Friends of the Crown - Book 1 of Heroes of the Realm Read online

  Chapter 3 – Fletcher the Fierce

  Over the next two weeks, the boys spent a few hours each day with Barlow in the bare courtyard beside his cottage. He spent time teaching them the proper use of the compass and how to best read and care for their maps, for they were fairly detailed and thus of much value. The bulk of the time, however, was spent acquainting them with the use of a sword over that of the hickory sticks they had been training with up to this point.

  "Remember that the sword will be heavier than the wooden staves you have used until now, but are much better balanced." He would often say, "This balance is the key now, whereas speed and strength were your former goal. Learn how your sword will move and you can make it dance!" He would place a large bit of cork on the end of each sword and instruct the boys in the intricacies of real swordplay, allowing carefully orchestrated sparring between the two. After the first few awkward days, they became more and more confident with the steel, and in a short amount of time were able to wield their weapons with as much ease and skill as they had the wooden counterparts.

  Near the end of two weeks, Neville finally asked, "Barlow, do you really think we can defend ourselves if we need to?" Brey looked to him for the answer as well, also a bit unsure of their skill.

  Barlow assumed an expression of thoughtfulness, stroking his grey beard. "I have fought with and trained many soldiers, and I have seen both the best and the worst." he said. "Were I to be required to match your skill with those I have seen, I would say you could quite adequately defend yourselves from attack by untrained brigands." In fact, he knew them to be fairly skilled swordsmen, Brey especially, and held little fear whatsoever that they could handle even skilled attackers, though their lack of experience in real combat would weigh against them at first. For this reason, he chose not to give them too high an initial opinion. Better for them to start low and learn to appreciate their skill as it is tested; and surely it will be tested at some point during their travels.

  "Now that you have gained ground in the basics of swordplay, I will teach you the tricks that may be used against you in a true battle." he said and picked up his own sword. For the next two hours, he showed them how feints and dirty tricks can be used to overcome a more skilled opponent; how to use them as well as defend against them. He finished with this warning. "Do not attempt to use these in battle unless you have practiced them to perfection, or you have no other recourse. Many of these are desperate measures and can be defeated or turned against you, as I have shown you." The boys nodded their understanding, too tired to speak at that moment.

  Barlow released the young men from his tutelage for the day and sent them home. As he watched them walk down the road, exultant even through their weariness, he said quietly to himself, 'May your dreams be yours, lads. I have given all I can to help, the rest lies within you.' With a smile, he turned to his cottage and went inside to enjoy a cup of tea.

  It had been more than three weeks since the Choosing and Brey and Nev had been working almost continuously. It was probably guilt that drove them those many days to get as much done as they could before leaving their village to pursue their own dream. Guilt over leaving their mothers, guilt over declaring independence publicly despite what many would think, and guilt over the seeming selfishness of their Choice. While sitting on the porch of the Cousins' house one evening, Nev brought this up with his mother.

  "Let me tell you of dreams, Neville." she said sitting close and holding his hands in her own. "My dream as a young woman, simple as it was, was to marry your father and live happily ever after, for I loved him more than you can imagine.” She grinned to herself and added. “You see, your father’s family did not entirely approve of me as my family was not as wealthy as they would have liked for their son. They had hoped for a marriage that would enhance their standing as well as their combined wealth. But your father loved me dearly and wished to marry me despite their disapproval.

  “Even though it was only for a short time, I was able to live my dream. How could I fail to allow you the same chance I had? Often times, dreams are not only all one has, but all one needs."

  "But what of you?" he asked, choking up. "I am afraid you will go back to the way you were."

  Abigail Morton heaved a great sigh, looking off across the field. "I do not serve the memories of your father and sister well by failing to trust that the Creator keeps them well in the Beyond." She turned her eyes to his. "My grief and my drinking only served to show me my own selfishness in wanting them back in this world where they would not be always safe and cared for as they are now in the arms of the Creator. I will not return to that life, Neville. For my own sake and for yours, I will remain strong in this."

  Nev put his arms around his mother's neck and hugged her close, tears of happiness and relief coming to his eyes.

