The Once and Future Man - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Aldrich Covington watched the young woman move up and down on top of him as he laid back against the feather pillows of his bed. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. He couldn't stand all the crying; the first two women had been disposed of because they just couldn't stop. The first he had pushed off the roof, almost by mistake. The second he had smothered in bed. Her nonstop tears had been keeping him awake. This new one looked like she might stick around for a while though. Until he grew tired of her and found someone new.

There would be no trouble finding a new bed warmer when the time came, unlike home.

He'd grown up as part of a well to do family in England, just outside of Birmingham. When he was in his late teens the coppers had shown up at their country house and slapped the cuffs on his father. It turned out the old man had put huge portions of their money into some disastrous investments. To cover his losses, he'd taken to defrauding members of their social circle. His father had been taken away amid the flashing of TV cameras

After a quick trial that played out on the nightly news, he'd been sentenced to twenty years to life in prison. His mother had had nowhere to turn once his father was in a cell. The rest of the family cut them off. Between the loss of all the money and the embarrassment of the trial, they'd had enough. Doors slammed shut on them all across the country. The old man's fraud had extended to almost everyone they knew. When the investigators had come to auction off the last house, she had gone to take a bath with a bottle of pills and never come out again.

Aldrich had been on his own then. One parent in prison, the other in the ground. All of his former mates were warned off from being around him. The government had taken everything to try to make restitution to his father's victims. Before he knew it, he was living on the streets in Birmingham. His own bank accounts were emptied in months, not that there was much in them to begin with.

He had no job skills. His private school had expelled him after his father was arrested. His days were spent more and more in the pub. A group of toughs approached him while he was three pints deep and asked him if he wanted to help them pull a job.

The woman on top of him started moving faster, he put his hands on her hips to slow her down. She wasn't going to get this over with that quickly.

When the street punks had asked him to join them, he hadn't even wanted to know what they were up to. It was the first time anyone had shown interest in him since the trial. Aldrich soon found out that their aim was to rob a bank and he was going to be the muscle.

Covington was a big man, even then, when he was only nineteen. He was six over feet tall on a good day and thickly built. In those days he still had a head full of thick black hair. There weren't any scars on his face yet, and his blue eyes hadn't become hardened. That first job went well, all he had to do was stand near the door and look intimidating. They made a clean getaway and split the money.

Aldrich went back to the pubs, not expecting to see his accomplices again. A few days went by before he was approached by a different group of men, this time about hijacking a truck. Again, the job went well, only this time the men asked him to meet them again the next day. This was his entry to the world of Birmingham's organized crime.

He got on well with the different toughs and bosses in the organization. He did the jobs and kept his mouth shut. Before long Aldrich had moved his way up the ranks to where he was no longer the one having to rob the banks or hijack the trucks directly. Year after year he advanced in the organization. He shaved his head when he started to lose his hair, this only served to make him more intimidating to those around him. Scars and tattoos followed one after another until he looked nothing like the rich kid whose father was arrested anymore.

There were some in the underworld who never forgot where he came from, however. Always one person at a meeting who gave him a distrustful look. Always some snide comment about being soft or spoiled. He made everyone around him plenty of money and there were a few that he considered his friends. But he remained isolated, never truly respected, never truly trusted.

He'd been waiting in the pub before a meeting with a member of a rival organization when he felt cold metal against the back of his head. There hadn't been any time to react. Just a loud noise and then... nothing.

The woman started moving faster on top of him again and this time he let her. Before long he had reached his finish and pushed her off of him. She rolled over and curled into a ball. Aldrich got up from the bed and walked out onto the balcony of his room. Since arriving, he'd been given one of the nicer rooms in the castle, high up in a tower. The open window overlooked the city wall and the lush valley that surrounded it.

The room he woke up in after being shot looked just like the pub he'd been in. Except there was no one else there. No sad drunks, no shady figures making quiet deals in the booths, no bartender to pour him a drink. Then the voices started. Telling him he'd been chosen for an experiment, asking him to make a list of supplies. Aldrich had torn the bar apart after that, smashing chairs and throwing bottles of alcohol in every direction. He'd even ripped a bench off the floor and tried to use it as a battering ram on the door when it wouldn't open, no matter what he tried.

In his head the voices continued, experiments and lists over and over. Aldrich stood in the middle of the destroyed bar, breathing heavy, his right eye twitching. This couldn't be real. Was this a coma? Or was this hell, a punishment for his life of crime. Once again, he was left with nothing.

He'd made his list as requested. Some food and water, some clothes, other odds and ends he wasn't willing to do without. Of course, he tried to put weapons on the list every way he could think of. Each time he was told they wouldn't be sent. Except for a couple of knives, he had no way to defend himself. He could feel his hour of time creeping to a close when he came up with a solution. The voices in his head wouldn't let him have any guns or bullets, but there were other things he could make. He filled the rest of his allotment with little clay pots and powdered sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter. That was allowed to stay on the list. He congratulated himself on outthinking the voices in his head when he arrived naked in the dirt on the floor of a cave.

Aldrich's right eye was twitching as he sat up and looked around the cave. This was the worst dream he'd ever had. In minutes he'd gotten dressed and filled a bag with spare clothes along with some food and water. One box was full of row after row of small ceramic pots. Slightly smaller than his closed fist, they were all perfect orbs with an opening the size of a two-pound coin. At the end of the crate was a pile of corks with a length of fuse threaded through the middle of each one.

It took him almost an hour to get the ratios right, mixing the various powders he'd brought. Eventually he got it right and started filling the little pots. Soon he had a baker's dozen ready to go in a messenger bag. Aldrich slung the strap of the bag over one shoulder, picked up his sack of emergency rations, and on a whim, an umbrella.

