Head down toward Tanner Lane. I can smell it from a mile off—not a job for me. Best thing about Tanner Lane is that it connects to Wall Boulevard, which skirts the wall! So imaginative. If I survive tonight, I will say something to the Count about these roads. Something has to be done. Why not name them after famous Charters or, for Jenell’s sake, his family or something?
Over these last few months, Wall Boulevard has been great. Nothing to block you, but not many people are looking this way because, firstly, it is peacetime, and secondly, it is the other side of the wall that people care about.
This is strange; there are no lights on. Not one. I can hear the clock tower tenth bell on the edge of my hearing; two hours before the witching hour. Strange, but this is good. With the cloth and coal dust, it should be hard for people to see me. What was that? My lucky day, someone is coming this way. Well, that smells worse than the tanners—smells like Jimmy and a few unwashed sods. Look at that, I was right, and they have lanterns as well. Really smart fellows, I can see a lot with those lights. I can sneak past them real quick. First, I should listen to see if I can figure out what they are here for. I did not think this was their area.
“Okay, lads, keep an eye out for anyone comin’ and goin’ here. Malik wants us to take anyone else out.” Oh, fantastic, there are ten of them. If they have the upper hand, I can kiss my arse goodbye. Hang on—the Rejects! I know these Boys; they are not skilled, but if they try to jump the Rejects coming out, that’s it for my squad. I am going to make sure they know I am saving their collective skins!
“Keep to the shadows, lads. Remember, boss-man will kill you if you screw up!”
There goes Jimmy. Still has not turned off the lantern. Good, the Boys are drinking. If Jimmy sees that he will have their heads, then they will be too distracted to chase us. Maybe this is as good an escape route. I cannot see if there are any halves like me in this pack who could spot me in the dark. I just use Jimmy's advice—keep to the shadows. Sneak, sneak ... and past them. Did not even look up. I think they are playing dice too. The Sarge would have flayed the skin off my back if she saw that lack of discipline!
Still no lights. The Dock Boys look like they just got here. They would not have that much influence with the bureaucracy here. Malik is just a low-grade thug; he controls the smuggling in and out of the docks. No way he has enough control to affect the city
Another light, another ten Boys. Where are the patrols? There should be a few squads down here. I guess Stillwater’s gut was spot on—this does not feel right. What does Zlata have to do with this? Is she on Malik’s payroll? He must be making a significant play tonight. Wish I knew what it was.
There are the Count’s men at arms, in the only well-lit area around here. Three guards closed gate. No Boys here. Time to do a little scout around the wall. How would I make my way into this place? This is some effective security—barbed wire and three-metre walls. What is that glint? Is that glass in the mortar? Nope, it is some transparent substance, hard and sharp—my finger can attest to that. Honey and then bandage, stupid me. So, over the wall is not the best way in, but perhaps a frontal assault, if this is their target.
What is Malik thinking? His Boys are not trained for this. Dark alleys and bar fights, yes, but against qualified men and women? My money is on the guards. This does not make sense; too many variables here and no sign of the Rejects. They might have changed their mind. Yeah, right, Stillwater changing her mind about something this fishy—like Mela’s grace she would. Gunnar and WayWocket would follow her blindly. In the end, with this sort of threat level, they could all get killed. No time to find out if they are here or not. Where would be an excellent place to skulk around and still keep an eye out for—?
Lucky me, I nearly ran into another group of Boys. It appears they are keeping away from the entrance to the grain mills. With this many, they could rush the Count’s guard, and it would be over without too much trouble, and whatever their plans, it would be done and dusted. This does not feel like the Malik I know.
Ah, here is a good spot. Not the freshest smelling area but it has a lot of cover, and I have a good view of the entryway. Now, back to overthinking. Let us look at the day: Malik was in lock-up, then Zlata ordered his release. What is their relationship? She thought I was with them, but of course, I am just one of their victims. This is making my head hurt! I am missing something. Just cannot put my finger on it. Wish I had some more of that ale; it had a little nutty flavour to it. And now we play the waiting game.