  Brey too had his worries and guilt. He was concerned his mother would not be able to tend the farm alone while Carl was at his smithy and he felt a certain amount of guilt for missing the day his mother was to wed.

  "I wish we could be here for the day of your wedding to Carl." Brey said one morning after breakfast. "We hadn't thought of that before the Choosing. I'm sorry." Brey hung his head in real sadness and shame at the thoughtlessness of it.

  Ellen stroked Brey's hair as she had when he was a little boy and spoke. "My darling Aubrey, never regret doing what you feel is right. The Choice is yours to make for a reason." She sat beside him, her arm draped over his shoulders. "Like your father before you, the man you have become must not only make difficult decisions, but must be willing to live with them. I will miss having you there as much as you will miss being there. But I know your heart and Neville's will be with us as we speak the words." She smiled and stroked his hair once more adding, "I wager if you listen carefully on the day we are to wed, you can hear them as though you were here."

  For the next few days, Brey and Nev gathered the things they felt they would need and created a pack to carry with them on the road. In addition to their swords, hats, and clothing, they packed dry provisions, flint and tinder, basic cooking utensils, and two pots. They still lacked a few items, but felt they could acquire them in Newellen as they passed through. With three days until their departure, they were as ready as they could be.

  The morning of their last day in Carsby, the boys awoke to a bustling household. They could hear the hushed voices of their mothers and Carl in the front of the house. Just as they were starting to get out of bed, they heard a call from the main room. "Aubrey! Neville! Its time to rise and get dressed; we have an errand to run in the village and would like you to come along."

  "All right, mother." answered Nev.

  "Why all the hustle?" asked Brey, as he struggled into his trousers.

  "Dunno. Maybe they want to fetch some goods for stores before we leave." suggested Nev in reply.

  They dressed hastily and washed, then climbed down from the loft. They stopped in their tracks as they saw their mothers and Carl dressed in their best clothes. Both women and Carl wore great smiles on their faces.

  "Surprise, lads!" yelled Carl with an expansive wave of his strong arms. "It seems you'll not miss the wedding after all!"

  Brey and Nev stood with their mouths agape. "What-?" they began simultaneously

  Abby and Ellen laughed. "We have decided to wed today rather than wait, so you could be there. After all, Carl will need a second to stand beside him as the 'man of the house' gives me away." Ellen said with a smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy.

  "He felt it wouldn't be right for you to miss out." added Abby. "Especially after going to all the trouble of asking for your permission, Aubrey." she finished with a fond smile at Carl for his charming and old-fashioned ways.

  "Since I will stand as matron, it seemed fitting for you, Nev, to stand second as Brey will have to act as father of the bride."

  "So," asked Ellen, "will you finish preparing yourselves? We ha
ven't got all day and the Servant of the Creator expects us soon."

  The boys quickly changed into their best clothing and they all rode into Carsby in Carl's wagon.

  The ceremony was performed in the little sanctuary dedicated to the Creator just off the Council Hall in the center of the village. It was a small ceremony overall. Aside from the principles, the only other people in attendance were Mace and Barlow, as witnesses and, of course, friends of the happy couple.

  After the ceremony, all that remained to be done was to celebrate until sundown, when the new couple will begin their life together.

  The next day's dawn found much activity in the household. The boys were packing the last of the things they would need for their journey and Abby was preparing breakfast for them.

  "Do you have everything packed, boys?" asked Abby as she spooned oatmeal into bowls for their meal.

  "I think so, mother." replied Nev. "We will have to get what we don't have in Newellen, I guess."

  Brey set his pack down near the door beside Nev's. "I think all we should need to get is a good cloak and maybe some newer boots." he said looking at his worn brown boots.

  "Perhaps we can help with that." said Ellen, emerging from her bedroom, finishing putting her hair up with the silver comb she always wore. A moment later Carl emerged wearing a silly grin and carrying two bundles.

  Carl laid the bundles on the table near the boys. "We rather liked the custom Barlow mentioned of giving a gift to those who are to journey far from home." he said.

