“Willem, I really like wot we ‘ave, but reckon we can do better. P’haps tis time for us

to do more t’get noticed by th’Bosses.”

“You mad Sylud or wot? We ‘ave got it sweet ‘ere. You ever short a ‘andful

o’pennies? Ever got an ‘ungry stomach? Answer is no. An’ why is that? ‘Cause we

does wot we are told, keeps our ‘eads down an’ don’t get noticed. Folk’s as get

noticed like as not end up floatin’ face down in th’Thard.”

“Was just saying, that’s as all. S’pose we ‘ad better get out t’work. I ‘ear that a

caravan is comin’ into town today from Moleryn. Could be a few pennies to be ‘ad

down Kotros.”

“Aye, let’s go ‘an get the lads and ‘ead down there.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Now lads, listen up. Got word from th’Boss that there’s a big job fer us. Set us up

fer next winter it will, so we’se won’t ‘ave t’work til Nuzyael.”

“Wot is it Willem?” Sylud asked, his interest piqued. He was sitting on the floor, his

arm around his latest girl, a blonde called Karlyn. The other dozen or so members of

the Libarn Street Lads were sitting around the derelict warehouse that they used as a

hideout and gathered around as their leader spoke.

“’Parently there’s this wagon load of stuff comin’ in a week or so. Our orders is to

nab it and get it to it’s new owner” Said Willem.

“Wot’s the cargo an’ whose it goin’ to?”

“Wot it is is anyones guess,” said Willem, “but youse ain’t gonna like it when I tells

ya where its goin’”

“Where is that then, Willem?” “Yeah, tell us, Willem!”

“We ‘as to take these crates from th’ caravan and ship them to the Octagonal Pit’s

temple at the Arena” Willem looked around at his boys, watching for their reactions.

“Shit! I don’ like that place. T’be sure it gives me t’shits,” one of the lads spoke with

some fear in his voice.

“Me an’ all. Those Agrikan’s are right bastard’s. Mean as ‘ell. Gotta be t’run them

games” Sylud shuddered slightly at the thought of the grisly spectacle he had seen the

last time he had paid his penny and gone to the Pamesani games. He had vowed he

would never go near the Arena again.

“Like ‘em or not, they be the ones who gits the gears we lift off’n th’ merchants,”

Willem said. He let that sink in before adding, “t’other bad news is we’se ‘ave t’work

with the Outer Wall boys on this.”

“Ah no, not those villager bastards,” Sylud said, “’member we ‘ad a run in with them

last summer.”

“Aye, but th’Boss says work wi’them so we ‘as t’work wi’them. I don’ like it as much

as anyone, but we ‘as no choice. Sylud, Jorge and Peral, youse come wi’me. We is

meetin’ wi Elisal an’ his boys t’work us out a plan. Rest o’youse boys, stay low and

don’ be getting’ in trouble.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Six fucking guards! You must be fuckin’ mad Willem. Those bastard’s ‘like as not

will ‘ave bloody great swords and be armoured like a legionary. How we s’posed

t’deal with six fucking guards?,” Elisal, the leader of the gang that controlled the

streets and docks of the small village of Eldin, just outside the walls of Coranan,

swore several times more to emphasis his point. He was a big lad, older than Sylud

by three or four years.

“Info from th’Boss is good. He says there’ll be three wagons an’ about six crates

t’lift. They’se be staying at the Five Stars inn, so chances are we’ll only ‘ave t’deal

with a couple, iffn we do the job at night,” replied Willem.

“Two or six, they’ll still be armed guards! More’in likely be legion vet’rans who’ll

‘av us fer dinner wi’out raising a sweat!” Elisal swore again.

“Less we can keep ‘em occupied, or better yet, drug ‘em,” Sylud said.

“How you propose t’ drug two or more armed guards?” Elisal asked.

“Well, we gets one of th’lasses I knows to entertain ‘em. She can slip ‘em a dose o’

sleepin’ drug. Sure as we can gets some of that!”

“Might work,” Elisal sounded less than convinced.

“We also needs t’ know more ‘bout this caravan,” said Willem, “Eli, your lads gets on

alright wi’them boys from ‘cross in Kuseme. Why don’t you send a fast lad cross

th’river an’ down th’ road aways from Kuseme to find out ‘xactly wot these guards is

like.”

