The Motive for Massacre (The Kinless Trilogy Book 2)

by Chris Philbrook

  "I'll be discreet. Will this be dangerous if I'm caught?"

  "I don’t believe so. But it is hard to say what the mental state of the twins is. They are apt to be spooked easy with the attempt on their life, and if you scare them, or if they realize that you are working for me, they may decide you are a threat to them and their mad quest. As I said, observe and report only."

  "Discretion will be my paramount concern."

  Alisanne seemed pleased. "Excellent. James as always you are indispensable to me and the Church. Go and prepare. My prayers will be for you, and I wish the blessing of the Ancestors upon you."

  "Thank you Bishop. It's a pleasure to serve." James stood and excused himself from the room.

  They're trying to find Weston, Alisanne thought to herself. I hope he continues to remain uninvolved in all this. He will, if he remembers what happened last time.

  Alisanne got up and went to her shelf of spell components. She had a message to confer to a rarely used associate, and it needed to be sent soon.

  Malwynn and Umaryn sat in a crowded open car near the rear of the train. The faint smell of sweat and dirt lingered in the air. It would've cost them extra to get a private room aboard a car, and without the large sums of stashed money from their somewhat ruined apartment, they were riding cheap. Mal had bought a loaf of fresh bread from a kid who hawked baked goods on the rail platform, and tore off a small chunk for his sister. The long stick loaf was hard and crusty, but had a rich buttery, nutty flavor. Varrland was well known for their bread.

  The twins sat in a fairly spartan section of the train by choice. The common people of Elmoryn would sit here, not the rich, nor the influential. They reasoned that if they were to be followed, someone of stature would do it. If an Apostle traveled, they'd be more apt to do so in their robes to receive the comfort typically bestowed on Apostles. Any Apostle who made their way to the twin's train car would be an immediate threat, and they'd deal with it appropriately. Even though it sickened them to even think of killing a member of the cloth.

  The simple train car had windows running the length of it, and suspended above their heads were fabric hammocks intended for passengers to sleep in. This was one of the longer journeys one could take on a train, and sleeping while aboard was expected. It would be uncomfortable, but not the worst journey imaginable. They had just left the city, and were headed into the flat plains of west Varrland. After that would be the hill country.

  "Three days?" Mal asked Umaryn.

  "Three and a half most likely. There will be stops along the way. Elornil first then Wait Valley here in Varrland. Then at least one or two more stops once we cross the border into the Northern Protectorate. The train'll stop for a few hours to pick up more coal or peat as well, but that'll likely be when we're already at a station."

  Mal ate a chunk of his bread, "What'll we do about food? I didn't bring much in the way of money. I feel like we're back in Graben again. We'll be begging and robbing before long for sure."

  Just then Chelsea made her way through the somewhat crowded car, politely excusing her passing until she reached the twins. Before sitting she tore off a piece of Mal's bread and ate it like she'd never eaten before, stuffing the whole chunk in her mouth. The twins watched her chew, then scratch at her crotch.

  "I see why you like her," Umaryn said dryly.

  "What'd I miss?" Chelsea asked after swallowing the baked treat. She opened a water skin from her belt and downed a gulp. Everything she did, she did in leaps. This girl didn't know how to tip toe.

  "I was just remarking that we were unable to return home to retrieve our money, so we're traveling broke. For all intents and purposes," Mal said. He picked another piece of bread off.

  Chelsea took another swig of water, and then offered it to the brother and sister. Mal took a sip and handed it back. "Well good news about that. As Sergeant, I assigned ten of my men to the task of moving your belongings to my parent's home this morning. They'll be finished by high noon."

  Umaryn sat up straight, alarmed. "Strangers in our home?"

  Chelsea dismissed her concern with a wave of her hand. "Soldiers. MY soldiers. I'd die for them, and they'd do the same for me.. I told them the stuff belonged to me and I needed to move it home. They wouldn't dream of stealing from me. All your money and trinkets will be safe and sound with my parents when we get back."

