by Howell, Rob
“Thank you.”
She smirked and left.
The ravaged man shrugged and shambled up the stairs. I went outside to wait next to Deor and the others.
It probably did not take days for Gibroz and his people to get prepared. It probably only took half an hour. Yet it seemed like centuries as we waited to start the chase. Suzana rode up, uncomfortably leading three other horses. Soon after that, Gibroz, Andreyev, and Gabrijela exited the den.
Gibroz looked up at me. “You know you’re fuckin’ dead if you’re wrong.”
“I’m not wrong. But they have a two- to three-hour head start, so let’s get riding. I’ll explain more on the way.”
It was clear Gibroz and his people did not ride often or well. I led us out into a walking trot.
“Why the fuck are we going so damned slow? I want to get this fuckin’ over with. Someone’s goin’ to fuckin’ die, and I’m not waitin’ any fuckin’ longer than I have to.”
“Feel free to gallop ahead, if you’re feeling stupid. We’ll pass you and your lame horse soon enough.” I laughed at the look on his face. “Horses can ride for hours at this pace. We’ll be resting every hour, too. If we can catch them, it will be at this speed.”
“And how the fuck do you know where we’re fuckin’ goin’?”
“I’ve been watching Markov for months. I never liked him.”
“You that mad about the fuckin’ shoes?” Gibroz laughed.
“I never even got to wear them.”
Gibroz laughed and laughed.
A pleasant surprise awaited us at the South Gate. Piri waited, standing next to a horse.
“A wagon with an older woman and four or five men passed here about two hours ago. They weren’t going slow, so we’re going to need to hustle, but that will make it harder for them to slip off the road to avoid us.”
“Four or five men?”
“Yes. Markov has guards.”
“Wonderful. And why are you here?”
“Sebastijan sent word to me Markov was fleeing.”
Sebastijan nodded. “I’d have told you, but just waking you was trouble enough.”
I shrugged and rode Deor through the gate. The other seven followed. Piri stayed at the back to help Gibroz and his people. Sebastijan rode ahead of us, scouting as he had done on the trip to the Bardheküülle. Maja rode at my side.
I spent most of the ride trying to avoid bouncing too much. My wound was healed, but my mind did not completely accept that fact, and my body still ached. Their choice to take a wagon made the chase much easier, as it is hard to hide a wagon on the side of the road, though a horse-drawn wagon could travel faster than a person on foot.
Zoe had packed food in our bags, something I did not notice. Piri had also packed food and water in her efficient way, so we were not famished when we spotted their wagon cresting a hill near midday. They had been joined by four riders.
“Piri, get up here,” I shouted behind me. “Maja, go forward and tell Sebastijan to wait for us.”
After a few minutes Piri and I cantered up to Maja and Sebastijan, who matched speeds.
“This might turn into a cavalry battle.”
Piri sighed. “Yes.”
“Do any of you have any cavalry experience? Gibroz and his people won’t help, at least until the knifework.” In truth, they were lagging behind, exhausted. None of us rode such distances frequently, but it must have been years since they had. Gabrijela looked especially haggard, and I wondered if she could use her magic.
Piri and Sebastijan nodded, though Sebastijan did not look pleased at the prospect.
“Maja?”
She shook her head. “I just rode all the time as a kid.”
“Not the same thing at all.”
“Do you, Sevener?” she asked.
“Yes, years in the Periaslavlan steppes.” I shook my head in thought. “Right now, let’s use Gibroz and his people as a distraction. If it’s us four against their four, I think they might have the advantage. Let’s hope they’re not actual cavalrymen or we’re in trouble. However, if they’re aiming at Gibroz and his people, then maybe we’ll get some openings.”
“What are you thinking,” asked Piri?
“We put Gibroz and his people in the middle while you and I lead with Maja and Sebastijan on the flanks. We make it look like we’re just trying to get them close to the wagon.”
“Think they can do that? It’ll mean they’ll have to ride harder than they have.”
