“The fucker knifed him,” Tasha said, turning Treda over.
Hana held up the torch over him. His whole shirt was drenched in blood and he had lost consciousness. Luc touched his face, and it flickered momentarily, his eyelashes fluttering against the shadows.
“He needs help,” Hana said. “A surgeon or a priest or…what do you have around here?”
Luc realized she was looking at him.
“I—”
“Who the hell is this, anyway?” Hana asked, turning back to Tasha.
“Bloody bystander,” Tasha murmured. “Saw me kill the other one. Didn’t have time to deal with him. You wanna stick him? I dropped my sword back there.”
“Hold on—” Luc said.
Hana scratched her head. “He looks harmless. Are you sure…?”
“If you’re losing your nerve, hand me your sword so I can do it.”
“But hiding the body—”
Treda groaned again.
“I know someone who could help,” Luc blurted out. “If you’ll spare my life, that is.”
“Obviously,” Tasha sniffed.
He turned to Hana, who seemed the more level-headed of the two. “I’ll take you to him. I don’t want him to die, anyway. That man back there, the one you killed…” He saw Tasha’s eyes dart towards him. “I knew him.”
“A friend?” Tasha asked with a growl.
“No,” Luc said. He swallowed. “I want to help. Please.”
“Take Treda back to the inn,” Hana said. “I’ll go with him.”
Tasha gave a nod. Hana gestured to Luc, and he followed her back through the gate. He noticed she had one hand on her sword, but that she didn’t look particularly worried otherwise. He took a moment to observe that she was dressed in all leather, including boots that probably cost more than a month’s supply of food at the farm. It felt out of place, considering that the face that looked up at him was of a girl who couldn’t be that much older than Ceri.
“Who are you people?” he found himself asking.
She smiled at him, tapping her sword a little. “You were going to find help for my friend.”
He flushed a little, and turned back to the task at hand. They left the alley and found themselves back on the street, where he was tempted, briefly, to try to alert the guards. But the thought didn’t last. These people might’ve killed Michell, but he’d killed one of their own, too, and he didn’t know enough about what had happened to judge one way or the other. They may have threatened to kill him, too, but he had given them his word, and Jak’s sons knew better than to break their promises. And anyway, they didn’t run into any guards, which removed that option from him in the first place.
He wondered how he would be able to defend himself if the woman decided to attack him. He didn’t know much about swords—that was something basic training up at Tilarthan would’ve taken care of, and he only knew how to use an axe and a scythe for harvesting. He didn’t even have a dagger on him.
They reached another narrow street, where he paused at the threshold of a house from where you could smell pig and duck shit. Hana remained smiling as Luc knocked on the door twice, but he saw her drew the sword slightly. He knew what the warning meant. One wrong move and she would cut him where he stood.
An old man peered out from behind the doorway. “Lucky?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “You’re up late. What happened? Everything all right back at Jak’s? Can’t be a goat, I know you’re all out of goats.” He glanced at Luc’s shirt and must’ve seen the blood, then. His expression grew sombre. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t have much time to explain,” Luc said. “Will you come?”
The old man glanced at the armed woman behind him. Realization dawned on his features. “It’s a person, isn’t it?”
Luc nodded.
The old man stepped back into his house and was gone for several moments. Luc turned back to Hana, who was sniffing the air listlessly. “He helps us with the sick animals, sometimes,” Luc said, before she could comment. “I’ve seen him stitch wounds from wolf and bear attacks. He knows what he’s doing.”
“He better,” Hana murmured. “With Oswyn dead, Treda can’t die, too.” Her eyes skipped back towards him. “Your man better save him.”
“We’ll try our best,” Luc said. “Please don’t hurt us. My family needs me.”
Chapter Three
Luc wondered, on the way back, if his words had any impact on Hana at all. She seemed largely unaffected by his pleading. The warm smile on her face now seemed cold, perpetually fixed there for some odd reason. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to know.
