“You have to admire his tenacity though. It takes real determination to twist the neck of a ewe all the way around…multiple times, until it pops off. We could use such single-mindedness.”
“It’s clearly his only mindedness.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Bess winked. “He’s perfect.”
Kaede shrugged. “Who’s the greater fool, I ask. The fool or the one who trusts in him?”
Bess raised her hand and bluish sparks danced at her fingertips, winking out as she clenched her fist. “It’s not him we’re trusting in, remember?”
Kaede opened his mouth to respond but the throng erupted. He returned to the alley’s mouth and looked to the gallows. They watched while the villagers pushed forward and howled for the sheep-strangler’s death despite thinking the punishment a bit extreme for a drunken dalliance with a farm animal. If folks started hanging men for that then half the population of rural Sansut would be swinging by the neck come morning. The man currently dancing at the end of the rope fidgeted, eyes widening in panic as the mood darkened and the gravity of his circumstances settled over him.
“I was framed,” he shouted, his voice raw and barely audible over the shouts of the crowd. “It was the man in black who did it. No, it was the Wool Fairy.” He clearly didn’t know how much trouble he was in.
“Oh, this one is brilliant,” Bess said with a laugh, muffling the sound against her sleeve.
“As much as I hate to admit it you just might be right about him after all.”
The crowd roared louder as each excuse tumbled from his mouth and the doomed man flailed in the grip of his executioner, face growing redder and redder, spittle flying until he’d worked up a froth and looked ready to keel over.
“Silence!”
The word was a scythe, cutting a swath through the assemblage and bringing even the loudest of the villagers to heel. It was as if a bucket of rain water had been dumped atop burning coals, only an impotent hiss steaming loose in the aftermath. Bess’s gaze slipped to the willowy man who strode across the morbid stage, his plain gray robes fluttering in the breeze behind him. The silver amulet of his authority gleamed, a star of righteousness hung upon his narrow chest. It reflected the sunlight with his every step. He stopped alongside the condemned and steepled his weathered hands before him, staring from beneath furrowed brows. Disgust tinged his weathered features. Their eyes met and the quiet stretched on until, at last, the magistrate cleared his throat.
“You have been charged with destruction of the mayor’s property and lewd and indecent acts upon an animal…”
“Three animals is what I heard, not that anyone is counting. Except me, apparently,” Bess added under her breath. “Impressive stamina though.”
“…and have been found guilty, caught red handed…”
“And lipped and tipped?”
“…at the scene of the crime, unconscious with the evidence of your transgressions littered all around you. Have you anything to say in your defense before we carry out your sentence?”
Bess chuckled at the pretense of the proceedings. You didn’t drag a man all the way to the gallows just to let him talk his way out of a hanging.
Oh, forgive us for not realizing your religious tenets require weekly ewe molestation. You’re free to go. Our bad.
The decision had been made and Sheep Boy was headed for his last swing no matter what came out of his mouth. Too bad he didn’t realize that. He just stood there staring, sweat beading across his forehead. His heart beat visibly against his bare chest and he swallowed hard, his throat bobbling. The executioner shook him out of his reticence.
“Answer the magistrate!”
“They attacked me,” he finally managed to spit out, only digging his hole deeper. “Vicious, foul demons those creatures were. Vampire sheep. Check their teeth. All fangs and sharp points. No doubt you’ll find strips of my belt in their ragged teeth from when they tore it loose of my pants. I tried to run but I tripped. I had no choice but to fight back then, surrounded as I was.”
“By sheep?” The magistrate shook his head, his eyes flickering darkly in spite of the bright sun. The mass of villagers swarmed the base of the gallows, desperate to see someone hang. Only the handful of soldiers stationed there with halberds kept them from rushing the platform and doing the deed themselves.
“Must not get a lot of entertainment in these parts,” Kaede said.
“You sully your last moments with lies?” the magistrate shouted over the bloodthirsty voices clamoring below, egging them on. “The Lady Taalema will judge your dishonesty and you can be certain you will suffer for it.”
