"That's one against five. Not very good odds," Akin observed, looking out the window.
"Then we need to level them a bit," Father Thomas replied. "This is what we will do . . ."
When Father Thomas and Lara failed to show up at the Stone Pheasant, it was obvious they were more than just a little delayed. Collin and Mathew took turns waiting for them in the common room. Alone in a strange city occupied by mercenaries, their situation began to look increasingly bleak. Each new alternative they considered was as unacceptable as the last. And as Collin pointed out at least three times that day, there was the small matter of money to consider. At best, their funds would be gone in two, possibly three more days. The merchants they came into contact with were all sorry, most of them genuinely so, but they were still... well, merchants. Neither of them wanted to consider the possibility that Father Thomas and Lara might not return at all.
When Mathew came downstairs, two soldiers who had been there most of the afternoon were still in the same places they'd occupied before he left, except now they were now joined by a third.
"I see our friends are still here," he said, settling into a seat across from Collin.
"Shh, I want to hear this," Collin whispered, moving closer to the edge of the booth.
From the volume of the conversation, it was obvious that at least two of the three soldiers were well into then-second bottle of wine. Mathew glanced at the mirror on the wall. They were all large men, dressed in the same manner as those who had boarded the Wave Dancer. Each carried a sword across their backs, as was the custom in Vargoth. Their black capes were thrown haphazardly across the top of Collin and Mathew's booth. Mathew reached forward casually, picking up their own bottle of Sennian red wine, and poured a glass.
"Keep yer flamin' voice down, I tell you," the newcomer said.
"And I tell you, I was there—so was Bill. We both saw it with our own eyes," the one who wasn't Bill replied.
"What of it, then?" the first man growled.
"If it wasn't magic, you tell me what it was. I couldn't have been fifty yards from Duren when he knocked down the gates and half the wall at Anderon."
Mathew stiffened at the mention of Duren's name. Collin met his eyes for a second, then looked away, concentrating on the conversation behind them.
"I never believed in magic until I saw what he did," the other man said. Mathew assumed it was Bill speaking. "He just raised his hands and the gates blew to pieces. There was a crash like you've never heard before. Ern's telling it straight."
"And that wasn't the worst of it," Ern went on. "He
sent balls of fire into the middle of their ranks. They broke and ran just like they did in the field that morning. Them that didn't get away were roasted to death. And Duren just stands there on that hill, smiling all the while."
"So?" the new man said. "We didn't sign up to go on a picnic, did we?"
"Yeah, but it ain't natural," Bill replied. "And that's no way for a soldier to die."
"What'd you care how they die, as long as they do?"
"I don't know," Ern said. "Soldiers is one thing. But he burnt women and children too. Had 'em dragged out to the market plaza and burnt 'em alive. I saw that with my own eyes and no one can say I didn't. I'm telling you, he's as crazy as they come. And that sister of his—"
"He must have killed thousands, if he killed one," Bill added.
"And I'm telling you for the last time, lower yer flamin' voice."
There was a clinking of glasses on the other side of the wooded partition separating the booths. It was followed by a silence. Mathew realized his heart was pounding, and took a couple of deep breaths to slow it. Collin's face was pale and his eyes were locked on Mathew's, watching him.
"How can you be sure the sister's coming here?" Ern asked after a moment.
"I'm not sure of nothing," the new man said. "I'm just repeating what the colonel told my captain. That's why we're moving everything up toward Tremont. The Bajani and the Alor Satar are chasing what's left of their army from the north, and we're coming at 'em from the south. With the Nyngaryns and Cincar closing them off from the east, they'll be trapped—nowhere to go. In two days it'll be over. Easy money for us."
"What about the west?" Ern asked.
"They'd have to cross the mountains into Sennia, and the Sennians are staying out of it so far, so are the Mir-dites."
"Do you think the Orlocks will show up here as well? They give me the shakes just looking at them." It was Bill's voice again.
A heated exchange followed among the occupants of the booth, but it was mostly in angry whispers. Neither Mathew nor Collin were able to hear what was said.
