Overkill

by Steven Shrewsbury

  “She took to the venture like a famished dog, though.” He drank more and related, “Gorias, you must understand, I’ve never used my wizardry for the darker, baser arts.”

  “Until now.”

  “You have to appreciate what we both can distinguish, that everyone can die, wizards and even legends. I had to stay the hand of death and defeat destiny itself.”

  Gorias stood and exhaled in disgust. “Forces beyond this realm always make men candy coat their words when defending why releasing evil is a good idea. You aren’t snowing me, warlock. The sinister forces always want a baby or some such thing for this kind of art. Do you think I can just let that life slide for a few more gold pieces? No keeper at Pergamus just gave up the fire, for a soul has to feed the dragon-light to let it live on.”

  Yannick shrugged and stood up as well. “This particular lady was pregnant herself, so the infant was there for the sacrifice. The child was unwanted, so everyone won in the end.”

  Rubbing his right eye, Gorias muttered, “Except the baby, I guess. Who is she? Tell me, Yannick, and I’ll see how good my disposition is by the end of this venture.”

  Yannick face turned insipid. “You’d never slay me, La Gaul…”

  Gorias grinned. “Who would stop me, those rows of armed kiddies on the walls out there? Hardly a set a’ balls in the bunch.” He leaned over the table, “If my mind decides it, there will be no stopping me, old wizard. I’m not so infirm that I cannot take out a few dozen guards.” His eyes were clear and focused when he promised the mage, “I’d kill myself to see you die.”

  Yannick didn’t blink as he held his breath for several seconds before admitting, “I believe you.”

  “Then tell me where she’s to be found and I may forget my way back here.”

  With a doubtful look in his eyes, Yannick confessed, “How can I know for certain that you won’t double-cross me?”

  Gorias adjusted his armlets and said, “You’re a prognosticator, not a wizard, right? That should be an easy one to figure out.”

  “Noguria, the pirate mistress of Princess Nykia.”

  “She’s the one killing the politicians? Noguria?”

  “A crossbreed Pryten witch, a woman of some means.” Yannick nodded, eyes closed. “Noguria poses as a lady of the night and entraps them. For what end I have no clue, but I cannot say anything as it will implicate me. She paints herself as a high-toned whore and they fall in line.”

  “Why not just a knife to the ribs? Why burn them? She must be makin’ a helluva point.”

  Yannick took a few breaths, eyes open. “It’s some horrific game, perhaps a contract with her soul to Pergamus, I cannot understand it all.”

  Gorias frowned. “I doubt that seriously, wizard.”

  “Noguria fences with Niva and the other religions. She is into some sort of religious domination game with the Pryten goddess, the dead Queen Tancorix. I cannot understand their fencing, but I was drawn into their conflict due to my illness. The deals I’ve cut to lengthen my life have spawned this petty conflict.”

  “Noguria is mistress over little Nykia?”

  “She’s not so little, I’d surmise, but if she still lives, yes. Nykia is hers now, body and soul.” Yannick looked at the table and threw up his hands. “Finding Noguria may be difficult, but the pirates smuggle things into Transalpina at times. They land in a rocky outcropping to the northwest called the Keep.”

  Icy spiders walked over Gorias’ shoulders as he recalled Alena’s words. “Oh yeah? What sort of things?”

  “Herbs, hallucinogens for the weak-minded, a base form of grain alcohol and whores. They move by phases of the moon.” Yannick walked to his desk, fumbled for a sheet of parchment, tore it in half, then dipped his quill in ink.

  His right hand running through the hair over his head, Gorias replied, “I think I’ve heard that.”

  Yannick handed him the paper. “In the region of Gabitril, west of Mysoline you will find the Keep. It’s shaped like a crescent moon and hooks around the sea. There’s no beach to make landfall. Much trading is done there under the noses of the authorities.”

  Gorias read the names on the paper. “I see.”

  “I think they will make a deal tomorrow night as the moon will be full. General Thynnes is even out to gain by this. Don’t ask me to explain it all. That is my guess but I could be wrong.”

  Gorias turned, saying quietly, “Ya better not be.”

