Ch-54****

The town stood in distress.

Armed soldiers patrolled the streets in groups of five men. Horseback commanders kept their eyes out for runners. Trained eyes stared at every junction for the fugitives.

Someone had attacked and injured the benevolent count in the middle of the night. Tragically, the criminal managed to escape the manor.

The count though survived the assassination, had suffered multiple injuries, and was in a coma. Moore, the Count’s right hand, had taken command and issued a wanted poster of the criminal still at large. He also ordered to close the front gate until the assassin was apprehended, baring anyone entrance or exit from the town.

The news swept through the town like wildfire, becoming a popular topic of gossip among the residents. The streets emptied and grew somber. While Pubs and taverns filled with curious, some excited and some frightened people.

The shops remained open, however. It was a gesture of strength and confidence from Moore. A silent answer to the resident's query.

It was noon, the day cloudy. Gloom covered the town. No one noticed a speck of darkness sneak out of an ordinarily tailor shop and disappear into the crowd. The speck, a tall boy with sharp black hair kept to himself and made his way toward the center of the marketplace. His slim figure and fit dark clothes earned him the attention of passing women and men, but he kept to himself and moved without detours, staying true to his destination.

He moved fast, keeping a brisk pace. His luck ended when he turned away from the slums and entered the marketplace. He had just turned a corner when he crossed paths with two soldiers outside a bakery. The men were surprised to see him. Their grins receded, leaving space for worry and nervousness to creep in, to deform their foreheads with frowns.

Noticed, the black-haired boy didn’t panic. He straightened his back, lengthened his strides, and steadied his gait. He looked different enough, royal enough, that the soldiers couldn’t decide whether to apprehend the boy or to let him pass.

The boy’s eyes glimmered when two soldiers ultimately shared a glance and stepped aside to open a path for him. He nodded to them in passing and took the breath he had been suppressing. That was a lucky save. Perhaps, he should have thought twice before coming out of his hiding spot today. This was not a good start.

The boy grew vigilant. But with the whole garrison out on the streets, there was little he could do other than to keep his head down and keep to the side of the road.

Unfortunately, he had only just taken a few steps away from the soldiers when he saw a large man in the count's colors stepping out of the bakery, biting into a steaming piece of bread. Their eyes met and surprise flashed in the soldier's eyes. His mouth opened wide and the piece of bread fell from his hands. The soldiers outside noticed their friend’s reaction and were surprised themselves. A thought thundered in their minds and they broke out in sweat where they stood.

“Get out of the way, soldier? What are you doing?” A steel-tipped voice came from behind the soldier blocking the door. Closely following the voice was a face marred by pockmarks. It appeared next to the soldier, towering over his head. The man was a giant in the eyes of the black-haired boy.

The boy didn’t wait for the squad leader —he figured from the giant's authoritative voice— to act, and broke out into a run.

The squad leader was also quick to act. He didn't understand the situation, but there was a runner on the street. Experience told him to act first and ask later. He pushed the soldier blocking the door and blared hatefully at the two dunces who had let the man get away.

“Fools! Stop dawdling! Catch him!”

One of the soldier's dropped his sword in fear, the other gave chase.

"Halt or Die!"

The boy in black heard the soldier and chuckled. How foolish. He would rather die than get caught by the likes of them.

Halt or run... like he had a choice. He was dead anyway.

The passerby’s jumped out of the boy's way to let him pass. None of them came forward to stop him or offer help. Nobody wanted trouble. They didn’t want to get stabbed or harassed by the boy's criminal acquaintances. They had seen such things happen too many times. The criminals dared not pick a beef with the soldiers because of their status. They were common people. Who would help them?

Hence, the people simply watched as the boy nimbly made his way through the crowd. He flew toward the next street, hoping to get into the alleys from there. The soldiers followed him relentlessly. They were fast despite their leather armors and leg guards.

The boy would have successfully escaped if another group of soldiers hadn't suddenly appeared around the corner ahead of him.

