by M. K. Gibson
“Well, then stop jabbering with me, sir, and get this done.”
“Agreed. Go to standby,” I said, and I heard the line go dead.
“Where is Hawker?” I said, looking around. I nodded toward Wren and Carina and signaled them with a hand over my eyes in a searching gesture, then pantomimed a muscled simpleton, giving them my best Hawker impression. Wren shook his head while Carina held her hands up, not knowing.
Damn it.
“How should I rebuild the Bastards?” Lydia asked.
Her question was odd for several reasons. First, because it was not germane to the situation. Second, because it completely ignored what had transpired between us. Lydia inched closer to me, into the intimate zone people have.
“Supply and demand,” I said absently. Something about how Gale Korva was looking around, or rather not looking, was bothering me. For an assassin clan leader, she should have been more wary.
“I don’t understand,” Lydia said.
“Hmm? Oh, recruit smarter members.”
“I did that.”
“Form a brotherhood. A sense of family.”
“I did that.”
“Poorly,” I said while I watched.
“Hey,” Lydia hissed. She snatched her hand out to grab ahold of my tabard. “Pay attention to me.”
I looked at her hand, then into her eyes. “This new found relationship aside, you ever grab me like that again and I will be involved with a one-handed woman.”
“You go on ahead and try,” Lydia said. But she released me.
With that bit of business aside, I returned to watching Anders and her captains. “Your Bastards failed the way all small business do. You tried to grow too fast. You assumed that becoming bigger meant success. You allowed the impoverished in, along with their families, to create your illusion of family. After that, you let in refugees, which was ultimately your downfall. By doing so, you did not know your people, inside and out.”
“Aren’t you in this situation because you didn’t know your people well enough?”
“ . . . Yes,” I agreed reluctantly. “A lesson we villains must learn over and over, it seems. But we are talking about your mistakes, not mine. Besides, in my realm, I am a god.”
“You don’t look too godly hiding in the rafters.”
“Be silent, woman,” I said while Lydia smiled. “As I was saying, you need to create a supply and a demand. You need to create two groups. The Forgotten Bastards, mercenary group, and a sub-contract company that attacks caravans, robs, and all such petty larceny. The Bastards then will stop said company of thieves, again your own men. Perhaps the ones you don’t trust and don’t mind having killed off. Regardless, once word spreads that the Bastards are performing a public service, they will be hired for other jobs. Jobs that involve stopping your own men. Thus, you control the crime and the protection in your region. But that is just an idea off the top of my head.”
“That’s . . . brilliant,” Lydia said, sounding surprised. “How many people can know about it?”
“In application? No more than three. You, as the leader of the Bastards, whomever you appoint as the leader of your thieves’ guild, and me. But in principle, only one person. Since that is impossible, I suggest you keep the number low. Ben Franklin once said, ‘Three men can keep a secret, provided two of them are dead.’”
“Who was he?”
“A wise, treacherous old villain from my world. He helped to found a country by advising the leaders but never serving in a position of actual leadership.”
“He sounds formidable.”
“He was. The lech even managed to manipulate a position as an ambassador to a country where the women were notorious for their sexual liberty. I am fairly sure he died of disease from his liaisons. What a way to go.”
“Indeed. Well, do you have other great advice for an up-and-coming villain?”
“Yes. Learn to play dead,” I said, scanning the room.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Playing dead, or at least unconscious, allows you gain intelligence you might not otherwise be privy to. Try it now. I could use the silence.”
“You so love me,” Lydia smirked.
“I am beginning to regret it. Now be quiet. Where the hell is Hawker?” I asked, my temper getting the better of me.
“Do you want to know?” General Anders’s voice boomed though the great hall, answering my question.
Crap. We’d been made.
“See what you did? You should have been quieter. Perhaps play dead?” Lydia said with a self-satisfied smile.
My paramour was a bitch.
“Come down, little rats, and I’ll show you the fate of your companion,” she announced.
