CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ryland understood what was happening immediately, since the security men had just seen two travel-stained men with weapons, albeit wrapped ones, enter their master’s jewelry store. So, he raised his open hands and smiled at them.

“Sorry to bother you, lads. We just need to talk to your master, is he in?”

The one guard looked at the other, and then gestured towards the back with his chin.

“Stay here.” He said while the other went deeper into the store.

After a moment, a well dressed man appeared with the guard. He looked the younger men up and down and then flinched and said with some distaste. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, honored sir.” Ryland said, ignoring the jeweler’s attitude. “But our master has just come into town and needs to have some gold shaped. Do you do such work?”

“Why yes,” said the shopkeeper, suddenly interested in the pair. “Yes I do. What sort of shaping does he need done?”

“Two rings and a circlet, sir. For the mistress.” Ryland said cheerfully. “He’s asked us to poke around and see who might be best to do it.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place, boys.” The owner gestured for the two security men to relax. “You’ll find none better than this shop. If your master will come by, I’m sure I’ll be able to help him. Can I interest you in some tea?”

“Ah. No. Thank you, sir. We’re in a hurry. Lots to do.” Ryland gave a humble bob of his head. “We’ll let him know. Oh, and before we go, are there any banks here which have a good reputation? He has need of some safekeeping.”

“Yes, of course.” Said the jeweler, then gave them directions to his bank a few blocks away.

After giving their thanks and a “promise to return,” the pair left and headed to where the jeweler had told them to go.

“There’s no goldsmith who doesn't know the best place to keep his gold,” Ryland commented as they entered the bank.

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After depositing their money and a few other things, Ryland and his companion did some quick shopping at the markets along the streets before they made their way to the merchant hall where the others were waiting. There, they found six large carts being loaded with goods, and after dropping off their gear pitched in to help with the rest of the loading.

The sun was just sinking below the horizon, and the moon creeping into the sky when Jaxon gave the all done signal and told them to gather round. They were going to go get dinner at a local ale tap, and then come back here to spend the night in rooms inside the merchant hall he’d had prepared. Since all the hall’s staff had left except for a single elderly caretaker, they were staying close to the carts to keep an eye on them, and would be doing shifts guarding the carts during the night.

The first guard shift wouldn’t be going to dinner with them, since someone had to watch the carts, and after he told the team this, Ryland saw Jaxon was getting ready to draw lots.

“I’ll stay and watch the carts,” Ryland immediately said before Jaxon could begin to explain. “I wasn’t there to help load, so it’s only fair.”

Unable to argue, Jaxon nodded. “But, we should leave two.”

“I’ll stay,” Koamalu said, but when he did this there was a cry of protest.

“No! You come!” Boarsmouth said, obviously wanting to continue his drinking with Koamalu from the night before. Then the big shaggy hillman stabbed a finger at one of the other men, “You stay!”

The man he had pointed at, a tall, slender man with sleepy eyes named Marlowe, was obviously intimidated by Boarsmouth and raised his hands up in surrender. “Hey. No problem by me. You go ahead.”

That decided, the rest of the group left, but not before Jaxon promised to send back food and drink to the waiting men. Then as the sun set, the rest of the party marched off, leaving Ryland and Marlowe in the merchant hall’s otherwise empty courtyard.

‘We should set up a fire, then take turns walking around, to keep awake and make sure everything is secure.” Ryland said, thinking about the best way to divvy up the work.

To his surprise, Marlowe just snorted. “Look at you. The boss ain’t just stepped out and you’re already giving orders.”

Ryland turned and fixed his gaze on the other man. Marlowe was a few years older than Ryland, and Ryland pegged him as a gambler or some other kind of drifter who was dodging his debts. He’d seen more than a few of them in his father’s company- they came, but they never lasted long.

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Even in the twilight, Ryland’s stare made the other man lose his sarcastic smile, and then avert his eyes. “Yah well. Do what you want. I’ll be over here.” Then Marlowe wandered over to a stack of hay bales, and after arranging them so they formed a flat surface, he laid down on them like they were a bed using his arms as pillows under his head.

Ryland cursed himself internally. He was so used to working with Koamalu now that he'd forgotten he needed to negotiate and earn the trust of these men. Who was he to give orders, even if he'd been trying to be helpful?

Still, someone needed to keep watch, and it was clear Marlowe had no intention of doing it. So, Ryland went to a corner of the courtyard and got some wood scraps, then after piling them he used his tinder box to set them burning.

The yard itself was enclosed by a wall a little taller than a man, with the main hall and warehouse to either side, and a single large open entrance. The carts were set up in front of the warehouse, so Ryland set up the fire at a spot where they could see the front entrance and had the warehouse covering their backs.

