Alaric Swifthand
by Steve Lazarowitz
CHAPTER 1
If you have never been there, it is hard to conceive of the city that is Modron. Like many great cities, it is an unlikely mixture of elements. Here the lowliest beggar may be seen standing only yards away from the mightiest warrior. A young waif in a torn tunic might stop to converse with a finely garbed craftsman. At any time, an unlikely personage (such as a great mage or powerful noble) might traverse a street that has not seen the like for many decades.
In addition to the people, the architecture of such as city is just as varied, due to the number of cultures that add to its structure and the number of years such work takes. Toward the center of Modron is a section built of old stone that should have long since turned to ruin. The architects of the area had vanished ages ago and their origin or indeed any hint of information about them has been long lost to history.
Many legends and tales begin on the streets of Modron. My story is just another. I was born Alaric Mason, but over the course of time, acquired the name Swifthand. I am still amazed at the implication of the label, for I can never see it when I look at myself in the mirror.
I was born in Modron. My father was a tailor, my mother a seamstress. My parents were wonderful people, but their existence was not one with which I could identify. The very concept of spending the rest of my life pulling a needle through cloth was abhorrent to me. Hence I did everything I could think of to avoid following in my father's footsteps.
I stayed out late. I drank. I pursued women. I started keeping company with a rougher crowd. Many of my older friends were already being considered for guard duty on the walls, while the younger, including myself, spent most of our time practicing with wooden swords, the only kind we could afford.
My tongue was somewhat sharper than my weapon, which was a pity for I was far from the greatest of warriors. Consequently, I was constantly forced to defend my brash attitude. I received more than one trouncing at the hands of far larger opponents. Once I realized I was unlikely to grow much larger, I started working on my speed. I practiced constantly, building upon my already impressive agility. This soon became my most obvious asset, though I was not a weak man by anyone's standard.
By the time I was seventeen, I had weaseled my way into the town guard. Unlike the larger less intelligent members of our group, I was not offered a position on the wall. Instead, amidst much jealousy, I was selected to train for the palace guard. By then my ferocious reputation kept the jackals at bay. Though there was much griping, I suffered no assaults over the matter. Or perhaps I was saved by the fact that I finally had a metal sword.
I worked hard and learned rapidly. I found I preferred shorter blades with which I could duck inside an opponent's guard more easily. I learned to fight as if I were dancing, though I don't know where I picked up the style. It was effective nonetheless.
Within a short time I was one of them, working too many hours each day for not quite enough to live on, but it didn't matter. I was happy for the work. For a time, everything went smoothly. Then Theona entered my life.
I will never forget the day I first became aware of her. She was talking with another young lady, eyes sparkling at some intimate jest. She threw back her head and laughed with complete abandon. It was her lust for life that first drew me to her, but there was more to Theona. Much more.
I'm not certain at what point she noticed me watching, but from then on, she kept turning her gaze in my direction as if to verify I was still interested. She tried to be casual, but I could see that she was intrigued by the opportunity to spend time with a guard. It didn't matter that I was wasn't much older than her. I was something new and exciting.
Whenever she was at the palace, which seemed to occur with increasing frequency, she always made certain I knew she was there. After a while, our surreptitious glances became deep scrutiny. Finally, we conspired to meet.
To be honest, I don't remember much of that encounter. I was awestruck by her wit and charm. She was entertained by my rough manner, a thing to which she was not often subjected.
She was young and pretty. Perhaps when she was older, she would be beautiful. She was everything I thought I could want in a woman. There was only one problem. She was the daughter of a noble and thus our rendezvous had to be in secret.
It was only a matter of time, before we were discovered. Let me at this time say that, though we saw each other when we could arrange it, I had always treated her honorably. Our romantic relationship was never actually consummated. The fact made little difference to her father.
I will never forget the day that I was called before Count Herlic, the man in charge of palace discipline. He looked me up and down, trying to keep the smile from his face. Whether he was amused at the thought of my punishment or my relationship with a competitor's daughter is still not clear to me.