“Sounds good. I’ll git onto it now. I ‘av got a barge to lug th’crates down to the

Coranan ‘Aven. Once we offload ‘em, theys are yours. Octagonal Pit you said?

Fuck! Glad I live on this side of th’ city walls. Rather you than me.”

“I reckon we also gets some rope and poles t’make some slings t’carry th’ crates.

They’s probably gonna be ‘eavy as Jorge,” said Sylud, dodging a friendly cuff from

Big Jorge.

“Only other thing is who is doing th’ deed. Twenty of us? Ten from each gang sound

fair?” asked Elisal.

“Yeah, make sure none of ‘em are too little, they’s all needs t’be strong lads. We’ll

meet back ‘ere when we gets word” said Willem.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Yael was hidden by clouds, something that all the lads were grateful for. They had

received warning that the caravan was on the way. It arrived in Coranan and made

it’s way to the Five Stars inn where their information said it would remain for two

days while the merchant conducted business in Coranan. The wagons were drawn up

together in the field adjoining the inn. They had found out that the crates were about

six feet long, about the size of coffins. This had filled all the lads with fear, but they

were determined to carry on with their mission. Happily for Sylud and the others, the

wagons were not that far from the south-east wall of the inn’s enclosed meadow.

They had left the safe house in Eldin in the middle of the night and in single file they

had made their way over the wall by the big mill and were now lying in the grass,

watching the glow from the fire that warmed at least one of the two guards that were

on duty. Luck had smiled on them and the merchant and his remaining guards were

staying in the inn.

“I ‘ope that Karlyn has got ‘em drugged, or at least is keepin’ ‘em busy fer us,”

whispered Slippery Jim to Sylud, “You sure she was up t’it?”

“Aye, she’s a good lass ‘an will do alright. ‘Sides, promised ‘er a new dress when we

gets home.”

“You’re a bastard Sylud. Come ‘cross all goody-good but you ‘ave a mean streak.

This is dangerous work. Karlyn’d do anythin’ for you. Wouldn’t want my girl being

fucked by some ol’ mercenary bastard.”

Sylud shrugged in the darkness. Karlyn was no blushing virgin and had been working

the streets of Coranan to survive before she met and moved in with Sylud. Sylud did

however feel a pang of regret that he had got her involved. He liked her more than he

cared to admit to the others.

Ahead of them they could see the outline of the wagons. From where they lay they

could hear the sound of snoring. It looked and sounded like the guard by the fire was

asleep, but of the other there was no sign. Frustrated by their inability to see anything

in the dark, Willem turned to Sylud and whispered “Sylud, take a few lads an’ find

t’other guard. Eli, take yer boys an’ deal to that guard asleep there. Go!”

Sylud motioned to Big Jorge and two others to follow him. He was terrified and his

hands were shaking. They inched their way on their bellies towards the wagons and

strained to hear anything. From the third wagon they heard a groan and as quietly as

they could they moved to peer over the tailgate. Inside they saw the dark form of the

guard, engrossed in satisfying himself in the small figure beneath him. Sylud snarled

to himself and nodded to the others. They leapt on the man, billy-clubs raining blows

on the naked man. Sylud leapt on his back and tried to choke him so that he could not

cry out. The guard was however a full grown man, and a big one at that. He roared to

his feet and flicked Sylud off like he was an annoying fly. In the dark Sylud heard

Karlyn give a shriek as an ill-aimed swing of a club fetched her a blow to the temple

as she tried to scramble out of harm’s way. The giant man, naked except for his

boots, grabbed one of the lads and head-butted him right out of the wagon. He turned

towards Sylud, his movements slow and ungainly, a result of the drugged wine.

Sylud saw his monstrous arm swing back and in terror he tore he knife from his belt

and stabbed at the man. The blade nicked the man’s genitals and he roared with pain.

The minor wound gave Jorge the opening he needed and he struck him hard in the

stomach with his club, dropping him to his knees. Two or three more blows to his

head knocked him out. Sylud stood, shaking in fear and gripping the knife in his

hand.

