by A. C. Cobble
“A plan?” asked Amelie.
Raphael looked at her silently.
“A different plan than we know about?” she insisted.
“No, of course not.” The swordsman smiled.
“Maybe I should talk to Tomas,” she stated.
“Sorry if I have concerned you,” rumbled the swordsman. “Yes, talk to Tomas, but not now. We should pay attention.”
As they spoke, they reached the outskirts of Kirksbane. The small trading town that seemed so friendly the first time they passed through was a maze of hidden threats now. Ben couldn’t help but search every face they saw, looking to see if anyone recognized him. Despite Tomas’ assurances they would be safe, Ben was convinced Coalition and Sanctuary watchers would be nearby. Maybe they didn’t have enough force to attack, but they could alert their masters to where Amelie was located.
Tomas steered them toward the Curve Inn. Amelie abruptly put a stop to that. Without explaining why, she demanded they stay somewhere else.
Ben stayed out of that discussion and avoided Amelie’s sidelong glares.
Finally, Tomas agreed with a dramatic sigh and they found another place to stay.
The oddly named Angry Badger sat near the outskirts of town and looked to be an inn catering toward the wealthier merchants and lords coming from Sineook Valley. It had an unusually large stable yard and plenty of room to tie up wagons. It had a separate bathing facility and offered a comfortable- looking common room. It wasn’t nearly as raucous as the Curve, which was fine with Ben.
On initial inspection, they had plenty of ale kegs stacked behind a long bar.
“Tomas,” called Amelie. He’d just finished with the innkeeper, and the rotund man was counting a fistful of silver, enough silver to pay for twenty-five new guests.
“Yes, my lady?” replied Tomas.
“We need to talk,” she declared.
Tomas met Raphael’s eyes and hesitated before answering. “Certainly. Right after we get freshened up.”
“Now, Tomas,” she complained.
“My lady, we’ve been on the road for days. Let us get cleaned up, have some refreshments brought, and we can spend the entire evening speaking.” The seneschal wasn’t outright defying Amelie’s wishes, but Ben noticed even some of the soldiers looked over with curious expressions.
Amelie glared at Tomas then agreed. “Fine. Immediately after we’ve bathed.”
The inn keep, who had been nervously standing back, bustled forward, describing the amenities his inn had to offer. Ben let the man’s hurried voice wash over him and he surveyed the room. Nothing seemed out of place that he could see, but the tingle of concern had not left him.
He drew close to Amelie and whispered to her, “Keep your weapons close.”
She stared ahead hard-eyed, then nodded.
Both the women’s and the men’s bathing chambers were located across the wagon yard in a back building that spilled steam every time a door was opened. Tomas insisted the women’s room be cleared before Amelie entered then he posted a handful of guards outside of the door. He instructed the other guards to make a patrol of the inn’s premises and report anything out of the ordinary. He gave Amelie a cheeky smile as if to say, ‘see, I told you so’. She disappeared inside without smiling back.
The men’s side was empty as well when Ben, Tomas, and Raphael entered.
The swordsman quickly stripped down and circled the room, picking up towels and soap. There was a large tank of heated water which he happily scooped up in buckets and filled three tin tubs.
Tomas ducked back outside and returned with a large earthenware pitcher of wine and three tankards.
“I hope you don’t mind I got red,” apologized the mousy seneschal. “I prefer white for bathing, but it isn’t chilled here,” he remarked with a petulant frown. “I just can’t stand that. Red will have to do.”
The naked Raphael strode over to Tomas and poured three full tankards. Tomas placed a hand on the big man’s back before accepting his and retreating to a corner where he also stripped.
Ben took his tankard then plunged into the steaming bath.
The room was filled with sounds of soft splashing from the men washing. None of them spoke. Ben’s head was ringing with unfocused concern. The other two seemed entirely focused on enjoying the hot water and wine.
Before long, a soldier poked in his head and called, “Lady Amelie is finishing up, sir. You wanted me to let you know.”
Tomas waved a hand at the man then stood. “We shouldn’t keep a lady waiting,” he acknowledged.