The door of his cave opened onto a ledge overlooking a valley in the mountains. A path ran down away from his cave, through the trees and out into the grassy hills of the valley. In the distance he could see a large town, peaked roofs and stone towers looking idyllic against the surrounding mountains. There was a slight drizzle of rain coming down from the low hanging clouds, the sun peeking through occasionally.

He opened the umbrella and set off down the path. Aldrich had to admit, his brain had outdone itself this time. His dreams were never this detailed usually, or this imaginative. Aside from the rain, it was a pleasant little walk down off the ridge where the cave was set into one of the mountains at the end of the valley. Aldrich made it down the slope and through the trees in an hour or so. He didn't see a soul until he was almost out of the forest.

A thin rangy man was walking up the path into the trees carrying a bow and arrow. He was dressed in greens and tans to blend in with the undergrowth, hood up over his head against the rain. The man stopped to gawk at Aldrich, he'd never seen an umbrella before. Aldrich had stopped in the middle of the path and offered the stranger a polite hello.

It turned out that he was a hunter employed by the rulers of the valley, brothers who would be returning from a trip overseas, some losers named Greddor and Nessor. The Robin Hood impersonator also let him know that he was in the Sinton Valley, which lead down to the shore of the Verdant Sea. They chit-chatted about other news of the valley for a few minutes and then the hunter had to move on with his work.

Aldrich nodded and watched him head into the trees. On a whim he opened the messenger bag and pulled out one of the little pots. He lit the fuse with a match and called out to the helpful stranger. The man turned back to him, thinking he had more questions. Aldrich thanked him for the information, then tossed the lit grenade to the man. He caught it easily and stared at it, confused. Aldrich Covington turned to keep walking down the path with his umbrella up.

He hummed under his breath as he walked and counted down from ten. "I've just come down from the Isle of Skye, I'm no very big an' I'm awfully shy..."

A wave of pressure hit him in the back when the grenade exploded. The hunter disintegrated from the waist up, tiny parts of him and droplets of blood mixing with the rain as it hit his umbrella.

"All the lassies shout as I walk by, Donald where's your trousers..."

****

David was eating lunch in the kitchen with Rosha and her daughter. Jaym was with Boland taking care of the horses and the carriage out back. It had been almost a week since his confrontation with Lord Harsk. Liri finished her food and ran out the back door before her mother could stop her. The young maid was getting better at finding excuses to 'help' the caretaker.

"You need to start a family. Or host more events so I have some work for that girl." Rosha said.

He laughed and kept eating, there was little chance of her getting her wish. There had been a meeting of artisans in the library the day before yesterday, though that didn't require Liri to do much. He'd shown the almost twenty printers and engravers the early readers that Jaym had been studying. They assured him that they could manage to recreate them, including the pictures. David had been swapping out the existing books in the library with ones from the cave, he now had one copy of every book he'd brought with him in his house. The printers would get started with the schoolbooks and then move on to the others.

There had been too many teaching candidates to get them all in one room of his house, so that meeting had taken place at one of the guildhalls. Some of the hopefuls had been eliminated simply because they had no interest in working with children. A few others had walked when he refused to give their guild exclusive rights to what they would learn. In the end he had been left with nearly seventy-five potential teachers. The first meeting had been spent going over the alphabet and basic pronunciation. Soon the printers would have copies of the early readers for each of them, then they could start learning in earnest.

Caelly stopped by to say that planning on the new castle in the forest was progressing, but other than that he had had no contact with the palace. David had been busy getting everything set up to teach people how to read, along with getting his house in order, so this hadn't bothered him. The Queen knew where he lived, she could send for him if she needed to.

Things were coming together nicely at Ilex House. Addan and Rosha had taken care of the pantry and kitchen, while Boland had filled out the stables with four additional horses. Jaym was progressing to reading full sentences, but he hadn't found him a fencing instructor yet. The young man was still proud of his new sword and carried it with him everywhere, however.

David finished his lunch and before he could get up Rosha took the dishes to the sink to wash them. It still took some getting used to, being waited on every day.

"You could always just let them go out on a date." He offered. "Maybe they'll decide they're not a good match and get it out of their system."

Rosha glared at him over her shoulder. "Would you want to put money on that? That girl's got it bad for this one. I wasn't any different at her age. I think she just likes that for once, a man might be interested, and he hasn't groped her or made a lewd comment."

She turned to face David and leaned against the sink. "I can't really blame her. I don't think she's had a single day in the last couple years where someone hasn't grabbed her ass. The dangers of going through puberty and working at an inn."

David felt for her, it wouldn't be easy balancing her profession and looking out for what was best for her daughter. He was about to tell her that when the bell for the front door rang. Rosha left the kitchen to answer it, while David sat at the table, thinking he should talk to Boland. If the caretaker wasn't interested in Liri, they might save Rosha a lot of worry over nothing.

"Master David? Could you come to the front hall please?" Rosha had come back and was waiting in the doorway to the kitchen.

He followed her down the long hallway to the front of the house. There was a uniformed man waiting for them in the foyer. David recognized him as one of the guards that had gone with them when he had shown the Queen the cave he had arrived in. The man looked a lot less comfortable down off the back of a horse.

"Hello, I'm sorry I don't remember your name from before." David said.

"It's Corval, sir. I'm sorry too, I've been sent to take you before the crown. A complaint was received by her Majesty about you." The guard stood stiffly at attention, but he sounded like he sympathized with David.