“I don’t know, but I do know I’d rather risk them and give us an advantage than not.”
Sebastijan chuckled. “You are learning.”
I glared at him.
“Let’s get Gibroz,” said Piri before I could snap back.
We slowed to allow them to catch up.
“Markov’s up ahead with help. Something like eight men, including four on horseback.”
He grunted his acknowledgement, too tired to tell me to fuck off.
“We’re going to let you deal with Markov’s people. Piri, Sebastijan, Maja, and I will deal with the horsemen. For this to work though, we need you to ride at our heels so we can punch you through. Then all you have to do is catch up to the wagon.”
He peered toward the wagon and its escorts ahead of him and he nodded.
“So we’ll keep riding to catch up to them and when we’re close, we’ll strike.”
He grunted again. Sebastijan rode up to assume the lead again. Piri and Maja rode up slightly ahead.
I dropped back to ride next to Gabrijela. “How are you?”
“I hurt, dear. You sure know how to wake a girl in the most romantic ways.”
I smiled. “I’ll try for flowers next time.”
She grinned tightly at me.
“Can you use your magic, or are you too tired? When you all get past the screen, Gibroz is going to need your skills, I bet.”
“I can do my job.”
“Good. I’ll count on that.”
She smiled and returned her concentration on riding.
I cantered back up to Piri and Maja.
“Maja, I want you to take the rear.” She started to protest but I cut her off. “I need you there because I can rely on you, not because I can’t.”
“What?”
“I need someone to make sure Gibroz and them push when I need them to push. Are you as good fighting on horseback as either Piri or Sebastijan?”
“Uh...”
“Be quiet, niece, it’s no shame that you’re not,” snapped Piri.
Maja sighed.
“Right,” I said. “I have to pick one of you three, and it’s going to be the one least able to win the fight at the front. That’s you. Now get back there and be ready. You’ll get your chance to fight, I’ve no doubt.”
She shrugged and allowed the criminals to pass her.
Up ahead, I realized that Markov had seen us and accelerated out of sight.
“Good,” I said to Piri, resisting the urge to push us faster than our trot. “Our horses will have something left when we get close, and his won’t.”
She nodded. “He’s not a cavalryman, that’s for sure.”
I laughed. “Good for us. Won’t help his guards, either.”
She chuckled, and we turned our attention to the grim patience of the chase. We focused on making sure we did not lose them or run into an ambush. Twice Sebastijan lifted an arm and we slowed to a walk, much to the relief of riders and horses, but he soon waved us onward.
In about ten minutes we regained sight of Markov. In about twenty, they rode merely a field or so ahead of us. As we curved between two large hills, we were close enough to see one of the wagon horses die beneath Markov’s whip. His riders wheeled around as the wagon stopped. Sebastijan reined in so we could gather together, I yelled at Maja, and we got ready to charge.
I bared my teeth as I realized the ones in front of us were not expert cavalrymen, no matter their other fighting skills. I held us back from charging too impe
tuously, but as the distance closed I finally let Deor lead out in a canter that everyone else could manage.
Our horses were not fresh, but our pace meant they were not leaden with fatigue. Markov’s guards accelerated to meet our cantering charge, but their horses stumbled. One almost fell, pushing its rider’s sword and small shield out of position. I forgot about the rider as I saw Sebastijan take aim at him.
“Piri, take the one on the far left.” I felt more than saw her shift her focus. I pointed my aim between the two in the middle. With shield and sword ready, I muttered to Deor. “Now’s your time to shine, lad.”
He shook his head and let out a mighty neigh.
I led him to run right along the horse to our left. At the last moment, I leaned out to bash my shield into the horse’s muzzle. In its fatigued state it reared and stumbled, tossing the rider to the ground.
At the same time, I threw a cleaving shot at the one to my right. He managed to get his shield around to block the shot, but I was not disappointed. Blocking my shot would reduce the power on his return blow. I was right, though the combined momentum of our charges meant his blow still hammered me. Nevertheless, it bounced off of my scale armor and Deor kept me in the saddle as we went through their line.
