned to Steven. “Eventually, The Palace. If you don’t know that, you are not from any where around here.”

Steven stated the militarily obvious. “I expect that is their target.”

The constable gave Steven a ‘no kidding’ look, but Steven had already turned away. Steven went to the end of the block with Caspian and Abey following, and then he looked over the balcony edge and almost caught an arrow in his face for his troubles as he pulled back into a crouch behind the balcony wall. His observation skills were already returning.

047 – Orient To The Enemies Activities

 “Half of the group is on each side of the street, under the balconies. It looks like the leader is on our side, somewhere.” Steven took the moment to pull the charging handle on his crossbow, and then put a bolt into it.

Steven then continued his crouched movement down the side road and when he felt he was far enough from the intersection, he stood up and leapt across the street. Steven landed on this balcony, and continued through the middle of the block. In the middle he turned to his left to go through that alley to get a look at the market. He noticed that this level had a balcony around its outer level that looked down to the road below. There were regular pillars around that supported a vaulted ceiling above, making this level about half way between the road directly below and the next road level above. The buildings were evidently built with some regard for structure, but otherwise looked like any city block, store fronts and hole-in-the-wall shops, alleys, and back doors, and a second floor above and in some places a third that went up to the vault that supported the next level of city.

Steven took cover beside a support pillar, and looked out into the street, crossbow leading, as he had once learned to do with a battle rifle. He quickly found a target and aim point, and let fly. Then he backed up around the pillar and back into the shadow of the alley. Caspian and Abey were waiting. Abey was bouncing her hands together, in a manor that reminded of when she had been at the pit in the village, waiting to go in.

As Steven pulled on the charging handle to reload he spoke. “Three down. It looks like they are going to come in this direction. If my guess is right, they will either partly split and try to clear this level, or just make a run for it.”

Caspian, for all his skill that he had developed in personal fights, was out of his depth in an urban battle. Abey was just tagging along, and staying out of the way, for now. She asked the useful question.

“So, what do we do?”

Steven turned back to look around the alley corner at the intersection. He watched an exchange of volleys and saw the leader and a handful of men come in his direction. He turned back to Abey.

“These locals are doing alright, but most of the army is going to get out of the intersection. That may be the plan. Either way, if we can get the leader, we can hopefully diffuse this part of the fight. Presuming their command structure and training is only to fight as far as he is and will.” Steven turned back to look around the corner. He could see most of the other side of the street, and some of this.

“I need to see what is happening on this side. Is there any kind of offensive magic you can use?” Steven asked this to Caspian as he looked for a place to cross, whether to leap or a bridge.

“I could, but most of it is either close in and personal, or really flashy and not much good in a closed battle field. I can move us around, and do some shielding, but I’m afraid I am better in a brawl.” Caspian had been racking his mind for ideas on what he could do to help, and aside from shields and movement, could not think of much that would not also do significant property damage.

Steven spotted a bridge that looked to be at the far end of this block, going in the direction they had been. That might be enough.

“Alright, come on. We are going to that bridge to see if we can get a better look.” Steven took off back into the alley to the center of the block, turned left and went to the end, and leapt across to the far side of this street. From here he crouched as he quickly scuttled to the center of the bridge.

Steven was clear of the smoke here. Staying crouched, he pulled out his binoculars and looked down the block. The dark uniformed bowmen on the road level were leapfrogging their positions under the balconies and advancing, while those staying put looked for targets. Steven counted ten teams on each side still advancing; meaning about a third of the force was not advancing where he could easily see them. He looked up where the militia men had been, and saw that those were occupied by dark uniforms. Two groups were smashing windows of a structure there.

“Looks like they have split up. Maybe a third of the force on this level, the rest still below. They have cleared the militia off.”

Movement caught Steven’s attention as he put the glasses down. He looked through them again. The men that had been smashing the windows, that group was all on the ground with arrows in them.

