Somehow, I made it to Malin, it took me two days longer than I thought it would, even with the delay (I was calling it a delay as it was better for my sanity to call it that rather than that time when you were nearly murdered by bandits but then killed them instead), and I am actually starving. You may have noticed I’ve been recounting the last few weeks events to myself like a walking diary - I’m not really sure why I’m doing this at this point but it’s distracting me from the hunger pains and the dizziness.
I look like a beggar and there’s no way any self respecting city guard is going to let me in; my situation is officially hopeless, but what else am I going to do now? For all the impossibility of it there is food, water and shelter on the other side of the city walls I can see towering above me from the queue of people forming in front of the gate (a lot of them are pretending they can’t see me). The guards are clearly using [identify] on everyone passing through so at least I’m not going to flash up as royalty on their systems now and if that was all they were doing that would be fine but they’re also asking questions.
The only thing I have going for me, other than maybe someone taking pity on me, is that I had the foresight to change my bloodied shirt for the bandit’s (the one I stabbed through the eye - less blood) and the blood stains on my leather waistcoat and dark trousers, well they were just lost amongst the other stains - unidentifiable dark patches. So that was pretty depressing - my one selling point was I didn’t look like I’d just murdered someone. Anyway, it was definitely self defence even if I wasn’t in my right mind at the time.
I stumbled towards the gate, hoping maybe I could just sneak through whilst they were questioning someone else. This it soon turned out was a forlorn hope, the guards had set up a series of wooden railings which they were herding everyone through. Soon the press of people had forced me into the confined path and I had no choice but to continue forward, accept my inevitable rejection and find somewhere quiet to curl up and die.
“Gods kid, you’ve been in the wars,” the guard said to me, “Fallon, toss me your canteen, this kid looks ready to pass out.”
A moment later a full canteen of water was thrust into my hands which I gratefully took and gulped down. I hadn’t realised how desperately thirsty I had become.
“Take this as well,” the guard said, offering me a chunk of bread which I quickly wolfed down.
“Thanks,” I managed to splutter as I swallowed the last of the bread.
“Your welcome kid, what happened to you?”
“Robbed,” I lied, “coming south round the mountains and then here.”
“You’re lucky to be alive then,” the guard said, “no one warn you it’s bandit country all through the Alascean border. Usually they just murder their victims.”
“No,” I said, before adding, “they tried but I got away.”
“Well you’re better off here, can’t guarantee no one will try and rob you but you’ve got us auxiliaries and the Militia here so there’s help on hand and people think twice before breaking the law.”
“You’re going to let me in?” I asked in surprise.
“Unless you give me a reason not to,” the guard said, “we don’t turn away children in need here. Although I doubt a youth hostel is why you came here being a scout and all.” He must have used [identify] on me whilst we were talking. I didn’t know how to respond so just gave him a sheepish look.
“Don’t be shy lad,” the guard said, interesting that he assumed I was a boy, “I’ve let dozens of you in this morning already, it’s always the same around trials day - I don’t know why some of you are so coy about it. You’re not going to jinx yourself by saying that’s what you’re here for. Anyway - know where you’re going?”
“No,” I said honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about at this point but decided it was best to play along.
“Here take this,” he said handing me a sheet of paper, “crap - you’ll need to hurry if you’re going to make registration,” With that he gave me a shove and I was through the gate.
“And look, even if you don’t make it through the trials there’s plenty of work in the city. Just find one of the ward offices and they’ll set you up in one of the hostels. Good luck though,” he called after me.
I smiled back at him, how could I not? He’d fed me instead of turning me away even though I looked like a beggar. There were places for children to stay even if they had nothing by the sounds of it. In Trieste I would have been left to starve. Right now even though I never had the power or chance to change things I was ashamed as I had accepted that such cruelty was the way of the world and right here in front of me was proof it didn’t have to be.
If that didn’t prove Malin was like no other place in the world well I only had to open my eyes - there were men and women of every nation I’d ever read about walking the busy streets - pale easterners like me, the olive skinned men and women of the river basin, the darker skin tones of the southern kingdoms and the blonde and burnished looks that marked out westerners. There were even a few of the midnight dark northmen striding proudly through the streets. More than that though there were dwarves and pixies, beastkin and even some celestials gliding above me.
I must have stood awestruck for gods only knew how long before I remember the flyer the guard - or auxiliary - had passed me. It read:
Calling all boys and men from Malin and the surrounding country
*
Do you have a class in one of the following class sets: Archer, Engineer, Equestrian, Explorer, Fighter, Hunter, Ranger, Rogue, Swordsman, Warrior
*
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Serve your city or earn citizenship, respectable pay, no experience needed - just be Lv 10 or above
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The Militia Selection Trials
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15 Tor’s Month, Registration Closes 11 am sharp outside City Hall
Well I had no idea what the Militia were - Malin’s equivalent of a knightly order perhaps - but well this looked like fate and you don’t just ignore fate do you? Here I had just arrived in the City, just having somehow acquired a class in the explorer class set. I had a character sheet that was ambiguous about my gender and now an advert for a chance to find my place in Malin. I had never considered being a knight or soldier before - it wasn’t something that women did, it was rare enough for a woman to have one of those class sets - the only women I’d met who did had been Equestrians or Hunters and then their classes had been about training or stalking animals not about employing their skills for military use. The more I thought about it the more I thought it could be for me. I obviously had the capacity to take a life, I had some skill with a bow and well if I was hiding what better place to hide than a place no one would ever look for a princess.
