He crossed the back of the general store and peered down a narrow alley, but could see nothing but the empty road beyond. The voices seemed to be coming from farther south of his position so he quickly crossed the alley. The next building was a large stable, which had a huge door in the rear that was pulled completely open. Gwaynn crept up to the door and took a moment to recheck his surroundings. He peered inside. The interior was dark but the far door was also open and there was enough light to see that horses occupied two of the stalls but otherwise the building was empty. Without hesitation Gwaynn slipped inside and moved quickly to a ladder, which led to the hayloft above. He climbed up and moved forward to another large door in the hayloft that overlooked the main road of Koshka.
He looked down and to the north at first and saw only empty road so he moved deeper into the darkness and crossed over to the opposite side of the opening. Once he was back in position he could see perhaps twenty or so Deutzani soldiers. The majority of the soldiers were spread out along the street but a group mingled in front of the hotel, which was situated catty corner across the road from the stable. Gwaynn tilted his head slightly and spotted another group of ten in front of a tavern a few buildings down. They were obviously cavalry, because a great number of horses were tethered along the road. Gwaynn made another quick count and reached nearly forty before an elderly man was dragged down the middle of the road behind a large piebald. A small soldier was riding the horse and grinning broadly. The horse was only trotting but the old man still seemed to be in considerable pain.
The rider pulled to a stop in front of the hotel and a ring of soldiers immediately surrounded the old man. At first the soldiers did nothing more menacing than give the old man a few kicks in his most sensitive areas, nothing hard and nothing which would cause any real damage. But then an older soldier moved off the porch of the hotel and came forward. Another man, a bald soldier, joined him. The second man was not tall but had a massive chest, broad shoulders and thick strong arms. The man looked to weigh as much as a horse…well perhaps a large pony.
“I am Colonel Trefft,” the older man said loud enough for Gwaynn to hear clearly. He was speaking for the town citizens who’d been caught in the open by their sudden arrival. “We’ve tracked Afton Sath to this…town,” he continued, looking around at the milling townsfolk with obvious disdain. “You will tell me his whereabouts now, or I promise you a very, very unpleasant day.”
To Gwaynn’s gratification everyone was still and quiet. The Colonel waited a few moments, peering about to see if any of the townspeople would cooperate. No one spoke up and so the Colonel nodded to the thick soldier next to him. “Sergeant Bampf.”
The Sergeant moved forward and looked down at the man who lay prone before him. The old man’s hands were still tied at the wrists, though they were tucked in toward his chest in a vain attempt to protect his body. The Sergeant reached down and grabbed the rope holding the man’s wrists and jerked his arms straight before dropping them and putting one booted foot on the old man’s left elbow effectively holding him captive. Then with a slow deliberate movement the Sergeant raised his other foot and brought it down hard on the old man’s hands.
The old man screamed as the Sergeant stomped down three more times. From above, Gwaynn winced each time, itching for his kali.
“Afton Sath?” the Colonel asked, but the old man just groaned. After another moment the Colonel nodded once more and the Sergeant stomped again and again. The stomping continued well after the screaming stopped but Gwaynn hardly noticed. His thoughts were whirling back to a similar time in Manse when he was trying to get information from another old man.
‘Your eyes remind me of his.’ The thought came unbidden and unwanted along with the image of Samantha flinching from his touch. ‘Was he like them? Was he like the Executioner? He didn’t know the answers and none were forthcoming, and he was still contemplating these questions when the old man screamed out what he knew, almost unintelligibly. Lost in thought, Gwaynn was not listening and did not notice when the old man finally died under the stomping.
“…check out the Hawser ranch, take the rest and head toward Mayfield,” Gwaynn heard the Colonel say.
