A Burg’s Tale: Chapter 13

“Those accursed brigands took Thistleway’s daughter?” Lofar bellowed in disbelief before shaking his head. “This is bad.” He motioned toward his forge with a large hand. “This sword isn’t ready yet! And I know these types of fellows. They won’t take “no” for an answer.” In more ways than one, I bet, I mused darkly. “They’ll kill that girl!”

“If she’s lucky,” I agreed with a grim nod. He shot an equally dark look at me as if he fully understood the unspoken meaning behind my words. I rested one booted heel against the edge of the steps and leaned down onto my knee with my forearm. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about it, though. This is a job for some champion or warden or guardian, not me.”

Lofar grunted at me. “You’re a bloody Mumak of a Man. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the violence?”

I choked as I snorted and laughed, all at once, and then coughed with a shake of my head. “Not in the least,” I chuckled softly. “I may not go hunting the innocent for amusement, but I’m not one to shy from that sort of trouble.”

He nodded at me. “You’ll have to mount a rescue and free Kenton’s daughter, then!” He shooed at me. “Hurry now! And I’d gather friends, if I were you. I fear you’ll need them to face Blake.”

I pulled my foot down from the step and straightened. “I don’t have any friends,” I replied curtly. “I move around too frequently.” And it hurts when they betray me and I have to end them, I thought immediately before pushing the thought aside. Admitting it did me no good. A weakness was a weakness.

“I would borrow some, then,” the dwarf retorted. “I can’t very well go with you and Grimbriar’s off doing his duty to Bree. Make due with yourself if you must, but you know they’ll kill her and send pieces of her back to her father even if he does find another sword for them at this point, just out of spite for their lieutenant being killed.” He spread his hands and turned back to his work. “Maybe you can convince this Blake not to harm her.”

I snorted as I moved back to Neeker. “I doubt that. I’ll figure something out.” How much easier would all of this be if I knew other people would come with me? If I did have friends? If someone were there to watch my back so that it didn’t get stabbed?

On the other hand, if I started relying on them, how would it be when they were gone? I knew they would be, sooner rather than later.

He pointed toward the northwest. “That camp is out that way in the Bree-fields, from what Grimbriar has heard. Brigand’s Watch, it’s called, and it’s up on that hill you can see from here. If worse comes to worst, this sword should be done soon, and we can make that trade.”

If it comes to worst, I thought as I rode away, we won’t have any need of that sword at all.

As I urged Neeker into a slow gallop, I took stock of the way the land was laid out under the late afternoon sun. The Everclear Lakes were to my right, and the way I was riding in, I wouldn’t have to go through or around the biggest sections of them. Small blessings, I conceded. A stone bridge or two seemed to span the smaller arms of the lake nearest the fortification. I didn’t like that the brigands could see people coming from where they were. It would make it difficult to approach without being seen, at best. At worst, it would make it impossible to sneak in at all.

I paused under a copse of trees, one of several dotting the landscape of hills, to plan my entry. I could see a well-worn road leading up an ascending portion of the plateau ahead of me, if the way the spiked wooden barricades and walls were any indication. It was a fairly sizeable place, I had to admit, and a good setup for keeping watch on the East Road and Greenway. I rode north to go around and up the craggy, grassy hill as far as possible while searching for another entry point that wasn’t as heavily guarded but didn’t find one.

At least, not until I had passed completely around to the western side. I could see the major entry point from there with another beaten road leading into the wooden walls and found it less populated. It was also less open, overall, and I could better get in and out if needed. Stands of trees and other cover gave me enough places to watch from and to keep Neeker hidden until I needed him. I found a good place he wouldn’t easily be found, secured his reins, and let him crop grass nearby while I went forward on foot.

I waited and observed how the outlaws moved and the paths they took doing it. I didn’t want them surprising me. Once I had what seemed to be a good idea of who went where and when they did so, I slipped up the road and then into the fortified encampment. I couldn’t do anything to these people yet. The route into the camp didn’t allow for much hiding of bodies. Or hiding at all, for that matter. I had to sneak quickly and work the same, dodging a sentry by following them far too closely and then moving around them when they turned, more than once. To say that I was sweating by the time I got into the camp would be an understatement, even as the oncoming early evening helped draw some longer shadows for me to obscure myself within.