  "I left some spell components locked in a small chest. If they were to get into that chest, it wouldn't take a very bright individual to make the connection to what I can do with The Way…" Mal suggested.

  "They'd never open the chest, especially if it was locked. Was it locked?"

  Mal lifted a plain cord necklace from his neck. A small key dangled there.

  Chelsea nodded. "Then you're more than all set."

  "Thank you," Mal and Umaryn said.

  "Also, I've got plenty of pieces on me. I exchanged my Marks for Duulani money right before I got on the train." She hefted a small leather bag firmly tied to her belt. The twins could hear the light musical clinking of a large amount of coins from within.

  "Careful, by the Ancestors!" Mal said in a hushed whisper. "We don’t want to be robbed."

  Chelsea looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Mal I'm wearing full armor and the uniform of a Varrlander infantry Sergeant. Your sister is wearing rather intimidating artifact armor, and you're wearing the sibling armor to that. We're all as heavily armed as can be, and not a one of us looks like an easy mark for anyone. It'd take an entire troupe of hardened criminals attacking the entire train to make a run at this bag of coins. And listen here, they'd lose some blood for every piece they try and steal."

  Mal looked at the three of them, and she was correct. He and his sister weren't the children that had headed north foolishly into Graben a year ago. "Sorry. But still. It makes no sense to advertise that you've got that much money on you. If it suits you, I'd rather avoid a fight."

  Chelsea nodded in agreement.

  "When will it get 'ere?" A dirty, mangy man asked of his superior.

  His superior, a slightly less dirty and less mangy man stood at the crest of a hill that overlooked the rails that went east-west in his portion of the Northern Protectorate. He had a dirty spyglass to his eye, and he lowered it. "The one we want will pass through in two day's time. Come right through 'ere 'bout six hours after sunset. We watch and listen for the Guildies as they come by, then we set it all up like before. We'll be ready for 'em. Tell the boys. Pay day is right soon."

  The dirtier, mangier man slapped his hands together greedily, and turned down the back of the hill. His friends (if thieves could be called that) were at the base of the hill in a twenty tent encampment. There were that many and more steeds tied to trees nearby as well, ready for their next big train robbery. The men were hungry. It'd been months since their last heist, and times were tough in the Protectorate backwaters. This one had been handed to them.

  "Boys, two days, middle of the night and we get rich again! A pile of Pieces for everyone! Sharpen your blades, and check your tack! No mercy for the wealthy, ask your ancestors for their support tonight, in two day's time we ask for their forgiveness!"

  A chorus of uneducated cheers celebrated his news.

  Generous stops at several small towns along the way to Davisville had done precious little to alleviate the stink of sweaty, poor travelers in the train. The air hung heavy, musky, rank. Malwynn had escaped out to the train dock in the small Protectorate village of Trask's Meadow at the end of the second day. The sun was dropping to the edge of the earth and everything was warm and golden. Trask's Meadow was clustered right on the twin steel rails maintained by the Guild, and only extended into the smooth, grassy hills of the NP a few hundred feet. Tall wooden fences ringed the hundred low-lying wooden homes and business, forming a strong wall against the wilds and all the danger that could roam there. Fields of vegetables and wheat were ringed by similar fences beyond the town. Towns in the wilds of Elmoryn such as this were designed to be h
ard to get into. If the dead were to come, strong fences were excellent first lines of defense.

  The town was more compact that New Picknell, but set against the distant green grass and the yellow of the wheat fields the locals were growing Mal couldn’t help but reminisce. He wondered what the burnt ruins of New Picknell were like today. Had anyone gone there to rebuild?

  "Remind you of home?" Chelsea asked.

  Mal hadn't heard her approach. "Uh, yeah. Since New Picknell was sacked by The Empire Umaryn and I haven't been outside of a city much. A few days on our way north as we tracked the attackers, and then the train ride to Daris. Every other day it seems has been inside a city. At this point I imagine any small town will make me think of home."