At the mention of the goddess the ranks of villagers raised their fists in the air and chanted, “Death!” The word became a mantra, ringing out over the assembly with each thunderous repetition, the sound shaking the ground.
“Because lying is the real crime here, huh? Never mind what he did to the poor sheep.” Bess rolled her eyes.
“If we’re going to do this we might want to get on with it,” Kaede commented. “Things are getting a bit hostile.”
Bess nodded. What had been an easy snatch and run had become a nightmare scenario as the mob grew more and more aggressive. She had no clue what had whipped them all into such a frenzy but Kaede was right. If they didn’t grab Sheep Boy soon he would be several inches taller and a whole lot deader.
“I’m on it.” She closed her eyes and summoned the energies buried within her, drawing them to the surface. Her skin warmed and her blood tingled in her veins, her fingers tingling as she hid her hand away. “Get ready.”
As soon as the words left her mouth a great fire erupted at the base of the gallows. The soldiers shrieked, suddenly engulfed in a raging inferno. They dropped their weapons and threw themselves from the fire, limbs flailing wildly to tamp the flames out. The men crashed to the ground with fitful screams, thrashing in their death throes. The crowd broke and ran then, scattering like rats at the creak of the cellar door and the threat of light. Muttered prayers took the place of vengeful shouts and the courtyard burst into chaos.
“Go,” Bess said, and Kaede reacted without hesitance.
The ex-pit fighter ran straight for the gallows in defiance of the wave of villagers fleeing the opposite way. Kaede pushed through and leapt over the guards crumpled into agonized heaps, straight into the flames. He disappeared for an instant, and then Bess spied him clambering up the wooden ladder that led to the gallows. His hood had fallen clear of his face and his scarred features were scrunched in determination.
“What’s going on?” Sheep Boy asked, struggling against his bonds.
The executioner spun about at seeing Kaede clear the edge of the platform and stumbled backward at the sight of the jagged falchion clutched in the warrior’s hand. Unarmed, the gallows attendant chose to test gravity over steel. He abandoned his charge and leaped from the back of the platform and crashed to earth, kicking up a cloud of dust while scrabbling to flee.
The magistrate was less impressed.
“Hold your ground!” he shouted.
And Kaede did exactly that, the fighter stiffening, his feet grinding to a halt as though they were made of great stones. His arm fell to his side, the point of his falchion thunking against the wood of the gallows.
“What have you done to me?” the fighter growled through rigid lips. The magistrate grinned.
“Achrima’s pickled pucker.” Bess caught the barest of glimmer at the magistrate’s eyes as he issued the command; shadows danced in their midst. Her illusion faded in her surprise, the flames vanishing in an instant, leaving no trace behind. She swallowed hard against the knot of realization forming in her throat. There was only one thing the magistrate could be.
A carrion mage.
Bess bolted from the alley and charged toward the gallows. She knew there was but an instant before the mage realized Kaede was not alone and he turned his withering gaze upon her. The soldiers, freed of the illusion’s hold, gasped like land
ed fish returned to the water and slowly tried to get to their feet. Bess ignored them and dug at the pouches hidden within her cloak while she ran. The guards were the least of her worries then.
The mage laughed. “You dare challenge me?” He stepped toward Kaede, raising a hand enshrouded in writhing ebony. “I will devour your soul!”
“I just wanted some plaguing mutton,” Sheep Boy screamed, doing his best not to choke himself on the noose as he tried to get out of the way.
Bess’s fingers closed about the item she’d been seeking and she yanked it loose of the pouch with a triumphant shout. Every eye turned to stare at her when she did and she grinned.
“Devour this!”
She threw the item and it sailed through the air. It struck the magistrate in the shoulder. The power at his hand extinguished and he reeled back with a pained grimace only to have his expression shift to one of surprise, then to amusement. The mage glanced at the tiny silver blade that protruded from his arm, its point sunk in less than an inch. The entirety of the weapon could fit in his palm. He chuckled as he pulled it free, a dribble of blood running down his biceps, and turned his frigid gaze on Bess, holding the blade in front of him.
