Out of the Shadows (book 2 of Shadow for Hire)

Part 1: A Royal Game

Archery

      The arrow overshot the target by a good two feet. Raven wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than her previous arrow which had fallen short, but at least it was different, and the only way to improve was to do something different. She nocked another arrow and let it fly, watching as it too overshot the target. With a huff of frustration, she fired the next arrow with little concentration, causing it to fall extremely short.

      “Don’t worry about it, Raven,” Midas said from where he stood behind her. “This is just the practice round.”

      “I know, but the real round comes right after this!” she snapped. “If I can’t hit anything now, what’re the chances I’ll hit something then?”

      Her next arrow, purely by chance, hit the target. The next was low again, digging into the dirt a few feet short.

      “Even when I manage to hit something, I can’t follow it up with another good shot,” Raven complained. “I’m as erratic as a rabbit who lost its hole.”

      “Don’t beat yourself up, Raven,” Leopold chimed in. “You’re doing this because, out of the three of us, you’re the best shot. If Midas or I were in your shoes, we’d be failing even more miserably.”

      “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Raven retorted. “It might if I was competing against you two, but my opponents are people who have actually trained for this sort of thing.”

      “He’s just saying we aren’t going to fault you for not doing well,” Midas said. “It’s just a competition after all. Anyway, we aren’t even in this for ourselves.”

      “That doesn’t make me feel better,” Raven said. “I can handle failing you, but Maria’s a different story. She’s done a lot for us, and I don’t like the idea of letting her down.”

      “You won’t be.”

      The three members of The Shadow turned to face the baroness, Lady Maria, their sponsor in these games. The event was put on every year by the king and all the nobility were allowed to enter a team. This time, Maria had chosen them.

      “Morning, Maria,” Midas was the first to speak. “That’s a nice dress. You decided to go low key. I like it.”

      He was referring to her attire, a simple yet elegant gown which stopped several inches shy of reaching the ground. There was no train, frills, fluffs, or other ornamentation, just the simple green of the dress to compliment her natural beauty. Such a comment would have been a recipe for punishment with most nobility, but Maria was of a more down-to-earth stock and forwent most honors and formality. Besides, everyone knew Midas had a crush on her; feelings which did not go unreciprocated.

      “Thank you, Midas,” Maria acknowledged the compliment. “Raven, don’t worry about how the archery turns out. There’s more to these games than shooting a few arrows. Besides, my team hasn’t ever been victorious, so even if you lose it’s not a big deal.”

      “I just don’t understand why you didn’t choose someone else to shoot for you,” Raven said. She fired and missed the target again. “Wouldn’t it have made sense to get someone who has actual experience with a bow?”

      “I could have done that, but I didn’t want to upset the balance,” Maria explained. “You’re a team, you three and Daniel, and I didn’t want to force anyone else into the mix. To separate or overstuff a team just for the sake of winning a game is a terrible idea.”

      “Some people certainly don’t believe that,” Midas commented with a glance down the line of archers still practicing. “There are some teams here with a separate person for each event. Each of us is competing multiple times.”

      “That’s because most of the nobles here are only interested in winning,” Maria said. “I have something much better than winning in mind. You trust Daniel and Raven to choose and plan your jobs for you, right? Well, right now you’re in my arena. Trust me when I say I know what I’m doing.

      “One other thing before I leave.” She handed armbands to the members of her team. They were simple in design, a piece of leather with ties to fasten them around either the upper or lower arm. “These arm bands depict my family crest and will identify you as members of my team. You are required to wear them during the competitions.”

      “Raven, you want me to put yours on?” Midas asked, stuffing his band into his pocket. Raven handed the crest to him and extended her left arm from her chest, allowing him room to work.

      Leopold examined the picture on his arm band, Maria’s family crest, she had said. It was round in shape, the edges of the circle embellished with loops and curls of silver. The focal point of the crest was a falcon in flight, a bow clutched in its talons and two arrows clamped in its beak. It seemed familiar to Leopold, as if he had seen it a long time ago. There were plenty of crests featuring birds, especially falcons, the fowl of royalty. He had also certainly seen plenty of these crests in Maria’s castle. There was no identifying the actual source of his déjà vu.

      A bell sounded, and the archers ceased firing. At another tone, they headed down to their targets to collect arrows. Raven followed suit, and while Midas and Leopold stayed at her shooting post, Maria left to take her seat in the nobility’s viewing bench. The guard she had brought with her was minimal, two armed servants, while those of the other barons and baronesses were often a score or more. The skimpiness of her guard and competing team seemed to be the topic of interest at this event.

      “Maria, where’s the rest of your soldiers?” one of the barons taunted. “Your lands may be small and your subjects docile, but things are different out here.”

      “Ah, Baron Jasven, so nice to see you and your sixteen guardsmen,” Maria responded as sweetly as possible. “To answer your question, I believe there are only two possibilities. Either one of my men is as good as eight of yours, or I don’t constantly have people who are trying to kill me. I suppose that happens when you’re nice to people.”

      “Making friends again, I see,” the king said as Maria took her seat beside him. “You know, cousin, I may be on your side, but there’s only so much I can do to protect you. It would be wise of you to not poke the hornets’ nest.”

      “Baron Jasven is like a lion who has eaten his fill and is lying in the sun,” Maria said. “He is quick to roar at others but slow to pull his full belly from his sunning rock.”

      “And yet, if he does find cause enough to rouse himself to action, he is just as deadly as any other lion,” the king said. He raised a hand to readjust the thin, golden circlet on his greying hair. “I have lived this life many years more than you and have found politics to be an important but strangely fickle game. You would do well to at least try to learn to play it.”

      “This is true,” Maria agreed. “A fact with which I have been wrestling.”

      “And what of the games?” the king asked. “Jasven has a point. You seem to have brought quite a small team this year. Your three young people do not look promising no matter how talented they might be.”

      “There are four of them, actually,” Maria responded. “The fourth is older and more experienced, though he’s a tactician so you won’t see much of him.”

      “You could have at least put someone in archery who can shoot an arrow,” the king said. “The girl down there looks like she’s never picked up a bow in her life!”

      “That’s because she hasn’t,” Maria said calmly. “She’s been practicing almost non-stop for the past month, but there’s only so much you can learn in that short of a time.”

      “Seriously, Maria!” the king exclaimed. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to mock the event. You could have just stayed home if you didn’t want to win.”

      “I’m not tossing in the towel yet, cousin,” Maria responded. “Archery is certainly not her strong suit, and I don’t think she’ll even place in the event, but there’s a lot more to these games than bow and arrows. It is possible to lose a battle and still win the war.”

      “Yes, but one doesn’t usually plan on losing a battle,” the king said.

      “Unless it’s a strategic retreat,” Maria shot back. “Just sit back and watch the whole event. I think you’ll understand my choice by the end of the tournament.”

Swordplay

      The archery had not gone well, though it had turned out as expected. Admittedly, Raven had improved since she had begun training with the bow a month ago. Her showing during the competition even demonstrated improvement over her practice round, but it was still woefully behind many of the other archers. She was eliminated after the first set of shots.

      Maria met them after the round, trying to raise their spirits with her “lose a battle and win the war” speech. Raven didn’t take it to heart, but it had a positive effect on Leopold and Midas. They didn’t blame Raven for not being good at archery, but they would still have to make up for the loss. Luckily, the competition had just begun and there was plenty of time to recover the lost ground.

      “The next event is sword fighting,” Maria informed them as she led them across the castle grounds. “It will be held in two hours’ time.”

Though the games were, as a whole, located all across the royal city of Kraljevi, the initial ones were all situated on the grounds of the king’s castle. Only on the second of the two days did the events venture out into the city and surrounding countryside.

      “Sword fighting means it’s my turn,” Midas said. “Call me cocky, but I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

      “That’s just because you’ve never met an opponent you couldn’t beat in fair combat,” Leopold said. “Let’s hope that holds true today. I know I signed up as your second, but I don’t want to actually have to do anything!”

      “Plus, we need a solid performance here to make up for my failure,” Raven put in.

      “Not your failure,” Midas said forcefully. “Our failure. If one of us fails, all of us fail. We’re all separate, but we’re all parts of the same team. None of us has ever been able to survive on our own, and we’re not about to change tactics now. We all succeed or we all fail. It’s that simple.”

      “That’s easy for you to say when you haven’t let everyone down,” Raven said.

      “You think you let us down by doing your best at something you’re not very good at?” Maria asked, turning about. “You will never let me nor either of your friends here down as long as you do the very best you can. Let’s get one thing straight: I chose this team for a reason. You may not understand it, but I promise you I know what I’m doing. Have some faith.”

      “Bemoaning the past won’t help us now,” Leopold said. “We can still pull this out, but only if we keep looking forward.”

      “Fine,” Raven said unconvincingly. She would try to put this in the past, but losing never came easy for her.

      “I never expected this to be easy for you,” Maria said. “The games are not like real life. They will put you out of your element, even in events at which you normally excel, but I expect you to adapt and overcome. I expect you to give your best effort and if you do that, you will make an impression.”

      “A good one, I hope,” Midas said. They entered the sword fighting arena where the ring was still being constructed. Four posts had been driven into the ground as the corners of the combat area, and thick cords were being stretched around the perimeter. Other than the workers carrying out the assembly, the area was deserted.

      “This is what you’ll be fighting in,” Maria said. “It is well known by most soldiers and guardsmen as it is commonly found in castles. Though you’ve visited mine often enough, I don’t take you for people who frequent castles, and I wanted Midas to become familiar with the layout before the competition began.”

      “Good thinking, Maria,” Midas said as he approached the ring curiously. “I’ve seen these things set up before but never had the occasion to use one. I always thought anyone who fought in such a small square was pretty stupid. After all, you’re rarely confined to such a small area in real battle. On the other hand, this ring seems pretty large compared to those I’ve seen in the past.”

      “It is,” Maria agreed. “Besides sword play, it will also be used during the total war event where larger groups of combatants will fight each other. It has been expanded to make room for the larger numbers of people.”

      “After the sword fighting competition is the wildcard,” Midas said. “Have you found out what’s it’s going to be yet?”

      “I have,” Maria replied with a grimace. “I was hoping it would be something in your wheelhouse, but today’s activities will be concluded with juggling.” She pantomimed the motion.

      “But none of us know how to juggle,” Raven said. Her voice was even, but Leopold could tell she was irritated. Ever the strategist and planner, not knowing what one of the events was going to be had rankled her nerves. Finding out none of them would be effective competitors couldn’t be easy for her.

      “The logical decision is me, of course,” Leopold said quickly. “It shouldn’t be Midas since he’ll be tired from fighting, and you’ve already competed today, Raven. It’s only fair that I do something to carry my own weight around here.”

      “You don’t know anything about juggling,” Raven said.

      “Neither do either of you,” Leopold said. With a wink, he added, “Besides, I think it’s my turn to mess something up today.”

      “If you’re sure,” Raven said uncertainly.

      “I insist,” Leopold said. “This way Midas can focus on fighting and you can study his opponents and give him some strategy tips. All I have to do is figure out how to keep eight stupid balls in the air at one time!”

      “This seems like as good a plan as any,” Maria said. “But, Leopold, don’t wander too far. You’re Midas’s second and need to be on hand in case anything happens.”

      “Okay, now if everyone knows what they’re going to be doing, I’m going to need a rundown on the competition,” Midas said. “It’s one-on-one sword play so I’m assuming a bracket system of some sort.”

      “Well, Midas has Maria to help him,” Raven said as she watched them stroll around the sword fighting ring, the baroness talking all the while and occasionally pointing to things. “Do you want me to help you with your juggling? Otherwise I’ll have nothing to do for a while.”

