Birthright: Lord of Arda (11 page)

Chapter XX

Braden

The crowd which led from the inner wall gate up to the Citadel was almost as big, if not bigger than the one at the main gate. Luckily, the guards were less strict at this gate. This allowed Ashe to relax a bit of the magic, keeping Magnus and the weapons hidden, letting the tight grouping of people hide their presence. They continued up the main road which wound up the hill leading to the Citadel. Braden could see small crowds dart off into one of the side streets, trying to get around the main grouping and cut in further up the hill. Some were already walking back through the main crowd complaining about the extortionate prices charged by one of the guards further ahead, just to guarantee a spot today. He watched a few turn back when they heard the prices quoted, others checked their purses discreetly to see they had enough. As they slowly walked up the hill, the crowds began to thin but also slow down.

“We must be getting closer to King.” Said Alex.

“No, only to the first set of checks. We should probably detach ourselves here, we are starting to get into the noblemen’s estates, so we may be able to find out some information from a messenger or servant.” Ashe replied.

Braden nodded and followed Ashe, they began to move to one side of the crowd but before they got more than three paces the crowd thickened. He turned and ushered Troy and the others back towards the other side, they had almost got to the edge when Braden heard a shout. Spinning round he recognised the voice, Ashe wasn’t behind him. Without a second thought, he pulled his sword off Magnus’s back and pushed back through the throng of people. The rest of the group was blocked off by the new serge of Alton’s population, striving to see the King. Pushing past the final two people, Braden stepped into one of the main road’s side streets, it was almost as wide as the main street itself and separated two of the noblemen’s city estates. He spotted four men stood around Ashe, one stepped a little closer to her removing his cloak and handing it to another. From the look of his clothes, he had money and power, he reached out towards Ashe touching her body. Braden’s eyes flashed wide with anger, his chest began to burn, a heavy weight pulled down on him for a split second making him pause. Then he felt as light as a feather, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As the man pushed her back towards the walls guarding the estate to their left, Ashe caught glimpse of Braden over his shoulder. He could see her hand clench and unclench. She was about to use her magic, but Braden shook his head and raised his sword. She nodded slightly, before clenching her fist one more time. Braden held the sword sheath in his left hand drawing the blade. The rasp of the metal on leather caught the attention of the closest of the four, but before he had a chance to warn his friends, Braden called out.

“Hey you! Stop! get away from her!”

For a moment, he wondered how unthreatening that had sounded. The man pressed up against Ashe turned his head sluggishly to face him, his face seemed bored until it caught a glimpse of Braden’s sword. His focus tightened on the blade and then on Braden himself, before smiling. The two men stepped closer to him, both drawing small blades from behind their backs. Ok, so Braden hadn't counted on them being armed, their leader stepped away from Ashe, one hand still pressed against the wall next to her head, keeping her in place. As he turned, Braden caught a glimpse of the scabbard at his side and rolled his eyes, maybe he had got in a little over his head. His mind was scolding him for not trying a more diplomatic route first. Bronn had always taught him to use his head before his sword, but his heart chose the sword first. The man with a cruel smile, looked over at his friend who still held his cloak and flicked his head towards Ashe.

“Hold her, I’ll deal with her after.”

Stepping away from the wall, his friend immediately took his place holding Ashe in place. Drawing his sword, the blade was a pure silver colour in stark contrast to the rest of his attire. The man was dressed head to toe in black, black boots, black trousers and a black shirt. The only colour on the man was his red hair. It was long, hanging down to his shoulders and a small red goatee adorned his chin. He was still smiling, as he walked closer to Braden, he gestured to the two with knives to step back.

“I would normally tell someone like you to bugger off but since you came at me with a sword I guess you have a death wish.”

The man looked Braden up and down sizing up his worth, both in money and in skill. Braden’s rough, worn and torn clothes made him look like a beggar. Only the cloak he had been given by the ship’s captain was worth anything. He reached up, untying the knot which held it around his shoulders and let it drop to the floor, always keeping his eyes on the red haired man.