It was only there that I could reasonably find hiding places and deal with the brigands standing around their fires or moving through the area. I came from behind the women and men as they paused to rest near tents or other large objects, silenced them, and snapped their necks or left them unconscious rather than slit their throats. Too much blood would be a sure alarm. It might be more believable that they were trying to sneak in a nap somewhere out of sight if I positioned them properly and they were somehow found before I managed to get out again.

I didn’t see Maribell Thistleway in the main section. Off to my left, after I had moved further within, stood a wooden arch leading into another, and what seemed to be smaller, set of cul-de-sacs. Waiting for the latest set of guards to move past, I stole forward, peered just inside the entrance, and then moved around to use the large cage inside as a shield. I knew the woman inside had to be who I needed to rescue.

Waiting another few minutes to make sure that it was safe, I finally crept around until the woman could see my mask and I could see her as much as possible. “Are you bound?” I asked in a bare whisper, my attention still on our surroundings.

She didn’t speak loudly in return, for which I was grateful, when she answered, “No. Are you from my father?”

“I am.”

Her tone was breathy and relieved. “Thank you, thank you!”

I fell silent and so did she as a guard came closer to the entrance. I pulled back to become part of the scenery once again as the brigand man paused to speak with a woman holding a bow who passed nearby. They didn’t seem in any hurry, yet their conversation lasted perhaps five minutes before they parted, laughing, to continue on their ways. Only then did I ease forth so that she could see me. I regarded the door and narrowed my eyes at the lock. It would take me a while to pick the thing. “Have you seen who has the key to this?” I asked her almost hopefully. “I’ll find them and retrieve it.”

 “No need,” she said and produced it so that she could slip it toward me through the bars. “I filched the key a while ago, but I was too scared to use it. Now, with you here, I can use it, and we can escape.”

I took the key and found myself smirking. “Clever girl.” I found myself almost rumbling it in appreciation. “You might just have a career as a burglar if you get some training. Let me know if you do.” I palmed the thing and withdrew again to let another set of figures pass by. I only returned and unlocked her cage door once it was safe to do so again.

She stared up at me wide-eyed, startled as many were by my height and the mask, before I told her, “To the west. I have a horse.” I pointed in the direction I wanted her to go. “Let’s hur–“

I didn’t get to finish before she paled and hurried back toward one corner of the walled enclosure. “Oh no!” she cried. “They’ve heard us!”

I cursed as I didn’t have time to do more than draw my blades before two brigands charged in from the adjoining room. Nobody in the main one had come in or noticed just yet, thankfully. “Then we fight,” I growled and engaged the duo of outlaws as they tried to get to Maribell. They were tough opponents, more so than others of their kind I had faced in the last few days, but the last one fell as his blood slid from the edge of my long blade. I nodded at her. “Move,” I hissed.

“Hopefully we can get away before Blake notices!” she said as she began to hurry toward the arch leading out.

“Stop them!” a man bellowed from inside. Another pair of them rushed forward with weapons drawn. Maribell gave a little scream and covered her eyes as she cowered in the corner once again. The taller of the duo had a better class of armor and clothing than the other one racing ahead to get to me first. “Afternoon, Blake,” I taunted as they closed with me. “I’ll be stealing this pretty little thing from you, now.”

“You’ll die like a dog,” he corrected as I ducked and dodged their strikes. A dagger planted itself in his subordinate’s throat to even the odds slightly.

“Only if you catch this hound to do it,” I replied smugly. A slash; a stab. I ducked, rolled, and came up behind him to land a sharp thrust into his lower back below his ribs before moving away again. He staggered toward Maribell with a muffled cry and, upon noticing her in reach, snarled at her with the intent to attack her instead.