I had often passed this room, while going about my duties and it was well appointed indeed. Only now, standing there waiting to hear the Count's decision, did I find the rich trappings more than a little intimidating. Worse yet, whatever penance was set, I would be obligated to follow it. The Count had a way with words or at least got them at a good discount. The lecture I received that day rivaled a full sermon for sterness and length. I pretended to pay rapt attention, but my mind could only consider what was to come after.
At length, he wound down and delivered his sentence. I will never forget his words as long as I live. "Tomorrow at dawn, you are to accompany the King's tax collector to the City of Broken Swords, protect him from harm and deliver him safely back to the palace. Until those taxes are paid in full, you are not to return to Modron."
And there it was. I was to be sent to the roughest frontier town they could find, a place that hadn't offered tribute to the King in time out of mind, and collect taxes. It was common knowledge that the Broken Swords was part of The Southern Realm in name only. I wondered who the tax collector had angered to receive such a sentence. If I failed, I would be forever barred from my home. Worse yet, I would never see Theona again.
Theona. What was I to do? That I loved her with all my heart might be an understatement. I would have to find some way to see her before I left. And Count Herlic was certainly not going to make that easy.
I betrayed no inkling of my plans. Instead, I bowed my head and looked intimidated, a task that didn't require much deception. I was scared. When finally I was dismissed, I was escorted to the barracks under guard. Apparently I was to be watched until after my journey began. And so went my chances of seeing Theona.
The rest of the day, I did little but sit and reflect on my future. Suddenly, being a tailor didn't seem half bad. As the day wore on, I found I could stand it no longer. I simply had to find a way to see Theona, one last time.
I studied the two men who had been sent to watch me. Not really men. Boys. I could take them, if need be. But should I? And then I thought again of the noble's daughter and realized I had no choice.
Being a guard myself, I knew that as soon as they convinced themselves that I wasn't going away, pretty much after the first hour, they would relax a bit. Start talking to each other. It was only natural. I waited until they were thus involved, before I leapt into action. I had been disarmed, of course, but still had my speed. I tripped one, while pulling the other's short blade from its scabbard. I didn't want to kill them, nor was it necessary. I knocked the prone one out with the sword's pummel and then pointed the blade at the second, who now conveniently had no weapon to oppose me. I made him bind his friend. Just as he finished, I knocked him out as well. I kept the blade and ran. Escaping the palace unseen was somewhat easier that it looked. After all, a guard's job is to keep intruders out, not in.
As I ran through the streets drawing more than an occasional stare, I started to wonder what I would say when I reached her. Would I bid her farewell? Would I ask her to come with me? If I did, would she be willing to trade her life of luxury for the uncertain future of a fugitive? What would I do now, in any case?
I knew I had to decide soon. I was rapidly approaching her father's residence.
CHAPTER 2
Baron Kelrak's domicile was more akin to a mansion than a house and the grounds upon which it stood were vast indeed. I had passed the high walls that surrounded it many times, but never before had I ventured within. I was risking everything, but Theona was worth it.
It was not difficult for me to scale the wall, though a less agile person could not have made it. I thanked the gods that I'd kept in shape. From atop my perch, I scanned the area before lowering myself to the ground. I moved as quickly as I could without making noise. As I approached the main building, I wondered how I was going to find Theona's rooms. A wrong guess would cost me.
I circled the mansion, looking for external clues. Two of the upstairs rooms had curtains that would befit a noble's daughter; brightly colored wisps of silk. One of them was next to a drainage pipe that ran down from the roof. At least it would be an easy climb.
As I began my assent, I noticed several sharp clicking noises. No doubt some industrious gardener was busy trimming a nearby hedge. I froze. Only when I had determined that the sound was coming from around the side of the house, did I continue. I pulled myself up the pipe, my knees scraping against stone, but there was nothing to be done about it. I ignored the discomfit and continued.
A short time later, I gained the ledge, though the term might be somewhat generous for so slight a protrusion. Though I trusted my balance, discovery at this point would be more than a little dangerous. I slid my feet slowly along using what handholds I could find, until I came to the window, which fortunately was wide open. I stuck my head in and looked around. Theona sat on the bed, writing. I envied her the talent. Perhaps one day, I would learn it.
