A Snoop Without Magic, page 28
“Not usually,” the fake mayor said. “Are you really passing through?”
“I am training for the Baskin Trials. My name is Effian Walk. My trainers are accompanying me, so we can practice outside Baskin. You can’t be too careful whom you talk to,” Sam said, nearly smiling.
“No, you can’t.”
“I can’t be the only prisoner that they have taken. Are there other buildings like this used to jail protesting townspeople?”
The mayor nodded. “This is the noble’s jail.” He laughed when he said it, thinking himself clever. “There is another for the town’s riff-raff closer to the stables.”
Sam had to get there to see if the mayor was still alive, but he didn’t know what faced him outside the garden shed.
The door opened. “Did you find out anything, my lord?”
Sam tried to look surprised. “You aren’t the mayor?”
“Ha, ha! Fooled you,” the lord said when he pulled off his mask.
“Why?”
“I wanted to see who sent you. If you are who you say you are, why didn’t you kill my men?”
“They weren’t worth it, but they needed a lesson in courtesy from Effian Walk,” Sam said, referring to his alter ego in the third person.
“You are quite arrogant, but your court language is so good.”
“It isn’t your court language. I am a Vaarekian, come to Toraltia to duel in the Baskin Trials.”
“You did mention that,” the noble said. “You aren’t so tough when your hands are bound, are you?” He looked at his men. “Beat him and put him in with the others,” the noble said, walking away followed by two men, leaving Sam with the two men who had throttled him the previous evening.
They both sneered at Sam. Sam had already shrugged off his armor from the previous evening, as it wouldn’t offer very good protection in its current form. He made a fresh set, including a thick invisible mask to protect his face. He had finally found a use for such a thing.
They pushed him down to the ground and began to kick him. Sam groaned, which was easy since he could feel every blow through the armor. He would be a little bruised, but the men were so angry, they didn’t see their kicks weren’t doing much damage.
Sam collapsed, so they had to drag him to a larger building. They opened the door and tossed Sam in. There were seven other men. Sam immediately recognized the real mayor.
He sat up. “Are any of you a noble in disguise?” Sam said in court language.
“Not here,” the mayor said. “Who are you?”
“Effian Walk. I was planning on spending the night in your town, but spent half of it in a gardener’s shed with one of your noble masters.”
“Masters!” the mayor said with disgust, spitting in the dirt. “My constables showed me how brave they were. I’m the mayor here, and they just ran and hid when Lime, Recipe, and Cord showed up with their thugs.”
“Are they planning on killing you?”
The mayor looked grim. “Two weeks, they said. Two weeks if the formal documents are to ever come from Baskin proclaiming Cord the new town lord. He said we die regardless. A half-blood isn’t enough anymore.”
“It is that way across Toraltia,” Sam said. “I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“But what can you do about it?”
Sam smiled. “Are we among friends?” Sam asked the mayor.
“I am, I’m not so sure about you.”
“I came at the request of Rabeka Oriole.”
“Rabeka! How is she doing through all this?”
“Worried sick about you.”
A few of the men chuckled, and one said ‘lovebirds.’
“You are among friends.”
Sam snapped the manacles off his wrists. “I am not without abilities,” he said.
The men looked hopeful.
“Are you able to fight?” Sam asked.
The hope faded from their faces.
“We aren’t trained as well as they.”
Sam pursed his lips. “Have you seen the lords’ sword skills?”
“They aren’t as good as their men,” Hine said.
“I didn’t come alone,” Sam said, “but I have to get word to my friends at the inn on the square.”
“I can do that,” one of the prisoners said. “I know a way out of Hine’s yard that Cord’s men don’t.”
“Good. I can arm you with good pollen swords, but they are still made out of pollen. The advantage for you will be that they are invisible.”
“Invisible pollen?” one of the prisoners said.
Sam nodded. “Feel my face.”
“It is covered with something.”
