Garm let out a sigh. “Right to the point, huh? Honestly, I don’t know how many. Not anymore. I used to, ah, keep track. But, I stopped doing that awhile ago. That’s not exactly what you want to know, though, is it? You want me to tell you about my first kill. All I’ll tell you is this. Your first time, well, that is going to stay with you. It will be the point in your life everything follows, if that makes sense.”
Toma nodded slowly. “Yeah, I definitely understand that part already.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” Garm offered, “it is like a trade or a skill. Killing, I mean. It gets easier, the more you do it.” The pained expression on Toma’s face told Garm that he wasn’t helping. By the Hells, he thought. Did this kid join up without anticipating violence and death? What did he think the point of the Legions was? And why of all people would he ask someone like himself? He’d do better asking a fisherman if he felt guilt throwing his net out.
“Look Toma, the only good advice I can give you on it is what they tried to give me at the university. And that is: make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. And so far, you have. You saved our lives that night. Four died so that six could live. It’s a terrible thing to reduce lives down to sums, but you saved the lives of six good men. Including the commander and myself. And that jackass Ryker, but I won’t hold that against you.”
Toma smiled slightly at that. “Thanks Garm. I knew that eventually it’d come down to me or someone else, but it wasn’t anything like I thought it would be.”
Garm smiled sadly.
“It never is.”
Suddenly, a loud whoosh sound hit their ears. They quickly exchanged a look of understanding, drew their blades, and rushed around the corner.
As they ran, they saw that the barn had been transformed into a raging inferno in only a few seconds. The heat coming off of it made the two men stagger backwards, and they were still thirty feet from the blaze. The thatched roof of the barn was completely wreathed in orange flame, and smaller fires were burning their way through the walls. The front of the barn, where Johan and Leonid had entered, was blocked with two unhitched carts, both spouting flames.
“Planes! The Commander is in there!” Toma shouted.
“I know! We need to—shit, look!” Garm interrupted himself and pointed just past the fire. Three black figures were running away from the barn, their familiar black outfits quickly melting into the dusk. Garm made ready to chase them when Toma grabbed his arm.
“No! We need to get in there!”
The kid was right, Garm knew. They both looked around, frantic. There were three long horse troughs along the side of the barracks, each filled with water. But they could find no buckets. Now they could hear the sounds of the horses trapped inside, neighing in terror as the flames intensified. But they heard no sound from either the Commander or the Weaver. Garm felt the wind begin to push against his back, the force quickly intensifying. Toma felt it too. It was as if the air itself was being sucked towards the flaming barn. The two Outriders soon had to brace themselves to keep from being knocked forward by the wind. An instant later, there was a tremendous pop and they were knocked backwards from the air reversing course.
When Garm got to his feet, his jaw dropped. Where there were towering flames a second ago there now were spires of clear ice. The two carts were encased in solid ice, and were knocked forward ten feet. The walls of the barn had icy veins running along them where the flames had once been. And like a cold winter’s day, it was eerily quiet. Even the horses had gone silent.
“Garm! Toma!” they heard a voice snarl from inside.
“Commander!” they both shouted in unison, and they rushed inside the barn.
When they cleared the fallen carts, they could see Leonid, looking unhurt, doing his best to prop up Johan, who was barely able to stand under his own power. Garm saw that the two men were standing in the center of a circle marked with rapidly fading runes. Johan was quickly losing his battle in staying upright, despite the rotund Weaver’s efforts.
“Quick, help me!” Leonid shouted.
Garm quickly ran to Johan’s other side and draped a large, meaty arm around his shoulders. He and Leonid were able to move Johan outside. As Toma looked on, he noticed that the house and the carts were not the only things frozen. Six horses that had been in their stalls were also encased in ice. The sides of the horses facing the circle Leonid had created were smooth, but the other sides of them were jagged, as if a crashing wave had been flash frozen.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” panted Johan, as they set him down. His breath was wheezy and labored, but aside from looking pale, he seemed to be unhurt.