Hearing them with his own ears certainly seemed to change his perceptions of the night’s events. What had happened at Skellcilan now seemed to be a drop of water in an ocean in comparison. Amazing how quickly the wind could shift, how fear for your life could distort your perception in the time it took to snap your fingers. He rubbed his hands together, warming them with his breath as they walked. He could already tell that the clear night was going to give way to a foggy morning, maybe even the first frost for that winter. He should’ve gone home when he could. Jak would need help harvesting the last of the pumpkins, not to mention that he would probably be worried sick by now…
Tom, the livestock dealer, didn’t speak a word until they returned to the alley where they’d last left Treda. Only a dark stain remained where he had been lying on the street. Hana led them around the building, to the back door of what appeared to be an inn. They went past a narrow hallway and up a set of creaky stairs.
“Inside there,” Hana told Tom, pointing at the first door.
Tom grunted, and got to work. Luc tried to follow him, but Hana stopped him in his tracks. “Maybe he needs help,” Luc said.
“He’ll have more than enough hands to help him,” Hana replied. She gave another one of her small smiles. “I have to say…I was expecting you to lead me straight to the guards. I saw you trying to look for them out there.”
“I—”
“There’s no sense lying. It’s what I would’ve done myself. I just thought—well, it was almost kind that you didn’t. Almost.” She indicated a bench near the window. After a soft sigh, Luc slumped down.
“We have to go back for Oswyn’s body,” a man said, stepping out into the hall. He ignored Luc completely. “Those bastards might’ve stripped him naked.”
“They won’t,” Luc piped up.
The man turned to him now and he felt himself wilt under his gaze. He was scarred, like Tasha, though thin, with high cheekbones and hair the colour of straw. His eyes were very pale, weepy almost—it was the sharp turn of his brows that caught Luc’s attention. “A Gorenten,” he remarked. “Tasha was right. I almost didn’t believe it. Funny coincidence.”
Hana shrugged. “Seems fate was on our side tonight.”
“With Oswyn dead? Some fucking fate you believe in.”
“We could’ve lost Tasha and Treda, too. You know the damn guards would rather cut down mercenaries first and then ask questions later. And then it would really be trouble. How are we supposed to get home, then?”
“Home. Pah! You’re still going on about that? Nothing’s waiting for us back there, Hana.”
“A girl can dream.”
Luc swallowed. “You’re mercenaries.”
“He’s addled, isn’t he?” the man asked. “Dumb as a board.”
“Drunk,” Hana said with a smile. “Could smell it on him from ten paces away. But he’s been good to us so far.”
The man sat on the bench beside him. “We can’t be the first batch of mercenaries you’ve seen around here, boy. Not after Duke Iorwin’s announcement.”
“What announcement?” Luc asked.
Hana and the man exchanged glances. “Addled, I told you. Or at least been hiding under a rock.” The man snorted, his hand dropping to his belt. “Are we killing him?”
“Hold on,” Luc said, feeling his insides knot up. “She promised we walk out of th
is alive.”
Hana shrugged. “He’s been good, Demon. I told you. Do we really have time to be leaving dead bodies around?”
“Oswyn’s gone and all my patience with him,” Demon sneered. His teeth were yellowed, nearly black. “His sword would’ve fetched a good price, too. I’m telling you, Hana, we should’ve never gone here. This entire job reeked from the start.”
“Not even a job yet.”
“Which makes it worse. I’m not some hound or hire running around doing tricks in exchange for treats.”
“But that’s exactly what we are, Demon. No sense pretending otherwise.”
Demon scowled before drawing his knife—a long, jagged thing that glinted against the moonlight. Luc found himself bolting upright, his back to the wall. “This one has to go.”
Hana gave an exaggerated sigh. “Not here, Demon.”
“She promised—” Luc began.
“I know what I promised,” Hana said. “I’m sorry. I was hoping they’d see reason, but—”
“You didn’t even try,” Luc grumbled.
Demon brandished the knife at him. “We can’t have you running around telling the guards about us. You’ve seen our faces—”
“I don’t even know who you are!”
