Path of Fire (Saga of The Wolf Book 3)
Page 24
Magister Ferral joined them then. “And our members, Archmagister?”
“Nothing has changed. They are to stay in their assigned groups. Offer healing and use barriers when they can,” Brental replied.
Ferral bowed and moved off to relay the orders.
“Is your pawn in place?” Shamir asked Drokier.
Drokier’s face stiffened for a moment before relaxing. The man took a look toward Haven. It was something Brental was keen not to miss.
“I can’t know for certain,” Drokier replied. “But I trust all is as planned.”
“Good, now go lead the men,” Shamir commanded.
“Sir,” Drokier replied, urging his horse on.
“I hope you and The Wolf find each other,” Brental called after him. Drokier had boasted about killing Treace, but Brental hoped it would be the other way around.
“So do I,” Shamir muttered, though obviously for a much different reason.
Brental watched Drokier ride away and thought about how the man had stiffened when Shamir questioned whether or not his person in place. Why would that question agitate Drokier? Brental realized that it wasn’t the question that agitated him, it was that Shamir called the person a pawn. Considering Drokier’s quick glance to Haven when asked the question, Brental assumed the person was already inside the city. If Brental was correct in his guess, which he was certain that he was, that meant he knew who was in Haven. While it did make him feel a little better knowing that Disdane would have help getting inside the walls, it was also a bit disconcerting. She was unstable and unpredictable and yet somehow Drokier trusted her. Even though Drokier may trust in her, Brental did not. Jass was too crazy to be trusted. Even if she turned out to be reliable in this, Brental didn’t believe this war would end quickly, as the King had hoped. It would take days to finish this.
But given how unpredictable Jass was, he should have known better than to assume things would go as planned.
Chapter 24
Jass looked over her shoulder, not because she was nervous that someone had recognized her or was following her, but because of all the commotion. The church bells had thankfully stopped ringing, but the people were still scattering around.
Shamir had arrived.
She had been in Haven for nearly a week now. At first she was a little nervous that she’d be spotted by either Treace, his bitch of a girlfriend, or the cute one she stabbed in the leg, Moff. But it was only for a moment. No one could either blend in, or stand out, quite like her. She was dressed much differently from the last time they had seen her. She had ditched her leather armor and breeches and instead was wearing a dress and a thick overcoat. The dress was the type that only a noblewoman would wear and the overcoat was as warm as any. Between them and the small hat she wore, she looked like a completely different woman. She acted like one too. She laughed at the men’s jokes and pretended to swoon over them or another pretty dress a fellow noblewoman wore. It was a game, and one she played well, despite not being raised as a noble. She knew it was a game for them, too, but they played a different game. They were busy trying to find a higher place in the pecking order or feel as if they had accomplished something in their lives. Surely they hurt people along the way to get what they wanted, but those were just feelings or lightened coin purses. When Jass hurt someone, she preferred it to be with a weapon.
“The attack has started,” a handsome guard told her as he rushed by. He craned his neck to finish speaking as he moved. “You should lock yourself inside your home.”
“I’m headed there now,” she said sweetly.
She wasn’t sure if he had heard her or not, because he had already turned his head back the way he was jogging. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going home. She didn’t even have a home here.
She turned back toward the north side of the city and began moving again. She took her time getting there, relishing the fear on the faces of those she passed. She figured she had an hour to spare, just in case something went wrong. Disdane wouldn’t arrive until a little before sunset. Fitting, she thought. Liernin’s emblem was that of a setting sun over the horizon. Today’s setting sun would be the last he would ever see. If he made it that long.
“You shouldn’t be outside right now,” a finely dressed older man advised. “It’s not safe for a woman.”
“So go back inside then,” she instructed without pausing. Having need to play the charade for a short while longer, she knew she shouldn’t have been so venomous with her retort, but she was tired of being treated as if she were feeble. She was a woman, not a child. Men liked to think they were better than her. They weren’t. Just ask the many that had fallen to her dagger. The very one that was tucked safely in an inside pocket of her overcoat.
That elicited a shocked look on the man’s face as he passed. Apparently he wasn’t used to being talked to in such a manner.
Jass hoped he’d be counted as one of the dead by the time this fight was over.
She continued on, thinking of Moff as she walked. She didn’t know why her mind kept settling on the curly-haired man. Granted, he was handsome, but she wasn’t the type to settle down. Even if she was, would he really want her? She stabbed him in the leg, dragged him through mud and his own shit, and had turned him over to his enemy for execution. Inexplicably, he had managed to live through it all. Surely he had to know that was just business, though, right? He couldn’t hold that against her personally. It was her job to bring him in. If he did hold it against her, she’d just kill him. Either way worked for her.
She began to hum her tune as she went, happily thinking of her future and what she’d make of it. She wanted to sing, but the uppity assholes around here would surely take offense to the words to her song.
