“So what’s the story with Sal Munton? You and Stone were the ones who got him arrested.”
“How well do you know Kaya?”
“She’s a mischievous girl, disappears a lot, I know that much. Why?”
Nuria hesitated. She knew that Quinn had suffered as a child. She wasn’t sure how she would react to hearing Kaya’s story. She had to tell her. Quinn was silent for a long time.
“But Sal Munton has the kids stealing and killing.”
“Kaya says that some of the children are his own but most are runaways who have been a victim of the Predator and his healer.”
“Is that even possible? To heal wounds with touch?”
“I’ve seen it done.”
“So he’s been protecting these children from this monster? I doubt anyone will see him as a hero. He still encouraged them into a life of crime.”
“I think he’s a complicated man.”
Quinn snorted. “Yeah, aren’t they all?” She looked at her brother’s grave. “How long have you been with Stone?”
“A while now.”
“Do you love him?”
Nuria drank. “We travel together. We’re not sleeping with each other.”
“Do you want to be sleeping with him?”
“We’re burying your brother, Quinn.”
“A bit of girl chat isn’t going to piss him off.”
Nuria smiled. Her cup was empty. She reached for the bottle. It was empty, too.
“We’re companions. That’s all.”
“Do you want it to be more? Does he?”
“We’re good together. I think that’s enough. For both of us. We’ve been through a lot.”
“How did you meet him?”
“He took me hostage. He’d killed some people and used me to escape.”
Quinn looked at her. “That should shock me.”
“But it doesn’t, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. He never gave up in Mosscar. I know he was wounded. I could see the blood. He was in a lot of pain. But he didn’t care. He just kept fighting to get us out of there. Why did he save me?”
“Did you ask him?”
“He didn’t really have an answer. I don’t think he knows.”
Nuria smiled. “He wants to help you find out what happened to Clarissa.”
“But why? You people never knew my little girl.”
Daniel’s body vanished beneath the dirt. Quinn stared into the half-filled grave.
“It’s what he does,” said Nuria. “And he’s good at it.”
“Why do you keep staring at me?” asked Kaya.
Stone shook his head.
“Can’t I stay with Nuria and Quinn?”
“They have something to take care of.”
“One more body isn’t going to scare me.”
“I need you with me.”
“Why?”
“I want you to be safe.”
She was sat on a low wall, kicking her feet.
“My family might have survived. Dad has a secret room. They could still be in there.”
“They’re dead. You’re on your own.”
“Why do you have to say it like that? You don’t know that. Why are you being mean to me?”
She leaned against him, sniffed, cried. He waited. Soldiers and villagers rushed this way and that. She cried some more and then wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
Kaya had told Nuria everything; she was abducted, from time to time, by two men who wore masks. She never saw their faces, not once, she only heard their voices, but was certain they were not local men. She had been blindfolded and tied up and taken by wagon and given to another man with a gruff and older voice. He had stripped her and beat her and then abused himself. Bleeding and pleading for help, the abuser would fetch the healer and her skin would be repaired.
Stone had listened in silence, fists growing tense.
“I have a friend back in Gallen. She’s a healer but … do you see this scar, Kaya, the one on my face?”
“The man with the whip did that to you.”
“That’s right. And he’s dead. My friend, Emil, can heal any wound but she could never make them disappear. She could mend you but the scars would still remain. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Kaya’s feet stopped swinging. “Are you’re saying you don’t believe me?”
“No. I’m saying this is a very powerful healer. And it would take someone with power and influence to control her.”
She fell silent.
“Let’s walk.”
She trudged alongside him, swinging her arms, passing low stone buildings with turf roofs. The shops were closed. The animals were sleeping. Smoke drifted from chimneys. She could easily be home in Great Onglee. Stone saw the long road east toward Touron. He wasn’t prepared to travel it yet. Nuria claimed that Sal Munton had been hunting the Predator for sometime, concealing the victims within his gang of thieves. There was no way he would talk if he still had charges against him. Boyd would have to ensure he was freed.
Unless Stone could root out the abuser tonight.
He could feel Kaya’s eyes on him as they walked, that mischievous glint, the cheeky smirk on her lips. Then a cloud would descend and wipe it all away. He led her to the inn.
“I’m not allowed in there.”
He winked at her. It was warm inside and the air was tinged with pipe smoke, ale and the sweat of men. Despite the threat against the village a large number of patrons sat at tables and lined the bar where Bertram poured drinks and engaged in idle chat. Stone let the door close.
“That was a quick trip,” said Bertram.
He wore the same brown apron over a heavy woollen shirt.
“Children are not allowed.”
“I’m not a child.”
Bertram snorted. Someone along the bar chuckled.
“We won’t be long,” said Stone.
“It doesn’t matter how long you are. The law is the law.”
Stone rested his hand on the revolver in his belt. “I think the law has more important things to deal with tonight.”
“Let her stay,” said one of the drinkers. “Nice to have a pretty girl in here.”
Laughter. “Let your wife hear you say that!”
More laughter. “You notice how Bertram only chucks out girls. I reckon we need to be careful around him.”
Even more laughter.