  CHAPTER VI

  Thynnes and the Pirates

  Gorias, Alena and Orsen departed Qesot to ride all evening into the northern countryside away from the main highway. The Gabitril region they traveled to lay on a different plain away from the narrowest portion of the channel. Near Gabitril, the northern sea opened up in a jagged coastline before morphing into a tangled backwoods. Since this area descended into wilderness, it formed a natural border to the next land.

  They stopped by a long mead hall and boarding house on the edge of the town. Orsen declared the village, “Tegitrol. A quiet place of no significance, save to water horses for the military and navy.”

  Gorias’ eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”

  Orsen waved toward the northern hills. “Beyond Tegitrol lies Mysoline, great port and naval base by the sea. Far to the west lies the Keep where the pirates will arrive.”

  Gorias turned to Alena. “Are you sayin’ the pirates will skirt territory of the navy and land just over the ridge in a rocky outcropping?”

  She nodded. “Takes balls, no?”

  “Or a navy on the take. I wonder if they aren’t the only ones. Ah well. Time to rest. We’ll have until tomorrow night.”

  Alena asked, “Do you think Yannick is lying?”

  Gorias climbed down from Traveler and shook off the road dust from his cloak. “Sure, but he’s afraid. He fingered quite a few people and may just be jerkin’ me off. I do believe that he’s been ill, though. Desperate men do stupid things.”

  Orsen dismounted. “From what you told me, he gave up everyone but his mother’s banker, sir, even saying General Thynnes came this way to the naval base for an outing.”

  “Hard to trust a coward, but we are grasping at straws. I do wonder why he fingered General Thynnes and let out he was on a mission out here. Fighting the fuckin’ army isn’t on my plate.”

  Alena frowned. “Why come to this place he named particularly? I’d have chosen a different alcove than the region he specified. Why believe him about the spies and smugglers?”

  “Because he may have known we were coming to see him, but readily gave up others. He’s a survivor and wanted to save his own ass.”

  “Could he be sending us to our deaths?” Orsen wondered.

  “We are from the Queen herself, but if we die, the inquiries from Her Majesty won’t stop. But yeah, he could be, even if the General and some soldiers are nearby.”

  Alena offered, “Perhaps he knows better than to mess with a legend?”

  “That may have crossed his mind, but he’d still kill me if it meant surviving another day.”

  Orsen took the reins of Traveler and nodded at the stables. “I’ll get these mounts taken care of.”

  Gorias faced Alena, then reached in his belt and took out several coins. He handed them to her. “Now, let’s get drunk. Go get us something to drink and ask about General Thynnes and if his troopers indeed came through here.”

  “They aren’t likely to tell me the truth.”

  “They are less likely to tell me.”

  “Why? They fear a fable?”

  “No, you have a nicer ass than me.”

  *****

  Alena knocked on Gorias’ room door and he twisted the latch to let her inside. Four long decanters pinned under her left arm, she held a platter of meat, bread and nuts aloft in the other. She paused at the sight of Gorias, his dragon skin armor on the floor opposite the bed. The old warrior, though scarred and sunburnt, didn’t sport the body of an elderly man. Wearing only a wrap around his waist, he returned
to the ceramic basin to continue washing himself down.

  “Put that all down, I’m about finished, little girl.”

  Snapping out of her momentary shock, she put the flagons down and looked for a spot to lay the tray.

  Gorias gestured to the foot of the bed. “Put it there.” He wiped his chest and under his arms dry with a towel and pointed to the desk. “Plenty of water and rags if you wanna get clean, sister.”

  “Uh, all right.”

  He grabbed a flagon and sat on the bed, groaned and took a long draw on the tankard. “Ahhh, if God made anything better, he kept it to himself.”

  “You like honey beer?” She started to shed her mail vest and unbutton her leather blouse.

  He eyed her oddly for a moment and then lay back on the bed. “The beer is ok. I smelt whiskey in one of the other ones.”

  She nodded, pulling off her top.

  Gorias drank again, eyes mostly to the ceiling as she grabbed a rag and put it in the basin. “You’re all right, little girl. Ya thought of everything.”

