by Emma Miles
Tantony growled, glancing at Azrael who intensified his flame to blue. ‘It’s a shame not to take a chance to kill them, though.’
Kesta didn’t disagree but continued toward the glowing harbour. A fox came running toward them, stopped to sniff at them, glanced back over its shoulder and then ran on. Kesta felt its sharp fear. She gestured to the other two to go on, while she slipped away into some trees to their right, moving quickly and as quietly as she could.
Tantony gave a cry of alarm as a large shape lumbered toward him out of the darkness. He drew his sword and stood on guard, knees bent and ready to move. Even in the darkness Kesta could see the shock and fear on the warrior’s face. As the creature swung a heavy fist, in which it grasped a studded mace, Kesta darted in behind it. Tantony caught the blow with his sword and staggered back. Ducking low Kesta cut hard and deep across the back of its legs, severing its tendons. The creature collapsed, arms still flailing, Tantony took off a hand and its head in one swing.
He stood panting, unable to take his eyes off the still moving dead man; until the awful smell of it registered through his fear and he stumbled around it to Kesta.
‘Shouldn’t the spirit burn it?’ He looked around for Azrael.
She shook her head, setting off again at once. ‘The less the necromancers see of me and Azrael the more chance we have of getting to one of them.’
Tantony grunted and increased his pace to match hers.
The wind brought smoke to them in choking snatches that stung their eyes. Now and again a male voice would sound out, the words indistinguishable. Azrael came hurtling toward them, his trajectory erratic.
‘Kessta! I’ve found some of the necromanssers! There is a tall building collapssed that has breached the wall. There are sstill flames, but we can go that way!’
Kesta nodded, saving her breath. She cast out her knowing, trying not to let Tantony’s anxiety become her own. She could feel the mood of the conquered town; it was feral. Bloodlust, aggression, jubilation; she could almost smell the testosterone. Underneath it was the terror, pain, despair … the conquered who were still in the town, hiding, if they were lucky. She pulled her arms in tight around herself, feeling sick, feeling chilled to the bone; not wanting to think of those women who were not so lucky. There was only one thing she could do to help them now.
Azrael flew ahead, camouflaging himself among the small fires that still burnt in the ruin of what might have been an Elden church. Wooden beams and sections of stone had collapsed across the wall, smashing it, and tumbling beyond to create a jagged uneven stair. Figures moved on the wall; it wasn’t unguarded.
‘They’ll shoot us down before we get a yard up that wall.’ Tantony put his hand on his sword hilt.
Kesta shook her head, biting her lip. ‘I’ll try to move them.’
She drew up her magic, sending wind toward where the fires danced close to the Chemmen warriors. Azrael caught her intent, and he threw his own power into the flames so that they burst upward in a conflagration of sparks and smoke. The warriors cried out in alarm, beaten back by the sudden intensity and heat. Kesta grabbed Tantony’s arm and ran for the rubble. They only had a small window until the fire died down and the warrior’s night vision returned. They scrambled up it, pausing to help each other and almost blindly jumping over the wider gaps. The heat was at times barely tolerable and several times Kesta burnt her skin on stone that was still deceptively hot.
Relief surged through her as her feet touched ground. A scream pierced their ears and even Tantony shuddered.
Azrael squeezed up from between two blocks of stone. ‘Thiss way.’
Steeling herself, Kesta called up her knowing again, although this time she did not cast it out so wide. Several times she sensed the approach of warriors and they were able to duck off the street before they were seen. Then their luck ran out. Four warriors came bursting out of a house further ahead, laughing and staggering; one still swigging from a jug. Tantony tried the nearest door, but it was firmly barred. They rushed to the next one.
‘Hey!’
Kesta froze. She turned to face the oncoming men, placing one hand on Tantony’s arm. She switched off her knowing quickly, not wanting to know what was in the hearts of these Chemmen warriors.
‘Stay where you are!’
One of the men gave a long, low laugh. He dropped his jug.
Tantony and Kesta instinctively moved apart to give themselves room, and the men recognised them as warriors, sobering at once. Two of them drew swords.
