Taelroy shifted through the forms of a training routine, letting the various stances and movements stretch his muscles as he accustomed himself to the weight of the blade and shield that had cost him the entirety of his estates. Xalvador and Gaillard’s words from the night before rang through his head.
Without thine estates, thou has no station.
They were alarmingly true. What had Taelroy expected? He had doomed himself to a solitary life with this quest. Rarely would he be able to support himself, and the danger of the road was no life for a proper lady.
His strikes with the blade grew faster and less controlled as he let his thoughts overwhelm the peace of the familiar routine. Focused as he was, he did not hear the approach of Xalvador entering the courtyard.
Swords clanged loudly as Xalvador caught the edge of Taelroy’s blade against the flat of his own. A condemning maneuver for Taelroy, doomed to chip the edge of his sword – had it not been made of mithril. Taelroy started at the sound, shocked out of his reverie.
“Thou art prey.” Xalvador announced, characteristically getting directly to the point.
“Prey?” Taelroy repeated, still working to clear his head and process what his friend was saying.
“My father is spymaster to a Lord in this region, and I have been receiving training from him. I noticed at our last several stops that we have been followed by the same group for nearly a week now.”
Taelroy was finally beginning to understand what Xalvador was saying, but his friend continued talking, unaware that Taelroy wasn’t following.
“I don’t know why they’re following us,” he admitted, “Though I suspect they are waiting for a chance when our guard is down to rob, and possibly murder, three noblemen with fine weapons, armor, and horses.”
“What dost thou suggest?” Taelroy asked as his mind finally returned to the present and grasped what Xalvador was saying. “And what dost thou mean that thy father is a spymaster? I’ve known thee many years and have never heard of this.”
“I think that we should lay a trap for them.” Xalvador suggested, “Thou should take Rosie out into the market, with thine guard obviously down, to get them to follow after thee. Gail and I will follow last, attacking them from behind when their attention is on thee. As for my training, I did not bear malice toward thee in hiding it – I simply have been following the instructions of my masters; the best spies are unknown.”
Taelroy understood this logic, though he was surprised at how effective his friend had hidden this. He also agreed with Xalvador’s assessment – anyone following them must be dealt with. Still, he hesitated at the thought of including Rosie in the scheme.
“Rosie is too delicate for such danger; she could be hurt in the fray. Couldn’t we leave her at the inn and I could go alone out into the market?”
“Several patrons of the inn have seen thee with the maiden and know how your guard drops when she is around. I think this should be used to our advantage. Allow thyself to be seen with Rosie and it will be much more believable that thou art not expecting an attack.” Xalvador countered, “Besides, if she is not with thee and the plan does not go as expected, she would be alone at the inn if they sneak into our rooms while we’re away. If she is with thee, then thou can protect her.”
Taelroy accepted Xalvador’s argument; as the young Lordling went to request a stroll through the market with his Lady, the young spymaster went to prepare their ally.
Gaillard sat in his appointed place in the market, sharpening his blade as it sat across his knees. He wasn’t sure about this plan of Xalvador’s. The youngest of the three thought too highly of himself, and now claimed to have this unknown skillset to identify and outmaneuver a band of rogues and thugs. To make matters worse, Gaillard’s position was exposed.
Xalvador saved a more secure position himself, dressed in beggars’ rags and following Taelroy some distance behind; he was discrete. At least Gaillard wasn’t the bait, however. Taelroy had stupidly accepted that role and had even agreed to put Rosie in danger to further the illusion!
Gail saw Taelroy and Rosie approach, and as Xalvador had expected they were being followed by three inconspicuous men carrying long knives and cudgels. Where was Xalvador?
Xal wasn’t supposed to be so far away from Taelroy and Rosie. Gaillard grew nervous, grabbing his blade by the hilt and rising as Taelroy and Rosie meandered past at the speed of young lovers with nowhere important to be. He looked back to the corner that Taelroy had come from, then back to the three men following his friend. They were gone!
Panic set in fully in Gaillard. Something was wrong! He opened his mouth to call the alarm to Taelroy, but a rag was shoved over his mouth and up against his nose. He tried to swing his blade back, but an unexpected blow from a cudgel on the back of his hand sent his blade falling to the street.
Several pairs of heavy hands pinned his arms behind is back and dragged him into an alleyway. Finally, unable to hold his breath longer while fighting his assailants, Gaillard gasped for breath through the rag. Daze water; used to render someone unconscious…
Gamil was no mere servant; he never had been. Oh, he had never been an heir or a lordling like Master Taelroy and he had never trained in any academy to be an armsman like Xalvador and Gaillard. He was something… more. You see, every merchant has guards, every army has warriors, every lord employs a mage; those were all common. Gamil was something else entirely.
He had been a mage’s apprentice in his youth, though he had little passion for learning to cast Evocations and Protections. He tried to conscript to the army when his master refused to put up with him any longer, but they had declared he was too frail to make a good soldier. He was alone in the world, without a trade, and he found himself in a gambling den. Unlike many destitute souls that had washed up with him, he saw the pattern in the games. He understood that the games of dice were too random; too risky. He preferred cards. Cards had a rhythm to the game and could be strategized by what had already been played. He quickly learned that the gambling dens didn’t like his sort of patron.
He earned a good living in the gambling dens, though he had to move often to avoid being caught by the dens’ masters. He learned to use knives to defend himself, and most importantly he learned that people talk when they’re at the tables with a few drinks in them. People talk a LOT when they’ve gotten a few drinks in them. They didn’t even have to be talking to you, since they could usually be heard from halfway across the room.
Then Gamil heard the news that changed his life. He had been playing at a gambling den near Taelroy’s former estates when he heard a servant bragging about the payment he had received to give his master’s best recipe to the other vineyards in the region. Knowing that the master would pay well to know who had betrayed him, he went to introduce himself to Taelroy’s father.
He was indeed paid well, and paid repeatedly over the next several decades to identify possible spies or traitors among the staff and turn them in. Then his Lord had gotten himself killed by a dragon, and the foolish Lordling of an heir sold the estates and vineyards and carted HIM off on some foolish crusade for revenge. These were strange times indeed.
Still, at least the backwater hole they had stopped in had a good gambling den; right beneath the inn that he had suggested to Taelroy. He didn’t care to listen to the other patrons now. That part of his life was over. He was a simple driver. That was a good life to live, out on the road…
“We got two of the three with hardly a struggle!” someone said, speaking barely louder than a whisper.
“One paid good drops for the old beggars’ rags,” a second voice added, “so he was easy to spot. A quick blow with a cudgel and he didn’t put up a fight anymore.
“The other was a little harder. Sitting outside the tailor’s shop sharpening his blade; easy to spot, but he was already set to fight when we took him.”
“A splash of daze water fixed him good,” the first voice continued, “Put them both down in the wine cellar.”
“Well done,” the den master said as he and his two companions walked past Gamil’s table, “Those two Lordlings will fetch a high ransom back to their families.”
Lordlings!? Gamil thought, bringing his attention to the conversation nearby.
“What of the third?” the den master asked, “The one with the old King’s blade? That relic will fetch enough to make us all Kings…”
They’re talking about Taelroy! Gamil realized, So the other two must have been Xalvador and Gaillard! That cursed lordling ended this part of my life… and yet his foolish companions will be the death of me ‘ere this foolish quest is finished.