“Is she really worth it? I mean, worth dying for? I’ll give you, that she is pretty, but pretty enough to die for, I don’t think so. Anyway, it doesn’t matter as I’m going to skewer you anyway.”

As he finished his sentence, his body tensed and set into a perfect duelling pose. Braden arms tensed and he gripped the blade tighter. This was probably going to end a lot worse than he had hoped. He had for some reason, expected the men to go running as soon as they saw him with a sword. He now stood shaking his head slightly and wondering what he had got himself into?’ Then he saw Ashe squirming under the hold of the other man and the fire on his chest burned hotter.

“Well, come on then, if you’re going to draw a sword, at least use it.”

Braden didn’t waste a moment, reacting to the man’s words he darted forward fixing his grip. He brought the sword down over his head, aiming to slice him in two. The man’s eyes shot wide open, a gaze of pure shock filled his entire face before years of training took over. Braden felt his blow deflected to one side, as the man moved quickly out of the way, he had put too much power into the strike and without hitting any solid resistance, he fell forwards. As he stumbled past the man in black he swung his blade out to his left, just in time to block a return swipe. Stopping a few paces past the man, he turned quickly to see the evil smirk that stared back at him widen.

“Well, perhaps you aren't just a beggar with a stolen sword.”

Braden was just able to block the man’s first attack, and the second, before he struck back. They became tangled in a dance of stabs and slices, blocks and deflections, counters and counter counters. Back and forth they went, stab, slash, block, slash, counter, block, punch, deflect. It seemed to Braden as if hours went past in the mere minutes, the man’s technique were flawless. He could tell he had been taught from a much younger age and to a degree much higher than Braden as well. As time wore on, he could see sweat begin to appear on the other man's head, his hair began to darken as it became wet, but Braden's body still felt light and fresh. In a brief glimpse between their interchanges, he saw that Alex had moved out from the crowd. He looked as if he was about to leap into action, but Braden waved him off with his free hand. Alex then caught a glimpse of the two men holding the knives and the other who was holding Ashe and nodded back before kneeling down. Braden smiled, when he saw Magnus attempt to jump round Alex and join the fight, only to be held back by Alex and Troy.

“Why are you smiling, peasant.”

Braden saw the man glance over towards Alex and in that moment he pushed his advantage. The split second distraction was enough for Braden to finally gain the upper hand. As he pushed the man back, he saw his eyes begin to grow wide with fear. His reflexes, honed over years, were still quick enough to keep Braden from injuring him severely but he had to give ground to keep his body in one piece. Then, just as he was about to take the man’s blade and win, he felt his feet disappear from beneath him, he felt a shooting pain run up his legs, his right ankle screaming. Falling to his back he felt the wind rush out of him, as he hit the ground. He coughed, as he tried desperately to force some air back into his lungs, feeling the cold steel against his throat. He looked up at the blade to see the man smiling down, one of his friend's next to him, dagger in hand, a smug smile plastered over his face. The first man rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder and clapped him firmly on the back, before turning his attention back to Braden.

“I have to give you credit peasant, you had me going for a while. But in the end, you lost. A lesson in life for you. I know it’s a little late, but I will tell you anyway. Always stack the odds in your favour.”

The blade cut the skin on his neck slightly forcing Braden to squirm. As he did his ring fell out from under his shirt. He glanced down at the ring and as he went to reach for it, felt a crushing blow to his arm, as the friend who had tripped him, kicked his arm to one side before pushing his foot down pinning it in place.

“Ah, did you steal that as well? It doesn’t matter, once you’re dead, I’ll take the ring and add it to my collection”.

Braden watched as the victor raised his blade away from his neck, he could see the muscles tense in his arm and he closed his eyes.

“Braden!” Ashe cried.

“Sorry.” He whispered, but to whom he didn’t know.

“Stop!” A voice shouted.