Gwaynn only caught the end of the exchange and was not exactly sure what was said, but the mention of the Hawser ranch could not be good and without any hesitation he crossed to the ladder, moved carefully down and out the back door. After checking his surroundings he once more started toward the main road that led to the Hawsers. He moved calmly at first but once out of sight of the town Gwaynn took off running. He ran fast and sure, keeping most of his attention behind him, waiting for the sound of horses. Again he was not overly concerned for himself. If the soldiers caught up with him he would slip off through the hedgerows and if absolutely necessary he would move through time to avoid the enemy. His main concern was for his friends, for Krys, for Afton Sath, but especially for Samantha. She’d gone through so much just to reach the safety of the ranch. He checked back while he ran then picked up the pace. He was not running full out, but it was close and he was not sure how long he could keep it up.
After nearly two miles he began to slow. He breathing was coming in quick, deep gasps and he knew he was nearing the end of his endurance. He slowed even more and was soon running just above a jog. Somehow he managed another half a mile before the thunder of cavalry finally reached him. He pulled to a stop and turned.
“Hold!” the nearest horseman shouted. He was only about a hundred yards behind and coming fast now. Gwaynn’s heart sank, but he turned away and ran a bit farther, checking the hedgerow carefully. He spotted a small gap and immediately left the road and pushed through. He was forced to drop to his hands and knees to make it all the way to the far side of the hedge, his breathing still heavy from over exertion. The Deutzani horseman reached the point where he’d left the road just as he was standing.
“You there!” The soldiers yelled at him. “Hold!” he commanded again, but Gwaynn had no intention of doing so, instead he moved deeper into the woods and quickly came to the stream that ran in front of the Hawser’s. He crossed it before looking back. He could not see any sign of pursuit but he could hear several men struggling through the hedges and smiled. Without waiting he ran along a thin game trail which followed the far side of the stream. With any hope the soldiers would waste time attempting to catch him and be delayed in reaching the ranch.
Gwaynn, though tired, found new energy from the encounter with the soldiers, and soon settled into a rhythm he knew he could maintain until he reached his friends.
He heard nothing more from the soldiers but was slowed several times by heavy vegetation; even so it wasn’t long before he spotted the clearing up ahead that bordered the ranch house. He arrived at the tree line just as the main body of soldiers rode across the bridge. He pulled up short, wanting to remain hidden at least until he could gather his weapons.
Gwaynn circled through the woods to the back of the house, trying to remain out of sight, though most of his concentration was on the coming confrontation. Rue was out front working on some rigging with his youngest boy Brace when the soldiers rode across the bridge and moved toward the house. Gwaynn could not tell exactly how many there were, but it was too many.
Gwaynn saw Rue look up, obviously surprised, but then lost him as the corner of the main home interrupted his view. Once hidden from the soldiers Gwaynn quickly raced along the tree line until he was directly behind the back door. He checked the sides of the building, hoping no soldiers would appear and then he stepped from his hiding place. The moment he was clear of the woods, the back door creaked open loudly. Samantha stood in the doorway, bow in hand and they both froze for a long moment staring at each other, then without a word she ducked back inside, this time closing the door as gently and quietly as she could. Gwaynn rushed across the yard and reached the door just as Samantha reappeared, his kali in her hands.
“Sath?” Gwaynn asked in a whisper.
“With Krys,” she ans
wered. “He ordered me into the woods with my bow,” she explained and Gwaynn nodded.
“Get as many as you safely can,” he said with a nervous grin. She stared at him, obviously afraid, but without saying anything she nodded and streaked across the yard toward the relative safety of the trees. She only made it about half way before two soldiers appeared around the east end of the house and spotted her.
“Hold!” one soldier shouted.
“Run!” Gwaynn yelled at nearly the same time.
Samantha obeyed Gwaynn as he moved forward to meet the soldiers. He heard the clash of weapons from the far side of the house and grimaced, suddenly afraid for his friends. He rushed around the corner at the enemy, thankful for the feel of the kali in his hands. The two enemy soldiers were intent on Samantha and came to a sudden stop when they spotted Gwaynn running swiftly in their direction. After several years in the backcountry they were used to a meeker brand of Massi; the kind that ran away from a fight, not into one.
