The Green Lantern

The peeling door that announced Dapper Dan's Hot Dogs fooled no one who knew anything about the city. The door wasn't even left unlock most of the time, because anyone who would be served at the restaurant went through the back door anyway. The back door was painted green and in discrete letters decreed the establishment to be The Green Lantern. I personally hated the place, it attracted people who I didn't really want to be associated with. However when Bryan invites me somewhere I go, I don't see him often and he isn't able to just walk around town. This unfortunately also means that his ideas of a good meeting place are places like the Wabash Street Caves or this particular underworld hangout.

I have been to The Green Lantern before, don't get me wrong, I am well accepted there. That doesn't however mean that I like it any more. There are some people who walk into The Green Lantern and are instantly shot at, for no good reason other than that they are simply not liked. I heard about a guy who worked for a fixer who tried to come with his girlfriend to show off and they barely made it through the door before they were forced to hit the floor because of bullets. A lot of it is out of town people establishing a reputation by showing off, but that doesn't make it any safer.

Byran was already there when I arrived, sitting at a small table at the back of the dingy bar. I sat down at his table and looked around cautiously, though mostly it was out of habit. Bryan had let his suit jacket fall open now that he was comfortable, and besides he was as much of a showoff as anyone else there, and his shoulder holster was visible. That would tell anyone who did want to mess with us to keep their distance. Looking around I could see more shoulder holsters displayed, and in a couple of cases there was the hint of a revolver in a purse at tables where women were sitting. Some of the gangster molls are pretty but I know better then to even look at them twice, most of them have men at their shoulders ready to blow the head off of anyone they suspect with intentions.

“Why do we have to meet here?” I complained, turning back to Bryan.

“Can you think of a better place to meet, it's the only place I can think of where we can both sit and neither of us have to worry,” Bryan said, shrugging.

“I'm a respectable member of society, you forget. Do you know what it looks like for me to be seen here? The whole city knows what this place is,” I pointed out. I knew it wouldn't make a difference to him but I still felt that I should argue my point. I know Bryan pretty well, I mean we grew up together, I know him well enough to know that he won't listen to a word I say once he's made up his mind about something.

“You're way too modest. I know for a fact that most of the guys in here owe you favors and you're friends with most of the cops. No one is going to give you a hard time, and anyway, even if they did you would just have to come to me and I would take care of them for you,” Bran tapped a finger on the handle of his gun.

“Give it a rest, you know what I think of you showing off,” I snapped. Bryan just smiled at me, my humility had always stuck him as funny more than anything else, and I had long since stopped trying to seriously convert him to my way of thinking. It was probably just as well, you had to be cocky to be a good gangster, and Bryan was considered a big shot. “Anyway, stop calling me every time you need help, I'm a bondsman, not a fixer.”

“Can I help it that you've got connections,” Bryan said, brushing off yet another of my complaints in his casual way. It was one of the ways that our friendship continued to be firm, most people would grow annoyed with my whining but Bryan had a nonchalance that insulated him.

To be continued...

The Traitor's Command V

Now Micheal was unsure how to proceed. If he went over to the enemy side then his possessions would be safe, but he could not be sure that they would accept him if they found out he was an exile. If things went really badly he might even be sentenced to death for being twice a traitor. On the other hand the castle was likely to fall, no matter what he did and no matter how hard he fought or what he did that was almost a certainty. If the castle did fall then he would die with equal certainty. Turning the paper over and using a stick of charcoal from the fire to write, he quickly penned a response and dropped the blunt arrow back into the enemy below with his letter attached.

There was some risk to sending messages back and forth with the enemy Micheal knew, but it was a calculated risk. His men were tired after a long day of repeated attacks, they were unlikely to wake up and even if they did, they were unlikely to pay attention to what he was doing. It was still dark and everything had died down so people on other parts of the wall were also unlikely to notice what he was doing. What was far more important was the assurance that was shot back over the wall, on a fresh piece of paper. The commander of the enemy, or now his ally army, swore to God that Micheal would be under his protection, a part of the army and not killed. Micheal very calmly set to work quietly disassembling all of the defense engines he had built, they might now be used against him. When a rope and grapple hit the wall, instead of cutting it, Micheal made sure it was firmly connected to the wall, and then climbed down it with the sack of his possessions over his shoulder.

