Death's Chosen (First Cohort Book 3)

by M. R. Anthony

  I caught the eyes of one or two – they were petrified of what had happened and also of what lay before them. An old man with a beard met my stare and I saw the proudness of a man who’d lived his life without having anything to atone for. He was chained to an equally old woman. Her eyes were empty, as if she’d retreated within herself. She looked far gone and I didn’t know if she’d ever be able to come back.

  “Thank you,” said the man simply.

  “How many burning-men are there?” I asked

  “Forty? Fifty?” he said. “I don’t know.”

  I raised my voice so that it carried to all of the prisoners. “Find a blacksmith who’ll break your bonds and leave here at once. Go to Blades. The Saviour has come and she welcomes all of her people.”

  A few of them nodded. Most of them just stared dumbly, while some of the children continued to weep. I swore under my breath. I would be damned if I let these children die simply because they lacked guidance from the adults with them. I ordered Sinnar, Weevil and Beamer to drag a thick log away from the second pyre and bring it over.

  “Break their chains,” I said.

  Ploster was nearby, watching us, yet with a distance to his vision that told me he was searching for something. “They’re gathering,” he said. “They’re surprisingly well-trained.”

  I heard the first solid clink as Sinnar broke one of the chains over the log with a downward swing of his sword.

  “There are probably too many of them if they all come at once,” I said.

  “I don’t think they relish another confrontation,” he said with a half-smile. “This far from Cinder, who is foolish enough to risk his life for something his superiors need never hear about?”

  There was no sign of organised activity along any of the side streets within my line of sight. The townsfolk were still here. Most of them carried dazed expressions – they’d seen men in authority being killed and now they had no idea what to do or what to think. I ignored them, since their presence would make it harder for the burning-men to launch a counterattack.

  It didn’t take long for the chains to be broken. To my relief, several of the former prisoners ran away at once. I spoke briefly to the others.

  “If you stay, you’ll die. Those men will come back and they will burn you slowly. We are leaving Holnret, so there is no one to stop them now.”

  “Death by burning is the most excruciating way to die you can possibly imagine,” said Ploster. “There is nothing worse they can do to you if you choose to run.”

  The message got through and the prisoners left, all bar two men of middle years. They sat glumly together and wouldn’t meet my eyes. I left them there. Sometimes you do all you can and it’s still not enough. We’d done our part for them and I would have no guilt for their deaths. Beamer’s broad face held a mixture of sorrow, pity and anger at the two men. I’m sure it was exactly what we were all thinking.

  “We’re leaving,” I told them. “Craddock’s not here – he’d not have stood for this either.”

  “Aye, James couldn’t have watched that, for sure,” said Sinnar.

  We left the square – this time the crowds parted for us like we were the prow of a large ship surging through the ocean’s swell. The burning-men didn’t attack us as we made our way through the streets. We saw two small groups of them. I guess news had travelled fast and they made no hostile moves. I thought of asking Ploster to set a few more of them alight. In the end, I refrained. It wasn’t through any sympathy for them. While I’d have happily burned all of the bastards, it seemed wise to keep the Cohort’s sorcerer as fresh as possible for whatever lay ahead of us.

  Soon, Holnret was behind us and there was no sign of any pursuit. We’d not been in the town for long, but it had been enough for the last of the snow to melt, leaving only a few scattered vestiges of its passing in the places where it had been deepest. With no footprints or tracks to follow, we set off to the north-east, eschewing the use of the narrow road and marching alongside it instead.

  15

  We didn’t catch up with the rest of the First Cohort on that day. It was already getting towards late afternoon when we withdrew from Holnret. Winter was in retreat, but the nights still began much earlier than I’d have wished and the mornings started much later. The range of hills continued and the road veered away to take a more direct path east, forcing us to abandon it completely. With that last sign of civilisation gone from sight, we found ourselves in a place as desolate as any we’d found in Duke Warmont’s lands.

