Section Two: His Majesty's Decree
Falco leaned back against the front of the tavern, watching the crowd with sharp eyes. Their glances back at him were suspicious; they knew him as a thief and ruffian. Just fine with him, at least they had gotten something right.
Glancing up, he noticed that the older form of Peppy Hare was still at one of the windows, watching the square. He had been there quite some time. He was waiting for something.
Falco shrugged to himself, gaze returning to the crowd. The entire city was tense, and many men were joining the king's army. One had even asked if HE was going to. Heh, when pigs fly, mused Falco. It wasn't that he didn't know how to fight—it was one of the things he was good at—he just didn't like the terms. Die for his King and Country? What fun was there in that? Or money, for that matter, he added. Soldiers made little money, after all.
"Busy day."
He looked, and saw he had been joined by a young frog. The blacksmith's son, whom he had known a while. The two got along, but didn't socialize much. Slippy Toad was short, stocky but not fat, and had some decent muscle—had to, in the line of work he was apprenticing for.
"Yeah, busy day." Falco agreed blandly.
"What do you think about the princess being kidnapped?"
"I think we're lucky we didn't get arrested." He glared at a passing guard. "King was stark raving mad."
"Don't say that, they'll hear you."
"Oh, what can they do? I've spent some time in jail. They know not to mess with me." Falco's eyes roved the crowd, and noticed the people parting for a figure in horseback.
The horse wore expensive tack, and the rider seemed to match. He wore a cloak, but Falco could see the impression of armor and weaponry under it. The rider himself was a fox, about Falco's age, with serious blue eyes and an aura of calm around him.
Peppy had disappeared from the window, and appeared on the street, striding to meet the rider. The two exchanged greetings, then Peppy collected his horse and mounted, riding alongside the new arrival. Peppy himself wore clothes fit to a lord, as well as a broadsword.
"What do you think?" Slippy asked, eyes also locked on the two riders as they passed.
"Damned if I know. Let's trail along and find out. They're heading for the castle."
"So what are you planning on doing?" Peppy looked over at Fox.
"I was planning on offering my services to the King. I doubt that the Head Guard would listen, and I suspect the Generals are already fighting." Fox replied, working his fingers in his gloves.
"If you want in the army and arrive like you are, the Head Guard will want to test you, and the King's still raging. For all I know he'll sentence you to beheading on the spot for being, ah, uppity."
Fox smiled a little.
Two guards stopped them at the gates. "What's your reason to be here?"
"I'm here to offer my services to the King as a soldier." Fox replied simply.
The pair looked at Peppy. "Your ward, Sir Hare?"
"Not hardly. McCloud's son."
The guards looked at each other, clearly at a dilemma. "We'll take you to the Head Guard, and if he approves, you can go before the king."
"Fine, then."
One of the guards led the pair to a stable. "Dismount." Fox did easily, Peppy with a little more stiffness from his age.
"What in God's name kind of armor is that?" Asked a new voice, and the Head Guard came out of the stable.
Fox glanced down, and realized a thin slice of his armor could be seen. He shrugged and tossed back the cloak, letting the Head Guard get a better look.
"Interesting. Come to offer your services, hmm? What are you a mercenary?"
"No sir."
"Then what are you?"
Fox paused. He wasn't entirely sure how to answer. Before, he could have just said 'a woodsman' and be done with it, but now… He sighed. "A civilian soldier sir."
"A mercenary." The Head Guard grunted, looking vaguely disgusted. "We don't need your kind here."
"I'm not a mercenary. I came to serve the King and fight as one of his soldiers." Fox drew himself up. Peppy began to move as if to silence him, but stopped and stepped back. "If you don't believe I can do this, test me, by all means."
"If you insist." The Head Guard drew his sword and swung easily, looking bored. He looked surprised when his blade was immediately intercepted and deflected away.
"Don't assume so much that I am not experienced." Fox tossed the cloak over his saddle, and stepped into a ready position. He was using the broadsword, but the Katana was also in its scabbard and in easy reach. His stance was easy, tail waving slightly. "Attack me."
The head guard, confused, did so, and his sword immediately turned away. Fox responded on instinct but prevented what he knew would be a killing blow, instead sweeping his opponent's feet out from under him and touching his sword's tip to the Head Guard's neck.
"All respect to you good sir, but is there someone more experienced I could face?" Fox asked, smiling a little.
The Head Guard, stunned, brushed the sword away and stood. "I'll take you to the King."
"What in God's name is the meaning of this, pray tell?" The King asked, glaring at the Head Guard.
Fox had put his cloak back on, covering his armor. Even though he hadn't been bid to, he had gone down on one knee and bowed his head.
"A mercenary, your Majesty." The Head Guard looked nervous.
Fox didn't bother to correct him, merely maintaining his position.
"Indeed. And what would I want with a mercenary? I have plenty of soldiers, soldiers who truly serve me, and not a day's wages." The King's harsh gaze turned on Fox, who didn't twitch, eyes downcast. "A respectful mercenary in any respect." He turned to Peppy. "Hare, what do you have to do with this, pray tell?" His tone gentled a little, he knew Peppy from years before.
