The Sword of Wisimir

Chapter 5: Deals (Part 1)

Malthus took Jack to the inventory room, where they found Sergeant Baylen, sat in the same place Jack had first met him.

"Back in here, Sergeant?" Malthus said.

"Soon as you lot came in; I got a chance to catch up on the paperwork." Baylen replied.

"We need a conversation," Malthus said.

Baylen closed the ledger and eyed Jack in the doorway. "That we do, Mal." He took out a sliver of flint and steel, chipping a spark to light the candle on his desk. Then got up, walked around it and folded his arms. "Recruit Key is failing and I'm about to stamp the ledger to send him home in the morning."

"You do that and you're missing out," Malthus said.

"How so?"

"He'll win the Annual Tourney single sword, trust me."

Baylen shook his head. "You told me that before, then I took drill while you were all on curfew duty. No offence Key, but you aren't made for the Royal Infantry."

"We agree on that," Jack said.

Malthus turned to him and winked. "Drop the act, Jack. You've convinced him and the recruits."

"I'm not—"

"Sergeant, Jack had to make sure none of the other recruits suspected anything." Malthus flashed a wide smile to them both. "I told him I'd straighten things out with you when I got back."

Baylen stared at him, but Malthus didn't flinch. Jack wondered if he should say something. Leaving now would make things easy, but Malthus seemed to have a plan and something about him. A few more days would let the search die down.

Eventually, Baylen grunted. "Lucky you got back today, otherwise Key'd be gone."

"Ain't it just."

"I can't just pass this," Baylen said.

"Sure you can," Malthus said. "Assign him to the kitchens. Then, we enter him and cut the take between us on his odds."

"That would require me to believe you," Baylen countered. "For all I know, you're trying to fleece me with some beggar."

"You still got your sword?"

"Yes of course."

"Then test him. Not here, obviously, but we can head out through the gate after dark."

Baylen considered the idea. "How much could we make?"

Malthus scratched his head and looked at them both. "Well, nearly five hundred people here, half'll get involved. They'll probably lay down a quarter crown each. If we get good odds, we could make ten crowns each."

Jack bit his tongue to keep quiet.

The numbers seemed to impress the Sergeant. "I guess it can't hurt to head out," he decided. "Shift change is at eleven, meet me here then."

---

Orri Garner was dead.

He distinctly remembered falling out of the second floor window at the Bell and Horse. He could still feel the flash of pain as he hit the ground, then inky soporific numbness.

But now he was awake again. Everything remained dark, but no longer floating, spinning dark. If he hadn't known better he would have thought he was alive, returned from a deep sleep, but not ready to open his eyes.

If he had eyes; he couldn't feel anything of his face.

"Ah good, you're awake."

The voice was unfamiliar. It held age, and echoed slightly, suggesting he was indoors, in a room with stone walls.

"Try not to move please."

Orri realised he could feel his fingers and toes. He felt pain, but it was more like a memory than a real hurt.

"I said, please don't move. It makes the restoration very difficult."

Shivers ran through him in a wave and any effort to twitch his limbs became impossible. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He couldn't tell if he had a mouth. He knew he'd fallen on his head, so by rights, there shouldn't be much left of it. He could hear the man who'd spoken moving around the room. A faint rustle of cloth and light shuffling footsteps on the floor got closer. Fingertips touched the back of his left hand and he felt a burning sensation, but was powerless to pull away. Somehow he felt connected to the man, as if they had shared something. He wasn't sure what.

"I can tell you're full of questions, I will make time for them I assure you," the voice soothed. "For now, these answers must satisfy you. Yes, you died and are still dead. My magic sustains you, but the fall broke you badly. When we have restored you, you will possess more of your original faculties than you do now."

Thank you, Orri thought, frustrated at being unable to speak.

"You are welcome. I am capable of sensing your thoughts, so there is no need to move." Cloth rustled again as the man moved away. "The process is laborious and you will be here for many days, so please try to get used to it."

Orri's left hand began to itch, gently at first, but then more and more, until it became a constant throb. The sensation spread across his fingers and up his arm. He tried to speak or move to scratch, but he couldn't do either.

Please, could you—

"Goodnight, Master Garner."

Inside, Orri began to scream.

---

"What brings you out here this late?"

Jack shrugged at the question from one of the approaching Watchman on the city gate and turned to Malthus, who smiled brightly. "We have a wager here boys, old Sergeant Baylen thinks Key here needs more sword training, since he was sloppy in drill this mornin'."

Torches on the gate walls cast long confusing shadows. Jack kept his eyes straight ahead. He counted four men on duty, wearing Watch black, plus a robed and hooded figure nearest the postern door, plainly a wizard and member of the Magister's staff.

"We have to check anyone who's going out," The Watchmen nearest said. "Rules is rules."

"Check for what?" Malthus said. "We ain't draggin' no cart of crowns!"

They all laughed at that and even Jack allowed himself to grin.

"Bring them over to me," a woman's voice floated out from under the cowl and into the night air. "A touch of each will suffice, so long as they plan to return before light."

They walked over to the postern and Jack started to tremble. He'd heard stories about the powers of wizards and the way they could read minds. He knew they'd been stationed at the gates during the curfew so they could catch the thief. "Maybe we can do this some other night?" he whispered to Malthus.

Malthus frowned and eyed the wizard. "Why? You got something to hide?"

"No it's just—"

"Well then, we can't back out, otherwise you're gone. Just step up and through the door. No trouble."

Sergeant Baylen went first. the wizard peeled back her hood to reveal a bob of blonde hair and piercing eyes, which locked upon his for a moment as she took his hand. Now Jack was nearer, he noticed the woman wore grey robes with a yellow trim. He wondered briefly what that meant. She let Baylen's hand drop and he passed through the door.

Malthus stepped up next and the ritual was repeated, then it was Jack's turn. He gritted his teeth and as he held out his left hand, his right strayed to the pommel of Orri's old sword. If the wizard could read his mind, he'd have to defend himself pretty quick.

Pretty blue eyes gripped his own. She was a pale woman, flawless, blonde and attractive, yet severe. Something in her gaze was broken. In a flash, Jack saw a young girl playing on a sunny hilltop covered in flowers and then it was gone. She let go of his hand and a thin line marred her perfect forehead as she frowned.

"You may go."

Confused, but relieved, he stepped forward and out through the postern door.