“I am Kobb, The Thirty-Two Hundred and Two.” Kobb updated, his voice hard as ancient stone, snapping his wrist back to catch the idol in his hand. “And I do not like repeating myself.”
Tandy took that as an invitation to go make sure Tzadok was okay, and she bolted towards the edge of the hill, dragging the dark-haired woman with her.
The woman in question tried to pull away. “
Tandy ignored that, recognizing that the situation on the road was untenable. The best thing to do was to retreat and regroup. She tried to pick her way down the slope, despite the loose rocks and unstable footing. It was very steep, particularly since it was dark and she was dragging someone behind her.
Below them in the darkness, they could hear that the fight was continuing.
Which meant Tzadok was still alive.
She heaved a sigh of relief, never so happy to hear the commotion of someone locked in a fight for his life.
****
Tzadok had grown up on The Great Nothing. He’d never known a day without its blistering sun or chilling winds. Its harsh stones and irritating salt had made his skin tough. Its cruel society had taught him not to be soft. Its wars and honor duels had shown him how to kill and how to ignore injuries.
Tzadok was a warrior.
He didn’t quit. Or stop. Or let pain get in the way of what needed to be done.
At the moment, he was glad for those things, since he was tumbling down a steep rocky slope, and if his life had been easier, he might not be able to bear the pain.
As if to prove his point, a jagged rock outcropping he was tumbling over tore open a wide swath of flesh across his chest.
No, Tzadok wasn’t afraid of pain. All he had ever wanted—all anyone from The Wasteland really wanted— was a chance to fight for their Keeper of Heart. It was a holy quest. The one thing about your life which was utterly unquestionable. It was the reason why the Wastelanders lived the kind of life they did.
Because sooner or later, everyone fought a fight they had to win. A fight which couldn’t be lost under any circumstances. Or their world would die.
The Coastal dogs had no such motivation or crucible to make them men. They had spent their days relaxing under the trees, raiding nearby Brightlighter settlements and drinking too much wine. They knew nothing of life on The Great Nothing. What it took to survive there. Or how precious a Keeper of Heart was to someone who had spent every day of his life without her.
As he continued to roll down the cliff, he caught sight of the bottom, which was lined with more rocks. He was able to get his feet under him at the last second, propelling himself around so that the man holding him acted as a shield from the crags.
The man hit the rocks with the sound of cracking bone and spilling blood, but Tzadok didn’t care. He rolled off the man’s corpse, spat out a mouthful of gravel and dust, then got to his feet.
He was ready to fight again.
Sadly, he’d lost his war hammer on the way down the mountain and a quick survey didn’t reveal the weapon’s location. But it was no matter. He’d simply take whatever armaments the first person who arrived at the bottom of the cliff carried.
Tzadok wasn’t picky. He could kill these weaklings with tableware if he had to.
A man appeared from the darkness, charging down the incline, holding a spear.
Perfect.
Tzadok quickly bent down and picked up one of the rocks, then threw it at the man’s head as hard as he could. The projectile smashed into the man, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling down the rockslide until he came to rest at Tzadok’s feet.
He casually picked up the spear and tested its weight. He made a face. Cheap Coastal People piece of shit.
Hopefully the next man who came to kill him would carry something better. Something an actual man wouldn’t be humiliated to be seen carrying, rather than this silly toy. But in the meantime, he stabbed this guy in the neck with it. Granted, the man had almost certainly died from the blow to the head, but Tzadok didn’t see a problem with making sure. When it came to Coastal People, they could never be dead enough.
Three more men appeared and Tzadok killed them so quickly it was almost sad. Honestly, whether they were trying to assassinate him or not, they were still Wastelanders. They were Tzadok’s countrymen and warriors under Tzadok’s command. And he felt deeply ashamed that such men had ever been part of his war parties.
Honestly, it just made killing them easier. If they’d fought like men, it would have been a reminder that their lives had some value. But since they were proved utterly weak, they didn’t really deserve to live in The Wasteland anyway.
The three remaining foreign hired killers emerged from the shadows and Tzadok got the sense that these men wouldn’t be quite so easy to kill.
Good.
Tzadok was still very, very angry. Simply killing three or four idiots wasn’t going to be enough. They had threatened his fucking Keeper of Heart! No. No, he needed to beat someone to death with his bare hands. They needed to feel their own deaths and who was dealing it to them.
He was going to murder them for scaring Tandrea. And they would recognize and lament that unpardonable sin before they died.