"The so-called mercenary before you is McCloud's son."
"Indeed." The King sat back and pressed his fingertips together. "That makes it all the more interesting. Rise, young man."
Fox slowly did, eyes still downcast, hands at his sides.
"If you want to fight for me, why not just join the city's Militia, or the Infantry?"
He considered, then said carefully, "Because my skills are not that of an Infantryman, your Majesty."
"He speaks the truth." The Head Guard admitted.
"Hmm. So you're saying it's beneath you?" The King narrowed his eyes.
"No, your Majesty, I am saying I would be more useful elsewhere."
"Hmm." He looked at Peppy, then back to Fox. "I note you carry two swords. Should I take that to mean you can fight with two weapons at once?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"I recognize those swords. Your father came back with one when he returned from the Crusades. The other was issued to him when he was knighted." The King's look was thoughtful. "I believe you are trying to follow in your father's footsteps, aren't you?" When he didn't get a reply, he continued. "Well then. Come back at nightfall, and I will issue a decision."
Fox and Peppy both bowed, and left the throne room.
"There they are." Falco said. He was looking through the gate. The guards still hadn't returned to their posts. "Come on, let's eavesdrop, shall we?" He slipped through the open gate.
"Falco, if we're caught…" Slippy muttered.
"Relax, escape is my bread and butter."
"Humph."
"What do you think?" Peppy asked.
Fox was crouched, wrists resting on knees. "He might let me in. Might not."
"And if he doesn't?"
He smiled a little and stood. "I have other plans."
"Your father really taught you two-sword fighting?"
"Yes indeed." Fox undid his cloak and set it over a fence post, rolling his shoulders. He wasn't used to wearing the armor yet. It was lighter then normal armor a knight would wear, but it was still a bit awkward to him. He settled his hands over both hilts absently, then drew the katana slowly.
The blade of the sword flashed a rainbow of the colors as the waning sunlight hit it, seeming to glow. He twirled it one-handed absently, then fell into a series of practice moves.
"What in God's name kind of sword is that?" Falco hissed to Slippy, watching the blade, almost drooling. He knew from experience how to tell if something was valuable or not, and knew that the katana had to be worth a fortune.
"It's a Katana, an oriental sword. The metal is folded over a thousand times. Incredibly strong. My father told me about them." Slippy replied, more interested in the workmanship then in the worth. "And it looks to me like it's been enchanted. If I could get closer, I MIGHT be able to tell you how exactly it's been enchanted."
"Well then." Falco was practiced in this sort of thing, and got Slippy closer to the point he was only ten feet away from where Fox was practicing.
Slippy squinted, pulling a small handful of glistening powder from a belt pouch and blowing it into the air. It swirled and dispersed, but was clearly going towards the young fox and the sword.
Fox felt magic leap through the air, and reacted instantly, lunging to his left and swinging. The woodpile tumbled down, revealing two figures about his age. He sighed and sheathed the glowing Katana, settling his hands to his hips. "Peppy, do you know these two?"
"Slippy is the shorter one. Blacksmith's apprentice." Peppy walked over.
"And the other?"
"Falco. Local thief."
"Well, that might explain what I just felt." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So. You were trying to analyze the enchantment on my sword, correct?" He looked at Slippy. "And you asked him to do so because you wanted to know how much it was worth." He looked at Falco.
"Good guesses." Slippy muttered. "Sir Hare, who is your companion?"
"This is Fox McCloud. James McCloud's son."
"Wait a moment, here. James McCloud as in the Knight? Local legend?" Falco asked, lifting both eyebrows.
"Yes."
Falco eyed Fox. "Explains why he can use a sword so well."
Fox eyed him back. "Exactly. Thus why only a born fool would try to steal my sword."
The falcon laughed and clapped his hands together. "I've managed to steal many things most would call me a fool for stealing."
"And you still have both your hands? I'm impressed."
"He's good at what he does, or so I've heard." Peppy said, eyes narrowed at the scruffy avian, who looked back innocently. "The whole town knows what he does for a living, but no one has caught him in the act."
"An innocent thief is a living thief, old man." Falco grunted, then looked at Fox. "So. Trying to become a Knight yourself? Hah, miserable job. Good luck."
"No. Merely trying to get permission to fight." Fox kept his voice cool.
"Why in God's name do you want to?"
"That would be my business." He walked a few yards away, working his arms back and forth a bit.
Falco didn't push. Actually he rather respected Fox, even if he had decided that this new acquaintance was choosing the wrong profession.
A guard appeared. "Sir McCloud, the King has made a decision."
"I admit, young man, that I thought about it hard." The King said, looking at Fox, who was kneeling again. "However, I shall have to decline your services."
Fox wasn't surprised, but stayed reserved and showed no reaction to this.
"Rise." Once Fox had, the King continued. "The way I see this, you have no true loyalty. You, young man, are a mercenary. You have no honor. And as for your father… he died guilty of an unforgivable crime, not as one of my Knights. Leave my presence."
Fox jerked back, like he had been slapped. "Your Majesty, I…"
"I said, leave me."
Having no choice, he left, scorned and angry.