  She soaked the rag, started to wash her stomach and up between her small breasts. “Orsen heard tell in the stables that Thynnes’ band is far up the road from us. He volunteered to go see them as a messenger.”

  “That little sucker never gets tired.”

  “Doesn’t appear to, anyhow.”

  Gorias started to eat some of the sliced ham and Alena shed her pants.

  Alena turned, smiling as she started to wipe off her long legs. “You aren’t offended that I do this here?”

  Gorias shrugged and took another drink. “I just figured you’d do it in your own room, but I ain’t gonna tell ya what to do.”

  Alena wrung out the rag and dipped it in the fresher water. As she applied it between her legs, she shrugged. “I figured we’d eat and drink together, maybe you’d tell me a few stories.”

  He laughed once. “You ever hear the story about how I gutted the Orm of the Loch in the northern Albion wasteland?”

  Dousing her hair in the basin, Alena said, “Yes.”

  He swallowed again. “Then there’s no reason to bring it up then.”

  Standing tall, long tresses thrown back, she laughed heartily. “You kill me.”

  “Oh, I’d never kill you. It’s the red in yer hair. Ya get a pass on me killing you.”

  Wiping her neck, she asked, “You never would kill a redhead?”

  “I’d feel shitty about it, but well…”

  She stood before the foot of the bed, naked as the day she was born and put down the towel.

  He stared at her and drank again.

  Alena eyed the cloth over his midsection. “You stir because of me? I’m flattered.”

  “I’m old, but I ain’t dead, and I’m still a man. But what would you want with an old fool like me?”

  Her hands on the footboard, she climbed over the end and went to her knees between his legs. “What would any woman want with you?”

  He placed the tankard on the nightstand. “Tell me.”

  Her long fingers ran up his legs and Alena moved closer to him. “I don’t have a man. I don’t have a vow of chastity, Gorias La Gaul. Do you have a problem with me and some informal enjoyment?”

  “Of course not.”

  She smiled and ran her hands to his crotch. “You show no fear of a young lady? I’m no petite flower with a flat ass.” She pushed his towel away to his belly and started to fondle him. “What if I don’t say to my sisters that Gorias La Gaul wasn’t the most rapturous match of my life?”

  Gorias sat forward, nose to nose with her, and seized her waist. “You’d be lying, but really, I won’t care. Within a few days, you won’t see me again. But there are few things I want to do before I die.”

  “Such as?” she asked and kissed his lips softly, hands stroking his rigid manhood.

  Fingers digging into her waist, he mumbled, “You.”

  Gorias lifted her off the bed and her eyes widened at his strength. He lay back, slid himself under her long splayed legs and dropped her sex over his face. She gripped his mane of hair, nails digging deep into Gorias’ scalp, wet tresses flying back, slapping his waving erection.

  A few times in the evening, the innkeepers thought the two slaying each other, but were relieved to see the tall young lady leave the room for more beer every other hour.

  Just after midnight, a pounding at the door startled them both awake. Alena nestled in close, head under his chin, hand on his heart, she only moved a little.

  “Lord La Gaul?” Orsen’s voice cried out.

  Gorias sighed. “Well, at least he was this late.” He spoke up and shouted, “What is it?”

  “I have spoken with representatives of General Thynnes. The pirates will make landfall this very night. I doubt he is on their side.”

  “Beautiful.”

  “I can’t find Alena anywhere.”

  “Relax. I know where she is but gimme a chance to get dressed.”

  She feigned giggling and started to play with his member again.

  Gorias muttered, “Don’t you ever get tired?”

  Alena kissed down his chest to his stomach. “Don’t you ever stop getting hard when toyed with?”

  Orsen called out, “How long will it be? These soldiers are testy to meet up with the General later on at a fixed point.”

  Gorias hand rested on her flowing hair as it bobbed over his midsection. “Gimme a few minutes, all right?” He let his head fall back on the pillow and ran his hand down her back. He didn’t know if Orsen stood outside or not, nor did he care if he heard him say, “The hands on the hips pose you did while atop me? That was really special. I liked that. I saw you ride your horse like that, directing the roan with no reins.” Eyes closed, Gorias relaxed back and said, “Special.”

