Blackwood Marauders

by K. S. Villoso

  “And so,” the first ka-eng said, “he slipped, a little. Maybe not all the way at once. But unless you understand why you do the things you do, then perhaps you simply become this person who just tries to take what he can, even at the expense of others. Pleasure, wherever you can find it. Pain, if nothing else. Just for the chance to feel.”

  “Fuck you,” Jona hissed through the blood on his teeth. “Fuck all of you.”

  Luc tightened his fingers around his sword. Kill him, his thoughts screamed. But even without the ka-eng’s words, he didn’t think he could do it. He could have earlier, in the heat of the battle if his sword had been fortunate enough to make a fatal strike. Now…

  Now all he could think of was his father and how that moment of death did not define his life or what he stood for. He could feel only that same warmth that came whenever his father wrapped him up in his arms—now, when he was supposed to be full of hate for the man who took him away from him. He didn’t understand it. It still hurt, it hurt to know he would have to live out his life for the chance to ever see him again, if Forrehsi values were to be believed. Never, if the old ways were right—never again, and so he would never have anything more than his fading memories and whatever else he could carry inside his heart.

  Perhaps he just didn’t want the rage to eclipse the love.

  “Enough of this bullshit,” Roena said. She sounded exhausted. “He made his choices. Now he pays for them.” Without waiting to see what any of them would say in response, she walked up to Jona and slid her blade into his throat.

  Luc watched impassively as Jona’s blood spurted onto the ground. The man’s eyes were still hard, though they were rimmed with red now. Was it tears or water running down his cheeks? Luc couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. In his last ditch effort to save his own life, Jona tried to grab her sword, as if he could pull it out of him like the beast back at Windroost had done. But his fingers never even touched the blade. Roena kicked him away herself and watched as his body followed the monster down into the depths of his murky grave.

  “What about you two?” Roena asked, turning to the ka-eng. “Do we finish what we started now?”

  “Oh, no, no,” the second sister said, shaking her head so hard that her ears flapped. “We didn’t want to fight you. You attacked us first.”

  “Which became unfortunate for at least two souls,” the first sister added, glancing at the gap with an expression of remorse. “I’m hoping not to add any more. We’re finished with what we came here to do, anyway. I’m glad we’re not killing each other right now. We wouldn’t want to overstay that welcome.”

  “Why are you people doing this?” Luc asked.

  “We told you,” the first sister replied. “We’re just protecting our own.”

  “You don’t want Iorwin stripping your forests bare,” Luc said. “I get that. That’s commendable. But the children…was it necessary to get the children involved? Just so you can send Blackwood a warning?”

  The ka-eng looked at him and were silent for a moment.

  “What children?” Roena asked.

  Luc wiped his face. “If you had to bring these monsters here—this one, and the one in Toskthar, at least—then that means that someone else has been taking children from the villages. And they’re not coming back any time soon, are they? Are they?” He lifted his sword.

  The first sister held her hand out, touching the tip of his blade. “Little Luc,” she breathed. “You are smart. Leave it there. There are things that even your understanding cannot change.”

  “You could threaten us,” the second sister added. “Maybe you could even defeat us. Stranger things have happened. Perhaps at the edge of despair, you can even squeeze the truth from our lips. What would that do? Would you run forward then, play the hero and stop a disaster before it occurs?” She placed her own hand on Luc’s shoulder. “You haven’t even stopped this one yet.”

  “One thing at a time, little one,” the first sister laughed. “And then, perhaps…perhaps!”

  “Until we meet again,” the second sister added.