  Chelsea put her hand on Mal's shoulder affectionately.

  "I thought you didn't like me anymore?" Mal asked her.

  Chelsea shrugged, but didn't take her hand away. "I thought a lot about what I would do if someone killed my ma and pa. The more I thought about it, the angrier and angrier I got. Then I started to think what would I do to get back at the people who'd killed my family? What would I do to make things right when justice couldn't be served? And you know what?"

  "What?" Mal asked.

  "I'd do anything. I'd learn how to cook. I'd murder. I'd give everything I owned, everything I could steal. Everything Mal. And I get you learning necromancy. I really do. And you know what?"

  "You're very repetitive with asking me what?"

  Chelsea swatted Mal on the back of the head. "No jackass. I was about to tell you that there is something very attractive about a man that's willing to give up everything, including becoming something the world might hate for the ones he loves."

  Mal let that hang in the warm afternoon air. Chelsea eventually smiled and headed back into the train. Shortly after that, the whistle blew, and the rest of the weary travelers headed onto the train. Mal was the last to board. He didn't want to lose the memories of home that came to him there. When the Guild attendee came out and gathered Mal he boarded the train slowly.

  Guild maintenance teams rode ahead of every train traveling across Elmoryn. Robberies against trains were uncommon but they did happen. The Guild was less worried about theft however. Justice in such a matter would be handled by local authorities. A derailment was their primary concern. If a train were to skip the tracks there could be catastrophic levels of injury and death, and if there wasn't an Apostle on the train or nearby to stop the inevitable reanimation of the dead…

  Most of the track security teams were just two soldiers, an Apostle, and two Way skilled Artificers in a small locomotive made especially for the purpose. Some of the more powerful Artificer teams assigned to very dangerous stretches of track were entirely made of men and women so skilled they were able to use The Way to soar on metal wings that sprouted from their back, but this was typically not a dangerous route to take. The four souls in the engine trudging along miles ahead of the train the twins and Chelsea rode in were simply looking for debris to clear from the path, and ensuring that the tracks were uniform.

  They were vigilant. A failure on their part could visit terrible wrath on the countryside, or endanger the precious machine of the locomotive, and they were not going to allow that. Their engine moved along, and all their eyes were trained ahead on the smooth metal rails.

  When they were a mile gone and far out of earshot, the raiding party rode hard to the tracks and set up a blockade that would surely cause the engineer to stop the train that followed a few miles behind. Once stopped, all aboard would be at their mercy, especially the brother and sister that looked alike. They were carrying something of incredible value.

  They'd been told so.

  In the far end car of the long train Chelsea hung in a hammock suspended from the ceiling. She swayed slightly as the train rocked along its path. Hanging beside her was Mal, fast asleep in his own hammock. Below on the bench seat sat Umaryn, still wearing her prized ruby red armor, her arms crossed. Her chin was resting on her breastplates, and her head swayed back and forth in rhythm with the two above her in the hammocks. The train car was blessedly silent, save for the snores of those sleeping all around and the natural mechanical creaks of the car.

  A bleating squeal in the night tore up the silence like tissue paper. Umaryn came to immediately, her arms uncrossing and a hand drifting down to the hammer in her lap. Chael's hammer. Her mind raced to put a reason to the braking at this hour, but she couldn't think of one good cause. The Artificer she'd spoken with at Trask's Meadow said they were nonstop straight to Davisville, arriving at noon the next day. Any stop in the middle of the night meant…

  Umaryn turned in her seat and looked out the windows onto the moonlit plains of the Protectorate. Her eyes caught the tiniest flecks of movement at the edge of light, and she knew exactly what she was seeing. Men on horseback charging the side of the train.

  She jabbed her hand into the sleeping back of her brother. "Mal wake up, wake up!" She poked at Chelsea, who was already rolling around to see what the noise was. "Chelsea get up, we've got trouble."