“Sylud! Sylud, damn it!” Jorge’s half-whispered shout brought Sylud out of his

trance, “Willem’s got th’ boys unloadin’ the wagons. Come on, let’s help.”

“Aye, sorry Jorge,” he said and leapt down to the ground. Willem and the others were

in the process of carrying the crates off the wagon and over to the wall. Glancing

over to the fire he saw the first guard was lying in a heap, unmoving.

“Elisal gutted ‘im. We ‘ad better git a move on or we’se gonna be Arena bait,” said

Willem with some urgency.

They had got three of the crates over the wall before their lookout ran over saying

“there’s a couple o’ guards comin’ this way. Time to leg it.”

They scrambled over the wall when suddenly Sylud realized that he couldn’t see

Karlyn. Willem grasped his arm, “C’mon Sylud, th’ guards are comin’. Let’s go.”

“I can’t leave Karlyn. She must still be in th’ wagon.”

“Th’ guards are there. T’is suicide to go back fer her. She’ll be ‘right. She’s just a

girl.”

“No Willem! Leave me be!” Sylud shook off his friend’s arm and climbed back over

the wall.

“Shit!” swore Willem, “meet us back at the hideout then.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sylud lay in the grass, the unconscious Karlyn next to him. He had only just got her

away from the wagon before two armed guards arrived from the inn. They were

swearing and cursing and Sylud heard them say that both their friends were dead.

"Peoni", he prayed, "I never meant f’ them guards to get killed. Please get me out o’

this an’ I swear I’ll never do this agin".

He did not have the strength to get her over the wall so decided to make his way to the

stream and try to get her away that way. He could see the guard holding the lantern

low as he swung it back and forwards, looking for the thieves.

“Where are you, you bastards,” the man swore. He held a long sword in his meaty

fist, the light reflecting off it’s wicked blade.

Sylud took his chance when the man’s back was turned and, pausing only to hoist

Karlyn onto his shoulder, he ran towards the stream. The guard heard him and turned

just as Sylud rushed behind him and leapt into the stream. He lost his hold of Karlyn

and she went under the dark water. Sylud somehow managed to get hold of her and

swam a few strokes into deeper water where the current started taking them

downstream towards the Thard. The guard had followed down the bank and was

roaring curses into the darkness.

Sylud was not a strong swimmer and he found it difficult to do more than stay afloat

with Karlyn’s weight threatening to drag them both down. He had a few moments of

panic as she went under but somehow she was still breathing. Out of the darkness

Sylud could see a large shape which he realized was the mill’s waterwheel – which

was fortunately not turning. He tried to grasp it to pull them out but he lost he grip on

the slimy boards and they were swept past through the race.

Try as he might, he could not swim towards the bank while keeping Karlyn afloat. He

was tiring fast and the realization that he was to be swept out into the Thard made him

panic. The outline of a small bridge came into view and he managed to stop their

down-stream movement by clinging to a pile. He tried to climb up but lacked the

strength. He felt Karlyn slipping away from him. They had both been in the water

for some time now and Sylud could feel his last reserves of strength were almost

finished. "No!" he shouted to himself "I ain’t leaving her to drown. Peoni hear me,

please help me. She don’t deserve to drown like a rat".

Suddenly a voice above him boomed “Grab me ‘and lad! Quickly now.” A large

hand was thrust down towards him and he somehow managed to grasp it. As he was

lifted he lost his hold on Karlyn who fell back into the water.

“Karyln, No!” he shouted as he was hauled onto the bridge.

“Don’t fret lad, I got her,” another voice said, and he raised his head to see Karlyn

being dropped down next to him. He looked at the booted feet and upward to his

saviours. Two guards, wearing nothing but their tunics and boots, and with swords at

their sides stepped back to reveal a third man – the merchant that they had been

ordered to rob. He looked down at Sylud and rubbed his chin.

“Well, well. Looks like we have caught one of our thieves”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Where is my cargo? Who has it?”

“I dunno what yer are talking ab…” Sylud didn’t get any further before a fist

slammed into his stomach. He would have fallen except for the man holding him.

“Don’t be given our master none of yer lip you little bastard,” said the man who had

hit him, “answer the god damned question.”

Coughing and spluttering Sylud tried to force air back into his lungs. “I dun nothin’.

Leave me be.”

