*****
“Hooeee!” Trimas called into the cave entrance.
“What’s the problem?” Jonas said, emerging from the cave.
“Company.”
“Many?” Daeholf said, appearing behind Jonas.
“Could be the whole village and they look angry.”
“Angry?”
“Armed.”
“They seen us?”
“That or someone did and reported back.”
“It’s a trap then,” Daeholf said.
Jonas growled.
Zedek and Alia joined them and took up positions.
“I don’t want to fight them. They’re innocent,” Alia said, bow ready at Trimas’s side.
“Innocent or not, we fight that many, we lose. We have to run.”
“No arguments from me,” Zedek said and they all started to run up the trail into the hills and away from the village.
“Why did we have to leave the horses behind?” Trimas gasped, breathing hard.
“We were trying to sneak in without being noticed,” Daeholf replied, breath even.
“Well that didn’t work,” Alia said, jogging alongside Jonas, casting him occasional worried glances.
Daeholf looked as they ran. It was clear the big man was having trouble, from the look of it with one of his knees, but was struggling on as fast as possible without complaint. Even so he was starting to lag at the back. Alia was hanging back with him. Daeholf dropped back to join them.
“Knee?”
“Knee,” Jonas gasped, with a grimace. “Not. As. Young. As. I. Used. To. Be.”
“Keep going and leave this to me,” Daeholf said.
“You’re not going to do something stupidly heroic, are you?” Zedek said from just ahead.
“No. I’ll catch you up. Give me your bow.”
Zedek sighed, matched pace and handed it over. "You do have your own, you know."
"Really? Where?" Alia said.
"No time to string it now."
"Never is," Zedek grumbled to himself.
Daeholf looked at Jonas again. “Zedek, you’re with me. Trimas, help Jonas.”
“I’m fine,” Jonas said through gritted teeth.
“We stand a much better chance of getting away if you don’t argue big man,” Trimas said.
Jonas growled. “Fine.”
“Alia, you at the front and lead them out. Zedek and I’ll catch you up.”
“What are you going to do? You’re not going to fight them yourself?”
“No time to explain. Get going.”
Daeholf and Zedek stopped running whilst the others carried on, one struggling, with the occasional backward glance.
“What are we doing?” Zedek said.
“Giving the others some time.”
“And what do you want me to do? You’ve got my bow.”
“Be my eyes, tell me how much time I have.”
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see,” Daeholf said, rummaging in a belt pouch. “How far?”
“Couple of hundred yards. Don’t hang about.”
Daeholf took a pair of arrows and started unscrewing the heads.
“You want me to loose off a couple of shots to slow them down?” Zedek said.
“We’re not trying to hurt them any more than necessary remember?” Daeholf said. He finished removing the arrow heads and shook a couple of objects out of his pouch.
“What are you doing?”
“Eyes on the target,” Daeholf said. “How far?”
“Hundred and fifty yards. Maybe.”
“Hmm.”
Daeholf picked the first object up and quickly but calmly screwed it onto the first arrow shaft. Taking the bow, he nocked the arrow.
“Be ready to run. This might not work,” Daeholf said, drawing.
“Want me to take the shot?” Zedek said.
“Best I do it,” Daeholf said.
He loosed the arrow and there was a loud and terrible shrieking as the arrow flew through the air, drowning out even the mob. The lead man dropped, arrow in his chest. Zedek jumped slightly and gave Daeholf an interested look.
“Sorcery!” came the shout from the mob as it crashed to a halt. They looked at the man on the ground with trepidation. Daeholf took the moment to prepare the second arrow.
“It’s just an arrow,” one man shouted. “Take them!”
Daeholf dropped him with his second arrow, the shrieking end taking the man in the face, pitching him dramatically to the dirt.
The mob shouted again and started to back off.
“Time to go,” Daeholf said, handing Zedek his bow back.
“Fascinating,” Zedek said as they ran.
*****
“What the hell was that?” Jonas asked as Zedek and Daeholf joined them at the horses.
Alia and Trimas were giving them a serious look. Jonas was glaring.
“Deterrent,” Daeholf said simply.
“Again, what did you do?” The question was almost barked and deadly serious. Trimas tensed, ready for trouble.
Daeholf paused and looked at Jonas. “Arrows,” he said. Jonas stared at him.
“Magic arrows?” Jonas said, still no warmth in his question.
“No. Look, let me show you,” Daeholf said, rummaging in his pouch. Alia tensed, hand on bow. “Easy there,” Daeholf said, pulling a funny shaped arrowhead out slowly and lifting it up to hold them. Alia eased slightly but no one seemed particularly convinced other than Zedek, who seemed more curious than tense.
“I’ll demonstrate,” Daeholf said, raising it to his lips, pursing and blowing through it. There was a shrieking whistle, though nothing like as loud as previously. “It’s designed a little like a flute,” he added.
“Can I see that?” Jonas said, tone somewhat softened.
“Sure,” Daeholf said, tossing it gently to him. “Be careful though, it’s my last one.”