I really need to obtain one of those timepieces that rich people have. Then I would not need to worry about catching what time it is from the town crier; I can just look at the thing, and there you go. It would make life easier, and time might go faster because I can keep track of it.
Let us have a look at the men: polearms, useful for giving yourself space; armour, with breastplates, greaves, and gauntlets; backup sword on their belt; and stationed behind some barricades, so those polearms will have the advantage. And the other two guards seem to have some heavy repeater crossbows too. The road is clear for a good line of sight. Nothing is going to make it through that. They could hold off twenty, maybe thirty men. You would need some hefty lads with good shields to screen that assault. Some lads up on a wagon to give some cover fire so those crossbowmen would think twice before attacking.
Look over there—another group of four. If they hear anything they could hold this place until the morning; does not matter how many Malik throws against them. With me attacking from behind, it would be over as soon as.
Weapon check: cloth is not in the way of my draw; knives are within easy reach for close combat and to throw. Wish I had a repeater handbow, that would be great too. Maybe a gold-gilded timepiece too … Okay, let us stay in this reality. I would need nearly eighteen hundred slips for that. I think superior armour would be better than just some trinket.
What was that? Another light has gone out. From both ends now. This must be it. If they are doing this, they must have a way to see. And another. The guards notice that one. I cannot see a thing due to my position. They must be better than me at sneaking around.
Heart is starting to race. What am I doing here? Calm down, this is just another battle, nothing more. Slow it down, breathing, heart rate; calm. Think clearly—this is going to be over real soon. I hope Stillwater, Gunnar, and WayWocket are here. Except for the lights at the gateway, there is nothing on the street. Breathe. Check sword, still muffled, knives there. Wish I had my shield now. I can see that those on watch are freaking out. Sorry, lads, I can't help until they reveal themselves. I can hear them call out to the others. Oh no, it’s going to be a bloodbath. It is just me, so if I jump out now, I can kiss my arse goodbye.
Wait. All seven guards are there now; two in front with polearms and the other four with repeaters. No way anyone is going to pass them. Did one just drop? To make this night even more perfect, there are two more. Two in the back now. What is happening? I can see that they are frightened now. There goes another, and now two more. If it were me, I would take out the lights now.
Lights out. I called it! I still cannot risk jumping out there. There must be twenty of them, or they are using some sort of witch-work to take out the guards. Think. Whatever they are using, all those guards are dead men. I feel for them.
I would strike now. I bet there are at least ten. This does feel like a more elite group than Malik’s Dock Boys. How am I going to do this? If I go out there without a plan, I am dead. I cannot take on ten expertly trained soldiers. There go the last four.
What the Abyssus, there are only three of them! No way three men could take out twelve! This makes my job a little easier. If I can get the jump on them, advantage me! Wait for it, let them go inside.
Oh good, there are the Rejects. Phew, I am not alone. Great, I have been sitting here for so long now my leg is asleep. Three on three, with Rejects’ advantage. I can head home after warning them about the Dock Boys. Do not need to work myself up so
much.
Oh no, now there are two following the Rejects. This is not going to be my day.
Chapter Seventeen
Journal Entry Two continued …
From the grain mills to the streets of the warehouse district, I did not know whether I would make it, but this was the first time I stood and was recognised as Lone Solo, hero ...
What am I going to do now? Time to put up or shut up. Be aware, be prepared, like the Sarge always said, ‘Up and go!’
Why am I still lying here in rubbish? Those guys will ambush Stillwater, Gunnar, and WayWocket. Well, I do not really care if Gunnar is a little beat up, but still. Okay, quietly move before those guys advance too far. Get up! Check that there is no one else around. No point having another two or three follow you and then you are also screwed! Sneaking like a cat stalking prey. Nothing is jingling, all blacked up; it will be hard to see my silhouette in this darkness.