"Really? Who complained about me?" He had been expecting Lord Harsk to go straight to the Queen after he left his house. After not hearing anything for a few days, David figured maybe he had just dropped the issue and hired new people at the Leaping Horse.

"I don't know that sir, I'm just supposed to bring you to court." David had to admit, it was the politest arrest he had ever heard of.

He sent Rosha to get Jaym and headed out onto the street with Corval. A carriage was waiting out in front of the house, another guard was standing by the door. Jaym came out, breathing heavy as though he had run all the way.

"What's going on Master David? Miss Rosha said you were getting arrested!" He gasped between deep breaths.

David did his best to reassure him, "No, I don't think I'm being arrested exactly. But I do have to go to the palace, and I want you to come with me."

The two of them climbed into the carriage with Corval, the other guard sat up front with the driver. He was resistant when David attempted to get more information out of him about the complaint. All Corval knew was that he was told to bring him to the Queen.

Soon they were pulling in under the archway at the palace. David and Jaym got out of the carriage while both guards followed behind them in lockstep. Soon they were at the doors of the throne room again, only this time there was no group of hopeful suitors waiting outside. Another set of guards opened the doors to let them through. A similar crowd to the last time David was there filled the room, chattering away while he and his servant were marched down the center aisle.

Mialana was again sitting on her throne, this time in a deep purple dress with silver stitching around the hem. To David she didn't look happy, but she didn't necessarily look hostile either. The guards stopped him a few feet from the dais and stepped away to the side of the room. David bowed low to the Queen, followed by Jaym after a slight hesitation.

"Good afternoon your Majesty, your guards said you wanted to see me?" He tried to keep his tone pleasant, if he had really done something wrong, they would have put him in ropes or handcuffs.

The Queen didn't respond to his greeting, instead she motioned her chamberlain forward to speak.

"The Queen will now hear the complaint against David Winston of Am-err-icka. Lord Kenterus Harsk, as the accuser, please step forward to make your case." The man's voice echoed through the room.

The arrogant Count stepped out of the crowd and approached the dais. He had traded his usual silks for a heavily embroidered gold jacket and a ruffled shirt. He too bowed to the Queen, though not as low as David had. Mialana inclined her head a fraction of an inch in acknowledgement.

"Your Highness, this... this man has robbed me. He came into an establishment that I own and walked out with three of my workers. He is a foreigner to our city, he has no right to just steal my workers, especially without so much as issuing a request to me!" Harsk's head was slick with perspiration as he ramped up into his argument. He waved his arm at David dismissively, the lacy collar of his sleeve floated around his hand.

"He is nothing, a no-account traveler. How dare he come to this city and take money from my own pocket..."

The Queen cut him off mid-sentence, "Yes, Lord Harsk, you've been saying that for six days to anyone who will stand still long enough."

She sighed and looked at David apologetically, "Have you taken anything that is owned by Lord Harsk?"

"No! I hired one person that used to work at one of his inns to run my household. She filled out her staff with other people she knew, who also used to work at the same inn. None of them had a contract with Lord Harsk. Is he claiming he owns them?" David asked.

All eyes in the throne room turned to the irate nobleman. David waited for his answer along with everyone else. He had found out through questioning Rosha about her employment that slavery was illegal in Wellon and had been for almost five hundred years. As far as he could see, Harsk was stuck. Either he gave up on this theft nonsense, or he admitted to a crime himself if he pursued it.

Lord Harsk was thinking quickly, there had to be a way to get this slippery foreign demon. "No, of course I do not claim to own any of my employees. However, as their lord I..."

The Queen cut him off again. "As their lord you have the right to hire them and pay them whatever wages you agree upon, that is all."

She turned in her chair to look at David, "I am sorry about this. He has been bringing this complaint to the court for the last five days. I have explained things the same way every time, but he is convinced that you are somehow in the wrong because you did not ask his permission to hire them away from the inn."

David rolled his eyes, "If it'll make him shut up, I'd be happy to pay him for any lost wages until he can hire replacements."

"Done. There is your justice, Lord Harsk. Do not bother the crown with matters like this in the future." Mialana was glad to be finished with this trivial nonsense.

Kenterus couldn't believe it. Not only was this interloper not going to be punished, he had also managed to come out of it looking magnanimous, offering him full compensation. It was too much to endure. His face flushed with anger as he spoke, "It is not 'done'! I do not accept this."

"Oh, for the love of God..." David groaned.

"In the name of the Mother..." Mialana whispered on her throne.

Even the spectators in the throne room had run out of patience with the discussion. The low-level whispers had risen to the point that the chamberlain had to step forward and shout everyone down.

Harsk continued, undeterred. "This vagabond has no rights here. Ever since he arrived in this palace, he has taken every opportunity to insult me. My family have been part of the nobility of Wellon going back over fourteen generations. This peasant doesn't deserve to even look me in the eye, let alone think that he has gotten the better of me."

Mialana clenched and unclenched her hands in her lap to keep from pulling out her own hair. "Then what is it that you want, you pompous buffoon?! I have made my judgement on this matter, and unless you have forgotten, I am the Queen here."

He knew he was treading on thin ice now, there wasn't anything he could do if this was the Queen's final decision. He was too important to the realm for her to strip him of his position, but he could still be banished from the city, or have other privileges revoked. Finally, he hit upon an idea, one that even the Queen couldn't interfere with.

Lord Harsk straightened to his full height and faced Mialana directly. "I invoke the Right of Honor."

The room went very quiet at that announcement. David had no idea what that meant and a look down at Jaym told him that he didn't either. The Queen's eyes went wide with fury, this was the last thing that she wanted. Only the Lord General didn't seem fazed by the development.