Jonas caught the arrowhead and examined it. “Hmm,” he said. “Clever design and not something I’ve ever seen before. Where did you get them?”
“Army,” Daeholf said. “Used against us once. First volley at us, I nearly shit myself. Decided there and then that I wanted to get my hands on some and managed to scrounge up a small number of them.”
Trimas and Zedek exchanged a look that, though careful, neither Jonas nor Alia missed.
“Useful things to have. Surprised I’ve not heard about them before,” Jonas said.
“They’re rather rare.”
“Even so, soldiers talk and surely some would have been recovered from the battlefield. I can see our armies using that sort of thing given the shock effect they had.”
“They’re hard to make properly and the design actually makes them quite fragile — they’re not really designed to hit anything hard. Stick one in someone and it’ll deform enough that no one will know what it was.”
“I suppose that makes sense. And I guess they did the job. Though I’d appreciate some warning or a heads-up before you do something like that again.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’m serious. Given who we’re after, surprises that sound like magic is being used can give the wrong idea. We wouldn’t have been that surprised to see Marlen appear rather than the two of you.”
“Point taken. Didn’t have a lot of time to plan and used to being the one to take action. Old officer’s habit. My apologies.”
“I’ve done the same in the past,” Jonas admitted. “No harm done except to my nerves.”
“How’s the knee?”
“I need to strap it up but it’ll be okay with a little rest.”
“Not much chance of that near here.”
“Some distance wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Jonas said, mounting with difficulty.
“I think we’ll talk more when we’re somewhere safe too,” Alia said seriously to Daeholf. “There’s things I want to know now.”
Jonas looked at her, then at the others and nodded.
*****
Once upon a time Marlen had woken his subjects up on the operating slab, but that almost always had a negative effect so now he carried the improved bodies through to another room and roused them. A strong, stinking salt was placed under the nose for old time’s sake, and the hold Marlen had taken of their nerves was relaxed to perform the actual waking, and a pair of eyes now opened and looked at the concerned face staring down at it and other faces behind.
“I… I…” The eyes noted a small chamber, sparsely decorated, and a table with a mug of water nearby which made the viewer realise they were very, very thirsty. They shot an arm out for the mug, stopped and looked down at their hands. Ten fingers waggled experimentally beneath them, which was strange as several had been torn off in a farming accident wh…
“Hello,” Marlen said, “you’re probably wondering what’s happened.”
“It’s magic,” the altered said, looking from their working hands to Marlen, “it’s magic.”
“No,” Marlen said firmly, almost admonishing, “this is medicine.”
“Medicine? But my hands…”
“Your hands are cured…”
“Thank you, oh thank you…”
“…and I have made other changes to your body…”
“What?”
“You will find yourself stronger, fitter, better able to exert yourself and resist pressure on you.”
“Changes to my body?” The altered’s face was that of a thirty-year-old male, bearded and now looking grim. “What do you mean?”
“You are a better person now. The deficiencies of your flesh have been removed. You are a triumph of healing. You are better than you ever were.”
“Changes,” came the reply, now deadly serious.
“For the better, I assure you. I have others you can speak to, others who can explain.”
The eyes looking back at the healer had grown scared. “And what do I owe for these … changes.”
“Ah, you are expected to work out a period of notice.”
“Work for you?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“That is as yet unclear.”
“That’s … slavery.” So this was going to be one of the difficult ones. “You’re not a big man. I am. If I’m so strong couldn’t I just crush your skull and walk out? That would be a change alright.”
“Ah,” and Marlen stood. “You could attack me, or you could try to leave. But you’ll soon find that I have put something of myself in you, and if you try to disobey me I can just snuff out your light. Like a candle.”
“Hah, a lazy bluff,” and the man stood, his large body moving towards Marlen who didn’t flinch one bit. Instead one of Marlen’s eyes twinged as a reaction to the magic was sent out, and the man collapsed to the floor, snuffed out. A few moments later Marlen reignited him, and he rolled over, coughing and spluttering.
“So you see, it’s not a bluff. I have improved you, and one day you will live that life. But until then you must pay off your debt. Pay for services rendered. Do we understand that?”
“…y…e…sss.”
Marlen smiled. He was feeling buoyed by success, and had the energy for more work.
“Show him to his quarters,” Marlen ordered and went back into the operating room.
What to do?
Marlen looked at the jar of wolves’ eyes he had on the shelf, wondering if they’d be any better than the cats’. Though perhaps he should remain focussed on his main project he thought when he heard a commotion behind him and turned to find one of his team standing there with a pigeon in her hand.
“He, or she, whichever, landed earlier, we brought it straight up,” and she offered the bird out, clearly uncomfortable.
In truth Marlen wasn’t an expert in handling the creatures, but he knew they flew fast and straight, and he’d left one as a messenger. The villagers were to send it to him once the trap had been triggered and the irritants dealt with, so the fact it was here meant… He took the bird quickly and looked at the feet. There was the ring showing it was the right bird, but there was no message. So, clearly the trap had been sprung and the villagers had removed the threat and forgotten the paperwork. People tended to be like that, he’d discovered. But the bird was message enough, even if he would have liked the detail on who exactly had been out there.