“What happened, sir?” Garm asked.
“Well it was a trap, obviously,” Johan said in between pants. “A…man was in there waiting for us. He was wearing a plain black hooded robe, and I couldn’t see his face. As soon as we got in there, I asked if he was Nerthus. He nodded and told us he had been waiting for us and was glad we had made it. Then two carts were pushed in front of the door to block us, and the man in front of us just…exploded into flame. I can’t explain it. It was almost as if the flame was alive. It tore through the walls and shot straight at us. If Leonid wasn’t there, we would have been incinerated.”
Leonid nodded. “It was a rather potent trap, I must say. Almost knocked the wind right out of me. Afraid the concussion wave hit before I was able to throw a circle down, hence your Commander’s state and the delay in stopping the fire.” He gestured with one hand at the barn behind him. The ice was already melting fast, Garm saw.
“Well,” Leonid continued, “now we know that we are on the right track. And that whoever is after us certainly has some experience. And they were able to find the name of our contact here, somehow.”
“Maybe there is one good thing we can take away from this,” Johan said. “They can’t seem to strike at us directly. Both times they had to use subterfuge.” He looked at Toma and grinned. “And we already know that in a straight fight, one of us is worth four of them.” He got to his feet. “Okay gentlemen, I’d say this meeting was a dead end. Let’s get out of here before we have to answer any questions. There’s a butcher who I think I really want to talk to right now.” Johan blew out a long breath.
“And let’s be quick about it, before my nerves catch up with what just happened and I pass out.”
Garm and Toma went in first. Nothing Johan could say would dissuade his men from protecting him this time. Johan followed with Leonid, who seemed a little tired.
“Are you going to be okay?” Johan asked the Weaver.
“Just get me some good food and drink and I’ll be right as rain,” came Leonid’s reply. Johan turned to look at him. He looked different, Johan thought. He looked almost…thinner. His signature triple chin seemed to be almost a double now.
His musings ended as the two men entered Chops’ Chop Shop, a small butchers shop close to where Johan met her earlier. Johan walked in to see Chops standing behind a meat counter, Garm and Toma opposite her, both of them having drawn their swords. Garm’s was pointed at Chops’ chest.
“Well, you certainly took your sweet time getting here,” Chops said, her elfin smile on her face. Her smile was rather incongruous with the grim situation she found herself in. “Your friend there looks like he hasn’t missed a meal in a long time. I hope he isn’t about to start.”
The shop smelled like countless varieties of meats blended together with cooking spices. Johan’s mouth began to water, and Leonid’s face lit up immediately. He moved with speed toward a spit of mutton roasting over a small open cook fire. Seizing the spit, heedless of the heat, he pulled the meat off of it and shoved it all into his mouth, juices running down his chin and onto his tunic.
“My apologies, you can bill me after,” he said, his words barely distinguishable with all the food in his mouth.
Johan, too tired and hungry to play around anymore, stood next to Garm and pushed the man’s sword tip away from Chops. He look
ed at the still smiling butcher with weary eyes.
“Okay Chops, I almost got blown up a few minutes ago, so I don’t really have any more friendly banter in me anymore. Just give me some information and we’ll be done with each other, okay?”
The young woman looked at him, her eyes narrowed in puzzlement.
“Uhhh, okay? Look, this is the strangest robbery ever.” There was no fear in her voice, only playful annoyance. “You aren’t here for my money? My body? What then? Are you new at this? Fatty there can eat as much as he wants, just don’t wreck up my place, please. I hate cleaning. Ever try and swing a broom one-handed?”
Johan sighed. “Just tell me why someone claiming to be named Nerthus just blew up the Legion’s stable trying to kill us.”
The change in her face was immediate, like a curtain pulled away from a window. Gone was the cute, befuddled butcher girl’s face. It was replaced with a stern, frowning woman’s face, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“What did you just say? They used my name?”
