Ascent of the Unwanted (The Chronicle of Unfortunate Heroes Book 1) (5 page)

Erik spent a great deal of time in the market district during the morning, expecting this would be his last day in Armeston. The path he followed may return him here, but he suspected only for temporary stops. He thought he outfitted himself well. He even splurged and got himself a pretty, double-edged knife in a dark leather sheath which strapped onto his belt. He felt satisfied considering he spent a few silver for the lot.

He headed out of the market and to The Brimming Mug when something caught his eye. On a table stand outside a merchant shop sat two small hair combs carved out of a rich dark wood. Carved flowers decorated the edge with a crafters art and the center held a small dove, its head bent around and tucked underneath one upturned wing. Today was his mother’s birthday. On a whim he went ahead and paid the merchant the three pieces of silver asked for the set. He bundled his precious treasure and cradled it into his backpack. It somehow made the hole he felt in his heart not as deep. He thought it odd considering his statement to Malgar concerning his mother’s ashes. Why would a memento reminding him of his mother make him feel better when her physical remains would not?

He was wandering through town pondering his philosophical problem when he heard a scuffle taking place in a back alley. Four teenaged youths about his age were laughing and kicking a large man who was trying to crawl away on all fours. This was not an unusual sight around here but the size of the man was surprising. The gangs usually picked on smaller, more defenseless targets.

The unfairness of the world and his hatred for it swelled inside him. He did not know these boys but he knew their type. It was easy for them to pick on a man who either would not or could not fight back. A little threat of bodily harm would stop them.

Erik looked at the small knife he had purchased, hanging from his belt. It would give him a little advantage but since he did not know how to use it in a fight it would not be much of one. He looked around the opening of the alley. Against one wall was a pile of debris. Digging through the pile he found a large wooden crate opened at one end. He grabbed a plank on the wooden box and ripped it loose. He looked at his crude weapon to bolster his confidence. The board was three feet long with four rusty twisted nails protruding out of one end. The other end was in splinters where Erik had snapped the board away from its fasteners on the crate. This would do fine.

Erik stepped into the alley. The boys were still kicking the man with abandon, ignoring his pleas. Erik cleared his throat in preparation.

“I would suggest you guys stop,” Erik said, but as he spoke his words lost confidence and the ending of his threat trailed into the air.

“Hey, look here, guys. A hero sent to rescue us this morning from our boredom.” the largest of the four said looking Erik up and down. Erik felt his confidence slip as he became the center of attention.

“You think he has any money for us?” one of the others said.

“Only one way to find out for sure.” replied the leader.

They all stopped kicking the defenseless man and advanced on Erik like wolves. Erik straightened and grabbed the board with more confidence. “You may outnumber me but with this,” Erik said, nodding to his board, “at least one of you will go down with me. These nails look painful. Have you ever had three inches of rusted metal punched into your side or, even better, your head? You
may not survive that.”

The four ruffians stopped. Looking much less confident. The three smaller young men looked at the large one for reassurance. Those questioning glances spoke volumes for Erik. He knew they were wondering which one of them would take the hit from his wicked looking club. The first one into range would take those spikes into whatever part of the body presented itself and it did not look like it would end there. Erik may not be muscular but he was still tall and his lanky frame held the club with a purpose.

“Aw, you’re not worth it anyways. From the looks of you you probably don’t even have half a copper on you! Come on let’s get out of here, but I wouldn’t walk into any more alleys `round here if I was you!” They turned and ran off whooping and laughing as if nothing at all had happened.

Erik bent to help the beaten man to his feet. He was large, not as tall as Erik, but twice his width and dressed in rags and furs. Erik wondered again how such a craven group could pick on someone like this. His coarse dark hair was wild on one side and matted with blood on the other. One of the man’s eyes swelled shut and his stunted bloody nose were obvious signs of the recent beating. A large protruding brow was covering his dark eyes in a perpetual shadow and a large under bite with a snaggletooth combined to give him a primitive appearance. A scar ran down his high, chipped and uneven cheekbones, splitting the hair on his left brow,but it left his eye unmarked. Old scars giving proof of the beatings this man had taken in his life.

“Thank you, sir. Lawt is grateful,” he said in a slow deliberate slur, not one hindered by drunkenness but by difficulty in forming words with his pronounced mandible.

“Not a problem. It looked like you could have used a hand.”

The man stood there looking at Erik with a dumb look on his face, apparently not knowing what to say next.

“So, Lawt, that’s your name, right? Why would you allow these guys to do that to you? You seem to be a large man. A few swings with those paws of yours would have taken the fight right out of them.”

“Lawt could not do that, sir. Lawt might have hurt them. Lawt cannot hurt anyone.” he said with a restrained look of resentment on his face.

Erik did not know what to think about this man. He obviously
did not have the slightest bit of survival instinct and was not too bright, but his demeanor was too much like a lost puppy to keep Erik from not liking him. At an impasse Erik blurted out, “You want some hot food? I can take you to a place that has food where we can sit and talk a bit.”

“Yes, please, sir. That would be nice,” Lawt said walking next to Erik out of the alley with a pronounced limp.

“So, what brings you to the fair city of Armeston. I take it you are not from around here.”

“Lawt got here three days ago, sir. The city is not a nice place to Lawt. No one talks to Lawt but Lawt found a pretty thing and Lawt hoped someone would pay money for it. Will you buy my pretty thing?” Lawt said holding a white crystal. Two pyramids fused together at their bases about the size of the last digit of Erik’s thumb sparkled in the man’s hand.

“Sorry, I don’t know anything about crystals or jewels and don’t really need one anyways. Besides I would not know what would be fair to offer you but I know where a few merchants are who may be interested.”

