Ch. 10: James Bastion

In his dream, Adrian was young, maybe four years old, and in the courtyard training with his old swordsmanship instructor, a retired war hero named Sir Tam. Sr Tam was easily putting him on his butt, even though Adrian was moving notably faster. Young Adrian heard a girl's voice, clear as day, 

Is practice going well? She asked him sarcastically.

Do you have any advice for me? He thought back. Suddenly, he felt a new maneuver seep into his brain.

What do you think? She asked.

You are absolutely perfect. He thought. He allowed Tam to help him back up.

"I think that we should wrap this up for the day. Work on that footwork." Sir Tam decided.

"I want to have one more go." Adrian readied himself. Seeing his enthusiasm, Tam gave in.

"Alright, but this is the last one." They went again. This time, Addrian was more cautious, going on the defensive and observing Tam's style. He could sense someone else observing the fight through his eyes, keeping their immediate thoughts out of his brain to let him figure it out for himself.

See that? She prodded him.

"Yeah." He answered aloud. He waited, and surely enough, it came again, a backhand swing that went slightly too far out. He used the opportunity to test the girl's maneuver. He knocked Tam's sword out of the way and used the momentum to flick the hilt into Tam's face to disorient him and draw his blade back to a weak, panicked defensive stance that Adrian completely ignored. In moments, Adrian's sword was at Sir Tam's throat.

"Impressive. That was quick improvement."

"I had help."

And just like that, he woke up.

...

Even though it was technically afternoon, the moment he woke up was also the moment that Adrian realized that he was definitely not a morning person. Rosy was the opposite, though. By the time Adrian had woken up enough to be aware of his surroundings, she had the lanky man who had walked into the storehouse pinned to the wall by a dagger in each of his sleeves.

"James Bastion. Rumor has it that you know how to contact the Resistance."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The trader told her stubbornly.

"You know who I am, right?" She asked.

"Death." A surprisingly accurate answer.

"Then you know that if I wanted you, or your superiors dead, your affiliation with the resistance would mean nothing to me. I don't capture, I kill... My father has no desire to wipe the resistance out completely, so I would normally have no reason to leave you alive." Rosy pulled one of her daggers out. Nobody would be dumb enough to try to free themselves the rest of the way, anyways.

"If you don't want to capture me and force me to give up the rest of the resistance, and you don't want to kill me, then what do you want?" He asked, suspicious. She removed the other dagger, freeing Bastion from the wall.

"My father intercepted communications between you and the resistance. He doesn't consider them a threat, but he wants to send a message that traitors earn nothing but their heads on a pike." She explained.

He nodded in understanding, "so he sent his most efficient assassin to do the job, unaware of your history."

"History?" Adrian asked.

"If he isn't already aware of it, he will be soon." She ignored Adrian.

"And when his confidence in you fades, he'll send someone else after me, if he hasn't already."

"We need to connect with the resistance, and you need to get out of the city, so our needs at the moment align." Rosy told him.

"What kind of idiot would I need to be to take the king's daughter and protege to the heart of the resistance?" Bastion leaned against the wall, sensing that he had the advantage, but then Adrian cut in,

"A desperate idiot."

"You've already used your trump card. I'll be long gone before I'm in any danger. Why exactly would I be the desperate one here?"

"Because you want change." Adrian told him, "I haven't seen much of this world, but I can tell that it's swallowed in metaphorical darkness. The king rules by fear, the rich are selfish and enjoy stepping on the backs of the common man, and the streets are overflowing with murderers and thieves, whom nobody does anything to stop."

Bastion's eyes narrowed, "that's just the way things are."

"You can't just accept that!" Adrian argued, shouting.

"Of course not! That is why we formed the resistance in the first place, to make a difference." Bastion told him angrily.

"You aren't." Rosy pushed past Adrian to get to the back of the storehouse, "you are my father's excuse for getting rid of whatever he dislikes, but in reality, you are nothing more than a bug to squash underfoot."

"If we're so useless, why do you want our help?"

"I'm a sword. Bugs can be pretty annoying with stingers, you know." She broke into the liquor cabinet and took a swig of something inside while Bastion mulled it over. Eventually, he made a decision.

"Fine, we'll grab what supplies we can and leave immediately." They each grabbed something different... Bastion took a few personal items, while Rosy carried a tent and three sleeping bags over to the front of the room. Adrian set a pack filled with food and water for a few weeks, and a second tent.

"We're not walking, right?" Adrian asked.

"No, they check identities at the city gate, so we'll need a carriage to hide you two in." Bastion told him. He dropped his bag beside the other two, "I'll go and get the emergency carriage and be back within the hour." Bastion hurried out.