He knew he was mortally wounded. He had no last words to his actions yet had made it obvious that she was going to die with him. I went in and dropped, sweeping his legs out from under him so that he fell backward, and ended his life with a knife in the throat even as his own weapon lifted to block it. I pulled the knife from him, cleaned it on his thigh, and returned both of my long knives to their sheaths. I moved to reclaim my throwing dagger from one of the others, did the same, and tucked it away as I moved for the exit.

Maribell said, as she passed me, “Quick! Follow me! With Blake dead, we can make our escape!”

“I’m right behind you.”

It took approximately five seconds before some of the figures in the large, open space spotted us running for the exit. My pruning of their numbers earlier helped keep the attacking brigands from overwhelming me as I defended and protected the young woman. Once we had raced down the slope leading out, I led her to where I’d hidden Neeker earlier. I didn’t need to tell her to or help her mount the saddle, much to my pleasure. Getting up behind her would be difficult if it weren’t for the nearby tree leaning over. I used it as a means of leverage to leap onto Neeker behind her before snugging her against me and kicking him into a fast gallop to the south and east. Sharp cries followed our path as we were discovered.

Maribell’s smaller form pressed warm and tight against my front felt uncomfortable for some reason I couldn’t define as we rode for Bree. I kept one arm wrapped around her waist just in case of trouble and the other hand on the reins while shielding her from potential archers with my own form. Neeker definitely had a bit of speed to him, for which I was grateful, and we didn’t slow until I had the gates in sight. She pointed out where she lived, and I let the gelding walk there to cool off from his sprint. I loosened my hold on her as soon as it was safe to do so since I didn’t want her to think the wrong thing.

We hadn’t had time to chat during the rescue. She remained very quiet for several minutes before offering, “Thank you. I don’t know your name.”

“Morchandir,” I replied politely.

She frowned and turned her head to look over one shoulder at me. “Is that… Elvish? I didn’t think you were an Elf.” She then added, “Or at least, I didn’t see any ears like theirs and I don’t know of any that are as tall as you are, not even in stories.” She hesitated. “I’m Maribell.”

I smirked behind my mask. “My ears are covered, but no, I’m not an Elf. I’m a Man.”

She faced forward once again. “Thank you, Morchandir,” she repeated decisively, emphasizing my name as if rectifying the lack of it earlier.

I made a low sound of acknowledgement. “Don’t worry about it. Your father sent me, and I admit, I’ve never felt guilty about fighting and killing someone that so obviously needed it as that Blake fellow.” A thought occurred to me then. “You don’t need to see a healer, do you? You don’t look hurt, but if you are…”

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Only bruises and scrapes, really. Nothing that a hot bath, a little balm, and a couple of days won’t fix. Thank you for asking, though.” I kept my free hand at my side or on my thigh rather than on her. “I know this wouldn’t have happened had my father not run afoul of those brigands. I’m sorry that you were pulled into this mess.”

I chuckled slightly. “To be honest, it seems like problems I shouldn’t feasibly have any interest in or involvement with keep being thrown at me so that I have to sort them out. This ending has been much better, and far easier, than the last thing I had to handle a day or so back, trust me. I may not be used to the idea of rescuing kidnapped daughters and fighting evil Men and dwarves, but I do know that it’s preferrable to slinking through the Barrows killing wights.” I added as an afterthought, “And constantly finding myself wet from water.” And getting one silver fifty copper for my pains.

She twitched at my words. “The Barrows?” she asked in a hushed tone. “What were you doing there, Morchandir?”

“Stealing things and killing people,” I replied drolly. “It’s my usual method of making a living, you understand.” My tone moderated. “Though that particular instance wasn’t for personal gain.” And I’m finding the lack of guilt afterward to be a refreshing change, I finished mentally.

She fell silent again and her slight tension against me spoke of her uncertainty. I couldn’t see her features to know what, exactly, had her feeling that way. That she didn’t seem afraid of me, towering and masked and black-garbed, told me more about her than any words she might have spoken. Then again, I reasoned, she was just in a bandit camp full of people wanting her dead and ready to make good on that promise at any given moment. Better the savior with a strange appearance than the known death awaiting her.

