Gabriel let out a soft whistle at the mayor’s last pronouncement. Two thousand gold? From Tradepost? Whoever these brigands were, they must not have done much research on their target before attacking. Trying to find that much money among the people who lived here was like hoping to find pearls in snail shells!

“What’ll happen to us if we can’t find the money?” A tight-lipped man asked from beside the mayor’s table. Apparently the entire council had been called to the meeting, but there were still less than twenty people in the room, none dressed in clothes that rivaled even the mayor’s mediocre apparel. Gabriel could easily imagine that the only person in the room with gold on his person at the moment was himself. His eyes roamed the room and met those of a man who stood at the door whose gaze had been resting on him. He didn’t seem any more a part of the council than Gabriel was, but he still had an air of belonging, as if he, at least, believed that he had the right to be there. The outburst of voices near the mayor pulled his attention away.

“Look, we don’t have the money,” a loud man was saying, his face red with anger, “and no lord is going to defend us because we don't hold no allegiance to any fiefdom. Why don’t we just tell the bastards to bugger off and find someone to rob who actually has money?”

The mayor’s lined face went pale, and his eyes flickered fearfully over the heads of the council members in front of him to rest on the man lounging near the door, then jerked quickly away as he shook his head.

“They’ll burn down the town,” he said mournfully.

A gasp echoed through the tavern as the men and women of the council looked at each other with incredulous shock and horror. Gabriel’s eyebrows rose. Burn down the town? Wasn’t that overly dramatic? That would just be a spiteful insult to people already suffering from scarcity, an especially cruel blow since they had only recently begun building to expand the town’s limits. More importantly, demolishing the town would be a huge inconvenience for the fiefdoms that were too far from Knife’s Edge to trade straight with store owners, but there was no other town that would substitute as a merchant stop-over. His own family’s fiefdom would suffer the repercussions of the loss, and who knew how long it would take the town to get back on its feet?

“We don’t have to sit back and take this!” The voice that rang out through the tavern was heartwarmingly familiar, but hearing it made Gabriel grimace as he twisted his head to get a better look at the bar. The red-haired boy was still standing behind the bar, but his eyes were fixed with awestruck admiration at the slender figure that stood on the counter, hands on hips and face fixed in a stern frown as she stared her father in the eye across the gap that separated them.

Oh, Elise.

The mayor blanched and took a step across his table towards her. “Elise, darling, please go home now. This is an important council meeting and—”

“I’m not just going to sit at home and knit while you hand our future to a bunch of criminals,” she declared hotly, stepping towards him as well so that the tips of her toes were at the edge of the counter. “We don’t have to roll over and whimper with our tails between our legs while these . . . these monsters destroy our lives!”

“Elise,” a man on the floor said in a placating voice, “we don’t have the money. Please be reasonable.”

“Being reasonable isn’t an option,” she shouted. “We need to fight them! We need to get our weapons and gather our men and defend what’s ours!”

“Elise!” The mayor turned to look nervously at the man by the door before he faced his daughter again, his eyes pleading. “Calm down, dear. For all of our sake.”

The entire council was talking loudly over each other, some agreeing with Elise and others vehemently opposing, but Gabriel was as mesmerized by the fiery woman on the counter as the gangly boy who was still staring up at her with an open mouth. She had taken off the hat and stood with her brilliant hair loose, cascading down the front of her white dress like streams of gold through snow-covered hills. Her cheeks were flushed and even from a distance Gabriel could see her green eyes flash with emerald fire. She was a beauty, no doubt, but she was also—regretfully— an activist. Attempting to mollify her with artificial assistance was apparently not going to be enough to win this one over. It was going to take real endorsement of her noble cause to bring her to his side, but if that was what it took, then that was precisely what Gabriel was willing to do.

His mind churned, running the situation through the logic formulas that his father had pounded into his head from childhood. The situation did not seem promising. Premises: 1. The villains want money from Tradepost. 2. Tradepost does not have money. 3. If Tradepost will not give the villains money, the villains will burn Tradepost down. Conclusion: Tradepost will be burnt down.

