part 3

Ares had to admit that Graystown was more impressive than he had expected. Apparently, even with hundreds (thousands?) of people in a town they were still afraid of wild animals, since the entire town was surrounded by a wall of wood and stone 15ft high. Since they were coming down from the mountains, Ares could see down into the town long before they were near and was amazed at how crowded everything looked. Buildings and the tiny specks of people were crammed into the roughly circular town and smoke streamed from hundreds of chimneys. 

The road they were on wined down the mountain towards the south gate of the town and there looked to be another gate on the north side. A river ran by the town a few hundred feet to the west and there were various buildings running alongside it. To the east it looked as if some brave souls were trying their hand at farming the rocky soil in valley between the town and the mountain forest.

Ares wanted to get out and run to the gate, or run over and look at the buildings along the river, but he forced himself to sit still, not wanting to cause Faral any embarrasment by acting like a country bumpkin. He had no idea everyone in the town was a country bumpkin but he remember his grandfather’s warning about bringing them dishonor and thought embarrassing Faral might do that.

The finally got to within hailing distance of the gates about an hour after noon. Instead of stopping for lunch Faral had pushed on, wanting a real meal in a tavern he said. However Ares sensed Faral was apprehensive as they continued closer to the gate and no guard called to them nor did the gates start to open. There seemed to be a lot of noise coming from inside the town. Ares expected it to be noisy but this seemed more like yelling, or maybe fighting than the sounds of industry.

“What’s going on? Ares asked as the wagon slowed to a stop outside the gates.

“I’m not sure lad. Maybe there’s a town meeting, or some criminals on trial.” Faral look around nervously and Ares thought he should have been more accustomed to things like this since he traveled all over.

“I’ll go check it out!” Ares announced, excited to finally be able to move about at more than the mules pace of the wagon. Before Faral could stop him Ares sprang to his feet then leapt up, easily jumping the 15 feet to catch the top of the wall and then flipped himself over onto the walkway that ran around the town. He dashed along the wall, his blood red coat flapping behind him (he had refused to remove the entire trip) circling the town until he found where the commotion was. 

There was a large gathering in an open space that was roughly the middle of the town. The town square Ares guessed. It looked as if all the towns people were facing off against a small group. There didn’t seem to be any fighting, but as Ares approached closer he could tell the townspeople were angry and frightened. Ares grinned fiercely and then dashed right for the group, leaping easily from the wall to roof top, the sloped roofs and slick shingles nowhere near as difficult to navigate as the mountains he had trained on.

The people are angry and afraid, he thought as he quickly approached. As a knight, it’s my duty to protect them! Although this was not technically true, since he was pretty sure the towns and people this far south did not even know of the Crimson Knights existence, since they were from the Dionic Empire, far to the north. Ares did not let little details bother him. Knights protect all innocent humans, regardless of their faith or country.
Ares made one last leap and landed in the clearing between the townspeople and the small group. He landed in a crouching position his coat flapping around him and finally settling as he stood, the clearing had become completely silent as he appeared and he looked around. The towns people didn’t look much different than the villagers he had known growing up, although they seemed to have cleaner clothes and less beards. The smaller group looked somewhat like Baruvius and Galudur, although much shorter of course. The five of them wore furs and mismatched leather and chain armor. They had an assortment of swords and knives strapped to them. Their bears and hair were unkempt and tangled. Ares also noticed, they stank.

Ares took this all in in a second. He spun to the townspeople and spoke proudly, holding his head high. “People of Graystown! I am a Crimson Knight (in training). Are these guys bothering you?” He pointed his thumb back behind him with the last line. The silence remained for a few moments longer, then the crowd began again, even louder, asking what a kid was doing there, telling him to get lost, or get to safety, depending on their demeanor.

The 5 men behind him had a different response and approached him. He could sense the hostility from them and turned nonchalantly to face them, a bit bemused by the chaotic response he had gotten from the townspeople. You would think they would be happy a knight had come to defend them.

One of the men, who seemed to be dirtier and smellier than the others, and so probably the leader Ares thought, growled a curse and went to shove Ares aside. He easily swayed out of the way and then stepped out of the way as the man charged at him. His dodge sent the unkempt man barreling into the largest human Ares had ever seen. Although he was nothing compared to his giant friends, the man who had stepped out of the crowd was over 6ft tall and with a barrel chest and enormously muscled arms. Judging by the thick leather apron he wore and hammer at his belt, Ares thought he was the town blacksmith.

Ares would be attacker stumbled backward as he bounced off the giant man and looked up at him. His voice trembled a little as he cursed the man, looking up at him. “Don’t get in our way blacksmith!”
I was right! Ares thought, this town stuff is easy. Unfortunately Ares missed part of the conversation while he was congratulating himself.

“…and you don’t want that, do you?” The man no longer looked even slightly intimidated by the blacksmith as he threatened him. In fact it was the blacksmith that back away a little, looking at Ares with a frown.
“Hey, I wasn’t listening” Ares announced unashamedly. “What’s going on? Are these guys causing problems or not?”

