Matt Forbeck - Marked for Death

Kandler clamped down on his rising temper. Every time the two had a disagreement, Mardak would point out the fact that while Kandler had married an elf from Cyre, that land was not his home.

“I care about our home here,” Kandler said, forcing the words out one at a time. “I will not let you turn these people into a pack of hobgoblins. We are civilized. We may not be a part of Cyre, but we follow Cyran laws, and they don’t leave room for burning people we don’t like.”

“Cyre is dead.”

Until that point, the crowd had murmured along with the argument, chattering support or disgust with each position. At that moment, everyone fell silent. This was the truth they all lived with but always refused to utter.

Kandler dragged the front of his hand across his mouth as if he hoped to pull out all of the evil things he wished to say before they escaped his lips. When he spoke, his voice was as calm and steady as an executioner’s.

“If that’s so, then we’re in Breland. My homeland. We don’t burn people to death here either.”

“Times like these call for us to dispense with such niceties. We must use whatever means necessary to secure our safety.”

“Like torture?”

Mardak’s face turned stony. “Whatever means necessary.”

Kandler locked eyes with Mardak and considered the meaning of the man’s words. Eventually, Mardak looked away and scanned the eyes of the townspeople. Kandler didn’t need to. He knew what he’d see-terror mixed with anger and just a dash of hope that perhaps killing these outsiders would end the disappearances.

“Fine,” Kandler said.

Mardak’s head snapped around and he goggled at the justicar. “I’m glad you’ve come to see it my way. You will take them into custody then.” To Kandler’s ears, this was more of a question than Mardak wanted it to be.

Kandler shook his head. “I’ll take them. To my home. As my guests.”

Mardak leaned forward and whispered to Kandler like a snake hissing through its teeth. “Do not defy my authority,” he said. “If you break with me, our settlement-our cause-may fall apart. We are besieged on all sides and must speak with one voice. The people need a strong leader. Now more than ever.”

“Then be one,” Kandler said. He stepped back from the mayor and ordered the people holding Levritt to let him go. “These knights are my guests now. Mistreat them, and it becomes my problem.”

Kandler looked to Rislinto. The blacksmith blushed.

“Give them back their swords,” Kandler said.

Rislinto’s eyes bounced back and forth between Kandler and Mardak. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and along his right cheek. His burly, hairy arms shifted nervously around the bundle of swords that he’d been cradling like an infant.

“You know where your loyalties lie, Rislinto,” said Mardak. An oily sheen covered the mayor’s upper lip. “With Cyre. And Cyre alone.”

Kandler stepped up to Rislinto and relieved him of the swords. The blacksmith surrendered them without protest. “I’ll take responsibility for these,” Kandler said, “and their owners.”

Rislinto nodded and stepped back into the crowd. He refused to meet Mardak’s baleful glare.

Kandler turned to address the crowd. “You people have a funeral to finish. No matter what happened to Shawda or how she died, she was still one of us. She deserves better than this. Now see to it.”

Rislinto ordered the men nearest him to fetch torches. Kandler turned away. The sooner he was out of here, the sooner Mardak could calm down.

Deothen approached Kandler and said, “We are in your debt, justicar. But you do not have to do this for us.”

“I know,” Kandler said as he beckoned the other knights to follow him.

Kandler glanced up at the roof of the town hall to see Burch still perched there, his crossbow now pointed at Mardak, who hadn’t noticed. With a tug on his ear, Kandler waved the shifter off. He didn’t bother to look up to see if Burch would comply.

One by one, the knights fell into line behind Kandler as he passed through the town square and headed for home. The townspeople parted before him as he went. None of them met his eyes, but they all looked after him and his charges as they passed.

Even Norra was silent now, her sobs faded to sniffles. As Kandler reached her, he put an arm around her and gave her a firm hug. Esprл, who stood next to Norra, her arm still around her, whispered something in her friend’s ear. Norra nodded, wiping her tears and giving Esprл a quick embrace.

The young elf maiden reached up to take Kandler’s hand, and they walked toward their home like that. As they left the townspeople behind, Kandler looked down at Esprл. They hadn’t walked together like this in months.

Kandler didn’t have any children of his own, and he treasured his stepdaughter’s long childhood. He’d known her for six years already, and he’d raised her alone since her mother’s death four years past. In that time, she had changed so little that she seemed to be the same person. He, on the other hand, had seen his thirty-fifth year, and he was starting to feel it.

Kandler squeezed Esprл’s hand, and she looked up at him with her wide, almond-shaped eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly. She smiled back at him, and he realized he’d been missing that smile for weeks.

When Kandler and Esprл reached their home, the knights still in tow, Burch was sitting on the front porch waiting for them. “Took your time,” the shifter said.

Kandler grinned. “Knights in armor don’t move so quickly.” He released Esprл’s hand and guided her up the steps and into Burch’s arms. She wrapped her arms around the shifter and hugged him so tight his yellow eyes began to bulge.

“Oof,” Burch said. He pulled himself loose from the elf maid’s embrace and favored her with a wan smile. “Be gentle with your friends.” He tousled her long, blonde hair. Kandler smiled down at the scene for a moment, but a voice from behind interrupted him.

“Justicar,” Deothen called from the edge of the yard, “you have our gratitude and that of the Silver Flame.” He and the other knights unhitched their horses from Kandler’s post as he spoke.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kandler asked as he turned to watch the knights work. “Just because I took responsibility for you doesn’t mean you can just ride out of here. You owe me more than that.”

Deothen shook his head. “Our horses need tending. It has been a long journey for them, taken with all due speed.”

Kandler tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a full trough and some hay in the stable out back,” he said. “You’re welcome to what you need. Just watch out for Dargent and Cintila.”

“You have other guests?” Deothen asked, his eyebrow arching high enough to match the path of his widow’s peak.

“Other horses,” Kandler said, “and they don’t care much for strangers.”

“Like most of the people around here, it seems,” said Sallah as she led her horse around the side of the house, ahead of the others.

Kandler glanced to his left, but Burch was already gone around the other side of the house to keep an eye on the knights. The justicar looked back at Deothen. “When you’re done,” he said, “come inside. We need to talk.”

“Tell me again why you’re here?” Kandler said. He and Deothen sat across the table from each other in the main room of Kandler’s home. Esprл slouched next to Kandler in one of the room’s other well-worn chairs. Even though a chair still sat open, Sallah and the other knights stood, each in a separate corner of the room, their swords once again buckled around their waists. Burch sat perched on the sill of one of the open windows, picking his teeth with a long, black fingerclaw as he glanced inside the house and out.