my untitled swashbuckler

it got a bit long. with 4 days to go i came up with an idea. with 1 day to go i had only 500 words written. i wrote over 2000 words yesterday, so forgive the sloppiness of the second half.


Feld spent the evening studying, as he did every evening, but today something seemed out of place. He looked around his room, at the books and ink-pots littering his desk, the dirty robes scattered on the floor, his leather jerkin hung with care on the back of the door; everything here was in order. Yet something amiss nagged at him and it interrupted his study.

He let his quill rest in the ink-pot as he concentrated on his perceptions. No strange smells coming into the room on drafts under the door or through the cracks in the window frame. No sounds filtered in from outside or upstairs. Now that was odd.

Mr. Lynchmurr lived in the room above Feld's and always held night tutoring up there. His deep voice rumbled through the wood and stone of the ceiling, keeping Feld company throughout the evening, every night without exception. What could possibly be wrong today? Mr. Lynchmurr's silence required investigating.

Pushing his book away from him, Feld stood and grabbed his cloak off the floor. He strapped on his sword and left the room, not bothering to dowse the candles; he guessed he'd be back shortly. The empty corridors echoed the tap of his boots against stone as he made his way upstairs.

A door of solid wood guarded Mr. Lynchmurr's privacy. Feld leaned into it, ear pressed against the smooth surface. He heard nothing from within. Peeking through the keyhole revealed that the key was still in the lock. Mr. Lynchmurr was inside. Obviously not holding tutorials today. Strange, but Feld accepted it with nothing more than a mild disappointment at having to return to study so soon.

Feld shrugged and turned to head back to his room when the sound of something heavy thumping to the ground stalled him. He leaned into the door. Shuffling and low grunts. He listened a while longer, hoping someone would speak. After a few long moments of nervously checking up and down the corridor, Feld's eavesdropping paid off.

He heard only low murmurs at first, but then a woman spoke out in frustration.

"You hired me to help you. I am not a politician. I get things done. What did you expect would be involved? We cannot do this with the king still on the throne."

Feld gasped and stumbled away from the door. What was Mr. Lynchmurr involved in? Could he have fallen for the lure of conspiracy and change? Feld hoped not. While the old man's ways were loud and blunt, he was still a teacher at the Academy. He had sworn oaths to the Sovereign and the State.

This illicit roundevouz must be stopped. The sound of steel slipping along leather echoed softly down the corridor as Feld drew his sword. Moving in front of the door, he aimed a kick, but before he lifted his leg, something sharp pricked against his back, poised to slip into his kidneys.

Sword leading the way, Feld turned to face the a man with jet back hair and a large moustache. His brash move took his assailant by surprise and the large man backed up a few steps, giving Feld the chance to press the attack. He lunged forward, aiming for black-hair's shoulder. Better to disable his opponent than aim for a killing blow. Feld had never seen this man before, and even though he seemed up to no good, Feld believed killing without good reason made him no better than the conspirators he stood against.

Black-hair dodged the blow, sidestepping while parrying Feld's blow. His side sword came back on the follow-through to slash at Feld's rapier. This man was fast! Feld did not have a chance to pull out of his lunge before Black-hair's sword came back at him. With no other choice, he continued downward flinging out a hand to balance himself as he rolled to safety.

Heart pounding, he leaped to his feet, just in time to parry the next blow. He stepped back, but his opponent pressed on. Adrenaline fuelled Feld's muscles, but he knew it would not be enough. The clash of sword on sword rang out up and down the corridor as they fought, Feld just about holding off the stronger man's attacks and certainly not finding a chance to press his own offensive.

Doors along the hall opened and faces popped out.

"Conspiracy," Feld shouted.

The distraction cost him. Black-hair's sword pierced through Feld's side sending a wave of pain through his abdomen. The large man smiled and let up his attack. He leered at the faces peeking out around their doors and with one curt noise sent the on-lookers scuttling back to their rooms.

"No one will help you, little boy. It's just you and me," Black-hair said. He took one step forward, looming over Feld with murder in his eyes. "You made the wrong choice to poke your dirty nose into Lynchmurr's business."