Micheal showed the men at the bottom of the wall the notes he had received from the arrow messages and they took him to his new leader. Micheal recognized the man in the tent instantly, it was a lord who was a great favorite at court and had been a friend of his father's right up until his father had become open about his plans. Lord Grayham was well known to be wiser than his age would suggest and a cruel tactician. Micheal now felt no shame in knowing that he had admitted he could not beat the enemy.

“Treven's son aren't you?” Lord Grayham asked, once he had dismissed the guard and they were alone in his tent. “I thought I recognized some of the tactics, and the machines of course. He showed me the drawings, saying that they were for protecting the king. I could have just killed you, but since I figured it was you I thought I would just invite you. This is the better way and besides,” here Lord Grayham made a motion with his hand, “I wanted to see this personally.”

Micheal had just enough time to turn and see the man with the sword rush from hiding. He felt himself stabbed but then all feeling left and he fell to the floor of the tent, surrounded by blood he was shocked to think of as his. Lord Grayham came to stand over him.

“I wanted to make sure you got what you deserved, three times a traitor. A traitor by blood, a traitor to our country, fighting for our enemies; and lastly a traitor to the people who trusted you to serve their country. Had you served them maybe you would have lived.” It seemed to cruel to Micheal, in his last thoughts, that the last words he would ever hear were the flinty words of Lord Grayham.

The Traitor's Command IV

“I know that things don't look too good but I'm here to help us win,” Micheal announced, as he threw down his pack. It was hardly an inspiring speech, but it did seem to work for a time, if only because the men knew that there was now someone in charge of them. They did their rounds, stood of straighter, and talked about what they would do to the enemy. The enemy never came to them however, and soon the men sank back into their former habits of sloth. Micheal couldn't blame them since he felt the same way, he had been excited for the chance to be in charge but now that he was, he could do nothing so long as the enemy ignored their corner.
Micheal would never know what tactician on the enemy side finally did point out his corner as a place that they could attack but he would forever be grateful. His men were thrown into disarray the first time ladders actually showed over their segment of wall, but the battlements were tall enough that they had time to collect themselves and repel the men from the top. Once they had been attacked once, everything changed. Micheal's men were now careful while they walked, and the enemy attacked more often. It was as if they hadn't existed before, but now they had been highlights as a focal point of the war. Micheal kept expecting the commander to remove him from his command since the spot had become so important but the commander either decided that he had deserved it or simply decided he had too much to do to worry about such a little picture task.
Micheal put all of his ideas into use, oil was boiled, saws were made to cut the rope so swords weren't dulled. Big rocks were found that could be dropped on any invader stupid enough to stand beneath the wall for long enough that the rocks could be aimed. Then Micheal turned to machinery and every siege engine his father had ever thought of lined his tiny section of wall, pointing both south and west. Some of them proved to work better in theory than in real life but those were taken apart and turned into something else. Micheal even started to make his own ideas for what new ways he could throw things on his former countrymen.
It was late at night when the arrow shot through the sky and landed on the stones of the south west corner. Most of the men were sleeping, it was a lull in the fight, Micheal was still up on the other hand. After the arrow landed Micheal realized how stupid he had been, had the enemy wanted to kill him it would have been easy, he had a torch burning right above his head. The enemy clearly did not want to kill him however, they had blunted the arrow. Instead of it being a weapon it was now a messenger and Micheal quickly tore the paper from the arrow before anyone woke up and questioned him about it. He didn't have to worry about any of the others reading it, he was the only literate, but it still might cause awkward questions.
It took Micheal some time to get past the flattery in the letter and get to the true content, he knew better than to think that the enemy thought that he was a great general. In any case it was all of the frills of the court, which Micheal had skipped in letters for as long as he could remember, even though it was considered bad manners. The point of the letter was that they were offering him a title and a portion of the land that they would take from his current lord, under the condition that he betrayed the lord's castle. The wording of the letter made it very clear that they had no idea who Micheal was and thought he was just another commander in the lord's hire.
To be continued...

