The Lord's Vault

Gold coins are actually quite heavy. I had never realized before. Well, I had never had any before. But that day, a sack full of golden coins was tied to my belt, and bounced around with every step, clinking furiously. A similar sound came from Scott’s pouch, though his pouch was lighter than mine. His didn’t sound as good. The forest was not only filled with the sound of jingling gold; birdsong, deer calls, and rushing water filled our ears. This peaceful nature was broken by another sound which we could not escape: the bark of bloodhounds, which seemed to grow closer every hour.

The density of trees made tracking us difficult, but it also dashed our hopes of a quick escape. Scott and I moved swiftly through the trees. We walked through bushes, and hopped over exposed roots and jagged rocks. Actually, I hopped over the jagged rocks. Scott tried to, but he jumped too short, and came down too quick. With a sickening slice, the rock ripped open the back of his leg. The gray rock was painted a deadly red.

“Jesus Christ, Scott. You don’t have to leave the bloodhounds a trail. They seem pretty good at their job even without your help.”

Scott was too busy fighting back tears to yell at me. He was lying on the ground, gripping his leg, and muttering curses as quickly as he could.

I squatted in front of Scott. “Come on, let me see.” He turned slowly, wincing several times from the pain. A five-inch-long gash ran down Scott’s left calf. Blood dyed his whole leg red. It looked terrible. “It doesn’t look too bad. You’ll be fine.”

Scott cried as quietly as he could, then said, “We should’ve just gone back to town, Martin.”

We both knew that wasn’t possible. Scott Needy, the poorest man in Tinytown, could not simply walk around with a sack full of gold. Lord Prosperous was neither a forgiving nor merciful man, and he would have executed poor Scott purely on the suspicion of theft. Of course, in this case, Lord Prosperous would have been right, so I suppose I can’t be too harsh.

“That’s not really an option for us, is it Scott? Tinytown is the last place we should be right now.”

The deep bark of bloodhounds filled the air and forced us to continue, though we both knew that we couldn’t keep moving for long. We didn’t have time to tie a tourniquet, so Scott gripped his leg tightly, hoping to slow the bleeding. It didn’t work; the blood still poured out of him. I hoisted Scott up and put his arm over my shoulder.

Just like Scott, I couldn’t return to Tinytown either. I, Martin Low, was the second poorest man in town. Though, I had no intention of returning to this place for the rest of my life. It was an empty town, a town of nothing: no jobs, no houses, no food. The most common occupation in Tinytown was thief, though it was a worthless venture for most people; who exactly would they steal from? Everyone was poor in Tinytown.

Well, almost everyone.

Lord Prosperous had become the new lord of Tiny County, of which Tinytown was the largest village, after our previous lord had backed the wrong side in a civil war. Lord Prosperous, wanting to gloat about his fantastic wealth, build a large castle on a hill just outside of town, so that all his subjects could see. Yes, those same subjects who do nothing all day except steal. Prosperous’s vault, which contained the combined wealth of all his predecessors, as well as his own, was the only valuable thing in this town. It was because of this that the second most common occupation here was guard.

I don’t know how long we hiked for. It felt like hours, especially with Scott gripping my shoulder the whole way, slowing us down. Maneuvering through the brush was much harder with a man clinging onto me. We finally found a small clearing and decided that resting here would be better than continuing. It was growing dark. Neither of us had brought a lantern, or even some flint, so we could see only by the moonlight. Because of the denseness of the forest, there wasn’t even much of that. Scott sat down on a small, flattish rock, and I sat next to him.

