“Will they scan my face, Adam?”
“Certainly,” he said. “It will be important for Nash to go ahead and explain before you reach the Hoplites.”
Nash was glad it had been her decision to try this. He’d do everything he could, but this was new territory and he was doubting the chances of success more with every step forward “Adam, if they won’t let me escort her, can you use your pull to get her across, like you got us out of the mess with the Marauders?”
He was quiet long enough that Nash started to wonder if he’d missed the reply in the scraping of their feet on the dirt road.
“No,” Adam finally said. “My influence is unofficial. I have more love from the people than I do from anyone in an official capacity.”
There wasn’t a whole lot Nash could do until they actually reached the gate, so he started thinking about the details of being on the other side. “Once we’re on the Cold side,” he told Livi, “I know it’ll be hard for you, but the key is to lay low, avoid drawing attention from any Rangers in the first place. If you weren’t so irresistibly attractive…” he trailed off and looked away.
“A compliment, Nash? I didn’t know you felt that way.”
It sounded like she barely got the words out. Nash could tell she wasn’t really into the banter. He wished he could do something to make the trip easier for her, but she wasn’t carrying any bags and he wasn’t about to scoop her up into his arms. He had already offered and she just showed him her fangs and growled.
The first torches came into view as the road curved, and little by little, he could see the rest of the checkpoint. As he’d seen on the hollows, the fence that separated Hot and Cold was actually two fences, each with its own large gate. Surrounding each gate was a stone tower and extending from the tower on the Hot side was a drawbridge, lowered over a moat. He’d seen the moat on the hollows and always assumed it ran along the fence from south to north all the way across the island. Now that he was looking at it, he could see it ran less than … fifty feet—take that, Livi, I can use feet—before ending abruptly. The entire purpose of the moat was to make the checkpoint look more impressive on the hollows.
The only sign of life anywhere was a small group of Legionnaires searching a wagon at the far end of the drawbridge in the open area between the two gates. Nash could see straight through the opening on the Hot side tower, through the other tower and into the Cold side of the island, as far as the torchlight allowed, anyway.
Livi groaned. “I was hoping there would be a long line at the gate and I could sleep while we waited.”
“The offer to carry you is still valid,” said Nash.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” There was more life in her voice. The sight of the gate seemed to invigorate her. “Are they looking for contraband?”
Adam made a non-committal noise. “Mostly Level 2 and 3 potions and devices. Druid items, totems, potions, and the like. They catch some of those things, but it isn’t hard to smuggle them through.
Nash gritted his teeth, feeling pissed off at the Marauders all over again. Triple R always had an assortment of those types of magic items, and Nash could have put those coins to good use arming himself if he could figure out where to go buy that stuff.
“Are they going to scan us twice?” asked Livi.
“No. Only the guards of the kingdom you are trying to enter.”
Nash asked, “Why do the Legionnaires even bother checking to see who comes into the Hot side?”
“Neither side cares who leaves,” answered Adam. “They just want to know who and what is coming in. They collect tariffs from merchants and traders, but not travelers.”
“Good,” said Livi. “Because someone gave away my purse. Is there someone you know who can help our friend with his gambling problem?”
Nash chuckled and said, “I think I liked you better when you were too exhausted to speak.”
As they got closer, Nash saw more than a dozen Legionnaires guarding the gate on the Hot side. Some had just sent the wagon off and were walking toward the tower, some stood by the gate, and through the windows of the tower a few more faces showed. A fifty-foot paved road served as a sally port between the two guard towers.
Opposite the red-clad Legionnaires was another group of soldiers, all dressed differently. The only thing that connected the soldiers guarding the Cold side were differing swaths of blue that ran across their shields, clothing, and armor.
“So the blue guys over there are Hoplites?” asked Livi.
Nash answered. “Yep. Citizen soldiers.”
“They seem to really like those spears. You sure one of them isn’t going to try to skewer me?”
“If I was a betting man, as I’ve been accused of being, I wouldn’t put money on it,” said Nash. “Sure you don’t want to back out?”