      “That sounds great,” Leopold answered. Any excuse to spend time with Raven was good for him, though he would never admit as much. Instead he said, “I can use all the help I can get! Hopefully juggling isn’t as hard as it looks, but somehow I doubt it.”

~~~~~~

      Midas was fast, but his opponent was faster. He took the brunt of the force on his shield, stopping the sword cold and jarring Midas’s arms and shoulders painfully. A fraction of a second later, he struck back at Midas, extending his left arm in a lightning fast, shield-fisted punch. The middle of the round metal implement smashed into Midas’s chest and threw him backwards while the edge caught his jaw, causing lightning to explode across his vision. He staggered backwards, trying to maintain his balance even as his legs turned to jelly. His opponent waited for a few long seconds to laugh, and the gesture of derision saved the round. Before he had a chance to charge Midas, the bell sounded, signaling that the match was two-thirds completed. A single round to go.

      Midas staggered toward his corner, using his sword as a cane to keep him on his feet. He made it exactly six steps before he collapsed to the dirt and Maria’s men rushed out to help him to his stool. Leopold took one look into his brother’s eyes as he was helped along, his feet trailing uselessly behind him, and saw something he had never seen before: a glazed, incoherently vacant stare. The blow Midas had taken had shaken him to his core. Without thinking, his gestures automatic, Leopold undid the clasp of his cloak and allowed it to fall in a pile behind him.

      “What are you doing?” Raven asked. She was so shocked at his actions she hadn’t had time yet to be concerned.

      “Midas isn’t going to be back up for the final round,” Leopold answered. “Which means I have to take his place. That’s what a second does in a sword fight.”

      “You can’t go out there, not against that giant!” Raven said. The concern had finally caught up with her and her words bordered on frantic. She gestured to where Maria’s men were trying to bring Midas around and added, “They’ll get him up and he’ll fight until the final bell. You won’t have to.”

      “Midas has fought through every prior round of this competition and two bells of this one,” Leopold said.  ”He deserves a rest even if it weren’t for the beating he just took.”

      “He’ll find a way to win,” Raven argued. “He plowed through every other opponent with no problems. He’s had fewer than a dozen points against him all told. He’s good. He’ll make it work somehow.”

      Leopold stopped and turned to face Raven.

      “Raven, listen to me,” he said. “Everyone needs help sometimes, even my big, bad brother. Look at him. He isn’t getting back up for a while, which means it’s my turn to help him. Trust me; I can do this.”

      Leopold gave a smile meant to reassure her and started walking toward the fighting ring. The referee was back in the center, looking to both combatants. The final battle was about to begin.

      “Don’t go,” Raven pleaded. “He’ll tear you apart.”

      “This is what a second does,” Leopold said. “I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for it. Have a little faith in me, alright?”

      “Faith?” Raven asked as he ducked through the ropes and into the ring.

      Leopold turned to face her and took her hands in his.

      “I promise you I will walk out of this ring on my own two feet,” he said, holding her gaze for a brief moment before releasing her hands and walking out to the middle of the ring where the referee and other combatant waited.

      “Will you be taking over as second?” the referee asked.

      “What he means to ask is if I busted your friend in the face so hard he won’t be coming back out to let me finish kicking his butt,” the opponent taunted.

      “Yes, I will be taking over as second,” Leopold answered the referee.

      “Are you ready to begin the round?” the referee asked, eyeing Leopold’s knife and short sword still in their sheaths.

      “I’m ready whenever he is,” Leopold said with a nod toward his opponent.

      “If you are both ready, the round begins now!” the referee called and backed away quickly.

      “You may want to draw your weapons, little boy!” Leopold’s opponent taunted and clanged his sword loudly against his shield.

      “In response to your previous taunt, my brother could tear you apart with his bare hands if you hadn’t gotten in a lucky hit,” Leopold said. His arms still hung at his sides, motionless. “As it stands, I will have to finish the job for him.”

      “Finish the job?” the opponent asked in a mocking tone. “Have you forgotten that I’m leading?”

      Almost before he finished speaking, he swung his sword in an overhanded power stroke at Leopold’s neck, giving a guttural roar as he did. Leopold retreated a single step and tilted his head up and back, allowing the blade to sing past him harmlessly. He watched silently as his opponent was spun sideways by the momentum of his own sword, waiting until he had turned to face Leopold again before speaking.

      “You lead by a single point,” Leopold said. “A cheap blow to the chest, but a point nonetheless. A single point can easily be made back.”

      “Not if you never even take out your weapons!” the opponent yelled. He thrust his weapon forward twice in quick succession, but Leopold easily dodged both attacks.

      “When we leave this ring at the end of the round, I will be leading by at least half a dozen points,” Leopold said calmly, almost as if he was having a quiet conversation over lunch. “And do you know what the funny part about it is?”

      “What?” the opponent growled.

      “There’s not a thing you can do about it,” Leopold answered.

      “What if I just kill you and gut your carcass!” the opponent shouted, faking a right-handed strike but switching to an over and left-handed blow at the last moment. Leopold dropped forward into a fighter’s stance and, faster than the eye could see, drew his knife and deflected the sword’s blade away. As his opponent continued forward from the momentum, he leaned in, slashing across his breastplate from right shoulder to left hip. The sound of metal on metal shrieked across the crowd, making the scoring of the point obvious to all. The opponent righted himself quickly and turned to face Leopold who was now standing nonchalantly behind him.

      “Now we’re tied,” Leopold said simply.

      His opponent was furious. The passive taunting coupled with his inability to hit Leopold, and now this? What was the world coming to if he couldn’t best a small boy at sword fighting? He was just bumbling around because he’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. He’d let this little twerp, this upstart, get inside his head and had become sloppy as a result. Enough was enough. He took a moment to center himself, then went on the offensive once again. The combination double strike attack he used was tricky enough and fast enough to catch anyone off guard. Anyone but Leopold. The boy deflected the first strike with his knife while drawing his short sword with his left hand. The second strike he trapped between his two blades, instantly regretting the action as he felt his whole body jolt with the impact. He couldn’t let on, though, lest the whole persona he had been building fall apart.

      His opponent was silent now. His lack of taunting seemed to improve his form, and the next attack was a sneaky one. The opponent’s sword swung upward from the ground, the tip just near enough to hit Leopold’s breastplate. It was a cheap move, one which wouldn’t cause damage in a real battle but which would net a single point in this competition. In theory, most swordsmen wouldn’t see the attack as a viable threat and fail to block it, giving an easy point to the person who struck. The strategy might have caught Leopold off guard if he hadn’t already given thought to using it. As it was, he played the loopholes enough to anticipate how to perform the attack as well as how to guard against it. Using crossed blades once again, he shoved the attacking sword left just enough to clear his shoulder. Spinning inward, he delivered a double-bladed strike to his opponent, etching two scratches in his breastplate. It wasn’t a two-point strike as he would have liked but instead a point and a half. It was good enough to put him in the lead.

      Leopold didn’t wait for his opponent to recover but struck again at the chest, hoping for an easy score. His blades met a shield before they could reach their target, and he had to spin sideways and use his short sword to deflect a blow coming at him. He tried to back up only to feel the ropes which made up the ring press into his back. He had nowhere to run, nowhere to dance away this time. Swords and shield flashed, accompanied by the raucous clanging of metal on metal as each combatant tried to gain an advantage over the other. Leopold was buffeted by the shield twice and each time barely escaped from the accompanying sword strike. Dodging was incredibly difficult in these close quarters, a type of fighting he was not used to. Normally he would slide a knife between the enemy’s ribs and be done with it, but when an opponent couldn’t be killed and just kept coming…

      Leopold moved in even closer, ignoring his opponent’s attempts to rebuff him with the shield. Slashing with his knife forced the rival to back away and bought enough room for Leopold to circle away from the edge of the ring. He was almost away when the foe, seeing his quarry escaping from the trap, swung with his shield. Leopold tried to block the blow, but his weapons were crushed up against his chest as the shield knocked him backwards. The world spun as he hit the ground and rolled. Somehow he saw his adversary dashing forward swinging his sword, and he was barely able to deflect the blow as he continued to tumble.

      Leopold forced himself to his knees as he slid, jumping to his feet when he finally came to a stop. The opponent was fifteen feet away, his back no more than three feet from a corner post of the ring. The positioning was finally correct. It was time to finish this match. Leopold rushed forward, his soundless charge eerie when compared to the extremely loud attacks of his opponent. He raised both weapons, baiting the enemy into guarding himself, then went to his knees when he was only a yard out. He slid past the other combatant. A slash over his shoulder with his short sword was rewarded with a ringing as it contacted back armor. Another point.

      By this time, Leopold had finally found his stride. The key, he determined, was to fight like he was up against a whole squad, but instead of moving from person to person, stay focused on the single opponent. He jumped to his feet out of the slide, scaled the corner post of the ring in two steps, and launched himself backwards over the head of his opponent who was not prepared for the sudden display of acrobatics. Leopold landed immediately before him, slashing with both weapons across his breastplate. A point and a half.

      But Leopold was far from done. Tucking his body in as close to his opponent as possible, he trapped the shield with his left arm, preventing escape, and beat away at the breastplate in front of him with his knife. A dozen points later, he released the shield and shoved his opponent away, kicking him backwards into the post. The opponent gathered himself and rushed forward for one last attempt at redemption. Leopold ducked and hit him in the legs, toppling him forwards like a felled tree. The boy rolled sideways, avoiding the girth of the man, climbed to his feet, and headed back toward the corner where Midas was now fully cognizant and coordinated. Leopold let the tip of his sword drag along the back plate of his opponent’s armor as he passed, just before the bell rang indicating the end of the match.

      Leopold sheathed his weapons, then looked up to see his brother, cheering as loudly as anyone else. The older brother had carried them all the way to the final match and Leopold had finished the job. This was teamwork at its best. Raven stood beside the large boy, cheering her heart out as well. She cupped her hands around her mouth, trying to make her words heard, but they were drowned out in the cacophony of victorious celebrations of the spectators. Leopold smiled and gave a partial wave. It was sharing moments like this, winning sword play when they had expected to lose every event, which drew them closer together. This was what made them a family.

      Leopold stopped to give an exaggerated wave and bow to the crowd. When he stood back up, he looked to his family again, but the looks of exaltation from moments before were now replaced with horror as they stared and pointed towards him. Midas made a gesture, one Leopold had never seen before, and yet somehow he knew exactly what it meant. Jerking his knife out of its sheath with his right hand, he passed it over his left shoulder just in time to be crushed beneath the force of a blow descending towards his neck. Rotating the blade to point at the sky and protect his neck, he spun his head around to see his opponent glaring two holes through him, furious that his attempted assassination had failed. Already, two royal guards pulled him away from Leopold, forcing him to drop his weapon and binding his hands behind his back.

      Leopold returned his knife to its sheath and, as calmly as possible, headed back toward his friends. Had he just been a hot-headed combatant or had it been a premeditated attempt on Leopold’s life? Being in The Shadow had taught him to be paranoid, but this was a gathering of royalty. Many of those present would no doubt love to see him dead had they known who he was, but they couldn’t, could they? At least some of them had probably contracted with The Shadow in the past, but the only face they would have seen would have been Daniel’s, hence the reason he wasn’t present. There was no way anyone would recognize Leopold.

      No one, except for Baron Jasven, the one who had tried to start a war with Maria over the horse. The realization was instantaneous and so groundbreaking, it caused Leopold to pause. He and Raven had negotiated the contract opposite Jasven, and a few days later, Leopold had threatened the baron. He looked up to the stands and almost instantly spotted the baron watching him with a glower. There was no proving if Jasven had actually hired the sword fighter to kill him, but there was no doubt in Leopold’s mind that he recognized the young upstarts who had foiled his plans at war.

      “Let’s get you out of here,” Midas said as he helped Leopold through the ropes of the ring. Even with his weapon sheathed, the boy was large enough and imposing enough to easily forge a path through the crowd which had quickly developed. Raven brought up the rear, her hand tightly gripping the handle of the knife on her belt. She scanned the crowd for any signs of danger, but with this many people in the crush, it was hard to see anything.

      It took them several minutes to get away from the sword fighting ring, and when they did, things were far from over. The next logical step was to head back to where Maria’s tents were pitched on the south side of the castle grounds, but before Midas could get his bearings, a group of guards came out of nowhere and surrounded them. The Shadow pulled their weapons from their scabbards, determined not to go down without a fight, but the commander of the soldiers stepped forward with sword sheathed and empty hands extended.

      “We’re not here to hurt you,” he said, taking off his helmet. “I am Captain Payne. The king sent my men and I to escort you to the castle for your own safety.”

      “What of our sponsor, the Lady Maria?” Raven asked.

      “She’ll meet you there,” Captain Payne answered. “We should move now. The king does not like to be kept waiting in matters such as these.”

      “Sounds good, Captain,” Midas spoke. “We’re willing to go with you. I’m going to trust you, but if you have any thoughts of funny business, just remember I’ve still got my sword. I promise I’m a lot better against groups than one-on-one.”

      “A bit paranoid, are we?” Captain Payne asked, bemused by Midas’ blustering.

      “Some would say so, but at least I’m still alive,” Midas said.

      “As intimidating as you are, the one I’m really afraid of is your young companion,” Captain Payne said. The guards formed up around the Captain and his three charges, and together the group made their way toward the castle.

      “You’re intimidated by my little brother, Captain?” Midas asked with a sidelong glance at the younger boy. “You should be. Sometimes he scares even me.”

Juggling

      “After what happened, you still want to participate in the juggling competition?”

      To say the king was irate would have been an understatement. He had been pacing the length of Maria’s assigned living chamber when Captain Payne had arrived with his charges and hadn’t stopped since. In contrast, Maria was quite composed, rising to greet her team when they entered but remaining seated since then.

      “I don’t just want to, I need to,” Leopold said, standing his ground before the king who suddenly stopped his pacing to loom over the boy.

      “Why do you need to?” the king exploded.

      “First place in the sword fight didn’t make up for our flop in the archery competition,” Leopold said calmly. “If we don’t even show up for juggling, we might as well forfeit the whole tournament.”

      “You’re worried about the competition?” the king asked incredulously. “What about your life?”

      “I seriously doubt my life is in danger, your majesty,” Leopold said. The king dismissed him with a wave of his hand, but the boy continued, “The man from earlier was nothing more than a hot-headed combatant. I don’t think I’m in danger of a jester pegging me to death with his juggling balls!”

      “He was not just a hot-headed combatant!” the king bellowed.

      “Shouting won’t do anything to strengthen your argument, cousin,” Maria finally spoke. “I have put my full trust in these three in the past, and it has always paid off. Leopold knows better than to take foolish chances. If he thinks it’s safe enough to attend the juggling, I am inclined to agree with him.”

      “What about a pass?” the king asked. His tone had changed from anger to desperation at the realization everyone in the room disagreed with him. “Your team will be exempt from the juggling without penalty.”

      “That wouldn’t be fair, your majesty,” Leopold said. Again the king waved him off, but he persisted. “We will play by the same rules as everyone else. To do otherwise would be to allow you to show favoritism.”

      “And if someone makes an attempt on your life?” the king asked. “What then?”

      “Pardon my asking, but why do you care so much?” Leopold asked brazenly. “You’ve never met me before and from what little I know about kings, it seems like you should have more important things to worry about than the safety of a single competitor.”

      “For twenty-three years these games have been held,” the king said. “In that time, never once has a guest under the protection of the crown been harmed. You will not be the first casualty, not on my watch.”

      “With all due respect, your majesty,” Leopold began, “I stopped the last man who tried to kill me without even looking at him. That was after I utterly humiliated him in the sword fighting ring. Do you still think I’m in danger of a few assassins, if someone really does want me dead?”

      “Trust him, cousin,” Maria put in. “Leopold can protect himself.”

      “So be it,” the king said in a resigned tone. “I hope you know what you’re doing, boy, because if you go down this road, the best I can do is have Captain Payne assign you a guard detail.”

      “Thank you, your highness, but I’d appreciate it if they would keep their distance,” Leopold said. The king grimaced noticeably. “I don’t want anyone who makes an attempt on my life to know there are other people watching over me. The less they know, the cockier they’ll be and the more likely it is that they’ll overplay their hand.”

      “So be it,” the king said. “Captain Payne, see to it.” He swept out of the room, Captain Payne close behind. The door clicked shut behind them and no one said anything for several seconds. Then, Maria started laughing.

      “What’s so funny?” Raven asked.

      “I don’t think the king likes me too much,” Leopold commented. “As many times as he grimaced at me and waved me off, I think he’d rather I weren’t here at all.”

      “I agree,” Midas said. “I got the distinct impression the only reason he wasn’t saying anything outright was because Maria was present.”

      “You’re right,” Maria said and wiped her eyes. “He hates terms of office as much as I do. Every time you said ‘your majesty’ or ‘your highness,’ he died a little inside, I think. He would have warned you off immediately if I weren’t here.”

      “Well, I wish he would have,” Leopold said crossly. “It could have saved a whole lot of trouble.”

      “Enough,” Raven said. “That doesn’t matter right now. We need to decide what to do about the juggling.”

      “I wish Daniel were here,” Midas said. “He’d have an idea if nothing else.”

      Moments later there was a knock at the door and Midas went to answer it.

      “Speak of the devil,” he said and opened the door wide to allow Daniel into the room.

      “I can tell you’re here to discuss strategy,” Maria said as she rose from her chair. “Did you see what happened this morning at the swordplay competition?”

      “Indeed,” Daniel answered. “I’d like to speak to my associates about what comes next.”

      “I’ll leave you to it,” Maria said, motioning for her guards to follow and heading to the door. “I have other things to attend to.”

      “Excellent, we’ll see you at the competition,” Daniel said. He shut the door behind Maria’s guards and turned the lock. “So, what have we gotten ourselves into this time?”

      “Baron Jasven is sore about us shirking his job,” Leopold answered.

      “So what?” Daniel asked. “I’m the one who always meets with the clients, and I’ve been staying out of sight.”

      “Jasven was the one who hired us to kill his own horse in Maria’s castle,” Leopold explained. “If you’ll recall, Raven and I were the ones who met with him. My guess is he saw we were here and wants to kill us.”

      “If that’s the case, why doesn’t he just tell the king?” Midas asked. “He’d take care of us no problem, and the baron would be free of everything.”

      “Simple,” Raven replied. “If he rats us out, we can accuse him of hiring us to start a war. It wouldn’t end well for any of us.”

      “Then we’re safe from his accusation, but not from his men,” Daniel said. “The combatant who attacked Leopold wasn’t sponsored by Jasven, but he does belong to the team of one of his close allies.”

      “Great,” Leopold said. “I definitely didn’t want to worry the king, but it turns out we actually do have people after our heads. What’s the play?”

      “You go to the juggling competition,” Daniel answered. “The rest of us will keep an eye on you and try to catch any more assassins before they can do anything. Don’t take prisoners; kill on sight.”

       “Unnecessary killing doesn’t sit well with me,” Midas said hotly. “Besides, if we capture anyone who comes, their testimony could incriminate Baron Jasven.”

      “A valid point, but that is exactly why we can’t allow them to be caught,” Daniel pointed out. “The moment Jasven is accused of attempted murder, he has no reason to keep our identities a secret. Whether you like them or not, our only two options are to keep him out of this or to kill him before he can talk.”

      “Understood,” Raven agreed. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Midas, but Daniel’s right. The king already has men tasked with watching over Leo, but they’ll be looking to capture if possible. You stay with Leo and keep him safe. Daniel and I will hide among the crowd and take out the assassins if necessary.”

      “And what do I do?” Leopold asked.

      “You need to practice your juggling,” Raven said. “You’ve got a lot to learn and only a few hours to learn it in.”

