Wrangling a Peacock Part 3

Chapter 79

Reskeme strolled casually along the edge of the street, keeping an eye out for roving soldiers. He walked through the upper quarter of the city, keeping in the noble district. Clang! Clang! Clang! There it was again. The faint ringing of a bell drifted to his ears. That was odd, In all of his years in the city he hadn't heard that bell before. From the noble district, the sound of the bell distant.

The ground shook. Something must be wrong. Reskeme shuddered, the rumbling reminded him of the shimmering explosions of the Darvan mages. It couldn't be? The Darva were not attacking Drent, they couldn't be here. Several minutes passed as he sat and listened. Boom! and the ground shook. Reskeme felt a chill run up his back, his heart racing as he kept moving towards his last goal before leaving the city. With the Darva Attacking he would need to rush his plans before leaving.

He took an alley to skirt around an entry gate; he didn't want to risk the guards seeing him. Clang! Clang! Clang! He froze, what? Did they spot him? How? he couldn't even see the gate. Peeking around the corner of the alley he spotted a guard down the street standing on the wall ringing a large bell franticly. The four guards were rushing about, but not one of them was looking in his direction. All the guards were looking into the lower city.

Reskeme needed to hurry, over the heads of the guards he could see a massive fire towering into the sky. If this was a Darvan attack, he had little time. Reskeme walked past hedges and iron gates. Crouching, he stopped on the corner of a large two story building. The large double doors leading into the house swung open, slamming against the wall. Bathed in torchlight Three nobles The peacock, A young boy and their father exited the building. Guards dressed in gold painted armour frantically escorted them out of the building.

Walking next to them was a man dressed in the uniform of a messenger from the lord of the city. Reskeme hid in the hedge, his legs and side getting poked by the bristly bush. He was close to the retreating group, catching their words.

"My lord, the Darva have broken into the lower city and are making their way to the merchant's quarter." said the messenger, his voice panicked.

"What! How did they get into the city?" Said The Older noble.

"They came in through the sewers, we did not know they were in until they killed all the guards at the east gate." said the messenger.

"How many are there?" said the Noble, his voice shaking

"At first there was only around Fifty, then they opened the east gate." said the Messenger, his face pale.

"How many!" yelled Lord Marte

"At, At least three hundred in the city maybe more." said The Messenger

"Father! Dont worry father, I will show those evil Darva what happens if they attack the greatest fire mage." said Elijah, the young boy holding a clenched fist into the air.

Reskeme smiled, the young boy was still as confident as ever. He could see Lord Martes Face when the man turned and smiled down at the youngest.

"Not today, son, we need to retreat for now. The enemy outnumbers our soldiers in the city." said Lord Marte as he ruffled the young boy's hair.

"Father we can't leave yet, the demon is still alive in won't let that bastard escape!" said the Peacock

"Guards! Bring the Carriage and pack us only what we need, haste is of utmost important." said lord Marte.

"Im not going until I get my Revenge, I will catch up to you on the road." said the Peacock.

"I do not care what you do. Elijah is my heir anyway!" shouted Lord Marte, face turning a bright red.

"I will show you, Father. when I become a hero of the kingdom it will force you to accept me as your heir." said the peacock as he stormed from the courtyard back into the house.

From the rear of the property, a covered cart rattled along the stone path, stopping in front of the mansion. The guards and servants piled it with items, running out with bags and even a gold and silver chair, tying it to the roof of the carriage. Nobles were weird. Lord Marte and his youngest climbed in the open door, shutting themselves in. The clatter of hooves on stone as ten house guards rode from the back, each on a horse.

Several minutes of waiting and the carriage followed by all the guards clattered through the front gate. They disappeared towards the west gate, vanishing, leaving Reskeme alone in his hedge. Reskeme smiled, his heart raced in his chest as he rounded the building looking for an entry point. He hoped there was just a peacock waiting to be plucked.

Reskeme found a side door, maybe a servant entrance? and twisted the doorknob. Perfect, in their haste, the guards had left the door unlocked. Entering the candlelit room, he noticed pots and pans lined along the wall. A fire with various metal items hanging above the fireplace. He searched the room, looking for something sharp. He opened drawers on the wooden cabinets until he found a drawer with knives arranged in neat rows.