The boy slid to a halt in the middle of the street. There were soldiers both behind and in front of him. Bouncing on his feet in nervousness, he looked around. Seeing no escape, he rushed toward a shop in a last-ditch effort to escape imprisonment. His intentions weren’t to hide inside the shop. No. He ran at the wall. People screamed, fearing a collision. The boy proved them wrong. Like a cat, he scaled the wall and jumped to grab hold of the rooftop ledge. Eight feet off the ground, he made one last effort and climbed onto the roof. He didn’t escape right away. He stopped and looked back at the soldiers that stood below him screaming and shouting, cursing and warning him to get down. He sneered at them and gave obscene gestures that alighted the soldiers. If they were ashamed before, they were in a frightening mood now.

We have to catch him. The soldiers thought collectively.

"So long, pigs!" The boy said and turned around to leave. If only he could. The neglected, rotten rooftop couldn't handle his weight and give in underneath him. He fell inside the shop with a clamor.

The crowd was surprised by the sudden turn of events. The soldiers rushed into the shop and subdued the boy. Cheers broke among the crowd when the soldiers dragged the boy out onto the street.

“Let me go you fuckers! This can’t be happening! Not today!” The boy screamed and moaned, but it was all for nothing. The soldiers held him to the ground without respite. The squad leader stood above the boy grinning from corner to corner. Another pulled out a stack of parchments from behind his leather armor. He flipped through half of them before handing one to the squad leader. The leader squatted beside the boy and grabbed his face to check with the wanted poster, trying to make sense of whom they had caught.

The wanted posters were not perfect. The portraits rarely matched the criminals. The method was in the details given along with the portraits. Like it said on the boy’s wanted poster, the boy had cat green eyes and a mole on his left ear.

“Hold him tight.” The giant ordered and held the boy’s face in a steel grip, squishing his cheeks within his fingers. He handled the boy’s face until he found the mole.

“Let’s see how you escape this time.” The squad leader stood up and raised the poster into the air.

“It’s him, the cat burglar, Billa.” The squad leader announced.

Cheers erupted all around. Soldiers pulled the boy off the ground, his hands tied behind his back.

While the soldiers celebrated catching a petty thief, Mannat, their primary target, arrived at the Blacksmithing guild. He came alone and stopped on the other side of the street, wearing a beige hooded coat that covered him from head to toe.

Having been there a couple of times over the past year to deliver finished consignments with his father, the staggering sight that was the guild building had lost all appeal to Mannat. The decorative pieces though, creations of previous masters displayed behind the receptionist desk in wooden cabinets, he held in high regard.

Mannat wouldn’t deny a desire to have his name and work represented right there with the other masters. Desires on the side, he didn’t let his childhood dream astray him from the task at hand.

Glancing at the guard sitting right of the receptionist, he turned to the receptionist busy with work. He didn’t approach the guild building. Not only did the receptionist was his father’s associate, he knew the guard would apprehend him the moment he entered the building. It was the man’s job to protect the guild from criminals, which as of yesterday, Mannat was one with a wanted poster and everything.

Mannat snuck away from the place and entered the tavern right across from the guild. He picked a tab and ordered a hefty meal. He took a seat at a table beside the window with a straight view of the guild’s front door. It wasn’t his idea to wait there. Kaju and Pandit, the two devious minds of his group, had spent the whole night planning how to approach Kuber without anyone noticing him. Mannat knew Kuber was a regular of the place and frequented the establishment every day after work. The man was never late since he didn’t believe in working overtime — unless he was being paid for the time, of course.

Mannat waited for half an hour, filling himself at first in relish and then out of necessity to stay inconspicuous among the other patrons. The latter troubled him since he was obviously a new face, and the clothes Soman had tailored to his fit made him look quite a dashing young man. There were not a few girls charmed by his innocent appearance on the way, and so was a group of female workers sitting at the table next to him. They were slowly getting ready to talk to him when Mannat saw Kuber leaving the guild and approaching the tavern.

A girl stood up from the neighboring table and approached him at this time. She had beautiful curly dark hair and wore a green top with a diamond cut at the bosom.

“Excuse me,” She asked Mannat with a blush that painted her not-so-innocent face red.

Mannat stood up in a hurry and dashed away, leaving the girl dazed and her friends in laughter.

