Chapter VI - Maidens and the Hanged Man
Maidens and the Hanged Man
Chapter V
First, the Maidens...
Tonight is my first night walking with the Lady’s Watch. I read the by-laws this afternoon, written on the Watch Hall walls:
“A squad in the Lady’s Watch is made up of five able-bodied folk, born and bred in Ladymist who have weathered more than thirteen winters. One of these will be designated Sergeant and this Watchman will be of no less than twenty winters. All in the squad shall bear their badge, an oak hafted iron hand axe with the dragon of Ladymist etched into the blade.
Each Watchman shall have cold iron shackles for prisoners and a leather cord so’s to wrap the shackle’s key around his or her neck.
During night hours two members of the squad shall carry lit torches along with three extra as designated by the Sergeant.”
I only read two walls, didn’t want to seem like some Fairy Maiden away from the grove for the first time.
New members of the watch are called Maidens until it is decided that their Maidenhood is gone. Maidens are mostly put on all night patrols, walking the city streets in the cold, stomping to regain feeling in our toes.
We gather near Watch Hall, the frozen falls were reflecting the moonlight as the Sergeant made sure we all were properly outfitted for the cold.
“Maiden, take the other torch. Maiden, I don’t have all day, damn Tiamat’s sixth head, I didn’t get a deaf one, did I?”
The other Watchmen chuckle
Oh, by Maiden he means me. Right.
“Sorry, Sergeant, I…just, I’ll take the torch, Sergeant,” I’m such a tool.
Holding the torch is like some kind of honor. Right? The other torchbearer the biggest person I’ve ever seen outside of the Half-Orc ghetto.
The Sergeant hadn’t shaved and his tabard smelled like beer and cheese but when he spoke the others jumped. He even had an old battered sword at his hip. As we get into formation I picture ole Sarge in the future, sitting with me at the bar where all of the Lady’s Watchmen meet. Just me and Sarge, sitting in the Barracks Pub, sipping ale and swapping tales.
“Maiden!”
“Yes sir, Sarge, Sergeant, sir?”
“Stay focused, you was wondering on me.”
“Sure thing, Sergeant.”
I stand up straighter, trying to seem more focused, when I hear a woman’s scream, “Troll!" Troll in the streets!”
She runs right into me, her head against my chain mailed chest.
There’s two of them standing in the streets, walking down like they were about to go to market. We approached slowly, Sarge’s breath misting in the cold night air. One of them flinches at the firelight.
Sarge sneers, “We can do this lotsa ways. Put on the shackles willingly. I knows you can break ‘em. We’ll take you down to the Watch Hall and sort this out.”
Words seem to be difficult on the Troll’s tongue, “Horde Law. Three. We two. Here to see Green Lady.”
Sarge shakes his head and laughs, right in their big faces, “I know the damned Law, but you’s Trolls fer Dragon’s sake. Need to just check everything out is all.”
With one hand I take the shackles out and put them on her.
Her. Oh, the Trolls are girls, young women about my age. They are women.
I shackle the Troll girl. The words Troll Maiden fall through my head for some reason. I adjust the grip on the torch so that the fire isn’t so close to her. I can tell it bothers her.
“Fire hurts,” she explains as the shackles click into place.
“Hurts us too,” I smile.
“Nothing hurts us,” nothing sounds like no-ting, “Only burn juice and fire.”
I reply, “You good, fire away,” talking like that is fun.
“Me good,” she smiles and her teeth look sharp volcanic rock broken in her mouth.
Sarge turns on me, “Maiden, if you want to buy her a drink, do it on your own time. Now we escort the prisoners to the pit.”
She shakes her head, “You maiden? So hard tell.”
Sarge shoots me a look like a Red Dragon’s breath. I keep my mouth shut and escort the Troll Maid-, the prisoner.
Now, the Hanged Man...
It was a beauty of a night in the Lady. The waterfall was frozen solid but it was getting warm. Water trickled down into the gutters. The air was crisp and cool. Ya could wear your woolens but no one’d be losing toes or fingers like on some nights. Beauty of a night.
