A Matter of Honor
Author’s Note: As I said in this month’s State of the Library, this was my attempt at a short story for this month. However, to me, it reads more like the beginning of a novel. I would be interested in hearing whether you agree, what you think of the piece and its characterization, and any other thoughts you would like to share.
“The King did what?” Jarrett paused in buckling his sword belt, staring at Dillon as if the page boy had suddenly started spouting Sudanii in a perfect accent.
Dillon slowly repeated himself. “His Majesty ordered for the Abbey of Highpeak to be raided and one of the prophetesses brought here. She’s to arrive within an hour or two.”
Jarrett had spent years building a network of spies to be his eyes and ears. Very little occurred within the palace without his knowledge.
So, how in heaven and hell could King Ulrich arrange something so audacious, and Jarrett only learn about it now, before he could do anything to stop it?
Dillon cleared his throat. He held out his hand.
“How did you learn of this?” Jarrett asked, reaching into his coin purse.
“His Majesty was speaking to High Lord Matson after the small council meeting. The King forgot I was there. He was very excited when Bullfrog gave him the news.”
Matson oversaw the King’s military. Everyone called him Bullfrog behind his back on account of his stocky stature, wide mouth, and bulging eyes. And he really liked to wear green.
Jarrett tossed Dillon two coppers, one right after the other. “Don’t buy up all the berry pies, lad. Leave some for the rest of us.”
The boy, grinning, skidded out of the bedchamber.
Moments later, a knock came to the door.
“Enter,” Jarrett called, adjusting his black and yellow tunic.
The door opened. His lieutenant, Silas, said, “Captain, the King wishes for you to escort a dignitary from Highpeak into the city.”
Doesn’t he mean captive? “Pull together a squad, then, and I’ll meet you all in the courtyard. Which gate is this dignitary entering through?”
“The Lady Gate. The King said to hurry.”
“Then I suggest you run.”
Hatram City in the summer was hot, smelly, and crowded, as opposed to the winter, when it was cold, smelly, and crowded. It spread out along the Silver River like a woman lounging in the sun. And Jarrett loved every inch of her, from the crooked, cobbled streets to the soaring spires of the temples, from the markets to the taverns.
There was the outer city and the inner city. Each were walled. The Lady Gate was on the northern end of the outer city and nearest to Palace Hill. Jarrett wondered why Ulrich was having the prophetess enter during the day, instead of sneaking her in at night.
Bringing a squad through the thick traffic of the windy, crooked streets was a slow slog. People didn’t always respond to “Make way!” with any sense of urgency. They were also frequently bumped. But, also, conveniently so, as Jarrett managed to pass a few messages along the way. It was difficult, educating street urchins to be able to read, but doable.
Street urchins. Their population had imploded during the reign of young King Ulrich. So did the poor and homeless. Everything seemed to cost more every year. But Ulrich continued to live in luxury, sending their best men to fight petty squabbles at the western border.
Was that why he ordered for this prophetess to be brought to him? Did Ulrich need an eye to the future? There were rumors that he was evaluating political ties through marriage…
Whatever the reason, Jarrett couldn’t let this woman into the city. If this was so important that the King exercised enough secrecy to leave Jarrett flat-footed, then Jarrett could not let him have this. It could not bode well for the realm, and it was to the realm he had made an oath to protect and serve.
The Lady Gate, called so because of its proximity to the Temple of Our Lady of Justice, came into view. Jarrett loosened his sword in its scabbard.
“Copper, sir! Copper for a man down on his luck!”
Jarrett looked down at the beggar that had suddenly appeared at his knee. The beggar held his cloak closed at the throat, but Jarrett recognized the jagged scar clefting the man’s skin.
“I’ve got no copper for you,” Jarrett replied, pitching his voice over the nearby merchant hawking necklaces.
Up ahead, a cart suddenly lost its wheel, clogging the road. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Get that pile of scrapwood out of the way!”
Soldiers dismounted and rushed over to help the cart owner shift the cart into a nearby alley.
The beggar pulled Jarrett’s sleeve.
Jarrett bent down, grabbing the man by the cloak, and hauled him close. Pitching his voice low, he asked, “What’s happening, Badger?”