Abey pulled on his arm. “Look there, on the lower level. Looks like some militia attacked from that alley.”

Steven put the glasses down and then looked back thorough where Abey pointed. In front of the mouth of the alley, four men lay with arrows or bolts sticking out of them. Bowmen from across the street fired into the alley, and then moved on.

Caspian spoke the conclusion before Steven quite got to it. “Looks like the locals have this whole area set up for ambush. It makes sense to shoot with bow and crossbow, as hand fighting these regulars would most likely get them killed.”

Abey saw the pattern first. Her experience with herds helping her to pick it out quickest. “It looks like the longbow men are the leaders of the groups. And that they are working with four groups to a team.”

Steven handed Abey the binoculars. “Try this. See if you can pick out and tell me who the leaders are. Turn the dial under you finger to focus the image.”

Steven recharged and reloaded his cross bow, and got it shouldered as Abey got the binoculars figured out. She started speaking, and Steven tried to follow her directions.

“On the left, the closest group. The longbow man is the second man, crouching behind the bench. I think he is a leader of four.” Abey called this out.

Steven had to concentrate to see that far, and picture his aim point. He adjusted and fired. He had the bow down and pulling on the charging handle, when Abey spoke.

“A hit. But not a kill.”

Steven made a decision. “We move. Not more than two shots from a place.”

Steven got up and sprinted to his right, and leapt up onto the roof top and carefully moved into the background. Shortly Abey and Caspian joined him.

Steven looked at Caspian for a moment. “Where’s Cyrril?”

Caspian paused and looked distant, than came back. “He is somewhere above in one of the arches. Does not want to come down.”

Steven nodded. “So long as he stays out of the way and does not get hurt.”

Steven considered the situation for a moment. It looked that Caspian had for now ceded the lead to Steven. Abey was also following; she still had the binoculars, holding them carefully. The locals had their own plan, which looked to be summed up as harassment by the militia. Whether this was until regulars could show up or some other next step, Steven did not have any clue. So what were his objectives? Get the Leader as a prisoner, seamed to be the thought that kept pushing itself into his mind. Next was to work with the locals, and help their plan.

Steven looked at his little fire team.

“Abey, you are going to be my spotter. You tell me where the leaders are, so I can shoot at them. I am down by four, so I have twenty shots left. Caspian, can you move things around, like grab the cart and drag it across the street, or some like?”

Caspian nodded, that was easily within his capacity, but he had not considered it as applicable here. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Steven nodded. “Good. Wait for me to tell you what, and then do it immediately. This has become a war; there are no rules, only objectives. Our objectives are to capture the leader, while assisting the locals. If you are concerned about fair, as far as I am concerned, it means ‘we survive.’ If you have anything to add, feel free to, but don’t be dangerous in doing so. Now, we go around here, and see what we can see. Abey keep an arms length between you and what ever cover is in front of you, and don’t get out of the shadows if you can. I will try to shoot over you. Ready?”

They nodded and Steven led out.

049 – Act On Your Decision

Steven stood behind Abey as she crouched with the binoculars. They were positioned next to a large support pillar, in its dark shadows. Caspian was waiting, energy ready to cast whatever spell in a hurry.

Abey called out what she saw. “Four by the corner, second from left is the leader.”

Steven looked through his sight at the building and drifted over to the right, across one person, and onto a second. He adjusted his aim slightly and squeezed his trigger. The crossbow let fly and Steven then pulled it from his shoulder to pull the charging handle and put another bolt in.

Abey reported his effort. “He’s down, bolt in his right collar.”

Caspian scanned across the market square below them. The locals had the attackers pinned down well. But as the three had moved around, The Leader had disappeared. This was their third position. The attackers had advanced to a second market closer to the palace. The main road went up to the next level here, or branched out deeper into the city to where the mountain rock was visible, or out onto the open area where this was the highest level, and exposed to the sun. Two more carts were in this market, leaving four unaccounted for in this direction. Steven had used almost half of his bolts in this hit-and-run tactic he was leading them in. Caspian felt a bit frustrated at not being able to help more, but this was self-imposed as he knew brawling level spells and open field spells; if he wanted to start damaging the buildings, he could cut loose. For now he was looking for the leader of the attackers.