I heard a church bell strike the third quarter and remembered the auxiliary had told me to hurry. It must be nearly eleven and I had no idea where to go. I rushed over to the first person I saw and asked where city hall was. He laughed, pointed in a direction and told me to run, which I did without any further hesitation! I arrived at the City Hall just in time to join a line of young men - and when I say just in time I barrelled into the queue just before the - well he must have been from the way he was armoured and dressed - knight supervising the queue put a barrier behind me.
“You got lucky kid,” the Knight said to me, looking me up and down, “you look worse for wear lad, not eaten today?”
“Just a chunk of bread sir,” I said, “I’ve been hurrying to make it here in time.”
“Well that will do you no good in the trials,” he said, “wait here.”
With that the Knight disappeared. I must admit he looked the part, he was tall with the ruddy skin and blonde hair of a westerner, which he wore cropped short, with strongly defined features that combined to make him look, well, knightly. The gleaming steel cuirass and the forest green jacket, garnished with brocade and braiding helped with that as well. Oh and the long sword was another hint.
Still standing at the end of the slowly moving queue I took my time to take in my surroundings - we were standing in the shadow of the City Hall and it was like no building I’d ever seen in Trieste. In Trieste the only buildings of note were castles and temples but this building was like neither. If anything it looked like the home of a wealthy merchant except ten times the scale. It rose a full five stories into the air, a single gabled slate roof ran the length of the building. It was timber in structure, with wood carved with vines and other patterns and stained black to contrast with the white plaster of the walls. Each floor sported dozens of large glazed windows - I’d never seen so much glass in one place before - and a grand double height door marked the building’s entrance; people were streaming in and out in droves. From the roof hung several banners - impressive but meaningless to me - and above them all flew a flag displaying the one banner I did recognise. It was a green flag with a golden yellow crenellated wall running across its bottom third. The Walls of Malin, banner of the Free City.
I must have been in serious awe as I didn’t notice the knight return with something warm in a paper bag which he handed to me..
“Go on - it’s called a double,” the knight said, handing it to me. I unwrapped it to reveal a soft bread roll filled with pale brown peas in some sort of sauce that gave off a pleasantly spiced smell. Ravenous, I devoured it in seconds, well after I got over the shock of the heat of the thing - not its temperature, but the sauce made my mouth feel like it was burning, but in a sort of shocking but pleasant way. My face must have been a picture as I heard the knight laughing at me.
“You’ll get used to it, doubles are as much a part of the City as the Walls” the knight said, “and it’s full of energy, which you’ll need for the combat portions of the trials, especially a little thing like you, and a scout to boot, not a common class that, useful though, but you’ll be at a natural disadvantage in one on one combat.”
“One to one combat?”
“Aye, what do you think you’re here for?” the man laughed, “you country kids really don’t know anything do you; just think you’ll come to Malin to find your fortune. Well I don’t blame you. I’m Sir Erik Lagarde, lieutenant of the fourteenth company.”
“I’m Neesh,” I take it back this man wasn’t knightly at all. If anything he was a bit of a condescending show off. In a sort of likeable way - although he’d just fed me and right now that made you exceptionally likeable in my books.
“Well it’s good to meet you Neesh,” he said kindly, “do you want me to fill you in on what's going to happen?”
“Yes please,” I said eagerly, I mean I was completely clueless as to what these trials really were - although I probably should have guessed fighting would be part of them.
“Alright then,” he said, keeping step with me as the queue advanced, “In the morning are the combat trials: archery, sword fighting and unarmed combat. You have to enter at least two. Archery, if you pick it you need a passing score; sword fighting and unarmed combat are in the form of a number of tournaments. If you make it to the quarter finals you pass but even if you lose some competitors still can get a judges pass into the next round if you show promise and determination and have passed another combat trial. If you make it through the combat section you’ll get to take the academic tests: history, mathematics, languages and general intelligence.”
“Academic tests?” I said confused, “what does academics have to do with being a knight?”
“Being a knight isn’t just about clobbering people, at least not in Malin,” Erik grinned at me - going back to being condescending, “it was all the idea of the Council - that we should all be cultured and educated. We need engineers skilled in mathematics to maintain our walls and siege weapons and we need diplomats with a good knowledge of history and languages to make sure we never need them. That’s all part of the job of a Militia Knight these days - we protect the city not just with our arms but with our knowledge as well”
“So why don’t you test them in the first round of trials as well?” I asked.
“Well we still have to clobber people some of the time,” he laughed, not really answering my question. I kind definitely wanted to dislike this man but the more he talked the more I started to see him as an overgrown puppy in that he was just inherently, annoyingly, likeable.
“Well, thanks for explaining that all to me,” I said half-heartedly, not that he noticed.
“No trouble at all,” he boomed back at me, before adding, “you remind me a bit of me when I was your age, I was clueless when I arrived too. Anyway, I best be getting on, my Captain will be wanting me to observe the trials with him, best of luck and try your hardest today.”
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Well that was interesting Sir Erik thought as he strode away - he had thought the boy a hopeless case when he’d first spied him; small and thin he couldn’t really see how he’d pass the trials. He nearly pulled the barrier across to spare him the pain of failing. Then he had talked to the lad and he’d been surprised by how confidently he spoke with him, he even was taking the piss out of him at times, which amused Sir Erik more than he was prepared to admit. Most of the other candidates he’d tried to talk to had just given him a brief bow and a mumble when he introduced himself. Yes, thought Erik, there was something potentially interesting about the boy; worth keeping an eye on at least.