Kuber had just stretched his hand to open the door when it opened for him. Not bad. A man of his stature deserved some privileges. He was impressed. However, he was more impressed when he saw the tender face that had opened the door for him. Of course, the boy looked different since he had last seen him. He had grown taller and his hair color was all wrong, but Kuber could have picked him out in a crowd just from his jubilant bright green eyes.

“Mannat,” Kuber said, first in surprise, then in caution. Hurriedly, he grabbed Mannat’s arm and pulled him out of the tavern. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know…” He was saying when he saw two soldiers riding horses toward them and decided it would be better to have this conversation inside the building, away from the sight of curious eyes.

Pushing Mannat back into the tavern, Kuber removed his coat and hung it on the rack before looking around to find a seat. “That one,” He told the boy, pointing to one of the corner seats in the dark. Unfortunately, the seat was near the group of girls who had taken a fascination with Mannat. Other than that, it was a perfect space to have a quiet conversation, private and away from prying eyes.

“Go there and wait for me,” Kuber told Mannat, before calling him back. “Where are my manners? Do you want anything? Ale or alcohol? Ah, yes, I remember, you don’t drink. Do you? Perhaps, some tea and bread will fit your palette better.”

“No thanks. I still haven’t finished mine,” said Mannat gesturing toward his seat by the window.

Kuber saw the food and the sight of the guild out the window and nodded a few times in understanding.

“All right, you get that and met me there,” Kuber told Mannat and turned to the owner to get his order.

Mannat’s return threw off the girl whose unsuccessful attempt at gaining the boy’s attention had made her a laughing stock among her friends. She decided to be aggressive this time.

Slapping the table she stood up and blocked Mannat’s way to his table in order to teach him a lesson in chivalry.

Mannat sensed her intentions and decided that the little bit of food on his table wasn’t worth getting crowded by the girl. Stepping aside, he took a long way around her table to take a seat where Kuber had pointed.

The girls all turned as he took a seat, and watched him sit before turning back around and getting busy talking to eachother in hushed whispers. The next time they spent attention to him was when Kuber arrived at the table with a tray of steaming chowder, boiled eggs, and a pint of good old beer.

Now, Kuber was a regular there and he was something of a spendthrift. There had been many times when he had given out free drinks. Everybody likes a man who isn’t shy about spending a few coins for a good time. If the girls had gotten bored of Mannat, Kuber’s arrival ignited a new fire in their hearts.

Kuber noticed them too. He would have approached them if it were another day. But the man knew his priorities. Besides, he might not have the ability to sense mana like Mannat, but he knew how to read someone's body language. He could tell apart a saint from a crook from their walk alone. And though Manant's face showed no emotions, his walk opened his heart to Kuber.

The boy was in big trouble.

Mannat was stubborn like his father. Kuber knew the boy wouldn’t have approached him if it was for anything else. Putting the tray on the table, Kuber took a seat opposite Mannat with a groan. He was not good at these things really. People like him had sealed their hearts shut for so long it was difficult to adjust when someone their own approached them in pain.

“YOU STUPID—” Kuber’s face plummeted at the ferocity of his voice. He wasn’t angry, was he? That was new for him. Checking his tone, he let out softly. “You can’t be here!”

“I need your help.” Mannat blurted.

“You didn’t attack the count, did you?”

“I didn’t, but that’s not important. The order’s already out. All I can do is escape it. Uncle,” Mannat clenched his jaw and took a gulp of regret.

He never thought he would be asking someone to risk their life for him, but there he was doing exactly that. Mannat knew it would end tragically for Kuber if Mannat was caught with him, or if he was later caught in the barrels, but he needed this, and he needed it to happen badly. Mannat bit his lips and looked at the man opposite him. Yes, his father knew Kuber, but they themselves were not short of being strangers to one another. They had only met a few times in the past and had never gotten past shallow greetings. He would have understood if Kuber rejected him.

Mannat met Kuber’s eyes and asked again, “I need your help.”

“Tell me,” There was something Kuber also needed to tell the boy. It was something that had been eating him from the inside. He was afraid of what he might have done if the boy hadn’t turned up to give him a chance to redeem himself.