“Stay here while some Level 3 Wizard is casting spells over there like a hotshot? No way.”
“Potions,” said Adam.
“What?” asked Nash and Livi in unison.
“Potions,” repeated Adam. “The Wizard is a potion master. I don’t think he knows any spells.”
“No electricity from his fingertips or anything?” asked Nash.
“Nope.”
“Then what makes him Level 3?”
“His potions are very good.”
Nash couldn’t really conceive of that. All the Level 3s he knew of were great fighters, or had amazing modifications. How could potion-making be a Level 3 skill?
They reached the drawbridge and Nash stepped forward to lead them across, remembering what Adam had said about letting the Hoplites know he was escorting a Level 3 Jennie.
As his boots sounded on the wood of the drawbridge and he looked into the faces of a dozen Legionnaires, and twice that many Hoplites, he began to feel like this was a very bad idea. Would they just turn her away? Detain her? Kill her?
It had been a couple hours since the fight with the Marauders. Nash’s shoulder hurt, but he could feel it stitching itself back together after nearly having his arm cut off by that sword. He was strong, but not ready for a full-on fight with thirty-plus soldiers. However, if it came down to it, he wouldn’t let anything happen to Livi without putting up a fight.
Faces tracked the group from arrow slits in the Legionnaires’ tower. Nash considered explaining the whole escort thing to the soldiers in red on this side of the border, but like Adam said, they didn’t care who approached from the Hot side.
At the end of the drawbridge, they went under the wall of the tower into a small torch-lit plaza. Looking up. Nash saw the points of a huge portcullis hanging above them. With a single move, the Legionnaires could send it crashing down to block passage entirely.
“Ho, Adam,” said a Legionnaire in the guard tower, raising a sword in salute. Like the rest of the Legionnaires, he wore segmented armor on his chest, a layered leather skirt, and bright metal helmet with a row of feathery spikes.
“Ho, Cid. I’ll be spending some time with these fine people.”
Most of the Legionnaires nodded greetings to Adam as he passed, and looked over the rest of the group, but didn’t make any motion to stop them. One bulky Legionnaire took a step to the side to get a clearer view. His eyes squinted as he studied them, but most of his face was covered by the men in front of him.
Nash felt a twinge of recognition and studied him as he walked past. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the Legionnaire from Troy that Livi had taunted following the massacre. If the hatred in his eyes was any indication, the man was one and the same.
He waited for the Legionnaire to challenge them or cause some sort of trouble, but all he did was stare.
Nash breathed easier when his group made it past the guard house and the Legionnaires.
At the far side of the small plaza, the blue- and gold-clad Hoplites began mobilizing, some coming forward to stand in the path, some coming out of the tower. They stood in a line across the road with the middle pair crossing spears, ceremoniousl
y barring the road.
Unlike the Legionnaires, they were all dressed differently. A few of them wore old-style plated armor and helmets with tall mohawks similar to the Legionnaires. A couple had a Middle Eastern flair like Aladdin or Ali Baba, with vests and puffy pants. One wore a thick, padded cloth armor coat, another dressed like Nash in simple pants and a t-shirt. The two things they had in common were the spears each held and shields like shallow dishes, each with distinct hand-drawn images on the front.
The leader stepped forward. He was a burly man with long black hair and had a Native American warrior vibe going on. His shield was decorated with Native American symbols, mostly pointy animal shapes. Instead of the spear Nash expected to see, he carried a scanner similar to the ones used at the depos.
Nash angled toward him. When he was close enough to be heard without shouting, he said, “I am—”
“Ho, Hoplites!” The voice came from behind him, from the other gate. Nash glanced back and saw it was the Legionnaire he’d recognized from Troy. “Gate crasher! Vamp!”
