by Amanda Fleet
“And if he corrupted others, he’d essentially have sleeper cells ready to rise up,” I added.
“Fuck.”
Faran so rarely swore, he surprised me. I’d only heard him curse twice before: once when he was on the back of a motorbike I was throwing around a dirt track, and once when the Chief Locksmith refused to open the vault without the Council’s permission. He rubbed his forehead. “We have to meet Cenan for patrol. If we come up with any ideas, we’ll let you know.”
“Of course.” Lord Sondan turned to me. “Lady Aeron. Forgive me for any presumption.”
Faran chuckled. “Mm. Don’t touch her without her permission. She’s punched me for less and we’re married.”
Lord Sondan laughed, breaking the tension. “The error was mine. We’ll talk soon. Lady Aeron, you’re captaining again.”
He made his bows and left.
Faran slid his other arm around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. “You are a tinderbox today. What’s wrong?”
I sucked in a deep breath, feeling less and less like a Guardian. “I don’t believe in torture or beating people up in the hope they’ll be more forthcoming in their answers. And I’ve realised quite what a can of worms I’ve opened, saying that Aegyir could have corrupted non-Guardians.”
“Can of worms?”
“Um. A situation that makes more problems than it solves.”
“English is a strange language. Have you calmed down yet? I honestly thought you were going to black Sondan’s eye when he put his hands on your shoulders.”
“Yeah. I only just didn’t.”
He leaned back to look at me, wincing. “We should go and meet Cenan. We’re already late.”
***
We hitched a ride in the back of a cart to the track that led to Barsdal, but the place itself was on the way to nowhere so we had to walk the last mile or so. Cenan was Lord Sondan’s younger brother and a good friend of Faran’s. He still had a boyish look to him but unlike Lord Sondan, had no white flash in the front of his hair.
Cenan stared at everything we passed, generally bouncing around like an excited puppy to Faran’s weary adult wolf. I’d met him a couple of times before, and on each occasion, he’d been full of curiosity about Outside. It seemed his thirst for information hadn’t been quenched.
“Lady Aeron, tell me more about Outside? Do you think Lord Eredan will let any Guardians go Outside, once the demons have been captured?”
We trudged down a track to the village, rolling green fields on either side, the path lined with trees. It was overcast, but not raining. From Faran’s demeanour, the countryside still wasn’t winning him over.
“I don’t know,” I said. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about money again?”
Faran rolled his eyes. I explained for the umpteenth time about money – how you earned it, what you used it for – but as ever, it seemed an alien concept. Here, if you needed something, you got it. If you didn’t need anything, you didn’t. I wasn’t sure who decided what anyone needed, but the system worked reasonably well.
“Faran said there were metal boxes for transport. Tell me about them? And he said he went on the back of a two-wheeled thing that you knew how to work. What was that?”
Cars and motorbikes. I did my best to describe them. And trains and buses and lorries and planes. Faran caught my expression. “Cenan, enough. Lady Aeron has to concentrate on the mission, not your interest in Outside.”
Cenan shut his mouth abruptly, but I knew he itched to know more.
“Let’s get this patrol finished, then I’ll tell you more about Outside,” I offered. “But Faran’s right. I need to focus at the moment.”
We walked on in silence. As we approached the village outskirts, a low buzzing sound filled the air, and I paused, motioning to Cenan and Faran to halt. “What is that noise?”
Both men tilted their heads, frowning. Faran glanced across at me, his face grim. “Carrion flies.”
I drew my sword, my heart in my mouth. What were we about to walk in to? Faran and Cenan also drew their swords. Faran turned to cover our backs, pushing Cenan forwards to my side, and we walked in formation into the village.
Bodies littered the street. I stared, swallowing hard. The village was silent apart from the buzzing. No kids out playing. No one hanging laundry between the houses. No sounds of people at work. Just simple buildings lining the road, and no signs of life.