At the entrance now. All the guards are breathing. I thought they had been killed. Just looks like they have been knocked out. Well, that is a smart thing to do—fewer questions. Even sprinkling some ale or wine over them would make people less likely to believe them.
There they are. I can see the hooded lantern of the Rejects and the men who are following them, but where are the first three? Wait, calm yourself. Think, where would they be? Look on top of the roof—there! They knew more would follow. These people are smart. Watching and waiting to attack. I do not know if these black coats will let us live or not. At least one on the roof, two behind the Rejects, and the other two are somewhere else. What am I going to do?
First, remove the one on the roof; that vantage is too good! Best way up is that drainpipe. Stupid, move your sword sheath, it will bump against the pipe! Climbing as slowly as I can, less noise. I hate this; I do not like killing unsuspecting people. Defending myself before they have the opportunity to kill me first, true, but I still consider it murder. Greater good, save people, and all that.
There does not seem to be anyone else up here. Looks like he has some sort of blowgun. No gravel on the roof. Nothing between him and me except that aeration fan. Unclip my sword, lowering it gently to the ground. Ten more steps, knife out. Five, breathing under control, light steps, hands sweating a little, calm. Two, I can hear him breathing. He has not noticed me. Strike into the neck, hold his mouth closed. Bloody bastard bit me! Keep quiet! Now, draw it across. The Sarge would be proud of this stealth kill. There are a few more darts. Could I use them?
Pick up my sword, shimmy down to the ground, sneak up, and blow! Damn, I missed. Duck away, idiot! Phew, they did not notice me. I am going to give myself a heart attack if I keep this up. Using the blowgun is maybe not the best idea. Use what you know—knives, swords—that will keep you out of trouble. Keep them anyway, might use them later.
In a few seconds, Stillwater will call out for them to surrender and come peacefully. With how these guys work, I doubt surrender is in their vocabulary. Good, they are pulling back. The Rejects must be near the first lot.
I can hear her now. “In the Name of Count Darel Isenhart, cease and desist! You are all under arrest for trespass of Lake Merrin's grain stores. Come quietly, and you shall not be harmed. Resist and force will be employed!”
Silence. Then laughter springs from the lips of someone ahead. “You are here to stop us. There are only three of you. Did you think there were only three of us?”
Keep talking. I am nearly on the other two. Couple more steps. “We offer you, Watchwoman, that you put down your weapons and leave. If you do, you will be rewarded with ten thousand slips each and your lives. You choose.”
That growl—so Stillwater. “Force it is. Last chance.”
I have one last chance too. If I fail, I will be a dead man and the Rejects will follow. Now strike! Damn, I only hit one and grazed the other. Jump back, that swing just missed. I can see the other is drowning in his own blood. Die, filth!
What? The one on the ground just became goo, just like that other guy I heard about! What is going on?
Keep your eye on the others. Stillwater and the team have started fighting too. Explosion! Good old WayWocket with his tricks. Keep my watch up.
Pointing my sword towards the noise. “Hear that? That is something dangerous. Give up, and I promise you will not be hurt.” Damn it, he takes a step towards me, his sword weaving side to side. “Don't do it, man! Your life is not worth this.”
He seems to be competent with his weapon. Did he just look behind me? Duck, fool! A blade just missed my head. I roll away. Now there are two on me. Missed one. I keep my back to the wall; they will not get the better of me again. These guys are not like the thugs from before, they fight well together. Remember, one will feint, and the other will attack. Standard multiple attack patterns.
There—left, go, feint, and block the strike on the left. Riposte to Lefty. Great, they are not wearing armour. A cut just under his—oh no, I mean her chest. That was a breast I saw! Do not get distracted. Not like this is the only woman who ever wanted to kill me.
Best thing to do is pull a duelling dagger; will help with parrying attacks from these two opponents. Now both are moving before me. The one I struck is a little slower. Remember, you have armour. Wish I had my shield too; this would be a lot easier with that bit of extra cover. Hoping is not going to help the situation now.