"Randall!" a woman called out from up the corridor.

Without taking his eyes off Feld, Black-hair answered her with a grunt.

"Do not kill the boy," she said. "He may be of some use to us if our plans run awry."

Randall grunted again. "Seems you get off light this time," he said to Feld.

The world was already turning black for Feld by the time Randall's fist came down on his head, but the clout helped speed things along.

* * *

Feld woke, some unknown amount of time later, to the smell of old cloth sacking and earthy vegetables. He opened his eyes to darkness and looked around for any spark of light. The movement sent waves of pain through his head, and rippling nauseatingly through his body. Perhaps sleep would be the best. Before he had even finished the thought, sopor claimed him.

When he woke again, dim light filtered down from a grate high up in the wall. He could hear shouts, merry chatter and the smell of fresh food coming through on the trickle of fresh air. Market; he must be in a cellar right on the market. But which one? Almost every open square in the city held a market at this time of year.

But what was he doing down here? He made a move to stand, but stabbing pain in his side pulled him back down. The wound felt bad. Lifting his shirt, he saw that it had been properly dressed and bound, but a small dark patch marred the bandage. His captors showed mercy; he would remember this when he brought their case before the king.

The day passed slowly for him, marked by the rising and falling volume of noise from the market. As the small light from the grate started to fade, Feld's isolation ended. The door burst open, to admit high pitched screams and grunts of pain. A pretty girl bound and held by Randall accompanied the screams.

"Let me go, you cretin," she shouted.

"As you wish, lady," Randall said, with an ugly smile on his face. He tossed her into the room and she landed on hands and knees beside Feld.

She roared some very unbecoming words at Randall, but they washed over him like water over a rock. With a slam and a click he closed the door and locked it. Without even a look for Feld she set about looking for a way out of the room. This phased Feld, but he wasn't about to let her abruptness get the better of his manners.

"My lady, are you hurt? Can I help" he asked.

"Do I look hurt, yokel? I am just fine, and I need no help. I am perfectly capable of helping myself."

She drew a tiny dagger from her corset and deftly used it to cut the ropes binding her arms. Feld watched in amazement as she proceeded to use the narrow knife to pick the lock on the door. A few moments later she stood in the open doorway, soft hair and shapely body framed against the light from the hall.

"Are you just going to sit there?" she said. "Or would your lack of manners allow a lady to walk the evening streets unaccompanied?"

"No. No, I'm coming," he said as he jumped up off the ground and scurried over to her.

"Here," she handed him the little dagger.

He cut the rope that had bound him, left it on the ground in the corner of the cellar and followed his saviour out to street level.

"We must get to the king. He needs to be warned."

"After you, my lady," Feld said. Here at last was something he understood perfectly. This lady was abrupt, a little rude perhaps, but if she could bring this conspiracy to light before the king he would accompany her to Hell and back.

They rounded the corner out onto the market and almost walked straight into Randall.

"Going somewhere?" the large man said.

"Not any more," Feld's mysterious lady-friend said. She drew an ornately hilted rapier and held it expertly in the en garde position. "Boy, find another way. I'll hold off this brute."

While Feld generally would never leave a lady to the mercy of a brute such as Randall, she seemed more than capable of handling herself.

The streets faded into a blur of buildings, people and pounding steps. Feld ran at the fastest pace he could sustain, heading uphill towards the palace. The crowd stumbled out of his way, hurling shouts and insults after him. Words alone did not have the power to slow him and he reached the palace just as the sun sank behind its high walls and towers.

Out of breath and heart pounding from the exertion, he approached the guards at the gate.

"I bring dire warning for the king," he said.

"You and the rest of the ragged scum in this city. Clear off beggar."

Feld couldn't move. The guard not believing him was the last scenario he would have expected when bringing news of a conspiracy to the king.

"Are you deaf or what? Clear off," the guard said.

Feld took a few steps backwards, without turning. He had to get in to see the king. This wasn't one of the Academy tests; he couldn't fail at this. In an act of desperation he drew his sword.