  Both boys looked curiously at the bundles and then back to Ellen and Carl.

  "While I may not have agreed with your decision to journey on your own, I could not in good conscience see you sent off without all you will need." Carl finished, opening one bundle.

  He grinned as he pulled from the cloth two sturdy leather sheathes with belt knives which gleamed as though only newly forged; which indeed they had been, by his own hands. "A man needs a good knife he can rely upon on the road. While I know you each have a knife, I hope you will find these useful. They are a bit longer and made of stronger steel than your blades." He presented one each to Nev and Brey.

  The women each grabbed one of the cloth bundles and shook them open. "We would like for you to wear these on your journey." began Abby. "These cloaks were your fathers'."

  She turned to Nev. "Neville, this cloak belonged to your father, Jacob. It is one of the last items left to remind me of him; this and some gifts which he and I exchanged. I want you to wear this on your journey to remember him and me." She asked Nev to stand and placed it on his shoulders. It was a fine wool cloak of light brown trimmed with green.

  "And this was your father's, Aubrey." said Ellen, holding up the blue-trimmed, dark brown woolen drape. "Though he preferred his woolen coat, he cherished this, as it was a gift from me on our wedding day. I am sure he would be very pleased to know you will wear it as you pursue your dream." She placed the cloak about his shoulders and stood back to look at the young men. Both women smiled, though they had tears flowing from their eyes.

  "Well then," began Carl, placing his hand lightly on his new wife's shoulder, "I had practiced something of a speech for the occasion, but it seems the words have left me." The big smith stepped forward and put his hand out to Brey. "Keep yourself safe and well, lad. Write us if you've a mind to; I am sure your mother would feel better to hear of you from time to time." He shook the young man's hand and stepped over to Nev.

  "You've shown yourself to be a man beyond your years these past two years, Nev. Keep your head about you as you have and your journey will be a great success." He shook Nev's hand and stepped back a moment.

  "Oh, come here you two!" He reached out and grabbed both boys in a spine-bending hug for a few moments. When he finally stepped back again, his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Off with you now, else I will cry right here in front of your mothers."

  Brey and Nev exchanged a brief glance and turned back to the adults. "Um, -mum?" asked Brey.

  "Yes, dear" Ellen answered, dabbing at the tears in her eyes.

  "Do you think Nev and I could eat our breakfast before we leave?"

  Everyone broke into fits of laugher.

  "Of course, boys," she laughed, "eat your fill." Their mothers’ set about feeding them and themselves as well. It was a fine meal; their last together for quite some time.

  It was no more than an hour past sunrise when Brey and Nev finally set off on the adventure they dreamed of for so long! Each had a pack slung over one shoulder and a sword hung from the hip.

  They walked through Carsby as the shops were beginning to open and the laborers were getting to their work. One or two folk stopped to watch the 'independents' as they made their way out of the village. At the far end of town, they stopped at Barlow's cottage, but he did not answer the knock at the door. They were saddened that they could not wish their mentor and friend farewell. However, about a mile of out town, they saw Barlow sitting on a stump by the side of the road.

  "Thought you might have changed your minds." he said with a grin. He rose and looked critically at the position of the morning sun. "Making a late start of it, aren't you?"

  "Our mum's wanted to send us off with a good breakfast and some gifts." said Nev, showing off his cloak and new knife.

  Brey added, "It seems they were taken by your idea of a gift for those leaving the village."

  Barlow laughed with a twinkle in his eye. "I have been known to rub off on folks from time to time!" He put his hands on his hips and looked each of them squarely in the eye. "Are you two ready for the road ahead?" he asked, gesturing to the dusty track that led away from the only home they had ever known.

  They both looked back at the village, taking in its every detail so they would remember it always. They turned and looked down the road that led to the dream they had held in their hearts since they were young boys.

  "I'm ready." said Brey finally.

  "And I." said Nev with a nod.

  "Well then, its time to find out if your dream is yours for the taking or if it is only a flight of fancy inside your heads." he said. "To the road!"

