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Devil's Night Dawning: The First Book of the Broken Stone Series

Page 75

by Damien Black


  A merry zigzag, Hettie thought disconsolately. But she kept her opinion to herself.

  The journey out of the hill-lands took them longer than expected, for they had to make several detours and became lost more than once. It was approaching dusk on the day after they had looked at the map when they decided to make camp again for the night. At least there was little chance of Balthor and his men finding them in the middle of this blasted wilderness, Adhelina reflected.

  Twilight was filtering through the branches of a few ragged trees in the dell they had chosen when the sound of cracking twigs alerted them to fresh danger. Looking up the three wayfarers saw four raggedly dressed men descending the hills towards them. They carried rude axes and rusty swords. It was clear by the looks on their faces that they did not mean well.

  ‘Greetings strangers,’ said the outlander in an unruffled voice, rising slowly from the fire he had been busy preparing. ‘May we be of any assistance?’ His hand moved lightly to the hilt of his sword.

  The biggest of the men, a greasy unkempt fellow of middling height and more than middling girth, sneered, revealing teeth that were blackened and rotted.

  ‘Strangers?’ he replied in a voice that was surprisingly soft. ‘I don’t think we’re the strangers...! You’re on our territory, y’see, and there’s a fine to pay... those ladies look ever so pretty, and ever so rich...’

  The four men edged closer, moving down into the dell, sickly grins on their dirt-streaked faces.

  ‘Why of course,’ replied the outlander affably. ‘If you’ll just let me get you something...’

  He reached down towards his bag. At that moment the four outlaws charged with a single yell. In the flash of an eye the outlander came up fast, drawing his dirk from his boot and sending it cartwheeling through the air to impale the lead brigand through the throat. The other three closed on him.

  Stepping back he drew his falchion with blinding speed, parrying the first clumsy stroke and slaying another outlaw with a lightning riposte, trailing an arc of blood through the gloaming as he opened his jugular.

  The remaining two pressed him hard, but the foreigner moved with astonishing swiftness, dancing and whirling around and between them. When he cut down another brigand in a shower of red the last turned and began to run back up the dell. Without hesitation the mercenary reached for his bow, and nocking a shaft he loosed. The last outlaw fell with a scream, the arrow lodged in his back.

  He wasn’t quite dead. Adhelina winced at the sight of him trying to claw his way up out of the dell, groaning pitifully all the while. Calmly walking over to the dead leader and pulling the dirk from his throat, the outlander scrambled up the hill and grasped the final brigand’s head by his mop of lank hair.

  The outlaw made a last desperate attempt to save himself, reaching around frantically and clutching at the mercenary’s hood. Without respite the outlander pushed his knee into the brigand’s injured back, forcing him down before cutting his throat from ear to ear.

  As the last outlaw choked to death on his own blood, their saviour hopped lightly back down into the middle of the dell, where the two damsels were staring aghast. The whole fight had taken less than a minute.

  Perhaps the thrill of battle had temporarily robbed the freesword of caution, for he had apparently forgotten about his hood, pulled back by the desperate strength of a dying man. The twilight showed a face that was ugly and rude, crowned by short tufts of hair cropped irregularly, with keen eyes and tanned skin. A face that was unmistakeably female.

  ‘But... you’re a woman!’ gasped Hettie, completely forgetting the slaughter she had just witnessed.

  ‘It would certainly appear so,’ replied the outlander with a wry smile, sitting down to clean her weapons.

  Adhelina was staring at her benefactress incredulously. ‘But, no woman can fight like that! It doesn’t make sense!’

  ‘Where I come from, only the women fight,’ said the swordswoman dismissively as she began to clean her dirk. ‘And I can assure you they fight a lot better than yon brigands did.’

  Adhelina gasped as her copious reading provided her with the answer to another riddle.

  ‘You belong to the fabled tribe of Harijans that dwell across the Great Inland Sea!’ she exclaimed. ‘Where women fight and rule as men do!’

