The Reluctant Knight: Chronicles of the Guardian Blade, #2

By Jon Kiln

Jorgen and Annalise, burdened with a critical mission, step into the lavish kingdom of Testato, their arms laden with a stash of weapons for sale. Their goal is clear yet daunting: to secure much-needed funds for the burgeoning Dogamshire rebellion. The air of Testato, rich with the promise of wealth, fuels their hopes, but their journey is fraught with uncertainty.

 

Their optimism soon fades as they encounter an unexpected obstacle: a stark lack of interest in their haul. With each refusal, their objective of financing the rebellion seems more like a distant dream. Facing a dead end and with options running out, Jorgen and Annalise are driven to make a bold move. They must seek assistance from the most improbable sources, venturing into alliances they never thought they would consider.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jon Kiln
• Release date: Nov 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223478201

Book preview

The Reluctant Knight

Chronicles of the Guardian Blade: Book Two

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by Jon Kiln

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.

Table of Contents

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1

Things hadn’t gone the way they’d planned when they’d left Dogamshire.

They’d been in Testato for almost a month, and Annalise felt like they weren’t one step closer to getting gold for the weapons. It should have been easy, and they’d all thought it was going to be easy. Jorgen most of all.

She sighed and let her eyes bounce back and forth between Jorgen and the short, tan-skinned shop keeper. Beside her, she could tell that Dusty was no less restless. He tapped his toe to the almost-beat of feet passing by just outside the shop, which had a doorway but no door.

The market was packed with people—ninety-five out of every hundred of them being a native Testatian—but as with every market they’d seen in the country so far, this one bustled with a controlled, almost elegant energy that was a stark contrast to the crazy-quilt crowds of Dogamshire’s markets.

I assure you, Jorgen said, not hiding his frustration as well as he had the week before, or the week before that, "these are the finest weapons in the world. I’m not even asking you to pay me what they are worth."

You insult me, warrior, the shopkeeper said, not sounding insulted in the least. "To imply that I would pay anything less than what they are worth is a grave dishonor."

Annalise rubbed her arm where it had been wounded in the last skirmish she’d had to take part in before leaving Dogamshire, when they’d been set upon by raiders in Norwish. For some reason, the wound always seemed to hurt the most when she was listening to Jorgen argue with a shopkeeper.

I don’t mean to be insulting, the Svelockian warrior said. It’s just—

I sympathize with what is doubtless a very... he glanced at Annalise and Dusty, "trying time for you, but with things the way they are... he shrugged and let the thought trail off. Maybe someone else will buy one from you."

Jorgen gave the shopkeep a polite nod of his head and gathered the three weapons they’d brought as samples for the shopkeeper. Heading out the door, he said to Annalise and Dusty, Let’s return to the inn.

On the street, Annalise said, We can’t stay in this city for much longer. The inn rates are outrageous here. We’ll run out of gold in a week.

Jorgen didn’t respond.

You said this would be easy, Dusty said, not for the first time. There was a hardness to him, a cold and unflattering anger that had taken root in him the day of the surprise attack before they’d even returned to Norwish, when Brice had been killed in the foothills of the Skipting Mountains. Those mountains now seemed unimaginably distant to Annalise, as they were on the other side of Dogamshire.

I know, Jorgen said. I can’t believe...

Here we go, Annalise thought. "You can’t believe what? It’s time you told us what’s really going on here. Jorgen had tender-footed around the issue they’d come across here, the fact that no one seemed willing to buy their weapons, since it had first cropped up. What are you not saying?" she asked, drawing the attention of more than one Testatian that teamed the streets of Aggo, a city that rivaled Lyshire in size.

Nothing. His face went hard, matching Dusty’s almost-scowl. I don’t know what’s happening here.

It wasn’t like Jorgen to lie, but at least he was bad at it. Annalise didn’t think for half a second that he didn’t have some idea of why this was happening to them. But she wouldn’t push the issue at the moment, especially not with so many strangers around them. She’d noticed that Testatians had an annoying tendency to listen and watch everything, even when it looked like their attentions were elsewhere.

Okay, then what are we going to do?

It just has to work, Dusty said. We can’t go back empty-handed. We can’t. We’d be in the same situation we were in before, but worse because we’d have lost the confidence of everyone willing to fight with us.

We’ll try another town or city, Jorgen said, but his voice betrayed no hope that they might actually have a different result.

Back at the inn, Narisa and Dhovid were in their usual mopey spirits. Dhovid, because selling the weapons had been his plan in the first place, and Narisa, because she was still ill with the sickness of the lungs she’d contracted from sleeping too often under dew-moistened ferns while hiding from raiders.