We sat in silence for a bit, both listening intently to any rustle or crack that came from the woods. Tiny Forest, the largest forest in the Northeast, was home to wolves and bears, and I would really rather not be eaten by an animal. By that point in the night, the Lord’s guards had probably called off the search. We didn’t steal much, compared to the massive treasure trove of our Lord, and the guards didn’t get paid enough to risk their lives trying to capture us. Of course, they may have assumed we’d never make it out of here, which in Scott’s case, was looking more and more likely. When we stopped, I tore off my shirt sleeve and tied it into a tourniquet just above his knee, but Scott was still growing pale and could barely keep his eyes open. I used a large leaf to clean up his leg and get a better look at the wound. Some blood still leaked out from Martin’s gash, though much less than before. His whole leg was covered in a layer of dried blood, which gave off a terrible smell.

Scott was the one who broke our silence. He didn’t even look at me. “What do you even want the money for?”

“I don’t know. I just want to get away from this place. I need money for food until I can go somewhere else, get a real job.”

“You don’t need all that if you just want to buy food.” He pointed to my pouch, which was quite plump.

“Scott, I don’t even know where I want to go. I just want to be as far from Tinytown as possible. I hope to go someplace where I can ask a man on the street what he thinks of Tinytown, and he’ll say, ‘where the hell is that?’ I have no family, and besides you, no friends; I have no house, no food. Maybe I took more than I need, but so what? If Prosperous would kill us for taking one; why not take a hundred?” I turned away from Scott and smiled, quite satisfied with my response.

We were both quiet for a bit. Then, he said, “Five… that’s how much I took”.

I turned back then to face him. “Why count it now? We don’t know if we’re out of this yet.”

His voice was calm, calmer than it should have been. “I didn’t count it now. I counted before we left the vault. I only wanted to take five.”

“Why’s that? You think Prosperous is going to care that you weren’t greedy?”

He still didn’t look at me. “That’s how much Emma’s medicine costs. That’s all I needed.”

Again, we were both silent. I walked over to a flat rock, almost as long as me, and laid down. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I whispered.

Before I could fall asleep, I was consumed by my memory of the plan. When Scott told me he wanted to break into the Lord’s vault, I thought he was crazy. However, I will admit, in retrospect, that the plan was quite good. I mean, it did work. The guards liked to spend what little paycheck they got at the Empty Glass, our local bar. However, the average citizen of Tinytown, due to their occupation, generally hated the guards, and frequently tried to assault them. The guards had to wear their armor at all times, even at the bar. Scott and I sat inside and waited for the guards to get drunk. After some convincing, which involved a passionate plea about our financial situation, and an empty bottle against the back of their heads, we were able to borrow their uniforms. We waited until the early morning, then Scott and I, dressed in full guard regalia, simply walked in the front door. I really must criticize Lord Prosperous on this count; he should have expected someone to try this.

We marched through the massive main hall, down a grand set of stairs, and into a lavishly decorated basement, of which the centerpiece was the gold-plated vault door. The door was ten feet wide and stretched to the ceiling. On it was a rotating dial lock with hundreds of numbers.

“You do know the combination, right?” I asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I know it,” he grabbed the dial, and spun it quickly but methodically. Suddenly, the lock clicked, and he pulled the door out, “but I have a pretty good guess.”

“What was it?”

“The Lord’s birthday.”

Of course, it was.

Gold coins, gold bars, gold statues; that’s what awaited us inside the vault. I shoveled fistfuls of coins into my pouch, I didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. Scott was much slower, checking and double-checking and triple-checking, making sure he only took the amount he wanted. Then a voice rang out from behind us, “Hey, what are you two doing in there?”

When I awoke the next morning, Scott was resting against a tree, a large pool of blood underneath him. I got up, slowly walking over to him. My gold pouch jingled softly. I tapped Scott on the shoulder, called his name, slapped him across the face. Scott didn’t wake up. I put my hand to his neck and felt for a pulse. Nothing. A few of my tears splashed in the puddle of blood than surrounded Scott. After I got control of myself, I reached out for Scott’s coin purse. Five coins, that was all; that was what his life was worth. I cried on the coins too. The sun rose behind me. I sighed and sat with Scott for a few more moments. Then, I began my long march back to Tinytown.