  *****

  Gorias and Alena joined Orsen near the stables. Traveler and Alena’s roan were saddled and ready. Gorias gave little regard to the two soldiers mounted up beside Orsen.

  “Why tonight? I thought Yannick figured the pirates moved by the phases of the moon or whatever the hell it is.”

  Orsen exchanged glances with the soldiers and stated, “The pirates aren’t adherents to such things as many may think. They perform their mischief a day early to throw off those in pursuit or who may suspect them.”

  “Huh,” Gorias grunted as he mounted up.

  Alena related, “Kind of like celebrants of sects that do their holidays a day off to poke the establishment.”

  “So the pirates are zealots of a sort? Outstanding. Glad you made contact with Thynnes’ men.”

  Orsen cleared his throat and explained, “They found me, sir.”

  His head snapping from soldier to soldier, Gorias’ hands became fists on the reins. “Outstanding indeed.” Traveler turned in a circle, but this move wasn’t to launch him down the road. The horse reacted to his broiling anger. “That sonofabitch! He’s playing me!”

  All moved their mounts back from the raging man but none dared to speak.

  “That damned wizard…”

  Orsen amended, “Prognosticator.”

  Head snapping toward Orsen, Gorias shouted, “My achin’ ass! I’ll call that prick dead meat, I will. He has set us up!”

  Alena held up her hand. “How could Yannick tell Thynnes? We’ve just arrived. He couldn’t have spoke the words or sent a runner past, surely.”

  Orsen offered dryly, “Perhaps by carrier pigeon?”

  Gorias still fumed. “I don’t care if he tattooed it on a demon’s backside and flew him over here. I’ll shove my sword so far down his throat that wizard will be able to use his cock to slice bread.”

  Alena dropped her hand. “What will we do?”

  After a few deep breaths, Gorias eyed the troopers. “I’ll kill that old bastard at my leisure. I wanna see Thynnes myself and see what awaits us. Kids, how many in your group traveling with the General?”

  They looked at each other before the one on the left said, “I’m not at libe
rty to say.”

  Gorias wheeled Traveler about, facing the road out of town. “I just wanna know if you little pricks are laying in wait for me.” He kicked Traveler and the horse leapt forward.

  Alena faced the soldiers and said, “He wants to know how many of you he has to kill if this is real mischief.”

  *****

  Two hours down the road, four horsemen approached them clad in the leathers and mail, but not like the soldiers with them. Gorias drew his swords. The riders drew short swords each and never backed down.

  Orsen went forward on his mount, waving his hands, but not so far ahead to get between them. “Hold, Gorias! These are men from the General’s elite strike force, the Black Ravens.”

  Gorias lowered his blades and smiled. The four Black Ravens didn’t share his hilarity.

  “How redundant,” Gorias mumbled, putting his swords away in their housings, then pausing in his motions until the four horsemen stowed their blades as well. Gorias eyed Alena and said, “Black Ravens. How about Brown Pigeons or Green-Headed Ducks?”

  Keeping her face stern, Alena replied, “They wouldn’t be as intimidating to the ear, Lord La Gaul.”

  He gave her a wink as they took up riding along with the elite soldiers. One of them said to Orsen, “General Thynnes awaits, but has the area by the Keep surrounded. They’re going to unload materials and exchange with traitorous dogs in Albion. We came by this information earlier today, so we are glad you arrived to help or at least watch.”

  “Dang, that is lucky, huh?” said Gorias, still annoyed. “I smell rats, lots of rats.”

  The speaker of the Black Ravens gestured toward a heavy copse of trees in the distance. “We must tie up our mounts there. The land rises to a ridge beyond the trees and then overlooks the Keep where the pirates are moored up. They have some ships farther out but are making a landing in small crafts.”

  As they rode on the man explained that traitors from Albion moved up a regular road in a caravan of wagons and waited on the opposite end of the Keep’s crescent. These men were who the pirates were in with, not the General.