“You sound like you’d rather stay here you daft bastard.”
“Well, er…”
“God, you do want to stay here.”
Taking a calmer tack, the bald man asked, “What’s wrong?”
“You heard, haven’t you heard?”
“What?”
“There’s monsters about. Three-armed, two-headed monsters.”
“That’s just rebel nonsense,” the big man opined.
“The watch are looking.”
“Alright, it’s watch nonsense. Makes a change from arresting people from getting drunk and fighting.”
Both the others looked at him, so he added, “So I’ve heard. Right. Look, there aren’t monsters walking the streets.”
“No, but there’s people saying they should patrol the streets, check people.”
“Ah,” said Moore from behind them.
“What?”
“A rabble.”
“What’s a rabble?”
“An ill-conceived mob. Imagine the three of you drunk and angry with all your friends.”
“Sounds great,” said the big man.
“Now imagine trying to walk past it if you were from a different city.”
The thin man shivered.
“Should be back in their city…” But he was interrupted by the thin man.
“I think maybe we should find more crates to move.”
“Fucking hell, I’ll walk you home if you’re worried.”
“Please.”
The big man shook his head.
“Actually…” the bald man offered experimentally.
“You as well?”
“We are on the same route home.”
“If you take a stupid route. Alright, alright. What about you, boss?”
“I will be hiring a bodyguard if this rabble comes to fruition.”
“Word of advice, sir,” the thin man said, “everyone will be hiring them. We’ll run out.”
“I meant him.” Moore nodded at his hulking warehouseman.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“How much?”
*****
So far, so good. They had arrived at the village, hands on clubs and order in hand, and the village had shrugged stoically and let them in. This watch unit had heard all about the rumours of barricades and annoyed peasants, but so far this group had been good imperials and let them search.
Perhaps nothing to hide, but he couldn’t help but wonder if they were double bluffing, if they were pretending and something greater was hidden here. Some had called him paranoid, but he preferred cautious, and careful, and the reward for finding one of the monsters certainly wouldn’t hurt.
But, also so far, just a normal village. Dirt, straw and shit on the ground, wooden buildings, inhabitants who’d be thrown out of a society ball for ten reasons, all of them smelling. Not that he’d ever been invited to the balls, but one day he’d be promoted and the reward would help. Yes, the reward would…
He froze, unsure of why his head had flagged up an alarm. Something was wrong with this scene, and it was… Ah. There was a man carrying a basket of firewood, ready-chopped logs, from a pile in a shelter to the right of his property to the door of the dwelling. He had the basket in one strong arm, but the other was bound to his body, and a wizened hand stuck out at the bottom.
There was something wrong with his arm…
“Halt, halt!” the watchman shouted as he ran over, club drawn, grabbing the man by the shirt and forcing him to his knees.
“What’s going on?” came the voice of his sergeant.
“I’ve got one, sir, I’ve fucking got one.”
“What exactly?”
“A monster, look, look at his arm.”
The watchman turned, happy the monster wasn’t protesting, and saw the rest of his patrol stood in a semicircle. They were turning their heads this way and that, probing the man and the arm.
“It’s not right.”
“Looks all fucked up.”
“That’s what they told us, look out for freaks.”
“Yes, yes, all of you, what do you think, Sarge?”
“Cut the binding, let’s have a look.”
Soon the disabled arm had been exposed to the air, and it was now the watchman noticed a group of villagers gathering behind the semi-circle of the watch. “Er, Sarge…”
“That’s one alright, that’s one. Tie him and let’s get him back to the base.”
Not a moment too soon, the watchman thought.
The prisoner was made to walk to where their horses had been tethered, and the group rode quickly back to the capital, arriving at the gate they’d left that morning. Their prisoner’s wide-eyed stare had reduced to a sunken fear, and he’d stayed quiet during the journey.
“Is he a mute?”
“Sorry?”
“The prisoner. Reckon he’s a mute? Never arrested anyone who didn’t argue before.”
“Actually I think he’s started crying.”
Once the gate was reached they entered and dismounted immediately, their station being built into the wall.
“Move, move, stop watching!” the sergeant barked at the gathering crowd, and the prisoner was pulled off the horse and pushed inside the thick walls.
An older watchwoman, going to seed, looked up from a desk. “What have you lot brought back?”
“We found a monster!”
“Oh have you now. Let me be the judge of … oh,” she said looking at the man’s arm. “Oh that’s not right is it.”
“See!”
“Put him in a cell and send someone to speak to…”
They all stopped at the noise. Shouts, barked commands back, more shouts, all from outside.
“Put him in the cells and shut that door.”
The guards on the gate had let the riders approach because they looked like local peasants, which they were, and it was only when they’d got inside the gate when they began shouting for their brother and pushing the watch about. The heavy door had shut as per orders, and the guards on the wall were shouting down at the aggrieved peasants.
“Give us our brother back!”