  They drifted away from him like always, swirling and then disappearing like the breeze.

  ~~~

  “Are you all right, Luc?” Roena asked.

  The glassy-eyed stare disappeared. He slowly got to his feet, though he was shaking a little. “We need to go to your father,” he murmured. The words seem to restore some sense into him.

  “I know,” she replied. She wiped the blood on her blade on her hip and came up to him. “I’m asking about you. If the thought of killing someone is too hard for you, then maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

  He swallowed. She knew her words stung, knew everything was still raw for him. Unfair, but that was how life was. He wasn’t a child she had to coddle. They had taken care of the loudest of the group, but there were still others.

  “I’m not here to kill, Roena,” Luc said. “I told you that. I think we can fight without…without turning into him, can’t we?”

  Roena snorted. “He was weak. He took things too personally. Men like that think they don’t, and then they become slaves to their own uncertainties.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, touching his face briefly. “I can’t promise this will get any easier. Learn to harden your heart around whatever truths you choose.”

  “Which one have you decided on?”

  Before she could reply, she saw two figures emerge from the top of the hill. She smiled, recognizing Caiso’s red hair against the pale moonlight. “Have you come to avenge your fallen companion?” she called out.

  Caiso strode forward, followed by Tasha. He glanced nervously at the blood on her tunic. “You actually killed the mad dog,” Caiso said, a hint of amazement in his voice. “Well-done. Did he trip on a root or something?”

  “How about you come here and find out?”

  “Fucking children don’t know to stay out of it,” Tasha broke in.

  Roena turned to face her. “Where’s my father, bitch?”

  “He’s on his way. The men are in place—there’s nothing you can do about it anymore.”

  “He doesn’t have to die, Tasha,” Luc said. “We butchered Iorwin’s plans. The lumber didn’t pass the inspection. Ylir and Lady Isobel will get what they want after all. Call them off.”

  “Do you think I give a fuck?” Tasha asked. “I’m here to do one thing, and if you’re here to stop me, then I suppose I’ll have to take care of you too.”

  “I’m not sure you want to do that,” Caiso warned. “Ylir yn Garr seems fond of her.”

  “Then he should’ve found a better way to leash her.”

  “He tried that, remember? With Jona?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Luc asked.

  Caiso rubbed the back of his head. “None of us knew this at the time, Luc, but…Ylir yn Garr might’ve paid Jona to kill your father. Jona was an idiot, don’t get me wrong, but he wasn’t a mindless murderer. I think Yn Garr just wanted you out of the picture and saw an opportunity. And because of Roena’s involvement with you, I think he was hoping it would draw Roena away from us while we finished this.”

  Roena felt her blood curdle at the words. “That son of a bitch just doesn’t know when to stop, does he?”

  Caiso took a deep breath. “Not for us to decide,” he said. “That’s all part of this. Mercenaries who sit around discussing the nuances of morality and philosophy tend not to get rehired or recommended.” He gave a grim smile. “What did you expect, Roena? It doesn’t matter what reasons brought you here. We’re supposed to be professionals.”

  “Would you step away if it was your own father?”

  Caiso’s eyes gleamed. “Quite probably, yes. Wouldn’t sink the blade myself, but I can imagine turning my back while another did the deed. It’s easy enough. We all know I’m not fond of the man.”

  “Says someone not in my position.”

  Caiso bowed. “What else can I say?”

  “Enough talk,” Tasha snapped. She
charged.

  Roena sucked in her breath as she met the assault. Tasha didn’t senselessly hammer at her the way Jona had did, but she had better footwork, better skill. Coupled with Roena’s exhaustion from her last battle, she realized there wasn’t a lot room for error. Tasha wasn’t playing. She wanted her dead.

  A sharp whistle sounded in the distance. “That’s the signal,” Caiso said.

  “Shit!” Tasha snarled. “You take care of this.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t have time for this!” She drew away and began to run. Roena tried to chase after her, but Caiso blocked the way.

  “Just turn your back,” Caiso said. “Easiest thing.”

  “Who taught you to fight, Caiso? Was it one of Lord Willen’s bargain swordmasters? Maybe someone he picked up off the streets of Tilarthan? Your stance is all wrong.”

  Caiso smiled at her attempt at an insult. “If you must know, Lady Roena, I didn’t take much interest in swordfighting while I was in my father’s home, to his regret. It was always a cause of friction between us.”

  “I really didn’t want to listen to your life story, too. Bad enough we had to hear Jona’s.” She lunged. Caiso deflected her with a laugh.

  “I did pick up what I could once I was out on the streets. What was it they called me? A late bloomer?”

  She lunged again; he parried, striking her in the belly with the tip of his sword. She heard Luc cry out.

  “Fuck—” She pressed one hand against the wound to stifle the blood and tried to strike again. Caiso backed away, both hands in the air.

  “I meant what I said about not wanting to kill you,” Caiso said with a grin. “It wasn’t part of the contract. I will if I have to, but I don’t like giving my services for free, and I really do think Ylir yn Garr wants to keep you around.” He pointed at her belly. “That’s not fatal, unless you’re careless. A couple of stitches, a bit of dressing—”

  She swung at him a second time. He took another step back. She was getting dizzy. A moment later, she felt Luc beside her.

  “Kill him,” she hissed.

  “I think it’s over, Roena,” Luc whispered. “Tasha’s ahead of us. I don’t know what else we can do.”

  “Draigar’s on his way,” Roena replied.

  “About that,” Caiso broke in. “He’s uh…incapacitated.”

  “You piece of shit!”

  “Well, we knew he’d be on us sooner or later. Ylir had specifically asked to make sure he doesn’t interfere, too. Don’t worry,” Caiso added. “If he’s smart—like I’m asking you to be—he might pull through. I was told the men did their best to be…gentle…with him.”

  “You’re just laughing at the chance to hack your way through the Hafed gentry, are you?” Roena snarled.