In all of my years I’ve never seen anything like that night. Trolls walking the Mason Step in the evening. They were just walking the streets, happy as you please, sharp claws scratching the ground as they went. Sure they’re females but Troll women-folk are even stronger than the men, you see.
S’true, they’re fiercer fighters too. Grandpa fought them when they laid siege to the Lady. He fought in the war and helped form the Horde Law back in the day, when Orcs and such were coming in out of the cold, begging the Duke for sanctuary.
He told me stories, how you can chop their arms off and they can just re-attach them or fight without them just to go for them later. The arms can even fight alone, choking an enemy to death detached from the shoulder. Tough bastards…or bitches.
Ten years walking the cobblestone streets of the Lady, only got the Sergeant’s rank a year ago. Rank is more trouble than it is worth. Believe me. From where I’m hanging, I’d know.
Before the Watch I was talking to the man who was my Sergeant, back when I was a Maiden, “So, let me get this straight. The Duke dies a mysterious death. Young Duchess Alexia comes to power and a Green Dragon sits on the throne of the Jade Forest.”
“The Duchess still rules the Lady.”
“Riiight. I don’t understand why we need a beast in charge of our kingdom anyway. Humans are good enough for my family.”
“All great kingdoms are ruled by a Dragon or some such mythical beast. You speak treason into yer cups.”
“I speak what is in my heart. If a Dragon can’t cope with the contents of my meager word-hoard, so be it. Dusk is falling, old friend. Time to take up the axe and keep the streets safe.”
Had a Maiden on my watch. Kept an eye on the boy. Sometimes they start out like him, naïve and full of wonder. S’nice, keeps the old foge’s like me in check.
Then the Troll madness. Sure you’ve heard about that. It has gone around the city like a gossip plague. Maiden flirted with a Troll. Meant to tell him that slapping shackles on a Troll got him out of Maidenhood, on his first night too. Ah well, no telling him now.
We were escorting the Trolls to the pits, figure out what was what and the Hobbits showed up. They were riding dogs, if ye can believe it. One was particularly nasty, saying that he would have my demoted if I didn’t hand the seven-foot beasts over to him.
No way was I handing over such killers to Halflings, no way in all the Hells. Ladies they might be but they’d sure enough rip the meat from their little bones before too long.
The Hobbits are Green Heralds, you see, servants of the Green Dragon who sits in her lair at the bottom our fine city. I know a Dragon built the city. I know that well enough. Still, I refused to hand the prisoners over and the little man got all red in the face.
Then the Green Knight showed up. A knight, Half-Orc, a woman…a knight. Maybe I’m old-fashioned…****e. My grandpa’s howling in his urn, he is. She had two other Trolls with her. Two MORE Trolls, I say.
The Halfling and I exchanged more words. I ain’t sure which one it was I was yelling back at. He threatened to have me demoted and such. Bugger him, I say. I told him just what I thought of him and his Green Lady.
One of the Hobbits, who tells stories in Draconic to the Wizards, I hear, showed a magick. He summoned a beast to keep the Trolls in line. ‘Tween the Hobbit-Sorcerer and the Half-Orc I reckoned they had enough muscle to keep two Trolls in line.
Damn me.
Lady M’Randa made her mark on the receipt and that was that. End of a hectic night and all’s well in my sweet Ladymist.
The Duchess’ Palace Guard showed up a few hours later. When I was yelling at the Hobbit I said things. I can remember it. Said it in front of a Half-Orc Knight, you see. She didn’t hear an argument. She heard treason. Apparently, I threw around the word, “monster” in relation to our just Draconic ruler.
I was taken to oak square, used to be lined with Oaks in my Grandpa’s day. Orcs and Goblins used most of the Oaks to make siege engines when they took this step, you see. Only one oak tree left, I’d know.
They tried to hang me from the lower branches and the first time the branch broke. I think I broke my ankle. The pain snapped me out of it. I began ranting about the justice of the Green Lady and such.
Then they found a stronger branch, threw the noose over it and I died with a snap.