“Fuck off to your mud or we’ll flog you.”
“Give him back, or we’ll drag you into the fucking mud!”
“Reckon we should arrest you all for having a monster!”
“His arm’s ill, happened at birth, thirty fucking years ago!”
A crowd had gathered to watch, and a young boy saw what was happening and ran through the streets until he reached an inn. He ducked inside, ran up to a woman, and told her what was happening.
Alia nodded, passed a copper coin over, and called her friends together. They were soon running the way the boy had come, and arrived to see a mob of villagers beating on the watchtower and throwing stones at the guard above them.
“Can anyone explain what’s happening?” Jonas asked.
“They caught a monster.”
“What sort?”
“The arm is all wizened up. I saw it, shrunken and misshapen.”
Jonas sighed and turned to the others. “It’s not his work. He makes things healthy, not sick.”
“Then they have the wrong man,” Alia agreed. “God knows what they’ll do to him.”
“Do we go and get him out?” Trimas pondered aloud.
“We can’t go in there in force, we’re trying to get them hunting for us.” Jonas’ face betrayed that he wanted to kick the door down right there, but Trimas nodded at the display of control and experience.
“Let’s see if we can talk. Where is this so-called General?”
They rushed through the streets until they came to the watch’s main building, and found an armed group marching towards them.
“General?” Jonas called.
“We’re busy, have a mob to crush,” Arek said.
“General, there’s been a mistake…”
“No, you were right, we found one.”
“That’s not what I…”<
br />
“Now get out of the way or I’ll arrest you. Urgent mob to crush.”
Jonas didn’t flinch physically, but he did inside at the relish in the man’s voice. There was going to be a fight, and he couldn’t stop this man marching into it.
Jonas now stood back, and the watch marched on. “People think we’re the brutal ones. No, it’s men like him who are brutal,” he said to the others with a sick feeling in his stomach.
Inside the watchtower the prisoner had been locked away, and the men and women had dressed to repel boarders.
“Alright, as soon as we hear fighting we open the door and drive them off. Clubs only, no blades…”
“Sounds like it’s happening.”
“Open!”
The villagers had been focusing on what was in front of them, and the first club cracked a skull with total surprise. Half had then turned, rocks in hands, as the door opened and watch surged out. The villagers hadn’t come armed for a fight, and were swiftly driven to flight, turning and running out of the gates, trying to cajole their horses into coming alongside.
“Shall we pursue, sir?”
“No. We know where they’re from. I want to see this monster.”
*****
It sat wobbling in the corner, a large mass without angles or form, all curves and the stench of bodily fluids. As a finger poked closer and closer the mass of fat seemed to await contact, and then the finger poked again and it wobbled.
“Will you stop doing that?” Marlen ordered.“Why are you in my operating chamber anyway?” He hadn’t looked up from the patient but his voice was heavy with instruction.
“I have a report.”
“Reports wait until I have finished. This is delicate work.”
“This one really can’t.”
Deciding to trust his staff, Marlen looked at the patient. “Give me a few minutes.”
Time passed quickly, before Marlen leaned back and commented, “You look so much more muscular and healthy now,” and stood. What is it?”
“A report from the city. The guards arrested someone, the villagers got upset and they burned a watchtower down.”
Marlen bent to wash the blood off his hands in a bucket, then dried himself with a towel.
“Burned it?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And did you see any smoke?”
“Er, no.”
“No smoke. Did you smell anything?”
“Besides, er, oh, er, no.”
“Right. So is there any proof it was burned?”
“Actually none that I know of.”
“Start again and tell me exactly what you saw.”
“The watch did arrest someone, I saw them brought in. Peasants caused a scene in front of the watch, and I left when they started being beaten by the watch.”
“Now that is plausible, and fits in with what’s happening. But tell me, who was arrested?”
“A male, mid thirties, called him a monster so it’s one of us they’re after.”
Monsters, insulting all my patients. “Why did they think he was one of mine?”
“His arm was shrivelled up.”
Marlen screwed his face up. “They thought a deformed man was my work? They really don’t know me, do they. They don’t have the first clue. And yet … and yet, the watch could be doing serious damage if they’re running around taking anyone who doesn’t conform. We’ll probably all be fine, but all those people, they need help, care, treatment, they need what I can give them, they don’t need to be beaten and arrested by the sort of person who pulled insects apart as a child.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Firstly, you can scoop that fat up and put it in a container until I work out what to do with it. Secondly, you can give me some time to think.”
“Pick it up?”
“Well you’re so fascinated with it. Should have thought of that before you started poking. Maybe we can put it back into a terribly thin person. Assuming they’ve not all been arrested as undead or something stupid.”
*****
“Do we all know what we’re doing?”
This time, when the sergeant spoke, he wasn’t facing a slightly nervous, slightly unprepared group of watchmen and women. This time, he was facing three times that number with their weapons already drawn, and the need to break heads on their faces.
