Trials of Gideon Book 1: The Cursed Blade

Chapter 2: We go places with Templars

It's just a coffee shop but still. We did allow them to take us to a secondary location. We don't look at all normal, Oisin is in period garb, I'm bloodied, and the Templars are all in their creepy cultist clothes. To top that off, Oisin and I are both consistently using magic, in order to prevent them from trapping us without it (again). The easiest way to do this is just summon a bit of light into our hands, but that makes both our hands and eyes glow. So yeah, we blend.
The Templar who was going to cut my head off seems to be in charge. She's maybe our age? I don't know I'm not good with ages, but she's not old. She has light blue eyes and black hair, and looks perpetually annoyed with me for being alive. Which is something she shares with a 15th century King of England. And I tell her that and she tells me to shut up.
"You know why you were targeted," she says, sitting down at the table across from us. The other Templars circle us, silently. I'm eating, and Oisin is occasionally saying 'how are you eating?' Even though I'd rather seven Starbucks scones not be my last meal, I'll take what I can get.
"I mean, not specifically, no," I say, buttering a scone.
"Not recently," Oisin says, "You have to understand how often he does things which are likely illegal."
"Yeah could be anything," I say.
"You killed three of our members. And you've continued to affect time," she says.
"That was a while ago. And they were trying to kill me and some friends of mine. And I'm not sorry," I say, "I'd do it again. I have learned nothing from anything that has happened to me."
"Gideon you're not safe to be out," Oisin breaths, rubbing his forehead like he does.
"I know," I say, eating my scone, "Scone?"
"Your people affect time more than he does," Oisin has recovered, and waves away the scone, "You are the ones who have interfered. We keep the status quo, half the time we've only saved them from the likes of you."
"You know what you've done. And I'm not here to argue with you. It's on a couple of a bulletins, not to bother arguing with you in fact," she says.
"Oh am I in bulletins now? Nice," I nod.
"You sir, are a lesson plan. We have an entire training course devoted to the things you've done," she says, dryly.
"You people have training courses?" Oisin asks.
"How did you learn magic?" She asks.
"My father tossed me toward a monster and said 'follow your instincts' it was fast," Oisin nods.
"We went over I haven't learned anything from my actions or otherwise. I don't learn things I'm not here to learn," I say.
Oisin has to look away and breath heavily. He doesn't like it when I do negotiations I don't know why but he says not to worry about it so I don't.
"So you do understand why you've made an enemy of the Templars?" She asks.
"Sure. My name's Gideon Saint, by the way—,"
"I KNOW who you are. EVERYONE knows who you are."
"Right cool, don't think that's literally true. Anyway, this is Oisin MacFionn, and you are?" I ask. Note: Oisin, is an Irish name meaning little deer, and it is pronounced 'Uh-sheen' Sort of like the word ocean, but softer, somewhere between Ah and Uh for the first part, then soft sheen on the end.
"You may call me Violet," she says, which I feel like is a weird name, for a Templar. Maybe it's code.
"Nice to meet you Violet do you always fight with two rapiers?" I ask.
"Are you stalling?" She asks.
"This is how he is," Oisin says, "I find it charming. You're the one who engaged with us."
"Nobody engaged with you," she says to him.
"Buy one get one free, us," I say, "We come as a matched set, right Osh?" So yes I abbreviate his name the first part, technically Oi but it's pronounced Osh or thereabouts.
"Precisely, now what do you want from us? Surely we can reach a deal, if all both of us want is to correct time," Oisin asks, leaning on the table, hand glowing coolly with soft blue magic. He and I are pretty matched for powers, based off us both trying to throw the other in the Irish channel and both winding up in the Irish channel. The Templars weren't going to attack me alone. With him here they're not about to do a thing, they know they wouldn't win, not against two of us.
"We don't make deals with the likes of you," Violet says.
"Look, can you cut the villain speech? I'm not here to cause trouble, I'm here to get in sword fights and have a good time, dragons are usually involved," I say, tugging down my sleeve, where the red dragon of wales circles around my forearm. "As Oisin said surely your superiors gave you a plan B as it were should you not be able to catch me?"