~~~~~~

      “So, do you have any idea what you’re going to do?” Midas asked Leopold. “For your act, I mean.”

      “I was thinking about juggling,” Leopold said. “It’s something I’ve always been good at.”

      “Okay wise guy, don’t tell me,” Midas said. He led the way toward the juggling stage, eyes on the move, searching for danger. Behind them but out of sight, Raven and Daniel blended into the already forming crowd. Midas wore a cloak with a hood while Leopold had on a large, floppy hat to hide his features.

      “Fine,” Leopold said, deciding to humor his brother. “I figured I’d juggle a chicken. It might earn me some bonus points.”

      “A chicken?” Midas asked. “Why don’t you throw in a few eggs and call it a day?”

      “Great minds’ think alike,” Leopold said. “I figure if I can pull off a chicken and three eggs, I’ll be a crowd favorite!”

      Midas couldn’t tell if Leopold was being serious or not. If his younger brother wasn’t serious, his comment wasn’t one to be dignified with a response. If it was serious, well, Midas didn’t want to think about that.

      “I think the competitors are gathering behind the stage,” he said instead, ignoring the whole chicken business. “Do you think they’ll let me back there with you?”

      “We can just say you’re my assistant,” Leopold suggested. “As a matter of fact, I’ll need someone to chase down the chicken if I drop it.”

      “You’re not actually going to juggle a chicken, are you?” Midas asked, turning to look at his brother for the first time since leaving the castle.

      “Well, it’d be pretty boring if I just did three eggs!”

      The jugglers were indeed around the rear of the stage in an area blocked off for them by two dozen guards. Whether they had been briefed on the situation previously or just assumed Midas was a competitor was unclear, but he had no trouble entering with Leopold. As soon as they passed the guards, the press of the crowd disappeared, and they were able to breathe easier.

      “You do your thing and I’ll keep my eyes open for danger,” Midas said.

      “Do my thing?” Leopold asked. “What exactly is it that you think I’m going to do?”

      “I don’t know, practice I guess,” Midas answered.

      “Practice. That’s cute,” Leopold said. “Look around. Do you see anyone else practicing?”

      “No, I guess not,” his brother admitted.

      “That’s because jugglers don’t practice while waiting for an event,” Leopold said. It seemed that though he hadn’t been juggling for more than a few hours, he already felt akin to this crowd. “The practice I’ve managed to tuck under my belt will have to be enough.”

      “It doesn’t seem like it would be a good idea to start cold,” Midas commented.

      “That’s why you warm up before going on,” Leopold said, somewhat condescendingly. “Practicing while waiting is frowned upon, but you can warm up when you’re the next one on. See that man over there? You can tell he’s next because he’s juggling.”

      “That’s a lot of mighty specific talk for someone who doesn’t know anything about juggling!” Midas said with a smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were actually well informed on the subject!”

      “Of course not, Midas,” Leopold laughed. “I just keep my eyes open and learn as I go. But if you didn’t know me I could have passed for a juggler, right? Especially one so good he sees it as an actual vocation instead of just a brainless pastime?”

      “You nailed it,” Midas agreed, sincerity in his voice.

      “Good,” Leopold said. “Appearance is half the battle. If I look and act like I know what I’m doing, the judges will receive my performance much better than otherwise.”

      “You do realize the other half of the battle is actually providing a performance worthy of a good score, right?” Midas asked. “You can’t fake your way through juggling and expect to do well.”

      “I’m not an idiot,” Leopold shot back. “I know a little bit about juggling, but if I combine what I’ve learned with a little panache, who knows.”

      “And I suppose it doesn’t matter how well you do in this event,” Midas said. “The main thing is we aren’t cowering after the attack in the sword ring.”

      “We may not be cowering, but they don’t seem to have been put off by our bravado,” Leopold commented. He motioned with his head, “Look in the crowd over there.”

      Midas turned in the direction Leopold had indicated, scanning the hundreds of people in the crowd. Sure enough, a group of men stood in plain sight, scanning the jugglers, clearly looking for someone. They didn’t stick out like a sore thumb per se, but to Midas it was clear as day.

      “Take this bag,” Leopold said, and Midas felt the mouth of a sack being thrust into his hand.

      “Why? Do you need to use the bathroom?” Midas asked, but when he turned to his brother, the younger boy was gone. “I hate it when he does that!”

      Midas quickly scanned the crowd for his brother but didn’t expect to see anything. When Leopold wanted to stay hidden, it was nearly impossible to find him. Curious, Midas opened the bag in his hand and peered inside. It contained what appeared to be juggling paraphernalia: balls, batons, even handkerchiefs. A small basket of eggs was visible on top as well as a live chicken. It squawked angrily at Midas who snapped the mouth of the bag shut.

      Was his brother mental? Midas had thought he was only joking about the chicken, but here it was in the bag of tricks. Leo had done strange things in the past, but this had to take the cake! Carefully, Midas eased the mouth of the bag open again for a second look. The chicken didn’t squawk this time, but it eyed him angrily.

