The Messenger Boy - 1. Chapter 1

Kim was a thief to begin with. He was a very good thief. He was, to put it plainly, an honorable thief who followed the tenets of the Thieves Guild. He did not follow them blindly, or from fear of punishment by the Guildmaster. He did not follow them because he was a conformist. Indeed, he understood well what few of his fellows understood at all: that to be a proper thief was to be a nonconformist. He understood that the tenets defined the extreme limits of his behavior. Kim also understood that if he were to become a great thief, he would have to explore the huge territory bounded by the tenets. He also understood, although it was not part of the tenets, that when it came to exploring the in-betweens of the tenets, it was easier to beg forgiveness than it was to ask permission.

Kim was also a boy, only recently brought to that state by his cousin, a serious young tween who was an apprentice at the College of Magic. Kendyl, for that was the cousin’s name, had presented Kim a dagger of fine steel with a haft made from the tusk of an elephant. “The elephant lived many years, and served well his master. During his latter years, he was the leader of his herd. When the time came, he died quietly. May the same be said of you,” Kendyl had wished Kim when he presented the dagger.

Kim was apprenticed to Epigone, a Master Thief and owner of a small shop in the Ordinary Market. The shop offered second-hand but serviceable books, scrolls, and writing instruments, as well as foolscap and palimpsests. Its customers were students who came from the Temple School, the School of Magic, and the Court. They shopped in the Ordinary Market, and at Epigone’s store, in order to stretch their stipends.

As an apprentice thief, Kim was expected to learn two trades, for it was a very rare thief who could support himself by that trade, alone. Epigone’s shop was modestly successful, and its income was sufficient that Epigone did not have to push Kim into practicing his second trade before the boy was properly trained.

Part of Epigone’s success lay in his industry. He actively cultivated suppliers at the schools and at the stores of the City Market, men and tweens who knew that Epigone would offer fair price for used or damaged goods. They knew that he or his apprentice would visit them frequently to collect these items, and pay in hard coin. Although neither Epigone nor his customers had ever heard the term, “cash flow,” they understood the concept. Kim quickly was introduced to these people. As he visited them on Epigone’s business, Kim learned the city, and made acquaintances — even friends—who would serve him well in the future.

Epigone also understood that the poor students who were his most steady customers were not destined to remain poor. They had already proven their mettle by being accepted at a school or at the court. They would, with a very few exceptions, become successful and well paid, even rich. Epigone was generous with credit and business-like without being usurious when it came to repayment. From the occasional temple acolyte who took a vow of poverty and became a mendicant, Epigone would accept a blessing as repayment, although he did not widely advertise that practice.

Both of Kim’s trades took him throughout the city. There came a time, then, when he was asked to carry a message from one place to another. He did this both quickly and discretely. In time, people came to know him to be a reliable messenger. It was the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild who discovered that Kim had a perfect memory for even long and complicated messages. The Guildmaster, and then others, entrusted Kim with messages that could not be written.

*****

The scribes at the baron’s court were an important source of materials for Epigone. Outdated lists of supplies for the army, old inventories of foodstuffs—all the debris of a Baronial administration—were discarded. It was less costly for the Baron to sell the parchment and paper to Epigone, and buy new, than to erase them. Hence, Kim often visited the back stairs of the palace, picking up bundles of paper and parchment, and delivering copper and silver coins.

On one such day, finding no scrap, Kim was leaving the palace when his foot slipped in a puddle on the stone steps. He fell, hitting his head. He lay, motionless and unconscious.

Kim woke to find a tween bending over him. The older boy was cradling the younger boy in his arms. “Are you all right?” the tween asked.

Kim replied, “I am either dead or dreaming, for you are the most beautiful boy in the world.”

The boy who was holding Kim blushed, “You are neither dead nor dreaming. However, you are a little dizzy if you think that I am beautiful. Perhaps you were hurt more badly than it seems.”

Well, Kim was not hurt at all except for a slight bump on his head that went away in a day. The tween, who was named Caelus, was a squire to the baron and truly was a beautiful boy. He became Kim’s Best Friend. They sealed their oath by exchanging daggers, as was the custom of their day. Kim gave Caelus the dagger he had received from his cousin. When he told the story of the elephant, Caelus grew thoughtful. “Your cousin’s wish now is for both of us. I sincerely hope he is a foreteller, for I fear the future.” Kim asked Caelus to explain, but that boy could not. “I only know that there is danger.”