  ‘No, not as men do,’ corrected the woman warrior, spitting contemptuously as she finished cleaning her blade. ‘We fight and rule better than men do. Men are good for only a few things,’ she added with a wolfish grin that Hettie found disturbing. ‘We keep some of them as thralls, to serve us as menials and provide us with children – and satisfaction to those of us who are too weak to live without such pleasures of the flesh. When we are done with them we cut their throats, just as I did with yonder brigand.’

  ‘How barbaric and awful!’ exclaimed Adhelina in disgust.

  ‘Oh really?’ replied the Harijan, fixing her with keen black eyes. ‘And is it not the same but in reverse in these lands? The Imperial folk are a little better than your people in this regard, but since I am in this country I have been sickened by what I see. You women should fight – then perhaps your menfolk would have a reckoning on their hands!’

  ‘But how can we fight when men have all the power?’ demanded Adhelina angrily. ‘Why, all my life I’ve been cossetted, aye even though I am a woman noble born! It took all our ingenuity just to escape the castle I’d grown up in - ’

  Adhelina stopped dead as she realised what she had just said.

  The Harijan was watching her keenly now. ‘Yes, go on – do not stop. I think it is time you told me more of yourself. After all, today you have learned more of me.’

  Adhelina blushed and looked at Hettie uncertainly. She’d get no help there – her oldest friend was dumbstruck. Struggling to control her rising rage, the runaway heiress of Dulsinor cursed herself inwardly.

  She stood like that for a while, clenching and unclenching her hands, forcing herself to calm down. The Harijan sheathed her dirk and picked up her bloody falchion to clean. She glanced up at the damsels expectantly as she ran a crimson cloth up and down the curved blade.

  Taking a deep breath Adhelina sat down on another rock near the Harijan. Hettie followed suit.

  ‘If I tell you my name, and that of my companion, may we at least know yours?’ she asked, trying to sound charming.

  A smile creased the Harijan’s ugly brown face. Her skin was like the boiled leather she wore for armour. ‘Of course. It is Anupe. At your service.’ She returned to cleaning her falchion.

  Adhelina told her their story whilst Hettie busied herself making the fire, keeping a watchful eye on Anupe all the time. She held back the details of her wealth.

  When she had finished, Anupe sat back, stretched out her wiry arms, and whistled.

  ‘Well! That is a fine tale to hear in this country, and no mistake! Perhaps I was wrong to dismiss the courage of the women of the Vorstlendings, for it is clear that you have taken a risk in making a bid for your precious freedom! And so you plan to take ship from Meerborg for the Empire and set yourself up there – but I hope these riches you speak of are enough, less my reward of course. Life in the imperial cities is expensive, I can assure you!’

  ‘Yes well, as to your reward doubt it not,’ said Adhelina guiltily. ‘But as for my own fortunes, I have skills I can rely on should my coin dwindle.’

  ‘Oh really?’ inquired Anupe. ‘And what skills would a pampered noblewoman of the so-called Free Kingdoms have to offer a civilised folk such as the Imperials, I wonder?’

  ‘I am an accomplished healer,’ replied Adhelina proudly. ‘And my book-learning surpasses most of my countrymen.’

  ‘As to the latter, that will help you little in the Imperial lands,’ replied the Harijan. ‘For all well-born folk there are taught the strange symbols of knowledge. But as a healer, if you are as good as you say you are, you might find a living of sorts... and from the story of your escape it seems you have knowledge of other herbs?�


  Adhelina flushed, feeling guilty again.

  ‘Well, yes, I know how to prepare all sorts of poultices and concoctions – not all of them benign to tell the truth.’

  ‘Benign?’

  ‘For the good.’

  ‘Ah, you speak of poisons! Then in that case rest assured you shall have work aplenty in the Empire! Your future is secure, if only you can get there!’

  Adhelina swallowed nervously. She did not care much for Anupe’s gallows humour, especially given it seemed to carry a grain of truth. But a more pressing matter was on her mind. Screwing up her courage she voiced it.

  ‘So... knowing what you know and who pursues us – you’ll still help us?’

  Anupe took a deep breath as she mulled this over. The stars were appearing in the clear night sky. Adhelina tried to focus on those and the warmth of the fire she had lit, ignoring the corpses around them. She had seen enough dead men in her father’s last war not to be traumatised, though the prospect of bedding down for the night with the dead was unpleasant.