They quickly dressed and Ben strapped on his longsword and hunting knife. It felt odd being armed in a bathing chamber but he saw Raphael and Tomas kept their weapons as well. Raphael had a long scimitar and Tomas an unusual thick-bladed rapier, almost a broadsword, but with a basket hilt. Ben wasn’t sure if the seneschal knew how to use the sword. He never practiced with them on the road.
Out in the courtyard, they waited briefly for Amelie to appear.
When she came out, she saw Tomas and informed him, “We will meet now. I want to be clear on what our next move is.”
“As you wish, let us be clear. I think now is the time we all put our cards on the table,” replied the seneschal in a condescending tone.
Amelie peered at him quizzically, and then looked around in alarm as the telltale jangle of armed men running filled the air. In heartbeats, the courtyard was filled with crossbow-carrying men decked in chainmail and nondescript tunics. They were led by the mysterious woman who had traveled with them. She was still wearing the plainly made dress she wore on the road, but had gained an air of superiority that Ben hadn’t noticed previously.
The pale blue-clad Issen soldiers drew their swords and formed a loose circle around Amelie, Ben, Thomas, and Raphael. They were outnumbered three to one and at a disadvantage to the crossbows.
“What is going on?” shouted Amelie.
“I’m putting my cards on the table,” replied Tomas coolly. “Issen is surrounded. Argren was too stupid to see it coming. His Alliance is facing an unbeatable Coalition to the east and an unfriendly Sanctuary at their backs. I’m afraid there is just no reliable future in your father’s employ. I’ve decided to go freelance and sell my services to the highest bidder.”
“You’re working for the Coalition now! How could you?” cried Amelie.
“Not the Coalition.” Tomas smirked.
The woman demanded in a commanding tone, “Initiate Amelie, your presence is requested back at the Sanctuary.”
Amelie glared at the woman and demanded, “Who are you?”
“Lady Ingrid,” she responded with no emotion. “The Veil assigned me to secure your return.”
“My return?” asked Amelie incredulously.
“Return. That has a better ring to it than captured, dead or alive, doesn’t it?” asked the woman. A sinister smile spread across her face.
Ice ran through Ben’s veins and he cursed himself. The woman was a mage. Why hadn’t they seen it!
Amelie took an aggressive fighting stance. She didn’t have her weapons, though. Ben wasn’t sure what kind of magic she could call against a full mage. The Issen soldiers saw their lady preparing to fight and grips tightened on their swords. They nervously eyed the crossbowmen, but didn’t back down.
Tomas held an amused look.
“Don’t be foolish, Initiate,” said the woman. “The only thing resisting will do is get you and your men killed. I’m quite happy to take you alive, but I do not need to.”
Amelie glared at the woman.
“Initiate, these men have families back home. You are a brave girl, I am certain you are willing to throw your own life away fighting a hopeless battle. Are you willing to do the same for them? Will you deprive their children of fathers? Look around you. You will be killed in heartbeats.”
The soldiers glanced around anxiously. They were loyal, but with three times their number pointing crossbow bolts at their chests, they knew it
was a fight they couldn’t win.
Amelie weighed the odds then visibly deflated.
“That is better,” said Lady Ingrid. “Now…” The woman stopped talking and turned as a new pair entered the courtyard.
Ben blinked in surprise. Lady Towaal and Rhys were standing behind the line of crossbowmen.
Lady Ingrid snarled, “What are you doing here? I thought the Veil told you to stay close to the Sanctuary and leave this to me.”
“You are correct. The Veil did ask me to do that,” answered Lady Towaal. “I declined.”
The courtyard burst into chaos as Lady Ingrid swept her hand toward Towaal. A brilliant jet of red and blue flame shot out. Three crossbowmen erupted like dry kindling when the blast touched them. Lady Towaal raised one hand and the inferno parted around her.
Before anyone else could react, Rhys’ longsword leapt from his scabbard and he cleaved into the line of crossbowmen. He felled two of them almost instantly with two sweeping slashes.
Raphael was next to move. He charged toward Rhys but was blocked by a stumbling wall of his own men scrambling to escape the burning heat of Lady Ingrid’s fire.