It was still going on when Collin said, "I've heard enough of this. Let's get out of here."
"One of us has to be here in case Father Thomas and Lara show up," Mathew replied.
He was as shaken as Collin by the conversation he'd just heard, but his mind was trying to settle on what they had to do next. The first priority was to somehow get word to the Elgarian army. And that promised to be no easy task. He didn't know where Tremont was, except it was someplace north of them. He was also unfamiliar with the countryside. They needed Father Thomas. But if the priest didn't come soon, it might be too late.
"I'll stay," he said.
"Fine," Collin answered, sliding out of the booth.
Mathew grabbed his friend's arm as he started to leave and pulled him closer. After seventeen years, the look on Collin's face was familiar to him.
"Listen, this is not the time to do anything stupid. We need to find Father Thomas and let him know about this."
Collin started to pull away but Mathew held onto his arm. He could see what was building in his friend's eyes.
"And what if he's dead already? What if they're both dead?" Collin whispered fiercely.
There was a mixture of anger and frustration in his voice, and something else too—accusation. Mathew slowly released his fingers.
When Collin got outside, he turned left and started walking rapidly. He was angry. Angry at their situation. Angry with himself for the words he had used to Mat, and furious that so many people had been needlessly murdered. He felt like throwing back his head and screaming, or better yet, hitting somebody. But what would that accomplish?
It might make me feel better, he grumbled to himself.
After about two blocks he came to a halt and took a deep breath. There had to be something they could do. Two more days and the Elgarian army would be trapped and destroyed. He'd never been to Alor Satar, or even met anyone from that country, but if they were anything like the Vargothans, there was little doubt in his mind that El-garia was in dire trouble.
Uncertain what to do or which direction to take, he walked a little more, then stopped next to an alleyway that ran between two buildings. A woman with two young children was coming up the street toward him, and he stepped aside to allow them to pass. When they got close enough, he could see she was young and had a pretty face.
Probably not much older than me, he thought.
She glanced at him nervously, then looked away, pulling the children closer to her. Fear and apprehension beclouded her features. She disappeared around the corner without looking back. It was the same expression he had seen on a number of other faces since they'd arrived in Tyraine.
Collin shook his head sadly. This was no way for anyone to live. Duren had no right to do this to them—to anyone. People's lives were their own. It was what he'd grown up knowing in dull, boring Devondale. Except no one ever mentioned it. A fundamental concept was a favorite expression of Father Thomas. Now ...
This is no good, he thought. Got to go back and tell Mat I didn 't mean anything by what I said.
Just as he turned to go, a hand clamped over his mouth and he felt himself being lifted off his feet and carried into the alley. Collin reacted immediately, lashing backward with his foot. He struck something solid, which felt very much like the trunk of a tree
. The blow had no effect at all on his assailant. He fought wildly, trying to free himself from the grasp of whoever was holding him. The man was incredibly powerful, and Collin's efforts had no more effect than a child against an adult.
"Collin . . . Collin, it's all right. It's me. Stop fighting."
He knew that voice.
A second later the hold around his chest relaxed and his captor set him down. He turned and found himself staring into the smiling face of Fergus Gibb. Standing next to him was one of the largest men Collin had ever seen.
"Fergus!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around him.
They embraced with the warmth of two lost friends finding each other in a strange place.
"What? How?" Collin sputtered when they separated.
"I'm sorry." Fergus laughed, drawing Collin deeper into the alley. "Truly I am. But it was the only way we could get you off the street quick enough without attracting attention ourselves."
"I don't understand. How did you get here?" Collin asked.
"Siward Thomas sent me. I've been here for over a week waiting for you. Oh. . . excuse my lack of manners. Collin, this is Gawl. He's one of us."
Collin looked up at a bearded face. He was almost six feet tall himself, but this man was huge. He was easily a foot taller than him and looked like he weighed at least 325 pounds—all solid muscle.
"One of us? He looks more like three of us."