As Nash reached for his gun, the Hoplites broke into a half circle, wrapping around Nash and his group. He heard Livi’s fangs activate with the loud sound of a spring. As Nash swept his gun back and forth to cover as many Hoplites as possible, Adam stepped up to stand next to Nash, while Ahab and Srenners took a couple of steps backward out of the commotion. Livi dropped her cloak to the ground and held both of her wicked daggers in a defensive position.
The spears of the Hoplites were less than a meter away from them on three sides.
“She’s in my custody!” shouted Nash, settling the sights of his gun right between the leader’s eyes.
“Lower your gun, Ranger!” shouted the leader. “You may have authority elsewhere, but the checkpoint is the domain of King Drin.”
Nash looked around the half circle of Hoplites. For a group of citizen soldiers, they appeared extremely well-trained. Every spear was held at exactly the same height, and the same distance apart, despite the varying size of the men and women who comprised the Hoplight rank. There was no sign of rust on any blade, shield, or helmet. There were at least twenty of them. Behind the soldiers, a handful of bows and crossbows protruded from arrow slits in the turrets. It wasn’t just Livi that was at risk, but him and Adam also.
“I am a duly appointed Ranger of Hollow Island Projections. My authority comes from higher than King Drin.”
The leader repeated, “Lower your weapon before we’re forced to disarm you.”
“Then what?” asked Nash.
“We take you into custody. And people above my paygrade make decisions from there.”
Not only would that delay the hunt for the Reaper indefinitely, anything was possible if they were thrown in a cell.
There was no chance to run—too many Hoplites ahead of them, and the Legionnaires were now lined up behind them, spread across the roadway with weapons in hand. Fighting wasn’t an option either, not with Livi barely able to stand. Talking his way out was the only way to make sure everyone survived the night.
Nash let the gun fall to waist level but still clutched it with both hands. He didn’t budge from his place in front of Livi. “She’s in my custody. I have every right to escort her anywhere on the island.” He felt like he should be able to escort her, anyway.
The Hoplite leader scowled. “Adam, how’d you get mixed up with this group?”
“Ho, Black Kettle,” said Adam. “We have some business in Ponce.”
“For you, Adam, we will pretend like you didn’t know.” Black Kettle gestured to Ahab and Srenners with his head. “The servants too. And if the Ranger can be reasonable, he can leave with you. The Vamp has to stay.”
“I’m not leaving without her,” said Nash.
“Let me guess,” said Black Kettle to Nash. “You immigrated a couple weeks ago. You’re a big man with a new eye and all sorts of power. A sexy woman approaches you and asks a favor.” He looked over Nash’s shoulder at Livi then turned back to Nash. “She’d stir the loins of any man, and I can see she has you enthralled, but it’s not worth your life.”
“Thanks for your concern, but it changes nothing,” said Nash. He would never abandon a partner, and what he felt for Livi went far beyond that. She was more than a friend, and yet nowhere near being a girlfriend. But their strange position somewhere between the two was enough that he’d take a spear for her, even without the partnership.
“Fool,” muttered the Hoplite leader. “Adam, I know you’re wise enough to want nothing to do with this nonsense.”
Adam was thoughtful, as everyone involved watched him closely. “I’ve thrown my lot in with them. I believe in what they’re doing. For the good of all my people, please let us pass.”
Nash wanted to high five Adam. The loyalty was much more than he expected.
Black Kettle blew a frustrated breath out of his nostrils and Nash saw a slight shake of his head. He took one step forward, bringing his face close to Adam’s ear. The scene was quiet enough that his voice carried to Nash. “The king has no tolerance for gate crashers. The Vamp is going to die, I’m almost certain. You gain nothing by staying.”
“I won’t abandon my children in their time of need,” answered Adam. “I beg of you to let us pass. We are on a mission to stop the night monster. He will tear through the Cold side of Hollow Island with carnage we haven’t seen even in our nightmares.”
Black Kettle’s face was unyielding, but at least he was listening. If anyone on the island could get them out of this without violence, it was Adam. There was nothing else Nash could say that Adam hadn’t already said.
With a simple shake of his head, Black Kettle crushed their hopes.