Then Cyrril got his attention. From wherever Cyrril was, he could see the leader and three others were moving through an alley. Caspian asked where this was from his where he stood. Cyrril’s view came into his mind.

Steven was setting up for a second shot here. Caspian checked the spells he had put on Abey and Steven, and saw they were still good for a bit longer. He recharged them, and looked around, getting his bearings, and planning a course. Steven let fly his second shot, and he and Abey pulled back around the column.

Caspian led out. “Follow me. Cyrril has shown me where the leader is.”

Caspian leapt up the building they stood next to, which was anchored to the column. Abey and Steven followed, as Caspian dashed across this roof. Caspian leapt kitty corner across the intersection where this building ended, and landed on a roof one floor down and kept going. He crossed this building, hurdled the alley on this block, then ran forward to the street of the next block and stopped. Abey and then Steven caught up. Steven had not yet cocked his cross bow.

Caspian pointed his staff down. The other two looked, and Steven pulled the charging handle on his cross bow, and put a bolt into it. Aiming down he shot the rear most bowman in the neck before he could turn the corner of the alley in the block beyond. As that bolt hit, and the man fell, Steven was already reloading. The party did not reappear, so Steven leapt after in pursuit. Steven ran across this block out into the light as the level above ended, and stopped at the edge of the roof he ran across. The next few blocks in front of Steven were a light well four levels deep, with a large building structure below it which extended north out of the well. Something about it screamed ‘Palace’ to Steven.

The leader and his two men were not visible. Steven backtracked, causing Abey and Caspian to skid and turn after him, as he found the alley branch and carefully looked down. Footsteps echoed up it, Steven took off in pursuit, leapt across the road, and paused to look up the street. Cyrril swooped past and to Steven’s right to the edge of the block. Steven followed, and saw the leader and his two men peek out of the alley further down, and take off along the avenue on the edge of the super structure. If Steven had a rifle he might have tried a shot but they were out of his comfortable range with the crossbow.

Caspian went on across the middle of the block, Abey following him, both slowing down. Steven ran along the edge of the roofs with a long drop off to his right, and saw the men turn left in the next square. Steven got to the square and looked down on it, from beside the large column here.

One side of the square fronted the light well. Here were more wagons, more so the remains of them, wisps of smoke lingering. Part of the building they had been parked against had collapsed. Caspian and Abey leapt, and Caspian tossed some magic down into the square. Another explosion boomed across the square. Steven felt the air rush past the way it did when ordinance was detonated too close. His ears started ringing, as the rest of the world went silent. Steven looked down, and saw that near a dozen men in the attackers uniforms were staggered. Abey and Caspian were on the roof on the far side of the square. Steven lined up and felled another man with his crossbow, and started reloading it as he moved back off the edge and to a new position. Then Steven tasted electricity. He always tasted a little when Caspian did magic, and figured it was from his dental work. Now he tasted a lot, and Caspian let off a lightening bolt. The thunderclap was the only thing that Steven heard.

Steven got back to the edge and saw that all the bad guys were down. Abey got his attention as she slung a stone across the square and to Steven‘s left. Steven followed her prompt and saw a man limping across the street and two more fleeing into the alley mid-block across to his right. Steven took off, whishing he had a vehicle to chase around in, instead of just his feet. He leapt the street, and felt the air passage of an arrow on his scalp. He landed and kept going, following the alley to its usual mid-block intersection. Carefully he looked down, and saw two men looking around and breathing hard. Steven felt the vibrations of two people landing on the roof he stood on, and turned to look as Caspian and Abey trotted up. Steven stepped back, and Caspian grabbed Steven’s ears. Steven tasted electricity and felt a mild jolt before he could instinctively dodge out of Caspian’s grasp. Suddenly he could hear again.