“The King knows,” Badger whispered.
Cold seized Jarrett’s guts. “How? Where did you learn this?”
“Don’t know the how. The where don’t matter.” Badger’s breath smelled like onion and cheese. “But if you try anything, it’ll be your death at that gate.”
A loud crunching of wheels on cobblestone drew Jarrett’s attention to his men clearing the way ahead. Badger slithered out of Jarrett’s grasp. Jarrett straightened up in his saddle. His heart slammed against his chest.
A trap. This was a trap.
Badger had never led Jarrett astray before. Jarrett licked his lips, eyes darting as he took in the crowd.
That group of men clustered around a stoop, were those lumps in their clothing hidden weapons? Were their archers stationed at the windows of the looming buildings? What of his own men, who were forming back up behind him? How many of them were in on this?
Jarrett could go along with this. Or, he could slide off his horse and run. Dash down an alley, strip off his tunic, and melt into the city. Other Resistance members would gladly hide him and get him out.
“Captain?” Lieutenant Silas came up beside him. “The way is clear, sir.”
Jarrett tottered on the brink of decision and felt the moment when honor slid into place. The binding ties of his oath. He nudged his horse with his heels and continued forward.
“Make way!” shouted Silas, forcing pedestrians back as the column of Royal Guardsmen pressed toward the Lady Gate in an inexorable tide of yellow and black.
The carriage, perhaps on previous orders, had paused a hundred yards from the Lady Gate.
Soldiers, wearing rust red and dark grey, were stationed in front and behind the carriage. Merchants and foot traffic wishing to approach the gate were being kept at a distance. Their complaints peppered the air.
The forest that would have grown right up against the city walls had been cut down long ago and not a single sapling had been allowed to take root since. That one hundred yards was a straight road through barren land that stretched all around the land sides of the city.
Jarrett’s back itched, as if he could feel an archer sizing up the space between his shoulder blades. Chainmail was good against slashing and cutting, but not arrows. He quietly cursed his preference for chain over plate. He’d gotten soft.
The captain in charge of the escort lifted a hand in a lazy salute. Jarrett returned it.
“It’s my understanding I’m to take over escort,” Jarrett said.
The captain nodded. “She’s all yours. Lord Matson wants us to report to the East Watchtower.”
“Very good.” He scanned the area. None of the soldiers were acting like they were about to attack. “Allow me to introduce myself to the dignitary and we’ll take her off your hands. May I have her name?”
“We never asked.”
Jarrett looked at him sharply, as if that was somehow surprising. However, it only confirmed that this was less dignitary and more prisoner.
The captain shrugged. “Go talk to her if you want. But she hasn’t spoken a word since we left Highpeak.”
I wonder if the kidnapping had anything to do with it. But Jarrett kept his thoughts to himself and rode up to the side of the carriage.
Despite claiming to be needed elsewhere, the soldiers hadn’t moved. His guardsmen stayed behind, waiting for the others to leave before falling into place.
Jarrett dismounted and opened the carriage door.
The woman was bound and gagged. Her dark blue dress was wrinkled, torn, and dirty. Dark hair fell from her long braid in tangles. But what grabbed Jarrett’s attention the most were her eyes. Hazel green, almond shaped, and filled with absolute fury. They were the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.
The slithering sound of steel leaving scabbard slid across the air.
Jarrett turned, hand going to sword, and ducked. The blade intended for him slammed into the bottom of the carriage. Jarrett kicked the soldier hard in the side, sending him sprawling to the dirt. He drew his sword.
“Men!” he shouted. “To me!”
The men in front of the carriage fanned out as the Royal Guardsmen surged forward. The soldiers behind rushed forward. Jarrett slammed the carriage door closed and ran for the front. He hauled up to the seat. The soldier in the bench flinched in surprise. Jarrett punched him in the jaw and shoved him off the bench to the ground. He snatched up the reins.
But soldiers had already reached him, one of whom tried to pull him down.
From the gate came a roar of voices. The messages Jarrett had sent had found their homes as dozens of Resistance members poured out of the Lady Gate.
Excellent writing! It definitely feels like the beginning of a novel.
I like it! It definitely reads like part of a larger story.