He heard a shout from the crowd that he was the one causing problems but decided to ignore it and waited for one of the two men facing each other to reply.

It was the unkempt man or spoke first, “Whose brat is this anyway? Don’t you people know how to keep your kids in line? At this rate I might just go tell the boss we should destroy you all afterall!”

There was more shouting from the crowd, really it was giving Ares a headache. “So, are you guys bandits? Who’s your boss?” Suddenly the blacksmith placed his hand on Ares shoulder and then looked at him startled, Ares did not even notice the big man’s attempt to push him back into the crowd.

“Yes, we’re bandits!” The other man shouted, his temper giving out as Ares stood before him unafraid. “I’m killing this brat!” He shouted into the crowd. “Anyone try to stop me and your town is next!” He grinned savagely, showing off a mouthful of blackened teeth as he drew a rusty sword from his back. The blacksmith tried to step between the Bandit and Ares as the sword started to descend but Ares stepped forward first and slapped the sword out of the bandits hand, sending it spinning into the dirt where it snapped in to. The Bandit stared at his hand, where two of his fingers where bent back at a grotesque angle. He screamed in pain and rage and the other 4 bandits drew their weapons.

The townspeople barely had a chance to grasp what was happening before the 4 bandits lay lifeless on the ground, their blood soaking into the town square. The had barely advanced a step before Ares drew his sword, (his old sword, he wouldn’t use the black blade on simple bandits) and cut them down, one slash for each bandit quicker than the eyes of the blacksmith or bandit leader could follow. Ares flicked his sword clean then sheathed it, looking at the bandit leader. 

“Are we fighting or not?” The bandit leader cursed him and then turned and ran. Ares watched bemusedly as the man ran off unsteadily, not sure what to do when an enemy runs. In all the stories his grandfather told him no one ever fled battle. Well he supposed bandits weren’t knights so he shouldn’t be surprised by what they did. He decided to ignore the man and turn to the townspeople.

“The bandits are defeated.” 

The big blacksmith raised his hand and shouted for the newly excited crowd to quite. Ares wasn’t sure why they were so upset with him, yelling that he had killed them all or something. It didn’t make any sense.

“Do you know what you’ve done boy” The blacksmith asked, his voice surprisingly soft considering his size.

“It’s a knights duty to defeat bandits, so I did.” Ares said loftily.

“We could have beaten those five ourselves. It’s their boss that’s the problem. Now that we’ve stood up to them, he’ll come and tear the city apart.” The blacksmith shook his head sadly. “I know you were trying to do the right thing kid but you’ve just made things worse.”

“Oh. Well I’ll just defeat their Boss too then. When’s he coming?” Ares didn’t really see the problem and he wasn’t the type to leave things half-finished anyway. “I’ll defeat the rest of the bandits too. It’s my duty after all.” 

“You don’t understand boy. You defeated those guys easily so you might be what you say, but the bandit boss, Marak, is a monster. He’s a Maneater.” The blacksmith spoke the last with obvious fear in his voice and the rest of the crowd started muttering again.

Ares had no idea what a Maneater was, it didn’t really matter though. “I will defeat this Marak” Ares declared, no hesitation in his voice. “Now can someone let Faral in, the back gate is closed.”

The next morning, Ares stood atop the north gate, his blood red coat flapping in the wind like a banner as he waited for the bandits come. He was still rather bemused about last night. Once Faral had come in the townspeople had turned on him, blaming him for bringing Ares who had caused such trouble, to the town. It had been quite difficult to find a meal and an inn, and Faral despaired of selling his goods. However, he had a good reputation with the townspeople since he had been traveling through there for decades and eventually he and the blacksmith had talked to the mob down. What had seemed about to turn into a riot was turned into a discussion about defense and eventually the townspeople started to hurry about, sharpening weapons, hiding valuables and praying. Ares tried to tell them it was unnecessary, they would not have to fight as long as he, a knight, was present but they refused to listen.

It was however, incredibly boring waiting for the bandits to show up. Maybe bandits liked to sleep in? It was normal to have duels at dawn or noon, and it was close to noon already. Bandits were Ares decided, quite rude. He did not turn as the blacksmith, whom he learned was also the mayor, came up to the wall to stand beside him.

“Are you really a knight?” The blacksmith asked, his calm soft voice somehow still loud enough to hear over the strong winds blowing down from the mountains. 

“Well” Ares faltered. “I’m a squire really. But grandfather said as soon as I lose a duel I will be a full knight, so it’s just a matter of time.” Ares finished quickly, not sure if had lied or been dishonorable. He would have to be more careful in the future, but grandfather had called him a knight. 

The blacksmith had a strange look on his face and was about to reply when Ares let out a shout of excitement, point off into the distance. “Here they come! A bunch of them! I can’t wait to see this Marak.”
The blacksmith peered up the road and could barely see the bandits far up the road. He would not have noticed them without it being pointed out to him.