Steve placed his fingers in his mouth and made a sharp whistling sound. I’d always hated people who could do that. For all my power and reach, that was a skill I could never master.
The main hall was quickly flooded with armed guards in heavy plate armor. Their tromping and clanking echoed through the hall and bounced around in the rafters where my companions and I were. Each of the thirty or so guards were armed not just with swords, but also with crossbows. Each of the men aimed their weapons towards the rafters.
“I will not ask again,” Anders said. She moved her hand over the table and a small oval portal opened behind her. Through the portal I could see two of her guards standing at the edge of lava pit. They had Hawker bound, his toes inches over the edge.
“Upon my orders, my men will cast your friend into the lava. Then, my guards will open fire and kill you all. Your move, Shadow Master.”
They knew we were up here, but due to the poorly lit hall, they weren’t sure exactly where. Perhaps we could use this to our advantage?
“How did they know we were here?” Lydia whispered in my ear.
“Because I told them,” Carina said.
The half-dwarf dropped from the rafters all the way to the stone floor. She fell into an easy stance as if a twenty-five foot drop was nothing. She stood and smiled.
“Well done, my new servant.”
“Your will be done, General,” Carina said, bowing.
That hairy bitch just pulled a Lando Calrissian.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Where I Am Forced To Listen to Two Traitors and Plan a Counterattack While Not Moving
“He’s weak,” Carina said the moment my feet touched the ground after the climb down from the rafters. “He is low on his power. His thick-thief uses poison-coated knives. The ammalar is . . . surprisingly flexible for his age.”
“You did the right thing, leaving that message for us at the beach,” Steve said.
“You missed the note she carved in the prison wagon, directing us to the elven lands,” Korva said.
“I missed nothing,” Steve said.
“Enough,” Anders said, silencing the captains. “At least she provided what my captains could not—results.” The general looked both Steve and Gale Korva over as one looks at dogs who shit on the floor while you were away.
“I told you he would come here,” Steve said. The former Marine would not back down to the giant woman’s glare.
“You only knew that because the one called Courtney suggested it first upon his visit here,” Korva corrected.
Steve glared at her, but the assassin paid him no mind. No doubt several members of the Night Fires were hidden in this very room, ready to move on her orders.
“Silence, both of you. I am in command here. Learn to follow or learn how to swim in a lake of molten rock,” General Anders bellowed. “Carina of the Twilight Guard, you have earned a place of honor in my retinue. Name your reward and you shall have it, among countless riches.”
“I seek no riches, General. I only wish the complete and utter decimation of The Twilight Guard. For their treachery upon me, I wish for their order to be wiped out to the last members and all records of them blotted out of history for all time to come.”
God damn. That woman was vicious. S
elling us out to get what she wanted? I’d be angry if I wasn’t so impressed. She was this devious the whole time? Right under my nose? Was I slipping? Perhaps I had gotten too complacent. If I hadn’t realized my moron of a sister was sleeping with my head of security and they were plotting against me, hence my current situation, then perhaps my judge of character was also now suspect.
“You bitch!” Hawker yelled from the other side of the portal.
“Oh please,” Carina said to Hawker. “You bore me with your little sad stories. Oh no, my parents are dead, but my real father is the ruler of an entire empire. Just accept him and imagine what kind of power you could have.”
“I can’t believe I defended you,” Wren said, sounding defeated.
“Be calm, lover, or else you may end up joining young master Hawker out there.”
“Well said,” Anders said, as she moved away from her desk to stand over Carina. “But I will have to dispense with Wren regardless. He betrayed me. And I cannot allow a traitor in my midst. Even a plaything.”
Carina turned and bowed to General Anders. “Yes, General, I understand.”
“Stand, Carina. You have proven yourself capable and ruthless.”
“How do we know this isn’t a trick?” Korva asked. “What if she is simply playing us?”
“Look at Jackson’s eyes; he never saw this coming. No way this is a trick,” Steve said.