Hesitantly, I crouched next to the first body, sending up a cloud of black flies. From the mottled grey skin and the stench coming from the body, he wasn’t freshly dead. My stomach heaved, and I stood quickly, forcing down bile, my throat twitching. I stared down the road. Body after body lay on the ground. In just the main thoroughfare alone, I counted over twenty. None had any visible causes of death, though I wasn’t looking too closely. In all likelihood, they’d had their energy ripped out of them by demons, which would leave no mark. Just one demon? Or more? If it was just one, it would be incredibly strong, judging by the death toll.
Cenan was young and pretty green. Would he be strong enough to help contain the ball of smoke before it could be trapped?
“Excuse me!” Cenan dashed to the verge and threw up copiously.
Green in more ways than one. Faran caught my gaze, also looking fairly pale.
I stepped back from the body and tapped my communications button. “Lord Sondan.”
“Lady Aeron? I’m in a meeting with Lord Eredan.”
“Fine. Both of you need to know this. We’ve just arrived at Barsdal. It’s a massacre. I’ve done a quick body count in the main street and it’s well over twenty. We haven’t checked the side streets or the houses, but there’s no sight nor sound of anyone alive at the moment.”
“No one?” Disbelief and horror veined his voice.
I swallowed, not sure if I was going to be joining Cenan in throwing up. “Not that I can see. If there are any survivors, we’ll take them to the nearest village. I’ll report again once we’ve done a house-to-house. Lord Sondan, there are too many bodies here for us to deal with.”
“Mass grave?”
“Ultimately, yes. But it will take the three of us too long to dig one. The bodies are rotting in the streets.”
Lord Sondan breathed out heavily. “How long have they been dead?”
“I don’t know. At least a day. Maybe two. They don’t look or smell fresh.”
There was a spattering sound behind me as Cenan lost the last of his breakfast, and my throat twitched in sympathy.
“Okay. Report again when you’ve completed the house-to-house.”
“Will do. Thank you.” I closed the communication line and turned to Faran. I had no idea how to deal with any of this. “Advice?”
Faran gazed up the street, his colour still not returned. “I’d want you or me on watch while the others check the houses, but I don’t know if Cenan’s going to cope with finding more bodies.” Cenan was still heaving at the side of the road. “I’ll check the houses. You and Cenan stay outside and keep watch.”
“Sure?”
Faran pulled a face. “No. But I’m not standing watch while you look for bodies.”
My shoulders sagged. “I feel pretty shit that you have to go and look for them.”
He shrugged. “Cenan! Come here and keep watch with Lady Aeron.”
Cenan re-joined us, the colour of milk and trying hard not to look at the bodies on the ground. We walked towards the first building and Faran ducked inside.
“Cenan, watch the road coming into the village,” I said. “I’ll watch this way.”
I kept my sword drawn as I studied the lane, trying to keep a check on all the road-ends and buildings. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, but there was no sign of life in any direction. Faran poked his head out of the front door of the house. “Three bodies. Man, wife, son.”
Cenan’s throat twitched violently at the news. Faran shot him a glance. “Cenan. Keep it together.
I do not want us surprised because you’re distracted by being sick.”
Faran wrote the number of dead on the door of the house, using a bit of charcoal. I presume he got it from a fireplace in the house. We moved to the next house. Another two victims. It took us twelve houses and eighteen more bodies before Faran bellowed.
“Aeron! Swap places. I need you in here. There’s a girl who’s alive, but terrified.” He appeared in the broken doorway – someone had kicked it in before we’d got there. “She’s in the back room downstairs. The rest of the building is clear.”
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness inside. Once they had, I picked my way to the back of the house. There, a girl of about fifteen years old clung to the perimeter of the room, brandishing a knife. I stopped in the middle of the room, holding my hands out.
“Hi. I’m Aeron. Can you tell me your name?”
She stared at me, the whites of her eyes showing, but remained silent. From her attire of woollen leggings and tunic in a dull brown, I guessed she was a labourer’s daughter.