“Feel my chest.”
“Armor?” another said.
“It is. I can make invisible armor and invisible weapons.”
“But what about these?”
A few of the men showed Sam their manacled ankles.
“I have this,” Sam pulled out a hidden gold coin. “It won’t take long.”
After twenty minutes of work, all the men had their manacles off, armor on, and were marveling at their invisible swords.
“Now to get out of here,” Hine said. “We have tried, but I made this tack shed to last a long time.”
“Will you mind repairing it?”
Hine snorted. “If I can get out? Not at all.”
Sam built some pollen blocks to protect the men and placed a ward on the back wall, where a boarded-up window would lead to their escape. He tossed a pollen stone against the flat ward. The explosion was muffled, but it opened a hole in the window.
The men began to climb out. Sam ran to the front door and slapped explosive wards and stink wards that would be triggered by the door opening.
Sam’s escapees ran behind the stables while Hine and Sam looked on and one of the men ran to fetch Kened, Worren, and Ian.
One of the mayor’s servants approached the door. Sam had to hold Hine’s arm to keep him from going out, even though Sam felt bad about seeing an innocent man injured.
The door exploded, sending the man back into the dirt. He gagged and staggered away while the real thugs rushed to the building. They retreated, waving their hands in front of their faces.
Sam led the men to the other end of the stable.
“You didn’t set wards to kill?”
Sam shook his head. “No. If they want to fight me with a sword, I will do so,” he said as arrogantly as Effian would have.
“They went out the back!” Sam heard from the tack building’s direction.
“We stay away from them as long as we can,” Sam said. “Let’s go.
The seven men played hide and seek with the lords’ thugs until they were finally caught, with three men coming from one direction and three from the other. It appeared the three lords weren’t going to get their hands bloody. Sam knew the two thugs that beat him up weren’t that good, and he told the men to rush the group coming from behind.
The lords’ men laughed to see the escapee’s without weapons as they raised their own. “You will die for escaping from our prison,” one of the thugs said.
Sam stood in front and took the brunt of the first onslaught. Three swords came at him, and he couldn’t deflect all their blows, but his armor held up, even though the sword’s grip was slipping. He tossed that sword away and created another while three of the prisoners backed up Sam’s initial attack.
Sam made a heavy rod of pollen to act like his wand, as he faced the other three. With two weapons in his hand, he began to score on the three thugs he held off on his own. There weren’t as many cuts as there were abrasions and bruises.
The three young lords came up beside them, and Sam knew he couldn’t fight six, so he threw pollen blocks on the closest two, but he could tell his pollen making was about to fade away with so much use. He made a quick ward and tossed it toward a thug, who flinched but didn’t see it coming. The explosion blew the man off his feet, making him face the three lords, who had backed five or six paces away. Sam tried another ward, but it was very weak. He was out of options as he felt the grip on his weapons begin to get slick as they softened.
Hine and the others were taking blows and giving blows in a stalemate as the three lords began to advance again.
“Out of your magic?” one of the lords said. He picked up a stick and slapped on a ward of his own. Sam could see the flash of colors.
He slapped the tossed ward away, making it explode two feet from his face. His armor barely protected him, and the blast had opened holes in his protection. He heard shouting behind him as Kened and Worren joined the fight with Hine, and his townsmen started. Kened ran up and gave Sam his good practice sword as Worren continued to finish the fight behind them.
Ian walked behind the three lords, looking very grim, but the nobles didn’t know he was there. They turned and stopped.
“Ian Shelf!” one of them said, wailing. “He is a Trials champion.”
“We are all champions as far as you three are concerned,” Sam said. “Throw down your weapons. You are fighting against commoners, so admit you are defeated.”
The lord who had masqueraded as the mayor and made the ward, stood tall. “Never. Nobles will always prevail.”
“Is that true?” Ian said. “I have defeated many nobles in my time.”