“Silence, Captain Cooke. The women are talking,” Anders said. “Carina, I would be remiss if I didn’t ask why. Korva is correct. This could all be an elaborate deception.”
“Because I figured you of all women knew what it was like to be considered a freak simply because you possessed strength. At first, I joined this group out of sense of adventure. I beg your pardon, General, but if I could be part of the movement to dethrone Baron Grimskull, then the power and fame that would come after would be immeasurable. But as we continued our adventure and after many captures, it was clear we were but children playing at a game for more powerful people. So I decided I wished to be on the winning side. And now that I stand proud as a half-breed woman, I refuse to hide who I am. Nor shall I hide my desire to dominate those weaker.”
Oh, she’s good.
“You are a rare gem in this disgusting world. But never refer to yourself as a half-breed again in my presence. You are a whole person. Strong and beautiful.” The general nodded her head to her side. “Take your place.”
Carina quickly moved to stand next to her and then the giant turned her attention to me.
“Well, Shadow Master, you gave us quite a little chase. The baron wants you back alive, but I am starting to think that is not possible. For all our best efforts, you managed to elude us. I applaud you for that.”
“Thank you. Now I must warn you that you should very much consider letting us go.”
“Why would I do that?” the general asked. “Look around. You are reduced to yourself, a broken-down old warrior who’s protected by a fickle god, and a thief who appears to not miss many meals. You are surrounded by heavily armored guards with crossbows and Korva’s Night Fires. What exactly is your brilliant escape plan?”
“I never said escape,” I said. “I said you should let us go. You are far too beautiful a woman to die today. Hmm . . . unless you come back in a sequel?” I said, pondering the idea. Eventually I shrugged. “Regardless, this is not going to end well for you if you press the issue.”
“Boss, what are you doing?” Sophia said in my ear.
“I am going to do nothing,” I said, responding to both women. “I will do absolutely nothing. And in so, I am removing myself from the equation.”
“What are you talking about?” both Sophia and General Anders said.
“No . . . NO!” Captain Cooke yelled. I turned my head towards him and smiled. He’d figured it out. Too bad Anders and the rest of them had not.
“Wren, would you be so kind as to wish these guardsmen health and prosperity?” I asked.
The ammalar of Vammar picked up on what I was alluding to.
Quickly, Wren raised his war hammer in the air, a nimbus of purple energy glowing like a beacon, and slammed the weapon to the stone floor, screaming “Blessings upon mine enemies!”
The hammer struck the stone and the room itself rocked as the energy from the will of Vammar was released through the room in a blinding flash. But only the forces of Anders were affected.
That’s the nature of Vammar. Wren specifically blessed his enemies, so only his enemies received Vammar’s curse. In that flash of brilliant light, crossbow strings snapped, armor shattered, and General Anders, along with all her allies, was blinded.
Except Carina. The crafty, hairy bitch just smiled as she quickly moved to Anders’s magical table.
“Duck!” Carina shouted as she began swiping her hands over the instruments. Wren, Lydia, and I obeyed, throwing ourselves to the ground.
A dwarf’s mind instinctively knows how machinery works, even magical machinery. The table appeared to be no different. In moments, small black discs of energy—Anders’s transportation portals—appeared in midair among the blinded guards. Instead of appearing vertically, they were horizontal, parallel to the ground.
Carina swiped an instrument and all the portals widened and then closed in a flash, slicing the guards in half. What once was thirty armed guards was now sixty pieces of dying people. Blood pooled along the floor as soldiers died. The great hall was flooded with the screams of men and women who were quickly bleeding to death.
Carina had killed everyone in one quick action.
Almost everyone.
Captain Cooke had not been blinded. Traitor or not, he still belonged to me. And as my property, he was unaffected by the Curse of Vammar. The resourceful Marine had tackled General Anders to the floor, sparing her life.