I had created a hole for Gibroz and the others, so I spurred Deor onward. Piri, Maja, and Sebastijan could deal with the remaining riders. Ahead, the four guards in the wagon had jumped out and formed a line before us. Gibroz and his people slid off their horses well before the line, so they could marshal their own line.
Meanwhile, Markov ran up the hill on a path that Deor surely could not climb. I slid off Deor to follow, but realized suddenly that my armor had become extremely warm. I looked up to see Markov’s grandmother focusing intently on me, her face twisted into the Great Wolf’s snarl, holding more rage than I thought a person could.
Land magic, I fairly shouted to myself, dropped Ragnar’s shield, and frantically undid the buckles to the let the armor drop.
As my armor clattered to the road, one of Markov’s men rushed me, but I picked up the shield and was somewhat in position when he reached me. I took advantage of his charge’s lack of control, and instead of swinging my sword awkwardly, I stepped into him with my shield as he passed, sending him into the hillside.
I had lost awareness of the battlefield, so I simply sprang ahead towards the trail Markov had climbed. The rush of a missed blow past my neck and a shouted curse rewarded my decision, and I simply kept going, charging up the hill’s path.
Gasping, I reached the top. Markov stood there beside a bag of money and holding two shorter swords.
“There’s nowhere to go, Markov.”
“I know I’m a dead man, Sevener, but I’m glad you got here first. I should have killed you when we were kicking you on the street. I’m going to finish that now.”
He stepped forward quickly, feinting a jab with his right sword, prompting me to angle me shield to block that thrust away. He stepped in immediately with the sword in his left hand slashing at the gap that opened when my shield moved. I managed to slide my blade between us to block that slash.
From that point on I barely remember the fight. Markov used his two swords aggressively, throwing shot after shot at me. Somehow I managed to keep my shield and sword between his swords and my body, though it was not easy.
Fortunately, no one can keep up that kind of pace forever. In the midst of a flurry he hesitated, and I flipped my wrist for a quick slash along his left arm. The cut was not deep, but it forced him to drop the sword in that hand.
Markov’s reaction was to attack even more ferociously. He pounded at my shield again and again, and if he did not like to beat people with his fists, he showed no hesitation to beat people with his sword. Eventually, he managed to drive my shield down far enough to find an opening to stick his sword through my left shoulder.
I gasped in pain, dropping Ragnar’s shield, but his attack had left him open. Desperately, I thrust my sword through his chest, crunching through his ribs in my own rage and fear.
He stumbled back off of my blade. He glared, trying to curse me once more but all he could manage was to spit blood in my direction. He nearly teetered off of the cliff, but tripped forward to fall face down about two feet away.
My breath heaved as I collected myself. I kneeled and hacked off the remains of my left sleeve with my sword and used the cloth to clean my sword. I tried to sheathe it, but my hands were shaking too much so I placed it on the ground before me and took deep, shuddering breaths.
Gibroz, Andreyev, and Gabrijela arrived then. They moved to stand over Markov’s body by the cliffside.
“Piri’s down below just in case,” said Sebastijan, who had followed them up the hill with Maja. She started fussing at my shoulder wound.
Andreyev picked up the bag. “It’s fuckin’ gold, Gibroz. More than this fucker should have.” He kicked Markov.
Gibroz looked at the bag, looked at Markov, and then at me. “Get his shoes, Sevener.”
I stared at him, not comprehending his words immediately.
“Get his fuckin’ shoes!”
I rose painfully and went over to kneel at Markov’s feet. I took off the turnshoes that Markov had stolen from me about a month before. Then, Gibroz kicked Markov’s body off of the cliff into the pine trees along the mountainside.
He turned without a word and walked away. Andreyev followed—after punching my wounded shoulder and smirking at my gasp of pain.
Gabrijela paused for a moment.