  Chelsea was alert instantly, spinning out of the hammock and landing firmly on the floor many feet below like she'd done it before. She found her armor and started to slide it on before she even asked what was happening. Mal was just rousing. "What's happening? Are we stopped?"

  "Yeah, look out the window. I think those are rail brigands. Robbers."

  Mal clumsily dropped from the hammock but landed on his feet. He winced. "We're being robbed? Who the hell does that in this day and age?"

  Chelsea answered him, "The NP is only loosely governed Mal. Most of it is independent towns and small cities. There are gaps of thirty or forty miles of lawlessness all over the country. You get one drought, or a bad fever, and these people will do anything to survive. Robbing strangers passing through is easy so long as they don't harm the locomotive in the process."

  Mal made fists and got the blood flowing in his hands. He looked at Chelsea. "Remember when you said something earlier about an entire troupe of hardened criminals?"

  "I don't wanna hear it Mal," the sergeant said.

  "This could get ugly," Umaryn said softly, as the other passengers in the car started to realize what was happening. Frightened screams and terrified sobbing erupted all about.

  Mal checked his pockets for spell components, and then adjusted his belt. "That's okay. We're good at ugly."

  - Chapter Eight -

  MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS

  The horses were fast. Too damned fast. By the time the twins and Chelsea drew their weapons and tried to organize the frightened passengers in their car, the bandits were at the train and were dismounting. There were only a few minutes to spare before the robbers would be onboard the train, and certain violence would be at hand.

  "Do we fight them? Or let them rob everyone? The Guild would say to allow it. Justice is the domain of the local authority." Umaryn asked after chanting to her weapon. Many of the frightened passengers took some solace in the sound of her whispers to the weapon.

  "We are the local authority Umaryn. I'm not standing by and letting these people lose what they've earned to these losers with a blade. Times are tough for everyone," Chelsea said, striding away towards the door of the car. She was heading towards the bandits.

  "I guess that settles it," Mal said, drawing his own short sword. Umaryn shrugged and hefted her enchanted hammer. Her attempt at backing down was half hearted anyway.

  The twins strode through the now quiet crowd in the car. The strangers didn't know who the three were, but the situation was obvious; they were going to take the fight to those who were threatening them. A cheer started as they exited the car and headed into the next in line. Chelsea had picked up speed, closing the gap between her and two of the thieves that were standing ahead, rifling through bags that didn’t belong to them. Several passengers were begging, terrified that the men would kill them after stealing their meager possessions.

  With the
passengers on each side of the aisle a wide arc from her blade would assuredly kill an innocent, so she adapted to the environment. Chelsea's blade came down like a bolt of silver lightning from over her shoulder. Before the thief could get his own blade up to parry the strike, Chelsea's bit deep at his shoulder joint, parting flesh easily. His face registered a moment of disbelief before she yanked the blade free from the ligaments and bone.

  "Who are y—?" he asked in a soft voice just before the Varrlander sergeant drove her blade hilt deep in his ribs. Far too many important parts got a hole poked in them, and the man fell to his knees as the crowd in the train car screamed. The twins couldn't tell if the screams were those of victory, or fear.

  The second thief was smart and fast enough to use his friend's demise to his advantage. He ran. Chelsea was on his heels after leaping over the first man's dead body.

  "Run you fucking coward! You think I won't stab you in the back? Think again you thief!" Chelsea was furious. This attack was clearly against her sense of right and wrong.

  The thief made it to the train car exit and leapt sideways, wildly into the dark of the moonlit night. Even inside the car Mal and Umaryn could hear his leg break as he hit the hard packed Protectorate soil. He screamed out in pain. Chelsea was moving, immediately disregarding the now injured man. He was no longer a threat to the passengers.

  Chelsea got to the next train car door and gave the handle a twist, but it held firm. She leaned in close to peer into the now darkened car, trying to find the reason behind the door's refusal to budge, and the lack of light inside.

  "Is it locked?" Mal asked as he reached the space in the cool night air between the rail cars.