"I have caught you," she says.
"Have you though?" Oisin asks, eyes glowing more, "Tell me why this cafe shouldn't suddenly be engulfed in flames with all the Templars inside and us safe in the middle of Ireland."
"Oh sorry, were you doing something important?" I ask, feeling bad. It's summer he'd gone home to Ireland to do some necessary minding and the like that's why I wound up unsupervised and left to my own devices talking to tombs and such.
"No, not at all," he says.
"Was that sarcasm?" I check.
"No, I really wasn't I was standing in the middle of a field wondering what you'd gotten up to unsupervised," he says.
"Oh. Sorry. Answered that question."
"Aye, it did. How are the wains?"
"Good with their mum pretending to be the obedient children they can occasionally impersonate—,"
"Do you mind?" Violet growls.
"Well I've not seen him in a minute and we weren't getting anywhere," I shrug.
"Do you have an answer for us and not a petty threat? What does it take to end these stupid assassination attempts?" Oisin asks.
"Yeah before we endanger more of downtown London?" I ask.
"You must pay for the time lost from your interferences," Violet says..
"I don't have any time about me, sorry—theres only one left Osh do you really not want one?" I ask, holding up a scone.
"No, I really don't want one, thank you," Oisin says, "There were fresh berries, I had earlier."
"D'you think there are more? I'm not doing anything I might as well go back with you?" I ask, hopefully.
"There were definitely more. Yeah."
"How do you people get anything done?" Violet asks.
"We manage," I say.
"What is your suggestion?" Oisin asks, "As he said we're not undoing what we did. Pretty sure that breaks some rules of time. Also I don't have a really great count of what we've done. It's been a lot."
"It has honestly, my life, been a lot. Probably like eight years of television by now," I say, "BBC should be on their fifth episode."
"My suggestion is this," she growls, she's sick of us, "You pay us back for your crimes. By completing a series of quests."
"Oh yeah sure. I'll do that," I say, immediately, and Oisin hits me.
"What type of quests?" Oisin asks, "We always ask that first. We talked about this."
"I know but I love quests," I sigh, looking over at him, "Quests are fun!"
"Okay we'll do it," Oisin says, looking back at her, "What is it?"
"Tasks that the members who you murdered, were intended to complete," Violet says.
Oisin and I look at each other and shrug.
"Yeah, cool eh?" I say, shrugging, "I mean if it's not murder—,"
"If it's murder within reason," Oisin says.
"Oh, that's true we're not really opposed to murder as a rule just in general," I say.
"Yes we've both killed lots and lots of people," Oisin says.
"Is this some sort of act?" Violet looks between us.
"Absolutely not," I say.
"No when we're acting we act normal, this is standard," Oisin says.
"So what's the quest?" I ask. I love a good quest. Stop looking at me like that. This is who I am. I wouldn't be in this story if I didn't say yes to most any good quest.
Violet looks between us like doubting we can handle this.
"This is a trace spell, to a cursed blade. It is highly unstable and not meant to be in the timeline. It was stolen from one of our members, and we need it back," she says, laying a paper on the table.
"So we do this for you, and then you clear whatever debt you think we have with you?" Oisin is my legal representation for a reason.
"Not you. The Templars have no quarrel with the Guardians of Ireland," she says.
"Well you do now. Gideon is a friend of Ireland and he helped negotiate to prevent an invasion. We stand behind him," Oisin says. Which is nice, but it is literally just him.
"Isn't it literally just you?" Violet asks.
"Do you want to find out why I'm more than enough?" Oisin asks, curling his lip.
"Answer the question. We get this—sword back? Is it a sword?" I ask.
"Yes."
"What's it look like?" I ask.
"I don't know. It was stolen centuries ago. Unlike you we are careful with time. Only going back as necessary. And the agents who go back never return to the present. In order to prevent disruptions we live out our lives there," Violet says, disdainfully.
"Oh yeah," I wince.
"We—"
"Yeah we don't do that."
"We go back and forth all the time."
"Yeah."
"Is that—wrong?"
"Yeah, do we have proof of that?"
