Marlen had engaged the second and third men, striking swiftly with his cane. Both men crumpled to the floor as if poleaxed. Jonas was perplexed but didn’t have much time to consider it as more men came at them.
A crowd pressed in the chaos and there was a flash of a blade. Marlen grunted but kept his feet, grabbing the knife hand. The man let out a shout of pain and the knife hit the floor. He backed off, eyes wide, tugging his arm from Marlen’s grasp.
Suddenly there was shouting by the door and a group of soldiers pushed into the inn, armed with coshes. Swiftly they set about restoring order, clubbing people and dragging them off. Jonas started to back away to his planned exit, dragging Marlen with him. The press gang were here on the outbreak of trouble as he’d expected. In the confusion they escaped out into an alleyway.
Jonas looked at Marlen. “You’re bleeding badly,” he said, noticing that the lower half of Marlen’s shirt was dripping red.
Marlen put his hand to his stomach as if probing for damage, strain momentarily evident on his face.
He took his hand away. “Looks worse than it is,” he said. “I’m okay, let’s get out of here.”
Jonas couldn’t escape the feeling that something was really quite wrong here. He paused.
Marlen reached out and grabbed Jonas’ shoulder and shook him gently. “Jonas,” he said urgently.
He woke with a start and it took a moment to orient himself. Daeholf was crouched next to him.
“Another one?” Daeholf said.
“Was I making a lot of noise?” Jonas said, sitting up.
“No, not really. You were twitching a fair bit though.”
“Sorry to have disturbed you.”
“You didn’t. I probably wouldn’t have noticed normally but Alia asked if I’d keep an eye on you whilst she took watch, just in case.”
“I’m going to have to have a word with her.”
“I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but she worries.”
“Yeah. Too much. Especially asking people to watch over me.”
“She thinks a lot of you. I don’t know what’s happened between you two in the past but it’s pretty clear to me she relies on you for a lot. You’re more than just a teacher to her.”
“That’s as maybe.” Jonas was quiet for a minute. “Thanks, I suppose, for being concerned, but I’m fine. And if she asks again, please ignore her.”
“Okay, fair enough." Daeholf shrugged. He moved back to his bedroll and yawned. “Night,” he said.
“Yeah, night,” Jonas said, laying back down. He was probably done with sleep now, though still some hours off dawn. He considered relieving Alia but it would only vindicate her, and besides, he needed some time to think about the best way to approach the conversation they evidently needed to have.
*****
A career as a successful bounty hunter had prepared Jonas for the demands of riding with Daeholf and his friends; an unsuccessful hunter wouldn’t have developed the skills and would probably have starved. He’d grown expert at studying the people he was riding with — usually a prisoner to make sure they didn’t escape or attempt to kill him — while also studying the surrounding landscape to make sure no one was attempting a rescue. Not that he was worried Daeholf and the others would suddenly run away. They were more than entitled to do that, but such were the questions he had over who they really were that he had to keep as many eyes on them as possible. He also had to keep an eye out for Marlen’s men because he couldn’t trust these new companions when they were keeping watch. It was a juggling act, and one he could perform without giving anything away to his allies. Jonas was pleased to see Alia staying alert, hands never too far from her blades, a suitable distance between the other riders. Yes, she and he were prepared. Well, until the group started asking those questions.
“Do you make a good living bounty hunting?” Zedek asked, seeming genuinely interested. Jonas noted how a look of bemusement crossed Daeholf’s face.
“We make enough to live,” Jonas replied, defending the honour of his peers, a group of people he’d normally admit didn’t deserve defending.
“So it doesn’t pay well then?”
“I didn’t say…” Jonas decided it was better to give this man a longer explanation. “No, given the danger, it doesn’t pay well. Bounty hunters rarely get to retire on their profits. But we can travel, we can ask questions, we have a far better experience than ploughing a field for thirty years until your back snaps and they bury you in the same earth.”
“I understand. Weren’t some bounty hunters very well paid?”
“I don’t know who you…”
“Oh, yes, I’m thinking of the Mage Hunters, sorry.”
Zedek finished speaking, meaning nothing more than to clear up his real confusion, but Daeholf was now the one noting interesting signs: the brief look of worry on Jonas, quickly recovered, and the longer look on Alia’s face as she twice turned to half-look at her teacher. There was something to this, something behind their history. Daeholf now resumed looking at the fields and hedges around them and tucked the information away for later use. Then he lightened the mood by saying, “I don’t think they’re ready for one of your economics speeches. The kind we get when we spend all the money on drink.” Daeholf was then able to see something emerging ahead of them. “Village coming.”
The ride into the village was easy, because none of the inhabitants were dead or running around with pitchforks trying to work out who’d been killing them. Both of these were scenarios the makeshift group had been dreading as they pondered where Marlen and his servants precisely were.
Jonas trotted up to a pair of women who’d come out to sell them food and travel supplies.
“You look like you’ve had a fright, we have ale,” one tried, and Jonas wondered whether the group really did look like they’d been through a fight with people who broke all the normal rules of nature.
“We’ll buy, but a question first: has anyone strange been through here recently?”
