Ghostwalker (Book 1)

by Ben Cassidy

  Jade turned her attention back to the table in front of her. Maklavir stood alongside her, looking around as well. To his immediate right were Kendril and Joseph.

  “Are you all right, Jade?” Maklavir whispered.

  She nodded, her arms still tied behind her back. “Yes. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps—”

  “Quiet,” came Kara’s stern voice. She moved around to the other side of the table.

  Another thief came up to the table, taking off his gloves and slapping them down onto the wood. His hair and beard were the same fiery red as Kara’s, and his clothes were the simple brown and green tunic and cloak that all the other bandits wore. He gave all four prisoners a sly look.

  “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with a dark smile. “You must be hungry. Henrigan, get them something to eat.”

  One of the nearby bandits reached over to the fire, and began to rip off some of the roasted meat that hung over the flames.

  Jade saw Kara lean over, and whisper something into the red-haired man’s ear. He gave Jade a thoughtful look for a moment, then nodded towards Kara. The female thief rose silently, and disappeared in the direction of one of the huts.

  “What do you want from us?” Kendril’s voice was unusually quiet. “You already have all our possessions.”

  The red-haired man smiled. He grabbed a roll and bit into it himself. “I’m afraid that is not sufficient. You will all be required to inform your next of kin, or any friends you may have, of your predicament. When they have paid the proper amount you will be released.” He motioned to a nearby bandit, who brought several pieces of parchment, along with a feather quill in a pot of ink. “We only have one pen, I’m afraid, but you can take turns.”

  Jade gave him a quizzical look. “I’m sorry? Take turns--?”

  “Writing your ransom notes,” the man replied. He pointed with his roll to the parchments. “If you need more ink, just let us know. In the meantime, please enjoy your meal.”

  Maklavir gave Jade a quick glance. “I see. I’m afraid there might be a problem with that, Mr.--?”

  The bandit swallowed his bite. “Torin. And what would that be?”

  The diplomat glanced over at one of the nearby bandits. “I’m afraid my companion has no memory of who she is, or where she comes from. I am not sure to whom we would write.”

  Torin’s eyes flashed dangerously, though the smile remained on his face. “Yes, so I’ve heard. Fortunately, I think I might have a very simple solution for that.”

  Maklavir straightened. “What do you mean?”

  “He means me.”

  A sudden voice came from their right, causing all four of the captives to turn their heads.

  A man stepped into the firelight, taking a bite out of an apple in his hand.

  Jade felt her insides freeze.

  It was Montrose.

  Chapter 18

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Torin glanced over at Kara, scratching his chin. “I don’t trust him either, little sister. He’s a bounty hunter, after all. But he’s paying good money for the girl, and that’s what counts.”

  Kara turned her eyes back to the table behind them. Montrose sat by the fire, carefully counting out pieces of gold. She turned back to Torin, keeping her voice low.

  “Has he said why he wants her?”

  “No. And frankly, I don’t want to know. As long as his gold is good I don’t care.”

  Kara looked down at the ground for a moment. “Are you sure this is wise?”

  Torin put his hand on her shoulder. “You worry too much, Kara. Once the bounty hunter takes the girl then she’s no longer our problem.”

  “There,” came Montrose’s voice from behind them. “One hundred fifty gold coins. You can count them, if you like.” He slid a small purse of coins towards them.

  Torin stepped forward, picked up the bag and weighed it in his hand.

  “I will.” He glanced up at the bounty hunter. “Why do you want her so badly, anyway?”

  “That’s my business, not yours.” Montrose got up from the chair and moved around the table. Uther followed behind him, with a nervous glance at Torin and Kara. Further back by the fire Calham was sitting with a tankard of ale in one hand and a chunk of roasted meat in the other.

  Montrose stopped in front of the line of prisoners. He smiled at Kendril.

  “Looks like I’ve finally won, Ghostwalker.” He leaned in, and the smile vanished from his face. “Too bad my crossbow bolt didn’t kill you back at the bridge.”

  Kendril returned the man’s gaze. “With your aim? Doubtful.”

  Without warning Montrose slammed his elbow into the Ghostwalker’s left side. Kendril fell to his knees, gasping from the pain.

  Jade took a half step forward.

  Montrose turned in her direction. “You’ve eluded me long enough,” he said in a low voice. He stopped in front of her, his one eye coldly appraising the beautiful young woman before him. “But I always get my prey.”

  Kendril was still on the ground, coughing.

  Joseph glanced down at him, but with his arms still tied there was nothing he could do.

  Montrose turned to his men. “Uther, Calham, let’s go. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

  Kara sat down at the table. Her eyes flitted doubtfully back and forth between Jade and Montrose.

  “Leaving so soon?” said Torin casually.

  Montrose grabbed his hat off the table. “Business calls.”

  The bandit chief nodded, and opened his mouth to speak.

  The sudden blaring of several trumpets, their harsh cries rebounding across the meadow, drowned his voice out.

  Startled, Torin went for his sword.

  The bandit next to him lurched abruptly back, a crossbow bolt protruding from his chest.

  Another bolt slammed into the table next to Torin, sending chips of wood flying.