The gate came into view a short while later. She counted four guards with melee weapons, mostly standing around a fire pit. She expected those men. What Jass didn’t expect, though, were the three archers on top of the wall. They were spaced twenty or so yards apart.
There was only a single archer yesterday, manning the bell that she assumed would announce any visitors or intruders. The extra opposition complicated things, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She’d just have to improvise. Which for her usually meant using her womanly charms.
She ducked around the corner to think about her next step. Not typically being one to overthink things, she settled on a course of action in a matter of seconds. She thought the time for patience was at its end. It was time to have some fun.
Jass turned the corner, noting the guards were still huddled around the fire. But, one of the three archers on the wall was climbing down the ladder. Seven total adversaries. She was confident she could handle the situation.
She walked toward the guards that were huddled around the fire. They kept looking back her way, but she thought they were looking more toward where they thought the battle was about to begin rather than at her.
The archer that had climbed down the ladder had moved past her, giving her a long look before jogging down the road.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” one of them told her when she joined them around the fire.
“I know, but with all the danger lurking around, I just couldn’t help myself,” Jass told them, sizing each one up, warming her hands over the fire.
“So what is it you want?” another asked.
He was the best looking one of the group, by far, but he wasn’t the right size. He was far too big. The first one to speak was about right, but he was too ugly. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it, after all, she had standards. Of the remaining two, only one was close enough to her size and wasn’t as ugly as a dog’s ass. She looked to him, opened the top of her overcoat, revealing the low-cut yellow dress she wore underneath. “I hate to be crude, but at a time like this I don’t see any reason to be anything but blunt. I’d rather not die a virgin,” she told him, trying to sound sincere. “I know you strong, handsome fellas are here to protect me, but just in case, I was think
ing you could help me out with that?”
The man blushed and stammered out some incoherent response, to which his friends gave him shit for. She didn’t bother to wait for him to say anything further. She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her, leading him toward the stable. He didn’t offer any resistance. They never did.
The three remaining men were as much amused as they were stunned. She knew they wouldn’t be so amused in a little while.
“Have fun!” one called after them as they departed.
“You never mind them,” Jass told the man she dragged along. “They’re just jealous.”
“I know,” he managed to reply.
Once in the stable, she looked around for the stable boy so that she could pay him to leave. There wasn’t anyone there, however, so she simply pointed at a blanket and told the man to get it. “In the loft,” she ordered. “Warm air rises and we won’t be interrupted up there.”
“Ladies, first,” he replied, motioning for her to go up the ladder first.
His eager grin was annoying, but she needed him, so she went first, leading him like a puppy, knowing full well he was looking up her dress the whole way. She went slowly, letting him have a good look of what he wouldn’t get.
Once in the loft, she had him move a few bales of hay around and spread the blanket out. She removed her overcoat, carefully placing it next to the blanket, and began to slip out of her dress.
The man hurriedly tossed his heavy cloak aside and unbuckled his pants before moving toward her.
“Take off that armor. All of it,” she instructed with an upraised hand. “I want to feel your skin.”
He hesitated for a moment, but when her dress fell to the floor, revealing her naked form underneath, he quickly did as he was told. It was cold, very cold, and she wanted this to be over.
Once he shed his armor, he rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her, greedily grabbing and kissing. His hands felt like chunks of ice and his breath was terrible. Rotten food smelled better.
“On your back,” she ordered, pushing him away and toward the blanket.
He dutifully complied.
Jass climbed on top of him and began kissing his neck, making sure to keep his vision obscured from what her right hand was doing. She found what she was looking for inside of her overcoat. The cold steel felt right at home in her hand.
His frozen hands groped all about, going from her buttocks to her breasts. He started to reach his hand down under her belly, but she wasn’t going to let those frozen things go any further. She pressed down hard with her hips, preventing his hand from going any lower. She kissed him then, ignoring his foul breath. She wrapped her left hand around the back of his head and grabbed a handful of hair. She bit his lip as she drew back a few inches. “Sorry,” she said softly, even though she really wasn’t. She just thought it was something she should say.
“I like it,” he moaned.
“Not this,” Jass assured him, deftly slitting his throat with her dagger.
It took a moment for his face to change from pleasure to pain. His eyes widened, then bulged as he began to buck, trying to throw her off. He reached a hand to his throat, but she knew it wouldn’t do him any good.
She pulled hard on his hair, keeping his head as still as she could and locked her legs in place, trying to keep his body under control.
His struggling stopped a short while later and she relaxed. His eyes didn’t reflect the shock the way she thought they would. Instead, she saw sorrow. She didn’t know why, many men would be happy to die with her on top of them. Many of them actually had. “Thanks for the armor,” she said, running her finger over his lips then kissing him before getting up.
Jass cleaned the blood from her dagger and arm with the blanket, then began putting on his clothes and armor, which, thanks to her plan, were perfectly free of blood. They were a little big on her, but nothing she was overly concerned with.