Kaya blushed. She ducked her head, thrust her hands into her pockets. Thick hair tumbled across her forehead. Stone placed a large stack of coins on the bar, far more than was required.
“Two beers.”
Carrying the mugs, he found a spot in the corner. The seats were rough hewn, the table uneven. Kaya coughed as her lungs filled with pipe smoke. She spotted the large wooden cross nailed over the hearth. She had prayed to the cross for it to stop. Prayed night and day to be left alone. Sometimes she thought the Lord had heard her and it was finally all over but then the men would grab her once more and she would disappear for a few days. Now her prayers had been answered in Stone and Nuria. They would kill the monster.
She leaned toward him. “What are we doing here?”
He sipped the beer, stared over the rim of the mug. There were nearly twenty men crammed into the inn. Kaya lifted her drink, swallowed a mouthful. She grimaced at the taste. Two men at the bar, watching her closely, laughed.
“That’s horrible. How can you drink it?”
“Listen.”
“To what?”
“You said the men who took you weren’t from Great Onglee. Brix is the nearest village. More likely they’re from here.”
“But I thought we were going to see Sal in Touron.”
“You’ve been seen, Kaya. If the men who work for the Predator are here then we can draw them out tonight and end it. We’ll work our way through the village to find them if we have to.”
An icy tickle shivered down her spine, despite the warmth in the room. Her lip curled with perspiration.
“It’s none of these men.”
“We’ve only just got here.”
“I don’t recognise any voices.”
“We can sit somewhere else.”
“I want to go. I don’t want to be in here.”
He turned in his seat. “You’re safe with me, Kaya.”
“How can you say that?”
“Bad things won’t happen to you if I’m here.”
She fiddled with her hair.
“Bad things always happen.”
“Just stay.”
She fidgeted. “Everyone’s dead. I don’t care anymore. He can do what he wants.”
“Listen.”
There was lively conversation all around, spiked with bawdy laugher, table thumping and back slapping. They were an amiable bunch, content to drink whilst their fellow villagers dashed about preparing for a possible attack. Stone assumed they didn’t care or didn’t believe trouble was around the corner or simply recognised that if Great Onglee had fallen then what chance had Brix with even less Churchmen on duty?
A gust of cold air rushed into the inn as the door creaked open. It was Dobbs and Farrell.
Dobbs walked to the bar, calling out. Farrell stamped mud from his boots and closed the door. The younger man had been in a fresh tussle. His nose looked bruised and there were scratches down one cheek. The older man, suddenly realising his partner was missing, turned from the bar and followed Farrell’s line of vision.
“What the fuck are you doing back here?”
Stone stared at him.
“I don’t want any trouble tonight, Dobbs,” said Bertram.
All around the conversation petered out.
“Have a drink,” cried one of the regulars.
“Did you hear about Great Onglee?”
Dobbs narrowed his eyes. His hand drifted to his sword.
“Dobbs,” warned Bertram. “Don’t do it.”
Farrell cleared his throat. “Let’s get a drink.” He slapped his older companion on the shoulder, nudged him toward the bar. “Now, what’s all this business about Great Onglee?”
Stone never took his eyes from them.
Then he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He glanced down and saw Kaya’s trembling hand digging into it.
TWENTY
Words.
Round and round in circles. She was floating, somewhere, somehow. The day was lost. The night was lost.
How old was she?
What was the colour of her hair and eyes?
A husband, she had a husband, Brian, that was his name. Coming round, slowly, very slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece.
Words.
Round and round in circles, the light punching through, remembering, puzzle pieces assembling, one after the other; the Holy House, the man, the man with the bald head, the man on the cross, the same, the same man, the blood, remembering, no, the blood, she was bleeding, she had pain, the pain, why did she have the pain? Where had the pain come from?
No!
Shauna’s eyes flicked open.
“It’s okay.”
She was panting.
“You fainted.”
“Get away from me.”
She was unsteady on her feet. The blood was stained down her leg. She didn’t recognise where she was; a poky room with stone walls. It was cold and her nose tingled from the dust and damp.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me.”
“Shauna?” It was Father Devon, his tone gentle, brow furrowed with concern. “What happened to you, child?”
She hissed. “Stay away from me. You’re one of them. You’re the same, hiding behind the cross, you bastard.”
Father Devon gaped at the Map Maker. “Can you help her?”
“That bastard sent them after me. They raped me. Bastards. You don’t know who he is. How can you protect him? He’s going to kill him. They’re all in on it. Brian, Jeremy, Rush.”
The Map Maker blinked.
Father Devon shook his head. “What has happened to you, Shauna?”
He turned to the Map Maker. “Save her. Please. Wash the sin from her and save her soul.”
You are taller than any of them, my son. You are their saviour. See how they kneel before you.
Our time is coming. Our time is soon.
His shoulders felt immensely heavy. He looked at the fragile young woman, near hysterical, one step from madness.
Brian, Jeremy, Rush? What was that all about?
“I can help you,” said the Map Maker. His voice was soothing. “Let me help you, Shauna.”
He reached for her.
“Let me take you away from the pain.”