Gwaynn moved in quickly and sent a flurry of blows at the nearest soldier who backpedaled before the surprising assault. Gwaynn shifted his attention to the other man just as a high pitched cry ripped through the air. It was a cry of pain; the voice of a boy, or perhaps a woman. Gwaynn scowled and redoubled his attack, fighting with as much determination as he could muster. Though he was still tired from his run, a new surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Neither of his opponents proved to be very skilled and they both died after only a few more parries. Gwaynn wasted no time mourning them, and was no longer fretting about being like an Executioner, because at this moment in time, he was an executioner. He turned the corner and spotted Jeffery Gaston, one of the more inexperienced men in Sath’s company. He was engaged with another pair of soldiers and bleeding from an arm wound. They were pushing him to his very limits and Gwaynn could tell he was on the verge of panic. The rest of the fighting was still hidden from view and Gwaynn had little idea of how the fight was going, but without hesitation he rushed forward to aid Jeffery. He was not quite there when a large soldier with short cropped, gray hair spotted him and angled over to intercept. Gwaynn turned his attention to the new threat, but before he could engage an arrow appeared in the soldier’s chest. The man stared at Gwaynn with a mixture of surprise and blame, as if it was Gwaynn’s fault he was now dying. Gwaynn ignored him and angled by. As he passed, he blocked a feeble stroke from the dying soldier, who sought to take him along for company.
When Gwaynn came around the corner of the house he spotted Rue, Sath and Krys, plus four more of Sath’s men all battling with the enemy. Several bodies were down, but Gwaynn did not have the luxury to find out just who they were. One of the soldiers attacking the now exhausted Gaston spotted Gwaynn coming and turned to face him. Gwaynn did not slow or pause but moved through the man as if he were a child, sending his head flying from his shoulders before the soldier even realized it was in imminent danger. The other Zani soldier was quite skilled and held off Gwaynn’s first attack with grace and relative ease. Gaston hung about, trying to help, but was constantly getting in the way of any maneuvering Gwaynn could do.
“Help the others,” Gwaynn ordered but Gaston hesitated, not wanting to leave the Prince of Massi. Master Sath would not thank him for abandoning Gwaynn in the face such a skilled opponent.
Gwaynn shifted, but the soldier before him always matched his movements, using the young Gaston as a shield without ever touching him. Then the Deutzani soldier launched an adept counter attack which left both Gwaynn and Gaston backpedaling.
“Back away man!” Gwaynn yelled. “You’re in the way!”
Gaston finally retreated, knowing his energy was nearly spent in any case. He continued to watch, breathing heavily, just in case the Prince needed immediate help.
Once Gaston was out of the way, Gwaynn began to circle. The soldier before him was highly skilled and very confident, but fear showed in his eyes. Despite his own skill, the man realized he was facing a very deadly swordsman. The man circled, hesitating, until Gwaynn attacked again. The soldier blocked the onslaught with difficulty. He attempted a counter attack, but took a wound in the left shoulder for his foolhardy aggressiveness. He backed away from the young man before him, his mind insisting that the boy must be a Tar, whatever his age. Gwaynn attacked again, but again the soldier managed to turn it aside. This time however, he did not counter. He was entirely on the defensive, holding out hope that his comrades would somehow come to his aid. Gwaynn wasted no time however. He learned his lesson at the banks of Wren Lake and would not play with any enemy again. He attacked swiftly, sending blow after blow at the soldier and was finally able to slice through the soldier’s left hip. The man gasped in pain. He only let down his guard for an instant, but received a kali clean through his mid-section for his lapse in concentration.
Gwaynn and the soldier stood nearly cheek-to-cheek for a few seconds.
“Well fought,” Gwaynn whispered then jerked his kali free. The man fell to the ground with a soft groan and a gush of blood.
Gwaynn turned and found Gaston staring at him with awe, but beyond him the battle was still being fought. Krys dropped one soldier, Sath another, but Rue was struggling mightily, his face contorted with pain and anger.
“Move!” Gwaynn yelled, and this time Gaston jumped and spun around. Gwaynn started for the last soldier standing; the soldier engaged with Rue Hawser, but before he was even close an arrow appeared in the man’s back…dead center, fine shot. The wounded soldier instinctively reached for the arrow as Rue ran his sword into his belly. The man crumpled without a sound.