“—and heard our names,” Demon continued, looking a tad irritated that he would even dare interrupt.
Luc felt himself grow red with rage. “If I told the guards some man who calls himself Demon was responsible for all of this, do you honestly think they’d believe me?”
Hana and Demon traded looks before laughing both at once.
“Too risky,” Demon continued. “Can’t have word of this following us to Blackwood. I told you Hana, we should’ve never gone out here in the first place. Too late now for Oswyn. Fucking pompous bastard, I never did like him as boss. Now look what we got ourselves into. Killed by some snot-nosed kid.”
“I heard the man just drew a knife at him out of nowhere. While they were pissing.”
Demon laughed even harder. “Dead with his cock out! And not even in a brothel! What a way to go!”
“Don’t let Tasha hear that.”
“Of course not. I’m not going toe-to-toe with that bitch.” He wiped his eye, still grinning.
“If you kill me, you’ll have two murders on your hands,” Luc bristled.
Hana glanced at him. “You are a persistent little fucker, aren’t you?”
“Those are the worst,” Demon snorted. He wiped his nose. “Well, come on, then. Let’s get this over with. If you lie back it’ll be over quickly. Won’t even have to get rough.” He giggled at his own joke.
“If you want your friend’s sword, I can help you get it,” Luc said. “I know the man who takes care of the deadhouse, too. He keeps the deceased’s things until his family comes to claim them. He’ll let me get in there. But only if you let me leave alive and you let Tom go home without a scratch on him.”
Hana quirked an eyebrow. “Or else?”
Luc gave a soft sigh. “Try to kill me and I’ll scream really, really loud.”
~~~
The night stretched on, the longest Luc had ever experienced in his life. Sitting on a moonlit bench with his hands on his knees while watching a scarred man who called himself Demon casually sharpening a wicked-looking knife could do that. He thought of Alun and his father, and hated himself for what he knew he had done to an evening of what ought to have been a celebration. A drink to clear his head—that was all he had wanted. A drink in place of what was denied to him and the people waiting for him. And now it turns out even that might’ve been too much to ask for.
He stared at the edge of that blade. He didn’t think that he’d actually succeeded in talking them out of killing him. His weak threat had been…amusing, nothing more, a boy’s last ditch attempt to salvage what he could. They had laughed over it long enough to embarrass him, and then Hana left to go outside, leaving him alone with Demon. He was almost sure it was a sign that he was about to get his throat slit. He imagined the priest walking back to the village to tell them that Luc, too, had been found dead, just like Michell…poor Michell…
But Demon didn’t even talk to him again. Luc found himself glancing over at the man. He swallowed as he wondered if it was possible to take the knife from him during a fight. If he grabbed the man’s wrist fast enough…Demon was thinner than Luc, with bones that looked like they would snap if you hit them at just the right angle. Michell had been a lot bigger, in comparison.
The door to the room creaked open, stopping Luc from committing what might’ve been his last mistake. Tasha appeared, looking worn out. “Your goat surgeon’s a lot better than he looks,” she murmured, wiping a streak of blood off her face. “Treda’s still alive.”
Demon gave a grim smile. “The fuckface is hard to kill, unlike some.”
Tasha’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing. Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch. What’s next?” He nodded towards Luc. “I don’t want to watch this one any longer than I should. Do I look like a fucking nursemaid to you? Quick knife to the neck, hide his body out in the barrel in the alley…”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Tasha said. “It’s nearly dawn. The innkeeper’s awake.”
At her words, Luc suddenly felt like he could breathe easier. He realized he had been gripping his knees tightly and slowly uncurled his fingers.
“I can take him elsewhere…” Demon began.
“Fuck that. I want to…” Her eyes softened briefly. “I want to visit Oswyn.”
“You’ll walk out of there in chains,” Demon sneered.
“He got us out of Cairntown with the Boarshind on our asses,” she hissed. “He deserves better than this.”
“Maybe so, but getting ourselves all fucked over won’t do much for the poor bastard now,” Demon snorted. “They’ll know you, Tasha. You’re kind of hard to miss.”