‘Look at her eyes,’ one of them hissed.
Kesta drew her dagger and sprang at them. She ducked under a sword, kicked out at his knee, and then leapt to put her whole weight behind the foot that landed in his groin. As he doubled over her dagger lashed out and blood sprayed from his throat. Tantony had engaged the other man with the sword; the remaining two, realising this wasn’t going the way they’d expected, also drew their weapons. They went for Kesta. She turned and ran, but instead of fleeing she grabbed a post and vaulting around it planted both feet in the face of one of the men. Azrael came at the second, engulfing him in a blaze so violent he had no time to scream. Kesta had landed another kick, breaking the man’s jaw before finishing him with a stab to the side of his neck. She ran back to Tantony as he slashed his opponent across the stomach and chest.
‘You okay?’ he panted.
‘Yes, let’s get out of here.’
‘Who taught you to fight like that?’
‘Uncle Worvig.’ She grinned. ‘He says there is no point fighting fair if someone wants to kill you.’
‘I’d like to meet this Uncle Worvig.’
They got off the main street and, once Tantony gained his bearings, they headed toward the docks. Several times they had to change their route because of fires and larger groups of warriors.
‘Sss.’ Azrael came close. ‘There are several necromanssers in the biggest inn! One of uss has been peeping, but they have lain trapss for drakes!’
‘Sounds like Promise Inn.’ Tantony wiped the soot and sweat from his face. ‘It’s certainly the most luxurious place to stay on Mantu although not particularly fortified. If they are cocky enough to think the town and harbour are theirs despite not taking the fort, then I can see why they might set up there.’
‘I imagine it will be heavily guarded and not by drunks.’ She tried to ignore the ache in her bones and the tiredness of her muscles. Her throat was still tight from smoke and her lungs heavy. ‘Do you know the inn; can we get inside?’
‘There is a way in. The barrels are delivered into a yard at the back where there’s a hatch down into the cellar. There’s a porch above the cellar right up against the fence. You can climb straight from the street onto the porch roof and from there into the window of one of the rooms.’
‘How do you know that?’ she asked.
‘I was a young man once.’ He smiled wistfully. ‘I imagine the yard will be guarded, maybe the street too.’
‘I’ll look,’ Azrael offered.
‘What of the traps?’ Kesta frowned. ‘I don’t want you to get caught.’
‘I’ll be very careful, Kessta.’
He shot off before she could argue further.
‘Come on,’ Tantony urged. ‘It isn’t much further, but we’ll come very close to the docks.’
Several times as they approached the inn Kesta’s resolve almost faltered. This was stupid, she knew it was. The three of them against an army of Chem. The town’s desperation battered at her knowing and she thought of Rosa and little Catya back at the hold. If the necromancers weren’t stopped, they would share the same fate as the women here. If she didn’t break the trap … she drew in a sharp breath at the intensity of feeling blue eyes and a shy smile brought to her soul. It was crazy, she still barely knew him.
But she wanted to know him with every fibre of her being.
Clenching her fists, she moved closer to Tantony. He was checking the way ahead was clear, pressed up against the
edge of a building. She could smell the brine of the sea with the ammonia tang of sewage. She forced aside her doubts and pressed courage toward the Elden warrior as much for herself as for him.
‘Okay.’ He turned, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. ‘The way to the inn is mostly clear.’
‘Mostly?’
‘There are two warriors guarding the alley. They are at the far end watching the main street and looking bored. We have to assume there are more in the yard. If …’
She felt his concern. Concern for her.
‘Tantony, I am a walker, I can take care of myself.’
His face softened, and she had to look away. ‘That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blame myself if anything happened to you. I am trying to forget that you’re a woman and treat you like a warrior. I am. But I can’t forget that you mean something to … um … Northold and the Thane. Anyway, Rosa would kill me if I came back without you.’
‘She’d kill me if I came back without you!’ She grinned. ‘Enough of this soppy nonsense, get on with your plan!’