Another man exploded in flame and three more fell to Rhys’ longsword by the time Ben drew his own weapon. He moved to protect Amelie but didn’t know where to turn. The Issen soldiers and crossbowmen fell on each other in a panicked crash of violence and screams.
Ben turned to Lady Ingrid but quickly decided to leave that one for Towaal. The woman’s face was a locked in a rictus of mad energy. She directed her twenty-pace long funnel of flame across the courtyard, torching everything in its path.
Ben glanced back at the warring soldiers, looking for an opportunity. He nearly lost his head when Tomas swung his thick-bladed rapier at Ben. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw it and ducked a heartbeat before the steel would have chopped into his skull.
“I will enjoy this,” growled the seneschal before dancing forward and jabbing at Ben.
Ben jumped to the side and yelled at Amelie to stay behind him. She was unarmed and would only be a distraction if she got within Tomas’ reach. It was clear now, Tomas would have no compunctions about killing her.
His longsword held steady in front of him, Ben faced off against the seneschal. Blood and fire framed the man’s haughty, wicked grin.
Tomas charged, swinging a tight figure-eight attack. Ben parried then barely avoided being skewered when the seneschal finished his attack with a powerful thrust toward Ben’s chest. Almost too late, Ben realized the man knew what he was doing.
Behind them, Ingrid continued to lay fire indiscriminately across the courtyard, torching her own men and the Issen men alike. A grim-faced Towaal calmly advanced through the fire, parting it harmlessly around her. Ben saw Raphael had fought his way to Rhys now, but he didn’t have time to see what happened as Tomas advanced again.
The mousy man was surprisingly strong and quick as a mongoose. Ben gained a shallow gash on one thigh and a deep cut on his shoulder during the next volley of attacks. He preferred to fight defensively, but waiting for the smaller man to make a mistake was not working.
Ben attacked in a complicated sequence which Saala taught him in the City. Tomas merely swept it aside and flicked his blade at Ben’s face, slicing a neat cut beneath one eye. Laughing, the seneschal darted toward Amelie, who had been exposed when Ben dodged the last attack. She was ready and ran behind Ben again before Tomas reached her.
Ben pivoted to face the man and saw Rhys battling Raphael out of the corner of his eye. Inspired, he yelled back to Amelie, “Watch out for the fire. Duck!”
Surprised, Amelie dropped down and Ben started to crouch. Tomas froze too, unsure if Lady Ingrid was really about to torch his back. It was the break Ben needed. He charged and slung his weapon at the seneschal’s face.
Tomas evaded Ben’s thrown longsword and started to bring his own blade up. He was too late. Ben was inside his guard.
Ben crashed into the smaller man, sending them both flailing into the dirt. Using his weight to hold Tomas down, Ben slammed one knee on the man’s sword arm and jerked his hunting knife from his belt.
Panicked, the little man pounded his fist into Ben’s side. From his back, he couldn’t get enough leverage to do damage. Ben absorbed the blows then plunged his hunting knife down into the seneschal’s chest and ripped it out. A gush of blood followed. Almost immediately, the small man stopped fighting and gurgled his last breaths.
Ben looked up to see Rhys engaged in a furious battle with Raphael, Lady Towaal still advancing on the flame throwing Lady Ingrid, and the battle between the crossbowmen and Issen soldiers was nearly finished. Half of both parties lay in charred heaps where Ingrid burned them.
One crossbowman was unengaged though and came running at Ben. Ben lurched to his feet but he had only his knife. The man was covered in chainmail and came waving a short sword. Ben staggered back, trying to think of what he could do. The soldier, seeing Ben’s panic, redoubled his speed and was in a full sprint toward Ben.
Suddenly, Amelie slid in between them and snatched Ben’s sword off the ground. The soldier slowed at the unexpected obstacle but not in enough time to prevent Amelie from swinging with all her might at his unprotected knees. The man went down hard, crashing into and over Amelie. He let out a howl of pain, clutching as his ruined legs. Ben reacted quickly and jumped onto the man, drawing his knife across the fallen soldier’s throat.
Amelie rolled clear and stood, still holding Ben’s longsword. Together, they turned and faced the battle.