The merchant looked at him. “You know I don’t believe you, thief. You and your

fellows murdered my men and took three crates of weapons. Now tell me where or

things will go bad for you. Very bad indeed.”

Sylud swore to himself. "Weapons! So that’s wot they was. What did th’ Octagonal

Pit want wi’ stolen arms?" Out loud he said “I never killed yer men. We was just out

walkin’”

“Stupid boy,” the merchant said shaking his head. He nodded to one of his men who

lifted the now conscious Karlyn to her feet. She was terrified and shrank back.

“There, there, pretty lass,” the man said. Suddenly he back-handed her and she fell

over, blood starting from a split lip.

“Leave ‘er alone you bastards,” Sylud swore. The man hauled Karlyn to her feet and

punched her down again.

“Stop it, please, I’ll tell yer. Just don’t hit ‘er any more.” Sylud begged. Karlyn was

lying on the ground moaning in pain.

“I was ‘ired to watch out, that’s all.”

“Who hired you boy?”

“Jus’ some man in th’town. Wanted lads fer a job.”

“What’s his name?”

“I dunno, ‘e didn’t tell me. These men don’t be given out tha’ names to th’ likes of

me.”

The man stood and scratched his chin again. He turned to one of his men and told

him to fetch the authorities. He turned once again to Sylud.

“The authorities will take care of you boy.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Shut yer filthy mouth, prisoner” The guard slammed his spear butt into Sylud’s

stomach and he fell to the floor, retching and gasping for breath. He tried to stand but

the guard kicked him several times to get him through the door and into the cell.

Sylud rolled onto his side, curled up in agony. The guard spat a gob of saliva at

Sylud’s prostrate form and laughed as he left the cell and banged the door shut behind

him.

Slowly the pain in his stomach subsided enough to allow him to get shakily to his feet

and explore his surroundings. He was in a dismal cell whose dimensions were only

slightly larger than he himself was. The floor was covered in dirty straw and the

Gods alone knew what else.

“Karlyn! Karlyn! Y’there? Are yer alright?” he shouted, his faced pressed to the

small opening in his cell door. The guard’s spear shaft banged into the door inches

from his face, sending him tumbling back into his cell with fright. The guard looked

in and laughed “Lad, you should be spendin’ less time worryin’ bout that little slut

and more ‘bout what’s gonna ‘appen to you.” The opening in the door was slammed

shut leaving the cell in total darkness. Sylud slid down the damp wall, alone with his

fears.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sylud languished in a cell for several weeks. The tedium was broken only by the

arrival of food twice a day. He quickly learned to have his small wooden bowl ready

by the door or else the ladle of foul pottage that was his dinner had to be retrieved

from the floor. No matter how often he asked about Karlyn he got no answer from the

guards. Eventually he was taken to see a small, weasely man who claimed to be

Dorane of Rolin, a litigant. Sylud had heard of him, and didn’t trust him as far as he

could throw the man. Dorane said that he would defend Sylud for the bargain price of

twenty pennies.

“Now Sylud, where do I get my fee? I must be paid in advance.”

Sylud was not about to divulge his hidey-hole to this man, so gave him some rather

convoluted instructions that would get him in contact with Willem, although he was

careful not to mention Willem’s name at all. A week later the litigant returned to say

that the money had not been paid. Sylud was dumbfounded. Could it be that his

friends had sold him out? He was alone and afraid, and for the first time in a long

while wished he were home in Idum. He spent many hours praying to Peoni, begging

her to forgive his sins.

Eventually, he was hauled from his cell, his hair matted and filthy, his clothes reeking

and vermin infested. He was shackled to three other prisoners and they were escorted

to a courtyard and into the sun. After so many weeks underground Sylud could hardly

see and tears filled his eyes. The prisoners were loaded into the back of a tumbril and

driven through the streets of Coranan to the Law Courts. Sylud had seen these

wagons before and had even, once, thrown a piece of mud at the unfortunate

prisoners. How he now regretted ever doing that to the poor unfortunate who had

been in the cage that day.

Suddenly, in the crowd he caught sight of Willem and Jorge.

“Willem! Willem! Get me outa ‘ere!”

“Sylud! We paid th’ damned litigant! Wot’s ‘e dun fer ya?”