“Can you tell me what happened here?” I said.
“Guardians,” she whispered.
“Guardians did this?”
A fat tear ran down her cheek. I stepped forwards but she raised the knife so I moved back again.
“You can’t stay here. We can take you to the next village. You’ll be safe with us.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No.”
“I know you’re scared, but you really can’t stay here. Come on. You can trust me, I promise. We’re here to help. Put the knife down?”
She didn’t put the knife down but she did inch her way forwards. I moved to the side so she could leave without getting too close to me, and she scuttled past. I followed her back outside. There, Cenan was still watching the road into the village. Faran had taken my role and was scanning the track through the village. The girl sat down at the front of the house.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
Wide eyes stared at me but she finally spoke. “Ulfa.”
“Okay, Ulfa. What happened here?”
She stared at Faran, trembling. He stood more than a foot and a half taller than her and was currently scowling. If I wasn’t married to him, I’d be terrified of him.
“Faran? Take three steps up the road? You’re scaring her.”
He moved, and her attention switched to Cenan.
“You need me to move too?” Cenan asked.
“No. Stay where you are.” I trusted Faran to do his job, but I didn’t want Cenan out of sight. “Ulfa. Talk to me? You can trust us. Cenan, keep watching the road, please.”
“They’re coming back,” whispered the girl, winding her hand into her tunic.
“Who are?” I asked.
Her gaze flicked towards Cenan, eyes wide. “They are.”
I turned. Despite all my exhortations, Cenan had his back to the main thoroughfare, his attention on me and Ulfa. Behind him stood a large man with a cudgel.
“Cenan!” I yelled. Too late.
The man brought the club down on Cenan’s head, and his legs went from under him. His eyes turned glassy as he hit the dust.
“Faran!”
“I’m here.”
Half a dozen men emerged from the space between two houses to join Cenan’s attacker. I checked my charm-bracelet. None of them was a demon.
I braced my legs, ready to fight, adrenaline pouring through me.
10
Cenan lay on the ground, out for the count, with the big man continuing to rain down blows on him.
“Faran! Remember Outside. Maim or disable these guys. Don’t kill them!”
Killing them would only give their strength to whichever demon had enslaved them.
Half a dozen men, all armed with vicious-looking clubs or sticks, tried to pin us against the building. All of them filled with rage. I hoped they were under the influence of a demon and not this angry with the Guardians because of perceived injustices. I pushed Ulfa back against the wall, out of the way of the men. “Stay there!”
Faran yelled across. “I’ll draw them off. Get Cenan safe.”
He took two strides forwards, giving me enough space to be able to clobber Cenan’s attacker. The hilt of my sword smashed into the back of his head, knocking him out. I kicked Cenan lightly. “You still with us?”
No response. I leaned over and grabbed the scruff of his jacket, hauling him just inside the front door of the building. I didn’t have time to do more than roll him into the recovery position before I ran back to help Faran.
When I re-emerged, Faran was almost surrounded. I rushed to the three men at his back, slashing at the shoulder of the nearest. He yowled and lurched at me, his two pals joining him. I squared my shoulders, breathing hard. Faran tackled the three remaining men. One of their clubs clipped his wrist, and his sword clattered to the ground. I stole a glance at Faran, but he was holding his own, fists more than making up for a lack of a sword.
Before I could do much with my trio, a staff caught my midriff, knocking the air out of me. I crumpled backwards, lashing out with my sword and slicing into the leg of my attacker, disabling him. Another blow struck my temple, leaving my head ringing and me seeing stars. I punched the man in the head as hard as I could, and he slumped to the floor. He didn’t look as if he’d take any further part in the proceedings.
Which left me with one, but he was more than enough to deal with. He too wielded a staff, giving him the advantage of being able to strike me while keeping out of my reach. I ducked and dived, keeping out of range, but eventually, my luck ran out, and his staff hit me solidly in my side. I heard my ribs crack a moment before the pain hit me.
