The King's Gauntlet

Castle Ambry

Castle Ambry was everything I had heard it to be. A cold, sodden outpost in the southern extremity of Aland's territory. This was a rain-soaked and barren land of rocks and scraggly bushes, and while a few intrepid farmers eked out a living here, most of the population were fisher folk. My teachers had always said—and the Jackal had later emphasized in her geography lectures—that there was a rich bounty of seafood here, despite the rocky shoals and shifting winds.

After a hard-won victory in my grandfather's time, a castle had been constructed to garrison this windswept region. Twenty years later, Castle Ambry dominated the coastline, a fortress of black stone home to a sizable garrison of troops. A number which, I supposed, was about to increase by two.

"I hereby release you both from my service," Baroness von Opfen declared, with a touch of mock formality, as we passed under the raised portcullis of the North Gate. Stern guards in a mixture of plate armor and chainmail kept watch as the wagon rattled along, the circus caravan heading toward the fortress' central plaza. "Serve your King proudly."

"Thanks!" Harold replied, unable to wipe a grin off his face. It had been rough going the last few days, burying the dead before continuing on the final stretch of road to Castle Ambry, but Harold's excitement had returned as we neared our destination. "But how will you do without us?"

"Oh, I'll be fine," she replied with a chuckle. "Every town I reach there are more than a few curious souls eager to join the circus. Besides, I'll be leaving to carry out a project of my own."

Harold blinked. "What kind of..."

He trailed off as the Baroness shook her head with a slight smile. "Oh, here she is. I'll take the reins."

The Lynx approached at a trot. She'd joined Ferrand at the front, no doubt to explain her mission to the Gauntlets here. "Elly, with me. Ah... Harold, you might as well come along as well. We need to report to the Commandant first. Then we can deal with the rest afterward."

"But the... crocodile," I began.

"We'll deal with them later." The Lynx nodded up at the Baroness. "She's more than capable of handling a few beasties on her own."

"I'd like to think so. The mine depends on it."

I hopped down off the wagon before the Lynx snapped at me any further, my boots splashing in a pool of rainwater. That was the first I'd heard of any mine, but it was common knowledge that the Baroness was an active merchant of uncommon abilities. Harold grunted as he joined us, and we trailed the Lynx through the cobblestone streets of the inner fortress. We passed a stall where an intent-looking woman repetitively stirred an enormous, sweetly scented pan filled with noodles and fish.

The Lynx continued unerringly down one side street and then another, taking each turn with casual confidence. They passed through a muddy alleyway before emerging into an open, cobblestone street lined by nondescript houses. Seated at the steps of one house was a man with one leg, playing a fiddle and humming to himself. The gentle music faded away as they approached.

"Heya, Lynx," the man said.

"Dirk."

"Guess you haven't lost your way."

She snorted. "Not after all the time I spent here. Move aside, old man, we have a couple new recruits."

"'Old man' she says," this so-called Dirk muttered as he made room on the steps. Harold grimaced guiltily as he passed by.

"Uh, is Knight Gunter here? I was assigned to squire for him."

The old Gauntlet—for what else could he be?—let out a humorless chuckle. "Oh yes. Gunter is waiting for you."

"Great!"

The Lynx opened the green door before us, and we stepped into the common room of a deceptively large building. A long wooden table took up the center of the establishment, and a half dozen men and women in mail and tabards paused their discussion. Steam rose from the mugs beside each person. At the head of the table, a man with a close-cropped gray beard and ostentatious bushy eyebrows rose, leaning against his seat.

"And what do we have here?" he asked, pausing only to sip at his mug.

The Lynx straightened, carrying out a brisk, parade ground salute. "Commandant Knutson, this is Agent Lynx reporting in with two new candidates. The special delivery, as mentioned previously, along with secondary special cargo currently in the care of Baroness von Opfen's Bestiary." She paused, glancing at Harold beside her. The young man had a tremulous, nervous smile as he looked from one hard face to the next. "As well as a second recruit vetted by a noble by a loyal family and sent to squire."

Harold flashed his teeth. "Harold, my lord. Is Knight Gunther here? I am sent to be his squire."

The Commandant smiled slightly. "You're in the right place, young man." He gestured to one of the empty chairs. "Take a seat. We'll only be a few more minutes." His gaze fell on me. "Are you to be another squire?"

"Uh..." I glanced at the Lynx. Had they just fobbed me off to polish the armor for some middle-aged career soldier? "I'm... Elly. And no. No, I'm here for the Gauntlet training."

The man with the bushy eyebrows raised them high, then glanced at the Lynx. She shrugged. "I started the training early with this one. Special exception."

"Indeed," he muttered. "Will you be joining us or heading out?"

"Once we secure the... special cargo, I plan on leaving either by land or sea before nightfall," the Lynx replied. I felt a touch of disappointment at that. She was a harsh instructor, but she at least was a remnant of my previous life. The Commandant dismissed us together, and we hurried through the fortress streets back to where the Bestiary had been gathered at the quiet western end of Castle Ambry's plaza.

By the time we'd drifted through the circus—wagons unlimbering and performers practicing for the night's entertainment—a detachment of soldiers in plate armor stood ready beside Rag's wagon. The Lynx strode up to the officer in charge, and with a few brief words conveyed our purpose here. The leader was a tall man with shining blue eyes who assessed me for a long moment.

"And this must be... the young woman from the royal court."

It was as clear a statement as could be made here. I nodded. "I've been going by Elly," I explained.

The officer nodded back. "Forgive me if I don't bow," he said in a soft voice that barely carried to me, "but we must ensure your cover remains intact. I'm Vandros Thurrson, Castle Ambry's Gauntlet Patrol Leader. I'll be assisting with your training... should you remain here."

"And my companion?" I asked, gesturing to the cage as it was wheeled away under special care of the guard. Rags shuffled behind the canvas and iron bars as he was once again pulled away by a pair of oxen. "I would like to see him."

Vandros scratched at his nose with a distant, thoughtful expression in his eyes. "I suppose, from time to time, that could be arranged. Not to worry, we'll take the finest care of him. I am very much aware that Aland's future safety depends on large part on our companion here."

Voices echoed above, and a shadow passed over them—a lean figure vaulting from one towering wooden platform to another. Vandros noticed her gaze and smiled. "Ah, yes, our obstacle course. Any Gauntlet worth their salt can travel from rooftop to rooftop, agile and discreet enough to keep watch on their quarry. Often the very thought of having to complete the course is enough to end a potential recruit's journey here." He smirked. "What do you think of it?"

"I think..." I took a deep breath, gazing upward earnestly as a second figure leaped across a huge gulf, landing and rolling on another wooden platform. "I can't wait to start!"