  Montrose spun, his mace already in his hand.

  The trumpets were deafening, filling the night air with sudden panic and alarm.

  The camp was being attacked.

  Torin pulled out his sword and shouted commands at the nearest bandits, who were standing nearby with looks of complete terror on their faces.

  Kara drew her sword as well, and looked over to her brother.

  Montrose grabbed Jade by the arm and yanked her forward.

  Uther fumbled with his crossbow as Calham ran over to them, his hand already on his weapon. He got two feet before a crossbow bolt hit him in the neck.

  Joseph and Maklavir dove to the ground beside Kendril, their hands still tied behind them.

  All around was chaos. Crossbow bolts flew through the air as thick as darting bees. Several bandits were already lying dead or wounded on the ground.

  Across the clearing a band of riders wearing white tunics broke from the tree line and urged their horses across the grassy meadow at full gallop.

  Torin turned to yell an order, but was just in time to see another band of riders coming from the other direction, accompanied by the flash and roar of several pistols being fired in the night air.

  Uther tried desperately to load his crossbow. “What’s going on?” he shouted.

  Montrose snarled, pulling Jade roughly to her feet. “We’ve been set up!” A crossbow bolt flitted past his right shoulder, barely missing him.

  Jade cringed before him, too frightened to move.

  “If I can’t have you,” the bounty hunter spat, “then no one will.” He shoved Jade down to the ground, then lifted the heavy mace in his hand.

  Kendril dashed forward and slammed into him.

  The two tumbled to the ground. Montrose’s mace flew out of his hand and landed in the grass nearby.

  “Regnuthu take you!” the bounty hunter shouted in a hoarse voice. He stumbled to his feet, then lurched for his fallen weapon.

  Kendril staggered to his feet. His face was white and strained. He backed back against one of the tables, re
aching with his tied hands behind him.

  Jade got to her feet. “Kendril!”

  Uther aimed his crossbow at one of the approaching riders and fired off the bolt. “Boss!” he called over his shoulder. “We’ve got to go!”

  Montrose wasn’t listening. He charged at Kendril, his face twisted with rage.

  Joseph got to his knees. He swayed as he tried to keep his balance. “Kendril!” he warned.

  The Ghostwalker spun to one side.

  Montrose’s mace came down hard on the table, bashing the wooden planks into splintered pieces. Shattered pieces of crockery and food went flying.

  Kendril rolled in the grass, somehow ending up on his knees. He gasped in pain, his face clenched and covered with sweat.

  Montrose whirled, lifting the mace again.

  “Boss!” Uther called again. He struggled to reload his crossbow as shout and screams sounded all around them.

  “Time to die, Ghostwalker,” Montrose spat.

  Kendril climbed to his feet, his arms still tied behind his back. He shrugged. “I’m waiting.”

  “No!” Jade leapt forward, her hands bound behind her back as well.

  Montrose turned with a snarl and lashed out his free hand in a balled fist.

  The blow hit Jade across her face. She collapsed unconscious to the ground.

  Montrose turned back to Kendril with a smile. “Your turn.”

  Kendril took a step back and wiggled his body. The ropes fell off his arms onto the grass. He brought a knife out in front of him.

  Montrose glanced at the shattered table behind him, then back at the grease-covered knife in Kendril’s hand. With a roar he leapt forward.

  Kendril came at the bounty hunter and swiped with the steak knife.

  The mace lashed down, missing Kendril’s head. Montrose twisted, then drew his weapon back for another strike.

  Kendril swung his makeshift weapon at Montrose’s arm. It slashed through the bounty hunter’s sleeve, making a shallow gash along his forearm.

  “Kendril!” Joseph shouted. His eyes were fastened on a fallen sword just a few yards away. “A sword! To your right!”

  Kendril backed up, his teeth clenched against the agonizing pain in his side. He glanced over at the weapon and shook his head. “Too long,” he called back.

  Joseph blinked. “What?”

  “His vow,” Maklavir groaned.

  Jade groaned from where she lay on the ground, her head rolling slightly.

  Montrose launched forward and hammered down with the mace in his hand.

  With a twirl of his black cloak Kendril ducked under the blow, rolling across the grass. As he tumbled past the off-balance bounty hunter he rammed the knife into Montrose’s leg.

  Montrose screamed and reached for the handle of the knife that was sticking out of his thigh.

  Kendril leapt to his feet, then spun around and brought his booted foot down had on Montrose’s back.

  With a grunt the bounty hunter crashed face-first onto the ground.

  Kendril pressed a hand to his wounded side, his teeth gritted in pain from the over-exertion. He tripped back a step, dizzy and off-balance.

  Jade raised her head, her eyes blinking in confusion. She got to her knees and wiped the mud from her eyes.

  Montrose climbed to his feet, limping heavily. The knife was still in his leg.

  Kendril tried to move forward, but fell to his knees instead. The pain was evident on his face.

  Montrose stepped forwards and grabbed Jade by her long hair. He pulled her head back, and lifted his mace high. “You can watch her die,” he growled at Kendril.

  The Ghostwalker moved forward, but half-collapsed to the ground.