  He reached out and shook each young man's hand. "Remember the things you have learned. From me and from all of life's lessons. Each will serve you well in its own time."

  "Farewell, Barlow. And thank you. For your stories, your lessons, and for believing in our dream too." said Nev with genuine gratitude.

  "Yes," agreed Brey, "thank you. Farewell."

  They turned to go and Barlow added, "One day you will return and then it will be your turn to tell me stories!" He chuckled as he always did, then turned and walked back toward Carsby without looking back.

  They stood and watched their mentor for a few minutes then they turned and began walking the road that led from Carsby to Newellen and the world beyond.

  The adventurers walked in silence for about a mile then Nev asked. "What do you suppose it will be like, Brey?"

  His companion thought for a moment, his head tilted slightly to one side. "I don’t know for sure, but I think it should be grand!" he paused, then added, "Of course some of it will be boring, what with all the walking we will have to do to get there."

  Nev laughed loudly, "You can't deny that I suppose. Maybe we could buy a horse along the way."

  Now it was Brey who laughed. "A horse!? We have barely enough to eat with until we can find our fortune!"

  "I suppose that's right enough." he said with a sigh. "Do you really think we can make Newellen in a week?" asked after a few more minutes of silence.

  "Well," Brey said slowly, "Carl said it's less ninety miles and can be ridden in two full days with a horse and wagon. If we can keep a good pace and don't over-push, I don't see why we can't make it in seven days easily."

  The young men walked all that day, keeping an unhurried but steady pace. The landscape seemed to them to be no different from that around Carsby, a fact they fou
nd faintly disappointing. The same oaks and maples and the same brush and prairie grasses they have seen everyday of their lives. Though they hadn't expected a marked difference, they had envisioned some sort of visible change as they walked further away.

  They stopped about an hour before sundown to make camp a short distance from the road. The small clearing was near a brook and even had a rough stone fire ring left by some traveler in the past. They laid a fire, spread out their blankets, and took a small meal of softened jerky and a bit of bread. After their meal they lay back and looked up as the stars were making their hesitant entrance, almost seeming to show themselves one at a time.

  "Well, Nev," said Brey, "this is our first night as truly independent men. What do you think of that?" He smiled up at the stars and breathed a great sigh of satisfaction.

  "To be honest Brey, I am real excited but a little scared too. We have never been this far from home before. Never even a trip to Newellen with my dad!"

  He rolled to his side to look at his friend. "I have been over all of it in my head and I can't help thinking we may have missed something despite our careful plans."

  Brey too rolled on to one elbow and faced Nev. "What do you think we might have missed?"

  Nev shook his head slightly. "Something that Barlow said before we began walking that has nagged at the back of my head all day. Something about all of life's lessons." He cocked his head to the side and tried to grasp the elusive thought. "I mean, we have trained ourselves in all we would need to know, right?" He sat up as though he couldn't be comfortable until he worked this out.

  "We have trained ourselves to walk long distances, miles and miles at a time. We have learned to use a sword to defend ourselves. We have learned to read a map fairly well and we have learned how to sail." He scrunched up his face in frustration. "I can't see what we missed, but I can’t stop my head from telling me we have." He finished, hands spread wide, looking intently at Brey as though for some insight.

  Brey too sat up, cross-legged, across from Nev. "Perhaps he was saying something about using our manners or some such." he suggested. "Maybe travelers who are rude do not fair too well."

  "I don't think that's it." said Nev, his face still screwed up in thought.

  They sat silently across from each other in the firelight. The only sounds being the light breeze, the occasional crackling of the fire, and a few sounds from animals that scurry in the dark looking for their next meal.

  After what seemed a very long time, Brey had a thought. "Nev, do you suppose Barlow may have been telling us something of being a man. I mean an independent man who doesn't have his mother there to remind him of things he should do or say?" he felt his mind start to race as the thought began to form more coherently in his mind. "Perhaps he was reminding us it is time to take all those lessons and use them as adults instead of children."