He pulled out a long thin knife; he cut some cloth on the counter, admiring its fine edge. Reskeme glanced back to the counter, noticing a wooden rolling pin. He strode across the room and grasped the heavy wooden weapon. Now he was ready, clutching the knife in one hand and his makeshift mace in the other. As he pushed open the door, listening for sound.

Slam! Peeking through the partially opened door, Reskeme watched as the peacock walked down the stairs. He had a sword tied on his side. The overly bright sword had two lines of bright metal, gold and silver trailing down the scabbard, swirling. Reskeme swallowed, the sword almost hit on the ground as the man stomped down the stairs, the sword slightly curved with a gold and silver cross guard. The man wore a red tunic and green pants. His hat looked ridiculous. It looked like a small river boat. The brown hat wobbling, shaking the three bright feathers sticking out of the side.

Heart beating wildly, Reskeme clenched his weapons. His weapons feeling inadequate against the man's sabre. Reskeme pushed open the side door and sprinted across the open room, doing his best to silence his feet. His leather boots scuffed on the smooth tile floor and the Peacock turn toward him. The mans eyes widened as Reskeme swung his rolling pin towards the man's head.

Dodging at the last moment, the Peacock avoided most of the Wooden rolling pin. Forcing the rolling pin to glance off his head, sending the man's hat flying. The Peacock tumbled and rolled away, clambering to his feet. One hand gripping his head and the other reaching for his sword. The Peacock tried to unsheathe his sword drawing the weapon halfway, Reskeme lept forward driving his knife towards the peacocks sword arm.

The sword came free of its scabbard just as Reskemes' kitchen knife buried into the back of the older mans forearm. Ahhhh! Clank!, his enemy's sword clattered to the floor. Reskeme pressed his attack as the Peacock grimaced. Reskeme breathed heavily, only seconds after beginning the fight. The Peacock retreated and cradled his arm, blood leaking down his chest as he glared at Reskeme.

Reskeme smirked at the older man." Good evening, Peacock. I see you have dropped your hat."

"You? How are you here? Your supposed to be in prison." said the Peacock face turning a lighter shade.

Reskeme felt somewhat Dramatic and reached up with one hand to remove his amulet. Judging by the man's wince, he found Reskeme's appearance rather disturbing.

"Yes, its me. Im here to get Revenge." said Reskeme as he glared into the peacocks pain-filled eyes.

"You cannot kill me, Im a noble!" shouted the Peacock as he backed towards the wall. Reskeme followed step for step, keeping the dropped sabre behind him out of the peacock's reach.

"And who is going to stop me? Besides, your little brother is the heir. Your father won't even miss you." said Reskeme, grinning.

"I am going to be the Heir, when I deliver your head to my father he will change his mind." said the Peacock.

The Peacock scowled at Reskeme and struck forward, his jab connecting with Reskeme's gut. Reskeme cut the man's cheek as he retreated,

Reskeme doubled over in pain, falling to the ground. Gasping for breath, he scrambled to get out of the way as the Peacock's boot connected with his shoulder. He dropped the kitchen knife from his hand as his arm spasmed in pain. Body aching and eyes blurry, he rolled to the side, getting an unobstructed view of the peacock. The mans right arm dangled, bleeding profusely at the Peacocks side. The man ran around Reskeme and grasped the Sabre awkwardly, holding it in his off-hand.

Reskeme gulped, eyeing the arm length of sharp steel. The Peacock grinned at him as he swished the sword through the air.

" Not so tough now that I have a sword are you demon?" Said the Peacock.

" Lets talk this out, no need to use a sword, have you no honour?" said Reskeme

" How dare you, calling my honour into question!" shouted the Peacock.

Reskeme Clambered to his feet, turning around and darted towards the kitchen exit. Rolling pin in hand, he charged toward the kitchen. He wasn't a coward; he was just improving his odds of winning; he told himself. If he went into a smaller space, then that Sabre might be harder to use. Reaching the door, Reskeme glanced over his shoulder. Frantically he grasped the doorknob, his Numb left hand slipping, unable to get a good grip. The Peacock hot on his heels thrust the long saber towards Reskeme's eye.

