The inside of a blacksmith shop [https://i.imgur.com/QG4M3c2.png]

THE SMITHY

Monte's mind was racing. Before he had looked up they had made it to the buildings on the outskirts of the village. Nobody had spoken a word the entire walk back.

Monte didn't know where he was headed next. A Guard cell? A show trial in the village? Maybe he would be set free, but that seemed the least likely. The look Mavlo game him could have meant anything. Monte was confident the Company had been tipped off. Monte saw the camp with his own eyes last night. Then the seamstress was robbed around an hour before they arrived. How could the Company make the trip back, dismantle the camp, and clear out so quickly? The timeline didn't add up.

Could they have simply moved to a new camp after Monte discovered them? He remembered the tracks leading from camp back towards town. If they were closer to town, one of their party would have seen the new camp. Most likely the cat. Maybe they just brought everything into town with them? Monte thought that would be reckless, but it was the Company. The same person who alerted them to clear out might have made sure they wouldn't be caught.

"I'm going back to the market. Need to wrap up a few things." Terran broke the silence.

They had made it close to the town center. It was now late into the afternoon and fewer people were on the street. Terran didn't look back at them and peeled off in the direction of the market. Mavlo said nothing and kept walking in the direction of the Guard station. Monte and Mavlo had almost made it back when Mavlo finally spoke up.

"We don't have much time, lad. Let's get your sword. Mine too." Mavlo didn't look back when he said it and started walking noticeably quicker.

"Our swords? I'm not being locked up?" Monte was relieved and confused. At this Mavlo turned and gave him a scowl.

"We need to get to the blacksmith shop before they do." Mavlo said, turning back and ignoring Monte's question.

Mavlo had a plan now, and Monte knew he was a part of it. He didn’t know who 'they' were yet, but he had a good guess.

Back in the Guard station, Mavlo retrieved Monte's blade from the drawer, along with his own standard issue Guard broadsword. Monte grabbed his pack and saw the ledger was missing from the desk. That ledger contained something Mavlo could understand but Monte still couldn't. Even so, Monte was putting the pieces together.

"The seamstress was named in the book, and not crossed out. The blacksmith too." Monte said.

Mavlo secured the belt across his shoulder and buttoned his jacket all the way to the collar. Monte noted he suddenly looked the part of a Guard member, complete with the grave knowledge of what his duty entailed.

"You're one of the worst trackers I've ever met. But not completely hopeless as a Guard." Mavlo half grinned as he said it.

Monte was taken aback. Hadn't he found the tent marks? Truthfully, it had been the cat, but Mavlo couldn't have known that. Monte was even more surprised that Mavlo referred to him as a Guard. He had trained to be one but was never officially designated. The business with his father and the noise around it kept him from it.

"I can see why those boys in the Capitol want to work with you." Mavlo let out a full grin and quickly swallowed it.

"But they denied they were working with me. They said so in the message." Monte replied.

He was still a little upset that his Academy mates who now worked in the Capitol hadn't covered for him. Monte eyed the messy desk, looking for the official note. This time he saw there were several, and they all looked the same.

"That was a bluff. I know the Guard does all manner of underhanded things all the time. I couldn't know for sure if you were telling the truth. I needed to know if I could trust you." He presented Monte with his sword again.

"That's why you asked me for my sword. If I was trying to hide something I never would have handed it over." Monte said, accepting his sword and strapping it onto his back.

"Turns out, you were mostly telling the truth. And I think I can mostly trust you." Mavlo said slyly.

Monte realized now he had read Mavlo all wrong. Last night in the tavern, Mavlo was just an unnamed village elder with a prickly attitude. Mavlo really cared about the village and was under just as much pressure to end the robberies as Terran, likely a lot more. Mavlo made no assumptions about Monte and went about proving his hunches like a veteran Guard should. Monte had a lot to learn. A small piece of himself was enjoying this. It was a rush, hunting down clues to solve crimes. Monte knew the same was true for Mavlo. This is why people like them joined the Guard.

"You could tell right away who had yet to be robbed. But that doesn't explain how you knew it was the seamstress when Terran busted in here earlier?" Monte asked. He was still trying to figure out what he was missing.