Ben saw Rhys risk pointing toward Tomas’ fallen body. Raphael’s face drained of color and his sword trembled in his grip. The swordsman cried in anguish and his eyes watered, right before Rhys elegantly swept his blade around and into the swordsman’s neck. Raphael’s scarred, bald head thumped onto the packed dirt of the courtyard. A heartbeat later, his body crashed down next to it.
The silver sigils inscribed on Rhys’ dark steel longsword blazed brilliantly.
On the other side of the courtyard, Towaal was half dozen paces from Lady Ingrid when she finally displayed her own magic. Her adversary was chanting now and had both her hands raised, concentrating her fire on Towaal directly in front of her.
Towaal simply waved her hand and a blast of narrow, jagged shards of ice materialized out of thin air. They imploded into Lady Ingrid, skewering her from all directions. Ingrid collapsed in a crunch of broken ice, water, and blood.
The fight between the soldiers was almost finished, with only two standing crossbowmen drawing in on a lone Issen man. Rhys casually walked up behind one of the crossbowmen and punched his longsword through the man’s back. Stunned, the man’s companion looked over in time to catch Rhys’ long-knife in his eye.
The last remaining Issen soldier looked around the absolute wreckage of the courtyard and fell to his knees. “Flaming hell,” was all he could muster.
Ben agreed.
Flames licked all of the building surrounding the courtyard. Half of the bodies were merely charred and smoking piles of ash. The rest had the ghastly injuries of men who died in violent, close combat.
Ben and Amelie faced Lady Towaal and Rhys. The pop and crackle of the burning buildings filled the courtyard with sound.
Rhys met their eyes then gestured with a thumb toward the courtyard exit. “We should probably get going,” he suggested.
“We’re not going with you,” Amelie quaked.
“Don’t be silly, girl,” retorted Lady Towaal, stepping over the blood-drenched corpse of Ingrid. “We’re leaving together.”
Amelie held up Ben’s longsword and assumed a fighting stance.
Rhys chuckled, but it was Towaal who answered. “Amelie, if we meant you harm, we would just kill you now. Lady Ingrid was quite clear what her intentions were. We saved you. You saw that, right?”
Amelie scowled, unsure of what to do. Ben decided for them.
“She’s right,” he said. “If they hadn’t come in, Ingri
d would have us. We can talk about it later, but right now, we need to leave.”
As if to make his point, the familiar clanging of the Kirksbane watchmen’s bells started ringing.
“You too,” muttered Rhys as he dragged the stunned remaining soldier to his feet and propelled the man toward the exit. “We can’t leave you behind to flap your gums to the sheriff.”
How to Live Forever
The party stumbled from the smoldering Angry Badger. A steady flow of people were streaming away from the area, some progressing orderly, and some running flat out. Unlike when they fled the Plowman’s Rest, the city watch was not rushing toward this conflagration.
“I suppose there is no way to hide that magic was involved,” groaned Lady Towaal.
“You did stab a woman to death with a dozen shards of ice that materialized out of nowhere, right after she torched three or four buildings using only her mind. Also, there is the score of men who look to have spontaneously combusted,” Rhys replied dryly. “Yeah, I think they may suspect magic was involved.”
“The ice will have melted by the time anyone risks getting close,” snapped Towaal.
Rhys just laughed.
The lone soldier that Rhys had pulled along with them suddenly broke out sobbing.
“I’m sorry, Lady Amelie. I can’t do this,” he managed to say through choking shudders. He undid his sword belt, dropped it, and started running. The heavy jingle of his chainmail preceded him down the road.
The four companions stopped and watched him run.
“How long do you think he can run in that chainmail?” asked Rhys.
“It looks like he can go pretty far, though not very quickly,” answered Ben.
They watched the man run, fascinated at his slow progress.
The man was near one hundred paces down the road and approaching a bend. He was still going at a steady pace. His rasping and wheezing breath was getting more difficult to hear as he got further away.
Rhys looked to Towaal. “Should we stop him?”
She shook her head. “Amelie’s presence was well known in Kirksbane. The outcome of the battle is obvious. There is little the man can tell the Sanctuary that they won’t be able to find out on their own.”