They didn’t have to say another word, the look on their faces conveyed everything he needed, but they did expand. “Yes. A couple of weird looking arseholes who stole two old cart horses.”
“And you know which way they went?” Jonas asked, satisfied now that they’d made the right decision on direction and had evidence of the two they were still following from the mine.
“Yes, but you said you’d buy after a question…” That seemed fair, and the five travellers dismounted and began buying some victuals.
Alia was hanging back to observe, and she was pleased to see Daeholf, Trimas and Zedek spend their own money on their own purchases, things they started eating immediately and laughing as they discussed the tastes and foodstuffs. That left Jonas to buy theirs, but she had a question for him, and it was a little later when she was able to pull him to one side and ask in hushed words, “How much money have we got?”
“We won’t starve,” Jonas said, keeping his watch of the newcomers.
“Oh won’t we.” Her annoyance got his attention. “We’ve been spending our money on this quest of yours, and it’s going to keep us occupied for a while yet. We’re not rich. How soon before we run out of funds and have to do some work?”
Jonas opened his mouth to reply, paused, and decided to try a different route. “This is work. You saw those things, this may be our most important work, of our careers, no matter who else you hunt. This is our focus. I have some resources I can call on, and I will. We have to—”
“I’m not disputing that, I’m trying to be practical. All the determination in the world won’t buy us a trip across the empire.”
Jonas tilted his head, and concluded Alia had more maturity now than when they’d started, and she’d been no fool back then. She was right, he’d have to plan for an even longer period without pay. Was he turning this into precisely the sort of emotional hunt he’d always warned others of beginning?
Yes, yes he was. And as he sat there and thought about that
corpse he’d seen, cut up and the truth revealed, what Marlen had been doing, he began to think he was right and the old him was wrong. There were some hunts you went on with every fibre of your being, damn the consequences. That didn’t mean you had to be reckless, not plan and sneak and work out, it just meant you continued as long as your body could move and your mind was above the dirt.
*****
“I think this horse needs shoeing.”
Daeholf and Trimas looked over at Zedek, who was staring down at his mount disdainfully.
“Again? Where have you been riding it?”
Zedek stared sideways at Trimas and replied, “I think you gave me the inept animal.”
“And you’re lighter than the rest of us…”
“Perhaps even me,” Alia smiled, knowing that a group could bond quickly when they shared their jokes and believing Jonas would be a lot slower in joining the humour.
Zedek tilted his head. “At least I’m taller.”
“Well you’re welcome to swap that horse in the next village, but you’re walking if it collapses the next day.”
It didn’t take the trained ears of scouts to hear a male scream from ahead of them and to the right.
“In the woods,” Trimas noted as he thought out loud.
Jonas spurred his horse on and said, “We need to be fast but watchful, there must be a side trail somewhere near.”
Weapons drawn, they moved swiftly and alertly up the dirt road, until they found the path they were looking for. It wasn’t as hard as it might have been to spot.
“Well that’s a bigger sign that usual,” Daeholf sighed as he slid off his horse to another of the animals, which was twitching on the ground, stomach cut open and making a terrible cry. He soon put it out of its misery.
Jonas turned to Alia and noted quickly, “The riders were attacked here, horses cut down first. There are signs of a struggle, and tracks back up this road the short way to that path leading off into the trees. So we’re thinking…”
Trimas smiled and replied before Alia did. “Someone tried to stop the altered, and they’re now killing them somewhere in the wood.”
“Agreed,” Jonas replied. Evidently the time for teaching was suspended. “Trail seems to curve. Sounds coming from over there. Okay, Alia and Zedek, see if you can move up the road and then come in from a flank while the rest of us follow the chaos. Everyone agree? And in the head, remember.” He realised his new allies were grinning at him, which was odd, but he felt he could trust Alia to deal with Zedek if this was all an elaborate trap.
Daeholf tied his horse to a tree before moving off to the path. As he moved he saw Zedek and Alia finish stringing their bows and remounting, and then he was off, combat instincts coming to the fore.
Blood on the ground, footprints in the soil, bent branches, voices calling out. He went up the trail until the signs led into the wood and soon he saw a clearing ahead where he slowed and skirted left. This allowed Trimas to come up and the two advanced ready to react to what they found, but not wishing to leave the screamers any longer than necessary. Soon Daeholf could see four men, two lying still on the ground, two writhing in pain. There was the stink of rust and shit, only far worse than with the horse. Daeholf made a signal to Trimas and stepped into the clearing, moving to the wounded and taking stock. Jonas was soon in and looking at the other survivor, asking, “Where’s your friend?”
“Waiting to see if this is a trap.”
Trimas stepped into the clearing from the other side. “No one else here. How injured are they?”
“This one will be dead in minutes,” Jonas diagnosed, his left hand slick with blood as he examined what was better described as a gaping hole than a wound.
“What!” cried a man who thought he’d been saved.
“This one too, guts all torn up,” Daeholf agreed.
“Don’t fret too much,” Jonas continued, “have you seen what’s over there?” He’d seen it on his way in.