“See you sweetie,” she told him, tossing his heavy cloak over her shoulders. “Time for me to go kill your friends.”
Jass hummed her tune as she finished securing the cloak and climbed down out of the loft.
She peered out from the stable and wasn’t surprised to find the guards had changed positions. One of the archers had made his way to the fire and one of the other swordsmen had taken his post. Fortune did often smile upon her that way. Having the one archer on the wall made her job even easier. Assuming he wanted to warm his hands that was.
Jass waited a little while before venturing back out, making sure the cloak was drawn high over her head so she wouldn’t give away who she was.
The positions of the guards hadn’t changed since she last looked. She angled for the ladder that led to the platform on the wall, which as luck would have it, was where the bell and the sole archer was.
As Jass approached, she heard the men around the fire discussing how they thought their compatriot performed and whether or not Jass truly was a virgin, to which most of them said they had their doubts.
“That was over fast,” one remarked.
“Like we thought otherwise,” his friend added.
“How was she?” another asked.
Jass couldn’t answer without giving away that she wasn’t a man, so she simply raised her hand and presented her fist with her thumb pointed to the sky.
“Well, was she a virgin or not?” asked another.
Jass despised how all men thought with their crotch. Well, most of the time. She may despise it, but it afforded her many opportunities as a mercenary and bounty hunter. She again gave a thumbs up, to which the men instantly began arguing the validity of her response.
Jass ignored them and climbed up the ladder to where the archer was. She kept her head low so he couldn’t see her face. She nudged him and motioned to the fire and rubbed her hands together for what she hoped he’d take as an offer for him to go warm his hands.
“Yeah, thanks,” the man replied.
It was muffled from his scarf, but she still clearly understood him. She gave him a thumbs up as well, noting how universal the gesture was, especially with men. Simple, just like them.
Jass looked out into the distance and wondered where Disdane was. How close was he? She thought his force would be within sight soon. If his force was near, she was certain an advanced scout would be looking for her signal.
Shit! The signal. She left her dress in the loft of the stable. The yellow dress was her signal to Disdane that the gate was open and it was clear for him to advance unseen. She cursed herself and thought about another course of action.
Having decided that she would simply return to get the dress once she dispatched the men, she moved down the platform to the other guard.
He caught her movement and looked her way.
She quickly lowered her head and kept walking toward him.
“If your wife knew you did that, you’d be dead,” the man insisted.
Jass was surprised the man she killed was married. Between his eagerness and horrid breath, she was sure he was single. She guessed he and his wife weren’t intimate often. Having decided the universal gesture had used up all its usefulness, she nodded her head, hoping the man would accept that for a reply.
She moved up next to him and faced the wall. She leaned over it, pretending to scan the horizon.
“She was so good she took your tongue?”
Jass wanted to reply that she took his life, but she didn’t. She needed every second of advantage she could get. She looked below to ensure the others weren’t looking directly at her. Those around the fire weren’t paying her any attention. She made note of their exact positions and her distance from them.
“She must have been good. She made you deaf too,” the man observed with a slight giggle.
Jass detected a hint of annoyance behind that giggle. The man wasn’t used to being ignored. Satisfied with her plan, she turned back around and put her left arm around the larger man’s shoulders and squeezed. In came her right hand, exper
tly driving her dagger into the man’s throat and then again into his chest.
He tried to pull away, and even as strong as he was, Jass held him firmly in place, squeezing as hard as she could with her left arm and driving her dagger in as deeply as it would go. She knew her aim was true. His reaction was just reflex. Her dagger had found his heart. He became much heavier then, and she struggled to hold his full weight. She adjusted her left arm so that it was under his armpit and held him up.
She looked back and was glad to see that none of the men below had noticed her attack. Three of them had their backs to her. She leaned the man forward onto the wall, trying to hook the ties of his cloak over a jagged board on top of the wall, hoping that he’d stay upright. She didn’t need him to stay there for long, she just didn’t want him to hit the wooden boards and draw attention to her actions.
She softened her grip slowly, testing to see if the leather tie would hold the man.
It didn’t. No sooner did she loosen her grip did the leather snap. She didn’t bother trying to catch his body. She simply tossed off her cloak as she turned and sprang off of the platform toward the remaining men.
It was at least a ten foot fall, but she rolled as she hit the ground to absorb the impact. She heard the body of the other man crunch into the snow-covered ground behind her, but she ignored it.
She came out of her roll and closed the short distance in a hurry, bringing herself directly behind one of the men.
When her dagger found the throat of her next victim, one of the archers, two of the other men hadn’t even registered that there was anything wrong yet. As such, they hadn’t turned around and still had their backs to her. She ripped the dagger across the archer’s throat. As blood spurted from his neck, the eyes of the man across from her, the only one facing her so far, began to widen.
“What the—” the man next to her victim said, turning around to face her.