  ‘That depends,’ said Anupe, answering her question at last. ‘If you are concerned that your story makes me afraid to help, don’t worry! For Anupe is never afraid of men! In fact, if anything it makes me wish to help you even more – the pair of you are the closest to brave women I have yet met in this accursed country! But there still remains the matter of my reward, for I too wish to go to the Empire.’

  That surprised Adhelina. ‘Really? Then why did you leave it in the first place?’

  Anupe sighed. ‘My tale is a long one, much longer than yours, and it is getting too late to tell it all. Enough for now to say that I have spent years wandering far from my homeland, which I did not leave willingly. I spent some of those years in service with the Imperial Legions, which sometimes take in Harijan recruits such as myself. But certain complications arose... and I thought it best to leave the Empire for a while.’

  She scowled, spitting into the fire as if for emphasis. Adhelina tried not to show how appalled she was by the Harijan’s lack of civilised manners. Oblivious to her aristocratic sensibilities, Anupe continued: ‘So I took ship to Meerborg nearly a year ago. I had hoped to find work as a freesword in this land, but here they dislike women who fight even more than the Imperials do! This is why I have been obliged to wear a hood – quite ridiculous! Yet the only way I can get any work is by hiding my true sex – I, a proud member of the Harijan race, lowered to this!’

  Her eyes flared angrily. She had seen the Harijan knock three men senseless and kill four more in the space of a few days, but this was the first time Adhelina had seen her genuinely angry.

  ‘No,’ she continued. ‘I have had enough of this place. I want to buy passage on a merchant ship back to the Twin Cities, the great trading ports of the northern imperial lands. I will take my chances in the Empire again. Who knows? Perhaps I will even make the long journey home, though I doubt my people will accept me now.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Adhelina. There was a sadness in Anupe’s voice now. In spite of the immense difference between them Adhelina felt a growing empathy for the embattled Harijan.

  ‘Because,’ sighed Anupe, ‘my people believe that once a Harijan has been taken into captivity, she is tainted by the customs of men. We are a fiercely independent folk, and we guard that independence jealously.’

  ‘I see.’ Adhelina felt as though she understood, but wasn’t sure she really did.

  ‘But at least back in the Empire I have some chance of a life,’ Anupe continued. ‘So... that brings us back to the question of my reward. The more money I have to take with me, the better my chances are.’

  ‘You will have your reward, as I have said, once we get to Meerborg.’

  ‘Mmm, yes, so you have said. But one thing concerns me – this money of yours, is it not your father’s in truth? And I presume even now his knights – this Balthor you spoke of – will be at Meerborg. Will he not force whatever merchant you have entrusted your valuables to there to hand them over?’

  Adhelina had to think fast. ‘The valuables I speak of were secreted away a fortnight ago,’ she dissembled nervously. ‘I managed to have Hettie here bribe a passing merchant into taking them with him back to Meerborg, to keep them there under lock and key. The merchant does not know my true identity – he is under strict instructions not to release them to anyone but Hettie, who gave him a false name. He will of course know her, and only her, by sight. So you see there is absolutely no connection between my name and the valuables in question.’

  Hettie gulped nervously as her mistress spun her elegant web of lies. She really didn’t like being embroiled in them, especially not without being told first. Anupe frowned as she considered their story.

  As she waited nervously for the Harijan to reply, Hettie could not help thinking that the lie probably would have been a good idea in reality – travelling incognito with all her mistress’s worldly goods on her person now seemed like the height of foolishness. But then if everyone thought as well on the spot as they did in hindsight there’d be no need for wise men or seers, she supposed.

  ‘Very well,’ said Anupe at last. ‘I am content on this point, and I am trusting your word that my reward will be a good one – for if not, know that your father’s men will seem like nothing next to my anger!’

  She put a calloused brown hand meaningfully on the hilt of her falchion. Hettie was about to protest but Adhelina waved her back.