      “You, from Lady Maria’s team.”

      Midas looked up from the sack and pointed to himself, mouthing a question.

      “Yes, you,” the game official responded. “You’re up next. Take your place over by the steps to the stage.”

      “Are you sure it’s my turn already?” Midas asked. “See, my brother is the juggler and he had to go relieve himself. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

      “Look, mister, I don’t care who goes on stage,” the official said tartly. She was at least a foot shorter than Midas, and, in other circumstances, he might have found it humorous how she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Right now, all he felt was intimidation from the short, stocky woman before him.

      “Then I can just wait for him to come back?” Midas asked.

      “I don’t care who goes on stage,” the official reiterated. “But, if no one goes on when it’s your team’s turn, you’ll forfeit the round.”

      “When is our turn?” Midas asked.

      “Whenever the guy before you finishes,” the woman said unhelpfully. “He’s on now, so I’d go start practicing if I were you.”

      “Jugglers don’t practice. We warm up!” Midas told the official’s back. Snatching Leopold’s sack of juggling stuff from the ground, he stomped off to the stairs which led to the stage, grumbling to himself all the while. If his brother wasn’t back soon, they wouldn’t be talking for at least a week. And that was if the chicken didn’t kill Midas.

      Applause erupted from the other side of the stage and a few moments later, a juggler came down the stairs. It was Midas’ turn. Slowly, as if marching to the gallows, he scaled the steps and poked his head through the curtain of the stage.

~~~~~~

      Leopold shoved his sack into Midas’ hand and ducked low, scurrying to the edge of the crowd. The guard he slipped past never knew what happened nor did the people whose feet he stepped on as he navigated the sea of legs around him. This was one of the advantages of being small, one his recent growth spurt was quickly rendering obsolete, but he was glad to take advantage of it while he still could.

      When he had spotted the men previously, they had been congregated in a single area, but now they were beginning to spread out. Like a lion choosing its prey, Leopold spotted one of them leaning against a wall at the mouth of an alley. He was separated enough from his comrades to make an easy target and hanging out near an alley was just asking for trouble.

      With a burst of speed, Leopold rose to his full height and ran headlong into the man, hitting him in the stomach with his shoulder. The two forms tumbled into the alley unnoticed by anyone who cared. Leopold clamped a hand over the man’s mouth before he could cry out and dragged him further into the shadows. The man struggled the whole time. He lashed out with his hands and feet and even bit at the hand covering his mouth but to no avail. Leopold propped his prisoner up against the wall and laid a knife to his throat. The struggling stopped immediately.

      “I have little time to waste and little patience for people who waste it,” Leopold growled. He kept his head tilted slightly forward so his hat hid his face from the man before him.

      “Do you want my money?” the man asked. “It’s yours. Take it!”

      “I just said I don’t have patience for people who waste my time!” Leopold snarled, pressing his knife harder against the man’s throat. “I don’t expect you to tell me who you’re working for, which is fine since I already know. What I want to know is where your compatriots are stationed.”

      “What compatriots?” the man whimpered.

      “Wasting time again,” Leopold said. “Let me spell it out for you. When Lady Maria’s juggler gets on stage, some of the men you are working with will try to kill him. One last chance to tell me where they’re stationed.”

      The knife was pressed so hard against the man’s throat now that blood was beginning to run down his neck.

      “Okay!” he said. Leopold let up pressure slightly. “There are two crossbowmen in balconies overlooking the stage.”

      “Only two?” Leopold asked, pressing the knife harder. “I don’t believe you!”

      “Please don’t kill me!” the man begged. “I swear I’m telling the truth.”

      “I still don’t believe you, but I have need of you for something else,” Leopold said. “I need you to give Baron Jasven a message for me, can you do that?”

      The man nodded, terrified of the shadowy figure in front of him.

      “Tell him Baroness Maria and her people are under the protection of The Shadow,” Leopold said. “Can you remember that?”

      “Yes,” the man whimpered.

      “Good,” Leopold said. “Also tell him he needs to back off and relinquish his feud with Lady Maria lest The Shadow fall over him as it has fallen over so many before him.”

      Leopold didn’t wait for a response before wrapping his arms around the man’s throat and sliding behind him for more purchase. The man struggled uselessly, but Leopold held on tightly. The choke he was using only took a handful of seconds to work, and soon the man was out cold. Leopold let him slump to the ground.

      The crowd was thinnest at the edges, and though this was the long way around, it was also the fastest. Leopold skirted the juggling stage area and headed for the buildings on the far side. The man had said there were two crossbowmen on balconies waiting to kill Lady Maria’s juggler, and Leopold had a good idea of where the best vantage points would be.

      Slipping in the back door of a shop, he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time as he climbed the floors. The third floor was an apartment of some sort, and he knocked on the door, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited. After several long moments, the door cracked open revealing the face of an older man.

      “What do you want?” the man asked.

      Leopold didn’t have time for this. He forced his way through the door, pushing the old man back roughly.

      “I say, what’s the big idea?” the man exclaimed, reaching for a cudgel leaning against the wall.

      “I don’t want to hurt you or take any of your possessions,” Leopold said even as he searched the rooms of the small apartment. “My brother is in danger and time is of the essence.”

      His short search of the apartment had not turned up doors to a balcony.

      “There is a balcony on this building,” he said, turning to the old man. The only thing he saw was a swinging cudgel which he dodged easily. “Where’s the balcony? Tell me and I’ll get out of your home.

      “Or I can throw you out myself!” the man exclaimed.

      The cudgel swung again, and Leopold slipped around it, heading for a shuttered window. The next blow of the club smashed into the shutters, flinging them open and affording Leopold his first view of the balcony. It was a story above him. Without hesitation, he hopped onto the window sill and out, clinging to the notched, wooden planks composing the building’s siding. It was quick work to scale the wall to the next level and step onto the balcony behind the unsuspecting assassin. His crossbow was leaning up against the balcony railing, loaded but unthreatening.

      Leopold knew he could easily dispatch the man in front of him. A knife blade between the ribs would be simple, but something stopped him. This man certainly appeared in a bad light, but what if he was the wrong person? What if he was simply in the wrong place, with the wrong crossbow, at the wrong time? Leopold had killed people in cold blood before, but this time was different.

      “Hey,” Leopold said. The words startled the assassin so much he actually jumped as he spun around. “You’re here to kill someone, aren’t you?”

      The assassin stared stupidly at Leopold for a second before fumbling frantically for the sword at his hip. Leopold shook his head and drew his knife. Dashing forward, he easily blocked the swipe from the assassin’s blade and slashed offensively, dropping the man in an instant.

      “Next up is the juggler representing Baroness Maria,” an announcer from below said.

      Leopold spotted movement from the corner of his eye and jerked his head toward it. One building over and one floor up, another man, dressed as the one he had just killed, was shouldering a crossbow. There was no time to make it to the balcony, Leopold knew. His eyes landed on the still-loaded weapon leaned against the railing in front of him. He had never shot a bow of any sort, and this lack of experience caused a moment of hesitation. There was no other option, he knew, so he shouldered the weapon and pointed it at the archer above him. He aimed down the length of the arrow and squeezed the trigger when he saw the assassin’s head. Not waiting to see if he had hit anything, he scaled the balcony railing in a single step and vaulted to the adjoining building, barely finding purchase with his fingers on the rough stone. It took him only seconds to climb to the balcony.

      The bolt he had fired had buried itself in the wooden stock of the assassin’s crossbow and knocked it from his hands. Leopold pounced on the man who was still struggling to reacquire his weapon and slew him with a single slash. Just like that, the threat was obliterated, but Leopold wasn’t finished. He vaulted over the balcony railing, aiming for a rope suspending a line of triangular pendants over the juggling area. He slashed the rope as he grabbed it, riding it like a swing down toward the stage. He let go of the rope and rolled across the stage.

      Jumping to his feet, he faced the crowd and raised his hands to an enormous applause. But this wasn’t an acrobatics competition, it was all about juggling. Looking toward the stairs, he saw Midas poking his head through the curtains at the back of the stage.

      “Toss me the eggs,” Leopold mouthed to his brother, indicating with his hands the size and shape of what he wanted. “Then toss me the chicken.”

~~~~~~

      “What’s your assessment of the threat, Raven?” Daniel retained his calm as he usually did in circumstances such as this. He rubbed his hands together, but otherwise there was no indication of his nerves.

      “They tried to kill me!” Midas shouted, slamming both fists down on the table behind which Daniel was seated. It was a very nice table, as nice as the rest of the furniture in the room. They had the king to thank for their accommodations. After the attack on Leopold in the sword fighting ring, he had insisted Maria and her people stay in the castle. Now, The Shadow was congregated in Midas and Leopold’s room.

      “If it makes you feel any better, I think they were trying to kill me,” Leopold said.

      “I don’t think any single one of us was the target,” Raven pointed out. “Unless I miss my mark, they want us all dead. I don’t believe they care in what order we die.”

      “Then the threat is high for all of us,” Daniel concluded.

      “Now hold on, boss,” Leopold said. “They’ve tried to kill me twice, but to no avail. The score stands at us two, bad guys zero.”

      “What’s your point?” Midas asked.

      “They aren’t very good,” Leopold said. “I mean, they might be in normal circumstances, but compared to us, they might as well be amateurs. We’re not in any real danger.”

      “Not in any real danger?!” Midas turned on his brother. “They’ve made two attempts already. The way I see it, they may fail a hundred times, but they only need to succeed once. No doubt, Jasven has enough men to see this thing through to the end.”

      “I sent the baron an intimidating message through one of his men,” Leopold said. “It may be enough to make him back off.”

      “That’s an optimistic viewpoint to say the least,” Raven countered. “With what we know, we can take him down, and he knows it. He won’t stop until we’re all dead.”

      “Or until he is,” Midas said. “If we kill him, this is all over. We’re good enough to do it, too.”

      “That’s a bit cold-blooded for you, Midas,” Leopold commented.

      “He’s already trying to kill us,” Midas said. “Besides that, I don’t know if he means harm just to us or to Maria as well. I won’t stand by and see her hurt.”

      “We will not kill Baron Jasven,” Daniel ended the argument. “At least, not here at the king’s games. He takes the security of his guests very seriously and would not rest until he found the baron’s killers. We’re good, but I have little doubt his men would follow the clues back to us.”

      “Do you think we should make a tactical retreat?” Raven asked. “Should we run away?”

      “We can’t,” Leopold said. “Even if Jasven isn’t crazy enough to go after Maria while he’s here, we’d be hanging her out to dry.”

      “What do you mean?” Raven asked.

      “He means that we’re Lady Maria’s team at a competition put on by the king,” Daniel answered. “What kind of a position do you think she would be in if we just left after the first day of events?”

      “Well, if we have to stay and we can’t kill the baron, we’re in a very sticky situation,” Raven said. “We’ll want to stay out of sight as much as possible, and we’ll need to be incredibly vigilant during the competitions.”

      “What about Maria?” Midas asked.

      “I don’t think Jasven is crazy enough to kill her while we’re here at the tournament,” Leopold said. “Even if he is, the king has enough guards protecting her to take care of any threat. Raven’s right. We should look to our own well-being.”

      “Well, if that’s settled I’m going to go and get some sleep, and I’d suggest the same for the rest of you,” Daniel said, rising from his seat. “I’ve been keeping a low profile this whole time, so it’s likely my face isn’t associated with you or Maria. I’ll keep my ears open and let you know what I find out.”

      “Thanks, Daniel,” Raven said. “Be safe.”

      Raven locked the room’s door behind the wizard and turned back to the brothers. Midas had taken Daniel’s place and was slouching in the chair with his feet propped up on the table in front of him. Leopold flopped onto the bed with a satisfied groan. Raven suspected the activities of the day had drained the brothers more than they had her.

      “Not ready for bed yet?” Midas asked.

      “Of course I am,” Leopold answered. “That’s why I got into one.”

      “I wasn’t talking to you,” Midas said. “Raven is still here.”

      “Oh,” Leopold said. He pulled a pillow over his face, continuing to speak into it but all that came out was a mumbling sound.