Gabriel grimaced and looked again to the man at the door. The mayor kept looking at him as if he expected the lounging man to turn into a dragon and eat them all at any moment. Was he the one whom Elise had heard in her father’s office? If so, then it was probably safe to say that he was at least the spokesman for the brigands, and therefore the one to whom negotiations and pleading could be directed.

New argument. Premises: 1. Villian A is in charge of operation and wants money from Tradepost. 2. Tradepost does not have money. 3. Elise would be very impressed and eternally grateful if I saved Tradepost from the villains. 4. Villian A is money-grubbing human, and I have 200 gold. Conclusion: I’m going to get the girl.

Stifling a triumphant grin, he stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back as he did so that it grated noisily against the floor, and stood with his back straight and his head high. It took a moment for the members of the council to notice him, but he waited until he had received curious glances from about half before he lifted one hand and took a step away from his table.

“Wait,” he said in the most commanding voice he could muster. Frantic conversation stilled to a murmur as the council members turned their eyes to glare at him. Some of their faces changed as they noticed his fine clothes and noble bearings, but Gabriel kept his expression neutral and met the mayor’s questioning look.

“This is indeed a time of trial for this small town, a time that could end in disaster or relief, depending on how wisely you, members of the council, conduct yourselves and your affairs.” He had their attention, and he clasped his hands behind his back and strode slowly towards them. “Tradepost is on the brink of destruction, but all of us in here are men . . . and women . . . who are intelligent enough to find a way to avoid needless devastation and to work out our disagreements and our conflict in a way that is noble and fitting of our class. We are Salvaran, and we ascribe to a higher standard of negotiation. No need to lower ourselves to petty threats and unwarranted demolition! Let us examine the situation as it stands and work with what we have to determine a solution that will be beneficial to all parties involved.”

Gabriel wanted to glance at Elise to see what she thought of his grand speech, but instead he studiously avoided acknowledging her existence. He didn’t want her to think that he was doing all this just to impress her; that would make her think he was shallow.

“Yes, yes, all right,” the mayor agreed eagerly. “What can we do?”

Gabriel let his expression become thoughtful and he crossed one arm over his chest and tapped his chin with the fingers of his other hand. “Tradepost does not have funds of any sort with which to meet these men’s demands, correct?”

“That’s right,” answered one of the council members, accompanied by a chorus of nods and murmurs of agreement.

“And Tradepost also does not have any kind of militia or armed guardsmen with which to defend itself?”

The assent from the council was louder this time.

“Then it seems that the only thing left for the people of Tradepost to do,” Gabriel continued, “is to ask the men making the demands for a fair contest by which you can attempt to defend yourself and hope that there is at least a shred of honor in them that will grant them mercy for your plight.”

“What kind of contest?” A woman asked warily.

Gabriel met the eyes of the council, one at a time, before letting his gaze rest on the shady man by the door.

“A duel.”

“A duel?”

Gabriel ignored the incredulity in their voices and kept his eyes on the man by the door, hoping that the mayor’s nervous eye flickering wasn’t leading him to make a fool of himself.

“Yes, a duel,” he said, carefully watching the man in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “I offer myself as Tradepost’s champion, and I challenge the leader of this marauding band to a knife fight to determine the fate of the town. If I win, he and his men must leave without hurting anything or anyone. And if I lose, the town will burn without opposition.”

It was indeed a noble risk, but Gabriel wasn’t worried about the possibility of being responsible for a city-wide inferno. He was good with his knives, and he wasn’t actually planning to have to fight for survival anyway. If the bandit took the deal, all Gabriel would have to do was find a way to negotiate a private deal, one that involved the 200 gold he had in his backpack. It wasn’t 2,000 like they wanted, but it was at least a consolation prize and better than leaving with nothing to show for the heist but empty wallets and sooty clothes. The brigands would get their gold, and he would get Elise's undying affection. It was a win-win situation! At least, that was what he was hoping the criminal would think once he had the chance to explain it to him.

Gabriel turned and stepped closer to the door so that his face was out of sight of the council members. Still staring at the cause of the mayor’s terror, he gave the man a quick grin and dropped one of his eyelids in a covert wink.

“What say you?”