Time to be bold—attack! Draw line of attack, then parry and thrust. And be countered? Bleeding wasn't part of the plan. I was hoping to cut down one with that offense. Calm yourself. Defend, plan, then attack. Now they have seen you bleed, it will become more dangerous. Feint right, thrust left, parry left, spin left, miss attack from the right.
Slice up Lefty's back. Damn it, she jumped away; another small cut. Damn, here comes Righty; he will feint again. I just barely blocked that chop. They are changing up attacks. There are two of them—give yourself room. Breathe, dagger, and sword up. Bleeding from my arm, and now a slight cut on my ear. The fight is still going on up front.
Breathe, defend. Keep an eye out for an opening. Next feint, move into it so the other attacker will be tangled up. Let’s see if this works. Righty now feints. Step diagonally, block. And congratulations, they stumble into each other. Slice and stab—good cut!
Righty twists into my sword and stabs me in the shoulder! “By Mela’s grace, that hurt!” Lean in and dig in. Lost all feeling in my left arm. Damn it! Did not go in too deep, I think. Thanks, Righty, you can keep Miss Lefty away from me ...
Green goop! He just turned to goop. I think I am going to chuck! It is so slimy, and it smells bad. I look away for a second, and have been stabbed in the gut! My protection took most of it, but I can feel it in my body. Step back, hold middle, watch.
Can only fight one-handed; still, have that dagger in my arm. Calm down, just one left. You have taken out three already, one more is not going to matter.
She is bleeding. I am bleeding more. Need to finish this quickly, but I cannot make any rash moves, or I am a dead man. I can see she is tired too. She will go for my weak side. Slide back, keep balance. Draw her in with an opening. Will she take it, or will she wait for me to bleed a bit more? Damn it! It is over for me. That is it. I cannot win. Hope this shows on my face, I need her to take a chance.
Give her a chance to give up. “Do you hear that? Yeah, nothing—no explosions, no metal on metal. You have lost. Nothing you can do but surrender. You could kill me, maybe, but my team is coming over, and they will avenge me! Why continue?”
She looks at me and lowers her sword. I can see her glancing back, wondering if I am bluffing or not. For Jara’s sake, as if I know where the Rejects are, but she does not know I am clueless. She will give up, I know it. There it is, she is about to give up.
Lowering my guard, I look down at the injured woman. Pleading with her, “If you surrender, I will make sure that you are not harmed.”
Just need to manacle her, and that is it. Looking around; what can I tie her up with? I am done for the
night.
Hang on, where did she go? My leg seems numb. Looking down, she has stabbed me in the thigh. I can see in her eyes that she is pleased with this outcome. I thrust down, and as I hit her, she turns into goop.
Not good, dagger in the thigh and sword in the shoulder. Why did I come again?
Chapter Eighteen
Journal Entry Two continued …
If anyone thinks that shields are not essential, a knife in the thigh could give you a different opinion. Gunnar’s nature mojo saved me that day and many since. He is still a dick, but he is our dick ...
These injuries need some attention. How could I slip up so much? I should have known that she would not give up easily, but no. I have, it seems, a soft spot for women. Well, there are exceptions; Stillwater, for example. She is scary.
Still cannot hear anything over there. Should I yell out? I wish we had some way to communicate with each other without talking out loud. Should bring that up with WayWocket. He will figure out something to help. Grow a pair and call out. Either way, I’m probably dying, because now I’m imagining things—Stillwater and the gang moving closer.
Down I go ...
“—okay?”
What, who, huh?
“—healed up—blood—around soon.”
That sounded like someone I know—but they are an arsehole. It must be Gunnar. If I am hearing him, I hope we are dead!
“Splash—water—bring him to.”
That was Stillwater. And there is the water—so refreshing. At least she did not think of kicking me awake. I should be grateful.
Lake Merrin Page 13