“He’ll want to talk to you soon. Better you come to him than he has to hunt you down.”
I nodded.
“Tomorrow?”
She nodded and started to speak, but I cut her off.
“Tomorrow is fine for all of us to talk.”
She also reached out to my wounded shoulder, but she caressed it softly for but a brief moment and then followed Gibroz.
Chapter 50
Midday, 30 Heamoanne, 1712 MG
The last morning of Heamoanne was cloudy and rainy. Not cold, of course, not in this terribly hot place, but at least clouds defeated the sun’s legions. The clouds also suited my mood. I wore a madder-dyed tunic, my last surviving tunic from the Seven Kingdoms. It reminded me of my past, which made me think of my future.
I sighed and looked at the table. My sword and saex sat on it, alongside the blades of Piri, Sebastijan, and Maja. We had spent the morning cleaning them.
My body ached everywhere from the long ride the day before, but nobody laughed at me. We were all sore. Even Maja was quiet. My shoulder hurt, but Zoe’s salve had done its usual wonders, and Ragnar’s ale had helped too. We had all drained several mugs of it after a lunch of shopska salads and a light soup with chicken.
The taproom was mostly empty for the first time in months. Honker and his family had gratefully packed up and gone home that morning. I had promised Ludmilja that I would visit and that she and I would ride Deor soon.
Everyone carefully did not notice the tears in my eyes as Ludmilja walked away.
“So they’re safe?” asked Piri.
“Yes. Markov is the only one who had a reason to attack them. I guess he worried that they had seen him and the two Gimerrai at the picnic. Foolish, really, because we wouldn’t have found them if they hadn’t attacked him. The connection between the Gimerrai that Petros saw was the important thing.”
“And Markov was behind all of this?”
I did not answer.
“Sevener,” prodded Piri. “Markov was behind all of this?”
I smiled at Piri. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Who was?”
I shrugged but gave no other answer.
“You know but won’t tell us.”
I shrugged again. “We have to visit Gibroz’s.”
“We expected so,” said Sebastijan. “Fortunately, I bet they’re sorer from the ride than we are.”
“Andreyev may bet on horses, but he sure as Hades doesn’t rid
e them.” Maja laughed.
“Our pitcher’s empty anyway.” Piri chuckled. “Might as well give Ragnar time to brew some more.”
We laughed and started returning blades to their appropriate spots.
“We’ll be back in a while. We have to tell Gibroz to fuck off,” I shouted to Ragnar.
Zoe leaned out of the kitchen. “Edward!”
“Sorry, Zoe.” My grin abated not at her disapproving eyebrow.
“I’m not stitching you up again. Not today at least.”
I laughed and led the four of us out of the Faerie. The sun was now peeking through the clouds, which had started to flee. It would be bright and sunny by midafternoon.
This time the ravaged man at Gibroz’s merely nodded and led us upstairs. Gibroz and his people looked exhausted. Vladan was the only one who did not, and I bet Gibroz’s temper had made him keep quiet all morning.
“Well, here you fuckin’ are.”
“I need to thank Markov’s ghost for breaking in my shoes. They’re very comfortable. Which of the godlings in this damned city should I go to?” I leaned back and waved my foot at Gibroz.
“I don’t know as I’ve ever fuckin’ met anyone as fuckin’ crazy as you.”
“Maybe not. What idiot would get involved in this sort of thing in the first place?”
He grunted a laugh. “Now tell me what you fuckin’ couldn’t yesterday.”
“Markov has been skimming from your lake trade. He was hoping you’d blame Ylli, which you did. As your money guy, he could hide what he was doing, and carrying money would not be suspicious.”
“I fuckin’ knew all that. How the fuck did you fuckin’ find out?”
“He got stupid. He beat up Honker.”
“And made you a fuckin’ watchdog.”
I nodded. “Exactly, but he also used the same guys that he always used, and then left a witness who saw everything. Not only did he give me a way to identify the men I killed two days ago after leaving here, he did it in the way he always did things.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