Maidens and the Hanged Man
Chapter V
First, the Maidens...
Tonight is my first night walking with the Lady’s Watch. I read the by-laws this afternoon, written on the Watch Hall walls:
“A squad in the Lady’s Watch is made up of five able-bodied folk, born and bred in Ladymist who have weathered more than thirteen winters. One of these will be designated Sergeant and this Watchman will be of no less than twenty winters. All in the squad shall bear their badge, an oak hafted iron hand axe with the dragon of Ladymist etched into the blade.
Each Watchman shall have cold iron shackles for prisoners and a leather cord so’s to wrap the shackle’s key around his or her neck.
During night hours two members of the squad shall carry lit torches along with three extra as designated by the Sergeant.”
I only read two walls, didn’t want to seem like some Fairy Maiden away from the grove for the first time.
New members of the watch are called Maidens until it is decided that their Maidenhood is gone. Maidens are mostly put on all night patrols, walking the city streets in the cold, stomping to regain feeling in our toes.
We gather near Watch Hall, the frozen falls were reflecting the moonlight as the Sergeant made sure we all were properly outfitted for the cold.
“Maiden, take the other torch. Maiden, I don’t have all day, damn Tiamat’s sixth head, I didn’t get a deaf one, did I?”
The other Watchmen chuckle
Oh, by Maiden he means me. Right.
“Sorry, Sergeant, I…just, I’ll take the torch, Sergeant,” I’m such a tool.
Holding the torch is like some kind of honor. Right? The other torchbearer the biggest person I’ve ever seen outside of the Half-Orc ghetto.
The Sergeant hadn’t shaved and his tabard smelled like beer and cheese but when he spoke the others jumped. He even had an old battered sword at his hip. As we get into formation I picture ole Sarge in the future, sitting with me at the bar where all of the Lady’s Watchmen meet. Just me and Sarge, sitting in the Barracks Pub, sipping ale and swapping tales.
“Maiden!”
“Yes sir, Sarge, Sergeant, sir?”
“Stay focused, you was wondering on me.”
“Sure thing, Sergeant.”
I stand up straighter, trying to seem more focused, when I hear a woman’s scream, “Troll!" Troll in the streets!”
She runs right into me, her head against my chain mailed chest.
There’s two of them standing in the streets, walking down like they were about to go to market. We approached slowly, Sarge’s breath misting in the cold night air. One of them flinches at the firelight.
Sarge sneers, “We can do this lotsa ways. Put on the shackles willingly. I knows you can break ‘em. We’ll take you down to the Watch Hall and sort this out.”
Words seem to be difficult on the Troll’s tongue, “Horde Law. Three. We two. Here to see Green Lady.”
Sarge shakes his head and laughs, right in their big faces, “I know the damned Law, but you’s Trolls fer Dragon’s sake. Need to just check everything out is all.”
With one hand I take the shackles out and put them on her.
Her. Oh, the Trolls are girls, young women about my age. They are women.
I shackle the Troll girl. The words Troll Maiden fall through my head for some reason. I adjust the grip on the torch so that the fire isn’t so close to her. I can tell it bothers her.
“Fire hurts,” she explains as the shackles click into place.
“Hurts us too,” I smile.
“Nothing hurts us,” nothing sounds like no-ting, “Only burn juice and fire.”
I reply, “You good, fire away,” talking like that is fun.
“Me good,” she smiles and her teeth look sharp volcanic rock broken in her mouth.
Sarge turns on me, “Maiden, if you want to buy her a drink, do it on your own time. Now we escort the prisoners to the pit.”
She shakes her head, “You maiden? So hard tell.”
Sarge shoots me a look like a Red Dragon’s breath. I keep my mouth shut and escort the Troll Maid-, the prisoner.
Now, the Hanged Man...
It was a beauty of a night in the Lady. The waterfall was frozen solid but it was getting warm. Water trickled down into the gutters. The air was crisp and cool. Ya could wear your woolens but no one’d be losing toes or fingers like on some nights. Beauty of a night.
