100.
In Stonebridge
“Uncle! Have you seen this?”
“What is
it?” Ody Dans leaned on Derian Chapman’s
arm as he climbed down from the carriage that had brought him from The Spray. Derian handled his uncle a piece of paper
while a crowd jostled around them, climbing the wide stone stairs at the
entrance to Assembly Hall. Derian
recognized other Assemblymen in the mix, but most were onlookers, drawn by the
news that the new Commander of the City Guard would be invested today. Ody Dans stood still for a moment, then
looked from the note to Derian, who said, “Wallis named himself and three
others, but not Milo.”
Dans’s
expression was as bland as usual. “And
this matters because…?” Dans shook his
head. “The Assembly may choose from the nominees put forward by the Assistant
Commander. But it has the power to
elevate any member of the Guard to the Commander’s rank. We could even select you, Derian.” A short laugh. “You should beseech the gods that we spare
you!”
“But who
will put forward Milo’s name?” Derian
pulled open one of five tall wooden doors of Assembly Hall for his uncle. They joined the throng moving into the Hall.
“Patience,
nephew. Watch and listen. Learn.”
Milo sat
with nineteen other guardsmen on two benches near the north wall of Assembly
Hall, tucked away under a balcony that seated some of the crowd. Like his fellows, he was unarmed; the twenty soldiers
attended the Assembly as invited guests only.
Two dozen other guards stood duty around the hall, each with a hand on
the hilt of a sheathed short sword.
Theirs was a ceremonial role for the most part; the Speaker had not had
to call on the guardsmen to restore order to a meeting of the Assembly for a
generation. One guardsman, near the
front of the Hall, the western end, held an enormous spear upright at his side. Benches in the center of the hall, along the
south wall, and on the balcony were lined with people who had come to watch.
Stonebridge’s
Assemblymen, forty of them, sat at the western end of the Hall on three raised
curved tiers. The arrangement brought
every Assemblyman close to the Speaker’s table, which stood on the floor in the
middle. Milo spotted Ody Dans in the
second tier of Assemblymen, waiting impassively with hands folded on his ample stomach,
while other Assemblymen whispered around him.
Between the Assembly proper and the audience was a wooden railing and an
empty space about twenty feet across.
The ceremonial spearman and three other sheriffs stood in this space
facing the audience, ready to defend the Assemblymen from public interference.
The
spearman thumped the floor as the man at the center table stood. The crowd of observers quieted, and the Assemblymen
stopped whispering. Milo recognized the
Speaker, Frideric Bardolf, one of Ody Dans’s guests at the party last summer at
The Spray. Bardolf made a little speech, welcoming
visitors to the Assembly meeting and cautioning them to maintain quiet so the Assemblymen
could attend to the testimony they would hear that day. Milo only half-listened to Bardolf; instead, his
attention focused on four men seated at the front of the crowd. The front benches were reserved for witnesses
who would be called from their seats to stand near the railing. Trymian Wallis sat with the three men he had
designated as potential Commanders of the Guard: Bryce Dalston, Earm Upton, and
Acwel Kent. Milo pursed his lips. Earm and Acwel were honest sheriffs, but
clearly not qualified to lead the Guard.
Bryce had much more experience, was good with a sword, and was well
liked by the men. But he also spoke with
a lisp and had an eyelid that drooped; his left eye constantly looked as if he
were falling asleep. It would be easy
for the Assembly to underestimate him. Wallis chooses his rivals carefully, or so
he thinks.
Frideric
Bardolf sat down, and an Assemblyman rose from the end chair of the lowest tier. By musing on Wallis’s nominations, Milo had
missed the name; he turned to Hrodgar Wigt beside him with raised
eyebrows. Hrodgar mouthed, “Verge
Courney.”
Three strides brought Courney to the
rail. He looked younger than most of the
Assemblymen and wore a white shirt and a fur-lined gray cloak. Milo guessed this must be the latest style
for wealthy men in Stonebridge. Courney
had an irritating habit of brushing his black hair out of his eyes, because his
front locks kept falling across his face.
In a loud voice, Courney also welcomed visitors to the Assembly (quite
unnecessarily, since Bardolf had already done so), and explained that the Assemblymen
would take testimony from four candidates put forward by Assistant Commander of
the City Guard, Trymian Wallis. The Assembly
might then decide to interrogate other persons, and might call on anyone
present to give testimony. Finally, the Assembly
would either select a new Commander of the Guard and invest him in his office
or, if no final decision had been reached, continue the matter at the next Assembly
meeting. Courney must have brushed back
his wayward hair a dozen times in this speech; it was a relief when he finally called
on the first witness.