  Now Nev caught the idea of what his companion was saying. "Of course! The other side of the page, Brey! Time to act as the adults we chose to be!" Nev felt a sort of clicking into place in his mind with this thought. This is what had been nagging at him all day.

  "Brey! I think you've solved it!" he cried with relief and a sort of exultation.

  "But Nev, I have no idea how to act like an adult." Brey responded. "How can we do it if we don't know how?"

  "Don't you see, Brey? Barlow told us already. Remember all life's lessons!" Nev grasped his friend by the arm in his intensity. "We don't have to change ourselves; we need only keep in mind what our mum's and others have taught us. The things we learned in school, the things we learned of the Creator and the things we learned at home were all taught for us to use now, when we are men instead of boys!" Nev stood and raised his arms to the sky and laughed.

  "Brey! We are men now! We understand! We really understand!!" He spun around and danced a little jig as he laughed some more.

  Brey stood as well and watched his friend for a moment, letting the last thoughts sink into his mind. He realized Nev was absolutely right. Every time his mother said to him 'It's for your own good' or 'Some day you will understand' suddenly became clear, today was that ‘someday’. He too threw up his arms and danced and laughed.

  Soon the young men, for they were boys no longer after having come to this revelation, sat back down and laughed in fits and starts as they made ready for bed. Sleep was not as long in coming as either would have thought, given their excitement, but they had walked a very long way and exhaustion soon took its hold.

  The young men awakened before dawn and had a strong cup of tea with a breakfast of bread and cheese. Though neither showed any physical signs of it, they each felt profoundly different. As they broke camp, they were more meticulous in the cleaning of their dishes and folded their blankets quite carefully, even though neither had been particularly fastidious prior to that day. After burying their fire and refilling their water skins, they set off.

  The sun had risen just above the horizon and the morning felt cool and refreshing. Each stood a bit taller and even had a bit of a swagger in their step that day. They strode with confidence, packs set high on their shoulders and one hand on their sword pommels. This day they felt like men, true men.

  They spent the next several days walking and talking for hours, resting briefly and moving on, eager to get to Newellen and the next leg of their adventure. The training they had undertaken paid off handsomely as they walked nearly fifteen miles each of those days. Just before noon on the fifth day out, they were walking around a long bend in the road and came upon another traveler. He was a short wiry man with a long nose and stringy dark hair with a ragged blanket over his shoulders. He walked with a stoop that didn't quite ring true to Nev's eye.

  "Brey, look at that fellow walking towards us. Does he look quite right to you?" he asked.

  "What do you mean?" Brey responded.

  "Something about him doesn't seem right. I think we should get past him as soon as we can and make some distance before stopping for lunch." said Nev nervously.

  They were nearly abreast of him when Nev's suspicion became reality. He appeared to be shuffling along painfully, then swiftly flung the old blanket that had been draped about his shoulders to one side and drew his sword, leveling it at Brey's chest.

  "Ha! Welcome, lads, to my little stretch of the road!" he said in a rough tenor voice. "I am Fletcher the Fierce and you are my latest victims. You will kindly hand over your goods and money to me now." The robber stared intently into Brey's eyes, ignoring Nev almost entirely.

  Nev's mind was flung back in time to the loss of his father and sister along this same road long ago. Though he had not planned to do so, his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. His blood began slowly to boil as he imagined this man, or someone like him posing in front of his father and Milli and delivering a similar outrageous demand. Suddenly Nev dropped his pack, found his blade in his hand, and struck down the blade of the robber, who jumped back in surprise then immediately assumed a combat position.

  "Well, well, well. I had expected the lankier youth to be the danger here. I can see my mistake and will remedy it forthwith!" he finished his statement with a swift lunge aimed straight at Nev's chest. However, Nev had been trained by Barlow Braydon, the very finest of swordsmen and well-noted sword master. The young man dodged the lazy lunge with ease and came back at the highwayman with two swift overhand strikes followed by low lunge at the man's leg.

