Chapter 6: Rattled Saber

As Saber marched through the streets of Bowerstone, he resolved once more to leave Oakvale far in his past. Every time he traveled there, he seemed to return with more unhappy memories. This last visit was no different.

He'd gone this time to find Lady Grey's missing necklace. Thanks to the information he'd turned up, it had been successfully recovered. How those two had swiped it in the first place still mystified him. To call Percy and Lars numbskulls would be to give true numbskulls a bad name; a more witless pair of idiots he hoped never to see.

However, he had to admit, that very fact had played to his favor as he had crept up and eavesdropped upon them. Then, it had been a simple matter of acquiring a shovel and digging at the designated location to retrieve the stolen jewelry.

He had, however, expected to run across her. Sophia Ednow had stepped back into his life, and in so doing, had very much complicated matters. Granted, she had possessed the critical bit of information that had cracked the case. However, that in itself contributed to his turmoil.

Their luncheon in the pub had ground upon him as he had recalled his last meeting there, with Whisper. If he closed his eyes, he could still taste the salty mix of sweat and dust from the Arena. He could feel the weight of his sword, raised high in the air. He could hear the jeers and shouts of the crowd, along with the desperate pleading of the woman on the ground before him as she begged for her life. He would not have been shocked to open his eyes to see the eerie mask of Jack of Blades as he rested a hand on a large sum of gold and promised it to Saber if he would but end Whisper's miserable little life.

And he could remember the war that had unexpectedly begun in his soul. On the one side, his familiar, old nature stood, pointing to the money and reminding the warrior of the problems Whispers had caused him over the years.

On the other stood Sophia. Despite his best efforts to ignore the image, the Hero had not been able to get away from the conclusion that while sparing her might not be the smartest choice, it was surely the right one.

His decision made, he had brought his sword down. But it had not spilled Whisper's blood to stain the floor of the Arena. Instead, the blade rang quietly as it slid into the sheath on his back. No one present had been more shocked that Saber himself. Not trusting his voice, he had silently turned from his former rival and walked off to the cells.

Business had brought him to Oakvale the following week. His stomach had brought him to the tavern. An hour later, Whisper was bidding him a fond farewell and boarding the ship that would carry her from Albion's shores forever…

Saber was startled back to the present by a laborer who was only just able to get out of the way. The warrior spied the Ednow Traders crest sealing the crate in the laborer's arms and scowled. Sophia's influence still haunted him. He'd planned to complete his task in Oakvale, then leave directly via Cullis Gate; Sophia's plea had so appealed to his sense of curiosity that the original plan had become impossible to carry out.

So he'd sought this Rhodri and had spoken with him as asked. To say Rhodri was mourning was a gross understatement. He was clearly pining for his lost beloved, something that had never sat well with the Hero. Saber had been prepared to dismiss the young man's claims outright, but something in the mourner's words resisted such treatment. While there had been some negative remarks made about Elvira Grey, it had been Rhodri's description of Amanda that had reached from one Oakvale man to the other.

The character described was everything Saber had long argued a ruler should be. And yet, an egalitarian guardian of the hard-working poor wasn't the aspect that had best connected with the Hero. Rhodri's love had shone through his comments in a way that Saber knew he himself had once felt for Sophia.

Now, on the streets of Bowerstone, the conflict started by all this still raged within the warrior as he neared the Mayoral estate. A sense of unease began to rise in his heart as he rounded the corner and entered the courtyard.

But Lady Grey was absent. A feeling of almost-relief swept through him. Then, like a joke from the cruel hand of fate, she emerged and called out to him. "Hello, my darling. I do hope that you finally managed to finish that simple task I gave you. I would hate to think that you didn't love me enough to make this your top priority."

He smirked as he produced the necklace. "Have no fear, milady. The greatest of Heroes has come to your aid."

"Oh, thank you, my dear. You are proving quite worthy of my continued attention. However, you are not the only Arena winner contending for my hand. Thunder still makes his advances toward me. While quite flattering, I do find it all rather bewildering that two such powerful men would both be interested in me." She had meandered toward one of the nearby garden topiaries as she spoke, but now turned to face Saber; the vaguely sinister gleam in her eye transformed his unease into full-on dread. "If you two could somehow settle this – say, in a battle – the answer would be much clearer to me."

She inclined her head and continued in an imperious tone, "Go; find Thunder. The victor shall receive my hand."

Though her mouth closed, Saber could almost hear Jack of Blades finishing the thought. The loser shall have the privilege of dying before you.

Suppressing a shudder, he bowed and left.

The barmaid placed the drink on the table and hurried off to take orders from some new arrivals. Saber glanced briefly at the new beverage before draining the last swallow from the one in his hand. He'd told the bartender to keep them coming, but a third drink right now might not be the wisest course. After all, his purpose for being here was not to get drunk, but to think. As he sat here, looking out at the streets of Bowerstone South, he found he had much to think about.

Four hours ago, Lady Grey had all but told him to kill Thunder.

Saber scowled. Thunder had antagonized him for years. And the strongman had plenty of reasons to hate the warrior from Oakvale now in turn. Furthermore, his threat that new blood would spill like any other hadn't been exactly subtle. So there was no shortage of motive for them to fight.

However, it was not Thunder who had prompted the trip to the tavern. Instead, it was Elvira Grey and her order that caused the Hero such misgivings.

Her purpose was clear enough. One need not be particularly scholarly, or even all that bright, to realize that she was trying to ensure that she was with the most powerful Hero. And yet, it was this very action that was causing him anguish.

He found himself, as had been occurring recently with alarming frequency, comparing Elvira with Sophia. Sophia would never – HAD never required such a demonstration of superiority.

Oh, certainly, in the beginning, it had been strictly business; but there had been a spark of attraction that had made the transaction a bit more enjoyable. That relationship had blossomed on its own, with no demands for gifts, favors, or shows of wealth, cunning, or skill.

She had simply accepted him as he was.

Saber pushed through to those memories, painful though the process was. Looking back, he could see that she had always taken the bad with the good, reaching to that good to draw it out. It hadn't been for her own gain; she had simply seen a better person in him.

So how was it that Sophia and Elvira were so different? Both had been raised in the high society of Bowerstone North. Why was one so shallow and cold, while the other was (though his ego was loath to admit it) warm and caring?

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Lady Grey had not fallen from grace as Sophia had. Perhaps-

A large, brawny hand seized Saber's shoulder and jerked him around. He found himself staring back at Thunder.

The older Hero sneered. "So, you are the pretender attempting to steal the Lady's favor. Well, no farmboy will get in my way."

His fist drew back a fraction, then stopped. Saber followed his gaze off to the side and saw Horace, one of the sterner guards who patrolled the streets. He'd asked the bartender for an apple and now leaning against the bar, eating and pointedly looking in the general direction of the two Heroes.

Thunder leaned close. "If you are man enough, meet me at the executioner's block at the top of Headsman's Hill. I can think of no better place to kill you."

Years of insults and degradation edged past Saber's earlier doubts. He stood and returned Thunder's fiery glare. "Name the time."