"Don't be an idiot Harsk. You've already made out better than you could have hoped in this situation, Right of Honor isn't necessary here. This complaint had no business even coming before the throne and you know it." Greeg rumbled in his deep voice.

The stubborn nobleman would not be deterred. "I could not care less about money from him. He has insulted me every chance he's had, and I will have satisfaction. I have the Right of Honor and I will take it."

Greeg shook his head and stepped back to his place next to the dais. Mialana stood up in front of the throne, the silver stitching on her deep purple dress reflecting the light streaming in through the windows on the courtyard. Her face was set in a deep frown, eyes glittering in anger at Harsk.

"The Right of Honor has been invoked. Once claimed, it cannot be refused. By royal decree, it will be carried out here in the palace courtyard at noon tomorrow. May the Mother watch over the righteous." She bowed her head and everyone else in the room did the same.

The crowd headed to the exits of the throne room following the Queen's pronouncement. Harsk left with a wide grin on his face, staring daggers at David as he walked past. Mialana left through one of the doors behind the throne. Caelly followed after her, she sniffed in David's direction, then lifted her chin in the air and disappeared through the door. After a few moments only David, Jaym, and the Lord General were left in the room. The older man sat down carefully on the edge of the dais, motioning David over to him.

"Well, you really set him off more than I expected when you stood up for your little friend there." General Greeg smiled at them while he rubbed at his knees. Even though he was sitting, he was still eye level with David. "I didn't think even he was arrogant enough to claim the Right of Honor over something as trivial as this."

"All I wanted to do was hire a housekeeper." David was tired of all the accusations flying his way. Not to mention the confusion over how the legal system worked here. "What even is the Right of Honor?"

Lord General Draedon Greeg gave him a sympathetic look and breathed out slowly before answering.

"It's a duel of course." He looked David and Jaym each in the eye, "To the death."

****

The armies of the Sinton Valley marched down to the sea with Aldrich amongst them. He was riding on a small wagon with a driver assigned to him by either Greddor or Nessor, he could never remember which one was which. In the bed of the wagon behind him were piled dozens of large sacks. Big promises had been made for this adventure, and he had to be sure to deliver.

After he'd walked away from the naïve hunter it had been easy to find his way into the main city of the valley. He spent a day or two checking out various taverns. The beers there were decent, not quite like home, but better than anything he'd had in America. There was no way for him to pay for anything, whenever the subject came up, he stared down whoever was asking until it went away. People here were a lot smaller than him, and no one wanted to get him angry. They had never seen such markings on a person's hands and neck before.

On his third day in the city a couple armored men had approached him while he was sitting down to a mug of breakfast. They both had helmets, breastplates, and armored gauntlets on. To Aldrich they looked ridiculous, why would anyone wear nonsense like that? Even the guards at Buckingham Palace didn't wear that garbage anymore.

"Excuse me sir, are you the man that has been talking about Am-err-icka?" The older one asked.

Aldrich downed the rest of the mug before answering. "Yeah, I said a thing or two about getting a pint in the States. Their beer is shite, and you can't convince me otherwise, I don't care what those Yanks in America say."

The two men exchanged glances and pulled out the swords they were both carrying.

"You'll need to come with us please, sir. The Lords of Sinton Valley would like a word with you."

He didn't take too kindly to having weapons pulled on him, but he was interested to see where this was going so he stood up and left the tavern with the two men.

The two armored men marched him through the city to a heavily fortified castle that backed up to a mountain. Everything in Sinton was made of stone from the valley. The castle loomed over the rest of the city like a dark grey cloud. There was little ornamentation on the building itself, just bare stone and wood. The windows he saw had no glass in them, they were all narrow, positioned to give archers a view all the way around the castle.

Both guards walked ahead of him over an actual drawbridge. Aldrich could see fish swimming in the moat before he passed under the portcullis into the outer courtyard. He had gone on quite a few tours of historical sites when he was a kid, this place was on par with any of the forts he'd been to in Britain, aside from being a little too utilitarian for his taste.

Two large identical men wearing red capes were watching a group of soldiers train in the courtyard. Forty men in chainmail shirts stood in ranks of ten with shields and spears in their hands. A sergeant stood in front of them barking orders.

"Shields together!"

Each rank of men interlocked their shields with their spears poking up over the top of them.

"Advance!"

The courtyard echoed with the sound of marching feet as the group of men moved towards the gate.

"Halt! Reverse!"

Forty spears pointed to the sky as each soldier turned on the spot, locked their shields together again, and marched back to their original spot.

Aldrich's escorts pushed him up to the caped men overseeing the soldiers, the younger one cleared his throat to get their attention. Both men looked irritated to have their attention taken away from the practice. Aldrich couldn't tell them apart, they were both almost as big as he was, around six feet tall. The pair had matching brown hair that went past their shoulders, along with thick beards. They were wearing leather pants and boots that were well worn and comfortable looking. Their chests were covered by heavy steel breastplates, shining steel etched with a soaring falcon.

The two guards bowed low to the two men. The older one rose first and addressed the twin on the left, "Lord Nessor, Lord Greddor, this is the man that was heard talking about Am-err-icka in town."

The irritated looks disappeared after that, each man looking at Aldrich with new interest. The one called Nessor motioned the guards to leave and Aldrich was left by himself in front of the identical twins. The other one, Greddor, was the first to address him directly.

"So, you're from Am-err-icka too? Odd to have two men from a country no one ever heard of before come across our path in so short a time. Does everything you touch turn to gold too?"