      “So,” Midas said to Raven. “Not sleepy yet or is there another reason for your lingering here?”

      “Well, since you ask,” Raven said, pulling a chair to the table and sitting down opposite Midas. “Daniel thinks he’s safe because no one should affiliate him with us or with Maria, but obviously we’re a different story. Anyone who was at the tournament today knows the three of us are Maria’s team and has made it clear they won’t hesitate to kill us.”

      “Even though we’re in a castle, you still don’t feel safe,” Midas said.

      “Correct,” Raven admitted. “I don’t think I’m going to get any sleep in a room by myself.”

      “So you want to sleep in here with us?” Midas asked.

      “And take turns at watch,” Raven added. “I know we need sleep, but it would make me feel a lot better if I knew we were responsible for our own safety.”

      “Fine with me,” Midas said. “What about you, Leo?”

      There was a muffled sound from the bed.

      “Leo says he’s fine with it as well,” Midas liberally translated his brother’s unintelligible mumbling.

      “There are three of us and only two beds,” Leopold withdrew the pillow from his face to say. “I vote Midas has to sleep on the floor.”

      “There’re two beds in here and only two of us will be sleeping at a time, genius,” Midas said. “No one has to sleep on the floor.”

      “In that case, I don’t care as long as I don’t have to take the first watch,” Leopold said. He pulled the pillow over his face again.

      “Real night-owl that one is,” Raven said.

      “Oh yeah,” Midas agreed sarcastically. “That’s why he always takes the first shift. Likes to stay up late.”

      “I guess he’s more of an ‘early to bed, early to rise’ kind of person,” Raven said.

      “Yup,” Midas agreed.

      A silence fell between the two friends. It wasn’t uncomfortable, separating the two as silence sometimes does, but simply existed. Neither had much to say, nor were they tired enough to go to sleep. After several minutes of this, Raven finally broke the silence.

      “It was a good job you did today,” she said, looking up at Midas. “I always knew you could get first place in the sword fighting, but even so it was a bit of a surprise.”

      “I wasn’t able to do it by myself,” Midas said. “My little brother had to swing in and rescue my butt at the last second.”

      “You carried us single handedly until the final bell of the final round,” Raven said. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

      “I’m not ashamed,” Midas said quickly. “I said this morning that we’re a team. A failure for one of us is a failure for all of us, and, conversely, a success for one is a success for all. Leo is old enough to handle himself, and I’m very glad he was able to finish what I couldn’t.”

      “And after all that, he still managed to foil his own assassination,” Raven said. “And then he juggled three eggs and a chicken. Even though it was only for a short time, it was still impressive. Where did he even learn to juggle?”

      “I asked him the same question as soon as he came off stage, and you know what he said?” Midas asked. “He said, and I quote, ‘Juggling is like pickpocketing. They both require fast hands.’”

      “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Raven exclaimed. “Sure, they both require fast hands, but so does sword fighting.”

      “And while I’m great with a sword, I’d be terrible at juggling,” Midas said. “I think we can chalk this up to yet another hidden talent of my little brother.”

      “Yes, he does have a habit of surprising you when you least expect it, doesn’t he?” Raven said. Her eyes drifted to Leopold who, admittedly, didn’t look like a hero at the moment. His limbs were flopped unceremoniously across his bed, and where the pillow had slid off his face, she could see his mouth hanging open slightly.

      “Right,” Midas said with a laugh.

      “What?” Raven asked, jerking her gaze from Leopold to Midas. “What are you laughing about?”

      “You,” Midas said. “If the way you talk about him wasn’t enough, the way you look at him would be. Have you talked to him yet?”

      “I talk to him all the time,” Raven evaded the question.

      “Come on, you know what I’m talking about,” Midas said. “Have you told him how you feel?”

      “It’s complicated,” Raven said vaguely.

      “How complicated can it be?” Midas asked. He stopped short at the sound of Leopold snorting and rolling over in his bed. After the younger boy had settled again, Midas continued in a softer voice. “You like him, right? Why is this so complicated?”

      “Have you told Maria how you feel?” Raven asked.

      “How I feel about what?” Midas asked.

      “Don’t be stupid,” Raven said. “Everybody knows you have feelings for her. Have you told her about them?”

      “Maria is a baroness,” Midas said. “Even if I did feel affectionately toward her, nothing would ever come of it. I may be good enough for now, but she’s royalty and I’m nobody. Our relationship can’t ever go anywhere.”

      “You like her, and I know she likes you,” Raven said.

      “How can you know what she thinks?” Midas shot back.

      “Because I can see!” Raven exclaimed, gesturing to her eyes. At Midas’s puzzled expression, she threw her hands in the air, exasperated at his cluelessness. “She definitely likes you even if you’re too dense to realize it. Maria is the most laid-back noble I’ve ever met. If there was ever a chance for a commoner to marry royalty, you have the best shot. All you have to do is be honest with yourself and with her.”

      “Aren’t you doing the exact same thing I am?” Midas asked, turning the tables back on Raven. “There’s only one way you can settle your feelings for Leo and that’s by talking to him.”

      “I’ve been easing into it,” Raven admitted. “Testing the waters by doing things to see if I can get him to tell me how he feels. So far my luck hasn’t been great.”

      “Boys are stupid and don’t take hints very well,” Midas said. “Take my word when I say my brother has strong feelings for you.”

      “How do you know?” Raven asked.

      “You’re not the only one with eyes,” Midas answered with an exaggerated gesture to his eyes, clearly mocking Raven’s previous action. “If you just ask him, you’ll see I’m right. For both your sakes, I wouldn’t put it off for too long.”

      “Same to you,” Raven said. Midas had no response.

      “So,” he finally broke the silence. “Should I take first watch?”

      “Sure,” Raven said, heading for the vacant bed. She had pushed far enough for one night.

~~~~~~

      Baron Jasven was eating a late dinner in his tent when his guard ducked in to inform him of the arrival of a Lord Sauvage.

      “Let him in,” Baron Jasven said, dabbing his mouth with the silk napkin in his lap. The guard disappeared to return moments later with a cloaked and hooded figure. Baron Jasven stood and motioned his guest to a chair which he took, throwing back his hood as he sat.

      “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Lord Sauvage?” Baron Jasven asked.

      “You owe it to your stupidity,” Lord Sauvage said viciously. “You’ve been meddling with things you shouldn’t be meddling with.”

      “I do not know to what you are referring,” Baron Jasven said as he continued to eat his meal. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

      “You know exactly to what I refer,” Lord Sauvage snarled, ignoring the offer of sustenance. “It was sloppy what you did in the sword fighting competition. I told you there were to be no attempts made on the Baroness while we are here at the games!”

      “You mean the idiot who attacked her champion in the final match?” Jasven asked, looking up from the meat he had been cutting. “That wasn’t even my man.”

      “Don’t play me for a fool,” Lord Sauvage snapped. “He was the champion of one of your allies, but I know you were behind it.”

      “Even if it were me, that wasn’t an attempt on the Baroness,” Baron Jasven said hotly. He was getting angry at the way Lord Sauvage was treating him.

      “This is the king’s tournament, you buffoon,” Lord Sauvage said. “He will investigate any fatal crime against those here. Besides that, with the blood relationship between the king and the baroness, an attack on her team might as well be against her.”

      “Fine, you caught me,” Baron Jasven said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I ordered the strike against her team, but that will never find its way back to me.”

      “You’re right, it won’t,” Lord Sauvage said. “I bribed the jailer to poison your would-be assassin.”

      “There was no need!” Baron Jasven said. “He would never have talked.”

      “The king’s men have many ways of getting confessions out of people,” Lord Sauvage said. “This man would have led them to your ally who in turn would have led them to you. But now the threat is gone.”

      “There was no threat to begin with,” Baron Jasven said, but Lord Sauvage cut him off.

      “You listen to me,” the cloaked man said, rising to his feet. “You disobeyed my orders, and it almost cost you your life. The only reason I chose to save you is because you could implicate me and, as I said before, the king’s men have ways of getting information from even the toughest characters. I saved you this time, but I have little patience for people who cannot follow simple orders. You are not to make a move against Maria or her team while we are at this tournament. If you do, I will silence you like I silenced your assassin.”

      Lord Sauvage didn’t wait for a response but swept out of the tent in a flurry. Baron Jasven dropped his utensils on the table and folded his hands, squeezing them so hard his knuckles turned white. At his station in life, there were few people he was afraid of, but Lord Sauvage was one of them.

      After a few moments, he rang a small silver bell and a page appeared. Quickly the baron scribbled out a message and gave it to the lad along with the name of the message’s recipient. The young boy left quickly leaving Baron Jasven alone again. He slowly retrieved his knife and fork and continued to eat. He still thought there was no concern of his assassination plans getting to the king, but Lord Sauvage knew of them already. For his sake, there would be no more foul play at this tournament.

Obstacle Course

      “I hope this obstacle course is better than the last event,” Midas grumbled.

      “Agreed,” Leopold said. “I mean, I understand why long-distance running is part of the competition, but boy was it boring.”

      “If you thought running it was bad, you should have been in the stands,” Maria said. “After you left the city, there was literally nothing to do for close to two hours. Then you came back into the city, finished, and that was it. No excitement whatsoever.”

      “Sitting in the stands, under your sunshade must be so taxing, your ladyship,” Midas said sarcastically. “I see your boredom and raise you the pain in my side which persisted for most of the race.”

      “You might have a point, but I can’t hear you make it over the sound of your whining,” Raven shot back. “I was right beside you for the whole race and you don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

      “The obstacle course will certainly be more eventful than the cross-country race,” Maria promised. “It’s much shorter for one thing, just over a quarter of a mile long. As the name implies, it also has a series of obstacles you will have to face which should make things more interesting.”

      “What kind of obstacles are we talking about?” Midas asked. “Mud pit? Walls? Ice cold water?”

      “Yes, yes, and yes,” Maria answered. “If you can dream it up, there’s a good chance you’ll see it today. The course is new every year so veteran teams don’t have an advantage over new ones. You’ll just have to stay ready for whatever comes your way.”

      “Excellent,” Midas said. He flexed his fingers, his knuckles cracking in response.

      “As to the rules,” Raven said. “You mentioned earlier that they were a bit different than what we’ve seen so far.”

      “Correct,” Maria agreed. “The goal is to get your team members across the finish line first. It is permitted to use any and all means available, shy of killing someone of course, to prevent other teams from finishing. All members of each team are required to compete.”

      “So all three of us will be out there,” Leopold said. “But doesn’t that mean there’ll be teams with dozens or even scores of people?”

      “Yes,” Maria said. “It’ll be difficult for you, though not as much as you may think. A team only completes this event after fully half of their members have crossed the finish line. With three on our team, only two of you must cross to finish.”

      “Interesting,” Midas said thoughtfully. “In that case, how do we want to play this thing?”

      “I’m fast, Raven’s pretty fast, and you’re big,” Leopold said. “How about you run interference for us while we book it to the finish as fast as we can?”

      “I like it,” Raven said. A bell rang indicating the teams should begin to take their places. “Any advice for us before we go, Maria?”

      “This competition may seem short and that it will be over in no time, but beware,” the baroness warned. “You can count on the fact that things will not go according to plan. The whole competition has dragged out for hours in the past. Watch yourselves. If there is to be another attempt on any of your lives, this would be the perfect setting for it.”

      “Good to know,” Raven said. “Anything else?”

      “Nothing,” Maria said. “I know you will do your best.”

      “What, no hug for luck?” Midas asked, his arms out.

      “Not with you being that sweaty,” Maria said in mock disgust. “My lucky hugs are reserved only for my clean, bathed champions.”

    With a dramatic twirl of her dress, she headed to the stands, a row of seats for the nobility set well up in the air to afford them a perfect view of the course. The Shadow headed the opposite direction toward the starting line. At Maria’s suggestion, they had donned pants, long sleeves, and boots for this event, and as the course obstacles came into view, they understood why. Many of them would have been uncomfortable in the clothes they had run the cross-country race in while others would have been downright painful.

      “Good luck hug?” Raven asked Midas with a raised eyebrow.

      “Shut up,” Midas said.

      “What?” Leopold asked, confused by the exchange.

      “Last night Midas was trying to convince me there could never be anything between him and Maria since she’s nobility and he’s a commoner,” Raven explained. “I told him otherwise.”

      “Come on, Leo, back me up on this,” Midas said.

      “I’m with Raven on this one,” Leopold said. “Personally, I think you’re too scared to ask her. Never knew I had a chicken for a brother!”

      “You’re supposed to be on my side,” Midas grumbled. “Whatever happened to you and me against the world?”

      “Hey, I just call it like I see it,” Leopold answered, raising his hands in defense.

      “Midas, I like giving you a hard time as much as anyone, but that’s enough of this for now,” Raven said. “We need to talk strategy. What are we going to do for this race?”

      “I say we make a bust for it up the right side of the course,” Leopold suggested. “We’ll probably make better time if all three of us stick together.”

      “But if anyone falls behind, leave them and keep going,” Midas added. “I can say that because if anyone is the weak link here, it’ll be me. Since only two of us need to finish for us to win, there’s no sense in throwing the whole race because I get held up.”

      “Agreed, but we only leave you if there’s a bad hang-up,” Raven said. “For instance, if you take on a group of ten opponents to give us a chance to get away, I’ll see you after the race.”

      “Sounds good,” Leopold agreed. He put his hand in front of his friends. “‘Go team’ on three?”

      Raven and Midas gave him withering looks and continued for the starting line. Leopold followed them, taking his place to the far left of his friends. There was nothing left to say so they simply waited for the call to start. They didn’t have to wait long.

