Strength of Swords (First Cohort Book 2)

by M. R. Anthony

  We took a right-hand turn, followed quickly by a left and we emerged into a wide, high-ceilinged foyer. There were guards here, in smaller groups and not paying heed to anything apart from their own gossip. If they’d been my own men, I would not have been pleased at their lack of attention. We ran through at full pelt, barging them out of the way as we approached the ten-feet wide opening that would take us outside to the courtyard. The main doors were metal-banded dark wood – almost more metal than wood – and they had been swung back and pinned open as I’d expected them to be. We flew through, taking in more than one gaping expression of surprise. We of the First Cohort were easily recognizable and I couldn’t imagine that there were many of the Duke’s soldiers who hadn’t yet heard that we’d changed sides.

  As we cleared the gate, one of the guards reacted faster than his fellows and he stuck out a foot, catching Chant unawares and sending him face-first to the tight cobbles of the courtyard. Beamer wasn’t able to use his sword, since it was in his other hand, but he crunched his fist into the side of the guard’s unprotected head, catapulting him from his feet with the force of the blow. Our momentum carried us over the tumbling body of Chant and I saw him scrambling to his feet as I went by. Surprise was still with us and none of the guards had yet drawn their swords, though their interest was now firmly in our direction.

  The courtyard was huge – even bigger than you might have imagined it to be from outside the keep walls. There were blacksmiths and armourers set up along one of the walls and I knew the Duke kept them operational even during times of peace. He’d always been proud of the strength of this bastion and kept it prepared in case of a siege from without.

  About eighty yards from us, the exit gates that would take us to the streets of Blades were visible and we ran for them. It wasn’t just soldiers who were evident in the courtyard – there were citizens of the city as well, delivering all the goods necessary to keep a place this size operational. We shoulder charged a number of them aside, ignoring the curses from the unfortunates we’d hurled to the ground.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw that Chant had recovered his footing and was trying his best to catch up with us. He struggled for grip on the smooth stone of the cobbles and was now being jostled by a group of townsfolk, who must have thought they were doing their civic duty in trying to apprehend a man who was clearly up to no good. Chant kneed one of the group in the balls and the recipient collapsed, wheezing. The soldier was broad and thickset and was able to muscle his way free. He pushed two others away as he struggled up to speed, before leaping over a second outstretched foot which sought to trip him.

  I continued my run, with our straggler twenty yards behind. I didn’t want to have to stop for him, but told myself we were all going to get away from the keep, no matter what it took and even if it meant sacrificing the opportunity to use the prize we’d stolen from the Duke and the Gloom Bringer. Loyalty was more important than anything else.

  We came near to the main gates through the outer walls. They were similar in appearance to those on the keep and also wedged open. It was my experience that soldiers assigned to guard something are far more likely to be looking outwards than they are to be looking inwards and this was the case here. There were two guardsmen chatting to a man pulling a cart. Grids and Bolt sprinted through the middle, scattering all three to the ground and giving we who followed a straight path out. Over my shoulder, I could see that Chant was still after us, though there was every indication that several pursuing soldiers from the courtyard had been joined by the sizable force from the keep that we’d encountered not long before.

  I paused for a moment, Weevil waiting with me. We had our swords at the ready and stood there until we were sure that Chant was going to escape. He sprinted past and we turned to follow, but not before I’d seen that there were at least fifty of the Duke’s soldiers coming for us. I couldn’t imagine that news of Warmont’s death had reached them yet, but they still had a duty to capture or kill anyone they knew to have been trespassing where they weren’t permitted.

  We ran over the wide plaza outside the keep. The sun was rising, but it was still half-dark and the hour was earlier than most people rose from their beds. As a consequence of this, there were not large numbers of people for us to struggle through before we reached one of the side streets that Grids had decided to make haste towards. There were a few cries of alarm at our sight, but to my relief we didn’t need to kill anyone as we traversed the square. In my mind, these people were not the enemy and though I would have used my sword if necessary, it would have been with reluctance and I am sure that I would have felt guilt afterwards.

  We entered the street which Grids had chosen. We all knew the city well, so I assumed that he hadn’t selected this one at random. The buildings to our sides were two-storey in height, but seemed to loom above us as if their walls were poorly-made and leaned outwards at an angle. They cut out much of the early light of the rising sun, but we were able to travel without worry that we’d trip over objects that we couldn’t see. There were people here, walking to and fro on their business. Blades had been a martial city for so long, that the sight of a group of armed men didn’t cause undue alarm, nor did it prompt anyone to try and slow our progress. Presumably it was safer and easier to assume we were on the Duke’s business, than to categorize us as escaping fugitives. The pack of soldiers in our wake would soon inform them that we were wanted men.

  I guessed we were at least thirty yards ahead of our pursuers, but we were tireless and we weren’t wearing any heavy armour that would slow us down or make us ungainly as we dodged around the people on the street. Ten yards ahead, Grids turned abruptly to the left, into a much narrower lane that could only just fit two people abreast. We remained in single file so that we could get past the people we came upon and once or twice Grids had to push someone roughly out of our way when they meandered slowly and aimlessly into our path.