Aldrich had no idea what was going on. Why would his imagination make up a bunch of nonsense about the Yanks? He couldn't stand those arrogant pricks. "I don't know who you talked to, but I'm bloody well not from America. I'm from a real country mate, England. Fuckin' Yanks think they own the whole world, well, they don't own Aldrich Covington, that's for sure. And I grew up better than most, but I sure as shite don't turn things into gold."

The question about money had touched an old nerve. For a moment he'd heard the snide comments about being posh he'd heard so many times doing jobs in the underworld. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared down both men. He'd be damned if he was going to put up with that garbage for one more second.

"England? You're not from Dal-las too? Why are you in the Sinton Valley? Are you trying to get to Wellon?" Nessor asked his questions in a rapid-fire manner.

Aldrich groaned in frustration, "Yes, England! I have no idea what Wellon is, I'm in the Sinton Valley because that's where I was dropped. And do I have a bloody cowboy hat on?!"

Everyone in the courtyard was looking their way, the soldiers were exchanging worried glances. No one talked to Greddor or Nessor that way. Their faces were turning red and the men in the front rank could see the vein in Nessor's temple starting to throb.

"Maybe we should toss you in a dungeon for a few days to calm down. Then we'll get some better answers from you." Greddor waved the guards back over to them.

Aldrich had had enough, all this bollocks about America and the Yanks was eating into his drinking time. He reached into his bag and pulled out a grenade the size of a softball. He struck a match on the side of it and there was a sharp intake of breath from the men around him. The guards stopped in their tracks, looking to their lords to see what to do. He lit the fuse on the bomb and lobbed into the air towards the grouped soldiers. It landed among them, a few scrambling out of the way when it came down. The small bomb landed with a thump on the hard packed dirt. A few of the men laughed, thinking it was a lousy attack that was easily avoided. Aldrich stared at the twins and waited.

Seconds later the grenade exploded. The initial blast killed ten of the surrounding men, while shrapnel maimed another twenty. The remaining soldiers were either knocked off their feet from the explosion or were trampled by their fellows trying to get away from the carnage.

Greddor and Nessor watched with their mouths open wide. It had taken a month to recruit and outfit this latest batch of conscripts. This foreigner had almost completely wiped them out in a handful of seconds. The guards came to their senses and grabbed Aldrich by the arms, waiting for the twins to hand out justice.

And now I'm leading a battalion of their army to war.

The two Lords of Sinton Valley hadn't been mad at him at all. In fact, he'd ended up at a feast in his honor that night, surrounded by drinks and women until the sun came up. When he'd confirmed that he had many more of the "thunder pots", he'd been welcomed like a long-lost brother. The slave girls had been brought to his room whenever he needed them, and no questions were asked about what happened to them. He'd loafed around the castle for days, enjoying a mini holiday while he waited for his ignorant hosts to take advantage of the supplies he'd brought with him. He made a couple attempts to find out more about the American they had mentioned, but no one seemed to have any information other than that he was staying in Wellon. Finally, on his fourth night in the castle the twins had brought him to a small study after dinner.

They'd shown him a map of the valley and the surrounding mountains laid out on a desk. His cave was on the southern wall of the valley, near the west end. Sinton itself was nestled in the foothills of the northern wall, further east towards the sea. The coast was a few days ride to the east. There were small fishing villages there, overseen by a towering fortress on a hill. The master of the fortress had declared his independence from the Sinton Valley and claimed all of the villages on the coast as his territory. This would have cut off the twins from sea and locked them into the valley itself. There were only a few passes in the mountains, and none of them were easy to get through.

He'd listened while his hosts explained the situation and described the layout of the main castle in the area that they were currently besieging. They were counting on him to use his "thunder pots" to end things quickly. After being told that the fortress was built on an earthen hill and not solid rock, he'd promised to do even better. He'd promised to bring the whole building down. Greddor wasn't thrilled with this suggestion, it would mean having to rebuild a valuable stronghold if he managed to do it. Nessor on the other hand was fully in favor of the idea. He thought it would send a strong message to other landholders, not to mention what would happen when word spread to other kingdoms. In the end, Nessor won out and he was told to get ready to travel to the coast.

A group of scouts had been sent ahead to prepare things for when his team got there. If they followed instructions, this whole thing would be over in a day or two and he could relax again. The other servants they'd sent out to gather what he needed had come through for him. He didn't see any reason to use up all of his own powder on one job, so he had requested all of the sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter that could be found. It was now mixed and packed into burlap sacks in the wagon behind him.

The advancing army kept the area clear of the forces controlled by the rebels. Every so often he would see bodies by the side of the road, stripped down to their underclothes. The soldiers in Sinton's army would take everything, weapons, boots, armor, and deliver it to the supply wagons. They kept what they wanted and were paid out by the supply officers for the rest. A few of their own soldiers were injured along the way, but not as many as he expected. The rebels seemed unprepared to fight an organized force.

Aldrich and his driver camped out with the other soldiers overnight. He was told the next morning as they were getting back on the wagon that they would be within sight of the fort before midday. He couldn't wait for this trip to be over. Bouncing around on a wagon, listening to hundreds of soldiers march through a forest was getting old. His driver wasn't interested in conversation, at night he found out from one of the other men that his cousin had lost an eye to Aldrich's grenade in the courtyard. It made for quite the awkward time for the two of them. He wasn't about to apologize to the man, as far as he was concerned his cousin was lucky his head was still attached to his shoulders.

His stomach was starting to rumble when the trees opened up onto sloping green hills that ran down to the sea in the distance. On a particularly high hill was a square tower keep. There were already a few hundred soldiers surrounding it, catapults spaced evenly around the fortress. A couple scouts approached them on horseback as they came out of the forest.

