The Thorian Sagas. 2. Insurrection.

“You may not enter there!”

They had been waiting for her outside of Bradshaw’s quarters.

Monique was not totally surprised to be challenged out of the darkness, seeing the leader of the Old Guard (Lewis, was her last name) step out of the shadows; her hand resting on her sheathed sword in a threatening way.

Monique recognized the danger with amusement, rather than with concern.

Bradshaw’s doing!

She quickly observed all of those points of weakness in an opponent that Stoker had trained her to see; the long hair that made Lewis vulnerable, as well as her over-confidence, and signs of more easy living on her middle. There were also others with her, still in the shadows.

They were here not just to stop her, but to arrest her, and then they would do the same for her colleagues when they next went back to the guard house. Except her fellow warriors would not be returning to the guard house.

Lewis seemed to hesitate when she saw that Monique was also armed and was not in any way intimidated or backing away from her authority, as she should have been. In fact, she looked attentive, aware of what was planned for her. There would be no element of surprise here, nor would this warrior easily back down. This one needed to be taught a lesson.

Not only that, but Monique had a look in her eyes that caused Lewis’s blood to chill, and to feel as though it would freeze in her veins.

MacBeaths did not usually have that poise, that confidence, nor did their eyes ever pierce as deeply as the older woman felt at that moment. Lewis, suddenly felt out of her depth.

Monique was aware of other movements, not far away, in the shadows on the other side of the door. She had been right. There were two others; with possibly more, lurking not far away.

They expected trouble from her. Bradshaw had alerted them.

Monique smiled.

They would get trouble too, if they tried to arrest her.

Lewis told her the way it now was.

“You and your troop have been replaced, MacBeath, as Guardians of the gate and of the city.”

Monique had half expected this.

“We were re-activated and brought back to guard duty when you were found to be neglecting it and having betrayed your trust, and the city.”

Bradshaw and her vindictiveness, again. So that was the way it was going to be.

“Councillor Bradshaw alerted us to you going out of the city without permission and putting the treaty in jeopardy. She told us that we should watch for you coming back in to make trouble for all of us. You should have remained outside. Why are you here, of all places, and why are you armed?”

There were other thoughts rolling around in Lewis’s mind that Monique could sense from her body language. They were the same thoughts that Bradshaw had entertained.

You are unkempt, dirty even; a disgrace to your calling.

But Lewis never said that aloud. Everything about Lewis’s attitude and body language was critical of what she could see of Monique, with sand still caking the lines on her face where perspiration had caused it to stick, and it was still being shed from her clothing and sandals.

The light was low, but Monique sensed that she was being judged for her undisciplined appearance, nettling the Old Guard chief just as Bradshaw had been offended. Lewis had been a martinet in her own right, and a stickler for formality and the spit and polish routine.

Lewis still looked that way; disapproving, and she was clearly over-confident in her own abilities after never being challenged, at any time of her tenure as a guard, to step outside of what she knew.

Monique had tolerated Lewis’s ways, during that time of training and transition, until Lewis and her fellow guards had stepped aside, and then Monique had decided for herself how things would be, in the Guard House.

“Why did you go out of the city? You knew that was against the law. You should have known better than to go out after any tribute.”

Monique knew the lies that must have been told, and found it amusing that Lewis could be so gullible.

“Is that what Bradshaw told you? That we went out of our own volition after a tribute?”

Lewis was offended by that curt, even impolite reference to the head councillor.

“Councillor Bradshaw, to you! Let us remember not to be disrespectful.” She knew others were listening, and played upon her former status, always ready to put down one of her trainees.

“You went out to try and bring a friend back, from that fate. That was what I heard.”

Monique chuckled, further rattling the older woman. This warrior should be more respectful than this of the chief councillor, especially just outside of her rooms; and also more respectful of her.

“I thought you knew Bradshaw better than that.”

Lewis would not dare to respond to that comment, but everyone who knew Councillor Bradshaw walked on eggs around her.

She was always leery of being too close to that councillor… to any councillor, but one did not admit that out loud to anyone… not even to family.

“I don’t know what lie Bradshaw told you, but she was the one who sent us out to recover her niece; Crystal Fuller, who was that tenth tribute. She was not a close friend of mine. I did not know her at all.”