  The direction we had escaped was to the south, which wasn’t the way we needed to go. Grids was evidently aware of this and his new route took us west - I assumed he would take us to the north as soon as it became convenient to do so. I was still at the rear of our group and therefore able to see how quickly the chasing soldiers fell behind. It wasn’t easy to run in armour for long and I was certain that most of the regulars in Warmont’s army were in less than tip-top physical shape. A man who can march all day isn’t necessarily capable of running for an extended period.

  After only five minutes, the men who followed were no longer visible. I had no doubt that they still searched for us, but to all intents and purposes they were not a threat any more. Regardless, we had no need to slow down and continued for another ten minutes, until Grids changed direction once more and took us to the north. We kept to the narrower streets on the basis that they were sparsely travelled by the city’s people and it was also less likely that we’d run into overwhelming numbers of soldiers. The Duke had many means of communicating that didn’t involve delivering messages on foot, but I felt that his death would have resulted in a great deal of confusion amongst his ranks. I wracked my brain, but couldn’t think who he had left that could assume command of his men. I’d been out of the politics for so long that I didn’t know which of his old officers still lived and which had been sent out to some god-forsaken shit hole to die in a battle against men who were actually motivated enough to win.

  After a time, I shouted ahead that we should stop. We’d been running to the northern area of the city for a number of minutes at this point and hadn’t come across any more than a scattered handful of soldiers. Several of them had stared at us with suspicion, but none were in a large enough group that they thought it worthwhile risking their lives to ask who we were or what we were doing. The justiciars were not in evidence, but I think that most of them preferred to rise from their beds late. If we’d come close to one of them, I’d have probably murdered the bastard just for the sake of it.

  I used our pause to assume the lead posi
tion and put Ploster to my side. We sheathed our swords for the time being, since they had started to draw almost constant stares, but we kept our daggers close at hand. The dim light of dawn had gradually increased until its battle with the darkness of night was won for the day. The streets weren’t quite teeming and given what I knew about the city, it didn’t surprise me that there weren’t enough people to fill the thoroughfares at what should have been the busiest time of day. Most of the people we saw were women and I got the attention of one – a lady of middle years in clothes that weren’t rags, but not finely cut either.

  “Could you tell me if any of the Duke’s men have marched recently?” I asked her.

  She crinkled her nose at us, though not disdainfully. “North,” she said. “He’s sent a lot of men north. If you’re hoping to join with them, you’re at least a week too late, I’m afraid.”

  I didn’t bother to ask if she was able to quantify how many men was comprised in a lot. Even a trained soldier’s estimates of the size of an army could be woefully inaccurate and for my purposes, it was sufficient to know that men had gone forth from Blades. I thanked her and was about to move on, when she spoke again.

  “Mind, it looks like a nasty business this time,” she said. “They’ve got Lord Trent with them. Everyone’s talking about it. That can’t be good news for whoever the Duke is fighting.” I thanked her once more and we took our leave.

  “I thought Lord Trent had fucked off to the south years ago,” said Ploster.

  “Me too,” I said. “Maybe the Duke’s had to call some of his old hands back to the fight.”

  “He must have been getting desperate,” Ploster replied. “Before we killed him, that is.”

  I clapped him on the back in belated celebration of our victory. “The Duke may be dead, but who knows what will rush to fill the void?”

  “The Gloom Bringer wasn’t forthcoming about the Emperor’s plans,” said Ploster. “But the fact that Malleus wished to kill the Duke gives us information that we should consider.”

  “I can’t see the Emperor arranging Warmont’s death without having something planned. He won’t want this part of his Empire to fall into chaos, nor to be taken over by an army of rebels. It would be a stupid man who would allow that to happen and we both know that Malleus is not lacking in intelligence.”

  “There are two possibilities which I think are the most likely,” Ploster speculated. “Either the Emperor had given instruction for the Gloom Bringer to rule in the Duke’s stead, or there is already an army heading in this direction from Hardened.”

  “I can’t immediately think of more likely possibilities,” I admitted. “Yet neither of those ideas sit easy with me. If Malleus were to have an army on the way, I am sure that the Duke would have caught wind of it. The man pretended that all was well between him and the Emperor, but it seems likely that he kept a close watch on his back. I would not describe Malleus as treacherous, but he is definitely ruthless. I’ll wager that the Duke’s struggles have been the cause of consternation in Hardened for many years, if not decades. The Emperor has always taken the long view, but his patience must have been stretched to breaking point.”

  “Why do you think that the Gloom Bringer wouldn’t have made a good replacement?” Ploster asked.

  “I am not sure,” I said. “Perhaps she would have made a solid short-term ruler until the Emperor’s chosen man or woman arrived, but I don’t think he would have selected her as a permanent replacement. His Death Sorcerers have always been used for other things, such as imposing the Emperor’s will on the smaller scale. Most of them are not trained tacticians and I have always known them to act under instruction, rather than providing that instruction themselves.”