Tantony scowled. ‘Okay then. I’ll lift you up so you can get up onto that roof, then I’ll go take out those two guards. You’ll have to get into the window of the inn without being seen. When I can I’ll follow, and we’ll go from there. We may end up on our own. If that’s the case, then we should both try to get back to the boat and wait there for the other.’
Kesta swallowed. ‘I agree.’ She looked around, Azrael had disappeared again for the moment. ‘Let’s get this done.’
Tantony took a last look and then ran out into the alley. He stopped at the fence and crouching he twinned his fingers together to make a step for Kesta. She leapt, letting his strength increase her momentum as her foot landed in his palms. She grabbed for the top of the fence and dragged herself up; below her the Chemman warriors gave a shout of alarm and Tantony drew his sword. Not allowing herself to look, she lay flat to the roof. There were four warriors in the yard. One of them sat snoring in a chair, two were just below her talking softly, the fourth stood with his back to the yard gate, glowering with his arms folded. She thanked the spirits that the distressing sounds from the harbour seemed to drown out Tantony’s fight just beyond the fence.
As quietly as she could she inched her way up the sloping roof to the window. It was dark and reflected the flickering fires of the ravaged town. She edged her fingers along the length of the window frame; it seemed to be locked. Drawing her dagger, she looked for where the latch lay, glancing to check the position of the guards. The latch was down, she would have to smash it.
Her eyes widened as light flared in the room and then subsided to a deep blue. The latch moved upward, and she pulled the window open. Without speaking she gestured for Azrael to go down and help Tantony. The spirit fluttered its concern but went anyway. Not daring to breathe, Kesta put a leg over the windowsill and then another. Looking around the room she saw a man sleeping in the bed. He seemed to be in his late twenties with dark red hair and a beard cut tight to his chin. She could see the fine links of a gold chain around his neck and the edges of an amulet.
A necromancer.
Biting hard at her lower lip she placed a foot on the carpet and put her weight on it. The floorboards gave a long creak. The man didn’t stir. Setting down her other foot she padded across to the bed. This is no time to have a conscience she told herself. No time to play fair. She plunged her dagger down into his heart. His eyes opened wide to stare at her and his hands grabbed for the dagger. She held his gaze as the light faded from his eyes.
Was he the one? Was Jorrun free? She touched the message cylinder beneath her tunic; there was no way for her to know.
She would have to kill more.
She went to the door and opened it a crack. She could hear several voices, some muffled, in other rooms, most coming from a room down below. Her heart sank at the enormity of her task. She would have to try to take out every necromancer here until they were all dead, or she was. She dared to open the door a little more and saw that the room opened out onto a landing that was open to the main room of the inn below. Almost at once her eyes found a man with dark hair and blue-grey eyes. He was older than Jorrun with grey in his hair and a wider face; but the resemblance was still there. He was the one she wanted.
A crash from the room next door made her flinch, and she drew back; a woman’s sobbing was drowned out by the angry shouting of a man. A light scuffling behind her told her that Tantony was on his way.
‘Azra?’
‘Here, Kessta.’ the spirit bobbed in through the window.
‘Can you get into the room on the right and make sure the door is unlocked so I can get in?’
‘Yess.’
‘I’ll be a moment!’ She opened the door again and checking the hall was clear darted to the next room. She tried the door and found it was open. She stepped confidently in and shut it behind her at the same time as Azrael materialised from a candle making himself ten times his normal size. The woman screamed, throwing herself into the corner and covering her head with her arms. The man tensed, calling up power. Kesta threw her dagger, but the man deflected it aside with his magic. Azrael tried to engulf him but was held back by a fierce wind that swirled in through the window. Kesta lunged, grabbing for the man’s arm. He snatched at her wrist to subdue and control her, the skin on skin contact was enough. Kesta poured her fear into him, every doubt, every moment of despair. The man curled up like a dying spider, his grip so tight that she cried out. She pushed the pain of her wrist to his heart and his eyes bulged. He released her and, panting, she ran for her dagger. He struggled to his feet, gripping his chest. She stabbed her dagger through his hand and between his ribs.