She felt his words. Looked into his eyes. Saw the warmth. He was here for her. Her prayers had been answered.
Father Devon held open the door as the Map Maker guided her back into the Holy House.
He watched them shuffle between the pews, Shauna’s words swirling in his head.
That bastard sent them after me. They raped me. How can you protect him? He’s going to kill him. They’re all in on it. Brian, Jeremy, Rush.
Father Devon needed to go to the barracks.
“I know,” hissed Dobbs, pissing on the ground outside his house. “I’m not fucking blind. I saw her, too.”
His speech was slurred. It was a long and loud piss. The wind echoed through the village.
“Then we should get out of here,” said Farrell, leaning against the wall. “She might have told him already.”
“So what?” said Dobbs, shaking. “What’s he going to do? You afraid of an old man?”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
Dobbs chuckled. “No, that’s right; it’s the blonde bitch you’re afraid of. That cunt put you down like a girl.”
“You backed off as well.”
“Tram had crossbows on me. What the fuck was I supposed to do? You don’t mess with a crossbow.”
He reached angrily for the door.
“Look, so fucking what if Kaya says anything. She never saw our faces. It’s her word against ours.”
“But what about Shauna?” whispered Farrell. “What if she talks? I want to go back to Touron, Dobbs. There’s too much shit for us around here. Shauna and now this girl showing up with Stone.”
“We don’t have enough coin to pay our debts in Touron. You know that. Look, I’ve got an idea about how we can …”
He cut himself short. There was an outline in the gloom. A man. Tall. Hands dangling loose.
Watching, waiting.
Dobbs reached for his sword.
Stone’s right hand whipped to his revolver. The bang was deafening. The bullet splintered Dobbs’ forehead.
He toppled back, a shocked expression across his face.
“Fuck,” said Farrell. “Oh, fuck. No, no, no, no, no …”
Stone strode toward him, hooked him once, a meaty left. Farrell jerked and howled in pain. His head was spinning. Stone emerged into streaks of moonlight and Farrell saw the dead looking eyes of a living and breathing nightmare, a man who had been shot and stabbed, slashed and whipped and beaten but was still moving and was coming straight for him.
He threw up. “It was all Dobbs. I just go along with him. We owe coin in Touron. It wasn’t me, it’s not my fault, it was all…”
Stone cracked his revolver across Farrell’s face and dragged him inside.
Quinn showed Nuria a comb, strands of brown hair caught in the teeth.
“It belonged to Clarissa. I can still smell her.”
She held it for several moments before slipping it into her pocket where is nestled with her father’s pipe. They were inside the cottage, drinking, the fire lit, Kaya curled beside it, head rocking, trying to fight sleep.
“She looks exhausted,” said Nuria. “She’s been through so much.”
“What will Stone do to them?”
Nuria lifted her cup. “Everything they deserve.”
The fire crackled. The village was mostly quiet now. It was black outsi
de. And windy.
Quinn glanced around the cottage. “I don’t think I’ll come back here after tonight.”
“Where will you stay?”
She shrugged. “Touron, I suppose. No more fetes and festivals with Benny. Those days are over.”
Nuria looked at Kaya. “She’s asleep.”
The girl mumbled. “I’m not.”
The two women smiled at each other. Quinn reached for the bottle. It was empty once more.
She got to her feet.
“I’m sure I have another.”
Farrell opened his eyes.
He was inside, the door was wide open and he could see the black night. His head was throbbing. He could taste blood. His nose felt fractured. He tried to move but his ankles and wrists were bound to a chair. It came rushing back to him; Stone shooting Dobbs and then battering him unconscious. He heard a loud grunt and turned his head and saw Stone backing into the house, dragging the body. He let it drop and closed the door.
Moonlight filtered through the window shutters. Farrell opened his mouth to confess … but no words came out; he was gagged.
How can I tell you what I’ve done? Please, you have to let me speak. I’ll tell you everything.
Stone came out of the gloom, holding a knife. He tore Farrell’s shirt and slashed him once, twice.
Farrell screamed into the gag.
Tears sprang into his eyes.
No, let me talk, you don’t have to do this. Please, don’t torture me, it hurts, it hurts.
Stone slashed him again and again. Four lines of blood. Farrell’s chest heaved, sweat ran down his face.
Please, no more, mercy, fuck, please, I don’t want to die, it was Dobbs, it was Dobbs, it was …
Stone placed the knife at the man’s groin. He lowered the gag. Farrell was sobbing.
“Now you know what I’m capable of,” said Stone, leaning toward him, nose to nose. “Tell me who the Predator is.”
“It was all Dobbs. I didn’t want to do it. Please, Stone, please, I’m sorry. We have debts back in Touron. Big fucking debts, it was all Dobbs; he got us mixed up in all this shit with the deacon. I didn’t want to rape Brian’s wife but he wanted to send a message. You see, they have to light the beacon. It’s all about that fucking beacon. Brian has to light it when he comes back. Shauna was going to blab. Rush had to stop her. I didn’t want any part of it but we needed the coin.”
The Wasteland Soldier, Book 3, Drums Of War (TWS) Page 25