  ‘Rest assured your reward when we get to Meerborg will be more than ample,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Very good,’ said Anupe nodding. ‘That just leaves one final problem. How we get into Meerborg.’

  The two damsels looked at her nonplussed. ‘But, we’ve already taken care of that,’ said Adhelina. ‘We take the east road and - ’

  Anupe laughed and shook her head. ‘Are you so blind to what is in front of you?’ she asked. ‘You have just said yourselves that this Balthor and his men will be riding into Meerborg even now. Oh, he may not be able to find your hidden treasure, but he can certainly pay a visit to the merchant houses and tell them to be on the lookout for a runaway bride and her servant! The merchant houses rule Meerborg – that might not affect your treasure if you have concealed your identities as well as you say, but it will make it difficult for you to get into the city…’

  Adhelina and Hettie exchanged pained looks. They had tried so hard to be cunning in planning their escape, but it was rapidly becoming clear that they were out of their depth.

  ‘But, surely if we ride hard the next few days, we can reach the city and slip in?’ offered Hettie, doing her best to sound optimistic.

  Adhelina shook her head. ‘No, no, Anupe’s right – it’s too risky,’ she said. ‘All the guards will be alerted by the time we reach Meerborg. They’ll probably be expecting us to enter by the south gate, but they’ll just as likely notify the guards on the other gates too. Dammit! What do we do now?’

  ‘It is indeed a problem to consider,’ replied the Harijan laconically.

  They sat in sullen silence for a while. The night cold drew in. The fire continued to crackle. The dead men stayed dead.

  Then Adhelina looked up, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.

  ‘There’s one way they won’t think to check,’ she said firmly. ‘And even if they did they probably wouldn’t be able to do it effectively.’

  ‘We are – how do you say? – all ears,’ said Anupe.

  ‘We take ship to Meerborg,’ Adhelina replied. ‘It’s the last thing they’ll expect! We arrive there via the docks, transact our business as quickly as we can, and then take another ship bound for the Empire! Think on it – Meerborg’s harbour is said to be busy night and day, it would be so much easier for us to slip in unnoticed!’

  Anupe nodded slowly, considering this. ‘Yes, yes,’ she said presently. ‘I have seen the docks there many times – what you say is true enough. But from where do we sail to Meerborg?’

  Adhelina scrabbled around in he
r bag for her map, drawing it out and holding it to the light.

  ‘There’s a fishing village up here,’ she began, pointing to a place marked about twenty miles up the coast from the Free City.

  Anupe shook her head. ‘No, that will never do,’ she said. ‘A fishing village would not have the boats to take us, never mind our horses. And their small vessels would not be fit for such a voyage in any case.’

  ‘Then what?’ Adhelina bit her lip as she scoured the map, following the north-westerly coastline of the country she was trying to flee.

  ‘We need to widen our detour,’ she said finally. ‘The nearest port that services Meerborg lies across the border, in Northalde – we need to get to Port Urring, and double back by sea from there.’

  Anupe raised a raven eyebrow. ‘You want to go to Northalde? You do know there is a war going on there, don’t you? The last I heard, trade between Meerborg and Strongholm had all but ceased.’

  ‘Strongholm and Meerborg yes,’ pressed Adhelina. ‘But not necessarily Urring – it’s located in the south, where the secessionist rebels are based, if I remember rightly. At least we have some chance – and if the Northlendings are too busy fighting a war against each other, then all the less chance that they’ll take any notice of a runaway noblewoman from Vorstlund.’

  Anupe laughed again, though this time there was less of a sneer to her laughter. ‘Hah, you may not fight like a warrior, but you certainly think like one, Adhelina of Dulsinor!’ she chuckled. ‘Well then, that is settled – Meerborg by way of Urring! So it seems I am destined to see one more “free” kingdom before I return to the Empire! I trust that my reward will be increased to allow for the extra time spent protecting you.’

  Adhelina sighed. ‘The reward will be everything you could want it to be,’ she answered. ‘You have my word and my life on it.’

  Hettie listened to this exchange in silence. And she didn’t like what she heard.

  ‘My lady?’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Yes, what is it?’ asked her mistress, somewhat impatiently.

 

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