Before either could say anything, Steven pointed over the side of the alley. Both nodded. Steven walked back over, and saw that the men were walking against the wall right below him, back toward the market square. Steven was about to shoot, when Abey jumped off the side and landed on the man following. Steven’s professionalism kept him from cursing, as he followed Abey’s lead and landed on the leader, who had just turned to see Abey beginning to thug his man.

Steven felt the man’s armor take the brunt of Steven’s impact, as he hit him feet first. The spell for leaping around also dissipated the force somehow, Steven was not worried how, but it only felt to Steven like he had jumped the guy from atop a fence.

The man managed to turn over and start scrambling, but Steven was right next to him and grabbed him, losing his crossbow in the process. The two wrestled a bit with Steven taking a bit of punishment from the smaller man. Steven then got a solid hit in, and ended up wrapping the man in an arm lock, and pulled his ka-bar from his belt and held it across the man’s throat.

Steven risked looking around. Caspian was standing at the opening of the alley into the rubble strewn market square. Again Steven tasted electricity, and figured Caspian was doing some magic of some kind. Some guards in their red shirts and militia men were gathering up the attackers in dark uniforms from where they had fallen in the market. Looking back into the alley, Abey had the bugler at sword point. His bugle was smashed from it having been fallen on.

Steven felt reluctant to kill this man. “Surrender and I won’t hurt you any further.”

The Leader took a breath, and then yelled, trying to call for the men he thought were in the square. ”Fight on; for glory, for Hafax.”

Steven slashed his throat, without actually cutting anything but the skin. Then with the man’s left arm occupied at his neck wound, Steven took the man’s right arm, and twisted it around the wrong way feeling the connective tissue give way, destroying the elbow as the man cried out. The man’s throat and head wounds were bloody, but ultimately superficial. Steven dropped him to the pavement, and kicked his knee hard further disabling him.

As Steven dealt with his prisoner, Abey knocked the wind out of the bugler, and smacked his head with the crossbar of her sword, knocking him cold.

More confusion began to develop around them, as the shop keepers and several more pedestrians showed up armed, and joined the guards and militia. A few blue shirted men with polished steel breast plates also started to survey the situation. Everyone deferred to them.

Steven was about to leave the leader in Caspian’s care, when he surveyed the situation, and decided to stay put. He grabbed a nearby crate to sit on, and put his feet on the downed leader. For his part, the leader realized that his neck and head were only grazed, and that he might be able to get up and move, if he could get clear. Steven stepped on his already sore knee, and rolled the man onto his belly, and put one foot on his shoulders, and the other across the mans lower back, and sat down.

“Stay put. Your fight is done.” Steven kept his tone as coolly neutral as he could.

The man tried to go for a knife in a wrist sheath. Steven went to one knee on the man’s shoulders, and grabbed his left arm as the leader tried to pull a knife free. Steven glanced around.

“Abey.”

She came over.

“His left hand. Get the knife.”

Steven put more weight onto the man’s shoulders and back, as he tried to fight. “Let her take it.”

After a pause with more of Steven’s weight on his back, beginning to hurt his spine, the man’s grip relaxed, and he let Abey have the knife. Steven felt that the man’s back had chain mail while his front had a breast plate under the black shirt he wore. There were unit devices embroidered into the shoulders of the sleeves.

The confusion died down, as the locals asserted control over the situation. A wagon was pressed to service, as a cache for surrendered and confiscated weapons, and rope was produced to bind the surrendered, as they were rounded up and taken away by the constables. Abey got the attention of a constable as he went by and told him that the leader of the assault force was within the alley. The man started to enter and hit a wizard’s shield. Caspian suggested he go get whoever was in charge here.

Progressively higher rank city guards show up in succession over the next few moments and approached to take the leader in custody. But Caspian would not lower his shield.