“You think you can kill me with this minuscule thing, woman?” The carrion mage’s eyes narrowed and Bess felt a wave of dark energy ripple past. It stole the breath from her lungs and knocked her to her knees but nothing could steal the grin from her lips.
Bess shook her head. “Nope, but that’s not really what it’s for.”
Just then there was a muffled whumpf and the blade crumbled and turned to gray ash.
“What is this?” The mage asked, sparkling dust spilling through his spread fingers.
“Waaaaaaait for it.” Bess tucked her chin to her chest, staring at the mage through narrowed eyelids.
The ashes sprinkled to the floor with a hiss and the mage followed the trail with wide eyes. Then there was a brilliant flash that washed the color from the world despite her precautions. The mage roared and Bess heard the frantic shuffling of feet on wood followed by a meaty thud. Bess looked up, blinked away the stars that dotted her vision, and saw Kaede on the move. Only he and Sheep Boy remained atop the gallows. The fighter raised his falchion and swung mid-step.
“Wait! What are you—?” Sheep Boy ducked, as well as he could—the noose tightening about his throat—and the blade flew over his head and sliced through the rope. He dropped to his ass with a wet gurgle while Kaede jumped from the platform after the mage.
Bess watched as he dropped to the ground below, landing beside the carrion mage who lay on his back, groaning, hands clasped to his face. The magistrate yanked his hands away at the sound of Kaede’s arrival and stared with swirling, unfocused eyes.
“No, don’t get up on my account,” Kaede said, setting the point of his sword against the mage’s chest. “I insist.”
The soldiers started toward the ex-pit fighter, still shaking off the effects of the illusion, but Bess snapped her fingers to get their attention.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, boys.”
Twin demons met their gaze; great frothing beasts with razor sharp talons and teeth the size of daggers. That was all it took. The men scattered without argument, clearing the path to the carrion mage. After they were gone Bess went over and stood alongside Kaede and looked down upon the fallen magistrate.
“What’s a wizard like you doing in a place like this?” she asked.
“Raising vampire sheep is what,” Sheep Boy said from above, his head peeking over the edge of the gallows, the rope dangling. “And railroading innocent bystanders.”
Bess ignored him and sunk a boot into the mage’s thigh. “Well?”
“Does it really matter?” Kaede asked her. The carrion mage growled and tried to rise. Kaede pushed him back down with his sword. “Stay put or I start poking holes in you.”
“I am a powerful man,” the mage told them, his voice weak and slurred, irony in full effect. “The mayor is under my control, as are the villagers and the guard. I could share my glory if you would but let me live. You would be kings here.”
Bess glanced about, taking in the village of Hamm. Dusty, old, and a hundred miles from everything that might have made it important, even a pauper would spit on the mage’s offer if he had traveled beyond the borders just once. “Sounds a bit, uh…boring actually.”
“There’s more,” the wizard gasped as Kaede increased the pressure against the blade.
“Yeah. Vampire sheep who stalk innocent people? That’s a bonus.”
Bess waved Sheep Boy to silence. “Is that why you wanted him killed, mage?” She gestured to the previously condemned. “He saw something he wasn’t supposed to.”
The magistrate nodded after a short pause.
“I thought the execution seemed a bit excessive,” Bess said, “but I’ve come to realize the guy is kind of annoying. I could see wanting to string him up after a few minutes.”
“Heeey!”
Bess ignored Sheep Boy. “What’s the going pay rate for peasant kings these days?” she asked.
The carrion mage swallowed hard, doing his best to focus on her. “Hamm is not a rich village…” he started.
“Ah, so this deal is all about personal satisfaction and lording power over others rather than an opportunity to line your pockets with gold?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s it,” the mage answered.
Bess sighed. “That’s a shame. I much prefer gold.” She motioned to the fighter. “Kill him.”