Tzadok tossed aside his weapon, which was currently a stolen Gallandish saber. Honestly, he hated the damn thing anyway. The “civilized” blacksmiths had made the blade from cheap pig iron. It was too fragile to use against the strong bones of a Wasteland warrior, not to mention the fact that the weight was off. It was essentially useless to him. Sometimes he suspected that no one in the world could make a proper instrument of death but the Saltmen.
“I Challenge.” He told the men simply, his teeth gritted. “All of you. Right now.” He braced his feet. “All or nothing!”
The men rushed him.
He leveled the one on the right with a left hook, but the other two crashed into him, driving their shoulders into his stomach and lifting him off the ground. Their momentum carried them all a short distance away, where they slammed Tzadok into a tree.
He brought both of his fists down onto the back of the man on the left’s head, dazing him.
The men dropped him to the ground again and as soon as Tzadok’s feet hit the leaves and stones, he was moving. He dove forward to tackle the unsteady man, before his companions could react. After several solid blows to the face, the man wouldn’t be a threat any longer. To anyone. Ever.
The remaining two men pulled him off, and the larger man hit him in the face. It was the blow of a warrior who had training at fighting and dying. Someone who knew how to hit a man in a way that it would hurt the most.
The men were probably from a fighting pit somewhere, hired on by the Coastal People as insurance.
Tzadok wasn’t worried about that. No one had to pay him to get him to fight to the death. He’d been doing it for free since he was seven.
That was simply how his life had gone. What life on The Great Nothing was when you were Lord of Salt.
Everyone wanted what you had. They were trying to take it from you, at all times. And if you wanted to keep it, you had to be ready to kill.
He ducked under the next blow, moving to the side and kicking the second man in the ribs. The man grunted in pain and stumbled away, while his larger companion swung out his fist again.
It was a clumsier strike this time. Like he wasn’t used to not finishing the fight with one punch and he was getting frustrated.
Tzadok moved his head downward so the man’s clenched fist smashed into his forehead, breaking the man’s hand on the thick bone of Tzadok’s skull.
The man let out an anguished howl of pain and backed away, looking down at his ruined hand and babbling foreign nonsense.
Tzadok smiled, the blood from his many cuts spilling down his face.
Yes. Yes, this was how the fight for a Keeper of Heart should be. Bloody and brutal.
The
smaller man rushed forward and tried to throw a wild haymaker, which Tzadok easily dodged. He caught the man’s arm and twisted it around, intending to break it.
The larger man shook off the pain of the broken hand, and charged towards him again. Before he got the chance to do anything though, Tandy dashed out of the darkness, seemingly materializing from nowhere, and jumped onto the huge man’s back. At first, Tzadok assumed it was an incredibly ill-advised attempt to join in the fight to even the odds, but the woman didn’t appear to be trying to harm the ringer at all.
In either case, the man shook her off and turned to hit her, but she was already up on her feet and dashing back into the darkness.
Tzadok squinted down at the empty spot on the man’s belt where there had formally hung a sack of coins. He turned to gape after his prize in complete and total bafflement. “You’re stealing from him!?!” He cried after her. “Now!?! But… But…” He let out a helpless confused sound, completely at a loss as to why his prize had decided to become a pickpocket. “You’re so fucking weird, Tandy!” He laughed, unable to come up with any other reaction. “I just don’t understand you at…”
The larger man crashed into him, knocking him to the ground, at which point the fight started to get really brutal.
Good.
Chapter Sixteen:
Counting the Dead
Ten minutes before
It wasn’t that Tandy had any idea where she was going, just that she knew that she wanted to get there as quickly as possible.
Kobb had suggested following the riverbed, but that wasn’t the direction the noise of death and violence was coming from, which meant that Tzadok hadn’t gone that way. So there was no way in the world that Tandy was going that way. Instead, she just followed the carnage.
The safest place in the world was next to him, she was sure of it. Kobb may believe in a self-sacrifice kind of mentality, but Tandy figured that in a fight to the death, you were better off staying close to the toughest man around. For one thing, he’d be the best bet for staying alive. And for another… he might need her help. She was genuinely worried about him. And not just because she’d be out of a job if he died.
The dark-haired woman did not approve of the decision. <”We’re going the wrong way.”> She informed Tandy for the dozenth time. <”He said that we should follow the riverbed!”>
Tandy snorted in amazement. “
“
“
“
“
“
Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off by the sudden arrival of two men in front of them.
For a split-second, all four people in the small clearing stared at each other motionless, surprised and trying to decide what to do. Then the men dashed forward, eager to grab Tandy and drag her back to the Coastal People.