“I have killed a few myself,” Sam said, as nonchalantly as he felt he could get away with.
Kened winced beside him. “That was too bold, Effian.”
“You will die by my hand!” the lord said. He made another ward and tossed it at Sam who had to throw his sword at it. The sword was blown away and stuck point first on the side of the outbuilding they were behind.
Sam could see the blade was gouged by the blast, as well as bent. He had no weapon.
Hine came up beside him. “Take mine,” he said as the nobles ran towards Sam and Kened.
The fight was quick. The noble pollen-expert ran right into Sam’s outstretched blade and was killed immediately, since Sam could see the blade had pierced his heart. Ian took care of his opponent in two strokes. Kened took a slash to his neck but did so as he nearly cut the arm off his opponent. Ian made sure the lord would never get a chance to heal.
Sam sat down. “Too close. Much too close,” he said. He looked up at Hine. “Can you take it from here, Mayor?”
“I can, just as soon as Rabeka fixes my wound.” He held up his arm that had a slight cut on it. “A healer has been called for, but none of the thugs made it, either. You may return to your inn.”
Sam didn’t care to see the lord’s men killed. Ian had to slap a pollen patch on Kened’s neck since Sam was out of magic. He figured Effian Walk had done enough for the town and for Winnie.
Stefen approached them as Sam, Ian, Worren, and Kened reached the inn.
“Ah, they have released you. I spent the morning in town. Most townspeople are ready to fight. I think you can convince them to storm the mayor’s house.”
“They might assemble at the mayor’s house, but it won’t be to fight. It will be to celebrate,” Sam said. “We have taken care of the problem, with the help of Mayor Hine.”
Rabeka Oriole ran to Sam. “I heard there has been fighting.”
“Hine needs you to help heal him,” Sam said. He smiled as they watched the woman rush toward the mayor’s house. “I think it is time to leave. I have had enough training for today,”
Ian smiled. “I think you are right. Now I can say I have killed a noble.”
Sam made a pained face at Ian Shelf’s comment, but Kened and Ian laughed. Worren looked mystified.
Chapter Thirty-Three
~
“Y ou know more about these things than I do,” Sam said to Winnie.
She had treated him to lunch, ostensibly to help him with his Toraltian.
“One can’t tell these days, but nobles have tried to become town or village nobles before. They are driven out, usually by constables,” Winnie said. “Wasn’t there a village lord Father drove out in the mountains when you were with Harrison?”
“Bagbox was his name. He came with a bunch of thugs, too, and terrorized the village. Harrison and I had already left when Chief Bentwick arrived, so I don’t know what happened to him.”
“Fought to the end,” Winnie said, “if my memory serves. I don’t know what is changing. If one of the young nobles was the son of Lord Cord, I’m not so sure the episode will be over.”
“Then it would make sense for them to ally themselves with Harrison Dimple.”
Winnie’s eyes sparkled. “I think you are right. I will talk to Aunt Rabeka when she visits Baskin in two weeks. She always comes for the celebrations during the Trials. What is next for you?”
“I am waiting for the onslaught of invitations,” Sam said. “I hope my visit to Gorravale doesn’t get around.”
Winnie looked at him sideways. “I think I will have a talk with Stefen to get a more colorful version of your escapade. You said you weren’t in danger, but somehow I get the feeling it wasn’t that easy.”
“Some of it was,” Sam said. “We all got together and figured I would be captured in the middle of the night, but the lord impersonating Mayor Hine was a surprise.”
“You already told me that. I’m sure there is more.”
“I lost my magic,” Sam finally admitted.
“You lost it, and you couldn’t find it?” She patted him on the shoulder. “Poor boy.”
“I was in the middle of the confrontation with the noble boys.”
“Boys are they?” Winnie said. “You said they were in their late twenties.”