She looked up at him. “And you?”
Demon laughed. “I’m not fucking risking myself just to make sure old Oswyn’s nice and comfortable in his coffin, if that’s what you’re asking!”
“Some friend you turned out to be,” Tasha growled. She took a deep breath. “There’s also the matter of the client.”
“Fucking hell—don’t tell me you still want us going all the way to Blackwood. Oswyn’s dead. Whatever for? We can just ditch this high-browed client of his and escape with our lives. Port Bluetree’s still back there, Tasha. There’s ships there, can take us anywhere we want…”
“Oswyn’s dead. Our client isn’t.”
“They’re out for our blood…”
“In Cairntown. Not Blackwood.”
Demon laughed. “Word gets out we’re seen in Blackwood and the damned Boarshind will be sniffing around there in no time. We’re too close for comfort. This client who isn’t even a client, who wants us to go to Blackwood and make pretty with this Duke Iorwin…what did he have on Oswyn, anyway? If his balls were in a bind, why were ours thrown into the mix?”
“Fuck if I know. Oswyn had his secrets, even from me.”
“Hard to believe that.”
“We made a deal. We’re getting paid. You want to jump on a ship now? Fine. You’ve got any fucking way to pay for it?”
Demon licked his lips.
“I thought so,” Tasha snorted. She looked away. “The client knows and will deal with me, even without Oswyn. Up in Blackwood, we’re supposed to join up with others to bolster our ranks and…”
Tasha glanced at Luc, as if just noticing him for the first time.
“I haven’t heard anything,” Luc murmured. “This is all just gibberish to me. Honest.”
Demon cleared his throat. “This one was saying he could get into the deadhouse and relieve Oswyn of his sword.”
Tasha’s expression changed. “Is that right?” she said, looking at Luc hard enough that it made him uneasy. He felt like a goat being appraised at the market. “He has proven useful so far, hasn’t he?�
��
Tom appeared at the doorway. “I’ve done what I can,” he said, wiping the blood on his lap. He glanced at Luc and then back at Tasha. “Are we free to go?”
Luc felt his throat tighten as Tasha deliberated over his words.
“You can,” she eventually said.
“Tasha—” Demon began, lifting his knife.
“He’ll be quiet. Won’t you, old man?” Tasha said. She pressed something into his hands.
Tom fingered the coin for several moments before placing it into his pocket. “And Lucky?”
“Ah,” Demon said, patting Luc’s shoulder. “He has a name. A very…ironic…name.”
“It’s Luc, actually,” he murmured.
Demon smiled.
“We’ll keep him,” Tasha said. “Seeing as to how it seems like you’re fond of him, it might help keep your mouth shut.”
Tom turned back to Luc with what appeared to be an expression of apology before he allowed himself through the back door.
“You can get to the deadhouse, you said,” Tasha said, returning to that look of appraisal again, except the goat’s been dragged off and butchered…Luc felt like a hunk of meat now and Tasha was a wolf, wondering if she could fit him into her mouth all at once.
“Says he knows people,” Demon said.
“He can speak for himself,” Tasha grunted. “Can you?”
“I suppose. Are you actually interested in what I have to say?”
Tasha laughed. “Don’t get testy with me, boy. We’ve just decided not to kill you. Yet. That can change in a heartbeat.”
“I’m aware.”
She nodded. “Come with me. You,” she said, pointing at Demon. “Keep an eye out for Treda. We’ll be back.” She placed a hand on Luc’s shoulder, one that felt like a vice, and all but dragged him out of the inn.
~~~
Mercenaries, as a rule, weren’t common around Crossfingers.
Crossfingers technically fell outside of Duke Iorwin Blackwood’s lands, right at the very western border of it, but it still formed part of Blackwood’s regular patrol. This, in addition to having a handful of its own guards and its location right between Port Bluetree and Blackwood, meant that trouble—the kind of trouble that plagued most of the Kag—rarely came about.
Blackwood Marauders Page 4