The change in visage and tone of voice was so sudden, the Outriders almost took a step backward. Even Leonid paused mid-bite at this transformation.
“So you’re Nerthus?” Johan asked warily.
“Of course I am,” she snapped, her pretty face twisted into a rather menacing scowl. “I figured you knew that. Why the hell else would I drop those hints to you? Start over, what exactly happened.”
Johan ran a dirty hand over his face in frustration. The iron in her voice surprised him. He looked back at Leonid, who shrugged, grease still covering his face as he resumed eating. To the hells with it, Johan thought, let’s see where this gets us.
He told Chops—Nerthus, rather, everything they had done since departing The City. The assassination attempt, the strange animal attacks in Oberon, and the subterfuge at the stables. The longer he spoke, the deeper the scowl on her face became. It was, he would later remark, like watching a white, fluffy cloud transform into a black thunderhead. She stormed out from behind the counter and slammed the front door of her shop shut. She manipulated a lever next to the door. The sound of gears grinding together, like a giant clock, could be heard. Then metal plates slid down over every window and the front door, plunging the store into darkness, offset only by the light of the cooking fire.
“Come on,” she growled, walking past them into the back room. “Let’s discuss our business in a safer location.”
She led them to a back room that doubled as her bedroom. A round table dominated the cramped space, with a bedroll along one wall. There were some cluttered shelves, mostly filled with unwashed plates and cups. A small chest sat at the foot of her bedroll. She walked around the table and faced the Outriders, leaning on the table with her one arm.
“There’s no use in discussing what we don’t know for sure. All we know is that the mission is somehow compromised. The how and why of that isn’t important to us…at this point. We need to focus on accomplishing our task. The fact that these unknown assailants have taken two shots at you means that this is a much more important matter than we thought. We should assume that the other two Outrider groups have also been targeted.” She stopped abruptly, as if hit by inspiration. She looked at Leonid, her gaze intense.
“You, Weaver. Have you made contact with the other Weavers with the Outriders outside the forest yet? Have they been hit yet?”
The three Outriders turned as one to stare at the big man. This was the first they heard of this. Leonid maintained his composure under everyone’s scrutiny, but made a small coughing sound before speaking.
“If we are going for full disclosure, miss, then you may not like the whole picture. I am the only Weaver attached to this little operation. Our group was tasked with locating and transporting the stolen artifacts. The other two Outrider groups are merely to contain the bandits from fleeing north or south of us while we move in, providing direct support only if we need it. However, as I’ve informed the commander here, there is some question back at the Citadel as to the…loyalty of the other two Outrider groups. My secondary task I’ve been assigned is to evaluate the other Outriders if possible, and terminate them if they have become rogue.”
Toma and Garm both looked stunned. Johan and Ryker had not yet told the men that specific part of Leonid’s assignment. They had planned on doing so, of course. But they were afraid of telling them so soon after the night attack, fearing that it would impede their focus even further. Looking at their reactions now, Johan realized that he made a mistake holding it back. Nerthus, however, did not look at all surprised.
“That goes a long way in explaining why the others haven’t tried to make contact with me. And, I suppose I should just say it outright. Rogue Outriders are becoming more and more common.” She paused. “No offense, boys,” she added hastily, “I’m sure you’re all fine and loyal. Fatty here proves that. Now, there have been reports of men who appear to be Outriders on the outskirts of the forest for the past three days, but none of them have entered Oberon until you showed up.” She walked over to a shelf and pulled a bottle off of it, and then gestured at Garm. Looking behind him, he saw a number of grimy-looking clay cups. He placed five on the table, and Nerthus poured a potent smelling clear alcohol into them. She resumed talking as they sipped the grain alcohol.
“Well, with all that unpleasant news out of the way, I do have some good news to share, surprisingly. I think I know where the bandits are located. Yesterday, going off of what I heard from some Lancers back from patrol, I searched a few miles east of here. I found a small group of men that closely matches who we are looking for.”