“I need to—” Mannat worried about the people in earshot of them and leaned forward to whisper. “I need to get to the royal capital.”

“What are you going to do there?” Kuber asked apprehensively.

“I’m going to meet my grandfather.”

“Because you think the old man can save your father.”

“I believe so." Mannat nodded and leaned back into the chair. “I believe my uncle only wants to kill me because he knows the old man wouldn’t let him hurt my father if he knew about my existence.”

“That’s a lot of speculation. I never believed you to be a speculative person.”

“I’m not. But—”

“No, I understand.” Kuber grabbed Mannat’s clenched fist and patted his hand in understanding. “Tell me how I can help?”

Mannat told Kuber their plan.

Kuber found the whole thing so ridiculous his face scrunched, displaying his thoughts to Mannat.

“Which madman thought of this thing you call a plan? Can a person even survive in a—” He looked around before leaning forward and whispering, “How can anyone survive in a barrel for a week?”

“We will only need to hide inside one until we are out of the town. And then we can join the recruits until the mountain city.”

“The next town is a week away on foot,” Kuber said in worry. “Will you be all right?”

“It doesn’t matter, but will you be all right? If anyone finds out…” Mannat didn’t dare say it.

Kuber smiled and waved a hand at Mannat as if the boy's worry was nothing more than a fly meandering in front of his face.

“Don’t worry. Just meet me behind the guild at dawn. I’ll handle the rest. Anyways, are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?”

“No, I had a meal.”

“Did you have their pie? The owner’s wife bakes one delicious lemon pie. She’s a keeper I’m telling you. Would you like one to have one?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“All right then,” Kuber shook his head in defeat.

With the difficult conversation behind them, the two enjoyed hearty laughter, talking about their past.

Something told Mannat Kuber had something he wanted to tell him, but couldn’t open up for some reason. He could sense Kuber's insecurities; his mana was not at peace. Perhaps, it was bad news or a promise to his father.

It was all right, he could wait. Patience had always been his virtue. He could sense Kuber’s mana reaching the limits of his tolerance. It was splashing inside his heart, sneaking into his veins, getting out of his control.

Mannat didn’t think he would have to wait too long.

Kuber didn’t know Mannat’s thoughts, but his head was clearly not at peace. He was in a losing battle with himself, which he eventually lost to the beer. He had a glass of it and then another. The third one broke his defenses and started pushing his grievances out of him.

“I knew this day would eventually come,” Kuber said. He held the beer mug like the last motes of something precious. As beer foam slid down the outer lip of the glass, words slipped out of him.

“I can’t remember how many times I have advised your father to change his occupation, but he always told me the hammer and the smithy was all he had. It’s stupid when you think about it.” Kuber leaned back into the chair, but his eyes said it all. He blamed himself. “They found him because he achieved his dream." His fist clenched, he said, “I should have never let him refuse the count’s offer. The guild wouldn’t have a reason to send his information upstream if he had quit the guild. A moment’s lapse on my part and everything crumbled into pieces. I’m sorry.”

Mannat grabbed Kuber’s clenched fist. "You didn’t do anything wrong. I know my father. He's stubborn as an ox. Nothing you said could have deterred him from doing what he wanted to do, what he believed was right. This happened because it was meant to happen. It was fate.” Mannat shared Kuber’s sight. "Don't blame yourself."

Mannat patted his hand and then stood up. “I’ll meet you at dawn.”

At first, Kuber only nodded, but then stood up as Mannat passed him and hugged the boy. He hated having to part like this and Mannat sensed his emotions; it was no wonder he reciprocated Kuber’s feelings even though he barely knew the man.

“Thanks for letting me help you.”

They separated and went different ways. Mannat left the tavern. Kuber sat back at the table and finished his beer. He saw the girls stealing glances at him and decided to help them out too.

“Ladies,” Kuber reached out to them.

While stars twinkled in the girl’s eyes, Mannat returned to Soman’s basement with the good news. The stage was set. All the pieces were assembled. Tomorrow they would know whether their plan could thwart enemy defenses or lead his head to the guillotine.