Sam shrugged. “They acted immaturely. I made armor and weapons for Hine and the other six prisoners. I found that when my grip got slippery, I could toss the weapon aside and make another. I probably made four more swords during the fight, but the last ward I made exhausted me,” Sam admitted. “I was without a weapon when Cord’s ward blew my sword into a wall.”
Winnie finally lost her amused expression. “Why weren’t you blown against the wall?”
“I threw my sword at it. My armor wouldn’t have helped very much.”
“You threw your sword like a knife?”
Sam shrugged again. “What else could I do, welcome it into my arms?”
“You could do that for me,” Winnie said.
“Do what?”
“Welcome me into your arms,” she said, but then Winnie must have realized what she said. She blushed and put her hands to her face. “Forget I said that. I was caught up in the banter, that’s all.”
Sam wanted to smile like Effian Walk might, but he kept his face still. “I will.”
Winnie looked into his eyes. “Something for another time.”
“I agree. Another time,” Sam said, wishing that time would come sooner than later.
~
Worren adjusted Sam’s outfit, but Sam couldn’t stop fidgeting. The first invitation to a Baskin Trials party sitting on the table attracted Sam’s gaze. He was nervous, but took a deep breath and lifted his chin.
“Effian Walk. Effian Walk.” Sam said to himself. His stiffened his shoulders and then relaxed to assume his alter-ego’s affected slouch. Ian had worked with Sam for a week to exaggerate the Effian Walk slouch that he had always used.
“Why are you so nervous?” Worren said.
“I could always hide behind my lack of Toraltian, now I’m all on my own,” Sam said.
“You are an accomplished duelist. You won three qualifying tournaments on your own. If you are challenged, fall back on your being a duelist, an athlete who doesn’t get out much. You do have a record of not being out in society.”
Sam nodded. He was more comfortable snooping or acting with a sword in his hand. “I know what I’ll do. I will ask questions as if I am a snoop.”
“Arrogantly, do it arrogantly, and I think that will work out as good as anything.” Worren shivered. “You are even making me more nervous, and that isn’t a good thing, Effian.”
Sam nodded again. He took a deep breath and grabbed the invitation. “Time to perform.”
Worren smiled. “Knock them dead, figuratively, of course.”
“Of course.” Sam smiled, and that seemed to relieve some of his anxiety.
Stefen was dressed to accompany him, and they both left in one of Lady Grate’s carriages.
“Are you ready?” Dickey Nail said when Sam climbed in.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you would be back,” Sam said, looking at Keeta sitting with a smug smile and her arm inserted through Dickey’s.
“I don’t usually attend these things,” Keeta said, “but since you might be a little anxious, Dickey suggested we accompany you. It isn’t a secret that we sponsored you and brought you into Baskin.”
Sam sat back and sighed with relief. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”
“I didn’t get in until late yesterday,” Dickey said, “and Keet wasn’t about to go unescorted, you know.”
Sam smiled. “I didn’t want to go unescorted either.”
Stefen cleared his throat.
“Into the party, I mean,” Sam said, grinning at the butler.
“That makes three of us,” Dickey said. “I hate these things. You might remember I was somewhat of a recluse until I married this social butterfly.” His mouth formed his smirk as he looked at Keeta.
“Isn’t it wonderful how both partners can grow in a marriage?” Keeta said.
Sam wasn’t so sure she said it with good humor, but it appeared that Dickey ignored her.
“So, Effian, are you about ready for the Trials to begin?” Dickey said, switching to court language.
Sam lifted his chin. “I am always ready, but I have been training with a former champion to understand the nuances of Toraltian dueling. I am an expert, of course, of dueling in the hinterlands, since I won three tournaments, but I don’t want to underestimate what goes on in Baskin.”
Keeta smiled. “Why did Lady Grate bother picking up a foreigner to play with our Baskin duelists? Doesn’t your very presence stink of bad taste?”
Sam assumed a perplexed look. “You said something, Lady?”
Dickey leaned back amused. “That will work for some, but not others, Effian.”