Not that she’d be in high-spirits even if she was the healthiest person in all of Testato, Annalise thought, knowing she should have more sympathy for the woman but finding none within her to give. Never in her life had Annalise met someone so cynical, not even in the decrepit slums of Lyshire.

Any luck? Dhovid asked once the five of them were alone with the door to the room closed.

Dusty stared at the older boy in disbelief. You think we’d come in here looking like this, he gestured to Annalise and Jorgen’s weary, downtrodden expressions, if we’d had any luck?

Dhovid hesitated, then took his place back on the floor where he’d been laying when they’d come in.

This is hopeless, Dhovid said. And although that wasn’t the first time he’d expressed the thought, Annalise was pretty sure it was the first time no one corrected him. And with that, she came to realize that that was how they all felt. Hopeless.

Let’s go back, she said. Let’s just go back.

Again, no one said anything to this comment, neither in assent or dissent, and she plopped down on one of the two small beds, not even bothering to ask Narisa to make room for her. The woman made no indication she was aware anything had changed on the bed, but continued to study the patch of blue she could make out from the window.

A few minutes passed. Jorgen and Dusty had taken the two uncomfortable piece-wood chairs at the rooms round table, but they didn’t do anything. In the first week or two they would often play at cards and dice together, with Annalise and Dhovid joining in at times, but the time for play had passed. This day was hotter than others had been, and a decided laziness took over the room.

Almost asleep for an unwanted, unneeded afternoon nap, Annalise heard herself say, Jorgen... you were going to tell us something in the market, but you changed your mind. She raised her head slightly, suddenly more awake and curious if he might actually answer her; her own question had pulled her from her daze.

Yes, he said, his eyes the eyes of an ancient man, tired of life and ready for the grave. It was the first time she’d ever seen such apathy in him, this man who was the archetype of a fiery warrior. I almost told you why we can’t sell these weapons.

2

Everyone in the room was alert and listening now. It was no secret that Jorgen at least had his suspicions—even though he’d denied it up and down for nearly a week—but it was a shock to hear him admit it now with so little prompting.

As you all know, I think... he said. Annalise caught more than a hint of his accent peeking through his words as happened sometimes when he was stressed. "I have not been honest with you for the last little while. I... I suppose I do not know why they are not buying from us, but I have an idea, and it isn’t very pleasant. For me least of all, because I am Svelockian."

Annalise couldn’t imagine what it might be. What thing did they not know, yet it seemed every merchant in the country did? And what did Jorgan’s homeland have to do with it?

What? Dusty prompted when he felt Jorgen had taken too long to continue on his own. What’s not very pleasant?

It is because the weapons are Svelockian. That should be all the more reason to buy them, since they are the finest in the world. His voice betrayed the pride he had for Svelock, something Annalise knew was in his very bones, woven into his soul. But I’ve been gone for over a year now. Things change. When I first left, after Duke Lito died, I never would have suspected that... He looked like he’d just swallowed glass. This time no one pressed him, the pain on his face eliciting some measure of sympathy from everyone in the room, not counting Narisa, who didn’t appear to be listening or even fully awake. I never would have suspected that my government would side with the New Nationalists. But it seems they must have done.

Annalise’s head was spinning. What does that have to do with anything? Isn’t Testato completely neutral?

Jorgen nodded. To a degree. They would never get actively involved in the rebel troubles of Dogamshire, but... I’m not sure if all of you know this or not, but most of the civilized world is appalled by what has happened in Dogamshire. Most people find the New Nationalists as despicable as we do.

Annalise hadn’t known that. She’d never really thought about it. It seemed like a good thing, so why had it hurt them like this?

If Svelock has shown support for the New Nationalists... he shook his head, ...then these Svelockian weapons have become a political statement. A statement no merchant in Testato would want to make by having them up in his or her shop. Eventually, if the New Nationalists win the war against the rebels absolutely, the time will come when people will simply accept it and move on. These weapons would become valuable again. But for the meantime they are anathema to the sellers and buyers here. To buy these Svelockian blades and bows and what-all would be to show some approval for the choice my country has made to support the insurrectionist movement in Dogamshire. No merchant here will make that mistake.

But why would Svelock do that? Dusty demanded of Jorgen, as if he thought it had been Jorgen’s decision.

The only reason I can think of, the warrior replied, the sadness heavy in his voice, is that the New Nationalists are even more powerful than we’d thought. They have their fingers in pies of the Svelockian royalty. There is simply no other explanation.