“Send for a Palace Guard Officer. We will not talk with anyone less.” Caspian stood at the edge of his bubble shield, addressing the City Guardsman.

050 – Rewards And Bargains

Rox sat off the side of the Dias as The Sorceress and The King and The Queen received reports from the Palace Guard and from a few officers from the City Guard, looking similar to the palace guard, but with red tunics instead of blue under their armor, and the Constables in red tunics over their armor. Most of the black-shirts had been captured, or killed. But on one of the upper levels that looked on the back of the palace to the south west, there was still some bit of squabbling to be cleaned up. It appeared that that group was the main strike force, but had started out too far away from the palace to do any real damage, thanks to the preparations of the Guards and militia. The militia and the constables in that area had not yet checked in with a final disposition.

As they mulled for a bit, a runner for the City Guard came in, saying that the leader had been captured, but that those who had him refused to turn him over to any but a Palace Guard Officer.

The King responded first. “If they have Lord Nadel, let them call for a Palace Guard. Go ahead and send someone.”

The senior guard turned to an aid, which left with the runner. Shortly the aid came back.

*          *          *

After part of an hour, a Palace Guard Officer finally showed up at the alley. His vivid blue tunic bearing what Steven gathered to be the royal device on his left breast and shoulder. He carried a sword at his belt. Unusually he did not appear to be wearing armor, where all the rest of the guards and constables did. “I understand that you have the leader of this band. What do you want?”

Caspian stepped forward. “We understand that a woman was recently sold to The Palace, as a slave. If it is who we believe it is, we will trade these two for her.”

“I am not authorized to perform such transactions. Nor do I have any specific information on recent acquisitions. But if you will bring your prisoners, I will do my best to help.”

“Fair enough.”

Both men turned away. The Guard to muster an escort, and send a runner to the palace; Caspian to help Steven with his bound captive. Once the man was hobbled, Steven finally retrieved his cross bow. It was a bit scuffed, but otherwise still serviceable. It had discharged since Steven had last had a good hold on it. The bolt was not in evidence, not even under the eaves of the buildings on either side. Steven slung it across his back and went back to work.

Steven had a loop around the leaders neck, with his good arm tied to the leash behind his back. His mangled elbow caused the right arm just to dangle. The hand was weekly holding to the man’s belt. He limped on his damaged knee. The bugler was also on a leash, both hands bound behind his back. The leash ran down to one of his feet.

A cart was brought, with a guard detail. Their Palace Blue in contrast to the red of the City Guard. Caspian led the way, collapsed the shield, and climbed up into the cart. Cyrril fluttered down to land on his shoulder. The leader was pushed over to lie on the floor of the cart, and Steven got in, and pulled him in the rest of the way. He then pulled the bugler in, and Abey climbed in. A pair of guards followed, and the tailgate was put in place. The driver then moved his way out of the immediate chaos, and onto the main thoroughfare. Steven turned to see that a pair of horses was pulling the cart at a good pace.

Abey tugged his sleeve and pointed out of the cart. Steven and one of the guards both looked where she pointed. The Wolves Wagon Master stood by a shop with Miri and all their laid aside gear.

“Your mule, sir. You left him behind.” With the smooth experience of a caravaner, he dropped Miri’s lead over the rear stake of the wagon as it rolled past.

“Thank you, mister.” Abey called, putting her hand on the loop to keep it from slipping off.

Steven nodded in return, respecting the man’s desire to remain anonymous, and wondering how he had found them. Whether the guard recognized anything, was uncertain, and of trivial importance. Miri fell into step as his lead came to length, and followed the cart.

First, they went down a level and into a receiving area. The place had a double compliment of Palace Guards on duty. Two helped Abey, and then the prisoners down. They were directed inside. Caspian led, Steven and Abey and their respective charges following into the main warehouse structure, with an escort of two guards each. Each of them was taken slightly separate to talk to a clerk. The bugler was sat down, and a large canine sat in front of him, facing him; a clerk there spoke with Abey. The man just sat quietly, still a bit dazed from being hit over the head.