“What?” the mage shouted. “I can make you—”
Kaede dropped his weight onto the sword without letting the man finish. The blade split the wizard’s flesh and sunk into the well of his chest. He sputtered, blood filling his mouth, and went rigid. His head lolled to the side and crimson spilled across the dirt beside him.
Kaede freed his sword and cleaned it on the mage’s robes before sheathing it. “What about him?” He motioned at the gallows.
Bess grinned and glanced up. “What’s your name, Sheep Boy?”
“Uh, Sand.”
“A Sand? Isn’t that contradictory?” Kaede asked.
“No, just Sand.”
“Just Sand?”
“Are we really going to do this?” Bess asked. When Kaede raised his hands in surrender she went on. “Okay then, Sand, let’s have a chat.”
Kaede reached up and grabbed the rope still dangling over the edge of the gallows and yanked. Sand hurked and came crashing down to land at their feet. “Sand, meet dirt.”
Sheep Boy grunted as Kaede yanked him to his feet, leaving the binds about his wrists. He swayed for a moment until he caught his balance.
“We’ve a proposition for you,” she said, positioning herself so she was directly in front of him. He was even bigger up close, she noted.
“Does it involve you killing me?” He glanced at the mage’s body, one eyebrow raised.
“Only if you say no,” she answered with a halfhearted shrug. “We’re reasonable people.”
Sand forced a smile. “Then I guess I’m in.”
“Wise choice.” Bess turned about and waved him on. “Then let’s get going before the guards find their courage up whatever hole they stuffed it into.”
Kaede pushed Sand after her.
“Wait. Aren’t you going to untie me?”
“Let’s get acquainted first.”
“Can you at least remove the noose?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Kaede added, pushing him forward once more.
“You’re going to make me regret not being hanged, aren’t you?”
“Most likely.”
“Ayuup!” Kaede nodded.
“Well then, since it’s been a long night and it’s not threatening to get any shorter, any chance we can stop off for some mutton before we go?”
Chapter Two
“You want me to do what?” Sand asked through a mouthful of charred meat.
“To become the War God,” Bess
answered “…as I said before…for the fifth time. Or was it six?”
“Eight or nine by now,” Kaede added, counting on his fingers.
“I’m not sure—”
“Yes, yes. We know you have your doubts.” Kaede groaned, interrupting his count. “And once more, we will train you, prepare you, equip you, and make sure you can do it. It’s what we do.”
At least this time, Bess thought. “You will be rich and famous and can have anything you want.” She gestured to the mutton. “You can have sheep, however you prefer them, any time you want without having to worry about being hanged for it or judged too harshly.” At least out loud.
“And wine,” Kaede added.
“And women?”
“Of course women. More women than you can shake your…uh, sheep stick at,” Bess muttered, doing her best not to roll her eyes. “You will be a god. There won’t be anything denied you…ever.”
Kaede hid a grin behind a huge bite of the poached mutton. The most gullible of fools would have seen the sparkle in his and Bess’s eyes, noted their posture, and smelled the oversell from miles away. But not Sand. He was a snake oil salesman’s wet dream.
“I could be a god.”
He stared into the campfire and grinned, his cheeks flush with excitement. The meat seemed forgotten in his hands as he went off on his journey of masturbatory self-importance. Bess stared at him and met his smile with her own but he didn’t notice.
“A god.”
“The god,” Kaede whispered, leaning toward the fire so his face was dancing with shadows. “Have you not heard of the prophecy?”
“What prophecy?”
“He who slays the great beasts of wool shall become god. It’s written in the ancient texts of Dhone.”
“Hmmmm,” Sand mumbled, nothing in his expression indicating he knew Kaede was full of it. “I haven’t heard that one.”
No one had. Not even the prophet Dhone.
Normally Bess would have called the ex-pit fighter out for his theatrics but she didn’t see any reason to then. Sand was as gullible as a virgin in a whore house. He was being teased and the coins were spilling from his purse in desperation. Bess could see it on him. Could smell it even. Could almost taste it, but she could definitely smell it…
Institutionalized (Demon Squad Book 10) Page 17