These were the days before the Great War, and knighthoods did not come quickly. Caelus elected to remain a tween, hoping for the day that he would perform some feat worthy of knighthood. Kim, who divided his time between the palace and Epigone’s shop, and who became heart-bound to Caelus, remained a boy.

Some years after Kim and Caelus became Best Friends, it became common knowledge that Dark forces were massing south of the mountains. Although officially this was denied, Kim learned that the baron feared an attack. Traders from the south, once welcomed, were presumed to be spies, and were closely watched.

*****

The Baron could not convince the ambassador from the Desert Prince that the attack from the south was the harbinger of a battle between Light and Dark. The Baron protested that his people had no designs on land south of the mountains.

The ambassador knew that the Baron spoke the truth as he saw it, but also knew that the Baron could not speak for the army from the south. If their goals were merely territorial, then the fight would not belong to the Desert Prince. The white-robed ambassador insisted that he have proof that the southern Army fought on behalf of the Darkness.

The Baron ordered his staff to find that proof. The task fell to the Spymaster. Perhaps it is not surprising that the Baron’s Spymaster was also the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild. The man thought hard about how to accomplish the mission. He was reluctant to expose his most secret agent to danger. The agent lived and worked among the camp followers of the Army of Darkness. He played the role of a sword sharpener, carrying on his back a foot-treadle-operated grindstone. He also played a dangerous game, pretending to be of the Dark while acting on behalf of the Light.

The Spymaster summoned Kim and told the boy his mission. Kim was to travel across enemy lines, and deliver a message to the sword sharpener. Kim was then to return, and report that he had done so. This was the message that Kim was to say, “The commander of the Army of the Dark carries a baton that is imbued with Evil. It not only provides him power, it serves as a conduit through which he communicates with his master who remains behind the mountains. Each of his sub-commanders carries a similar baton, which they use to communicate, and coordinate attacks. The mission is to steal one of the batons from a subordinate commander, place it in the bag, and return with it.”

The Spymaster knew that Kim was a smart boy, who had discovered that there was always something more to his missions than the boy was told. He explained to the boy that for his own protection, for the protection of the agent behind enemy lines, and for the protection of the Army of the Light, Kim could not know any more, only that his mission and the message he carried, were extremely important to the Light.

Caelus took Kim on horseback to the foothills; from that point, Kim would have to walk into the hills, find the sword sharpener, and deliver the message.

“Come back to me, Kim,” Caelus said. “Come back to me for I love you.”

“I love you, too, Caelus,” Kim said. “In this life and forever after.”

*****

Kim clasped his arms around his chest and shivered. He was naked. He was sitting on the stone floor of a cell so far below the ground that sunlight had never reached it. He knew that he would soon die, but regretted only that he had not completed his mission. For I will see Caelus again, the boy thought. I will find him in another life, we will remember this war, and we will fight forever against the Darkness.

A sharp clank preceded the skritch of the key turning; torchlight blinded Kim when the door swung open. He did not see the arm that grabbed his, nearly dislocating his shoulder as it lifted him and slung him over the guard’s shoulder.

I will not cry out, Kim vowed. His eyes betrayed him, however, and tears dripped from his face to fall unnoticed on the floor.

Minutes later, the guard swung the boy from his shoulder and dropped him to the floor. “Clean yourself,” he instructed.

Kim blinked his eyes. A stone basin held water. It poured from a spout in the wall, and drained from the basin onto the floor. There was no soap; there were no loofas; Kim had no boy magic. He splashed water onto his face and down his body. The cold shock caused him to shiver even more. “Please, it’s cold—”

“Put these on,” the guard ordered, tossing him trousers and a jacket made of shoddy. Kim hastened to obey, glad for the warmth. The trousers were too short, and the jacket was too big. Kim lapped it around himself and held it closed with his left hand.

“Come on. You can walk from here,” the guard ordered. He gestured toward the door and then to the left.

Kim followed the guard’s gruff instructions—“Up the stairs. Left. Through that door.”—until they reached a small room. “Halt.”

The guard went to the closed door opposite the one through which they’d entered, and knocked. “He’s here,” the guard replied to a voice muffled by the thick wood of the door.”

“In you go, boy,” the guard said, taking Kim’s arm and urging him through the now open door. The door closed behind him.

Kim looked around. He was in a large room lined with tapestries. The room was brightly lit by candles set in a large ironwork frame suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Below the frame, a dozen men sat around a round table.

“Is this the boy?” One of the men asked.

“Of course, you fool,” another, wearing the crown of a prince, snapped. “Do you think I would dress a catamite that poorly?” The Prince used the form of the word that meant prostitute. Laughter followed that remark.