Two bushy eyebrows came together briefly, then the large face broke a wide grin, showing a mouth full of white, even teeth. It changed him a great deal. Gawl extended a hand, completely engulfing Collin's hand in his own.
"Well said, young friend. Obviously, Fergus, we have found a man of wit as well as manners," Gawl's deep voice rumbled. "You were not only polite enough to step aside for that woman and her children, but most accommodating to us as well. I trust I did not hurt you."
"No, but you nearly scared me to death. I'm sorry I kicked you."
"Think no more on it." Gawl smiled again. "I have grown accustomed to this rough and tumble life . .. though only with the greatest reluctance."
"Gawl is a sculptor," Fergus said.
"A sculptor?" Collin said, looking at Gawl again. He blinked as a pair of warm brown eyes looked down at him.
"Indeed. Soldiering is Only a sometime vocation with me. I have a studio just outside Barcora. Has anyone ever told you that you have a most interesting bone structure? Perhaps you'll allow me to do your head sometime."
The remark did little to increase Collin's sense of comfort as he stood next to the giant. "You're a Sennian?" he asked, shifting the subject away from Gawl's "doing his head." Whatever that meant, he was perfectly willing to leave his education on the subject for another time.
Gawl bowed slightly in response.
"How did you know where to find me?" he asked, turning to Fergus.
"We were watching you from across the street, hoping you and Mat would step out of the tavern. When you did, we followed. But you were walking so fast, it took us several blocks just to catch up."
"I don't see why you didn't just come in."
"Well... it seems the mercenaries found two of their soldiers dead with broken necks. They've been searching the city looking for a large fellow who was seen in the area. And if I'm not mistaken, there were three Vargothan soldiers keeping you company in the common room. So we felt it best not to attract attention to ourselves."
Collin looked from Fergus to Gawl, who smiled at him, showing his teeth again. This time, it only seemed to give him a feral aspect.
"I see. Mat and I have been waiting for Father Thomas and Lara. We were supposed to meet them at the Stone Pheasant yesterday."
"Father Thomas?" Gawl said in a deep base voice. "You did say Father Thomas, didn't you?"
"Yes," Collin replied.
"Siward Thomas is a priest?" he asked, looking at Fergus.
Fergus spread his hands and shrugged.
Collin was unprepared for Gawl's reaction. The man put his head back and began to laugh. It was a rich, booming sound.
"For God's sake, Gawl, hold it down. You'll have every soldier within five blocks down on us."
"Forgive me," he said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye with a thick finger. "I have heard much in the past few weeks, but I simply was not prepared for the news that Siward Thomas is a priest. This is just wonderful," he added, still chuckling to himself.
"I take it, then, you know Father Thomas?" Collin asked.
"Oh, yes," Gawl answered, struggling to hold back a fresh round of laughter. "We served together many years ago in the last war. Another unfortunate distraction that kept me from my work, as it turned out."
"I was about to tell you, before I was interrupted, that we know where Father Thomas and Lara are," Fergus said. "It seems they're staying at the house of the mayor, or the late mayor, I should say."
"The mayor's house? They're prisoners?"
"If they're in prison, I'll gladly exchange our accommodations with them," Fergus said. "No, they arrived yesterday—with an escort, in Danus's own coach. He's the Vargoth commander, by the way."
"Perhaps Siward has convinced him to convert," Gawl suggested, starting to chuckle at his own joke again.
Fergus chose to ignore that. "My brother and Daniel got here today," he said, "and were also brought there, but we have no idea why, or what's going on."
"We need to go back and get Mat," Collin said. "We overheard some soldiers talking at the tavern. Father Thomas needs to know what they said."
Collin quickly retold what he and Mathew had heard about the four armies converging on what was left of the Elgarian forces.
Gawl's face gradually lost all traces of humor while he listened. When Collin was through, he and Fergus looked at each other.
"This is serious," Gawl said. "We're going to have to act, and act now."