Steven and his prisoner are taken by their guards a bit further, and sat down for a healer to look the leader over. First they asked Steven’s name and origin.

“I am Steven Caplan, and I think Terra would be the best answer.”

“What happened to the arm?”

Steven answered. “I bent it around backwards. I doubt he will be able to use it anytime soon.”

“And the throat and head?” The man’s tone suggested boredom, another list to fill out.

“Encouragement to cooperate. The knee was to prevent flight.” Steven matched the man’s tones.

The healer wrote some stuff down. “You’ll live. Get in line.”

The guards stood the man up, and frog marched him back to the entrance. Steven followed, with the leash in his hand. The other five joined them as an officer approached carrying some papers, and hailed them. The officer from the market was with him.

“This is them, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

The senior officer gathered the group with his glance. “Come with me.”

He led them out into the courtyard, and onto another cart. The previous arrangement of the passengers continued, with Miri behind. A light breeze started, and Steven stole a quick moment to change from his cloak and poncho to his greatcoat, pulled from Miri’s load, and to secure his crossbow to the mule’s load. Later, Steven would notice an arrow hole in the middle of the cloak, about half way up. They went back up one level, and across several terraces and around the Palace structure. There were signs of the melee having gotten this far and even into the Palace proper. They approached the Palace from the opposite side they had entered the city from, and then turned aside to go in a Guard Entrance.

They entered first a smaller outer court, where a guard platoon formed up around them. They then went through a second gate and fortress wall, and into a parade ground. The group stopped, and the cart was again dismounted. It was then led away, with Miri’s lead being held by a palace stable hand. An entourage then approached from some stairs leading from a balcony on the Palace. Steven looked them over. He recognized Roxanne’s stride and stature among the group. The decorative helmets and spears being the only things taller than this woman. But she did not look quite like Roxanne.

Caspian came to his side, and spoke English. “Say and do nothing irrational. Answer anything asked directly to you. Otherwise let me do the talking.”

Steven was not going to argue. The adrenaline high from the battle was leaving him. The rush of potentially seeing his wife again was about to hit, and rationality on its own was hard in that kind of situation.

Roxanne looked the group over as they approached. A runner had come saying that a wizard, a fighter, and a highlands-woman had captured the assault group’s leader, and would trade him for a certain woman, or news and means to find her. The King gave leave to the Sorceress to meet them and bring them to him, if this was about Roxanne. Now they met the group in a side courtyard where the guards normally drilled.

There were the Palace Guards in formation around the cart. The group got out, and the cart left. The two prisoners were being held slightly apart by the guards. The wizard with his tall staff and woolen duster; a young woman in a leather tunic, and…

Roxanne’s heart leapt within her, and she almost broke out of the group. Rox’s chains restrained her, but the Sorceress could see her almost vibrating in excitement. Roxanne turned to the Sorceress, leaning over to speak in her ear.

“The tall man in the coat: that is my husband, Steven.”

The Sorceress nodded and halted the group. She then motioned the Captain forward.

“Take the prisoners away. The Wizard’s party will be brought inside.”

She then turned and collected Roxanne, and her body guard. She quietly spoke to Roxanne as she went. “Come on. This must be done formally. Besides, you do look different than when you last saw him.”

Steven caught Caspian’s shoulder. “I think that is her. But she looks really different.”

Miri was led to the stables. The rest climbed the stairs, crossed the balcony, and went into a hall, where The King stood with a small entourage. The Sorceress moved forward, and curtsied. Roxanne followed two steps behind. They then moved aside, and stood to their usual positions at The Kings left, Roxanne two steps behind to the Sorceress’s left. Steven noticed as he entered the room that aside from the tall woman, whom he was all but sure was Roxanne, he was the tallest one in the room. Again. Only a small number of people were here, and all centered around a well built looking man, with a large gold necklace and collar on his chest.

