Due to my heroics in Reims, the warband began to accept that I had become a man. I turned seventeen before we left Metz, and on my birthday Godke gave me his sword as a gift.

‘You handle it better than I,’ he said, and I thanked him. He had given me his weapon even though he knew that one day I would use it to kill him. Or perhaps he was simply discarding it because he thought he could defend himself better with a different sword.

Godke also told me that I had done an exemplary job in Reims. He said that a less skilled witch hunter would have missed the opportunity to obtain an early confession but that I had leapt upon it. I accepted his praise, but in reality Godke was the one deserving of it: I had only been putting his own words into practise.

The game we play with the Devil takes place not only in the body, but in the mind.

I renamed the sword, forging it a new identity with the name Joyeuse. It was a French name, which pleased Fleur, but I called it that because I had become a man in France and Joyeuse was a symbol of my manhood. The name was taken from the sword of Charlemagne, a man who spent much time in France and Germany as I had.

Joyeuse had a Sinclair hilt, which was a type of basket-hilt known for the triangular metal plate over the basket that was designed to protect the hand from direct blows. The grip was leather-wrapped and it was over three feet long.

I practised with the sword often, wanting to ensure that I would not let anyone down in a fight. Godke purchased for himself a new sword and I wished I had the money to buy a pistol to complement my weapon, as Godke and Thies had.

A few weeks after the events of Reims, we finally decided to clear Hurland’s belongings from Ros’ carriage. Most of his possessions were books, and I laid claim to several that he had used to teach me to read. Many of the books were in Latin, but those that were in French or German I kept. The rest were sold or burned. I believe that Jacob donated some to orphanages, though what use illiterate peasant children would have for Latin texts I do not know.

I kept the books in my house and piled them in a corner. Some days I would come home to find Fleur reading them. On one occasion when I walked through the door held the book up to me, in a gesture that I should read the book aloud to her. I dearly wanted to oblige her, but to do so would have revealed my difficulty with reading. Hurland had improved upon my father’s skills and I could read to myself, albeit slowly, but to recite the words aloud at a reasonable pace was beyond me. I told Fleur that I couldn’t read well enough to read to her, and she wrote that I should learn. She was right: not only was reading a very useful skill, it was especially important for as long as I was living with a mute girl.

From that point, every day when I came home, she’d retrieve one of my books and hand it to me for me to read to her. At first, I stumbled across some words, but I persevered for Fleur. I liked to see her gentle but expressive smile. With her patience and some persistence I soon became fluent in interpreting both French and German, and I got to see that smile nearly every day.

Hurland also had a spare set of leather body armour which would serve to deflect glancing blows against my torso. The rest of the warband wanted to sell it, but I split a lower-than-market price for the armour to make it my own and they realised that if the vest saved my life one day then they would have made a better profit than the market at Metz could afford to. Fleur smiled when she saw me wearing it, which made me feel like a strong, dashing warrior.

One night, I told her how I used to go to a grassy knoll outside the city and watch the people who visited the city. She wanted to go with me, but I told her what had occurred between Melchior and Hurland. Fleur asked me to find a way to take her outside of the city, and at first I refused. However after several weeks or even months she wore down my walls and I asked Konrad if the rule was still in place.

'What does it matter to you?' he replied. 'You're no longer a boy.'

'I'm afraid Melchior will come seeking the money that Hurland never paid.'

'He will have no right to it,' Konrad said. 'The penalty was a choice between a fine and exile and Hurland chose the latter.' I did my best not to break his gaze when he said that. 'You are no longer bound by any penalty or by any restrictions about leaving the city. Though I wouldn't use the cattle gate again if I were you – not that you could. It's been properly sealed.'

'He may bear a grudge.' Truth be told I was somewhat afraid of the town guard captain. His pursuit of me the previous year had been vicious and had cost me dearly. I was not convinced that he would just let me be.

'He will have no legal grounds upon which to restrict you. You may leave the city at will. Albeit for no reason that I can discern.'

'I just like to wander,' I said non-specifically, and he frowned.

'I'm on the main gate in the morning for the next two weeks at least,' Konrad said. 'If you're concerned, leave through the main gate so I can keep an eye on you.'

I smiled. 'Thanks.' I didn't know Konrad very well, though he had always been kind to me in the past. After Melchior's displays, Konrad had restored my perception of the town guard. I left and sought Fleur, and told her that I'd be taking her out of the city tomorrow.

The sun rose the next day, and after breakfast I took Fleur by the hand and led her to Konrad's post at the city gate. He smiled knowingly when he saw Fleur at my side, and let us pass. At first, we sat atop the knoll as I had done in my youth. We had foolishly brought no food, though in the hours before hunger beset us we stood and danced in the meadow. I had not originally been keen on the idea, but Fleur showed me that it could make us just as close as any other form of intimacy. Without anyone to watch my missteps, I began to enjoy it.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

We resolved to go again the next day. Fleur really was feeling cramped in the city, and in retrospect I guess it's not surprising that she wanted to enjoy her freedom now that I'd given it to her. The next morning, Konrad was not the only familiar face at the city gate. Melchior was also present, and I breathed deeply as I approached him.

'Good morning,' I said as casually and evenly as I could. I didn't slow down, but kept walking with Fleur in tow in the hopes that I would not be stopped. I was to be disappointed.

'Halt,' Melchior commanded me, and in protest I walked several more steps before stopping. 'I said halt.'

