“OK,” Tomescu replied. “But I don’t like it.”
“That means you’ll do what I say, right?” Astrid demanded.
Tomescu nodded, then turned back to a fallen log, where he sat looking morose.
Astrid reached the very edge of the forest path and squatted down with Vinnie beside her.
“What’s the plan?” Vinnie asked in a low voice.
They were at the edge of the village near the blacksmith shop. The place was set apart from the other houses, presumably because of the smoke and noise it produced.
“No patrols,” Astrid observed. “Weird.”
“Foolish,” Vinnie declared. “They’re cocky.”
“That means they’re in the houses,” Astrid reckoned. “Probably eating all the food they can lay their hands on.”
Astrid considered the situation for a minute. As she did, her eyes fell to the stone circle that made up the wellhead. “How much energy do you have left?” Astrid turned to Vinnie and asked.
“Enough for a good fight,” Vinnie replied.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Astrid replied.
She stood up, squared her broad shoulders and walked out into the village. “I think the direct approach is best. They want us? Let’s give them what they want. Let’s bring them all out so we can deal with them.”
“Well, OK,” Vinnie said. “This should be interesting.”
They had nearly reached the well when the sound of a door opening turned their heads. A large man in black armor and red insignia on the chest came out from the nearest hut with a clay mug in his hand.
Astrid cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me.” The man turned, startled by the unexpected voice. “Do you know where I can find Argan Village? I hear some fuckwits have taken it over and are looking for me.”
The man dropped the mug and began shouting immediately. More doors burst open, and soon, twenty soldiers were running towards Vinnie and Astrid.
“That’s a bit more than fifteen,” Astrid said as the soldiers formed two lines. “Have to talk with that boy about his counting skills.”
Vinnie just grinned and cracked his knuckles. He shrugged his shoulders, not as an expression but to loosen himself up. Astrid heard his spine crackle as he rolled his head around to limber up his neck.
The leader of the compliance crew stepped out in front if his men, who drew long knives and flanked him. “I am Compliance Officer Jank. You two are under arrest.”
That was the cue for one of the goons to bring out two pairs of iron manacles separated by a six-inch length of chain. The man approached, and the group of men surged forward to form a semicircle just six feet away.
Astrid caught sight of Vinnie’s shoulders twitching. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Follow my lead.”
Vinnie growled like a large animal and the low-frequency sound traveled through Astrid’s chest. The men closest to them felt it too, for they flinched back slightly.
Astrid held the backs of her wrists together and extended her arms. As soon as the first manacle touched her wrist, her eyes turned black. A surge of energy made her skin feel electric as she snatched the manacles up and lunge-kicked the man hard in the gut.
The would-be captor flew back, knocking down four of his fellow thugs. Vinnie crouched down with his eyes glowing like lava. The ground rippled like water around a dropped stone. The rest of the men tumbled to the ground.
Astrid had to jump nearly twice her height to keep from falling. She landed a split-second after the mini earthquake stopped.
Several of the men were on their feet again in a second. Astrid tore into them with the manacle, gripping the cuff like a handle. The iron, savage in her hand, nearly removed the face of someone who managed to nick her new armor with a dagger.
Three men rushed her with long knives. She took one out with a reverse foot sweep. Still spinning, she turned the motion into a reverse spin kick that snapped a man’s neck as she rose.
The third man, carrying two knives as well, decided to throw one of them. Astrid had just stopped her spin kick and had planted her foot when she saw the blade. She brought up her hand to block it, and the metal ran clear through her palm. Had she not stopped it, the blade would have gone into her heart.
“Nice throw,” Astrid said, pulling the blade from her palm. Her skin sizzled and glowed blue as the hole closed almost Instantly.
The triumphant look on the man’s face fell as he dropped back a few paces. Astrid advanced one step then two, by the third. She was charging her target. Anger-induced tunnel vision didn’t let her see two men who ran in from the side.
One of them tried to sink a dagger into her side, but she stopped short just in time. Instead, the blade grazed the thick leather.
Astrid planted her left foot, then swung around with her left fist. Her aim was slightly off. She was aiming for the jaw but ended up making contact with his forehead. She felt the bone give way under her knuckles. The man dropped to the ground and convulsed, then fell still forever.
She rounded on the other guy, but a huge body moved in so fast, she barely recognized it was Vinnie. His feet thundered as he crashed into the would-be attacker, sending him cartwheeling through the air.
The rest of the men had already run away. Between them, they’d killed half the men. The others were already on their horses and tearing out of the village.
Astrid let the energy leave her. The short fight didn’t take much from her.
Vinnie was a different story. After tunneling and creating an earthquake, he was panting and sweating. “That was fun,” he said, bending down with his hands on his knees.
“You OK there, big man?” Astrid inquired. She moved to touch him but thought better of it. His eyes were still glowing orange.
“I just need some food,” he said. “I really need sleep, but food will do for now. Food and drink.”
CHAPTER SIX
Welcome to Keep 52
It took four-and-a-half hours of walking to reach the keep. They’d made good time and practically ran the last mile or so. Vinnie scarfed mushrooms along the way from his hoard.