~~~~~~

      “You may be my cousin, Maria, but I have to agree with the barons on this one,” the king told Maria in a low voice. “Only having three people on your team might have worked in the events up to this point, but it won’t end well for these last two.”

      “You don’t think so?” Maria asked coyly. “Why not? With three teammates, only two of them have to cross the finish line to win. The second smallest team needs ten people to cross. I think that puts me at an advantage.”

      “Only two may need to cross, but they’ll never get anywhere close,” the king returned. “With so many people trying to stop them and fewer people to protect them, they’ll barely make it out of the gate.”

      “Midas will make sure the others have the space they need,” Maria pointed out. “That may not even be necessary since all three are fast enough to get ahead of the pack.”

      “Well, the best of luck to your team, but in the past a lot of people have banked on getting in front of the pack,” the king said. “It has yet to turn out well.”

      “Agreed,” Maria said. “All those teams had one major flaw, though.”

      “Pray tell.”

      “They weren’t my team.”

      “You think you have some sort of good luck spell floating over you?” the king asked. “How does being your team make a difference?”

      “How many did I bring to the games last year?” Maria asked.

      “Twenty-seven, I believe,” the king answered.

      “And the year before?” Maria asked.

      “Fifteen,” the king responded. “I still don’t see your point.”

      “I didn’t arrive at the number of three arbitrarily,” Maria said. “I’ve tried teams of many sizes and constructions and know the strengths and weaknesses of each.”

      “And yet in all that, you have yet to win the games a single year,” the king said.

      “I know. A fact which will change this year,” Maria said.

      “I’ll concede the fact that you’re in contention for the top prize, but you certainly don’t have a solid lead,” the king said. “The games up to this point were all designed for either one person or three. Your team hasn’t been at a numerical disadvantage yet. They’ll be crushed in these last events.”

      “This team is my super team,” Maria said. “You don’t have to take my word for it. Just watch this next event.”

      The call for the competitors to get ready sounded across the grounds, and the king leaned forward in his seat.

      “Okay, let’s watch this together,” he said.

~~~~~~

      A trumpet blared signaling the race had begun, and The Shadow rushed forward into the obstacles. Midas took the lead followed closely by Raven and trailed by Leopold. This only lasted for a short dash to the first obstacle. A wall about six feet tall blocked their path. It was laughably easy to scale, and even Midas had no trouble getting over it. He was the last one over, and as he climbed, an opponent grabbed at his ankles, trying to slow him down but to no avail.

      A few people were at the next obstacle already, but Leopold wasn’t worried. They were sparse and scattered, a few from one team and a few from another.
Being the weakest but fastest members of the teams, their goal was to cross the finish line as quickly as possible. They would likely reach the end without any reasonable opposition, but they also couldn’t win the game by themselves. The Shadow was together and in front of the pack, exactly where they needed to be.

      “Come on!” Midas encouraged the others toward the next obstacle. A large mud pit was carved out of the ground, bridged only by logs hung from ropes.

      “Raven, you go first, then you Midas. I’ll bring up the rear,” Leopold ordered.

      Raven climbed up onto the log and crossed it in a low crouch. Worried by the number of opponents already over the wall, Midas mounted the bridge too early. He was two steps on when Raven climbed off, shaking the whole construction enough to set him off balance. For a tense moment it looked like he might fall, but miraculously he maintained his balance and crossed the mud pit safely.

      From the noise, Leopold knew some of the other teams were close, but he forced himself not to look back as he scrambled up onto the log and scurried across it. He was almost halfway across when Midas yelled something while Raven motioned frantically. A jolt shook the log, threatening to send him toppling into the mud. His knees folded even further than before, bringing his body closer to the log while his arms shot out, balancing his body on the rocking bridge beneath his feet. All this time, he never stopped moving forward.

      He had almost reached the rope suspending the log by the time the second jolt shook him. Using the movement to his advantage, he leaped for the rope, grabbing it with both fists momentarily before climbing it as quickly as a monkey. He hauled himself onto the framework from which the log was suspended and quickly walked it to the edge of the mud pit. He took the ten-foot drop in stride, adding a roll to help with the landing.

      “Midas, do your thing,” Leopold said as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off. His brother grabbed the near side of the log bridge and lifted it several feet above where it naturally hung. The three men on the log threw out their arms for balance.

      “Have a nice trip, gentlemen,” Midas grunted and dropped his end of the log. It freefell momentarily before snapping to a sudden stop against the rope to which it was attached. The men toppled off the log and fell the five feet to the mud, slopping into it with a nasty sucking sound.

      “We need to keep moving!” Raven called. Midas gave one last look at his fallen opponents before turning to meet the next stage of the course.

~~~~~~

      “I’m impressed,” the king told Maria without taking his eyes off the action below. “Your team is doing quite well despite my earlier misgivings.”

      “I told you as much,” Maria said proudly. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said this was a super team.”

      “After what I’ve seen, I hesitate to mention it because I feel I will have to eat my words again,” the king said, “but the obstacles get successively harder as the course continues. They have to wade through that mud pit there and climb a steep slope immediately after.”

      “Difficult, but not impossible,” Maria said.

      “True,” the king conceded. “I half expect them to blaze through it without a problem.”

      “And then they’ll be home free,” Maria said smugly.

      “Not exactly.” The comment was from the baron sitting next to Maria. He had clearly been eavesdropping on the conversation and deemed this moment to be the perfect one to interject. “It’s a twenty-foot wall with no handholds on the face and no way to climb it. With only three team members, there’s no way they can get even the required two over the top.”

      “It appears that way, doesn’t it?” Maria agreed.

      “I’m not one to take sides in such things, but I have to agree with Baron Jasven,” the baron beside Maria said. “There’s no way you can win this year’s tournament.”

      “That’s a sentiment he expressed from the very beginning, yet we’re still in the running,” Maria said. “He speaks more from spite than logical reasoning.”

      “Yesterday I would have agreed with you, but it appears as though you have forgotten to factor in the long run,” the baron said. “Your team will never place in this event.”

      “And what if they do, Baron Godfrey?” the king asked, leaning across Maria to look into the baron’s eyes. “Suppose they manage to find a way to conquer the wall at the end and, for the sake of argument, come in first? What will you say then?”

      “It’ll be a miracle,” Baron Godfrey answered. “I haven’t looked at the standings recently; however, with their showing, or lack thereof, in the archery and the cross-country competitions, I believe they’ll still have to survive for quite a spell during total combat to have a chance.”

      “Then you wouldn’t be opposed to making a bet?” the king asked. “Because I’ll lay money on Maria’s team taking first place in the whole games.”

      “If they pull off a miracle on the obstacle course, my confidence in them will grow considerably,” Baron Godfrey said. “At the current time, however, I don’t think they have a chance.”

      “Then I expect good odds on the bet,” the king said. “How does twenty to one sound?”

      “Given their current standings, those odds are a bit high, don’t you think?” Baron Godfrey said.

      “I’m betting on the underdog, Godfrey,” the king said with hands extended palms up in a small shrug. “You’ve got to give me some reason to put money on them.”

      “Even so, twenty to one seems a little high,” Baron Godfrey said. “How about seven to one?”

      “Ten to one or no deal,” the king said.

      “Done,” Baron Godfrey agreed, extending his hand. He named an amount which the king appeared to consider for a moment. After a short pause, he took the baron’s hand and shook it, sealing the bet.

      All through the king and Baron Godfrey’s conversation, whispers had been running up and down the line of nobility. Upon reaching Baron Jasven, he stood up and worked his way toward the king. He finally blundered past Godfrey and Maria to a spot directly in front of the monarch.

      “What’s this I hear about betting on the games, your majesty?” he asked the king.

      “Come on, Jasven, you know I hate the term ‘your majesty’,” the king said. “Please just call me ‘sir’.”

      “As you wish, sir,” Baron Jasven said. “But back to my original question. Did I hear you were betting on Maria’s team because I’ll take you up on that bet no matter the odds.”

      “Well, I just made a bet with Godfrey here, and normally I have a strict one-bet-per-event rule,” the king said hesitantly.

      “Your majesty,” Baron Jasven began.

      The king to flinched visibly and raised his hand for silence.

      “On the other hand,” he said, “I think I can make an exception for you. The next event is total combat. You know the rules: eight men to a team and the last one standing wins. Maria’s team only has three members, but I will still bet you they win that event.”

      “With pleasure, your…sir,” Baron Jasven caught himself at the last moment.

      “Given the situation, I had better get some good odds,” the king said.

      “Of course, sir,” Baron Jasven agreed. “How does twenty to one sound?”