  That evening, we camped in one of the shallow valleys that divided the hills. We sat a little way from another of the wide streams that provided drainage for the melting snow. Since there was no sign of life, I thought it safe enough to light a fire. I’d have preferred a bit more cover but thought the risks of being seen by anyone or anything hostile were slight.

  For a while, we talked about nothing much in particular, just making sounds to remind ourselves that we still existed. I thought that a few lumps of skewered mutton over the fire would have improved morale immeasurably and cursed myself that I hadn’t bought some provisions before we’d freed the prisoners in Holnret. An ale or two would have gone down nicely as well, I thought wryly.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Captain. Just never got around to it. Those things we saw underground and in Solking. What were they? We’ve seen some bad things before, yet I’ve no idea what they were.”

  “I haven’t seen anything like it either, Weevil,” I said. “The Empire is vast and so much of it is hardly ever visited by men or women. There could be things hiding out of sight. Like that creature we fought on the way back from Blades when we had Gagnol’s life essence.”

  “I think what I’m trying to ask, is why now? If they’ve been hidden for so long, why are they suddenly coming and biting the fingers off villagers out in the arse end of nowhere?”

  “And what’s to say they aren’t popping up in other little villages like Solking, only we don’t know about it because we’ve not been through those places?” said Beamer.

  I considered the question and found I had no answer to give. At least none that I’d be satisfied to speak. Ploster intervened.

  “Something’s up. I can feel it. The Saviour has come and the Empire is beginning to crumble. At the same time, the Northmen have invaded – they want something, I’m certain of it. That skeleton we found in the stone coffin – it looked like a Northman. Then there was that creature which killed Tinker. This can’t all be a coincidence. There’s something happening in the world that might well kill every living person.”

  “You really think so, Corporal?” asked Weevil.

  “I am worried,” he said. “Give me back the days when we had nothing to worry about apart from a skirmish against one of the Duke’s rebellious towns.”

  “The good old days, eh?” asked Sinnar, knowing full well that none of us would ever go back to what had been before.

  “The good old days of murdering the people we’ll now risk ourselves to save,” I said, immediately regretting the words. None of the others seemed to notice that I’d dampened the mood.

  “Do you think the Emperor will have any answers for us?” asked Weevil.

  “Malleus only says what he wants you to hear. He might tell us everything he knows, or he might be evasive and tell us nothing,” I replied.

  “Assuming he knows anything,” said Beamer.

  “He’ll know more than we do,” I assured him. “You can’t keep an Empire together for over two hundred and fifty years without hearing everything there is to hear.”

  “Sounds like the Northmen caught him by surprise,” said Sinnar. “I shouldn’t gloat, but for some reason it makes me feel better to think that there are some things that Malleus doesn’t get right.”

  I chuckled at that. For some reason, it was reassuring to be reminded that the Emperor did indeed have failings. Of course, it looked like his Empire was on the brink, so he might shortly be learning all about his
failings.

  “Or he might defeat the Northmen before we arrive and then slaughter anyone he thinks has plotted against him,” said Ploster.

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said. “This doesn’t feel like it’s going to be an easy situation to resolve. At least he’s going to be distracted from the Saviour. If we’re all lucky, we might survive long enough to reach Blades again and see what we can do to build up against the Emperor. He’ll come for her eventually.”

  Our conversation was interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Eyeball. His outline shimmered briefly and then he was there in front of us. “Good evening, fellows,” he said by way of introduction. “Lieutenant Craddock is camped over that hill. He’s got a few good men with him, so I’m told, and he requests the pleasure of your company.”

  We got to our feet and took it in turns to shake his hand. The questions came in a flood from each of us and Eyeball had to wave us to silence. “The lads are together and intact,” he said. “It’s not safe here, so we should leave now and the Lieutenant can tell you what you need to know. If that’s fine, Captain?” he finished.