The interrogation began with Earm
Upton. Verge Courney summoned Earm to
the rail and bade him swear that he would speak truthfully. After the sheriff swore his oath, Speaker
Bardolf asked him a series of questions: How long have you served in the City
Guard? How much battle experience have
you had? What were former Commander
Tondbert’s best and worst qualities?
What is the mission of the City Guard, as you understand it? And finally: why are you fit to command the
Guard?
Earm stood at the rail two strides from
Courney and began speaking to the Assemblymen in a quiet voice. The crowd behind him rustled its impatience,
because they couldn’t hear, and the rustling made things worse. The spear-holding guard thumped them to silence. People collectively leaned forward and
strained to listen. Earm began again and
kept his answers short: He had served five years in the Guard. He had fought against Falcons or Hawks four
times in street battles. Commander
Tondbert was brave, and Earm refused to say anything bad about the recently
deceased. The Guard was to enforce the
law. Finally, Earm believed he was fit
to command because he had proven his loyalty to the city and his effectiveness
as a soldier by the battles he had fought.
Bardolf nodded to Courney, who asked in
a loud voice if the Assemblymen had questions for Sheriff Upton. No one did, and Courney directed Earm to sit
down.
Acwel Kent testified next. His answers were not much more interesting
than Earm’s. He had been a Guardsman
slightly longer than Earm, but his duties in the Citadel had limited him to two
battles with street toughs. (“You can’t
really count knocking a few heads when you’re rousting drunks,” Acwel explained,
which drew laughter from Assemblymen and observers alike.) Acwel said Tondbert’s best quality was his
friendliness with the men, but he suggested that Tondbert sometimes sent men on
poorly planned operations. The City
Guard’s mission was to do whatever the Stonebridge Assembly ordered, he
said. He was well prepared to serve as
commander, Acwel said, because of his familiarity with all aspects of the
Citadel: the kitchen, the stable, the armory, the training ground, and most of
all, the men.
Several Assemblymen wanted to question
Acwel. Speaker Bardolf recognized
Kingsley Averill, an elderly man with long white hair, seated opposite Ody Dans. Averill was very tall and thin, and when he
leaned on the railing of the second tier he looked like he might tumble forward
onto the Assemblymen below him. Averill
asked Acwel Kent for examples of Commander Tondbert’s poorly planned operations. Undoubtedly Acwel had anticipated this
question and he responded with a list of Tondbert’s miscalculations. To no one’s surprise, Acwel’s list included
the raid on Gaudy’s Tavern, which had
decimated the Guard. “And last, Tondbert
struck a pact with Bo Leanberth and the Hawks, a mistake that cost him his
life.”
Again, several Assemblymen wanted to
ask more questions. Speaker Bardolf
recognized Ody Dans, who asked, “Sheriff Kent, has the treachery of the Hawks
been repaid?”
“Aye, Sir. Leanberth, Goes, and Acwellan are dead. The Hawks have been crushed.”
Milo expected Dans to ask the obvious
next question—Who is responsible for the
Guard’s success in this matter? But the
bland-faced Assemblyman sat down, yielding the floor. Next to Milo, Hrodgar squirmed in his seat
and cleared his throat as if he wanted to speak. But the moment passed. Guardsmen knew they were to speak only if
questioned.
Bryce Dalston was next. Milo thought: Naturally, Wallis puts himself last.
He can agree with Bryce on any substantive point, so that he doesn’t
look a fool. And then he’ll remind the
Assemblymen that he has had access to Tondbert’s records. Milo looked intently at Ody Dans, again
sitting serenely with hands on his belly.
What game are you playing at,
Master Dans?
Bryce answered the same questions. He had been in the City Guard nineteen
years. He had survived ten or fifteen
important fights with Falcons and Hawks.
Commander Tondbert was really good at collecting secrets: “But I don’t
s’pose I need to tell you all, do I?” A
few people in the audience laughed aloud, but the Assembly’s stony silence
quieted them. Tondbert’s greatest
weakness? “He was a damn fool. He wanted to be Commander of the Guard, with no idea wot the Guard should do.”
The duties of the City Guard? “Stonebridge needs us so ordinary folk can
sleep in peace, ’n so artisans ’n merchants can go about their business without
bein’ robbed. And, I s’pose, if some
damn castle lord brings an army ’gainst us, the Guard should protect the city. Not that we could, not with the arms we got.”
Someone in the audience shouted, “Hear,
hear!” And Milo heard affirmative
whispers among his fellows. But the
spear thumper thumped for quiet.