“Yes!” they cheered, which technically needed a ‘sir’ on the end of it, but he’d let them off as they were clearly ready for a fight. Actually, better calm this down a bit.
“We’re not here to kill anyone. Rough them up and see what’s in that mine. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Right, follow me,” and they turned and began to march.
The mine looked much as they left it yesterday, except for the boy stood on watch, who began ringing a bell as soon as the invaders could be seen. People now began running about, and as the road ended and the watch marched onto mine territory, a large body of men formed up.
“Clear out now!” the sergeant shouted, not bothering to slow his unit or try to negotiate again.
With clubs and armour approaching them, the miners raised their pick handles and prepared to meet them.
The impact, when it came, raised black dust into the air, soon to be joined by curses, shouts of pain and heavy thuds. Blunt pieces of wood struck flesh and armour, the first yielding, the second not so much, and the swirling impact of the fight almost cost the watch their cohesion. But they managed to stay together, managed to use their greater training until the miners began to be forced back, their cohesion now lost.
Then came the break of morale, and the miners dropped back quickly en masse, weapons dropped and hands up, faces bloodied, many sporting broken bones, pleading for a surrender and time to tend their wounded, both walking and still on the ground.
The watch surrounded them, tired but victorious, and the sergeant pointed his next order. Watchmen and women who retained some vigour marched over to the mine entrance and began using mining tools to smash the barricade down, while shouting curses at those still inside, until finally a way in had been broken and the other staff had trotted out under protest. As per orders, no one was dead, but plenty wouldn’t work for a while.
“Right, you fucks are all in trouble. I want the ringleaders pointed out so we can flog them, here and now. Meanwhile you,” and a finger was jabbed at the smartly dressed foreman, “will go with my people, we see what you’ve got hidden away in there.”
“There’s nothing you imbecile,” the foreman replied.
“We can flog you as well just as easy. Get moving.”
When the party emerged from the mine, the flogging had produced a puddle of blood on the ground beneath a hastily erected cross, and the movement of the whip had spread the ichor across the faces of many watching miners.
“What did you find?” the sergeant asked urgently.
“Nothing, sir. Just a mine.”
“Just a mine?” He turned to the miners. “What the fuck were you defending?”
“Our mine,” was barked in reply.
*****
Karina stood looking at the new magistrate asleep in her bed. It was late and she'd exhausted him. She shook herself, feeling dirty. Her father had told her long ago that she should use all the weapons at her disposal to get ahead and this was probably the most powerful. She hated having to do this but secure relations needed to be built fast after the 'trouble' with the previous magistrate. And fast usually meant crude. She'd been left in an awkward position as her network was not yet ready.
She concentrated on what she had achieved but the dirty feeling wouldn't go away. Not feeling particularly tired, she decided a workout might help. She slipped the brass knuckles out from under her pillow and walked away quietly, leaving her 'companion' to slumber. The air was cool against her skin as she sneaked through her house, feeling more alive as she did this than at any time earlier that night. Oh the magistrate had tried and it had been fun, but no
thing felt to her quite like the thrill of doing something clandestine, and being unclad as she did it added an extra frisson. Oh, not as much as a proper job, this was her own house after all and the only people that might see her would be her servants anyway, but still, sneaking held its own thrill.
She made her way unnoticed to her workout yard, tucked away in a corner of the house. She positioned herself before the cloth-clad workout dummy and started laying into it with controlled power. She practised a variety of combinations, the brass knuckles leaving an indelible mark on her malleable target. After a period of furious activity she paused for breath, sweat glistening all over, the cool nighttime breeze bringing a slight chill. Though now sweating all the more from her exertions, she somehow felt cleaner than she had a short while ago. It was a dirty business she was in.
"You become a more interesting employer every day," a voice said from behind her.
"I needed a bath anyway, didn't seem much point in getting any more clothes dirty," Karina said without turning to face him, but quite unashamed. "Besides, you've seen me like this before."
"Never quite so … active though."
"I like to keep in shape."
"Just how old are you?"
K arina turned to face the thin man. "There are some questions you just don't ask a lady. It's terrible manners."
"Indeed. So how old are you?"
"Old enough. Was there something you wanted or did you just come to ogle?"
"You're still using your body as a weapon?"
"My father once told me that I needed to use all assets at my disposal to get ahead."
"Strange advice to come from a father."
"Perhaps."
"Are you going to sleep with the Magistrate every time you want something?"
"Don't be daft. Enough to get him hooked but not enough to sate him. You know the game. Now I assume there was a reason for you disturbing me?"
"I'm curious."
"I don't to have to remind you who is in charge here."
"I work for you because you intrigue me, not because I'm scared of you."
"Your mistake."
"Oh, I'm a little scared of you too, if that helps. Not too much, but a little. I have some idea of the things you have done, after all."
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 41