"Another bluff. Today's been my lucky day, let's hope it keeps up huh?" Mavlo spoke gravely. Monte assumed that wasn't the whole story, but he knew better than to press the issue right now.

Suddenly the gravity of what they had to do occurred to him. It must have hit Mavlo too. Mavlo headed out the door into the fading late afternoon light without waiting for Monte. Those wheel tracks were pointed back toward the village. The Company was going to commit the last robbery and leave from here. It was all happening tonight at the Blacksmith's shop.

"Of course." Monte said it out loud, coming back into reality.

Mavlo was out the door but must have heard. As Monte left and closed the door behind him, Mavlo turned over his shoulder with an expectant look.

"Of course, what?" Mavlo asked. Monte assumed whatever he was about to say Mavlo already knew.

"They worked with Terran because he controls the market. Terran might be selling stolen goods from out of town without even knowing it." Monte said, now confident.

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"Oh lad, he knows. He knows. And as soon as the village knows, there will be hell to pay." Mavlo remained grave, he was staring at the ground as he walked.

Monte was silent for a long moment. The tavern meeting last night between the two men must have been Mavlo's last attempt to end the robberies. Monte guessed there had been similar meetings leading up to this. Before so much damage was done.

"Neera told me the villagers weren't happy about the new fish monger. Says the quality isn't what it used to be. And Terran is the one bringing them in." Monte recounted his conversation in the market.

"They're not all with the Company, officially, but they are all on the take. Pretty soon nobody in the market will be interested in anything but money." Mavlo said. Monte noticed him slightly shaking his head.

No wonder the theft of one little fish caused such a scene this morning.

"You did get the cell ready, but not for me." Monte said. Mavlo looked back at him. For a split second he showed a grin and his eyes widened, then he was back to a sullen grimace.

Without having it explained to him, he understood the plan. They were going to the only remaining business the Company planned to rob. When the Company arrived they would take them into custody. Monte found the ledger at their camp. Mavlo decided that was enough proof. There were only two names not yet struck through in the book. If they didn't get to the blacksmith first, they would be walking into the middle of a robbery. This time Mavlo and Monte were armed, but it would still be two against four.

"If things get ugly…" Monte thought to himself.

The sun was starting to set. If the Company got away tonight, an entire Guard platoon wouldn't be able to find them.

"Let's hope your luck hasn't run out." Monte said it out loud. Mavlo didn't respond, though Monte knew he was thinking the same thing.

It didn't take them long to get to the smithy. The blacksmith was nowhere to be found. By all appearances they had beaten the thieves. Still, they proceeded with caution. Monte tried the door and found it was unlocked.

"Must already be in the tavern, the fool." Mavlo seemed more distraught than upset. Another body on their side would have been useful in the moments to come.

Monte entered the smithy. It was warm, the great pot-bellied furnace had obviously been running all day. The large doors that opened to let air flow in when the blacksmith was active were now shut for the night. Weak beams of evening light cascaded from the clerestory windows. Even with the light from the forge, only the first ten or so feet of the workshop were visible. The back corners were already in total darkness.

Monte took it all in, the smell, the heat, the glow of the forge. Seeing the inside of a blacksmith shop, even a somewhat crude one like this, placed him back in the shop with his father. This was the wrong time for misty nostalgia he knew, and he pushed the memories away for later.

Everything seemed to be in its place as Monte scanned the room, aside from a few tools out of order or missing. Then he saw it. Tucked away but not quite out of sight was a cart, stacked high with cheap leather trunks. There was no mistaking them. They were the same ones Monte watched the Company men filling with the village's goods the night before.

"Mavlo, over here." Monte hissed into the quiet.

As Monte issued the words he felt it again. That same feeling he'd had in the tavern, and at the market. He was being observed. He turned to look at the door and Mavlo was inside, still getting his bearings. Suddenly out of the darkness a figure approached and swung what looked like a heavy set of pincers. Their blow connected with Mavlo's head. He fell to the ground without a sound. Monte's fears were confirmed, they hadn't beaten the Company after all.

The time had come to fight. He didn't want to, but now there was no other choice. Monte reached for his sword but stopped before drawing it. It would give too much away if he showed these men his father's blade. Not to mention, the sound of its wailing would make it difficult to hear anyone attempting to take him by surprise.