I climbed through quickly, making so little noise she didn't look up until I stood before her. She almost gasped, but caught herself. I did not doubt that a lady in waiting sat just beyond the door.
"Alaric, what are you doing here?" she whispered.
"I have come to ask you to leave with me."
For a few moments she looked puzzled, as if she did not understand the question. At last she spoke. "Leave with you? To where?"
I shrugged. "What difference, as long as we're together? There's a whole world out there, waiting to be explored."
She studied me for a time and I began to grow fearful. I had allowed myself to believe that she would assent immediately. None of my thoughts on the matter prepared me for what was to come next.
"Have you lost your mind? Do you think I would give up all this," she gestured expansively here, "for life with a criminal? For a commoner with no title? I admit that our meetings were fun, but certainly you realize they were just fantasy." She continued to look at me. I tried unsuccessfully to keep the emotion from my face. "You must have the largest ego in the Kingdom, Sir, if you ever really thought you were that important to me." She laughed. "In fact, you're lucky I don't cry out and have you arrested."
I stood there, stunned, unable to believe what I was hearing. Worse yet, the words did nothing to change my feelings for her. Perhaps I believed that somehow, if I could find the right argument, I could change her mind. Then I looked at her face and knew she was telling me the truth. I had been mislead or mistaken. Determined not to give her the last word, I spoke as I backed toward the window.
"Forgive me. I had not realized how low the nobly born could sink." With those words, I climbed out, feeling for the protrusion with my toe. Once I found it, I continued, sliding along the lip toward the pipe. I did not descend immediately however. Instead I paused there, trying to understand how I could have allowed myself to be so misled.
It was a precarious place to reassess my life, but appropriate perhaps because of it. A single slip and it would be over. At any moment, a guard might pass below and spot me. Still, I did not move.
As I hung there, three stories up, I began to grow angry. How could I have come to this, over a girl that did not even care for me? I wanted to hurt her, though I knew it would be a mistake to do so. For a few minutes, I battled with the issue of revenge. I imagine that all young men must face that challenge sooner or later. I will never know how the debate ended, for it was interrupted by the sound of voices.
My first reaction almost propelled me backwards off the ledge, but I held tightly and took a moment to regain my composure. This high up, I could afford no slips. As I waited, I realized that I was in no immediate danger. The voices were coming from Theona's room. I strained my ears, but could not make out the actual words. Slowly, I made my way back to her window, ignoring my body's protests. I could not stay up here for much longer.
The first voice I was able to make out, was that of Alicia, Theona's hand maid. Alicia was actually more of a friend. Certainly she had Theona's confidence. As I listened, I was finally able to make out what she was saying.
"It must have been very hard for you. Are you certain you did the right thing?
Theona's voice was ragged, as if she'd been crying. "How can one ever know? Damn it, Alicia, what would you have done? I had no choice."
I inched closer, raising my head slightly so I could see inside. Theona sat on the bed, head in her hands. Alicia stood before her almost facing me, a look of abject sympathy on her plump young face. "How did he take it?"
Theona raised her head. Her voice was clearer, though slightly angry. "How do you think he took it? He was crushed. I don't know where I found the strength to pull it off."
"Your love gave you the strength. That's what love is. When you're willing to sacrifice everything for another." Even as she finished, she shifted her gaze and saw me. At least I thought she did. "You could have gone with him."
Theona shook her head. "And have him hunted for the rest of his life? Do you think my father would ever give up the chase before he saw Alaric's head on a pike? You know as well as I what kind of temper he has. I could never make anyone face that, especially Alaric." She broke down then. "Oh Alicia, what am I to do without him?"
I had heard enough. No matter the danger, I knew I would risk it all to be with her. I climbed through the window. Alicia smiled at me, but Theona was stunned. She turned on her servant and began to yell. "You knew he was there all along. Traitorous bitch! Get out!"