And then I couldn’t breathe.
I scrabbled on the ground, trying to find a position to protect myself, but another serious blow numbed my entire leg. I clutched my ribs, the horrible feeling of my chest not working panicking me. My brain flooded with memories of an assault by my adopted step-brother that had almost killed me. He’d kicked me so hard in the ribs, I couldn’t inflate my lung. I felt exactly the same, no air moving, despite my best efforts.
“Aeron?” Faran called across.
I had no breath to answer him. The staff struck me again, this time across my crown, and my vision swam. I could do nothing.
“Aeron?”
I slid sideways, my head bouncing against a small wall around the house as I collapsed. Next to me, Ulfa sprang up and ran hell for leather, screaming. I struggled to sit up but to no avail. Another blow landed on my temple, and the world disappeared.
***
I came to, alongside Cenan. He flopped about next to me, trying to sit up. I pressed my hand to my ribs, scanning where we were. From what I could see, we were in the main lounge of the house where we’d found Ulfa. The ribs on the right side of my chest moved in as I tried to inhale, rather than expanding outwards. I winced, cracking the dried blood on my face. I could hear scuffling outside. I did not want to get trapped in here. Painfully, I shuffled my way to the door to peer out.
The seven men who’d attacked us lay on the ground at the front of the house. Faran was in the process of tying them together and glanced up as I emerged. “Are you okay?”
“I could be worse,” I wheezed.
His eyes widened as he scanned me. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know. Find me a healer?”
Faran grimaced. “I assume the village healer was killed in the massacre but I’m hoping his stores will be intact and that he’s not sent all of the salve to the city. How are you hurt?”
“I think I have several broken ribs. I can’t breathe properly.”
“And your head?”
“A bit bashed.” I knew my face was coated with blood. “I think it looks worse than it is.”
“Good, because it looks horrific.”
“And you?” I asked. He appeared intact, albeit pale.
“Nothing major. I’ll live.” He finished tying our attac
kers together and secured them to a fence at the side of the building. “How’s Cenan?”
“Awake. I think he might be concussed.”
He crouched next to me, inspecting my head, his eyes wide, his lips bitten together. “I need to find the healer’s house. Go back inside. I’ll be as quick as I can be.”
I waited with Cenan, our swords drawn. Faran returned about a quarter of an hour later, his jacket clinking from the array of bottles he’d ransacked from the healer’s store. He unloaded them on to the floor in front of me and barricaded the door, then he sorted the bottles according to their labels. I hoped the healer had got a decent store of medicine for Guardians. The various salves which allowed us to heal quickly didn’t work on anyone who wasn’t a Guardian, and the way today was panning out, Faran might have only found non-Guardian medicine.
“Bone-setting salves, normal salve, drinks for blood loss, drinks for internal bleeding.” He pointed at the piles in turn. “What do you need?”
“All of them, probably. Will they work on us?”
He nodded. “Mm. They were all in a box ready to be sent to the city.”
“Okay. Bone-setting first. Fix my ribs so I can breathe.”
Faran shot a glance to Cenan. “Cenan? Where are you hurt?”
Cenan sat up, groggy. “Head.”
I eased my jacket off while Faran assessed Cenan, half an eye still on me.
“Fractured skull?” I asked when Faran moved back.
“I think so. Here, let me help you.”
He pulled my top up to see my ribs. Three of them looked as if they had a double-break, resulting in the portion between the breaks moving independently. I swallowed. I’d had bone-setting salve before and it hurt like hell, but despite the pain, I would need to hold myself stable while these fractures were dealt with, otherwise, the bones wouldn’t heal straight.
“Have you brought anything that dulls pain?” I said.
Faran pushed one of the other bottles forwards. “This. But it’s very strong.”
“Good! How long does it take to work?”
“A few minutes.”
I took some and explained the issues over healing my ribs to Faran.