  “Let’s go,” I said by way of acceptance. I kicked at the fire to scatter it and then trod on the remains of the burning wood until the embers died. If Eyeball said it wasn’t safe, I was willing to take him at his word until we got to a place where we could talk.

  We set off at a careful pace, with none of us wanting to snap an ankle so close to our goal. Eyeball’s description of the distance was passably accurate and within an hour we’d joined with the rest of the men. I’d not seen a single sentry on the way and silently commended them for their skill in remaining undetected. Lieutenant Craddock had made camp at the base of a low crag and there were no fires. As we wended our way through the tightly-grouped tents, I greeted those of the men I was able to make out in the darkness. It was hard to see faces, but I recognized the murmuring voices as I passed close. The camp stirred as they realised that we’d made it back to them, and I heard many footsteps following behind.

  “Lieutenant Craddock’s this way,” said Eyeball.

  We reached the centre of the camp. A shape was standing, waiting silently for us. It came forward and embraced each of us in turn – clasping arms around our shoulders. “Good to see you,” said Lieutenant Craddock to us all. “We’d begun to think you’d gone for good.”

  “Not a hope of that,” said Sinnar, shaking Craddock’s hand for good measure. “Not while things are left unfinished.”

  Other men of the Cohort came closer and I shook many a hand and answered many a question. After a while, I dismissed them, since I had much to ask Craddock about.

  “What’s all this about it not being safe?” I asked him, eager to hear about anything that might put the men in danger.

  “War, Captain. I think it’s already started,” Craddock replied. “We nearly ran into some of Callian’s troops earlier today. Ten thousand of them going north – towards the border. They were well organized and on another day, we might not have escaped notice.”

  “Are they close now?” I asked.

  “They should be several miles to our north, I reckon. Still, it pays to be cautious, so we’re sitting in darkness.”

  “What happened in the tower?” I asked. “The ladder broke and we couldn’t join you.”

  “The Flesh Shaper broke through the wards outside and started knocking on the front door. A shame for him that the Pyromancer hadn’t finished what he’d started. When the fire came, we scrapped our way out and ran to the north. Terrax must have relied on his magic for too long – he could have done a better job of keeping us holed up until whatever was left of Callian’s troops got there. If he’d done that, we might have had a harder time getting away.”

  “Any casualties?” I asked.

  “Nothing more than you’d already seen. We had to leave our spears behind. When the time came we had to go.”

  I winced at that and Craddock had the good grace to look embarrassed. It was a blunder I didn’t expect from us. There was no reason to berate him for the oversight. Sometimes events overtook you and errors could happen.

  “You got the men out. That’s what matters.”

  “So I keep telling myself. What happened to Tinker?” he asked.

  “Dead,” I said. “There were things living in the tunnels beneath the tower. Nothing like we’ve seen before. We found a circlet that Corporal Ploster used to drive the creature away that killed Tinker. There was the skeleton of a Northman, too. The rest of it can wait. Is there any Grask?”

  “None to be found, Captain. We stopped off in a little town a couple of days back. Holnret. They’d never heard of Grask.”

  “We went through it. Did you see the burning-men?”

  “We had no trouble, if that’s what you mean. We bought all their tents and left at once. It didn’t feel like we were welcome.”

  “You weren’t. There was just too many of you for Callian’s murderers to do anything about. It sounds like they kept their heads down. We’ll raise a drink for Tinker when we can. Lieutenant Sinnar had a thimbleful in a hip flask. Not enough for everyone to have a go.” There were other spirits that were almost as unpalatable as the Grask, yet nothing else would do. There are some traditions that are so ingrained that you can’t imagine breaking them.

  “Captain? I take it that war is inevitable?” asked Craddock.

  “It’s looking that way,” I said. “Those men you saw marching north? There’s no other need for them to be here except to fight.”

  “I wonder how many of his nobles are involved and how many will dare show their hands.”

  “We’re blind, Lieutenant. All of this could have begun years ago. Decades, even. When you live for hundreds of years, you can afford to play long.”