Alicia, not used to that type of treatment from her mistress, turned and fled. I knew that tears would follow, but I was thankful for her complicity. Theona looked at me and sighed. Neither of us spoke for some time. At last, I broke the silence. "I do not wish to live without you, whatever the price."
She did not look at me. "Nor I without you." She fell silent again, wrestling with her hopes and fears. Finally, she looked up. "Tonight at midnight. Meet me at the tool shed behind Aron's Forge. I'll be waiting inside."
I kissed her hand and climbed through the window, not trusting myself to speak. How quickly I had been ready to throw it all away. Now, I had reason to live again.
Staying out of sight until then was tricky, but I was up to the task. I had grown up on these streets and knew them intimately. The only place I knew I couldn't go was back to my parent's house. It was almost certainly being watched.
The hours dragged on, until the time of our rendezvous neared. At last, unable to wait any longer, I made my way to Aron's Forge. I had never been in back, but the tool shed was so large it was impossible to miss. Had I not known it was there, I would have thought it was a guest house.
I crossed the yard and pulled at the door. It swung outward on rusty hinges. It was dark inside. I brought my lantern forward, forcing the gloom into the corners. I entered, distracted at first by the amazing array of tools. Behind me the door closed slowly. Only then did I see Theona lying further in on the floor.
I set my lamp down and approached, a seed of despair growing in my stomach. I knelt down and cradled her head on my lap. Her lifeless eyes stared back at me. The thin line of blood across her throat and the pool of it in which she lay told part of the story. To her left, on the ground was an ornate, black stiletto, stained with her blood. I picked it up and studied it, unable to recognize the markings. I was so stunned, I didn't hear sound of men approaching, until the door creaked open. I regained my feet and turned. Standing in the doorway was Baron Kelrak. Behind him, still outside, I could make out at least two guards.
"What have we here?" he boomed, stepping into the shed.
I realized that I held a blade, dripping with his daughter's blood. I thought about dropping it, but didn't want to call attention to it either. I was about to experience the rage for which Baron Kelrak was so famous.
CHAPTER 3
The Baron slowly drew his sword, a malicious smile forming on his heavy jowls. I had heard tales of his swordsmanship. He was not an opponent to be taken lightly. I had no doubt that he'd yet to notice the body of his daughter, lying behind me in a pool of blood. And he was angry now.
In addition to the stiletto, I still had the sword I'd taken from the two guards earlier, but as he advanced, my confidence wavered. Even if I were a match for him, the guards outside would certainly tip the scales against me. I admit I panicked. It seemed like a good time for it. I took a step backwards, careful not to trip over Theona's corpse. Baron Kelrak pointed his sword at me and continued forward. To my left, against the rear wall of the shed, tools hung neatly on wooden pegs. I reached out, grabbed a long pole and held it lengthwise, thinking only to slow him.
He stopped and looked at me, then the object in my hands. As the far end of it came into focus, I realized I was holding a halberd. The end of the weapon, in the shape of a spear, was almost in the Baron's stomach. Then it occurred to me. I was in the shed of a blacksmith. He must use it to store some of his surplus stock. I was surrounded by weapons. I thrust forward, but he was ready for it, and sidestepped neatly, advancing around it.
There wasn't enough room for me to swing it, so I released the weapon and let it fall to the ground. It was at that moment that Baron Kelrak looked down. I had never before seen a face transform so swiftly. What had been a bit of exercise for a master swordsman was now a nightmare of unknown proportion. Even as I reached for my blade, I knew I wouldn't be on time.
The Baron, his face contorted into a mask of hatred, charged me. He didn't used his blade. If he did, I'd have certainly died then. Instead, he slammed his head into my abdomen. I had never felt such a blow. I felt my body raise off the ground and fly backward. I wasn't certain if anything was broken, but certainly enough was bruised. I slammed into the wall behind me. Then the wall deterred me no longer.
I managed to make it to one knee, uncertain of why I was still alive. I looked into the shed through the hole I had made. Baron Kelrak was on his knees over the body of his daughter. The guards had entered, not realizing I was already outside. I forced myself to my feet and took off, before they noticed I was conscious. Behind me, a scream of rage filled the night. Baron Kelrak would hunt me to the end of my days.