They approached, with Caspian, Steven, and Abey behind the guards. The guards genuflected, and then the Guard Captain spoke. Steven followed the Guards moves as did Abey and after the briefest pause, Caspian.

“Your Majesty. I present the three who captured and have custody of Lord Nadel of the Barony of Hafax. Caspian, the Mage; Steven Caplan; and Annabelle, daughter of Criga, of Beowa.”

Each bowed again, or curtsied.

Roxanne could hardly take her eyes from Steven.

Steven scanned the group, and let his gaze drift from The King to Roxanne. Caspian had said a bit about expecting her to be different, but this was a bit more than Steven was prepared for. In the strange costume, o.k., and different features, umm… with a white Mohawk, uaa . . .

Caspian stepped forward, and knelt. “Your Majesty. We are travelers searching to reunite this man,” he motioned to Steven, “to his wife and children. We have reason to believe that his wife, one Roxanne Caplan, was sold here in slavery several weeks ago. Can you enlighten us on this issue?”

The King smiled, and looked at the Sorceress, and Roxanne, and back.

“I bid you rise, and welcome.”

He thought a moment, motioned for the Sorceress and Roxanne to step forward, and then continued speaking.

“Formal thanks for your actions will follow later. I think my Adviser can help you best.”

He then turned and left with several of the guards closing ranks around him. As he went, he paused where The Queen was sitting, and taking her hand helped her to her feet. They then went away, hand in hand.

The Sorceress watched them leave, smiling, before continuing, in a much less formal manor. She then turned to the tall woman behind her.

“You say your husband is Steven Caplan. Is he this man here?” She already knew, but formalities aside, propriety must be observed.

Steven moved to approach, but a pole arm was lowered in his way, so he held his ground.

“Yes, my lady. That man is my husband.” Roxanne smiled her smile.

Steven felt all doubt leave his heart.

The Sorceress turned to him. “Sir, are you Steven Caplan, husband of Roxanne?”

Steven smiled wide. “Yes ma’am. I am.”

“This woman is currently in bond. The cost of a slave is considerable. What do you offer to me, to relinquish this bond unto you?”

“I offer the Lord Nadel, currently my prisoner.”

“A Lord is worth more than a single slave. You say you are travelers. The offer is this. For Lord Nadel, I will give you this woman and her possessions, provisions for your journey, and unhindered passage. Is this acceptable?”

Steven looked at Rox, and back to the Sorceress, grinning the whole time. “More than fair, My Lady.”

Steven almost moved again, but the pole arm was still in the way.

The Sorceress turned to the scribe, who had already drawn up the contract. As she went, to hand it to Steven, Caspian interceded.

“My Lady, while literate, he is not versed in your script. If I may?”

Caspian motioned toward the contract. Steven nodded, and the Sorceress handed him the contract. He looked it over briefly; Caspian would not admit it to anyone but he could not read this local script any better than Steven could. He then handed the sheet to Steven. “All is well, as expected.”

Steven took it. The alphabet was utterly unknown to him. A scribe handed him a quill, and indicated a line. Steven put the contract on the scribe’s board, and signed it.

The Sorceress then signed it.

The scribe spoke, as he countersigned it. “This contract is valid.”

The Sorceress turned to Roxanne, and reached for the choker. She pulled the medallion off, and then stepped aside.

Roxanne stepped forward as Steven pushed the pole arm aside. They embraced, and kissed, as they hadn’t in a long time.

Finally Roxanne spoke. “I knew you would come, eventually.”

“Of course. I always return.”

“Who are your friends?”

Steven turned, letting his hand fall to his wife’s side, to keep hold of her. Abey and Caspian were talking with the Sorceress and the Captain about her prisoner. Most of the rest of the guards were walking away.

“The man with the staff is Caspian. There is a long story to him. Suffice right now to say he got me here. The young woman is a native whom we picked up. She will take more explaining.”