Fergus slowly nodded in agreement, his face having grown as grave as Gawl's.
"It's more serious than you know, Collin. The Elgari-ans are camped not fifty miles from here at a town called Tremont. That, by the way, was where I met Gawl. Everyone thought we'd have at least a week before Duren arrived. Delain's plan is to take Tyraine back in three days, hopefully with the help of Sennians and Mirdite reinforcements, assuming they get here in time."
"Delain? Prince Delairi?"
Fergus nodded.
"Correct," Gawl said. "We have no choice but to act now." He had a hand on Fergus that covered most of his shoulder. "Go back to the tavern and bring the other boy. We'll meet at the mayor's house."
He turned and disappeared into the street before Collin had time to think.
An hour later Mathew found himself standing with Fergus and Collin in a park directly across from the mayor's home. Gawl found them shortly afterward. As far as Mathew could tell, the situation had gone from bad to worse. Two more Vargothan mercenaries had joined the guards already there. When he saw them, Gawl shook his head and mumbled something Mathew couldn't quite make out. Mathew watched Gawl carefully look over the house and the surrounding area with an almost detached interest. It was obvious he was assessing the strengths and weakness they would have to contend with.
Eventually, Gawl told them to wait where they were and vanished once again among the trees. Mathew watched him go, impressed that so big a man could move with that much speed and stealth. A short while later he returned and informed them he had procured a sufficient number of horses that were tied up at the opposite end of the park. Under the circumstances, Mathew thought it best not to inquire exactly how he accomplished it.
Twice they caught glimpses of Father Thomas and Akin through the windows, but they had no chance of signaling to them. The answer to their problem came in a form that Mathew never would have suspected. Just as Gawl was beginning to outline his plan, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Collin. Everyone turned to see what he was staring at, including Mathew, whose mouth had dropped open.
There on the
second floor of the house, one of the tall glass windows stood open with the curtains pulled aside. In clear view to anyone who glanced up was the naked back of a woman bathing, her long chestnut-brown hair thrown over one shoulder. Humming, she languidly lifted one arm and run a sponge down it. It took Mathew a second to realize the woman was Lara.
In shock, he started to get to his feet, but Gawl restrained him with a warning hand on his shoulder. The two of the soldiers stationed across the street from the house were also looking up, obviously enjoying the show. One of them motioned his companions over, putting a finger on his lips and pointing toward the window. Mathew felt his face flush and started to rise again. Before he could do so, Fergus tapped him on the shoulder, frantically pointing to the ledge at the side of the house. He watched in amazement as Daniel emerged through a window on the second floor, then inched along a thin ledge until he was directly over one of the guards at the corner. On the opposite side of the house Akin squeezed through a window and moved toward the other guard. The soldier stationed in front of the door didn't leave his post but craned his neck to see what was going on.
"Isn't that... ?" Fergus's voice trailed off, finally recognizing his brother poised on the ledge above the man.
Meanwhile, Lara continued to hum, running the sponge up and down her arms and around her back with a complete lack of concern. When she stood up and walked across the room to get a towel, turning sideways in the
process, the soldiers in the street nearly fell over themselves trying to get a better look.
"Can I borrow your bow?" Collin whispered to Fergus.
"What are you going to do?" Fergus replied, slipping the bow over his head and handing it to him.
"Even things out a bit."
"But their backs are to us."
"Maybe you'd like to ask them to turn around," Collin hissed under his breath. He pulled the arrow back to his cheek.
Fergus opened his mouth, then closed it again. Almost at the same time, Akin and Daniel both jumped. Daniel's feet struck the guard with a sickening thud. From clear across the street Mathew heard the sound of bones snapping. Daniel got to his feet, took the soldier's sword, and flattened himself against the side of the building. The man he had landed on didn't move. Akin mistimed his jump and nearly missed the guard completely. Fortunately, the man was so surprised by someone dropping out of the sky that he froze long enough for Akin to bring a poker down on his head.
Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 01] - The Fifth Ring (v1.0) Page 38