  Caiso shook his head. “Believe it or not, that wasn’t why I chose this life. Oh, I had my qualms about everyone, just like you do, but I wanted—needed—a fresh start. If anything, this is a little too close for comfort—I didn’t know someone like Jona, of all people, would have the connections to acquire a job like this. I’ve been keeping myself out of sight as best as I could. I’ve never met Lady Isobel before, but I don’t want to give her a reason to recognize me, either.” He shrugged.

  She took a step towards him, feeling like the insides of her stomach were spilling through her fingertips. “You little shit…”

  Caiso grinned. “Say what you will. I have a feeling I don’t want anything to do with whatever Ylir yn Garr is planning. Maybe that will change in a few years. But for now, I’ll be off to Port Bluetree on the next ship if this continues.”

  “If my father dies, I’ll make sure they know your involvement,” Roena said. “You’re fools, all of you. Does Ylir really think I’ll still work with him when I’m Duchess Blackwood? Is he so arrogant that he thinks I’ll be enamoured with him once all of this is done? That I’d even thank him for it? You’d have killed Duke Iorwin for nothing.” She took another step, crying as she pushed against the wound. The smile on Caiso’s face faded as he watched her walk past him.

  “You are your father’s daughter,” he murmured.

  She ignored him. Perhaps he meant it as praise. She heard it as an insult. She made her way around the hill, towards the wall. She could barely feel anything now against the hot blood, but she could still stand, and for as long as she could stand, she could walk. No one was allowed to kill her father, not on her watch.

  Against her swimming vision and the smell of her own blood, she almost didn’t notice the body until she stumbled over it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was one of the mercenaries.

  “Artor,” Caiso said behind them. One of the men who had been with him and Jona when they first joined Tasha and Luc’s group. Dead, now. There was a slash on the left side of his neck—a silent kill, one he never had the chance to defend himself against. His sword was still sheathed.

  Luc reached out to help Roena up before turning to the body. “Still warm,” he said. “Must’ve happened while we were still talking.”

  “Talking,” Caiso repeated with a snort. “I really like you, Luc. Have I ever said that?”

  “That must be why you stabbed me and not him,” Roena murmured.

  “Don’t hold it against me. You were trying to do the same thing.” Caiso’s face grew serious as he caught sight of something near the ditch. “Agartes help us, that’s Stout over there.” He didn’t even try to approach—from the way the man’s body was angled in the water, he couldn’t be alive, either. His blood was running into the stream.

  “Was it Tasha?” Luc asked.

  Caiso ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. They were supposed to take care of Iorwin’s guards.” He turned to Roena. “I call a truce for now.”

  “Fuck off,” Roena growled.

  “This isn’t going as planned,” he said with a grimace. “You need me, I need you. Let’s not be children about this. Luc—are there others with you?”

  “Hana and Treda, but they’re back on the other side. We were counting on Draigar to take care of the rest.”

  Caiso swore under his breath. “We came in through the drainage gate on this side,” he said. “We were supposed to ambush Iorwin past the bridge, until we learned you’d gone and stirred the monster up. Jona bolted when he heard you were here and we had to improvise.” He drew his sword and slowly walked up the path.

  Luc followed his lead with his own sword. “Can you walk?” he asked Roena.

  “Walking’s easy,” Roena grumbled. “Don’t know if I can fight, now.”

  “Keep behind me, then. I don’t know if we can trust him.”

  “We can’t trust anyone,” she whispered.

  I trust you, he wanted to say. Probably better he didn’t. She wasn’t the sort of woman who liked hearing those things. It helped that he was sure of the sentiments that got them this far. Maybe that was enough. What was that she said—that he had to harden his heart around whatever truth he decided?

  He hardened it now around the belief that he was going to fight his way through this without losing himself. Easy enough to think with the silence around him and the shadows of the drainage tunnel Caiso was leading them through. They reached the gate and he heard Caiso give another groan.

  There were two bodies there, now, half-submerged in the water. One was the third man from Jona’s group. The other was Demon.

  Luc bent down beside the figures. “Gods,” he murmured. “Who did this?”

  Demon’s hand suddenly shot up to grab his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open.

  “You son of a bitch—” Demon began. And then his expression changed when he recognized Luc. “You,” he breathed. His fingers were caked with blood. “They said you were here. I almost didn’t believe them.”

  Luc bent down to touch his skin. It was surprisingly warm. He hoisted Demon out of the water and saw a single wound from his armpit and down his rib. “Who did this?” he asked. “We saw the rest back there.
They’re all dead.”

  “Yn Garr,” Demon hissed. “Ylir yn Garr.”

  “He tried to kill you?” Roena broke in. “I thought he hired you to kill my father.”

  “Everyone thought that,” Demon snarled. “Fuck if I know what he’s trying to do. Didn’t even stay around for a clean fight. Did something to me. Something…I don’t know. I can’t remember. I blacked out.” He glanced away, as if ashamed to even admit it.

  “I mean if he wanted to kill Iorwin himself, he could’ve just said so.” Caiso sighed. “I’ll stay here with him.”

  “You’re such a coward,” Roena said dryly.

  “Your father,” Caiso grinned. “Not mine.”

  Perhaps he had a reason to be afraid. They continued along the wall where it wrapped around the hill. Two more bodies lay on the path, their blood pouring down the stone steps. Luc recognized Ston and one of his companions. Bloody footprints led away from the scene, which must account for the rest of his men. Luc wondered if they were able to escape or if they would find them stiff on the grass somewhere.

  Roena seemed to have reached her own conclusion about the bodies and said nothing as she walked over them. He swallowed and picked up his feet to follow her.

  Off in the distance, they heard voices and saw the flicker of light from torches.

  He motioned for Roena to stay back, expecting her to argue. But her injury must’ve been graver than he thought, because she squeezed his arm before stepping aside. He continued up the steps, which opened up to a flat plateau from where you could see the rest of the wall below. The tall grasses and brush bent with every gust from the wind.