The Bastard

  The Bastard

  Book 1

  Jack Porter

  Copyright © 2019 by Jack Porter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Also by Jack Porter

  1

  Just because I was in the central market to kidnap the daughter of a wealthy merchant didn’t mean I couldn’t indulge in a bit of petty thievery first.

  It was mid-afternoon, and while the clouds hadn’t parted, the rain had stopped and there was a feeling of lightness in the air. The change of seasons had finally arrived, dragging the town away from the gloom of winter to the slightly lesser gloom of spring.

  Consequently, people were out and about, smiling, talking, and even laughing as they strolled between stalls, ignoring the mud on their boots and enjoying the afternoon.

  To most of them, I would have been nothing more than another stranger, enjoying the sights and smells of the market just like anyone else. Of medium height and build with dark hair, I wore a large leather pouch over my tunic and coat, the type of thing the King’s messengers might wear, although that was something I wasn’t. No, I was a thief—ahem—opportunist.

  So yeah, just another stranger.

  Except…

  I was noticeably more handsome than other people, with an open expression, easy smile, bright green eyes, and innocent features.

  It wasn’t vanity, just a simple reflection of the truth. More than enough women had confirmed it, and more than once my charms had helped me out of a jam.

  And my natural charms weren’t my only good quality. I was stronger and quicker than I looked and could generally hold my own in a fight. And with that quickness came a lightness of touch that really helped in my chosen profession of opportunism.

  I couldn’t help but catch the mood of the crowd as I made my way through. Smiling, I nudged a middle-aged man making a deal with a much younger prostitute, and he didn’t notice my fingers lighten his coin pouch by the weight of his silver. I passed a fruit vendor serving a pair of plain-looking women, and he never saw that his barrel of apples and pears became a little less full. I danced around a vendor with a cart selling dried meat on a stick, but left him alone because I knew he was desperate, and also because he dried his wares out in the sun where all the flies could taste them.

  Along with the myriad of vendors, the market boasted a number of entertainment options. A juggler on stilts threw glittering knives through the air, and I remembered a time not too long ago when I had made my coin the same way.

  But these days, I found it much easier to pick the pockets of those who watched, all while feigning clumsiness.

  “Excuse me,” I said with a smile as I dipped into another man’s coin pouch.

  “Forgive me,” I said as I nudged a fat woman, distracting her and the merchant she was talking to so I could filch a small round of brie.

  “Sorry,” I said to a beggar as I tripped over him, spilling the coins from his cup into the mud and returning only a small portion of them.

  And I wasn’t the only one in the market plying my trade. I saw others, men and women both, doing as I did, and street urchins as well, kids dressed in rags and using speed more than skill.

  By mutual unspoken consent, we stayed out of each other’s way, but I had to smile at the sheer number of people who would find themselves leaving the market with less than they realized.

  It was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon, and within a surprisingly short time, my satchel was bulging with ill-gotten gains. I had walked the entire length and breadth of the market, and was beginning to wonder if my target had failed to show despite what Rolf had said, when finally, I spied her at a fabric merchant’s stall, admiring the different fabrics.

  I paused for a moment, not even bothering to hide my interest, and admired her from afar. Rolf’s description had been more than enough. This was definitely my target.

  “A redheaded beauty,” the Blackcoat had said. “As tall as you, and with curves in all the right places. She will likely be wearing a green dress, and its quality will be clear, but it’ll be cut for more practical wear than other high-ranking ladies would choose.”

  Rolf had offered one of his lecherous grins at that point. “She’ll stand out in a crowd, mark my words. You won’t miss her.”

  If anything, the Blackcoat had undersold the woman’s beauty. To my eyes, she was special, and I almost reconsidered going through with the plan.

  But I’d made a deal with Rolf, and he wasn’t the sort of man to take kindly to me backing out. Especially when he and a couple of his men were already waiting in a nearby alley.

  I smiled. Rolf and his regular cronies couldn’t do what I could do. Sure, they could resort to brute force and violence to get the job done, but to lure a woman like this out of the market? To make her leave willingly, without suspicion?

  That’s why Rolf had approached me for the job.

  And, anyway, it wasn’t like we were going to hurt her. She was a wealthy merchant’s daughter, and while I could get by easily enough by picking pockets, Rolf had promised that the merchant would pay gold to have his daughter returned unharmed.