I ran for a long time, until I found an alley between two shops that contained enough garbage to hide me from prying eyes. I ignored the smell, sank against the wall and considered my options.
I had much to think about. The pain in my back was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Theona was dead and I had no idea why. Did someone hate me enough to set me up? Probably not. More likely someone wanted her dead and I was conveniently positioned to frame. But who?
I knew then I had two options. I could spend the rest of my life fleeing from the Baron, or I could find out who killed Theona and why. I looked down, only now realizing that I still held the dagger. For now, it was my only clue, but I needed to know more. Unfortunately I could only think of one place to find the answer.
Within a day or so, Theona would be interred in the Kelrak mausoleum. It was amazing the kind of things you learned as a palace guard. Dangerous as it would be, I needed to be there. First, to say good-bye to Theona and second, to try to figure out who had killed her. For a few moments, the image of her corpse turned over in my mind. Then I began to cry.
Tears flowed freely throughout the night. Often I had to bite my hand to keep from making noise. By the time the sun began its climb the next morning, I was ready to begin my life as a fugitive. I didn't realize it at the time, but the events of the previous evening had changed me. I was harder, more reckless and certainly less sympathetic than I had been only a day earlier. I was already considering going after the Baron myself, but that was lunacy. Even if I could beat him, which was far from a sure thing, I'd never get away with it. Anyway, he wasn't the enemy, though he didn't know it himself. I found myself wondering who was.
I made my way toward the small church on the far side of town. I slipped into the back door and walked downstairs. If I timed it correctly, and I was fairly certain I had, Father Delran would be holding noon services. I hoped so, for his sake. The door to his room was unlocked. I entered as quietly as I could and went through his wardrobe. I counted them. Twelve brown cloaks. I was certain he wouldn't miss one. I threw it over my clothes, raised the hood and made my way back to the street. This was one disguise they wouldn't see through.
I congratulated myself on being particularly clever. Holy men could go almost anywhere without being questioned, perhaps because so many of them had taken vows of silence. As I walked about town, I listened to the whispered conversations of the townsfolk. Many were talking about the murder. Several mentioned the services, which were to be held that night at dusk.
I passed the day listening to gossip. Several merchants offered me food, which I accepted gladly. I'd hardly eaten in two days. I even had a few coins contributed to the cause. As twilight approached, I made my way to the Kelrak mansion. Perhaps entering the confines of those great walls was foolishness. I simply couldn't allow them to put her away without saying farewell.
There were many people milling about, not one of which spared me a second glance. I followed the crowd to the back of the house and across the gardens to the mausoleum. In the fading light, it looked almost surreal. When I realized it would be Theona's final resting place, I had to fight back tears. I was certain of one thing. Someone would pay for what had been done to her. I hoped it wouldn't be me.
While most of the people crowded close to hear the priest speak, I stayed back and surveyed the crowd. I didn't know what I was looking for, but I thought I might when I found it. The eulogy was like every other I'd ever heard. It did not come close to capturing her spirit. Perhaps I was the only one that could have done her justice, but no one was going to ask me to speak. As the services wound down, I began to fear that I would find no clue as to what had happened. Then I looked to my left and there was Alicia.
If anyone might have an inkling as to the reason behind Theona's murder, it was her handmaiden. She was watching the ceremony with unrepressed grief. It took me a few moments to get her attention. When she looked at me questioningly, I lowered my hood, just enough so she could see who I was.
For a moment, she stood there. Then she began to scream. "Help! It's him. It's Alaric Mason."
"Alicia, listen to me, I didn't do it." Perhaps she believed me, but it didn't matter. The damage had been done. I turned and ran as fast as I could. A glance behind me told me that half the town, outraged at my intrusion, followed in pursuit.
As I rounded the house, I saw that the gates had been closed. In spite of the piety of my garb, it didn't look as if I had a prayer.
Copyright © Steve Lazarowitz ~ All Rights Reserved~