“Thank you,” Marlen said to the pigeon’s new transport as he handed it back, “please take it and re-coop it.” Re-coop? Was that a thing? “We may need it in the future.”
Maybe he should fix someone who knew more about pigeons, expand the base of the team; people on horseback had their issues. Perhaps … no, stick to humans and derivatives. Animals were for much later in life. Maybe a four-legged chicken for more food. Actually, that would be worth looking into given the periodic problems with harvests, although there was the question of whether he could get any of his enhancements to carry over when people bred, an area he would leave for later too. Hmm, enhance people and their food supply. That did seem sensible. Perhaps you could make a chicken lay twice as many eggs, that would help. And wasn’t there some animal which actually grew its legs back, so if it had more of them you’d double your production. Was there, or was that a story? Sometimes he worried he focussed on his own quest so much he’d left some aspects of life fade away.
Still, it was a relief to know there wasn’t someone or some group out there pursuing him anymore. Time to focus and push things to a gallop.
*****
“Okay. So by now, you’ve probably gathered that we’re not quite who we say we are.”
Jonas nodded grimly. Alia looked on, expression neutral.
“I think it’s clear that we need to work together so it’s time we told you the truth.”
Daeholf looked at the other two. Zedek looked sceptical but Trimas nodded his assent.
“I didn’t lie when I told you that I was an imperial soldier who’d served my time. What I didn’t tell you was which legions.”
“Go on,” Jonas said.
“You’ve heard of the siege of Vadoz?”
“About ten years ago, largely hushed up,” Jonas said, looking interested despite himself.
“I was there. A corporal in the Ninth, part of the garrison whilst the other half of the legion were on patrol.”
Trimas and Zedek looked at each other.
Jonas’s eyes widened momentarily. “Were the rumours true?”
“Worse.” Daeholf’s eyes looked momentarily haunted.
“Is that why you drink a lot sometimes?” Alia asked.
“One of the reasons. It was one of the worst months of my life.”
“One of the worst?” Jonas said, eyebrows raised.
“Yes. We had plenty of water but little food when the siege began and the locals had all long since left. Supplies were erratic that far south and the last two shipments had gone missing, taken by the rebels in transit. That was the main reason the legion was split — we were trying to find them.”
“But they found you,” Jonas said.
“Yes. The patrol had been out a week when the first of the rebels arrived. There weren’t that many at first and the walls were high so we were in little danger, though we were already on half rations to preserve our supplies.”
“I thought there were thousands of southerners at the siege?”
“They just kept coming. Day after day and night after night we beat them back, always waiting for reinforcements, not knowing where they’d got to. We held them off but inevitably the food ran out. Most of the horses were with the patrols but those that weren’t we ate. Then the dogs.”
“What is dog like?” Zedek interjected, curious.
“When they were as thin as they were then, tough.”
“Oh.”
“There were only about a thousand of us left by then, worn down by fighting, illness and hunger but we saw the second half of the legion return. They’d been delayed by hit-and-run attacks by the southerners whilst
foraging and were retreating to the fortress for sanctuary.”
“They got that wrong then,” Jonas said.
“Yes. The legion commander was with us, as he’d been recovering from an amputation and the officer in charge of the other half was a bit inexperienced. He charged the rebels in an effort to break through. They were actually doing quite well but got bogged down not far from the gates and were starting to get massacred. We had to sally out to rescue him.”
“Sounds stupid,” Alia said.
“Probably was in the end. We rescued less than half of them and lost many of our own doing it.”
“Go on,” Jonas said.
“I was part of the sally and I got back to find a small group of soldiers standing over my commander, who was weakly trying to defend himself with his dress sword.”
“What were they doing?” Trimas said, intrigued.
“I thought you were friends?” Jonas looked at him quizzically.
“More detail than he’s gone into before,” Trimas rumbled back.
Jonas shrugged and looked back at Daeholf. “Go on.”
“Injured soldiers had been going missing.”
“It happens.”
“People were hungry. Some more than others.”
“You don’t mean…”
“A number of soldiers had taken to eating their comrades.”
Alia made a choking noise, looking horrified. Zedek looked faintly sick.
“So it is true then,” said Jonas, looking grim.
“My squad had largely been surviving on rats and beetles but we’d probably have ended up going the same way if it had gone on much longer. Hunger does terrible things to people.”
“Your commander? Did they eat him?” Alia said.
“No. I was younger and a bit more idealistic back then. I charged them and drove them off.”
“Heroic,” Jonas snorted.
“Stupid really. As I said, the rest of us probably weren’t far off the same thing. Luckily for us the soldiers we rescued had some supplies, though not really enough for all of us. After a few days it was back to rats and beetles. But Trimas here led the Tenth and Twelfth to our relief a few days later and broke the siege, chasing the rebels off into the dust.”
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 31