"The tunnel has been dug as you asked, master Aldrich. Where are the pigs?" One scout asked him.

Pig fat was sometimes used to sustain a fire under castle fortifications in the days before explosives, Aldrich knew. It wasn't nearly as effective as what he was planning.

"No pigs here, got something a lot better. Oy! You lot over there!" He yelled at a group of diggers that were resting near the entrance of a tunnel. "Start taking the bags in this wagon down to the end of the tunnel."

The sappers reluctantly formed a line to begin moving the heavy bags the half mile to the other end of the tunnel, under the castle walls. Aldrich watched them to make sure no one got to close to a lit torch. In an hour there were only two bags left in the wagon. He stopped the workers and had them move away from the tunnel and back into the trees to relax. They seemed like good natured blokes, even though they had no idea what he was actually having them do.

A man in full plate armor rode up to them while the workers sat back to rest in the shade of the trees. He had the same red cape that Greddor and Nessor always wore, another man on a horse rode behind him with a red banner that bore the black falcon of their house. The armored man turned out to be the commander of the siege.

"Are you the one my Lords were sending to end this rebellion?" The man was out of breath from riding around in the late summer heat. "We've been negotiating with the leader, but so far he isn't willing to give up the fortress. We can attack at night once those lazy fools break through inside the walls."

He started to make the digger pick up their shovels until Aldrich stopped him.

"There won't be any need to attack tonight, they've done their job. If he isn't willing to abandon the place by sundown, then I'm going to bring the whole building down on top of him. Tell him he has until then." Aldrich told the man.

The commander nodded and spurred his horse around back to the front lines. Aldrich picked up the last two bags of powder and headed into the tunnel himself. It took quite awhile to carry fifty pounds of gunpowder down a cramped twisting shaft, he was starting to think he should have had one of the diggers carry them when he reached a dead end of burlap sacks.

Lumpy bags were piled recklessly against the back wall of the dig, he had to bend over almost double to keep from hitting his head. Aldrich dropped to one knee and set a bag down in front of him. He cut a small piece from a corner with his pocketknife, picked up both bags, and turned to leave after sprinkling some powder over the pile. A thin trail formed behind him as he slowly walked back the way he came in. He'd made it almost two thirds of the way out when he had to stop and cut a hole in the second bag. His back was starting to ache from being bent over for so long and sweat was dripping off his face from the effort. Sunlight blinded him as he made it to the exit of the tunnel, he tossed the empty bag aside and shielded his eyes for a moment. Aldrich straightened up, listening to his back crack with the change in position. He wiped his forehead and continued making his trail over to where the diggers were still sitting against the trees.

A few of them came forward to see if he needed help but he ignored them. The last few grains of powder dropped to the ground, and he tossed the bag aside. Aldrich looked around and saw a few of the men had gotten a fire going to cook their dinner. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, shades of pink and red coloring the sky. He went over to the fire, taking a skin of wine from one of the workers when it was offered to him. Rabbits were being turned on a spit over the fire, dripping fat onto the coals as they cooked. Aldrich sat down and leaned against a stump, tipping the wine skin back a few times before passing it back around the circle. The sun was sinking lower and lower on the horizon, it would be behind to mountains to the west soon.

The commander rode up with his bannerman in tow just as the rabbits were being carved up and handed out. Aldrich was wiping grease off his chin with one hand and holding a leg up with the other when he noticed the armored officer heading his way. He stood up and waited to see how the final negotiations went.

"Same as before, they won't give up the fort, and they laughed when I told them we'd bring it down on top of them. I don't blame 'em, it would take a lot more than the half dozen catapults we've got here to do that much damage." He dropped down near the fire and someone handed him half a rabbit on a plate made of coarse brown bread. "Whatever you're going to do, you might as well get on with it. They won't leave unless we force them out."

Aldrich shrugged and pulled a branch from the fire. It had just been added but the end was already lit. He walked back to the end of his powder trail and dropped the flaming piece of wood. The black grains caught immediately, and the spark raced off through the grass and dirt into the freshly dug tunnel. He backed into the trees, making sure he had a good view of the tower in the distance. The diggers were uncomfortable, watching the smoking spot of fire move away all on its own. They followed him into the trees but kept their distance from him.

The building in question sat quietly on its hill a half mile away. It was a square tower, six stories high. Each corner was reinforced with heavy stone, sticking out from the rest of the building to give archers room to fire down on attackers from both sides of every wall. The army the Lords of Sinton had sent to take it back were retreating to the forest, the commander having spread the word that they would be trying something new.

Everyone waited, not sure what they should expect. Aldrich was beginning to think there might have been a break in the trail when... KABOOM!! The ground under the nearest corner of the tower exploded outward, dirt and foundation stones being launched hundreds of feet into the air. The bottom two stories on that side were consumed in the blast, huge granite blocks turned to gravel in an instant. The upper stories were lifted upwards by the shockwave, ripping stones from their mortar and weakening the surrounding structure. The stones in the air started to fall, pelting the field surrounding the castle like hail.

No one said a word. All the men around him were in shock, the soldiers still in the field were screaming and running to get away from the debris dropping out of the sky. A few of the smaller pieces landed just shy of the trees they were standing in.