  Montrose smiled and started to swing his weapon down.

  The next instant, a pistol bullet blew his head into nothingness.

  Jade flinched back, the right side of her face splattered with the bounty hunter’s blood. When she raised her head, she saw a band of men on horseback racing towards them. The white tunics they wore gleamed in the starlight, giving the riders an ethereal look.

  Uther dropped his crossbow and turned to run, but a pistol shot punched him in the back and knocked him forward into the table.

  “Jade!” Maklavir cried, rising to his feet. “Now’s our chance!”

  She started to turn, but something prevented her from running. The white tunics triggered something in her memory. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the pounding hoof beats of the approaching riders.

  Kendril staggered up beside Jade just as the horsemen galloped up from the opposite direction.

  The rider in the lead held a smoking pistol, which he quickly shoved into a saddle holster. He pulled out another. “Get away from her!” he ordered, pointing the gun at Kendril.

  The Ghostwalker glared up at the mounted man. He took a slow but deliberate step back, his hand still plastered against his side.

  The lead rider turned to the horseman next to him. “Round up the survivors,” he ordered. “Don’t let any escape.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the man. He turned his horse around and galloped off.

  The leader of the horsemen got down off his horse, his pistol still pointed at Kendril.

  As Jade watched him, she realized that the white tunics were white uniforms. On them was the emblazoned symbol of a peacock, its feathers shining with brilliant colors.

  These men were soldiers, and the man in front of her was their commander.

  The rider gave Kendril a suspicious look, keeping the pistol trained on him. He looked over at Jade, who was staring at him in astonishment.

  “Are you all right, Your Highness?” he said.

  Jade waited dumbly for a moment, until she realized that the man was talking to her.

  And then, in a blinding flash, it all came back to her.

  Kendril started to say something to her, but Jade couldn’t hear what it was. She opened her mouth to speak, but the roaring in her ears drowned out her voice.

  The next moment, everything went black.

  Torin turned desperately as another of his men crumpled under a crossbow shot.

  One of the riders leveled a pistol at the bandit leader’s head. “Surrender or die!” the man shouted.

  Other riders thundered through the camp, their blades flashing down in deadly arcs on the fleeing bandits.

  Torin swallowed, his sword starting to shake in his hands. His camp was destroyed. Most of his men were dead already, or fleeing for the woods. More men in white tunics were exploding from the woods.

  Biting his tongue until he tasted blood, Torin threw his sword down on the ground and raised his hands.

  Kara glanced over at him fiercely, her sword held defiantly in her hand.

  He shook his head. “It’s over Kara.”

  Slowly, and with a pained look on her face, Kara tossed her sword down in the dirt.

  “For the last time,” Kendril said in a tired voice, “we’re not bandits. Think about it. Why would our hands be tied if we were?” He glanced down at his freed arms. “Well, they were tied.”

  The soldier standing over them tensed his hands on the crossbow he was holding. “That’s for Lord Bathsby to decide. Meanwhile I’m under orders to guard you.”

  Kendril let his head drop back and closed his eyes. “This is pointless.”

  Joseph gave a nearby rock a small nudge with his boot. His arms were still bound. He glanced over at where Kendril was sitting.

  “Jade will get this straightened out, Kendril.”

  “Not if she’s still unconscious,” the Ghostwalker grumbled.

  The scout wiggled around, stretching his legs on the grass. “It’s been quite a while since they took Maklavir away. Hopefully that’s a good sign.”

  Kendril glanced up. “Speak of the devil…”

  Maklavir came running down towards them, waving his hand.

  “These two men are not bandits!” he shouted. “They are friends of the princess.”
/>   The guards gave him uncertain looks, their hands still on their weapons.

  “What’s going on, Maklavir? Where’s Jade?” said Kendril. He glanced over cautiously at the crossbowmen behind him.

  “Who is Jade?” came a new voice from behind Maklavir.

  A man strode up, dressed in the same white uniform as the other soldiers. A neatly trimmed reddish-brown beard covered his face, and his eyes were coldly blue. His clothes were impeccable and expensive, and even his uniform shown with a brilliant whiteness that spoke of excellent care. The symbol of the peacock on the front had been decorated with several sparkling jewels, causing the tunic to sparkle and dance in the starlight. Over his head he wore a blue hat, with one of the brims folded up and a yellow feather bobbing from the top.

  Maklavir turned, gesturing to Kendril and Joseph. “These are the men I told you about, your lordship.”

  The man gave Kendril and then Joseph a keen glance. “Then you both have my gratitude.” He turned to the sergeant. “Release them at once.” He turned back to Kendril and Joseph and gave a short bow. “I am Lord Bathsby. I understand that both of you have protected Her Highness from harm over the last few days. The people of Llewyllan owe you a great debt.”

  Kendril gave Maklavir a quick look. “‘Her Highness’?”

  The diplomat took a step forward. “Um, yes, Kendril.” He glanced over at Lord Bathsby. “These men are the Royal Guard of Llewyllan. Lord Bathsby is their commander.” He paused for a moment. “Kendril, Jade’s real name is Serentha. She’s the daughter of King Nathan of Llewyllan.”