“Come here, boy,” a man ordered, gesturing to Kim.

Kim took two steps toward the man, and then stopped. “What do you want with me? Why do you treat me thus?” He tried to put defiance into his voice.

“You are going to tell us where your master will attack,” the Prince replied. “You are going to deliver the victory to us.”

“But I don’t know!” Kim declared. He added, quickly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Attack? Who?”

“It’s no use, boy,” one of the men said. “We know you’re a spy. We know you were sent to seek out our strength and positions and strategy. But you will tell us more than you would ever have learned—” He stopped talking abruptly as a man wearing the robes of a mage entered the room.

“What do you want,” the prince asked the mage.

“Is this the boy?” the mage asked, ignoring the question.

“It is,” replied the prince. “Now, what do you want?”

The mage ignored the question again, and looked at Kim. “What is your name, boy?”

“Kim, if it please you, Master Mage,” Kim replied. Can’t hurt sucking up to a Mage, especially one that seems to be able to defy these people.

“Don’t suck up to me, boy,” the mage said. “It will do you no good. Come here.”

Kim felt the compulsion in the mage's command. Rather than try to fight it, he obeyed.

The mage stretched his finger toward Kim’s face. A slash, a sharp pain on Kim’s cheek, and the finger withdrew. The mage stuck the finger in his mouth and tasted the blood.

“If you proceed,” he addressed the prince, “only this boy will survive.” The mage turned abruptly and left the room.

*****

The men questioned Kim closely, but he knew nothing; their semblers verified this. They were not clever enough to ask why he was in their territory; they thought they knew. “He’s just a spy,” one of the men asserted. “Sent to scout our strength and positions, nothing more.”

Perhaps they’ll free me, Kim grasped at that irrational hope.

*****

Kim’s legs were tied together and the rope fastened securely to a staple set into the floor of the wagon. His hands were free. He was given bread and a pannikin of water. He’d drunk the water and eaten half the bread before the wagon began to move. Kim recognized the riders who flanked the wagon: they were the men from the room. The mage was not there.

*****

“Are you sure the boy knows nothing?” one of the men asked the Prince.

“Of course he does not,” the Prince answered.

“Is he of value as a hostage, then?” the man asked.

“Not that, either,” the Prince replied, somewhat smugly it seemed.

“What then, sire?” the man asked.

“I will tell you in due time,” the Prince said, his voice tinged now with anger. “Do not pester me!” To himself, the Prince thought. He knows nothing, and he is worth nothing, yet he may be the only thing standing between me and death. The mage foretold doom for this expedition; yet, my master commanded—demanded—that it be done. I have once altered the prophecy. After I told the mage I would include the boy, he foretold the death of all but the boy. At the right moment, I will kill the boy and destroy the power of the prophecy. The boy—all these others—may die so long as I live. The prince gripped the baton in his left hand. They will die, and I will live.

*****

The ambush was well laid, and the prince’s small party was overwhelmed. Seeing his men dying around him, the prince leapt from his horse onto the wagon. He cast aside his sword and drew his dagger. Kim lay in the floor of the wagon. The prince put a foot on the boy’s chest. The dagger swept toward Kim’s throat. The blade did not reach the boy’s flesh. A crossbow bolt struck the prince, who died instantly. The dagger and the baton fell beside Kim.

*****

With dagger in one hand, and baton in the other, Kim climbed from the wagon to face his rescuers. At least, I hope they are rescuers, he thought. A figure ran toward him. Its face was shadowed with lampblack, but Kim knew it nevertheless. “Caelus!” he cried.

*****

“We knew you had been captured,” Caelus explained. “There was another messenger who followed you. He knew only that he was to watch you and report your capture. Or death.” Caelus’ voice broke when he said this. He hugged Kim tightly before continuing.

“This,” he held up the dagger Kim had given him so many years ago, “this led us to you.”

“I no longer have the dagger you gave me,” Kim said. “They took it with my clothes. I am sorry.”

“Well, the dagger with which the prince tried to kill you is now yours,” Caelus said. “And the baton you took will be the proof needed to convince the Desert People to come to our aid.”

The End

Translators’ Notes

Benjamin Stoltz mentions this story in the time of Auric of Arcadia, when his father and Patrick recruit Benjamin into the Arcadian Intelligence Corps. That story, “In the Prince’s Secret Service,” and others may be found at http://www.gayauthors.org/author/david-mcleod. Epigone’s name is pronounced “uh PIG on ee.”