Bryce’s answer to the final question
was most surprising of all. “I been with
the Guard nineteen years, learned a few things.
Fit to command? Nah!”
At least ten Assemblymen leaped to
their feet, but Speaker Bardolf immediately asked, “You say you are not fit to
command, Sheriff Dalston? Why not?”
“Not good enough, that’s why. Old as I am, I can still swing a blade. But the boys know I got no head for
strategy. They’d be fools to depend on
any plan I made.”
Bardolf motioned with both arms to
silence the Assemblymen behind him; for a moment he looked like an eagle
flapping its wings as she settles on her nest.
On the tiers surrounding him the Assemblymen reseated themselves. “Sheriff Dalston. Acwel Kent and Earm Upton have told us why
they should serve as Commander of the Guard.
In your opinion, are they qualified?”
Bryce Dalston half turned to look at
his comrades. “Nah. Meaning no offense, boys.”
“What about Assistant Commander
Wallis?”
Bryce faced the Speaker. “Nah.”
Bardolf: “In your opinion the Assistant
Commander is not qualified to lead the City Guard?”
“He is not.”
Bardolf waited for more, but Dalston
merely frowned back at him. Trymian
Wallis jumped to his feet to seize Bryce’s arm.
“What are you saying, man?
Ungrateful fool!” But Bryce shook
him off and kept his attention on Speaker Bardolf.
The Speaker pointed to Courney, who
intoned: “Are there any questions for Sheriff Dalston?” Half the Assemblymen leaped to their
feet. Bardolf glanced over his shoulder
and pointed. “Assemblyman Ware.”
Milo had heard the name from Derian
Chapman. Lunden Ware and Ody Dans were
the two most prominent moneylenders in Stonebridge, which made them rivals in
business and allies in city politics.
Derian said they both wanted the city to expand its influence, and together
they had convinced the Assembly to mint only high quality coins in limited
numbers. But in eight months in
Stonebridge, Milo had never seen Ware.
The banker was a short, thin man with
brown hair, seated next to Verge Courney and dressed much like him. Ware gripped the handrail of the first tier
and waited for the other Assemblymen to sit.
Trymian Wallis was still standing next to Bryce, who continued to ignore
him.
“Sheriff Dalston! You have just testified that the Assistant
Commander is not qualified to lead the Guard.
Please tell us why.”
Wallis was apoplectic. “Wait!
You must let me speak!”
Scores of people were talking all over
the Hall. The spearman thumped his spear
repeatedly until the commotion calmed down.
Verge Courney waved his hand for silence and shouted. “Please!
Everybody! Commander Wallis will
answer questions in a moment. For now,
we must let Sheriff Dalston speak. Sheriff,
please, answer Assemblyman Ware’s question.
Tell us, in your opinion, why is the Assistant Commander not qualified
to command the Guard?”
“I’ve seen him beat new recruits to
frighten them. I’ve seen him kill an
innocent man. I’ve been told he collects
secrets, like Tondbert. And, well, you
should ask them.” Bryce pointed to the
north wall, where Milo sat with the other guardsmen.
“This is outrageous!” Wallis looked red as a beet. “I demand to speak! I have served the City Guard for fifteen
years. I know how to defend this city,
better than anyone else.”
Assembly Hall quieted, listening to
Wallis. Milo and the other guardsmen
were standing to get a better view. Acwel Kent and Earm Upton also rose, and they
pushed Bryce Dalston to one side so they could stand between him and the
Assistant Commander.
“Yes!
There have been recruits who died from wounds suffered during
training. Under my watch, yes! And I would do it again! The City Guard must have hard men, men who
can fight. Bryce Dalston should know
better than lose heart over some failed recruit. If he has such a soft heart, we can move him
to kitchen duty.”
Wallis leaned on the rail, jabbing a
finger at the Assemblymen. “And
yes! I know lots of secrets in this
city. How could it be otherwise, if the
Guard is to do its duty? I know when the
silver is delivered from Ham Roweson’s mines.
It is the business of the Guard to know this. I know when shipments of wine or lumber go by
Hill Corral on their way to Down’s
End. I know which of you have borrowed
money from Master Dans and Master Ware. I
know when meat and grain comes in from the Downs. I know when castle lords send so-called
‘friendly messages’ to important men in our city. I’m supposed to know these things—and lots
more!”
As Wallis shouted his way through his
speech, one of the guardsmen left his mates and began walking toward the four sheriffs
at the bar. An armed duty guard blocked
his way for a moment, but when the sheriff raised empty hands, the duty guard
let him pass. Wallis, intent on the thinly
veiled threats he had been hurling at the Assemblymen, only noticed the young
man when he came close.