They both crumpled. Tears tickled their way down Kesta’s hot cheeks. She shuddered at the sticky blood on her hand and wiped it on the bed.
‘Kessta!’ Azrael bobbed anxiously.
‘I’m all right.’ She took in a sharp breath and got unsteadily to her feet, swallowing against the nausea. She took a blanket from the bed and draped it around the naked women whose skin was black and red with bruises. ‘Hey there, little one, brave one,’ she crooned as she pushed calm and love through her knowing. ‘You are safe now, we’re here to save you.’
The young woman could not relax nor untangle her limbs, not for all Kesta’s gentle magic.
‘I need you to help me, beautiful girl. The man who is in charge, the dark-haired one.’ The girl shuddered under her hands. ‘Which is his room?’
Kesta’s heart made several rapid beats before the girl stirred. ‘On the next level. At the end.’
‘Thank you.’ Kesta kissed the top of her hair. ‘Now get dressed. Go to the room next door and you can escape through the window and down the alley. You are stronger than you know. They can’t break you.’
Kesta filled her with as much courage and strength as she could muster, knowing that it would never be enough to heal what had been done.
Closing off her knowing so that the woman couldn’t feel it, Kesta let her rage build and consume her. These people would never, ever, conquer the Fulmers or Elden, not as long as she breathed.
Pushing the woman before her she went back to the first room to find a startled Tantony there. Without a word the battered woman crawled out of the window.
‘I know who has Jorrun and where his room is.’ Kesta grabbed Tantony’s bloodied hand. ‘We need to go there and wait.’
‘Could we just find this trap and get out of here?’
Azrael hissed.
Kesta wrapped her hatred around herself to build a shield. ‘No. He dies.’
They waited until they were sure the hallway was clear again and then hurried for the stairs. One Chemman opened a door as they passed and Tantony stabbed him through the belly, pushing him back in his room and closing the door. The room at the end was locked, but Azrael slipped a flaming arm into the lock and manipulated the tumblers. They were in. Kesta’s heart pounded in her ears.
; The room was neat and looked unused, making Kesta’s hopes plummet; but then she saw a chest placed at the end of the bed with a robe draped over it.
‘So, what would this trap look like?’ Tantony asked.
‘A box,’ Azrael crackled.
Kesta went straight to the chest and flipped it open. It contained nothing but clothes and a short sword. Kesta buckled it to her belt with a shrug at Tantony. They checked under the bed and in the one chest of drawers; nothing.
‘So, we wait.’ Kesta sighed.
‘They’ll find those dead bodies sooner or later,’ Tantony warned her.
She scowled at him and sat herself on the bed. With a sigh Tantony positioned himself to one side of the door.
***
It was only about half an hour until they heard movement in the hallway. Tantony straightened up and Azrael withdrew into the fireplace. The door swung open and a dark shape moved into the room. With a splutter and hiss the fireplace burst into flame and the man stood looking at Kesta in the flickering light. He laughed, making her skin crawl.
‘Well, well; I thought I’d have to search Elden and the Fulmers to find the woman he dreams of. How good of you to come to me.’
Her eyes widened at his words and her stomach turned in disgust, this man shared Jorrun’s features and yet was so much not him. She didn’t bother with her knowing, didn’t let her eyes leave his face and give away Tantony who took a tiny step forward.
‘Where is the trap?’ she growled.
‘Straight to the point.’ He grinned ‘Such a shame you’re wasted on the wrong maste—’
‘I have no master!’ She showed her teeth as she leapt from the bed, dagger in hand. Tantony lunged with his sword, only to go flying across the room and smash against the wall with a wave of the necromancer’s hand. Azrael burst from the fireplace but was pushed back at once by a strong gale that made his flame gutter. The necromancer caught Kesta’s wrist with viper speed and twisted the dagger from her hand. He threw her to the bed and pinned her down with his weight. Terror made her muscles go to water, but she fought it to try to call something useful to her knowing.