Once he was done, he grabbed his wrapped crossbow and pulled the cover off.

It was a strange looking device that few crossbow men would have recognized. The basic crossbow form was there, but on top of it sat a large box with a big wooden leaver on the side.

Checking to see if a bolt was loaded and if the safety switch was on, Ryland hefted it up and began his patrol around the courtyard.

The midsummer night was pleasant enough, and the air was filled with a mix of city sounds and the buzzing and chirping of the local wildlife. Sounds of people talking or laughter would echo in from the streets from time to time, and if he wasn’t so tired he would have enjoyed the experience.

However, after a few patrols of the yard, Ryland began to feel the fatigue of the day really wearing on him, and started to spend longer and longer sitting on a bale next to the fire. He’d shifted a hay bale so it was against the side of one of the carts so that he could lean back against the cart and watch everything.

Marlowe was snoring away, and when Ryland tried to wake him, he got ignored. Since he had no authority, there wasn’t much he could do but plan to talk to Jaxon about the man, although he doubted it would do much.

So Ryland sat, hoping dinner would come soon, and enjoying the warm night air…

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Plink

Plink. Plink.

PLINK. PLINK! PLINK! PLINK!

Ryland snapped awake.

PLINK! PLINK!

Little stones were bouncing off the side of the cart next to him.

He sat up and looked around, trying to see where they were coming from.

Then he realized something - the whole courtyard was dead silent except for the sound of Marlowe breathing.

A breath of cold ran down Ryland’s spine as he carefully looked around.

Everything seemed normal, but he knew it wasn’t.

Then he saw them, figures at the edge of the firelight.

At first, he wasn’t sure if the dinner party had returned, but then the first of them stepped into the light and his heart sank. It was a seedy looking young man about his age, maybe a bit younger, wearing slightly tattered clothes and carrying a club with spikes hammered into it.

“Hey! Mind if we use your fire?” Grinned the young man.

Ryland stood up, raising his odd crossbow to point at the man.

“Go away,” Ryland said in a voice he hoped was loud enough to wake the sleeping Marlowe. “This fire’s taken.”

The youth laughed, and others stepped into the circle of light.

Ryland counted ten of them.

A local gang. All of them armed with knives or clubs.

“How many of us do you plan to shoot?” Said the grinning youth. “You only got one shot, guy.”

“I only need to shoot you,” Ryland kept his voice as cool and calm as he could, keeping his bow on the speaker.

He had no idea when the rest of the party was coming back, and the caretaker was an old man. He didn’t know about the city militia - they might come if there was enough noise, but he couldn’t be sure of it.

It was just him now.

And the still sleeping Marlowe…

“Hey,” the other youth raised his hands. “Let’s make a deal. You let us take one of those carts, and we all walk away happy. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

As he spoke, Ryland saw the others behind him fanning out, approaching him from the right and left like a pack of wolves.

Not having much choice, Ryland made the call.

“Okay. Fine.” He agreed.

A bunch of boxes wasn’t worth their lives. It wasn’t his money or supplies, and if he got fired, so what? He’d been left without backup, and Jaxon was responsible for this, not him.

“Nobody move,” he said, walking sideways over to where Marlowe was sleeping and giving the man a kick.

The other man finally came awake, and sat up cursing. Then he followed Ryland’s crossbow and jumped to his feet, grabbing his sword from where it lay on the ground next to him and drawing it.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” He cursed.

Ryland resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Just stay with me. We’ve made a deal.”

Marlowe didn’t even protest, he just nodded. “Okay.”

Then, keeping the closest gang members covered, the two of them backed along the side of the line of carts and away from the fire to a safe distance.

The gang members, seeing that the two of them were no longer a threat, moved quickly to secure the first of the six carts in the line. Three of them watched Ryland and Marlowe while the rest of them grabbed the tongue and yokes at the front of the cart and began to pull. The cart was full, and was a heavy load meant for two oxen, so even with six men pulling it was difficult for them to get it to move.

But they did get it moving, and slowly the cart began to pick up speed, heading for the entrance at a snail’s pace.

Ryland wasn’t happy about this, but there was little he could do except keep himself and Marlowe safe. Marlowe didn’t seem inclined to fight either, so both of them just kept watch on the men watching them and let things go as they would.

They’d let the local city guard sort things out.

It wasn’t their problem.

“Hey! What’s this then!?!”

The shout rang out from the entrance to the courtyard, and Ryland spotted Roddy Bentham, one of the other members of their group, standing there.

Dinner had arrived.

At the worst possible time.