  Fletcher backed off and composed himself. He swirled the tip of his sword right in Nev's line of sight, making it harder for him to read the man's next move. "I can see you possess a wee bit of training. I shall have to see that my next strike will not miss its mark!" again he came at Nev as he spoke his last word, trying to catch Nev unaware. Between the talk and the swirling sword tip, Nev had momentarily lost his concentration and almost reacted too late to the robber's attack. Nev was beaten back and found himself completely on the defensive and barely able to hang
on. Just then, there was a flash from his right and the attackers blows ceased as Brey jumped into the fray and easily beat back the man's fierce attack.

  Brey gave Fletcher a grim smile and said, "I can see by your style of attack and your lines of stance that you have been given military training. I recognize it because our teacher was a military man and a great swordsman. He also showed us the weakness of the strict military style!" With this, Brey attacked at the last word, just as the highwayman had done, but took a lower and faster line that stayed low then ran high for a moment and ran low again ending in a quick thrust to the chest. In this quick exchange Brey, who was a very astute pupil of swordsmanship, came quite close to running the man through. As the young men had never trained at attacking in tandem, Nev hung back waiting to see if he was needed. Knowing Brey's skill as he did, he was fairly certain he would not.

  Fletcher circled to the side, keeping a close eye on both young men as best he could. "I see I was right at the first, it is you I need be concerned with. Well, bucco, lets see how you handle a style that is not so military."

  The wiry little man started circling his blade low and moving it from side to side in an irregular pattern, trying to throw off Brey's attempts to anticipate his next move. Barlow had shown the boys how the trick works and pointed out it is a very difficult attack to defend against since you must react rather than anticipate. However, nearly every attacker using this tactic will attack one side or the other rather than the center; usually their strong side, meaning their sword arm side. Attacks up the center from this trick are almost always from a very skilled opponent who is good enough that he should not need to resort to it anyway.

  Brey kept his guard steady, only slightly lower than normal and waited to see what his adversary would do. Fletcher feinted to his weak side and then swung his blade around to his strong side and made to strike at Brey's weak side. Having guessed that this would be the attackers line he easily warded the blow and forced the man's blade low then lunged quickly, piercing the criminal's sword arm at the bicep. Fletcher doubled at the waist and screamed as his sword dropped from his now-limp fingers.

  Brey stepped forward quickly and placed the point of his sword against the robber's throat. "You will not move!"

  Fletcher the Fierce looked up with pain clearly written on his face. "It seems I haven't much choice, now doesn't it?" He sat down on the road and held tightly to his injured arm. "D'you think you could find something to staunch the bleeding at least?"

  "Where's your pack? Do you have a horse?" demanded Nev, who was still shaking from his encounter.

  The thief looked at Nev and said insolently, "Haven't got any, boy."

  "Liar!" yelled Nev, trying to draw his sword.

  Brey held out a hand, crying, "Nev! Hold up! Of course he has a pack and likely a horse." Then pressing the point of his sword more firmly on the neck of his captive, he said, "Haven't you?"

  Fletcher cowered a bit, holding up his bloody hands, "All right, all right!! Its back up the road a bit, no need to get heavy-handed with the pig sticker now." The little man's demeanor had changed a bit now that he was a captive; he had become more compliant – even sniveling.

  "Nev, can you grab the packs? I think we should march this fellow back to his campsite and see to his wound. After that, we can decide what to do with him. What do you think?"

  Nev stared at the robber a moment longer then said, "Right. Let's do that then." and turned to pick up their packs.

  Brey ordered the man to rise and lead the way to his camp. They walked perhaps a half-mile up the road and turned off to the side then marched some one hundred paces into the woods to an ill-kept camp in a small clearing.

  "I'll find something to bind the wound." said Nev, who began rummaging through the various packs and piles strewn about the camp.

  Brey prodded Fletcher toward a tree to one side of the camp. "Sit down by that tree." ordered Brey.

  "Here now, there's no need to get pushy about it!" exclaimed the little thief. "I'm an injured man, you should treat me a bit more tender, you know." He sat down by the tree and looked up at Brey sullenly. "You know, the first chance I get, I'm going to cut your throat." he said quietly. He tried to stare Brey down, but only succeeded in looking desperate.