Korva, on the other hand, was not so lucky, as she too was cut in half by one of the offensive portals. I watched her bleed out. The great assassin’s eyes were in a state of shock and disbelief as she died. But at least that was a loose end tied up. If she lived, Hawker might question her about the murder of Alianna/Bethany.
The captain was to his feet in seconds while Anders remained blinded on the floor. Vaulting over a table, Cooke threw a vicious kick that connected to Carina’s head. His armored leg carried with it additional weight that knocked the woman to the floor.
“I’ll kill you!” Wren roared, swinging his war hammer with all his might at Cooke’s chest. Had he connected, Wren would have crushed Steve’s chest and killed him, barring any trickery by Vammar.
But Wren did not connect, because his target was a former Marine who was well trained in close combat tactics. Cooke turned with the blow and pulled the war hammer from the bigger man’s grip. Continuing the motion, Cooke spun and slammed the hammer into Wren’s kidneys, dropping the ammalar to his knees.
“Stupid fucking medieval combat bullshit. You’ve never fought one of the toughest warriors Uncle Sam ever created,” Cooke taunted. He lined up his next shot, aiming the blow at Wren’s unprotected head. If he connected, Wren’s head would explode in broken skull, blood, and brains.
Cooke looked at me. “Call them off or he dies.”
“I’ll tell you what I told Anders, Steve. I won’t do anything. But if you stop, you will live. Otherwise, you will die today.”
“Wrong answer, motherfucker.”
Cooke shifted his body into a batting stance. Pulling his arms back, Cooke began to swing the hammer, but as he did his foot stepped into the ever-growing pool of blood. He slipped slightly, losing his balance for just a moment.
And a moment was all it took was for Lydia to launch a poison-coated throwing dart across the space between them. Lydia’s aim was true and the knife hit Cooke in his only unprotected spot, the head.
“OW!” Cooke screamed as he fell to the ground. It appeared that Lydia’s throw, while accurate, wasn’t strong enough to penetrate his thick skull. So only one half-inch of the small throwing dart was emb
edded into the bone along the top of Cooke’s forehead.
“Ow ow ow! Goddamn it! Why the head?! Jesus Christ!” The former Marine screamed and writhed on the bloody floor.
“Nice shot,” I said to Lydia, who came to stand next to me, watching Cooke try and pull the dart free.
“Thank you.”
“You didn’t kill him,” I commented.
“Oh god, why the head?! It’s in the bone! It’s in the bone!” Cooke wailed.
“Oh shut up,” Lydia told Cooke, then turned to me. “And I lost my heavy throwing knives saving you from Khasil.”
“Ha!” Cooke yelled as he wrenched the dart free. He stood and pulled the sword on his hip.
“Hey Steve?” I said.
“What?!”
“That dart was poisoned.”
“Oh shiiiiiii . . . ” Cooke tried to say as his knees buckled. The armored man with a hole in his head collapsed and was asleep in seconds. His immediate snoring blew bubbles in the congealing blood on the floor. It was almost cute.
“Enough!” Anders roared as she drew herself up to her full height. With her eyesight returning, the giantess was once again on her feet and a power of her own. With a flick of her wrist, black clouds jetted from her bracelet. The clouds condensed and hardened, forming her giant mace, Coldfyr.
Anders brought the mace down onto her magical map table, splintering it. The broken wood simultaneously caught fire while freezing.
Damn. There went my plan to sneak into Chaud’s tower. It was amazing (or contrived) that the portal to where Hawker was stayed open. The general began swinging the weapon around her head and was moving directly toward me.
An inconvenient thing, considering I had to stand perfectly still.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Where I Witness the Fury of a Half-Dwarf and Ponder Vaginal Relativity
“You die!” General Anders boomed as she stomped towards me, knocking over tables and kicking corpses away.
Lydia threw two more of her throwing darts at the oncoming giantess, embedding the blades in her chest and the shoulder of her weapon arm. Anders simply ignored the attack. Her internal temperatures were growing and her skin began to glow, as her fire giant side was coming through.