There was an uproar in the crowd as the damaged corner of the fortress collapsed. The upper floors falling back into the other walls, while the lower portion slide out onto the hill. This caused a cascade as the other three walls came down, toppling onto the first one to fall. Soon everything became obscured by a massive cloud of dust escaping from every crack in the pile of rubble.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Aldrich looked around at the rest of the men around him. A few of them were looking a little green, one was even vomiting behind a tree. Even the commander looked uncomfortable at the destruction he had just witnessed. The dust was beginning to settle, there was nothing left of the castle but a mound of broken stone. It was unlikely that anyone caught inside had survived the collapse of the building.

The soldiers that had been besieging the castle were marching past them into the trees, settling down in twos and threes under the shade. More than a few of them had cuts on their arms and faces. Several more had to be carried by their fellows due to broken bones. There were some dirty looks thrown Aldrich's way, but no one dared say anything out loud, they were too frightened by what they had experienced.

Aldrich's smile stayed in place while the injured soldiers groaned around him. It had felt great to watch that fortress explode. He stepped out of the trees towards the ruin, looking past it out to sea. He'd go back to Sinton soon, either with the army or ahead of it, but he couldn't help wondering about the American that was supposedly across the ocean from him. The muscle under his right eye started twitching again.

****

"That's it, just a little faster next time."

David was in the garden behind his house with Corval and Lord General Greeg. After being challenged by Harsk, the Queen's uncle had followed him back home to try to teach him how to fight. They'd been at it all afternoon. Rosha had brought out drinks for everyone, but aside from that everyone except Jaym had stayed away.

Corval swung his sword in an overhead attack, David stepped to the side and brought his up to block it. The impact vibrated up his arms, the dull practice swords bounced off each other. He'd been doing respectably well according to the general. Corval had only managed to "kill" him twice so far. David had also managed to "kill" the guard once. All their other duels had ended in a draw or Greeg had stepped in to offer some point of instruction.

They took a break to get some water and David sat on a bench next to Jaym. The boy was nervous for his boss, but he was taking everything in like a sponge. His hands moved to mimic the actions of the older men while they dueled.

"Any idea what kind of swordsman Harsk is?" David asked.

Greeg shrugged, "He's never taken part in any fighting directly that I've seen. He sends his levies when the crown asks for them, then he stays behind while his men fight. From what I understand he's a serviceable fighter. Had all the best tutors when he was growing up, bought the best sword from the best smith... Everything you would expect from a guy like him. The only problem is, you won't be fighting him."

David set down his mug and looked at Greeg to Corval, who nodded.

"He's not wrong. The Right of Honor allows Lord Harsk to challenge you, but he doesn't have to fight you. He can name a champion to fight for him." The guard glanced at Greeg, "Some nobles feel pretty strongly about their honor, but not as strongly as they do about their lives."

"So, he can just hire the best fighter around to kill me." This practice was feeling more pointless by the minute. He looked at the Lord General for help, "Can't the Queen do something?"

"I'm afraid not. The Right of Honor is a sacred tradition. Harsk claimed it, so things will have to play out. You can always hire your own champion." The older man said.

That gave David an idea, "Would you..."

Greeg laughed in his face. "Nope. As much as I'd like to see Harsk taken down a peg or two, the Crown can't be seen to be taking sides. Having the Queen's uncle back your play sends a pretty clear message."

So much for that.

If the Queen wasn't allowed to take sides, that meant Corval wouldn't be allowed to step in for him either. David couldn't care less about his honor, or at least what Lord Harsk thought of it. He could just hire anyone that was willing to fight Harsk's champion, it didn't matter if they won or lost.

The thought of sending someone else to their death over this made him break out in a cold sweat. His only servants were Boland and Jaym, a handyman and a little boy. They wouldn't last a minute against a trained mercenary.

"What if I just refuse to fight him, or refuse to send someone else to do it?" He asked.

"Then by rule he's entitled to any compensation he sees fit. And the Crown is required to enforce it. So, you either have to face him, or pack everything up and leave Wellon as fast as you can." Corval answered and the look on the general's face told him it was the truth.

David felt himself being neatly boxed in. "Which means I get to fight the Mountain and get my head smashed to pieces."

Everyone else looked confused by that statement but he ignored them. There had to be some kind of loophole here that didn't involve sending a stranger to his death. He was relatively certain that Harsk would make sure that anyone able to beat his champion was paid off to not be available that day.

"Do I have to use a sword to fight?"

Greeg shook his head. "You can use any weapon you want. Some people prefer a war hammer or a battle axe. You're not hopeless with a blade though, you've got good instincts. You just need a lot more practice than you've got time for."

They went back to training. Corval attacked him while General Greeg moved around them, correcting David's footing or adjusting his hands to block better. Their strategy was for him to give ground while defending himself and wait for an opening. The more experienced fighters were worried he'd overstep and leave himself open if he went on the attack right away.

When the sun started to dip behind the neighboring houses they called it quits. He was as ready as anyone could be with only a few hours of training. David invited the others to stay for dinner, but they refused, saying they needed to get back to the palace. He walked them both to the door and thanked them for their help.

Dinner was a quiet event in the kitchen, with everyone wrapped up in their own thoughts. He had no appetite, but he forced himself to eat as much as he could. Liri was on the verge of tears, Boland held her hand underneath the table where they thought no one could see.

Once he couldn't take another bite, David left and headed up to his room.

He paced around his bed, wishing there was a way out of this. His weapons were laid out on the table by his bed, ready to go for tomorrow. He made sure the flintlock was cleaned and loaded. If the guy he was going to be fighting was covered in armor, he had no idea how effective it would be.

There had been the attack by the muggers when he first got here, but other than that, he hadn't needed to defend himself from anyone. Even then, he had only wanted to get away. In this life and in his old one, he'd never been in a position where he would knowingly have to kill someone. He honestly felt bad for whoever Harsk hired for the job.