"I must see the king. His life is at risk."

"From you, maybe. Boy, you are not getting into the palace." To emphasize his point, the guard drew his sword. He stood en garde, but did not attack.

Whether from blood loss or the excitement of everything that had happened in the last day, Feld's good sense had deserted him. He lunged at the guard, who parried easily. He refrained from a riposte, possibly from some sense of pity for Feld.

Feld attacked again, this time the guard was not as lenient. His riposte flashed through Feld's weak defence, headed straight for his heart. Feld watched in horror as the deadly point made to run him through. At the last possible instant another sword came from the side and parried the guard's blow.

"Thanks, Drelius. But we want this boy alive."

"My lady. Forgive me. I was not aware."

Feld turned to look at the lady who had just saved him. It was his strange benefactor from the cellar. Now he owed her his life. His relationship with this woman was not off to a good start.

"Come along, boy."

"My name is Feld."

"Well good for you."

She lead him into the palace grounds, through gardens lush with the life of late summer, and into the cold granite halls of the keep. They strode at a fast pace through the corridors, heading up flights of stairs and burrowing ever deeper into the keep.

They came out at an unadorned wooden door. The only signs of its importance were the thick iron bands reinforcing the width and the iron bars protecting the locks and hinges. The lady knocked on the door and waited for a reply. They did not wait long. Almost immediately they were admitted and Feld found himself walking through a small room towards a large desk, at which sat the king.

"What's all this faff about a conspiracy?" he asked.

"It's true this time, sire," the mysterious lady said. "The boy will tell you all about it."

She pushed Feld in front of her. He stood before the king and all the words he had ever learned dove headlong from his brain.

"You... Your Majesty," he said, then stopped, at a total loss.

"The conspiracy, boy?"

Why must everyone call him boy? His focus snapped back into place and he began to speak.

"I am Feld of Waterhaven, fifth year student of the Academy. The night before last, I happened upon a group of people conspiring against you, Your Majesty." He related the tale embellishing only the fights. He didn't think his prowess would impress the lady, but there was no harm in trying.

"And I have your side of things," the king said to the lady. "Very well. Bring them in. Feld could you stay with me a moment?"

The lady left and Feld took a seat that one of the king's guards pulled up for him.

"An Academy teacher conspiring against the crown is a frightening thought, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Have you noticed any other strange occurrences at the Academy?" the king said.

Feld related some other things he had noticed.

The king nodded. "Very well. I will call on you again if I need you."

A guard escorted Feld to the gate. He knew he should return to the Academy, but it was not every day something this exciting happened. He dragged his feet down the hill, towards the Academy.

About half way there a large gathering of people hampered his already slow progress. He stopped to see what was going on. Royal guards stood around a house and the sounds of fighting came from inside. As he watched the fight broke out onto the street.

The mysterious lady fought another woman. Feld watched, fascinated, as their swords flashed almost faster than his eyes could perceive. Here were two masters, neither able to get an advantage over the other. A glint of lamplight caught Feld's eye and he looked over to see a man in the crowd draw a dagger. The man edged around the crowd, positioning himself behind Feld's lady.

Feld gasped. Surely, this man wouldn't dare throw that dagger? He put too many people at risk. But even as Feld doubted him, the man raised his arm to throw.

This would not happen. Feld would not allow such a despicable trick go unchallenged. He drew his sword and ran towards the man. But too late. The man had already released. With a swift downward stroke, Feld whacked the dagger from the air. He let his momentum push him on and brought his sword around to strike the man.

Steel pierced flesh and the man cried out. A second later Feld heard a woman cry out in pain. He turned to see his lady smiling at him as she stood over the prone from of the woman she had been fighting. He smiled back.

"Well done, Feld," she said. "Now help me tie these two up. And later, remind me to recommend you to the king's watch."

Feld had never heard of the king's watch, but he wasn't about to argue. This felt like the start of something interesting and it was about time for a little excitement in his life.

The End


hope you enjoyed. feel free to leave a comment, even just saying: "liked it" or "didn't like it." thanks