The Traitor's Command III

“I offer my services to you, Sir.”
“For what?” asked the commander. He was a very busy man and very distracted, still it wasn't as bad a reception as he had thought he might get as a poor peasant bothering his betters.
“If it counts for anything I have combat experience and know tactics, I am willing to serve under you if you have any need for me. I am sorry I didn't come forward sooner but I wasn't sure how I would be received.” Now at least the commander was looking at Micheal.
“You know tactics?”
“I learned on my father's knee, exiled it is true, but I can't pretend that I didn't have the upbringing,” Micheal continued to bow, but from his place held up the ring on his finger. He knew that the crest on it was very clear in its origin, the decorations around it declared him to be from the now enemy nation. He spoke quickly now, knowing it was only a matter of time before the commander made his decision, and wanting to effect it as much as possible. “You can accuse me of being a spy, I thought of that, I am willing to risk it. I have lived here almost half of my life already, I am loyal to your side. I am an exile from the country I am from, the son of someone who tried overthrow their king. I promise you, I am not on the enemy's side.”
“You could have betrayed us any number of times, without us ever knowing you were here, you choose to reveal yourself. What worries me more is allowing someone I don't know take any sort of command of the few men I have at my disposal,” the commander said, leaning forward intensely. Micheal had the feeling that for a man who was leading the defense so poorly, that this was a very capable man, one who could see right through him. It was a relief to him that he had nothing to hide, he had told the truth.
“Give me command of anything, any task at all for that matter, let me prove myself,” Micheal said, responding to the commander's intensity with energy of his own. “Watch how I handle even the smallest job, and see for yourself if I overestimate my abilities, if nothing else you gain another soldier.”
“Take control of the southwest corner of the castle and the soldiers posted there,” the commander ordered and then turned to give orders to another man. Micheal straightened and turned away, disappointed for all of his words, that he had not been given a larger task. Out of any part of the castle the southern wall was the least often attacked, and to get a corner, the strongest part of the castle, was a further sign of mistrust. There was nothing Micheal could do about it and at least he now had something to do.
The castle armory had little for him to wear but Micheal made do with what he could find and beg. For the first time Micheal thought in longing of his father's armor, something that he had never thought of with any interest before. The heavy shield with their family crest was in particular an item to be desired now, it might save his life. Instead he was going to have to go with no shield at all and a helmet of inferior quality. He had pictured how he would look when he was a little boy, going off to his first command, he had always imagined that he would be a dashing figure, instead he looked like a beggar who had stopped at a blacksmith's.
The men of his command were not the brave soldiers he had envisioned as a child either. The south wall, with it's little attention from the enemy, seemed to be where they sent the men they didn't want on the front for one reason or another. From the first glance that Micheal got it seemed to mostly be age, too young, too old; or stupidity.
To be continued...

The Traitor's Command II

Now Micheal was working, even nobles worked in times of hardship he recalled, and this was certainly such a time. There was little food to be had in the kingdom now, with half of the farmers gone, and most of the grain going to the army. Had Micheal tried to live his former privileges he suspected that the people of the town he lived in would have risen up against him and denied him the little food there was to be had, everyone was having to pitch in.

Life was more difficult now, for everyone, but when the armies came marching across the border and into the area, Micheal knew that things were about to get harder yet. Again he was uprooted, and this time he was forced into close quarters, the entire town was crammed into the local lord's castle for protection. Micheal was able to find a place on the battlements where he sat on the few possessions that he had grabbed, mostly only the stuff he had brought from his life as a noble, and watched the town burn. There was a strange feeling of disconnection, everything that he was, everything that he was attached to was with him. The life that he had built for himself in the town was an empty shell for him and he was confident that he could create another so long as he kept what mattered.

It was only when the castle came under siege that Micheal started to worry, now his person was coming under threat and it seemed in legitimate danger. The lord of the castle was gone, as were a majority of the men at arms and knights who served under him, serving their king who had called on them for aid. That left the lady to defend the castle with the few men who were left to her and what men were to be had to fight from the village. It didn't help that she was young and inexperienced, never having even lived through a war before. This did not fill Micheal with confidence for his continued well being.

Micheal had gained an almost permanent place on the battlements and no one bothered him so long as he did not get in the way of the defenders who had little to do anyway. Without someone to take proper command they mostly stood around and only acted when they had to repel ladders. It was a sad sight for Micheal, who's head was full of his father's would be plans in case they were ever sieged during the rebellion. There could be hot oil, archers, machinery that could be set up, but that was only if they were led by someone who knew what they were doing. More then once Micheal wanted to step in and shout at them that they were doing the whole thing wrong but he knew better in his position. It was hard for him but he had to face the fact that he was not Sir Micheal, and they would not listen to a man from the village for advice on warfare. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to help defend the castle, except that he was in it, he still felt some loyalty to the country he had been raised in. His father had valued it after all, enough to want to take it as his own. Micheal might not have liked what his father had done but it did raise the country in his opinion to being something that mattered. If Micheal had thought he would be able to get away he would have tried to leave the country entirely, for one where he would not suffer such a conflict of interest.