She finally offered to me, “Why were you stealing things from the graves? I don’t think that’s a very good thing to do. Plenty of folks try it and get killed out there. I don’t know that I feel completely awful about it. It’s not theirs to take and the legitimate owners have every right to defend it.” Her voice faltered. “Even if they’ve been dead for a hundred years.”

“It was one grave,” I replied with an odd surge of defensiveness. “And the wight inside had stolen what was there from its rightful owner. He asked me to return it.”

She again turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. “He… did? How?”

I gestured with my free hand. “Taking it is what set him wandering. And his brother, here in Bree. I had to get it back from the evil wight hiding out inside his tomb so that I could bring it back to his brother and they could both rest again.” I amended after, “Well, after I had put down what was forcing them to all walk around again, at least. Bombadil helped at the end out in the Great Barrow…”

She made a small sound and shook her head frantically. “No, no, that’s enough! I believe you!” Her hands flailed in frightened, frantic gestures. “I think I would’ve preferred to be in the cage at the camp instead of there, honestly!”

I grunted in agreement. “If I see another dead thing walking around, I may just break down,” I told her with vague amusement. “You don’t know how happy I am that your captors aren’t sorcerers or fell spirits or hiding in tombs at this point. Or dwarves. Though there is a dwarf involved in this whole thing. Lofar Ironband. Do you know him? He’s that Chief Watcher Grimbriar’s friend.”

“Ahhh. Right.” Her voice dropped. “One dwarf looks similar to another, to me. I’m rather ashamed to say so. Elves, too.”

“What about hobbits?”

She snorted slightly in a small laugh. “They don’t let you see them all as the same. You may not even see them at all, tiny as they are, unless they show you how much personality they really have.”

Thinking on the hobbits that I had met thus far, I had to agree. “Mm. True. Right, so, which way now?” A split in the cobbled street approached just ahead of us. She pointed and I picked up the pace a little with Neeker.

When we arrived at her family’s home, I slid from the saddle first and offered my hands up to her to help her down. “Will you let me see your face?” she asked as she turned toward me. “Wearing that mask all the time must be itchy and terrible, Morchandir. But I do want to see who really rescued me.”

“I wear it so that I don’t offend people,” I told her. “I’m not the best-looking chap and definitely not a hero.”

She hmphed and glowered at me. “All the same, it’s all that I ask before you go. Well, almost.”

Women. I grimaced as I removed it, knowing very well that I would ruin her romantic dreams when I did. She was probably expecting some strong-jawed, cleft-chinned man like in the stories rather than the tall, hatchet-nosed ogre who really saved her – under duress, no less. Holding the mask in one hand, I used the other to ruffle through my dark hair. “Better?” I grated out while trying to not roll my eyes. I definitely refused to look at her to see the disappointment I knew would be there.

“Better.” Her voice was faint. After a moment, Maribell moved to dismount and I had to look up at her. Tucking the mask into my waist momentarily, I reached up again to help her as politely as I could given the situation. She glanced at my hands, paused, and leaned down without warning to press a kiss against one of my cheeks. She then grabbed my shoulders firmly, slid off Neeker without my help, and slipped off toward the opening door. I blinked and then stared after her as color rushed to my face. It was just a thanks, I argued silently. Don’t read into it!

Clearing my throat, I secured the mask where it needed to be around my features as Maribell and her mother hugged and wept at her return. As I remounted, I heard her mother call, “Thank you, sir! Thank you for bringing her home! Eru bless you!”

He hasn’t so far; why start now? I wanted to reply and didn’t. I merely nodded, saluted at them flippantly, and then turned Neeker around to head back out to where Lofar remained. “I probably shouldn’t be blushing when I tell her father she’s safe,” I muttered to Neeker as he trotted through Bree. Killing him for trying to kill me for flirting with his daughter might not be the romantic end to things that anyone hoped for.

When I pulled to a halt at Grimbriar’s cabin, Lofar was already aware of my return. The area outside of Bree was spacious enough that he could see me coming from quite a distance – and see me rushing through along the main road earlier with Maribell, too.