  For a quick afternoon’s work that might even be fun, I had figured why not, and gone along with the plan.

  All I needed now was an excuse to talk to her.

  In an unconscious gesture, my right hand went to the medallion at my neck. At first glance, the piece was next to worthless and looked like a large coin made of wood. But it had long since been worn smooth, and the patterns were gone. Whenever I felt the need, I would rub it for luck, and so far, it hadn’t let me down.

  And yet, it was more than a simple good luck charm.

  I had been no more than a boy, maybe six or seven years old, when a beautiful woman with dark hair and pale skin had hung it around my neck. I still remember her sad smile and the words that she spoke.

  “I made this for you, Mordie. It may not look like much, but there’s power within it. In a moment of need, all you need to do is break it into two, and everything will turn out all right.”

  I remember gripping the medallion in my pudgy, boyish fingers, and feeling a slight tingle on my skin. “It’s magic?” I asked, and the beautiful woman nodded.

  So far, I’d never been in a position to test if the woman’s words had been true. Sure, I’d grown up on the streets–that was the last time I’d set eyes on the woman–and had found my fair share of trouble there. But since I’d always been able to talk my way out of it, it hadn’t seemed quite right to test out the magic.

  It had been a long time since my fingers had tingled at the medallion’s touch. Whether the magic remained in it or had faded, I didn’t know. But I still rubbed it for luck, remembering the beautiful woman even as I wondered who she was, and why she had given me such a gift.

  Of course, I also wondered who I was. I had no parents, and not even a last name to call my own.

  Which is why I was in the marketplace, making a living from kidnapping a merchant’s daughter. That’s how things were in this impoverished and crime-ridden city.

  Although considering what I was about to do, it wouldn’t be a stretch to suggest that I was part of the crime problem.

  2

  I thought about just wandering up to the redheaded woman and introducing myself, but figured she might be the type to get annoyed by that approach.

  With someone like her, I would need a more valid reason.

  Fortunately for me, one presented itself within moments of me letting go of my medallion.

  It came in the form of one of the street urchins. He was hurrying along the aisle between stalls as if he was up to no good, but not as if he was being actively chased.

  I turned as he moved past me and snagged him by the back of his dirty tunic, halting him in his tracks.

  He struggled. “Hey! I ain’t done nothing!” he shouted, and I
dragged him down a side aisle, out of the woman’s view. I didn’t want her to see me, not just yet, and especially not in the company of this kid.

  “I know you haven’t,” I said. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Then fuck the hell off and leave me alone!” the boy shouted. Then he conjured a knife from somewhere and tried to reach around to stab me. So I grabbed his wrist and held it firm.

  “Quit it. Or do you not want a chance to make some easy coin?” I asked him.

  That got his attention. He tried to look around at me, but I was still behind him. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice full of suspicion. “Are you one of them Nancy types looking for a bum boy or something? Because I’m telling you, I ain’t into that type of thing–”

  I laughed. “Nothing like that, I promise.”

  “Then let me go!”

  “I will. And if you listen to what I have to say, I’ll give you a couple of coppers. How does that sound?”

  “A couple of coppers just for listening?” he asked.

  “That’s what I said.”

  He stopped struggling. “Make it three.”

  I laughed again and let him go. As quick as a blink, he turned around, his knife still at the ready and a frown on his twelve-year-old face. “I’m listening,” he said. “But you make one funny move, and I’ll cut you where you stand.”

  I had to admit, I liked the boy already. He reminded me of myself at that age. “I won’t,” I said, holding my hands out in surrender. “Promise.”

  He seemed to relax a little, the hand holding the knife lowering slightly. “What do you want?” he repeated.

  “First, what’s your name?”

  “You can call me Samuel, if you like.”

  “Samuel,” I repeated, not knowing or caring if it was his real name. “I want you to steal someone’s coin pouch for me.”

  He looked at me with deep suspicion. “You what?”

  “You heard me,” I said.

  “You want me to steal a coin pouch?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “What the fuck for? Why don’t you steal one yourself?”

  “What for is my business. And it isn’t a coin pouch, but a particular one.” I grinned at him. “And it would defeat the purpose if I was to take it myself.”

  He was still staring at me in confusion. “And if I’m going to take the risk and all, why should I give the coin pouch to you? What’s in it for me?”

  “How much do you usually get when you steal a coin pouch?” I asked him.

