The Pale Locksmith

CHAPTER 15: THE RUSE

"Get off! Someone help! Help!"

Rance and Jarud paused in their walking, and looked at each other. The woman's voice was coming from an alley just ahead of them. Whoever she was, she was obviously in trouble. The streets were quiet, and Rance was both nearby and a Lawkeeper. He really had to do something.

"Help me! Help!"

He had to do something a bit faster now; she was shouting again. Trying to look calm, Rance hurried towards the source of the commotion. As he entered the alley he saw a scene not unusual to those who lived in Cilia Town; someone being attacked by someone else. In front of him he could see a tug of war between a man and a woman over a bag. The man may have been larger, but the woman had it clasped tightly to her body and was trying to stop herself from being dragged along with every tug that he made.

"Hey! What's happening!"

Rance's voice did not sound confident. Still, it had its desired effect. At the sound, both combatants looked up. The would-be robber stood tall and stared at Rance, assessing this new threat. The woman appeared to take advantage of the distraction, wrenching the strap of her bag from the man's hand. Slowly she sidled her way up the side of the alley, making her way past Rance, who ignored her as he watched the man pick up a convenient wooden pole.

Rance's stomach sank. He guessed that announcing he was a Lawkeeper would not help the situation, so instead he would have to try to outrun someone half his age and half his weight. He slowly began to move backwards, but found his way blocked by the woman still standing there.

"Rance – move!"

Jarud arrived suddenly, shoving the woman to the floor. Before Rance could say anything, Jarud had grabbed his arm and was pulling him out the alley.

"Jar-"

"Ssshh!"

They were almost running now, his sleeve still in Jarud's grasp. When they came to the nearest shop, Rance found himself being bundled inside. The shopkeeper looked up in surprise at the two men coming through the door so ceremoniously, but Jarud gave him just the briefest of apologies before returning to the door and peering back the way they had came. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to Rance, who had not moved on from being bewildered.

"Jarud, what are you... why in the skies did you do that?"

"I was stopping you from getting hurt."

"But you didn't have to push that poor woman over!"

"Rance, she had a knife."

Rance's mouth opened as if to speak, but instead it just hung open. Jarud continued, his voice softer this time.

"She was the one who was going to hurt you."

A trap, and almost a deadly one. How many times had Rance seen something similar? One of the first things he had learnt as a Lawkeeper was to always be aware of his surroundings, and to watch out for those who are desperate and cunning enough to do just about anything for coins – or simply for fun.

Rance realised his hands were shaking. As casually as he could, he rubbed his forehead which had begun to itch at the shock of it all. He remembered just how much he loved his family, and hoped they realised just how much. From now on, he vowed, he would tell them every day. Jarud smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"Rance, would you like to buy a candle?"

"Um... no?"

"Then perhaps we should say goodbye to the Chandler and make our way? Come on, I will buy you a roast chicken – would that make you feel better?"