Next to the furnace there was a long hammer and a cast iron poker in a barrel and Monte grabbed them instead. Instinctively, he tossed the poker into the fire. He cast a glance toward Mavlo and saw the assailant had disappeared into the shadows.

"I knew the lad wouldn't be too pleased we'd found it." A voice, strangely familiar, pierced through the silence like an arrow.

Monte put his back to the large doors. He could see in front of him, barely. At least here the Company men couldn't attack him from behind. He held the hammer with both hands at his shoulder in a ready position. To his right was the Mavlo in a heap on the floor, Monte couldn’t know yet if he was alive or dead.

A surprisingly lithe man burst into the visible area in front of Monte brandishing a long knife. He let out a grunt as he lunged with it at Monte but his move was imprecise and obvious. Monte took a short step to the left and took a clean swipe down with the hammer, breaking the feeble blade into two shards.

Monte wasn't sure if it was from surprise or desperation, but the attacker took a wide swing with the half of the knife he was still holding. A step back let the broken blade pass harmlessly in front of Monte's face. His foe was off balance, having failed to connect, Monte brought the hammer the attackers' back with some force. Monte kicked, landing his foot above the man's knee as he fell, and sent him rotating to the ground, face up and in obvious agony.

"That's one down." Thought Monte, so far unimpressed.

He was about to deliver a hammer blow to the head that would surely end the first attacker. He would never get the chance. Just then Monte was beset by another Company man. This one brandished a sword and apparently had some experience wielding it. The second man attacked furiously. Parried blows clanked, iron on steel, parodying the rhythms of a working smithy.

Monte thought again of drawing his own blade. He didn't want the Company to know who he was, and what they had in front of them. Then again, if he was beaten, he might never be able to learn about the replica. If he couldn't end this duel soon, he might not even survive the night. If he was beaten, whoever wanted his father’s sword would have if it. But if he won, as long as the sword stayed sheathed, he would have given nothing away. He decided to take his chances with the hammer.

His opponent lacked Monte's skills as a swordsman but had still managed to force Monte off his position. Slowly, Monte was being beaten back toward the furnace. Despite countless hours spent with a hammer in his hands, Monte was struggling to wield it in combat. He wouldn't have time to draw Mavlo's sword. There was no way to even make it to his friend. The Company man was backing him up to the forge. He could feel the heat getting closer, and he could feel the fatigue setting in. More men might be waiting in the shadows. Monte needed a new plan fast.

Suddenly he remembered the poker he'd placed in the furnace's coals.

"Always have your tools ready." He remembered his father saying.

Monte's father was still with him, still issuing reminders. He hated hearing it when he was a boy. His father was right, and Monte would rather fight than admit it. Now Monte was grateful. He deflected an attack with the force of his entire body. The blow sent the other man reeling. Monte grabbed the red-hot iron and plunged into the attackers' exposed buttocks. As the man fell to the ground, his screams filled the room.

"Two down" Monte thought.

He didn't hear anyone sneaking up behind him, the second fighter's shrieking was too loud. Suddenly he felt cold steel at his neck. It all came back to him in an instant. That voice from the shadows was familiar, but the stench was unmistakable. The old man from the tent had turned the tables on Monte.

"It's even better than it was before." The voice spoke again.

That same refrain… Monte felt a tug on his sheath strap and realized the old man knew what he had. The knife pressed deeper into his throat. His vision started to fade at the edges as Monte realized he was defeated. He couldn't have possibly planned for this.

But just then he heard rustling. Monte thought he saw two flashes like coins in a well. The smithy doors screeched open like they were being moved with much more force than they were used to. The dim twilight of the street poured in, along with light from a crowd of torches.

"Halt! I say with the Authority of the Guard, release that man." Called a voice from the street.

Monte couldn’t piece together what was happening yet. He felt the tugging at his sword stop and the knife pressed in closer, he felt a rivulet of blood beginning to pool where the blade made contact.

"Release him this instant!" The forceful voice spoke again. It sounded somehow familiar. Was he in a dream?

Monte felt warmth running down his neck. He was starting to shut his eyes when he heard a distinct click and a loud THWANP.