He hailed me and I responded, “Blake’s dead and the girl’s safe at home. Things should be quiet, now.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you won’t need the new sword, then!” He then continued with a hearty, “Aye, good tidings!” The expression he wore seemed satisfied. “Glad no harm came to the lass.” He bustled over to a bucket and took a bit of time to visit the nearby well and draw out some cool water. When he returned, he offered it to Neeker after pulling a ladle full for himself and me. I declined and let the gelding only have a little while he rested.

Lofar set the bucket aside and continued. “While you were away, I went over and collected the work from Kenton, and I must say that I think that Man has the hands of a dwarf.” That would be unfortunate, given the size difference, I nearly said. I bit my tongue and smirked all the same. “The work was excellent quality, so much so that I think I’ll get double for it. I told him he could expect more work from me in the future.” He smacked his lips from within his beard and tucked his thumbs behind his belt. The self-satisfaction on display had my eyes rolling in truth. “Seems my kind heart led me to a good find.” He then added quickly, “Thanks to you, that is.”

“Oh, I’m a regular treasure-hunter, I am,” I drawled lazily. “Take care, Lofar. I’m off to let Thistleway know he doesn’t have to worry any longer.”

The ride seemed shorter than before, for some reason, but Kenton immediately cheered and waved an arm at me as he spotted my approach. “Morchandir!” he hailed me joyously. “Oh, bless you!” He reached out for my hand as soon as I dismounted, took it in both of his own, and shook it desperately. “You’ve returned my daughter safe to me! I can’t thank you enough!”

I regarded him in confused amusement as he released my hand. “How did you find out so quickly? I just left your daughter with her mother in Bree not long ago, talked to Lofar, and didn’t see anyone pass by on the Greenway.”

“You’re here, without anything of hers, without her body, hale and hearty…” He motioned. “And no brigands have come looking for me to threaten me or taunt me with her dead form. I know you’ve succeeded even without seeing her for myself!”

I nodded. “She’s well and unharmed, as far as I could see.” I turned after a moment. “No need to thank me. It’s getting late, though, and I’m thinking we’ll have to head back to Bree soon to be safe.”

“Nonsense,” he stated firmly. “You’ve done so much for me, in more ways than you know!” I paused to look back at him, confused, and he continued. “While you were away, I busied myself with Lofar’s work.” He grimaced. “I had to do something to keep from being overcome with worry. No sooner had I finished the work, than Lofar came over to collect it. He seemed pleased with it — even admitted that it came close to dwarf-work! He promised to send me more work in the future!” He beamed at me. “Morchandir, you’ve saved my family and given me a hope for a brighter future. I can’t thank you enough!”

He fished out some money from one of his pouches and offered it to me. “Here, this is what I have on me for now. A silver and eighty copper isn’t much, but I know what else could be.” He set it forcibly into my palm and closed my fingers over it when I made to reject his offer. “Lofar and I discussed the matter while he was here. He has some light armor he meant to sell soon.” He nodded up at me. “On the way back to Bree, we’ll stop by and speak with him so that he can give it to you. I don’t suppose he wanted to do so until I told you what we’d planned, since I don’t see it with you right now.”

I stared at him in silence for several long moments. “Give me…?” I finally echoed, stunned. I hadn’t been gifted with something of that much worth in… years, to be honest. I rocked back onto my heels slightly as my heart did a funny little twisting beat in my chest. “You don’t have to, Thistleway. You or the dwarf. I’m hardly worth—”

He clapped me on the upper arm. “You helped everyone in this work site by getting rid of those bandits. You helped me correct my mistake with Lofar and saved my daughter’s life. You helped him find a new smith to help him with his work. That armor is the least we can do to repay you.” He nodded slightly. “Let me bank these fires so we have something to work with tomorrow morning and I’ll ride into town with you to go see him. The foreman is already signaling for us to wrap up for the evening as it is.” I watched him work for a few moments before the question sat itself in my head and refused to leave before I uttered it. “It’s not… shiny armor… is it?” I finally asked with a twitch up of my lips, knowing it almost certainly wasn’t – but bemused at the idea all the same.