“We’ll pay you,” said Nash. “Whatever you want.” They didn’t have the coin on them, but it was worth a try.
Black Kettle scowled at Nash then spat on the ground. “Last chance, Adam. Take the Ranger and go.”
Nobody moved.
“No?” asked Black Kettle. “This brings me no pleasure.” He took a step back and raised a hand. “On your knees, gate crashers!”
The Hoplite’s words pushed Nash’s back against a wall. A figurative one, but he couldn’t ignore it. It was fight or die at this point, and Nash wasn’t going down easy. Livi was in no condition to fight and Adam had made it clear he wasn’t a fighter. The servants had wisely removed themselves from the situation. It was up to Nash to do as much damage as possible and try to get Livi and himself out of there.
Just as Black Kettle had said, it would bring Nash no pleasure either.
Ten bullets for twice that many Hoplites. He’d go for center mass to thin the crowd, then switch to Barbs even though they wouldn’t do any serious damage. After that he’d try to get his hands on a shield to keep the arrows away while he found cover from the archers. Hopefully Livi could take out a few Hoplites before running completely out of gas so they could make some sort of escape. They hadn’t lost a fight together yet. Technically, they’d won against the Marauders, until Jack Tar went back on his word.
The key was the element of surprise. He needed to let her know he was about to draw first blood.
Sliding his finger over the trigger, Nash muttered, “Crepi il lupo.”
“No!” shouted Adam. He put one hand on Nash’s wrist, and used his other hand to push away the nearest spear. “There will be no bloodshed today. Black Kettle, a word.”
The Hoplite leader said, “You had your chance. The only way I listen to another word is if they are disarmed.”
That was insane. There was no way Nash was giving up his gun, and he knew how attached Livi was to her blades.
“So be it,” said Adam. Turning away from the Hoplites, he held a hand out to his companions and simply said, “Trust me.”
How could he trust without knowing what Adam had planned? Then again, how could he not? Adam obviously had a better idea than Nash did. With a glance around at the dozens of enemies, he reluctantly put the butt of his pistol in Ada
m’s hand. Livi cursed in Portuguese, slapped the handles of her daggers together, and laid them in the other hand.
“The Lord will provide,” said Adam.
“Now you tell us that,” said Livi. “If you would have said that when I still had my daggers I would have stabbed someone, and there’s no guarantee it wouldn’t be you.”
Adam and Black Kettle stepped out of the Hoplite semicircle, which closed in again immediately, the soldiers returning to the spear-in-the-face position. Nash looked back at Livi. Her eyelids looked like they weighed ten pounds each and she was barely winning the battle to keep them up. For the first time since he’d known her, she looked like she needed some makeup.
He smiled and shrugged at her, wishing there was more he could do than wait, then he turned back to see what Adam was up to. He had led the Hoplite leader to a distance where they could speak without being overheard, but they didn’t appear to be speaking. Adam held a tattered card in his hand, slightly bigger than an old-fashioned business card. Black Kettle looked at it, then back into Adam’s face, then finally took the card and read it. His eyes widened and he appeared to read it again.
“Never in my life …” said Black Kettle. He looked intently into Adam’s eyes. “Are you sure, Adam? This? Now? For them?”
Adam nodded once.
Black Kettle rubbed his jaw and read the card again. Muttering something Nash couldn’t hear, he tore a corner of the card off, then shoved it back at Adam. With apparent disgust, he turned back to the standoff and as he approached, his men parted. He stared Livi down and she perked up a bit, not backing down from the stare. Nash noticed her fangs weren’t triggered and he wondered if she was being wise, or if she was just too exhausted.
Still eyeballing her, he motioned for his men to lower their spears and said, “Scan and search them.” He handed the scanner to one of his men and stepped back with his arms folded, glaring at Nash.
Was that it then? Had Adam’s magic card given them a free pass?
One Hoplite put the scanner to Nash’s face as the others grabbed packs from all of them without asking permission or excusing how roughly they treated their packs.
A Mutiny of Marauders Page 14