Sleep came less and less for Micheal as the siege wore on and food started to run short. It was for this reason that he was up on the wall when the attackers made a late night sneak attack on the battlements, using ropes and ladders. The defenders, on watch for long hours because of their short numbers, were less then alert until Micheal raised the alarm. Once the last of the attackers had been fended off by the soldiers, Micheal realized that he had just chosen sides. It lit a fire inside him that had not been there in the past, before he had assumed they would not listen to him, so he hadn't tried speaking to them. With humility he never would have imagined he had, the family signet ring on his finger for the first time since their coat of arms was removed, Micheal approached and bowed before the captain of the guard.

To be continued...

The Traitor's Command

When first Micheal had been sentenced to exile, he had thought that he was cursed to wander the wilderness, he could not imagine a life away from court. Of course he had been young then, now he was older and better suited to his fate. Though he still cursed his traitorous father out of habit, Micheal had come accept that for him, the court would always be a thing of the past. It was a thing of half dreams for him now anyway, something he had not seen for a decade. He wouldn't be allowed at court now anyway, all of their lands and titles had become forfeit the moment that his father had been sentenced to death.

Exile was not as bad as it had sounded when Micheal had first heard it, a shaking boy, dragged before the king. He had taken the remains of their fortune, what he had been able to grab before having to leave his lands forever, and simply gone into the neighboring kingdom. It wasn't a capital like the one that he had grown up in, but it was still a reasonably sized town that he lived in, not the wilderness that he had imagined when he was fourteen. While he could no longer live as a noble he didn't have to work thanks to the money he had brought, and he spent his life in idleness, walking where he could and dreaming of how things had been in the past.

It was not the sport that Micheal missed, he had been a poor hunter and wrestler, in fact he was in better shape now that he went on his walks than he had ever been when a child. Instead he missed the texts that had been passed around the court in manuscript form and read aloud. Micheal knew that those were lost to him forever, the only way he would ever see a book again was to become a man of the church but he suspected it was sacrilege to join the cloth only to be able to read. Having been raised to be religious Micheal felt that one should only join the clergy if it was for a selfless desire to serve God.

Everything Micheal thought of to do with his time was dismissed in this fashion. He thought about opening a shop and starting a family, but it seemed like admitting that he was no longer a noble and even with all titles gone he could not bring himself to do so. He thought about joining a guild, but fraternizing with people of such lower upbringing seemed unlikely to give him pleasure. Micheal gained a reputation around the town for being aloof and mysterious, silent and withdrawn. He did nothing to change this opinion, enjoying his time alone with his thoughts.

Sometimes Micheal pictured in his mind the plans of his father, the maps with the pictures of what he would do in battle, battles that never happened, with troops that never came. Micheal had never taken a constructive role in these plots, he had been too young, a fact that had in the end saved his life. Other times Micheal daydreamed of an old servant of his father coming to serve him, or some noble of this country finding him and taking him in. No one came though and Micheal had, despite his dreams, decided that he would die in obscurity with no one to even befriend.

Micheal was twenty-four when the war between the kingdoms erupted. It was not just between his new home and his old, had this been the case he would have simply left for a new one, he had no attachment to his adopted state. Instead however war was like a fire that covered every country Micheal had ever heard of and it was everyone against everyone else. The lord who controlled the land of the town sent soldiers to drag men from their homes to fight but every time they came from Micheal he gave them some money and they left him alone. The people of the town just thought him to be one of the lucky ones who had been spared because they needed hands to work.

To be continued...

No this blog is not dead

I'm very sorry, school took over my life the last few months, now that it is over I will be writing again every day. I will not be continuing the story I stopped in the middle of for now though. I might get back to it someday, indeed I intend to rewrite it so that it makes a lot more sense, but it has been too long for now. I have lost the thread of the story completely. Instead I will be starting a new story. Again, I am sorry.