Dodging to the side, the blade grazed his cheek. Burning pain shot through him as the blade punctured his left ear. Reskeme tugged his head to the side, wrenching away from the steel. Hot blood flowed down his neck, as burning pain shot through his body.

Reskeme stumbled forwards, bringing his makeshift mace down on the Peacocks arm. A loud crack like breaking wood reverberated through the room, Eyes bulging in his head the peacock gaped at the odd bend in his forearm.

His temples throbbed, but he braced through the pain. Crouching, he brought his knee up with all of his might into the Peacocks groin. The older boy stumbled, clutching between his legs, dropping his long saber, leaving his chest open.

The Peacock choked, screaming and gasping in pain. Reskeme leaned down staring into teary scared eyes he picked up the long saber and plunged it into the Peacock's gut. Bright fabric parted as the heavy weapon sunk to the hilt in the noble's stomach. The mans eyes bulged in their sockets, as he coughed blood all over Reskeme's chest. Reskeme tore the saber to the side, violently wrenching on the blade, widening the wound. Unwilling to take the chance, Reskeme clenched the blood-soaked Saber and stabbed the man up under his ribs for the sure kill.

Staring down, he gasped for breath, wincing as a lance of pain shot through his ear. Shaking his head, he stagger dropping the saber. Drained he knelt, feeling through his enemy's pockets. What? one pocket jingled and much to Reskeme anger, the man only had five copper. Reskeme sighed before he unbuckled the man's scabbard.

At least he could sell the sword for some actual coins. Shaking his head, he limped over and leaning down grasped the sword hilt. Soft blue fabric covered its handle, the hilt stained in crimson blood. The gold and silver hand guard was rather mesmerizing now that he could take a moment to look it over.

The sword was ridiculously bright, an expensive version of one of the army issue cavalry sabres. What a waste. This was completely useless for sneaking around. Sighing, Reskeme sheathed the bloody sword. If only he wasn't shit at fighting with a sword, it might be useful. Scurrying to the back of the mansion, he found the guard barracks. The guard's quarters, were wide open as though begging him to enter.

Letting himself in he roved around until he found a well-used spear. The weapon, a wooden pole with a metal point, was more Reskemes style. It was off balance, and of poor quality. Well, now at least he had a weapon slightly better than a pointy stick. Maybe he could buy an actual weapon when he arrived in Pentir, he decided. Reskeme borrowed a weird leather bag with a flower stitched into the flap from one bedroom.

He found some white sheets and cut long strips of cloth. Staring in the mirror, he eyed the large gash on his left ear. Wrapping the fabric tight, Reskeme tied it around his head, hoping it might stop the bleeding. Collecting some more fabric for later, he went to the kitchen, filling the bag with bread and some cuts of meat, and a large water skin. He wasn't sure how to cook slabs of meat, but it couldn't be too hard. Boom!

The ground shook as an explosion went off outside of the house, cutting Reskeme's blatant thievery short. Spear in hand, he ran to the front window only to notice the tops of the building shaded in orange light. A fire? Heavy pack jostling on his back, he departed with his spear in hand and sabre tied to his belt.

Now that he was outside, he caught a shrieking howl as it tore through the night. Reskeme knew that howl. It was Darva on the warpath. Head throbbing, Reskeme jogged the opposite way. He caught the distinct sound of claws on stone from an alley in front of him. Sliding to a halt he lept into a door jamb holding still, his body throbbing at the sudden movement. Five Darvan warriors rushed past him, how odd. The one in the front was by far the smallest Darva he had ever seen.

Oh well, that didn't matter. Feeling like an idiot, Reskeme gently slipped his illusion amulet over his head. Wincing, he did his best, avoiding his damaged ear. Before he ran down the street, away from the burning buildings. Forcing his body onward until he reached the west gate. He passed a squad of thirty soldiers running towards the fire.

They simply ignored him as they marched by. Gasping for breath, he clutched his knees. Around him people pushed and yelled rushing from the city. They had the right idea. He adjusted his pack, made sure his sabre was secure. He brushed his hand reassuringly over his coin pouch and pushed his way through the press of bodies leaving the west gate.