      “That sounds brilliant,” the king answered. “How much should we wager on it?”

~~~~~~

      “It’s just this mud pit and then the wall at the end!” Leopold shouted over his shoulder.

      “I can’t believe you used the word ‘just’,” Midas said as he staggered abreast of his brother. He leaned forward, bracing his palms on his knees and gasping for breath. The last obstacle had been a killer.

      “Do you see the size of the wall?” Raven asked. She also sounded out of breath, and her appearance showed how exhausted she was. She pointed to where teams were already creating pyramids of people, trying to get over the final obstacle and the finish line. “It has to be at least twenty feet tall. How are we supposed to get over it?”

      “You leave that to me,” Leopold said more confidently than he felt. He was actually very tired, probably at least as tired as his companions, but knew he couldn’t show it. His skillset made him the de facto leader for this race and showing weakness on his part could undermine his companion’s resolve.

      “Well, the mud pit is one thing I can handle,” Midas said. “Come on, Raven, let’s get this over with.”

      Midas picked Raven up in one arm and waded into the mud, slogging through the sticky, brown, mess. Leopold turned away from the pit, facing the oncoming opponents, looking for a few in particular. The rules of the game dictated that to win, half of the members of a team had to cross the finish line. This meant at least half of the people on the course were not interested in anything but finishing, but the minority were the ones who made this game so difficult. They were not looking to finish quickly but to interfere with other teams and prevent them from reaching the end.

      A few of these opponents, often referred to as ‘strikers,’ seemed to have it out for Maria’s team specifically. Though this was very annoying, it was not unexpected. Being the only ruling baroness in the realm, Maria was not popular among many of her male peers. Then there was Baron Jasven, a man with a personal grudge against Maria. From the identifying badges each team wore, it seemed to Leopold that an inordinate number of the strikers coming after Maria’s team were employed by him. As always, he kept a sharp eye out for the weapons of would-be assassins, but it seemed after the attempt in the sword fighting ring, none were eager to try their luck.

      As if on cue, two men wearing Jasven’s crest converged on Leopold, splitting up to approach from opposite sides. Leopold knew he could take them, at least he could do so easily when he wasn’t tired, but this wasn’t the time to engage. With two teams already working on scaling the final wall, a drawn-out confrontation could very well be game changing, even if he were victorious. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed Midas was not having a problem with the mud. He was at the halfway point now, his progress even and unchecked. Whenever he overtook someone, he would push them under with his free hand and pass them.

      Leopold retreated along the edge of the mud pit, moving perpendicular to the many contestants who had no thoughts but to reach the finish line. His two assailants ignored all these targets, confirming his suspicion that he and his team were the primary target for Jasven’s men. He continued to retreat, drawing the men further away from Midas and Raven, and all the while looking for a way through the mud. If his teammates could both cross the finish line, it would be enough to win; however, the chances of them scaling the wall without his help were small.

      “Give it up, boy!” one of the men chasing him called. “No matter how far you run, we’re going to catch you and throw you in the mud. There’s nothing you can do to stop us!”

      “Just like there was nothing I could do to stop you last time?” Leopold taunted. “You’ll have to catch me first if you want to dunk me.”

      He considered dashing into the mud and making for the other side, but he wasn’t as strong as his brother. The mud would pose a real threat for him and the men would give chase into the mud. They would catch him before he made it half way.

      “It’s inevitable,” the other man said. “You can’t keep running forever. You’re running out of room.”

      “I like to think I can run forever,” Leopold shouted back. He had come up with an idea, one which had as much of a chance of failing as succeeding, but it was worth a shot. Without hesitation, he sprinted to the edge of the mud pit and leaped from the solid land to the shoulders of a man not two feet out. The man shouted in surprise and shook his shoulders to dislodge the boy, but he was already gone, jumping to the next person.

      The trail of shoulders he had picked out began to develop holes as the people moved at different speeds and some stopped to catch their breath. The longest jump landed him in the mud with a nasty slop, but he was close enough to his target to grab their shoulders and climb onto them, despite the frantic slapping from below. He jumped from the last pair of shoulders to the slope he had to scale, a steep bank almost too slick to climb. Leopold tried to dig his fingers into the packed dirt, but they just scratched through the top layer of sludge, sending him sliding back down toward the mud. He caught hold of an exposed root stopping his rapid descent and giving him time to rest and think.

      As he caught his breath, he could feel the root slowly pulling out of the soil. His boots slid on the muck beneath them, slowly inching his heels toward the mud. To his right, a thin, almost dry path carved its way to the top, unused because it was largely a sheer climb. At the top, a bulge of earth and rock blocked the path so anyone who took it would find themselves suspended out over the mud again before they made it to the top. It was an impossible option, which was Leopold’s favorite.

      The root in his hand came loose, and he maintained his grip on it as he leaped for the dry path. He caught hold of a small crevice in the bank with his free hand and used the end of the root as a spike to pull himself upward. Releasing the crevice, he used each end of the root in opposite hands to drag himself forward. This path wasn’t as sheer as it had first seemed, and the going was easier than he expected. Soon, he abandoned the root and began to use the handholds of the dirt and rock.

      The bulge at the top was difficult. Leopold’s feet swung uselessly beneath him as he inched away from the wall, clinging tightly to the overhang above him. One hand at a time, he inched his way backward. The five feet seemed to take forever as his heart beat wildly from the adrenaline and sweat dripped into his eyes. His arms were shaking with fatigue when he finally reached the outermost point of the bulge and resumed his upward struggle. Three feet later, a hand grabbed his wrist. He tried weakly to struggle before realizing the hand was pulling him upward, not pushing him back down.

      “Hello again, Leo,” Midas said, setting his brother on the ground.

      “Can I have just a moment to rest?” Leopold asked.

      “We’re almost to the end,” Midas said and pulled Leopold to his feet.

      “Yeah, don’t quit on us now,” Raven chimed in. “We’re almost there. Just a twenty-foot wall.”

      “I’m not quitting, just taking a breather,” Leopold said. “I need enough air to tell you how we’re going to finish this out.”

      “No time for that,” Midas said as he dragged his brother toward the wall. “I’ve been knocking people back down into the mud pit since we got up here, but there’s only so much I can do. I think one of the teams may have already finished and there are a few more hot on their heels.”

      “Okay,” Leopold said, finally able to stand up straight. The cramp in his side was bearable now, though not by much. “We only need to get two of us over the top, so here’s the plan. We make a stack, Midas on the bottom, then me, and Raven on top.”

      “That’ll never work,” Raven said immediately. “Even on each other’s shoulders, we’ll never make it up twenty feet.”

      “Then we do it on each other’s hands,” Leopold said.

      A few long moments of stunned silence met his statement.

      “I think we can do it,” Midas said.

      “Are you crazy?” Raven said.

      “Raven, you’re on top,” Leopold said. “I know I can lift you on my hands, so if Midas thinks he can do the same for both of us…”

      “Let’s do it,” Midas said. “I certainly hope I’m strong enough to lift both of you shrimps.”

      “I’m going to get dropped and break every bone in my body,” Raven said in a defeated voice and followed the brothers to the wall.

      Midas braced his shoulder against the wall, and Leopold clambered onto his shoulders. Raven didn’t like the plan, but she knew when it was time to shut up and be a team player. As soon as Leopold was situated, she scaled the brothers and crouched atop the human ladder. Ever so slowly, Midas rotated toward the wall. For a moment they came completely away from it, rocking slightly as they tried desperately to maintain their balance. After a tense moment, they tipped into the wall, finally facing it.

      The next part was the trickiest by far. Midas raised his hands palms up next to his shoulders, and Leopold inched his feet forward onto them. Midas grunted with the effort of lifting his hands above his head but managed to do it smoothly enough to prevent anyone from falling. Now it was Leopold’s turn. He did the same thing, lifting his palms even with his shoulders. Raven sloppily but quickly transferred her weight to them, and Leopold strained as hard as he could to lift her.

      “Hurry up,” Midas called from below, his voice a groan from the strain on his body.

      “What? Too weak?” Leopold grunted back as he continued to push Raven upward.

      “No, but strikers are coming,” Midas answered. “I don’t want to get hit and do nothing about it.”

      “Raven?” Leopold groaned.

      “I heard him,” Raven said. “I just need a few more inches.”

      Leopold stretched as high as he could and stood on his toes.

      “Is that high enough?” he gasped.

      In response, the weight on his hands disappeared so suddenly that he toppled backward. He could feel Midas’ hands beneath his feet, struggling to balance the tower but to no avail. Leopold landed painfully on his back, the breath knocked out of his lungs. He looked up to see several figures approaching but was unable to move to do anything about it. Suddenly Midas was standing above him, raising his fists at the approaching strikers.

      “Get your butt off the ground, Leo!” he shouted to his little brother.

      The first of the strikers closed in, and Midas laid him on the ground with a single blow. Leopold forced himself into an upright position and struggled to his feet. Midas was in the thick of it now, fending off two or three of his attackers at a time. They were faring poorly at the moment, but he was just one man.

      “Get to the finish line!” Midas shouted. With a roar, he grabbed a striker in each arm and pushed several more toward the mud pit. They struggled to get away from the charging giant, but in his anger, he managed to keep them flying before him until the whole group tumbled down the bank and into the mud.

      Leopold ignored the strikers coming after him and rushed toward the largest pyramid of people trying to scale the wall. He ascended the backs of the outside of the pyramid until he ran out of flesh to climb. Another five feet stood between him and the top when he took things into his own hands. The wall was constructed of planks laid edge to edge, but two of them hadn’t been snugged up properly. A gap existed, just large enough for three of Leopold’s fingers. In an incredible display of acrobatics which used the last reserves of his energy, he rotated himself until his head was pointing at the ground and extended his feet into the air as high as he could.

      There was no way he could reach the top alone, but he trusted his team. Just as his arm was about to give out, he felt Raven grab his ankles and pull him up. She was by no means as strong as Midas, and Leopold helped her as best he could. It took a bit of wiggling and struggling, but eventually Leopold flopped over the top of the wall and collapsed onto the walkway behind it.

      “Lady Maria’s team takes second place,” the official nearby shouted down the wall. The message was relayed up to the nobility, and if Leopold had looked, he would have seen Maria stand and applaud. As it was, he was too exhausted to do anything but sit and recover his strength. 

Total War

      “Did we really decide this was a good idea?” Leopold asked. “Because right now, it seems like a very bad one.”

      The three youngest members of The Shadow stood back to back in the same arena in which the sword fighting competition had taken place yesterday. Now, eight-man teams representing each of the barons and baronesses were congregated in the ring, facing each other and getting ready for the final competition of the games: Total War. The regularly steel weapons of all combatants had been replaced with wooden ones which were considerably less lethal but would hurt all the same.

      “I don’t know about you, but I like the challenge,” Midas said lightly. A wooden buckler was bound to his left arm, and he had forsaken the sword, his preferred weapon, for a club. In his own words, “A sword without an edge is nothing more than a club anyway.” There was no armor in this competition. A touch of any weapon to the head or chest was enough to eliminate an opponent.

      “This isn’t about good or bad ideas,” Raven said. “Honestly, I don’t even think it’s about winning. Maria wants to make a point, and this is her way of doing it.”

      “She’s trying to make a point?” Leopold asked incredulously. “With what she’s put us through already, what could it possibly be?”

      “I don’t know,” Raven answered. “But she’s paying us well to do this for her, so we’ve got nothing to complain about. Anything for the money, right?”

      “Even broken bones and a lot of pain?” Midas asked. “I have a feeling we’re all going to be in a lot of pain before we finish here.”

      “Sissy,” Leopold taunted. “You’ve lived a cushy life up until now, apparently. I’ll take broken bones and pain as long as I don’t have to swim through a moat and shimmy up a toilet chute again.”

      “Those are some pretty low standards,” Midas said.

      “Agreed,” Leopold said. He added sarcastically, “It’s a sad, sad life I lead.”

      “Look alive, you two,” Raven said. “The match is about to begin.”

      A bell sounded, and the eight-person armies were at each other’s throats almost instantly. The Shadow stayed where they were, backs together and weapons pointing out. They were safe for now since no one was interested in trying to take them on at the moment.

      “So, do we have any plans?” Leopold asked as he watched the fighting happen around him. Soldiers swung their wooden weapons at each other, simulating attacks to various parts of the body or just beating an enemy down with the weight of their clubs and swords. Competition officials wearing brightly colored shirts dashed in and out of the violence, declaring people dead and sending them from the ring in a steady flow.

      “I vote we don’t get fake-killed,” Raven offered.

      “Not the extremely thorough and well-thought-out plan I’m used to from you, but okay,” Leopold agreed. He twirled the two short, wooden swords in his hands.

      “Or you could listen to the resident expert on fighting,” Midas interjected. “We should stay in this knot until they decide it’s time to attack. Their numbers should be thinner by then, and we’ll form a short line with our backs to one side of the arena. We don’t split up under any circumstances, do you understand?”

      “No offense, Leo, but I think I’m going to go with Midas on this one,” Raven shouted above the din of battle.

      “Why should I be offended?” Leopold called back. “It’s your plan we’re ditching, not mine. I don’t care what we do, just tell me so I can do it.”

      “We wait,” Midas said firmly. “Let our enemies take each other out as long as they want to.”

      The melee continued to rage for at least a quarter of an hour before there was any sort of reprieve. More than half of the original combatants were gone though not equally from all teams. Some had been defeated in their entirety while others had only lost one or two members. Now they formed back into teams, panting with the exertion and eyeing each other up.

      “If we want to have the advantage, we need to attack now while everyone is tired,” Midas said. “That team only has two members left. We take them first.”

      “Or we go talk to them,” Raven offered. “We could ask them to help us.”

      “We’re on different teams so why would they help us?” Midas asked.

      “Just leave the talking to me,” Raven said. “If I can’t convince them, we’ll go with your plan.”

      “So long as I get to hit something with my club, I’m good,” Midas said.

      “You’ll get to, I promise,” Raven said. “Just follow my lead for now.”

      She led Midas and Leopold across the ring toward the two-person team. The other, larger teams allowed them to pass unhindered, no doubt assuming they were going to knock out the smallest team left in the arena. And why not let someone else do the dirty work for a change? The two-person team raised their weapons as The Shadow approached, readying themselves for the inevitable battle, but Raven handed her sword to Leopold and stepped forward, holding her hands out to show the right one was empty and her shield was the only thing in her left.

      “We haven’t come to attack, but to talk,” Raven said.

      “We don’t have anything to talk about!” one member of the two-man team growled.

      “Don’t we?” Raven asked. “I think there’s an agreement we can come to which will benefit both of our teams.”

      “I don’t see how. We both want to win this competition, something which isn’t possible for us both to do.”

      “Consider this,” Raven said. “We have three people on our team and you have only two. Neither of our teams can stand up to the larger ones.”

      “We’ll go down fighting.”

      “I’m sure you will, but you won’t win,” Raven countered.

      “Does this conversation have a point?” the apparent spokesman for the other team asked testily.

      “We can’t contend with the larger teams, and neither can you, but we might stand a chance together,” Raven said.

      “You want us to work with you? Why?”

      “As you said, our teams cannot both claim victory,” Raven explained quickly. She had been keeping an eye on the rest of the battle ground, and it appeared she was running out of time. “Right now, we both have close to no chance of winning, but if we team up, at least for long enough to eliminate some of the larger teams, we each might have a chance at taking first place.”

      “She makes sense,” the second member of the other team said. “At least for the moment our interests lie in the same direction.”

      “And what if at the end, we’re the only two teams left standing?” the spokesman for the other team asked.

      “That’s a bridge we may never have to cross,” Raven said. “If, however, we are the last two teams standing, we retreat to one end of the ring and you to the other. Then we duke it out. Your worst match up then would be one against three which is better than the two against seven you face now.”

      The two-man team turned slightly to converse in low voices, apparently turning the idea over between them. Raven threw a glance over her shoulder and noticed her conversation with the other team had drawn the attention and ire of some of the other armies.

      “I’d decide quickly, if I were you,” Raven said, turning back to the two people in front of her. “Your time is quickly running out.”

      “We accept your offer,” the spokesman said. “So, how do you want to do this?”

      “It’s up to you,” Raven answered. “Either you can take one flank while my team takes the other, or we can intersperse you two between the three of us. And if you’re worried about a double cross, remember we’re in nearly as much of a hard place as you are. We will not attack you until the very end.”

      “We’ll take the left flank,” the spokesman said, headed to take his place next to Midas who would hold the center of the formation.

      “Good choice,” Raven said as she turned and headed back to the line. “Leo, my sword.”

      She caught the wooden weapon in her hand and twirled it once to get used to the weight. Moving to the right flank, she stood beside Leopold and prepared for the coming onslaught.

      “Any last words of encouragement or advice?” she called down the line, never taking her eyes off the enemy. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see an official take his place, ready to call casualties as they occurred. Two more were running from across the field.

      “Hold the line and don’t fake-die,” Midas answered sarcastically. There was no time to respond as the enemy was already upon them.

      The first wave was an army of seven. They crashed into the smaller army, in a line abreast, trying to flood around the edges. Raven and the soldier on the other flank slashed and stabbed, keeping the outer enemies at bay while Midas clubbed those in the middle aside with his weapon. The officials skirted the fierce combat, pulling out contestants as they were touched in the chest or head, and in half a minute the skirmish was over. None of The Shadow nor their allies had been touched, but had massacred the entirety of the attacking army.

      “You’re really good at this,” Midas told the two strangers beside him. Though the skirmish was short, it had been incredibly taxing physically, and he was out of breath.

      “I should be,” one of the other soldiers said. “I’ve been training since I was a child.”

      “Same here,” Midas responded. To say as much was to take extreme liberty with the words ‘training’ and ‘child’, but he figured it didn’t matter given the circumstance. “Whose team are you on?”

      “Baron Godfrey,” the spokesman answered. “And you?”

      “Baroness Maria,” Raven answered, remembering just in time to insert her title.

      “You’re the famous three-person team?” one of Godfrey’s soldiers asked. “The baron speaks quite highly of you after the last competition. He seemed duly impressed by your performance.”

      “And I’m impressed by yours,” Raven said. “With seven against five, I thought for sure some of us wouldn’t be here right now, but we all are.”

      “Same here,” the spokesman from Godfrey’s team said. “So, what’s the plan now? Choose a target and attack?”

      “We wait,” Midas answered. “With any luck, some of these nit-wits will dispatch each other without our having to lift a finger.”

      “I think one of these so-called nit-wits are coming to meet us,” Leopold said, pointing with his swords to a single figure approaching their small line.

      “Attacking all alone?” Midas hailed the man as he drew near. “Has the sun addled your brain?”

      “No, though to take on all five of you alone would certainly be against my senses,” the man responded with a small chuckle. “I recognize you from a time you came to my lord’s castle.”

      “Baron Dietrich?” Midas asked.

      “Correct,” the man answered, displaying the crest on his sleeve. “My team has been destroyed and I am the only one to escape. I was hoping to attach myself to your squad, at least for a time.”

      “The more the merrier, though you’ll have to stand in front of me,” Midas said. “The last thing I need is for you to dispatch me from behind.”

      “I will, of course, do as much if you insist,” the man said, “but there is no reason for such precautions. I know I cannot win this contest alone and only hope to survive a bit longer than what I have already.”

      “Then welcome to our ranks,” Midas said. “You’ll stand beside me, to my left. What is your name?”

      “Dustin,” the new ally replied immediately. “I thought I was to stand in front of you.”

      “I changed my mind,” Midas returned. “You’ll post beside me or not at all. The choice is yours.”

      “Beside you it is,” Dustin agreed and moved to take his place in the line-up.

      “We have six now, we can take any of the teams out there,” one of Godfrey’s men said after a few moments of silence.

      “And still we wait,” Midas responded. “Every time we initiate contact, we stand the chance of losing someone. The more fighting the other armies do with each other, the better.”

      “Um, boss, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Dustin said. “Look.”

      The other teams, seeing what was happening, had started to converse and combine. Negotiations were clearly still ongoing and there were a few hold out teams, but the army opposing that of Maria, Godfrey, and Dietrich was already close to forty strong. Midas hoped the armies not aligning themselves to a side would come to him, but they didn’t. As the larger combination team formed ranks and advanced toward The Shadow and their allies, it swept aside these small pockets of resistance until there was no one left. The large army had sustained a few losses in the skirmishes bringing their numbers down to around thirty, but they still outnumbered their opponents five to one.

      “If they charge, we won’t hold up under it,” Midas told his friends. “We attack first. Form an arrowhead to break their ranks. If our charge doesn’t take us all the way through them, circle up wherever we stop. It will be our last stand.”

      He took the silence as agreement.

      “Well, then, it’s time to fight!” he shouted, swinging his club above his head and giving a battle cry.

      The small army took off across the ring, building speed as it went and sweeping backwards to assume an arrowhead formation with Midas at the tip. He hit the enemy with a roar, using his club to smash them aside like wheat. The eliminations he and his allies inflicted were large as seen by the constant stream of contestants exiting the battle area, but there was no hope of crashing straight through the enemy. As the momentum of the charge dissipated, the smaller army closed into a circle with weapons bristling outward. The larger army backed away from the small group of survivors, leery of what they could do, but just when it seemed the immediate danger was gone, Midas felt a sword slap into his chest.

      “Disqualified!” an official shouted, ending the game for him.

      Leopold looked around to take stock of the situation. The larger army had been cut in half but so had his as Midas and Godfrey’s two soldiers left the arena. Now he had but two companions to go back to back with and they faced fifteen angry looking opponents. Well, the odds were better than when he had begun the event. He turned to Raven and Dustin, the only two left in his army.

      “Go back to back and don’t give an inch,” he commanded.

      “What are you going to do?” Raven shouted back.

      Leopold didn’t hear the question as he dashed from the safety of his team and hurled himself headlong into the enemy. He crouched low and spun, using his leg to trip one man. He touched his sword to the man’s chest while using the other weapon to block an attack. He was beset by two men now, so he pounced on one, bearing him to the ground and eliminating him. Leopold dropped a sword and jerked the shield from the fallen soldier’s hand, standing and turning to the crowd of enemies coming toward him. It was much smaller than he expected which meant Raven and Dustin were doing their jobs.

      Leopold hurled himself back into the fray, dispatching four men as they backpedaled from his frenzied charge. Blows cascaded on his shield as the opponents tried desperately to break his guard, but he held it strong, absorbing every stroke they dealt. By now there were six enemies left, but Raven was leaving the arena, disqualified by a blow to the forehead. Even from where he was, Leopold could tell it was a nasty bruise and was probably starting to welt up.

      Dustin was barely holding his own against two of the opponents, and Leopold rushed to his rescue. He hit one of the men in the back as he passed, then took a place beside his single remaining ally. Dustin smashed the other soldier in the head with his sword, bringing the number of enemies down by one more.

      “Two of us and four of them,” Leopold said. “What do you think of those odds?”

      “They’re a sight better than just a minute ago,” Dustin answered as he panted for breath.

      “I’m tired of this circus. Let’s finish it,” Leopold said.

      Moving together, he and Dustin advanced slowly, but mutiny was on their side today. Two of the enemies were on the same team, but the other two were not. A short scuffle broke out among them resulting in only one soldier remaining at the end.

      “Two on one,” I like this even better,” Leopold said. “Would you like to do the honors or should I?”

      “Two swords are better than one,” Dustin said. Leopold nodded and together they converged on the man, splitting to come at him from opposite sides. The battle was over quickly. Dustin attacked first, and the opponent moved to defend himself. Leopold saw an opening and struck out with his sword, ending the fight.

      “So, now it’s down to you and me,” Leopold said.

      “No, it’s just you,” Dustin said. “I saw you in the sword fighting competition. In no world could I ever beat you.”

      He raised his sword in salute, then tapped himself on the head with it and walked out of the ring. For the second time in two days, Leopold found himself, victorious in the sword fighting ring with the crowd cheering wildly for him.