In all of my years I’ve never seen anything like that night. Trolls walking the Mason Step in the evening. They were just walking the streets, happy as you please, sharp claws scratching the ground as they went. Sure they’re females but Troll women-folk are even stronger than the men, you see.
S’true, they’re fiercer fighters too. Grandpa fought them when they laid siege to the Lady. He fought in the war and helped form the Horde Law back in the day, when Orcs and such were coming in out of the cold, begging the Duke for sanctuary.
He told me stories, how you can chop their arms off and they can just re-attach them or fight without them just to go for them later. The arms can even fight alone, choking an enemy to death detached from the shoulder. Tough bastards…or bitches.
Ten years walking the cobblestone streets of the Lady, only got the Sergeant’s rank a year ago. Rank is more trouble than it is worth. Believe me. From where I’m hanging, I’d know.
Before the Watch I was talking to the man who was my Sergeant, back when I was a Maiden, “So, let me get this straight. The Duke dies a mysterious death. Young Duchess Alexia comes to power and a Green Dragon sits on the throne of the Jade Forest.”
“The Duchess still rules the Lady.”
“Riiight. I don’t understand why we need a beast in charge of our kingdom anyway. Humans are good enough for my family.”
“All great kingdoms are ruled by a Dragon or some such mythical beast. You speak treason into yer cups.”
“I speak what is in my heart. If a Dragon can’t cope with the contents of my meager word-hoard, so be it. Dusk is falling, old friend. Time to take up the axe and keep the streets safe.”
Had a Maiden on my watch. Kept an eye on the boy. Sometimes they start out like him, naïve and full of wonder. S’nice, keeps the old foge’s like me in check.
Then the Troll madness. Sure you’ve heard about that. It has gone around the city like a gossip plague. Maiden flirted with a Troll. Meant to tell him that slapping shackles on a Troll got him out of Maidenhood, on his first night too. Ah well, no telling him now.
We were escorting the Trolls to the pits, figure out what was what and the Hobbits showed up. They were riding dogs, if ye can believe it. One was particularly nasty, saying that he would have my demoted if I didn’t hand the seven-foot beasts over to him.
No way was I handing over such killers to Halflings, no way in all the Hells. Ladies they might be but they’d sure enough rip the meat from their little bones before too long.
The Hobbits are Green Heralds, you see, servants of the Green Dragon who sits in her lair at the bottom our fine city. I know a Dragon built the city. I know that well enough. Still, I refused to hand the prisoners over and the little man got all red in the face.
Then the Green Knight showed up. A knight, Half-Orc, a woman…a knight. Maybe I’m old-fashioned…****e. My grandpa’s howling in his urn, he is. She had two other Trolls with her. Two MORE Trolls, I say.
The Halfling and I exchanged more words. I ain’t sure which one it was I was yelling back at. He threatened to have me demoted and such. Bugger him, I say. I told him just what I thought of him and his Green Lady.
One of the Hobbits, who tells stories in Draconic to the Wizards, I hear, showed a magick. He summoned a beast to keep the Trolls in line. ‘Tween the Hobbit-Sorcerer and the Half-Orc I reckoned they had enough muscle to keep two Trolls in line.
Damn me.
Lady M’Randa made her mark on the receipt and that was that. End of a hectic night and all’s well in my sweet Ladymist.
The Duchess’ Palace Guard showed up a few hours later. When I was yelling at the Hobbit I said things. I can remember it. Said it in front of a Half-Orc Knight, you see. She didn’t hear an argument. She heard treason. Apparently, I threw around the word, “monster” in relation to our just Draconic ruler.
I was taken to oak square, used to be lined with Oaks in my Grandpa’s day. Orcs and Goblins used most of the Oaks to make siege engines when they took this step, you see. Only one oak tree left, I’d know.
They tried to hang me from the lower branches and the first time the branch broke. I think I broke my ankle. The pain snapped me out of it. I began ranting about the justice of the Green Lady and such.
Then they found a stronger branch, threw the noose over it and I died with a snap.
