Roland Ironheart's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Roland spread his coins on the table and counted them twice. The pile was too small. Two guards ate through his money faster than he had planned. A third would want the same good pay, and he had nothing left to promise. Outside, the woman drilled with the wall while the bearded man sharpened blades. Roland needed a fighter he could not afford. He walked the frozen hills to think. Snow crunched under his boots. He passed a small cottage, its walls hung with old iron keys, its windows glowing warm. A boy sat on the step, thin, hair like a bird's nest, red shoes soaked through. He was breaking ice off a puddle with his heel and watching the sky. "You're the man with the striped castle," the boy said. He did not look up. "A bear told me to find a princess. I found a river instead. Now I'm here." Roland stopped. The boy spoke plainly, like each word cost him something. "I'm looking for a guard," Roland said. "But I can't pay one." "I don't want coin," the boy said. "I want a place. I slept under a tunnel once. No one looked for me." He met Roland's eyes then. "I'll watch your wall for food and a roof." Roland studied him. He was small. He could not hold the oak beam. He could not swing a sword like the other two. But Roland had put sharp eyes on the watch before, back on his farm. A boy who slept in tunnels and rivers learned to notice things others missed. "Show me," Roland said. "What do you see right now?" The boy pointed past Roland's shoulder without turning. "Wings. Pink. It's been circling since you came up the path. It hunts what moves alone." Roland spun. High above, the pink dragon drifted low over the hills, butterfly wings catching the gray light. He had not heard it. He had not seen it. The boy had marked it long before. "What's your name?" Roland asked. "Timothy. Timothy Holloway." "You'll eat at my table and sleep behind my walls," Roland said. "You'll be my third watch. No pay. A home." Timothy stood and knocked the ice from his shoes. "Then I'm yours." Roland walked him back down the hill. His coffers were still thin, but they held. He had his third hand, and the money problem was solved not by more coin but by a boy who wanted none. Overhead the dragon banked toward its nest in the hills. But Roland's two guards had earned their places holding the beam. They had tested each other by strength. Timothy had passed no test but a glance at the sky. Roland led a thin boy through the gate and knew the woman would want to know why. He had no strong hand for her. He had only a sharp eye, and now he had to make her trust it.