~~~~~~

      “All in all, I’d call this a success,” Maria told Leopold, Midas, and Raven. Once again, they were meeting in the castle behind closed doors. Though the games were over, and many of the barons had already left with their entourages, the king still feared for his cousin’s safety.

      “A success except for the part where we didn’t win,” Midas said. He was looking at the floor, and disappointment was heavy in his voice.

      “As I said before, leave the strategy to me,” Maria responded. “This was never about the games but something much more important. I wanted to make sure you were given the credit you are due, and these games were the way to do it.”

      “What are you getting at?” Raven asked.

      “You’ll find out before we leave,” Maria answered. “Suffice it to say, the king was pleased with your performance. Though he had to pay out to Baron Godfrey because you didn’t win, he received a substantially larger bet from Baron Jasven because you won Total War.”

      “It’s always a good day when we get to stick it to Jasven,” Midas said.

      “Yes,” Maria agreed. “Baron Dietrich also sends his regards. Your performance in the tournament has certainly been noted.”

      “He wasn’t angry with Dustin for letting me win, was he?” Leopold asked.

      “On the contrary,” Maria said. “He told me it was what he would expect from his team.”

      “Good,” Leopold sighed with relief. “I wouldn’t have wanted him in trouble for what he did.”

      “I also need to thank you for what you’ve done to help relations between Baron Godfrey and myself,” Maria said. “Your actions toward his team have been a great help in the way he sees me. I am hopeful this may turn into an alliance.”

      “Glad we could help,” Midas said.

      The conversation turned to other things and lasted for quite some time. It was no surprise it ended with Midas and Maria leaving together. She offered to take him on a tour of the castle, an offer he quickly accepted. Shortly after they left, Daniel entered the room.

      “Well, as nice as this has been, it’s time to get back to work,” he said. “Where’s Midas?”

      “Out with Maria, of course,” Raven said. “With most of the barons gone, they figured it was safe to go on a walk alone.”

      “Well, find him and tell him the vacation is over,” Daniel said. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”

      “You mean to tell me this was a vacation?” Leopold asked incredulously.

      “Of course,” Daniel said. “And it worked. I feel refreshed and ready to get back out there.”

      “In that case, remind me never to go on a vacation with you again,” Leopold flopped into a bed and pulled the pillow over his eyes. “With you, they’re just too exhausting.”