  “Perhaps it’s why the Emperor stayed so loyal to Warmont,” mused Ploster. “An ally on the borders of Vaks and Callian would be invaluable.”

  “Malleus is a canny one, right enough,” I said. “Think of how long he kept up his support for the Duke when it appeared as if the only sensible option was to depose him.”

  “Why did he want him dead at the end?” asked Sinnar. “All that effort to keep the old bastard in power and then to have rid at the last moment.”

  “The Gloom Bringer could have been lying to us, but I have this feeling that she was loyal. Maybe I’m wrong, or maybe the Emperor realised that our lady would be a more dangerous opponent to Vaks and Callian. If she and the Duke had fought to a standstill, there’d be no one capable of fighting his treacherous nobles. Better to have Warmont killed and let the Saviour take power.”

  “The crafty bastard,” said Ploster, chuckling.

  “All of this makes it likely that the Emperor didn’t wish to send his troops to Warmont’s aid. Either because he couldn’t spare them or he feared that they’d somehow get intercepted and murdered on their way through Callian’s domain,” I said.

  “I thought you hated politics, Captain,” said Craddock jokingly.

  “I do, James. But I understand them. That’s why I hate them so much.”

  “There’s going to be death, isn’t there?”

  “Lots of it. The skies are going to be filled with crows as far as the eye can see. The living are going to face each other, but they’re also going to face the dead. I pity those who will be caught up in it and I think there will be few who escape.”

  “How things have changed for us,” said Sinnar. “To think how long we revelled in the bloodshed. And now? I just want it to be over.”

  “As do we all, Lieutenant,” I said.

  “What will we do when we finish?” asked Craddock.

  It was a question I’d heard many times before – mostly spoken around the campfires amongst the men. The Saviour had given our lives hope and meaning, but those existed only in the present. We needed to know what would happen at the end, so that there was something to keep us going when the odds were stacked too much against us. Without a dream to
live for, death itself can become the only goal. I didn’t want to lose any more of us to that. I’d seen the peace in the faces of my soldiers when they’d died and although it assuaged motes of my own guilt for our past, I’d started to believe that if we came through this we deserved more than death.

  “We’ll go south. When the time comes and the Saviour releases us, we’ll cross the Deeping Sea and we’ll march until there’s no one who has heard of the Empire. We’ll find a land where there is no death and we’ll see if we can find our peace.”

  “Wherever we go, there is death,” said Ploster.

  “We can’t let ourselves believe that, Jon! You of all people know that the men deserve better than an infinity of war.”

  “Aye, Tyrus, you’re right and I apologise. When this is finished, south it is and I’ll come along with a glad heart and a hope that we can find what we’re looking for.”

  We spent a while longer in discussion. Beamer and Weevil wandered off, doubtless to tell everyone who’d listen about the plans to travel south. I let them get on with it, since there was no more efficient way of spreading information than giving it to a soldier. They had a knack of learning everything that was going on, sometimes before I even knew it myself. Not that I kept secrets, it was just that I didn’t like to say one thing and later find I had to go back on my word if circumstances dictated it. Soldiers prefer certainty, which was odd in a world where they had none. In the early hours, I rose with the intention of finding myself somewhere to rest.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have enough tents for everyone, Captain,” said Craddock. “We cleaned Holnret right out of them and we still only managed to get eighty. I’d offer you mine, except that I don’t have one.”

  That was the epitome of Craddock. He was a good man who would go without so that his soldiers could have comfort. I told him it didn’t matter – I had no more right to have my own shelter than anyone else and I certainly wasn’t going to take another man’s tent. I found a space on the ground that wasn’t too lumpy and I lay there on my back, staring up at the stars above. The moon was little more than a sliver and not for the first time I was happy that its light was not sufficient to reveal our presence. And so I lay for a while, until my own restless mind and the stirring of the camp dictated that it was time to greet a new day.