  "Then we will see you don't get the chance." replied Brey matter-of-factly.

  In short order, Nev found some cloth to make a bandage and bound the wound in Fletcher's arm, then tied the wiry man's arms around the tree behind him with a length of rope he found in the little man's packs. The robber was uncomfortable but not in extreme pain. His horse was staked out across the clearing.

  Brey and Nev walked to the other side of the camp pretending to look at the horse and spoke in low tones to avoid Fletcher overhearing them. "What happened to you back there on the road?" demanded Brey. "You could have been run through!"

  "I don't know. I just thought of my dad and Milli being robbed this same way and I couldn't stop myself." said Nev painfully. "Thanks for saving me, he very nearly had me."

  "You probably could have taken him had you not lost your head. Barlow warned us that battle is for the thinking man; the rash man is almost always beaten."

  "I know, I know." responded Nev. "What do we do with him now? Should we leave him here?"

  Brey considered this for a moment. "Well, if he gets loose he may go back to robbing others on the road, despite his injured arm. If he doesn't get loose, he may die of hunger or thirst. I wouldn't feel right about that."

  Nev sighed heavily. "I agree; we can’t just leave him here to die. That would make us no better than the robber who killed my father." Nev thought a moment longer about it. "I supposed the right thing to do would be to turn him in to the constables at Newellen."

  "That's what I think too." replied Brey. "There's still plenty of day light, we could pack him along with us and drive him right in to Newellen with us tomorrow." Nev nodded his agreement.

  The young men, made a pack of Fletcher's booty and ties it to the horse, they then untied him from the tree, and made ready to leave. The robber's hands were tied together in front of him and he was warned there would be a sword at his back every step of the way. He scowled at them, but made no comment.

  "Hold on, I have an idea." said Nev. He grabbed another length of rope and tied one end to the ankle of their captive and the other around his own waist. "This way if he tries to run he will have to drag me with him."

  Brey nodded his approval. The young men shouldered their packs and prepared to march.

  Nev smiled a bit and said, "Onward, villain! We are bound for Newellen and haven't a moment to lose." With this, he laughed and prodded the man with his sword tip.

  "Here now!" cried Fletcher, spinning to face him. "Are you two gonna poke me with a sword every time you want me to move? You could just as easily say please, you know!"

  "Please?" snorted Brey. "You want courtesy after trying to rob us?"

  "Well, a fella's got to make a living, you know! Some folks farm, some folks are millers, and some folks rob people." replied the little thief, as though each vocation was equally acceptable. "An' I ain't much of a farmer or a miller." With that, the scrawny little man stood straight, turned around, and began walking back toward the road.

  It was decided to be too dangerous to allow Fletcher to ride as he may try to get away. Leading the horse they walked for three hours and rested. Fletcher was not fairing well and it was obvious he was in great pain. They rested a bit longer than planned to allow him to recover. They resumed their march and turned from the road with over an hour to go before dusk. They allowed their prisoner a small meal and plenty of water to help him recover. Then he was once again tied tightly to a tree. This time, his legs were also bound to make escape that much more difficult; though that wasn't much of a concern, since exhaustion dragged him into sleep within minutes.

  "Should we take turns watching him, Brey?" asked Nev. />
  He took a long look at their captive and replied, "I don't think he will even wake up before dawn, let alone summon the strength to escape."

  "That walk did seem to knock some of the tough out of him, didn't it?" said Nev, "I suppose you're right. But I am going to keep my knife close to hand, in any case." They prepared their bedrolls and lay down to sleep.

  That night Nev had trouble sleeping. He thought of all that happened, his attacking Fletcher in a rage particularly. Since his father's death, he had never really had an outlet for anger. He had felt his pain and his sorrow and even his healing. The rage had squatted silently, waiting for its chance to be satisfied and Fletcher provided that chance. He wondered what would have happened, how he would have felt, had the wiry thief not gotten the upper hand. How would he have felt if he had killed Fletcher the Fierce for a crime he in all likelihood didn't commit? Nev pondered this question until sleep finally overcame him.