Free The Beast of Maug Maurai, Part One: The Culling by Roberto Calas Page A

regular duty,” said Grae, summarizing the terms
scrawled on the writ from the Chamberlain. “If you are charged with any moderate
infraction during that time, you will once again be encased. If, however, you
serve the two years honorably, you are free to drop out of the Standards, or
continue to serve, at your pleasure. All previous crimes will be forgotten”
    “What’s a ‘moderate’ infraction?”
asked Shanks, still smirking.
    “Truth or silence, moderate
infractions are probably things you do for entertainment,” Grae responded.
    “Well then,” said Shanks. “That takes
a bit o’ fun from life, don’t it?” He met Grae’s gaze. “What if I say no?”
    “Then Geyr Froen swallows Beldrun
Shanks. You’ll rot in there until there’s nothing but scraps of flesh left.
Then you’ll be hanged when they need the space.”
    “Rot first, then hang?” Shanks
laughed. “That don’t leave much choice. I s’pose I’ll throw my lot in with the
Beast. It’ll be quicker that way.”
    Grae unlatched Shanks’ manacles. He
gave the keys to Hammer to unlock the leg irons because it would be unseemly
for a brig to kneel before a trudge. When the prisoner was free Grae nodded to
Hammer, gestured toward a pile of scuffle weapons that the guards had brought.
     “Right,” said Hammer. “Before we go,
let’s ‘ave a look at your fightin’ form. They say your handy with an axe.”
    “No,” said Shanks. “They say I’m a
terror with an axe.”
    “Sure.” Hammer pointed toward the
sparring axes. “Grab one of those and terrify us. Have a go with that stout
over there, if he’s agreeable to a spar.”
    Shanks looked at the stout. “Him? You
take me for a glassman? He ain’t nothin’ but two layers ‘a skin and a helmet.”
    The stout, a tall man with red hair,
dropped his crossbow and hefted a shield and sword from the stack. “I’m more
than agreeable to it.”
    Shanks made a great show of walking
to the stack of weapons, stretching his fingers, rolling his shoulders. He
compared the weight of two axes, dropped one. He pulled a dented shield from
the pile and then pointed with the axe toward the guard. “You ready, bones?”
    “I’m ready, princess.” The stout
tightened the strap on his helm and trotted at Beldrun Shanks. When the two were
within range, the guard swung twice with his sword. Fast and crisp. Shanks
jumped backward out of range and swung the axe low, his face contorted with the
effort. The guard set his shield to ward the blow, but halfway through the
stroke Shanks shifted his hands. The axe’s arc changed. The dull iron blade
skimmed just over the guard’s shield and shattered as it struck the man’s
helmet. The blow crumpled the steel and took the light from the guard’s eyes.
The man collapsed.
    Shanks cackled and dropped the axe
handle. He stepped forward and kicked the man’s unconscious body hard. Bent
down so that his mouth was inches from the man’s face. “I don’t think you were
ready, princess .” He kicked the man again.
    Hammer screamed and shoved the big
man backward. Grae and the Geyr Froen Wardmaster checked the fallen stout. The
man’s head was gashed and bleeding under the helm, Grae looked back at Shanks,
who was chuckling at Hammer’s screams.
    The wardmaster followed Grae’s eyes
and cleared his throat. “I could … I could just … throw him back in the dungeon
if you want, sir.”
     
    Throwing Shanks back in the dungeon
wasn’t an option. The Chamberlain had been quite specific about the squad. It
would have been awkward to explain why they had chosen to leave one of the best
fighters behind.
    “You hit ‘im in the head!” Hammer was
angry enough that he could only yell at Shanks in spurts. “You don’t aim fer
the head when sparrin’!”
    “I wasn’t aimin’ for his head,” said
Shanks.
    “Oh, you weren’t were you?”
    “No, Hammer,” said Shanks, laughing.
“I were going for his throat.”
    Grae calmed Hammer and ordered him