Gwaynn came to a stop, breathing heavily and watched as Rue fell to the ground near the body of Brace. Carmen came screaming from the house, followed by a stricken Olney and a relieved, though saddened Van Valencia.
Krys frowned and tested his injured leg gingerly as Gwaynn looked to Afton Sath. His old mentor was staring at him with a mixture of pride and utter shock. Brace was clearly dead, as was Turn Balny, the eldest of Sath’s company. Gwaynn’s heart sank; he’d liked them both. Brace was young and optimistic as only the young could be, and Turn had a playful side, which showed whenever there was a good-natured ribbing in need. Several other people had wounds, but as Gwaynn moved forward to check them, the hairs at the nape of his neck stood up and he spun quickly around at the sound of someone rushing up behind him. Samantha, only a few feet away now, was coming fast with a hard look in her eyes. She continued forward and jumped into his arms.
She hugged him close, squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I hope you kill them…I hope you kill them all.”
Gwaynn stood, shocked for a moment though he smiled inwardly. “You killed your share,” he answered softly then closed his eyes, thankful that while she was near she took the smell of death from the air.
ǂ
Zarina Monde opened her eyes and gazed up at Zarina Jess na Gall. At first she was confused, but then the memories of the attack reasserted themselves upon her mind.
‘They’re all dead,’ she thought, but relief swept through her when Jess came into focus once more. ‘Jess, young Jess, at least she’s alive!’
Monde came quickly awake and was surprised that she was lying in a bed, a clean bed, with crisp, cool sheets. She tried to sit, but a sharp pain shot through her left shoulder and she let out a hiss. She glanced at her wound and saw that it was bandaged tightly, the kali removed.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“Just since yesterday,” Jess said her voice soft, sultry and deep for one so young. Her voice had always been so. When she was a young girl it made the adults around her laugh to hear her voice, the voice of a sensual adult coming from such a beautiful and small girl-child.
“Yesterday!” Monde cried out with alarm, and despite the pain struggled to a sitting position.
“You fainted as Zanna removed the knife,” Jess explained. “She thought if best to give you a draught for the pain and to let you sleep.”
<
br /> Monde scowled. “The old fool,” she cried. “Did she think I just grew the knife in my back while on the King’s Island?”
“What did happen, Zarina?” Jess asked concerned, curiosity boiling over inside her.
“They’re dead Jess,” Monde answered, sobering slightly. “All of them, dead. Probably the High Zarina as well, but I did not see her body.”
“Dead!” Jess repeated her blue eyes wide and unbelieving.
“Yes,” Monde insisted. “I saw both Tar Crimpier and Nic le Austral myself just before I was ambushed. The Temple Knights were there…the High King knows of this plot…he must be behind this plot.”
“The High King,” Jess stammered, unable to comprehend the implications.
Monde moved to the edge of the bed. “Jess, we must rouse everyone. We must Travel. The King will come; his Knights will come. He’ll try to finish what he started.”
Just then Clare, a young nursemaid rushed in, she pulled up short when she spotted Zarina Monde sitting and alert.
“Zarinas,” Clare said excitedly. “The King has come to visit. Three triremes are moving into the harbor.”
“War triremes?” Monde asked impatiently and hopped to her feet, slightly disgusted to find that she was wearing nothing but the bandage on her shoulder.
“War…” Clare started then stopped. She was no more than thirteen and flustered to be addressed so by a Zarina.
“War triremes, war triremes!” Monde snapped. “Were they war ships?”
Clare shrugged, struggling to hold back tears. “I know not,” she answered and flinched as Monde waved her away.
“Find me something to wear, and have someone sound the warning bells,” Monde added and without a thought strode naked out of the room. She hurried into the main hall of the infirmary, shouting at nearly the top of her lungs. “This is no pleasure visit!”
Assassin of the Heart: Book Two: The Temple Islands Series Page 6