The path Tomescu led them on brought them to the east wall. To the south, the Toll Road was lit with oil lamps.
“It’s about ten o’clock,” Astrid noted. “There’s a lot of activity by the gates.”
“The keeps are always busy,” Tomescu said.
Vinnie looked around, then said, “I’ll double back, then come out on the Toll Road. You should see me over there.” He pointed to the road about fifty feet from the gates. “I’ll make sure to walk slow, so you can spot me.”
“What do you plan to do to distract them?” Astrid inquired.
“Vinnie stroked his long, pointed beard, I think I’ll use my best asset.”
“What’s that?” Astrid asked.
“Charm,” Vinnie said flatly. “There’s an ale house on the other side of the road. I’ll be in there.”
“Ale house,” Astrid said. “Of course.” She turned to Tomescu. “You use the toll road to get back. Hurry and be careful.”
“But I have no coin to pay the way,” Tomescu objected.
Vinnie tossed him some coins, then headed into the woods. A few minutes later, they saw him on the road and heard the reports of laughter as he worked his game.
Astrid took that as her signal. She crept out of the brush and inched her way along the wall until she reached the back. A smaller gate at the back wall faced the thick woods. There was no road. She guessed that was the auxiliary gate meant for escape.
She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. Letting the world come to her, she heard or felt no other presence but a few nocturnal animals. Feeling certain there were no guards on the opposite side of the wall, she tied one of her climbing hooks to her rope and set the coils on the ground.
The hook found purchase on the first throw. Astrid scaled the wall easily, reaching the fifteen-foot height barely winded. She perched there like an owl for a moment and looked do
wn into the keep.
No one was around. No guards patrolled the wide roads defined by various outbuildings. Most of the structures looked like warehouses. The only two guards she saw were way across the yard by the gate.
In the center of the keep, Astrid found what the walls were built to protect. An old-world building of sandstone stood perfectly preserved.
“Well, well,” Astrid said to herself. She closed her eyes again, centered herself, grabbed her grappling hook, and then jumped.
She hit the ground in a shoulder roll to take up the force of the impact her quick draw from the Well didn’t cover. Looking around to make sure nobody saw, she hurried to pull the rest of the rope over the wall. With the comforting coils over her shoulder again, she scurried from building to building.
She didn’t need the rope to climb up the corner where the stone formed inch-wide handholds. Her target was the only lit window in an office at the very top floor.
She pulled herself up on the ledge below the wide, leaded window and slowly inched up until her nose rested on the window sill. A gray-haired man sat with his back to her behind a large, grand desk of polished oak. She couldn’t tell if the desk was an old-world piece, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was.
That was a boss’s desk. She’d found who she was looking for.
She tested the window carefully, but it didn’t budge. She cursed under her breath, then pressed herself against the wall to shuffle down the ledge. Around the corner, there was another window, but it was to the man’s right. He would see her immediately if she tried going through that one.
Besides, if the first window was locked…
Who the hell locks a top-floor window? she thought as she shuffled again down the ledge. Finally, she found a suitable window that was ajar, leading to a hallway.
She pushed it open ever-so-gently until it it’s hinge squeaked. Cringing, she stopped and pushed her head through the gap. A guard stood with his back to her about a dozen feet away. He looked bored or even asleep on his feet as he leaned against the wall.
Astrid gave the window a final push and opened it just enough to slip through. On cat’s feet, she padded down the hallway, heart racing.
She loved this part.
The guard detected her at the last second, but it was too late. He spun around, and Astrid lunged, choking him out in seconds and lowering his doughy body to the ground.
“Nite-nite,” she said, patting him on the forehead. For good measure, she took his club and a large dagger that hung from his belt.
Straightening herself, she adjusted her rope and headed for the boss’s door. She pushed into the office like she owned the place.
To her surprise, the craggy-faced old man with the wiry frame gave a quick start. His eyes widened for a moment, then he carefully put down his fountain pen.
“You’ve made me blotch my ledger,” the man said, picking up an ink-stained square of cloth. He fussed at his paperwork, dabbing it with the cloth.
Astrid arched her eyebrows. “My apologies,” she said, stepping forward. “I have twenty coins to add to your books. It’s payment for my passage on your fine Toll Road.”
“You don’t pay here,” the man shot back, annoyance spicing his shrill voice. “Go downstairs and pay the clerk in the office by the gate.”
Astrid smiled and set the coins in a neat stack at the edge of the desk. “Are you refusing payment?”
Astrid almost returned the man’s smile. “In forty years on the job, I’ve never refused a payment when it was due. But I suspect you have something else to deliver, Astrid.”
She couldn’t hide her surprise. “You have me at a disadvantage, Mister… ” How did he know her name?
“Krann,” the man said, leaning back in his chair. He folded his long, narrow hands across his flat belly. “Commissioner Krann.”
“Well, Commissioner,” Astrid said. “Since you’re so sharp, I’ll get right to it. I’m here to report that one of your Assessors assaulted the Elder of Argan Village and took more than his share of tribute, such that the village may lose children over the winter.”