"Shut up! You're infuriating, no wonder you never get anything done," Violet groans.
"Excuse you, we get loads done," I say.
"Yeah, has Ireland been threatened? No, there, that's that done," Oisin says.
"Ireland gets threatened all the time. You just distract the threat by helping him threaten somewhere else," Violet cries.
"Oh my god that's exactly what we do," I say, smothering laughter.
"Christ it sounds bad when you put it like that," Oisin says, laughing as well.
"Are you always this disrespectful?" She asks.
"We ah—get our lives threatened a lot," I say, recovering myself.
"Yeah, novelty tends to wear off. We didn't make these for nothing," Oisin says, checking my amulet is back secured around my neck, "Like weekly at this point?"
"Pretty much weekly, if you average it," I nod.
"I'm sure you're pleased your son is more trouble than you are," Violet sneers.
"Please don't tell me about the future he's just six for me," I say, like I don't already completely know my Myrddin is prepackaged trouble. He's all my love of adventure but he's clever like his mother it's bad. It's really bad. He likes being neat and pretty clothes so that's that going well for us.
"Don't talk about our son, at all," Oisin says. He usually calls the wains his as well if we're public, namely Kat, but the others too, mostly for simplicity. Also he's fair, with light eyes, so Myrddin looks more like his kid than mine, ergo in certain circumstances it's just easier to identify him.
"Yeah, weren't we staying on topic? Cursed blade?" I ask.
"You two get off topic every five minutes," Violet says, "You're literally the problem with this conversation."
"Yeah we did scientifically determine the problem is me, I'm the problem," I nod, stuffing my fist in my mouth.
"I like getting off topic, Gid," Oisin says, "More interesting anyway. I'm not doing much. Sure, these Templars have lives to ruin not my problem."
"STAYING ON TOPIC," Violet looks tense I think. I realize we have that effect on people, "This trace will get you close to the cursed blade. You find it, and bring it back to us. It was stolen from Templars and it does not need to be loose. It is volatile, due to the curse."
"Okay that sounds like a good cause," I say, looking over at Oisin.
"Yeah," Oisin shrugs, "Fine, I mean, sure. We weren't that busy."
"You weren't busy at all! I have read the history books, all either of you do is sitting around waiting for an adventure then you immediately involve the other!" She growls.
"Oh that is what we do," I say.
"Yeah she does have a point," Oisin nods.
"Wait—you've read the history books from, that dimension?" I ask, "So—you're from SuperiorTimeline not, LibraryofAlexandriaBurnt timeline?"
"You don't get to ask the questions," Violet says.
"So, cool I'll take that as a yes, means you're a guest here. All right," I tug the trace spell over, "What does this trace to?"
"A stable point when the curse is not activated. It's not precise it's hard to trace a curse," she says.
"And we bring it back—where?" Oisin asks.
"Yeah, how near are we talking?" I ask.
"Near enough. Bring it back to the 21st century, here, and I will find you. You're not subtle," Violet says.
"Excuse you, we're subtle as fuck," I say.
"Subtle is probably our best epithet."
"He goes and cries and talks to tombs in Westminster weekly, the rest of the time you individually or collectively finishing fights and disrupting the timeline," Violet says.
"Have you been stalking us?" I ask.
"Yeah that's exactly what we do is this something we need to talk about?" Oisin asks.
"An unhealthy fascination?" I ask.
"How is it you two get anything done?" She's ready to lose her mind.
"You said you'd read the history books it's very clear we do not," I say.
"Again this is very, very standard," Oisin says, "We really don't get better in fact we get worse."
"Yeah exponentially actually," I nod.
"Retrieve the blade. After that we will see," Violet snarls, shoving the trace across the table. She doesn't need to. I've been slowly working the incantation in my mind. I'm ready to go.
"See what?" I ask.
"Another quest? Or see the blade?" Oisin asks.
"Because we'll've already seen the blade," I say.
"Yeah so you'll see it—,"
"We won't—,"
"GO."
I grin, snapping my fingers and completing the trace. The surprise registers on Violet's face, she didn't know I'd done it in my head. Few wizards can do spells silently and I've only seen one sorcerer ever manage.