  “Who said I did? Thieves lose their hands around these parts, don’t you know?”

  I really did know. I’d come close to losing a hand or two myself. But as I’d grown older, I’d become better at picking my targets.

  “Maybe you’re not the street urchin I’m looking for,” I said, pitching my words so he would take it as a challenge. “I was looking for someone willing to make some easy coin. Someone with skills I can use.”

  It was a dismissal, but I didn’t turn away. Instead, I simply waited for Samuel’s response.

  I could see his mind ticking. Despite himself, he was curious. After all, it wasn’t every day a stranger approached with such an unusual offer.

  “Hypothetically,” he allowed. “If I was such a thieving knave as you seem to think, I reckon I’d make a small handful of coppers, and maybe a silver or two from each pouch.”

  Given how young he was–and how unlikely it was that he would be as choosy about his targets as I was with mine–I doubted he made as much as he claimed. But I didn’t hesitate.

  “I’ll give you twice that if you do the job,” I said.

  “Twice–” Samuel began, but cut himself off. His eyes were almost bulging at the thought. And I knew what he was thinking. Such a score as the one I was talking about would keep him fed for a fortnight. More if he was careful.

  It might even help him buy a new tunic and shoes for his bare feet.

  I didn’t say anything else, just waited for the cogs in his head to continue to spin. Finally, he offered a small nod. “Who do you want me to rob?” he asked.

  My smile grew broader. “Put down that knife, and I’ll tell you.”

  3

  “The redhead wearing the green dress. She’s beautiful. You can’t miss her. Have a look, but don’t do anything yet. Okay?”

  There were people everywhere, strolling past us without a care in the world, ignoring me and the boy. I ignored them too, as well as the stallholders, but kept half an eye out for any Blackcoats who happened to be wandering by. Not all of them were like Rolf, and I didn’t want to get arrested before the job was done.

  Samuel couldn’t see through the crowd, so he had to make his way closer to my target. I loitered where I was, and he quickly returned.

  “Got her. At the fabric merchant.”

  “Good,” I said. “Now, here’s the thing. You have to make sure she sees you.”

  The kid shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “She ain’t gonna see me. They never do. I’m too good for that. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

  He said it with more than a little pride, and I believed him. After all, he was still in possession of both of his hands.

  But that wasn’t the point. “No, the thing is, I want her to see you. I want her to know what you’ve done. Got it?”

  “You’re fucking daft,” he said.

  “I have my reasons. Do you understand?”

  He deflated a little. “Whatever. It’s your coin,” he said.

  “Good. There’s one more thing. When she sees you, take off at a run, but head towards me. I’ll be following close by.”

  Samuel didn’t ask any more questions. He just nodded.

  “Good. Are you ready?”

  The boy looked quickly around as if to make sure there were no Blackcoats about. Then he nodded once more.

  “Off you go, then,” I said.

  Samuel didn’t waste time. Once more, he darted through the crowd, and I did my best to follow at what seemed to be a casual stroll. I positioned myself so I could see the redheaded woman in the green dress without random marketgoers getting in my way.

  Samuel moved with confidence. Within just a few seconds he reached the woman, and his knife flicked out low and quick. It was a move I knew well, having used it myself more times than I could remember. A swift cut through the straps and the coin pouch would drop neatly into his hand.

  Nineteen times out of twenty, and the mark would never know it had happened. But the twentieth…

  The woman was quicker than I expected. She turned swiftly, a look of steel-eyed determination on her face as she reached out and caught the boy by the arm.

  He was as shocked as I was, having never expected the woman to act with such speed. I thought my simple plan might be over and done right then, and that I would have to think of another excuse to meet her.

  But Samuel twisted and pushed, sending the woman against the fabric merchant’s shelves as he launched himself away. The woman cried out as the boy caught sight of me and grinned his triumph, holding the woman’s coin pouch out in front.

  I smiled in return, but this wasn’t supposed to look like a meeting between conspirators. So, as he got close, I stepped to one side, grabbed his arm and stuck my foot in front of his, using his momentum against him.

  He landed face-first in the mud. “Hoi! What do you think you’re playing at?”

  As casually as you please, I stuck a knee in the middle of his back and plucked the woman’s coin pouch from his grip. “Quiet,” I hissed. “Here’s your money. Now struggle, and I’ll let you go.”