Trimas looked where the fire had been disturbed and things knocked over in a fight. “Iron pot. Half cooked food…”
Daeholf sighed. “This is one of those time-sensitive situations…”
“…and a collection of jewellery. So either they’re running from an altered who’s also a debt collector, they like dressing up, or they’re bandits.”
“We need to test that theory,” Daeholf said as he turned to the dying. “Tell me what happened after you ambushed the riders.”
“One just bolted. We caught the other but he wouldn’t die!” aame a rasped reply from a man reliving his doom. “He wouldn’t fucking die!”
“Where is the one you attacked?” Daeholf continued.
“It ran off in the opposite direction to the first one.”
“After how many of you?”
“We’re all here. Pray for me? Pray for me!”
“No, but we might avenge you,” Daeholf told him, “accidentally.”
Jonas was now up and looking at the sides of the clearing, where an equally gaping hole was visible. “The one they fought is going to be easiest to follow. It’s smashing its way through the wood. Crashing through towards Alia. We can pincer it.”
“At least it won’t be hard to track.”
“You can go first then Trimas.”
“Thanks Daeholf. So why is it rushing madly when the attackers are all dead?”
*****
Marlen held the blade up to the light coming through the window. A knife designed to be held easily in one hand, manipulated by the flick of the wrist, it seemed sharp, interestingly curved and very well weighted. In short, it was the sort of blade he was interested in, and he looked back down at the merchant, whose shop Marlen was currently inside and from whom he was debating buying. The man was eyeing his potential customer up much as the healer was looking at the blade.
“I can see why you hired the smith,” Marlen said, wanting to praise, but adding, “although he could be better,” because he wanted some leverage on price.
“I assure you, there is no finer craftsman in this region. To call him a simple smith…”
“Is presumably an outrage. I see. I am interested in taking this blade, and the set of tools that come with it, but I am perfectly willing to move on unless the price is right.” How many surgeons was this merchant going to be seeing today? This week? Probably not enough to get too wound up over price.
“But your clients will want to know you’ve purchased the best!” The merchant was trying his best.
“That’s the interesting part of healing,” and Marlen smiled at the man, “people often worry about that once you’ve cured them. When they’re in agony the questions are far fewer. Perhaps merchant life isn’t quite the same…” Marlen raised an eyebrow at this, and the merchant looked defeated.
“What do you want to pay?”
“I think you name me a price and we go from there. Although let’s make it easier, just quote me twenty per cent off what you were about to say.” The other man did so, and Marlen nodded. “Then you have sold a set of your equipment. I shall look forward to using it.” Which, the merchant would later realise, might be an odd thing for a healer to say.
Marlen put the rolled-up collection under his arm and stepped outside the tent into the square. He should be moving on, really, although the food in this town was particularly nice. Would it hurt to spend another lunch here? That was the problem with long-term plans, you never could take your eye off them for even a little while.
Marlen threaded through the city, until he came to a vendor selling heavily spiced lamb. This had attracted his attention on the day he’d arrived, and Marlen thought it would be a nice way to say goodbye. He joined the queue, reached for his coin purse, and then made sure to react unsurprised.
This was good, because he was very surprised, and quite worried. Standing at ninety degrees to the vendor’s stall was a gentleman in a non-descript collection of clothing which would never stand out against this vibrant town, a perfect disguise
made all the more useless by the long, streaming red curls of the owner. The gentleman looked like he’d stepped out of a child’s myth, but Marlen thanked those bright curls, because it meant the man stood out, and allowed Marlen to bring memories of the day back into his mind and remember that he’d seen this man at every location he’d visited that day.
Either Marlen was being followed, or he’d found someone with identical interests. Neither was appealing, and Marlen turned away and began walking. What he had to do was lose this man and leave this city immediately, because someone was taking an interest they shouldn’t.
The benefit of being tailed by a man who stood out was you could soon tell you’d lost them, as Marlen twisted through streets no ordinary citizen would brave, but which he could confidently stride through and cause palpitations. Some even natural. Soon he was back at his lodgings, and he began to wonder if leaving his creations at his base had been such a good idea. What if this redhead was a spy, or even the advance party of mage hunters? What if someone thought he was a mage?
It didn’t do to get paranoid and sloppy, so Marlen paid his dues, collected his effects, and was soon riding out of the town, pleased to have the road ahead open and anonymous. A horse came up behind him, not galloping, just naturally quicker, and Marlen turned to see a man with bright red hair atop it.
The man had pale skin, perhaps the result of too much time indoors, but Marlen felt there was a concealed strength to his limbs. When the stranger smiled, Marlen noted wonderful teeth, and a bone structure several imperial families would have dearly wanted to marry into. And the hair, that wonderfully useful hair. Perhaps he could be altered to be a useful ally, but that would mean…
“Hello!” the man said.
Marlen turned back, acting as if he hadn’t realised, and looked ahead of him. The road stretched away, and there were people coming and going. They were not alone, not anywhere either of them could make an offensive action, although Marlen was confident in his abilities and that he was in little danger. So, Marlen was being followed, but perhaps just by one man, either ignorant of who he was dealing with or supremely confident. Perhaps there was no need to strike out. Perhaps a little conversation would bring answers.
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 23