The magic takes hold of me. And once again I feel the familiar rush as I fall to the damp, boggy ground of—somewhere? Don't know where I am.
"Ah that was good," Oisin says, climbing to his feet.
"Safe to say they won't attempt conversation with us again," I say, high-fiving him.
"Got that right. Think we should find this sword? I see you vibrating of course I'm gonna find this sword with you," Oisin says, smiling.
"It's a sword! I love swords! And it's cursed, it shouldn't be out, Templars have a point," I say.
"Yeah, fair enough, all right, any idea where we are?" Oisin asks, looking around.
"Ah, I know farmer's field isn't going to cover it— what is this?" I ask. It's not cold out, mid summer looks like? The sun is just starting to set. We're quite in the middle of some farmer's field.
"Peas," Oisin says, looking at the plant, "Come on, we'll go apologize and whatever, find a village where some idiot stole a cursed sword."
"Wait, we don't know what year this is," I say, pausing, "We can't be recognized." I gesture to my face, "Maybe you should just go see where we are."
"Why?" Oisin asks.
"Because, unfortunately I'm fairly recognizable. And if this is a time period when I am running around, or worse when I'm not and it's before I should have been alive or after, or by our luck we run into someone who knows I was just somewhere else—,"
"Complications, right, right, okay, l can do a glamour. Means you won't be recognized by anyone who isn't looking for you, they're pretty easy, here," Oisin says, beckoning me forward.
"Easy for you," I say. Oisin is a master of disguise spells. I'm not great at them they take a lot of concentration and great imagination. Oisin is brilliant at them. He can shape shift fully into a deer at will and other forms though a stag is his preferred form.
"Ah, you'll get them," he says, laying a hand on my forehead. He murmurs a few words and I feel hot magic. Then he does the same thing to himself.
"What do we look like?" I ask, looking down at my hands.
"Oh, same to us, and anyone who truly knows or looks for us, e.g. the wains," he says, rolling his eyes. Wains means kids, namely our kids, Myrddin and Kat, who have been known to flip flop time periods after stealing amulets. "Anyone who doesn't know us, I just did a simple one, so we look basically like people who look similar to us, but not us. Just makes us unrecognizable. Figured I'd do me, for completeness."
"Fair," I say, following him. Oisin doesn't have magic burns all over his skin, but he is so fair haired he's white haired, which is striking, so best he's not recognized out of our time period. "Too much to hope we're in Ireland?"
"This isn't Ireland, I'd know," Oisin shakes his head, "Honestly, who goes around stealing a cursed blade?"
"English people, Oisin, they steal everything, it's half the problems in world history, seriously, we're likely in England," I say.
"I'll not argue with you there," he scoffs.
We make our way from the field to a main, muddy road. We're in the middle of nowhere. But I can see smoke rising in the distance. There are some people on the road, likely fleeing the fire? It looks fairly large, even if it is a few miles away.
"Can you give us directions?" I ask, the nearest travelers, a couple of men leading a donkey and cart. My iron ring amulet allows me to be understood in any tongue, but I'm surprised when I find myself speaking Welsh. We're in Wales?
"Where are you headed?" The man asks, not really stopping.
"We were going that way," I say, nodding towards the smoke, "Not a good idea I take it?"
"Not if you want to live, the Severn is to your back, I'd head west if I were you," the man says.
"The Severn?" I ask, my gut sinking. I know exactly where we are, "Are we nearly to Shrewsberry?"
"Aye, but the English occupy it now, they've turned us out, digging ditches, they've fully routed us from the town."
"Oh my god," I say, as my soul leaves my body.
"Best of luck to you," the man says, moving on.
"Thank you," I breath, incoherently. I can't believe this. I mean, yes I can but.
"What is it?" Oisin asks, taking my arm. He got none of that he doesn't speak Welsh enough to follow.
"You're ah—not going to like this," I say, heavily, "I'm pretty sure we're in 1403, July probably 19th Shrewsbury, Wales."
"What does that have to do with this cursed sword?" Oisin asks, shaking his head.
"You're ah, not going to like it," I wince.