“How dare you come here! You have duty in the Citadel!” If possible, Wallis became even redder. “Get him out of here!” Wallis rushed at the spear thumper and tried
to pull the ceremonial weapon from his hand.
But Acwel Kent and Earm Upton grabbed Wallis’s arms and pulled him back.
Shouts and curses filled the air. Several duty guards ran to join their fellows
between the audience and the Assembly proper.
The spear thumper hammered the floor, and Speaker Bardolf held his hands
aloft. The noise subsided.
Bardolf motioned for quiet. “Citizens of Stonebridge! I will order the Hall cleared if there is
another outburst. The Assembly has
important business to do, and we will do it in secret if need be.” He pointed at Wallis and Dalston. “You men.
Sit.” Bryce Dalston retreated
promptly to the front bench; Wallis obeyed much less willingly. Then Bardolf turned to the young guardsman. “What is your name, son? Are you a sheriff?”
“Master Speaker, my name is Jarvis
Day. I have been under-sheriff for eight
weeks.”
Bardolf again motioned for
silence. “I imagine you will be
disciplined for interrupting the Assembly’s meeting, Under-sheriff Day. You should know this. Why, then, have you approached the bar?”
“Begging your pardon, Master Speaker, I
swore to protect the laws of the city. I
had no choice but to come forward, Sir.”
The elderly Speaker smiled
indulgently. “Speak, then.”
The under-sheriff pointed. “He raped my sister.”
Wallis was on his feet instantly. “That’s a lie!”
Jarvis continued pointing. “In his office. In the Citadel. Four times.”
“Liar!”
The duty guards drew their swords, and
somehow the audience restrained itself.
Speaker Bardolf: “Can you prove this
accusation, Under-Sheriff Day?”
“No.
My sister says one thing. The
Assistant Commander will say another.
But it seems to me that the Assembly should know that I will not serve
under Wallis.”
“If the City orders you, you…”
“I will die before I serve under
Wallis.”
Bardolf bristled. “You may not defy the Assembly.”
“I do not defy you. I am not armed. You may order my arrest at any time. But I will not serve under Wallis.”
“Master Speaker!” The interruption came from Ody Dans. Bardolf turned and motioned to Dans. “Master Speaker, it seems to me the
under-sheriff’s testimony is actually quite helpful, as it points to an
important question. Are there other
guardsmen whom we would lose if the Assistant Commander were promoted?
“You there, Kent and Upton! We already know what Sheriff Dalston thinks
of Assistant Commander Wallis. Would you
serve under Wallis?”
Upton answered unequivocally. “To serve under Wallis would be a death
sentence in any case. I’d rather die now.”
Kent stared at the floor for a
moment. “Earm speaks the truth. Wallis will be the death of us all, either
deliberately or through stupidity.”
Wallis screamed. “Conspiracy!
Treason!” Two duty guards pulled
their swords and stepped between Wallis and the sheriffs. Wallis spun around, as if looking for help
from somewhere, anywhere. He shook his
hand at Jarvis Day and addressed the Assemblymen. “These accusations are lies. This conspiracy will be broken, I assure
you. I will make the men obey, and I
will make them like it!”
“Master Speaker!” This time it was Lunden Ware; Bardolf waved
permission to speak. “If there is a
conspiracy, Assistant Commander, it seems you have created it yourself.
“We have not asked the most obvious
question. Sheriff Dalston, who would you
have as your Commander?”
Bryce Dalston rose but did not
speak. He faced the north wall of
Assembly Hall and pointed. Without a
word the under-sheriff, Jarvis Day, extended his hand in the same
direction. Assemblymen and audience
turned their eyes to the guardsmen standing under the balcony. Hrodgar Wigt and others pushed Milo forward. As Milo walked into the well of the chamber,
the guardsmen began to chant.
“Mortane. Mortane. Mortane.”
The spearman thumped his spear, but not
to procure silence. Rather, the pounding
reinforced the chant: “Mor-tane.
Mor-tane. Mor-tane.” The audience, and even Assemblymen joined in,
until it was a roar. “Mor-tane. Mor-tane.
Mor-tane.”
His comrades pushed Wallis to one
side. Milo knelt at the bar, his head
bowed, for a long time. Eventually the
tumult died down and, with very little debate, the Stonebridge Assembly
appointed him Commander of the City Guard.
Copyright © 2014 by Philip D. Smith.
All rights reserved. International copyright secured.
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