From the look on Lewis’s face, Monique could see that Lewis did not believe her.

“So, she didn’t tell you that the tenth tribute was her own niece. Be sure to mention that to her at some stage and watch for her surprise that you might know that. That will put the lie to what she said about me.”

Lewis would be careful what she said to Bradshaw. She knew enough about the chief councillor for that, at least; speaking only when spoken to, and volunteering nothing. However, she knew enough to keep her ears open.

The other two warriors with Lewis were inching forward in an obvious way, waiting for some sign, or a signal.

Monique positioned herself, ready for the coming attack without making it too obvious.

“Bradshaw was careful to leave nothing in writing, of course.

“What she didn’t know, was that the other weasel in the council… Simpson… you know her of course... had put Crystal’s name back onto the tribute list to get back at Bradshaw.”

Monique sensed the others getting closer.

“She was the one who saw a chance to send that niece out, as a tribute, while Bradshaw was tied up in a family feud with her sister, so be cautious what, and whom you choose to believe.”

She looked pointedly at Lewis and glanced in the direction of the two other guards closing in on her.

“Really? Do you honestly want to take me on? You shouldn’t, you know.”

That was when Lewis gave the signal to move in and pinion Monique’s arms before she would draw her sword or defend herself.

Stoker’s training kicked in fast. The year of them constantly taking him on… challenging him… suffering defeat after ignominious defeat, now paid off again.

The foremost warrior, running at her, was not met with any resistance but quite the opposite, finding her momentum being added to, as she was thrown hard up against Lewis, knocking them both off balance.

The second warrior had the breath knocked out of her body by being thrown hard to the stone ground over Monique’s hip, to lie there, winded, and with many aches and pains to analyze; and hopefully, nothing broken.

Before Lewis could recover and draw her sword, she felt her head pulled hard back by her long hair as Monique’s arm circled her neck from behind.

Monique checked the dark corridor behind her.

There were no others.

They had assumed three would be more than enough.

Fools!

She spoke into Lewis’s ear.

“I have no wish to harm you, or to make you look helpless in front of your own guards. Do you yield, or do I have to throttle you and harm your companions further?”

Lewis tapped her arm and then croaked her surrender.

“I yield.”

She felt herself released, not sure how this warrior could so easily deal with three of them.

“Where did you learn…? We never stopped training, even after we stepped aside, yet you made that seem so easy.”

Monique was still wary, but was able to laugh at Lewis’s naivete.

“It was easy. We were taught by the best.”

And that, had not been Lewis and her deficient training.

“The first easy lesson for all of us, was to get rid of that long hair, or have it used to subdue us, as I just did with you.”

Taught by the best?

Lewis was confused to hear that. She, was the best. Or she had once been. She, had trained Monique and her fellow guards, just as she, herself, had been taught.

Monique explained. There would be no greater harm likely to come at them for telling them anything about Stoker.

“The trader who came every week after you had stepped aside?” Lewis barely remembered that day, but just nodded.

“He was not what he seemed. That Yunk, was actually a Thorian, and no one knew, not even us, for many a year. He trained us. He traded us these necklaces we all wear, and the bearskins we sleep upon. We worked hard to earn them from him.”

Lewis’s mouth had dropped open at hearing that.

A Thorian in the Guardhouse? And training them? How had that been possible. Thorians could never be trusted. They were thugs!

She would have preferred not to have heard any of that. Not about a Thorian being in their city each week for the last few years. How had they not all been murdered in their beds?

Monique was in charge of this situation, and Lewis had to accept that.

“I suggest you wait out here, while I go in to see her. Don’t worry; I shall not harm her, despite her treachery and lies, but I have things to tell her that she needs to know. I will leave this door open for you to listen to that conversation. You may learn something about the lies she concocted for you.

“After that, I shall leave. By then, you will know enough not to try and stop me.”

Lewis had already learned that lesson. She had never seen anyone move so fast or with such suppleness, determination, and strength. Thorian trained? She would have to think about that.

Monique tried to reassure her on other things.

“Your position of being reinstated as the guardian of the gate and of the city will not be challenged. We have other things to do that you might be wise to become aware of, so listen carefully. Do not admit to hearing any of our conversation, or you may also become as expendable as we did.”