And yes, probably abduct the dark-haired woman too. But Tandy was pretty certain this was all about her, honestly. They were just trying to abduct the Gallandish woman as an afterthought, but Tandy was the real purpose behind this entire operation. And that wasn’t demented pride talking. That was simple logic.
Once again, the power of translational services could have an incredible effect on peoples who had never before encountered someone who had mastered the art form. A professional interpreter was always in demand, it seemed.
It was such a dangerous but desperately vital profession.
The dark-haired woman grabbed her knife from her boot, swearing viciously.
The men were almost upon them now…
Something suddenly struck the head of the man on the left, knocking him off his feet. A spray of blood and brain showered his companion like a gruesome rainstorm of gore, and the second man stumbled to the side in shock.
Kobb barreled from the thick underbrush, spinning his makeshift idol mace, and jumping over the corpse of the man on the left.
The second attacker retreated a few steps, trying to put more distance between them.
Kobb didn’t give him the chance though.
The man swung out his sword in an attempt to decapitate Kobb, but Kobb ducked under the blade and spun around to slam his push knife into the man’s lower thigh, above the knee.
The man screamed and stumbled back, hacking his sword down, but Kobb rolled out of the way and tossed his mace so that the chain wrapped around and around the man’s legs. The attacker fell to the ground in a heap.
Kobb prowled forward, pulling the man up by the back of the head.
The man started pleading something in rapid Wastelandi, which Tandy couldn’t catch.
Kobb nodded in understanding, then growled something in reply.
A twig cracked under the dark-haired woman’s boot, drawing their attention and both men turned to look at her for a moment.
Kobb turned back to the attacker, meeting the man’s gaze.
The attacker swore, eyes widening in panic upon recognizing something in Kobb’s face which terrified him. He tried to break free, but wasn’t quick enough. Kobb drove his push knife straight through the side of the man’s skull, then yanked his blade free. He let the man’s body drop to the ground. “I am Kobb, The Thirty-Two Hundred and Ten.” He absently kicked the man’s bleeding corpse, sending it sprawling like a puppet with its strings cut. “And you don’t touch mine.”
“
Kobb looked at the weapon she was holding out against him and slowly raised his hands to show that he meant her no harm.
The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes. “
Kobb made a show of glancing down at the scars which marked his arm, where she’d stabbed him three weeks ago.
The woman frowned. <”…anymore.>” She added, finishing the thought.
Kobb seemed oddly pleased with that and straightened. He turned to glare at Tandy. “Didn’t I tell you to keep to the riverbed?”
“They’re going to kill Tzadok!” She protested.
“My nephew can take care of himself.” He wrapped the chain of his idol mace around his wrist a couple of times. “I will go deal with the men,” he pointed at the dark-haired woman, “you need to get her out of here. Now.” His voice hardened, sounding almost
desperate. “She can’t be here, Tandy.”
“They are going to kill Tzadok.” Tandy repeated, shaking her head resolutely. “I am not leaving here without him.” She met his eyes. “You can’t do this alone. Either of you. And you know it. That’s why you want us to run, because you don’t think you’re going to make it out of here. You think you’re going to die. But if we go to the riverbed without you, we’re as good as dead too. We don’t know the way back and there are a lot of men chasing us.” She shook her head. “We need you both if we’re going to survive this, because we’re as good as dead without you. And Tzadok needs help right now, which means we all need to go over there.” She met his eyes. “You know I’m right.”
Kobb didn’t reply to that for a moment, looking uncertain and... scared. He glanced back and forth from their little group to where Tzadok was fighting. “Just… just…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just please try not to get hurt, okay? I don’t want to be the one to tell my nephew that I got his Heart killed in battle.”
“No one ‘lets’ me do anything, Kobb.” She told him seriously. “I make my choices. I deal with the consequences. And I’m going to find Tzadok.”
He made a non-committal sound and started to move towards the noise of battle. “The girl either.” He added quickly. “Do not let her get hurt, Tandy, I mean it.”
Personally, Tandy didn’t see there being much danger in that. Unless she strangled the woman herself, that is.
“
Kobb frowned and looked at Tandy. “
Tandy opened her mouth to reply to that, but didn’t get the chance. There was a small noise from the rise in front of them, across the clearing, and Kobb swore. He dashed in front of the dark-haired woman. “No!” He pushed her back and a split-second later, an arrow struck him in the chest.
Captive of a Fairytale Barbarian Page 34