The sound echoed off the walls. Braden was still waiting for the force of the blade, his eyes squeezed shut. Then the weight on his arm was released, his curiosity forced him to open his eyes. The blade was still hovering close his neck. But the man was no longer looking at him, but at someone else. Had Alex jumped in at the last moment? Or had Ashe used her magic? He glanced over to see six armed men appear from across the side street. Three walked directly towards him, one headed towards Ashe, whilst the other two walked past them to the other friend. As the three armed men got closer they separated to show an elderly man clad in a full length robe striding confidently towards them. At the sight of the robed man, the red haired man finally pulled his blade away Braden let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to die just yet.

“Page, what is the meaning of this?” shouted the red haired man.

“I would ask the same thing, Corla? You attack one of my retainers, in the streets of the capital and then attempt to execute him.”

“One of your retainers? Don’t lie old man, just to try and save the pitiful life of a peasant. He has no clothes, let alone your crest or any papers.”

“That’s because he was on the way to get them from me. How do you think he got a sword into the city without permission from the city guards?”

Corla looked back at Braden with a look of disgust, the fact that Page had taken the pleasure of ending his life, seemed to make him even angrier.

“Isn’t that right, Dane?” Page said.

Braden looked back at that man, wondering who Dane was before he caught the man slightly nod his head, in his direction.

“Yes Sir.”

Braden glanced back at Corla and could tell he wasn’t convinced, the look in his eyes still screaming murder.

“If his name is Dane and he is one of your retainers, then why did this one call out Braden, when I was about to put my blade through his neck? And who the hell is she anyway, don’t tell me you’re hiring women guards now.”

This time Braden acted first, he had no idea why this man Page was helping him. He hoped it was out of the goodness of his heart. But if he didn’t know about Ashe he needed to protect her himself.

“I brought the new cook you were after as well Sir. I also acquired the smith you needed whilst on our travels.”

The old man’s eyes bulged, if it was at Braden’s reply or the mention of Alex Braden wasn’t sure.

“And my name is Dane Braden, Corla.”

“It’s Lord Corla, to you, peasant.” He snapped back.

He turned quickly back to the old man, shoving his sword back into its scabbard.

“Well Page, either you are telling the truth or this man is as quick with his mind, as he is with his sword. But I would warn you if he gets in my way again, you won’t be able to save him.”

Spinning away from the old man and his armed guards, he grabbed the cloak from his friend throwing it over his shoulder, revealing the bright orange boar Braden had seen the Lord wearing on his way in. Maybe, he had definitely gotten in way over his head. A stiff arm pulled Braden to his feet, as Corla disappeared into the crowd, shouting for them to make way, catching a few with his fist as he walked through. Brushing himself down Braden turned to Page and bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Lord Page.”

The armed guards stiffened at the title, each giving both him and Page a weird look before a flick of the old man’s head forced them to look away. Braden raised his head as Alex stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing Braden’s sword back into his hand. He returned the big man’s smile, Ashe stepped up next to him with Troy and Magnus on her heels. Braden watched Page survey the small group, weighing up their worth just as Corla had, but this time with a much gentler gaze.

“So the retainer, the cook and the smith I was after. Also, looks like you have brought me a stable hand. And what do we have here?”

Braden watched the old man’s eyes widen with surprise and he looked back to see that the veil of magic covering Magnus was slowly fading. In the commotion Ashe must have forgotten, that her magic was covering the lion cub from discovery. Braden stepped in front of the cub blocking him from view. Ashe tilted her head away from the old man muttering under her breath to restore the illusion as much as her battered strength could. Page only smiled and raised his hands to his chest in a sign of peace. One of the guards had caught sight of Magnus and was walking close to the cub, Braden tensed. He didn’t know what he could do against the group of guards, but he wasn’t about to let them take Magnus away. Page seemed to notice the guard and began barking orders at them to form up, the guard didn’t give a second glance at the cub as he walked into formation in front of Page facing away from the crowd.