  “It would be a shame if we were not able to take advantage of the situation,” he said. “When our enemy is in confusion, it can only be good for us.”

  “The rest of our men are a long way to the north,” I replied. “Almost a month, assuming we are not held up by the unexpected.”

  “Do you think that Lieutenant Craddock will have remained in Gold?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “There’s nothing to stay there for, apart from ash and the stench of smoke. But there’s also uncertainty if he leads the men away. The only important thing is for him to keep our forces together and to protect them from destruction if they encounter superior numbers.”

  “We should be able to overtake the last army the Duke sent out,” Ploster said with confidence. “I wonder how many the Duke was able to muster for that expedition. He must have been down to the bare bones.”

  “It seemed like he had unlimited men he could deploy, but that can only have been an illusion. It may be that these men we have heard about are the last big force he could bring together for the foreseeable future. We don’t even know how many soldiers he sent forth. It seems probable they’ll run into the remnants of Leerfar’s army as well. If my calculations are correct, that is.”

  “I wonder if Leerfar’s men will join with them. I’m sure they will be most displeased if they are ordered to walk north again.” Ploster laughed at the idea.

  “If Leerfar was with them, there would have been no one left with the authority to command her to turn about and go to Gold once more. I doubt Warmont’s Fourth would have much appetite left for that course of action.”

  “We find ourselves in the unenviable position of having plenty of questions and very few answers,” Ploster said.

  “That is true and to add to the frustration, we are thirty days’ fast march away from being in a position where we will be able to influence events further. And after that, we are faced with the likelihood that we’ll need to fight another large force from Blades. Soldiers who are fighting for a dead man, but who don’t yet realise that their leader is gone.”

  Ploster chuckled again. “And you don’t like the uncertainty, Captain. I can hear it in your voice and see it in the way your hand reaches time and again for the sword at your belt.”

  “I’ll not deny it,” I replied. “I itch to be in a position where I can feel in control again.”

  At that point, the dictates of our route lead us onto a busy street and our conversation was interrupted by the sounds of daily life and by our need to wend around people who seemed determined to blindly walk in front of us at every opportunity. Even with the crowds, we maintained a good pace and soon we were amongst the buildings that marked the edge of the city.

  I’d long ago discovered that news can travel faster than a galloping horse, but there was none of the hubbub I’d have expected to hear once the Duke’s death became common knowledge. The roads into the city hadn’t been heavily guarded when we’d arrived, but on this occasion, there was a group of four soldiers who loitered in the shadows of the last buildings before the city ended and the surrounding countryside began. They saw us, but didn’t show any concern. The closest of the men even gave me a nod of acknowledgement as one soldier to another. I looked at him without challenge and returned the greeting. With that, we left the city of Blades. The Duke was dead and his armies would likely soon be in disarray, but in my head I was unable to decide if our trip had been a success or not.

  14

  Prior to our arrival at Blades, with twenty-one men, rather than the eight of us who remained, we’d taken temporary refuge in a cattle shed a mile or so outside of the city. We headed there, since we’d also concealed our shields close by and I thought it best for us to recover them. The shed wasn’t far and it was on our route, so there was no reason for us to leave the shields behind.

  We found the place easily enough and squeezed our way through the hedge that separated the road from the fields. I’d have preferred it if we’d been able to remain unseen, but there were plenty of people travelling and we got one or two curious stares as we pushed our way through the gap. It was of little concern, since I didn’t plan that we’d be staying for long.

  “Look Captain,” said Eyeball. “There’s that spy I killed. It doesn’t look as tho
ugh anyone’s found him.”

  I looked at the place he’d indicated and sure enough, the man’s body was lying exactly where we’d left it – carelessly hidden, but not exactly hard to find.

  “Who knows?” I shrugged. “I won’t shed a tear for him lying here unburied.”

  We recovered our shields from where we’d stashed them. I’d been concerned that someone might have found and stolen them, but as soon as I’d seen the dead man I’d known that they’d be exactly where we’d left them. We had no qualms about using each other’s shields, but a man gets used to certain things and it was a relief when I picked up what I’d mentally classed as my shield. I saw the others rooting through the pile - I wasn’t alone in my superstition.

  “Man, it feels good to have this again,” said Beamer. He made a few practise lunges and blocks with his shield.

  “Yeah, you don’t realise how shit you feel without one until you get it back,” said Bolt, as he pulled out his own shield. His arm looked too damaged to wear a shield properly after our encounter with the Duke, but he kept it anyway.

  “I know I’ll be pissed off with it in an hour when it’s started to catch my legs, but until then, I’m not going to complain,” said Weevil. He tried to hang it from his pack, before realising that he didn’t have one. “Ah fuck,” he said. “We’ve got no body armour and no packs. So we’ve got the next month of sleeping without a tent and in the day we’ll have to sling our shields over our arms. That’s not what I call a happy march.”