I tried to remember that he was an officer of the town guard and forced myself to speak without inflection. 'Is something the matter?'

'What is your business leaving the city?'

I looked at Fleur. 'Just going for a walk.'

'I do not approve of your going for a walk,' he replied with a sneer. Any pretense of respect I'd maintained until that point I dropped now. 'You, who enjoyed the benefits of childhood when you would otherwise have been accused of sabotage, and who now enjoys the benefits of adulthood when you would otherwise be unable to take your woman outside of the city.'

'I do not seek nor require your approval, Melchior,' I said, standing to my full height and staring him in the face. I had left my sword at home, not thinking that I'd need it. I regretted that decision presently, though there were enough soldiers there to ensure that I'd die quickly if Melchior decided to attack me.

His sneer became a snarl as he spoke. 'I am the leader of the city's soldiery. You are no one. Nothing. And you will not leave the city without my approval.'

'Did I do you some disservice?' I asked him. The veneer of protecting Metz had been cast aside with his last statement, revealing nothing short of hatred for me. Generally I got along with people or else I rode away from them, oftentimes carrying their valuables. That option was not available to me now, as Metz was my home. I had to solve this problem, one way or another, if I wanted to remain in the city.

'You have done Metz a disservice, and I am Metz,' he replied. Konrad was stepping forward to listen to what Melchior was saying, though the other guards were looking away. Deliberately. 'You and your brethren bring your German tongue, your rogueish attitudes, and your evil trade to my city, and you allow an old man to suffer for your perversion of the law. You should have left with him. I will not suffer a fool twice.'

I knew not what to say, I was so shocked by his vitriol. I knew that I could be reckless and unthinking, but always Godke or Hurland had shielded me from the consequences of my actions. Fleur let go of my hand and walked backwards several steps. I sensed that she wanted me to follow her back to the house, but I would not back down. I was a man, a warrior, and Melchior was in the wrong here.

'You will suffer my passage to and from this city as I please,' I replied. I turned away from Melchior after I spoke, reaching my hand out for Fleur to rejoin me so that we might show our disregard for his authority by leaving Metz. Due to this movement I was unprepared for Melchior's tackle, which cast me to the ground.

Truth be told, it was more of a body than a tackle. Melchoir wrapped his arms around me and impacted me with his pectorals, crushing me into the dirt. My head flung back with the unexpected impact, and I managed to roll out from under Melchior before he could recover from the fall. I tried to take to my feet again, but he leapt at them and bound my ankles together in the crook of his arm. I dug my fingertips into the dirt and tried to pull away from him, but he was too heavy.

Melchior was soon atop me, straddling me and turning me onto my back with his superior strength. I struggled futilely, but once he was atop me he began to strike me in the face. I raised my arms to protect myself and the strikes slammed into my wrists and hands. I felt Melchior's balance shift and opened my eyes to see Fleur trying to topple him, but Melchoir turned to her and gave her such a shove that she was sent stumbling back several feet before falling onto the ground. I tried to use the distraction to rise but Melchior began striking me again with single-minded purpose. The fight – if you could call it that – had taken place in an eerie silence, as the other guardsmen refused to notice it and Fleur was unable to call for help. I realised this between blows to my forearms and began to shout for help, at which point Melchior reached to his belt and unsheathed his sword.

'Attacking a man of the city does not end well, boy,' he said, raising the sword. I raised my bruised arms instinctively, knowing that they'd offer little protection against the lethal swing of the sword. Fleur stood back in fear, wanting to help me but too afraid of Melchior and his weapon to try again.

I though to myself that this was not how I'd expected to die. I was fighting over a tiny knoll that held little more than memories and Fleur's happiness. I'd often considered that, like Godke, I'd meet God at the end of a pike or gun barrel while fleeing from a dead witch's town. It hardly seemed worth it. I should have just let Melchior have his damned gate.

I closed my eyes as Melchior began his downward swing, but reopened them at the deafening clash of blades inches above my head. A second sword had blocked Melchior's from connecting with me, and looking up I could see that it belonged to Konrad. Melchior was surprised by the intervention, and I tried to roll away once more. Melchior turned his attention back to me and swung again before I could escape, but this time Konrad sliced his sword through Melchior's calf. The captain's strike faltered even as it began, and he staggered away to collapse on the ground towards the rest of his men. I noticed they were watching now, their gaze drawn either by the burst of speed that Konrad would have needed to generate in order to intervene as he did, or by the clash of metal on metal. As Melchior writhed in pain on the ground, two of the soldiers went to his side.

The other two drew their swords and advanced on Konrad.

I jumped to my feet, my wrists aching from the beating they'd received. Fleur ran beside me in support, for which I was grateful. 'Stop! Konrad was only helping me!'

For his part, Konrad held his sword ready and was eyeing off his former comrades. At my words, he relaxed and sheathed his weapon. 'That is no reason to strike a superior,' he said, and the two soldiers grabbed him by each arm and led him away.

I wisely decided against visiting the knoll that day and let Fleur take me back to our home. She did not seem scarred by what she had witnessed, but she certainly didn't want to tempt fate by trying again. I wanted to find Konrad and tell him that I was sorry for the mess that I'd landed him in. I felt awful that I had pushed Melchior to attack me and cost Konrad most certainly his livelihood, and quite possibly his life.

If necessary I would break him out of his cell and help him to escape Metz.