Jorgen, Dhovid said, "I don’t mean to be rude, but why do you care so much. I don’t mean about Dogamshire, but it just seems like..."

I know what you are asking, he waved a hand at Dhovid to stop him from having to find the words. "I love my country. I love my royalty. That is something I was taught my entire life. But for many years they have moved further and further from the ideals of Svelock. The Old Svelock. The army has become centralized. Duchies like that of my honored Duke Lito are being disbanded on every side. I feel... He looked at the table for a long moment. I feel like it is no longer Svelock in some ways. It is like my home has disappeared."

Amazingly, the next person to speak was the last person Annalise would have expected. Certainly, no one had thought she was any part of this conversation. Narisa said, I think we all know how that feels, Jorgen.

He looked at her. Somehow, he found a smile within the tempest of his emotions. I suppose you do.

But when Annalise looked over at her to see how she would respond, Narisa looked as if she hadn’t woken at all.

3

Annalise was right about the gold running out, and the group was starting to feel the utter desperation of their situation. After dinner, Jorgen motioned that Annalise should linger in the inn’s dining area for a moment. Dejected as they were, the rest of their group didn’t seem to take much notice.

I have an idea, Annalise, but I don’t want to share it with the others. Better not to get their hopes up, I think.

Alright, she said, half-wondering why it was okay for him to get her hopes up. What do you have in mind?

What I said is true. Everyone knows that one day these weapons will be valuable again. The store owners would buy them for that reason alone if not for the stigma attached to it.

I don’t see how that helps us, since we can’t just make the stigma go away.

Correct. But perhaps we could find someone who would be willing to pay much, much less than they are worth. We could see a couple of them. Just enough for gold to keep us in the country until we can figure out what to do next.

You’ve told me that no one in Testato would pay less than a thing is worth. That’s just as much of a ‘stigma’ as—

Yes, he cut in. We would not be selling them to honorable people. The risk would be very high that they would try to kill us and take them for free. Testato is a shining example of a peaceful society, full of good, honest people, but... there are still some who are criminals and worse. That’s who I’m talking about.

She thought about it. She realized something else was going on here. It was his plan, but he hadn’t said, This is what we’re doing, like it or not. He was asking her for her council. Again, she reflected on the strangeness of her premature maturity because, once again, a heavy weight of responsibility was being placed on her narrow, childish shoulders.

Dusty, she said. He can come with us. Hang back. Bring his darts.

She watched his face carefully as he absorbed this advice. There were two things Jorgen might not like about what she’d just said. One of them being that she intended to go with him, but the other objection would be stronger.

You are putting him in a position to use them. His eyebrows formed two hard lines across his forehead. Why? When you know of their danger, and you know—

"But they won’t know. Whoever we meet with, whatever they think they can pull off, do you honestly think they’ll be able to expect something like darts? Even if they know such things exist, do you think they will expect us to have them?"

No, he admitted. I don’t even think there are any Testatian families that have carried on the so-called ‘art’ of dart-blowing, inoculating their children to the poison and losing more than a few in the bargain. As I said, this is a civilized country.

She ignored the slight against Dogamshire because, in theory at least, she agreed with Jorgen about the darts. They were too dangerous, and what the practitioners of the skill did to their infants was inexcusable. But in her mind this was not connected to the larger moral issues. Dusty had been given the poison as a child, and he had lived. Now he could handle the weapons without suffering the horrible fate most were subject to upon touching a single dart. The darts were simply one tool at their disposal, one of far too few options left.

Finally, Jorgen said, There is wisdom in that. We shall ask him.

What should we tell Dhovid and Narisa?

He half-laughed. We don’t need to tell Narisa anything. She doesn’t care what we are doing. After a thoughtful moment. And we can ask Dhovid to stay behind and watch over her, in case she needs help. We’ll say... we have a potential lead for selling the weapons. Someone who wants to meet at night.

He’ll know, she said.

Maybe, Jorgen agreed. Maybe not.

Annalise wished she could give the young man the benefit of the doubt, but she also knew that of the group he was the least observant.

This better work, she said, her mind changing topics. Because if it doesn’t, I’m afraid we’re done for here.

4

The night was warm, warmer than the day had been.

It’s going to be hot tomorrow, Dusty said as they wound through the hodgepodge alleys on the edge of the city. Annalise could hear the tension in his voice, but she didn’t know how to make him feel any calmer.

Why are the streets like this? she asked Jorgen.

Almost everything she’d seen of Testato, every city and town and even village had been on an organized grid system. The whole country reminded her of her mother’s old maxim: A place for everything, and everything in its place. But this area was different. It reminded her of the total ramshackle nature