“How many are there,” Johan asked, leaning on the table as well.
“Only three. I observed them for a few hours, and no one else came or went. The information I was sent on them was spotty at best. I don’t know if it was just these three who performed the raid in Melcara or if there were more. I don’t even know how they did it, for that matter.” She took a swig from her cup. “Which sucks because I would enjoy speaking to some professionals for once.”
Johan winced at the implied insult, but didn’t say anything about it.
“Were you able to see what it is we are supposed to be recovering?”
“No,” she said, the disappointment evident in her voice. “However, their camp was very small. Whatever it is they took is small, able to be packed in a saddlebag or travel pack. One of them might even have it on their person. Also, from what I could overhear, it sounds like they are waiting for someone to meet them. A buyer I think. I think they were hired to steal something specific, rather than finding something valuable by chance. Which could be a bad thing, as it means they are specialists with training as opposed to some vagabonds who got lucky.”
“Maybe they are,” said Garm, “but I’ll take our odds.”
Johan nodded. “I agree. There’s five of us, plus our jolly friend here. Six on three is a pretty decisive advantage.”
“Seven on three,” Nerthus corrected. “I’m going with you. Helping to secure the cargo and get it back to The City is part of my job here.”
Garm nodded at her missing arm. “You’re not going to be much use to us if it comes to a fight.”
Nerthus smiled at him, showing her teeth. “You’ll be surprised.”
“I wonder,” ventured Toma, “if those three you saw are the same three Garm and I saw fleeing the ambush at the barn? If not, that means we have six to worry about. And they have tricks up their sleeves.”
“Not to worry, my young man,” Leonid said, “they threw quite a bit of power at us today, and it still didn’t come close to being enough. Now that I have some measure of what they can do, I am much more confident about our chances.”
Toma looked unconvinced at this, but he cracked a smile and shook his head at the Weaver as the fat man began noisily eating more mutton.
Johan cleared his throat. “Okay, here’s the plan. We go gather up the rest of the team, and head out immediately.” He looked at Ner
thus. “Can you get us there tonight?”
Nerthus shook her head. “I don’t recommend it. We can’t use any light, or else they’d see us coming. And you lot aren’t exactly forest rangers, so they’d probably hear us coming long before they saw our light.” She made an exaggerated sniffing sound with her nose. “Smell you coming even before that, I wager.”
Johan frowned at this, but he couldn’t argue. “Do you have any way of keeping an eye on the bandits over night?”
She feigned hurt pride. “Please. I have three people watching them now. And I have a few more trusted eyes and ears between the camp and the forest edge. Any sign of movement and we’ll know quickly.”
“Okay, good,” Johan nodded. “At first light, meet us at the Wooden Ladle. We’ll hit them as soon as possible. And if you get a runner tonight, we move no matter what. Agreed?”
The agent nodded. “Agreed.”
“Alright then. But before we head back to the tavern,” he paused for a second, smiling, “I believe you were telling me earlier about some crab meat and salmon I can take back with me?”
The three other Outriders filed out of the room, most of them carrying food out with them. Johan and Ryker remained behind, each sitting on his own bed. Ryker had a crab leg in each hand, and spoke between bites.
“Well, I’ll say this for our little one-armed spy, she knows food.”
“That she does,” said Johan. He lay down on his bed, a piece of skewered mutton in his own hands.
“Is she cute?”
“What?”
“Nerthus. Is she good looking?”
“Planes, Ryker,” Johan chuckled, “you really DO have a one track mind.”
“I notice you are expertly dodging my question.”
Johan sighed. “Yeah, she’s good looking. She’s the complete package actually, aside from the whole missing arm, stench like a butcher block, temperament of a bear thing she’s got going for her. Shit, I can already tell she’s going to love working with you.”
The Outrider Legion: Book One Page 11