It was dark outside now, the sounds of the city fading away until only a single owl or the hoofbeats of a passing horse could be heard through the window. David laid down in his bed and tried to go to sleep. Every time he came close, his brain would begin racing again with thoughts about what would happen the next day. There wasn't anything else that he could do, he'd done everything possible to prepare, but that did nothing to stop the random thoughts in his head. He finally fell asleep just an hour or two before sunrise.

When he woke late the next morning, he could hear carriages rolling along on the street outside, people going about their lives, not having to worry about duels or the "Right of Honor". He got dressed in his usual boots, jeans, and short sleeved button-down shirt. He strapped on his sword belt and then the second one that held his pistol.

In the kitchen, everyone was waiting at the table. Addan had eggs, bacon, and toast ready to go. David tried to eat, but every bite fell like lead into the pit of his stomach. When he looked around at the others, they all smiled and tried to look encouraging. He was about to push away his half-eaten plate when the bell for the front door rang. Rosha went to answer it, touching David on the shoulder as she went by. She came back a few seconds later.

"It's Corval, Master David. He's come to take you to the palace." She said quietly.

David got up from the table and went down the hallway to the front door, Jaym following close behind. The boy had strapped his sword to his back and worn his best clothes to look professional. Corval was waiting by the door, stiffly at attention.

"Master David..." Rosha had come along behind them to the front hall.

When he turned around she was fiddling with her apron, unsure what to say to him.

"You don't have to worry Rosha. I spoke with the Lord General before he left yesterday. Even if I lose, you won't have to go back to the Leaping Horse. You and Liri will stay on here to take care of the house along with Addan and Boland. Harsk doesn't care where you work, he just hates me. I'm sorry you got caught up in this." David did his best to reassure her.

His housekeeper pulled him into a fierce hug, crying over what might happen to him when he left. After a moment she backed away and looked up at him, trying to pull herself together.

"Everything will be fine Master David. We'll have dinner ready for you when you get back." With that she turned and went back down the hallway to the kitchen.

The ride to the palace was almost pleasant. They passed the wealthy residents of David's neighborhood conducting their business or chatting together happily. Corval was of course sympathetic, he asked if David had any last-minute questions about strategy. David shook his head and told him it was too late for that now.

Minutes later they were back at the palace, under the archway. The carriage came to a stop and Corval jumped out, joined by three other palace guards. Before he climbed down, David looked across the seats at Jaym, who looked confidently at him.

"It'll be alright Master David. You'll think of something." The little boy said.

I wish I had his confidence. I'm walking into a fight to the death with some jury-rigged sword lessons and a single shot pistol I don't even know will work against armor.

The guards fell into step around him, two in front and two behind. They marched to the other end of the archway that opened up into the center courtyard of the palace. It was a strange place for such an event as far as David was concerned. There were several full-sized dogwood trees and even a couple of maples. Cultivated flower gardens were arranged around each of the trees. He could hear water trickling over stone in fountains.

Queen Mialana sat on a bench near one of the fountains with most of the court around her. The ministers he remembered from the meeting were there, along with Caelly. The Queen looked nervous and as though she hadn't slept any better than David had. She was dressed in one of her usual full-length gowns, yellow this time, but there were bags under her eyes. Her right hand was held in both of Caelly's. The lady's maid looked oddly hopeful for some reason.

David's escort brought him before the Queen, and he bowed low to her. Corval announced his presence to everyone else. "David Winston of Am-err-icka, here to satisfy the Right of Honor."

From the back of the crowd Lord Harsk stepped forward. He had traded his silks and velvets for a simple leather vest and pants. They were still etched with floral patterns and of the best quality. David could almost believe that he would enter the fight himself. The self-important Count didn't wait for someone else to handle his introduction.

"Kenterus Harsk, Seventh Count of the Midlands, here to claim justice." He gave the Queen a perfunctory bow.

High Priest Colner walked out to an open space in the gardens, Harsk and David were directed to stand on either side of him. The former boxer spoke like a referee going over the rules before a big title bout.

"We are here to settle the Right of Honor, may the Mother look over the righteous. This will be a contest to the death, after which this matter will be considered settled. No revenge or vendetta will be tolerated on either side. Is that clear?"

Both men nodded.

Pold looked at David first. "David Winston, have you named a champion?"

"No, I'll be taking care of this myself." He announced.

Harsk laughed. "No champion? What more do you all need to see that my cause is just? He can't even find anyone to take up his cause for him."

The High Priest cut him off, "Pipe down Harsk. Just because you can't be bothered to ever lift a finger without paying someone to do it for you doesn't mean everyone else does. I'm guessing you have a champion; the best money could buy?"

Lord Harsk motioned to the crowd and his champion stepped to the front. He was a fit, tall man, though smaller than the Queen's uncle. He wore plate armor over his feet, arms, and legs. Steel gauntlets protected his hands while a solid breastplate covered his chest. A light purple tabard covered his armor, embroidered with a black heron. David assumed that this was the emblem of House Harsk. He carried his helmet under his left arm. A large, two-handed sword was in his right hand. David guessed he was a little older than him, maybe in his early thirties. He had shoulder length brown hair and his skin was tanned from hours out in the sun training.

"The best of my household guard, Captain Mikel." Harsk said proudly.

Lord Harsk walked back to the crowd and the guard captain took his place. Pold said a quick prayer to the Mother while David and Mikel walked out five paces in opposite directions. When they were both ready the priest went to stand by the Queen.

Mialana stood up from her bench and looked directly at David, "Begin."