“Oh no, sir. Lawt has already asked many merchants. They yell and throw things at Lawt. Sometimes they say Lawt steals things and try to take my pretty thing away.” Lawt said.

“Well it can’t hurt to try again. If I go with you they may not try that again,” Erik offered.

“Okay. If you are with Lawt, sir, Lawt will try.”

“Well let’s get out of here then.”

Erik knew of two jewelers in Armeston and he headed for the one farthest away from them first. Whatever the first one said Erik would want corroborated by the other, and by putting the second one into the return trip back to the tavern made it easier to do.

When they arrived it was not the welcome Erik expected. The jeweler’s face turned purple red. “What are you doing here, boy? And you!” He said pointing at Lawt. “I have already thrown this despicable creature out of my establishment once this morning.”

“We just came to get an appraisal is all, good sir. Would you be so kinds as to—” but Erik could not finish what he was saying before he was interrupted.

“I am too busy a man to have my time wasted by you two. I don’t want you in here pawing my wares and stealing my merchandise. Out the both of you.” the merchant’s yell reached a shriek. He went far enough to grab a small hammer and hurled it at Lawt.

They retreated to the safety of the open street. “Well, that was very rude,” Erik grumbled.

“Lawt expects such treatment.”

The next jeweler was worse than the first. When Erik set foot in the door with Lawt in tow the owner charged at them. “Out! Out! You miserable gorak! I will call for the constables! Help I am being robbed!” the merchant yelled into the street.

Erik panicked. He and Lawt ran a good ways down the street before stopping and looking to make sure they were not being followed. “Well, that didn’t go at all like I had planned. Where did you get that thing at, anyway?” Erik did not want to come right out and ask if his newfound friend had indeed stolen it.

“Lawt found it next to his cave in the wood. Its sparkles caught Lawt’s eyes.” Lawt said.

“Well, I promised you some food. Let’s see about that shall we.”

Erik was now hungry himself. The trek through the city to meet both jewelers had eaten up a good hour in the day and it was way past his usual time for an afternoon lunch. Pushing and shoving one’s way through a crowded street always worked up an appetite for him and a nice bit of soup and warm bread awaited him.

He turned toward the street, which would lead him to The Brimming Mug, when his arm was grabbed from behind and he was spun into an unobtrusive alley. Farther down the alley Erik saw the four ruffians he had encountered earlier in the day. Closing behind him and Lawt were four other young men about the same age and apparent character. Erik’s mind raced, contemplating anyway to get out of the situation while the youths forced them further from view off the main street. The situation did not look good.

“Didn’t I warn you about coming into any of my alleys just this morning?” the large one asked.

“Yes. Yes, you did, but my friend and I were having an argument on what smelled worse, you or a threeweek dead fish and we had to have a refresher to confirm what we decided. Congratulations, you won!” Erik said with a small trace of a smile. This was definitely not the way to avoid getting a broken nose.

Erik did not have a chance to prepare himself for the hit that sent him to the pavement because it came from behind him. He tried to tense himself for the fury of blows and kicks which followed. After the first few dozen hits he realized
it hurt
as bad with his muscles tensed as relaxed. He tensed to protect himself just in case.

“No! Not Lawt’s friend!” Lawt screamed. Erik could not see where Lawt was.

Bodies rolled everywhere through Erik’s peripheral vision and screams of pain and outrage rang through the air. The abuse stopped and Erik rolled over onto his side feeling waves of pain shoot though him. He saw four of the ruffians sprawled on the ground through the alley. Lawt smashed another one’s face into the ground with anger flashing through his eyes. Two men had engaged the other three punks. Erik recognized them. The Cavaliers from the tavern had put themselves into the melee. The large brute of a man had two on either side and the smaller one stalked the last ruffian, a cat playing with a mouse.

The two hoodlums rushed the big one hoping one of them would land a good blow. With a quickness belying his size he spun on one foot his other kicking backward, heel into the air. His boot caught the one on the left under the chin, while a fist crashed down into the other punk’s nose.
While both men fell his spin carried him through, his leg careening over his head. The other fist came around catching the one he kicked in the gut. His downward swing with his leg caught the groin of the other.

The smaller Cavalier was less showy but just
as quick. He circled his prey with grace and his hands wove an intricate pattern in the air. His left hand feinted causing the ruffian to dodge to his right. The Cavalier’s right hand shot out to intercept. The impact of the ruffian’s own momentum into the oncoming fist reverberated off the alley walls. His head hit the pavement with a hard
thud
.

Lawt was still screaming and slamming his opponent’s head into the pavement. A pool of blood was beginning to form underneath them. A large gentle hand laid itself on Lawt’s shoulder. “It’s tall right, the fight is over. You can rest now, good sir.”

Lawt looked up, tears running down his face. “Lawt’s sorry. Lawt just didn’t want… He was the first one to treat Lawt like…like a friend. Lawt didn’t want him to be hurt.”

The smaller Cavalier inspected the one Lawt had pummeled. “We have a problem, Gavin.”

“What’s that, Istan?” the larger one asked.

“This one is dead.” Istan pointed to the one that lay below Lawt. “By ourselves we would be fine, even the boy would be let off with our good word, but the gorak? He will be swinging from the gallows before the sunset. We have to get them out of town.”

“But we haven’t finished yet. How do we know he can do it?” Gavin said.

“Know I can do what?” Erik asked.

              “After what has transpired here today, I think we can trust he will,” Istan replied.

The two men led Erik and Lawt out onto the street where Erik recognized the two magnificent horses he had cared for. Gavin grabbed Lawt by the forearm and led him to the large black charger, leaving Erik with Istan. Erik mounted the brown horse behind Istan and grabbed hold. It seemed Erik was leaving Armeston differently than he had planned.