“Yes, yes, it’s all here in the reports,” Krann said impatiently. “I have a note to adjust my actuarial tables should we see losses.”
Astrid struggled to control her temper. “Then you are aware that one of your men assaulted an old woman and left a village to starve?”
“It happens sometimes. When a village underperforms, they get upset and need someone to blame. It’s unfortunate that, sometimes, the peasants take it out on our Assessors, whose job it is to keep this Protectorate funded. Sometimes the Assessors are forced to defend themselves. You’re new here, Astrid, so let me fill you in.”
The man rose and picked up a long, thin, wooden stick. He placed the stick under his arm and came around the desk with his arms folded behind his back.
“But first, let me ask you: what do you know about the ancients? I’m not talking about the new ancients. I mean the old civilizations like ancient Rome, Greece, the Chinese Dynasties, or Great Britain?”
Astrid was intrigued. This man was something else. She decided to play along a bit.
“I know they had no magic, but they were crafty,” Astrid replied.
“Indeed they were,” Krann said, pacing back and forth as he spoke. “Do you know what they all had in common?”
“Strong armies?” Astrid guessed, playing along in spite of herself.
“Wrong!” Krann barked, stopping in his tracks. He faced her with icy fire in his gray eyes. “Bureaucrats! That’s what they had. Bureaucrats and administrators!”
“The brutes with their weapons, the peasants shoveling shit to grow grain for bread—all of them meant nothing without people like me to count the resources and people like Pleth to gather up those resources for the rightful leaders to dispense according to the law. Believe it or not, like it or not, I—and people like me—form the backbone of this territory. Defy me, and you defy the law of the land itself. I stand for law and order!”
What a twisted fuckhole, Astrid thought.
“Well,” Astrid replied. “That was a very informative lecture. Thank you. Political theory aside, consider yourself defied. The Village of Argan will pay its rightful share to this Protectorate, but not if it means children will starve.—
“This territory has a Protector? Fine. Argan now has me to protect it.”
“I will be on hand to make sure your men will harm no one. And if they try, I will do far worse to them than I did to your petty thugs on the Toll Road.”
“We will see about that,” Krann said with a toothy smile.
He was fast. If Astrid hadn’t been watching his chest for signs of motion, he would have hit her square across the face with that stick. She ducked the whistling piece of wood. When she came back up, Krann was coming around again for another strike. She blocked it easily and wrapped his arm with hers in a leverage hold.
Krann froze, but not from fear. He wasn’t angry, either. He just knew he was done. Astrid found his coldness disturbing and hoped he couldn’t see that she was unsettled.
“You have my respect, Commissioner Krann,” Astrid growled. “I am a woman of her word, just like I said in the note I left with Pleth.”
Krann’s eyes widened for an instant. That’s how Astrid knew Pleth didn’t give him the note. Why Krann didn’t question her on it, she had no idea. It was only clear that Pleth kept the informative piece of parchment from him.
She kept his arm locked in hers, then dragged him out in front of his desk. Killing this asshole seemed like a very good idea.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Keep 52 Ale House, Lungu Protectorate
“What in the new world is this!” Assessor Clive exclaimed as he climbed down from his wagon.
“It is your guilty conscience,” Vinnie said, arms wide and smiling. “Are you always working? You should be home with that beautiful wife of yours.”
As he beamed a fake smile at the Assessor, he tried to calcul
ate the time Astrid would need to get over the wall and into the admin building. He had only left her just a few seconds before, so he had a relatively good idea how long he would need to stall.
“Ha!” Clive said. “I should be, but Dariel village had an excellent harvest. It took two loads to bring in their tribute percentage.”
“How are the kids?” Vinnie asked, laying it on thick to keep things moving.
“Both are fine, just fine,” Clive replied. “I had my housekeeper make them that pork recipe you told me about. They are eating it tonight, but here I am. The meat is from Blue Creek—they raise the best pigs. I’ll probably have to stay the night in the keep bunkhouse.”
“Oh, such a shame,” Vinnie said, draping his arm around Clive’s shoulder. “I guess you’ll just have to suffer through a few drinks at the ale house, too?”
“I really shouldn’t,” Clive said with a fake look of remorse on his face. “Oh, I guess just one. I won’t play cards with you again, though. Not after last time.”
The two men ambled over to the drinking place. Vinnie cast a glance over his shoulder back to the woods where he knew Astrid was watching. He was concerned for her in spite of a skill set he had never seen before. The woman was growing on him. She had earned a fierce loyalty from him in just a few days.
“Vinnie!” The bartender called as soon as he saw the big man trundle through the door. “I made that temperature adjustment in my fermentation room. This is the best ale yet.” He pulled a lever and filled a huge mug with frothy, golden brew.
Vinnie took half the mug in three long pulls. Wiping his mustache, he said. “I am just a humble man of thought and reason,” Vinnie said. “You are the artist. This is the best brew I’ve had in ages.”
The bartender laughed and poured another mug. Vinnie produced a coin pouch and tossed it on the bar.
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