The Supreme Warrior *2014 ABNA Contest 2nd Round*

CHAPTER 9: Into the Forest

NINE: Into the Forest

Since a Hidden Enemy can only be defeated through Surprise, the Supreme Warrior marches where his Enemy cannot go, and appears where his Enemy least Expects

—Caraazor 6:6 The Alchemy of War

Escaping Dannik had seemed simple the night before. Cal had been convinced his plan could not go wrong. Now that he actually had to take action, there seemed to be a thousand ways to fail. The first step was to get past his father’s door-warden.

Even though Grelig had commanded the door-warden to close the castle gates after sunset, Melwyn possessed considerable discretion in his duties. The party still raged in the Great Hall and some guests might still wish to return to their lodgings for the night rather than seek a pallet in the castle's guest quarters.

Cal planned to hint that he had a mistress in town. He hoped that this story, combined with enough silver, would turn the doorward’s ‘judgment’ in his favor. After exiting the postern door, he planned to open his cloak, put on his helmet, and join the caravan in Dannik-town.

Paranoia assailed him. What if Melwyn notices that I look bulky under my cloak? Or catches a glimpse of my ring mail?

Cal swallowed his fears and stepped onto the bridge connecting the keep to the fountain court, guided by dim torches along on the far side of the moat. Cal entered the yard and walked toward the guard tower just to the right of the south gate, which held the postern door. As he entered the open archway at the tower’s base, he saw the door-warden and three other men huddled around a small lantern tossing dice from a cup.

One of the men looked up.

Henrick!

Panic threatened to numb Cal’s mind. Exerting his will, He succeeded in taking the final steps to the table without a hitch. Fortune smiled on Cal because, just as his panic spiked, Melwyn roared with drunken glee. The door-ward had won the last round. The men-at-arms groaned as Melwyn razzed Henrick. “Sir Henrick, you’ve doubled my pay for the week! Do you care to make it two?”

Henrick took a long drag from the flagon at his fist and answered with a slurred voice that made clear he had been dicing for most of the night, “Ha! You will not be so lucky all eve...night.”

“Young Calidon, have you, too, come to raise my wages?” The giddy door-warden pushed his tankard toward Cal as if to clink it against a phantom cup in Cal’s hand, then raised it to his lips. Ale foamed over Melwyn’s beard as he drank.

As a squire, Melwyn technically held the same rank as Cal and had the right to address him by name; but, Henrick’s sour expression rebuked the door-warden for his familiarity.

“No Melwyn, I have a...umm...errand in town.”

“Ohhhhhhhh!” chorused the door-warden and the men-at-arms. Melwyn turned his joyful gaze upon Cal. “This is my lucky night! I’ll offer you the same arrangement I have with Sir Henrick here: speaking the first syllable of her name pays half the toll!”

“Oh no, my good Melwyn. A gentleman never tells!” answered Cal jovially.

An avaricious gleam lit the doorward’s eyes, “Well, since I am so deeply in my cups, you need only count to...two!”

Henrick’s chin popped up from his chest and spat, “Two, you thief! I think you m’rishpoke. One!”

“Hmmmph,” snorted the door-warden. “Sir Henrick, you receive the first-born discount...”

“ONE!” roared Henrick again.

When then door-warden nodded ruefully, Cal produced a single silver piece. As Melwyn opened his mouth to command the men-at-arms to unlatch the postern door, Henrick interrupted, “Hold for a moment, my frien’ I need....need to talk to my brodder.”

Henrick lurched to his feet and slapped a friendly arm around Cal’s shoulders. He pulled his larger brother out of the tower and into the courtyard, just within dim range of the lantern’s glow.

“Did you do the bitch?” whispered Henrick who, despite his alcohol-laden breath, uttered his words with crisp authority.

Cal’s heart pounded and his brain whirled with the discovery that his brother was still mostly sober. “Yeah,” he bluntly grunted.

“Where is she?”

“In the back of the stable, behind the hay bales on the west side.”

Looking directly at Cal’s facial muscles, he asked, “Why isn’t she screaming?”

“I gagged her.” Cal issued a rough laugh, and then added, “With her own gown.”

Henrick laughed, “Good enough. Perhaps ’tis best she waits ’til morning. I shall tell father.”

“Is he awake?”

“Of course,” Henrick chortled. “Can you sleep this night?”

Gods, how could I be so stupid! Henrick is ensuring that Helvig stays stuck in the trap. Think fast. Think fast!

“Okay, brother. Tell me. Why are you leaving?”

In later days, Cal never knew how he had pieced together an answer from the numerous idea fragments that hurtled through his skull. He was eternally grateful that he found a rational response.

“Helvig might send an assassin after me...if he uses his wits instead of his anger.”

Henrick’s muscled arm quivered around Cal’s shoulder. Suddenly, the grip relaxed. Cal knew he had won before Henrick could open his mouth.

“Sharp thinking, Little Brother! If you aren’t breathing, you can’t answer Helvig’s challenge. Father and I had not considered that risk.”

Imagine that.

“Calidon, where can I find you when the time comes?”

He's much more like the older brother that I remember looking up to, now that he thinks I've submitted to their scheme.

He replied, “The imperial fort where we used to play. I’ll camp cold and eat hard-tack to hide from hostile eyes.”

Henrick smashed fists with his brother. “House Dannik,” he muttered.

“Forever,” answered Cal.

Despite all he knew about his father and brother, Henrick’s salute almost pulled Cal back into his family’s ancestral home.