“Nothin’! Bastard said you wouldn’t pay!”

“’Ang in there, Sylud! We’ll think o’ someit t’do!”

That was all that they were able to say to each other before guards pushed Willem and

Jorge away with their spear shafts. The wagon was driven in to the Palace of Red

Domes, where the city Law Courts were located. The prisoners were hauled out and

forced into a holding cell, where one at a time, they were unshackled and taken away.

Sylud was last in the line and each time the door opened he became more anxious.

Eventually he was alone, waiting for his turn.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Legate sat in a chair on a raised dais. To his right at a table scribes scribbled

away at their parchments. To his left eight citizens sat, ready to pass judgment on

Sylud. The Legate looked at the sheet of paper handed to him and read through it. He

looked over at Sylud with disgust and wrinkled his nose.

“Sylud of Maladon, inhabitant of the City of Coranan. You are charged with larceny

and the murder of two men. We have sworn statements from several citizens of good

standing that you were caught red-handed, with a bloodied sword in your hand. The

same witnesses state that you admitted the theft of several crates of trade goods,

removed by your fellow felons who have not as yet been apprehended, and that you

also admitted the murder of the two guards. The court notes that you have chosen

to forego the services of a litigant to plead your case. How do you plead?

“That’s not right, that’s lies!”

Nodding to a scribe, the Legate said “Note down that the prisoner said Not Guilty”

“Now, Sylud of Maladon, you will be judged by a jury of honest citizens.”

“But I ain’t ‘ad the chance to say nothin’!” Sylud protested.

“Silence!” the Legate shouted and nodded to the jury. They talked amongst

themselves for a brief moment before one stood and said to the magistrate “’E’s guilty

as sin, yer honour!”

Sylud felt the colour drain from his face, and realized that he was finished. At best

hanging. At worst, the Games, and being torn apart by some fearsome Ivashu. "Make

it ‘anging please, I pray you Peoni". He shut his eyes and waited for the Legate to

pronounce his verdict.

“Sylud of Maladon, you have been found guilty. However, due to the greater needs of

the Republic I hereby forego the death sentence! You are therefore sentenced to serve

as a convict conscript for a period of four years in the Legions of the Republic. There

you will serve the Republic and learn the error of your ways. Take him away.”

“I’m not dead,” Sylud said to himself. The guard escorting him back to the cells

laughed and said “You sure will wish you were boy, believe me!”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back at the prison once again, Sylud’s euphoria began to vanish as thoughts of death

at the end of a hangman’s rope were replaced by thoughts of thousands of savage

tribesmen who lived beyond the Republic’s borders. This did not sit well with him.

He was not returned to the small cell that had been his home for the past month but

taken to a larger cell, filled with a variety of men who it seems had been sentenced to

a similar fate as himself.

“Wot ya do, lad?” a scar-faced man said as Sylud looked around for somewhere to sit

himself down.

“Robbery an’ murder,” he replied, trying to make himself look as tough as he could.

No point letting these men know how scared he was. He ignored the man and found

a spot to settle himself down. At least this cell had a window through which some

sunlight and fresh air filtered in.

Later, when they lined up for their evening meal he asked the guards if Karlyn had

been taken before the magistrate yet.

“Never ‘eard of ‘er. Wot about you Geralt?” the guard turned to the prisoner whose

job was to ladle out the watery pottage.

“Well, she ‘aint that little blonde one is she?” the man named Geralt asked Sylud,

“came ‘ere ‘bout a month gone?”

“Yes, she had long blonde ‘air, is ‘bout this tall,” Sylud indicated her height with his

hand.

“I know the one. Wot is she t’you then lad? Yer Lass? Sister?” Geralt asked.

“My lass, she is” Sylud said.

“Sorry then lad, she died a few weeks back. Surgeon said she ‘ad taken too many

knocks in th’ ‘ead”

Sylud didn’t hear anything else. Jim had said that Karlyn would do anything for

Sylud because she loved him. Now Sylud had got her involved in a dangerous crime

that had killed her. He turned away and walked back to his spot by the wall and sank

down, his head cradled in his hands, quietly crying to himself.

Next Story.

Written by: Brian Smaller (a.k.a Sylud of Maladon)