Resistance

by Alex Janaway

‘Are you well?’ he persisted. Nadena’s look was unfocussed, confused.

  ‘Sabin?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me.’

  ‘They killed my family.’

  ‘I know, my love.’

  ‘I’ve lost them all,’ she whispered.

  He reached over and gripped her wrist.

  ‘Not all. Not all,’ he said.

  ‘She smiled wanly. Then looked down at Brynne and hugged her close.

  ‘Where are we going, Sabin?’

  ‘A long way from here. Somewhere we can be safe.’

  ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘I know.’

  Me too.

  Fillion knelt by the stream and removed his bandage. He hissed as he pulled the sticky material away from his wound. Underneath it was a red mess of dried and congealed blood. He gently probed at the edges of the wound. Fuck. That shitting hurt. He took the bandage and submerged it in the water, working it together to clean it as best he could.

  ‘You need to let me see to that,’ said Nadena.

  Fillion looked up and smiled at her. She sat under a tree, nursing Brynne. The two horses were nearby, heads down, both drinking.

  ‘Did we pack a needle and thread?’ he asked.

  ‘I did,’ she replied. She lay Brynne down on the ground and walked across to him, rummaging in her pocket. She produced a small leather wallet. He recognised it as the one she carried with her back from Tissan.

  ‘Try and clean that wound,’ she said. He did as he was bid and used his bandage to dab at the hole. He looked up and watched her thread a thin piece of twine through a needle head.

  ‘That is going to hurt,’ he said. He really didn’t want that needle going anywhere near him.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she agreed. She sounded like her old self. The elf he had first encountered on the wagon train.

  ‘Shouldn’t you let a round wound heal to the air?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘Look at it,’ she ordered.

  He stared down at the wound. The area around it was much cleaner so the extent of the damage was now clear. There was an opening four inches across, a jagged long line, roughly horizontal. Somehow he had got it into his head that he had been punctured, not slashed.

  ‘Alright. Not as bad as I thought,’ he admitted.

  ‘Bad enough. Your face is white. You have lost a lot of blood. I don’t know how you haven’t passed out by now.’

  ‘I had to stay awake. I had to get us out of there.’

  Nadena bit her lower lip. ‘You can stop cleaning. Lie down on your side.’

  He adjusted his position, brushing some detritus away from the ground, and lay down on his side.

  ‘How is your head?’ she asked.

  ‘Worse than my side.’

  ‘Then we’ll look at that next.’ Her tone was formal, businesslike.

  She started work.

  ‘Shit. Ow. Shit!’ He felt, sharp stinging pain, the like of which he could barely take.

  ‘Sabin. Peace. You swear like a dwarf.’

  ‘Can you blame me?’

  ‘No.’

  Another sharp stab of pain. He felt his flesh being tugged together.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘West.’

  ‘Why not south?’

  ‘Because they would expect that.’

  ‘The dwarves?’

  ‘Yes. And their allies.’

  ‘Allies?’

  More stabbing and tugging.

  ‘Ahhh,’ Fillion sucked air in and out through his nose for a few seconds, waiting for the pain to subside. ‘Yes. There was no way they were working alone. How could they be?’

  ‘Who would support them, Sabin?’

  ‘I don’t know. But they jumped me in the Parliament. They killed Ezra, Tekla. Two guards.’

  ‘And you fought them off?’

  ‘Yes. And you see the result. I escaped with my life, barely.’

  ‘How many were there?’

  Damn but she was persistent. ‘Where?’ he asked. Perhaps he could use his exhaustion as a cause for his confusion.

  ‘At the Parliament. How many attacked you?’

  ‘Uh. Two I think.’

  ‘You killed them?’

  ‘Yes. I told you that.’

  ‘And there was one at our house?’

  ‘At least.’

  He felt a final hard tug and Nadena leaned in close, using her teeth to bite off the twine. At last, the pain subsided.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  She rocked back on to her haunches and cocked her head with a quizzical look, her eyes unfocussed.

  ‘It makes no sense,’ she said.

  Fillion grunted in response.

  ‘None of it does.’

  She shook her head. ‘That’s not what I mean.’

  ‘What do you mean, then?’ he said, pushing himself up slowly. He felt dizzy and closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass. When he opened them she was looking at him intently.

  ‘Why they attacked you in the Parliament. That place is so well guarded.’

  Too clever by half. That was Nadena.

  He sighed heavily and shrugged. ‘I truly cannot answer that, Nadena. I have been too busy trying to keep us alive.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Yes, of course. You did all you could.’

  That was better.

  ‘I didn’t do enough,’ he said softly.

  Nadena bit her lip and tears started to form in her eyes.

  She turned her head away and wiped a hand across her brow. He watched her chest expand as she took a shuddering breath. Then she reached out and took a small pot from the satchel. Unscrewing the cap she placed her finger into it. It came away covered with green ointment.

  She turned towards him again.

  ‘This is going to sting,’ she said with a strained smile. ‘But it will protect you against infection.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Fillion. She had used the same salve on him on the wagon journey to the Heartlands. A long time ago.

  As she ran her finger over the stitches and the ointment penetrated the wound. It hurt like a bastard, just like she had promised.

  ‘Is Brynne alright?’ she asked.

  He looked over to his daughter. Little arms waved in the air and little legs waggled under the wrapping.

  ‘She’s fine.’

  ‘We were so lucky,’ said Nadena. ‘That assassin, whoever they were. They left Brynne and I until last. I understand that they would want to kill my father. I know what it means. But to kill all of us as well? They stalked the house, one end to the other, finding my family. We could have been the first to die.’

  ‘But you weren’t,’ said Fillion.

  ‘Let’s take a look at that head,’ she said.

  Now this was the part he had least been looking forward to.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t,’ he said.

  ‘No choice.’

  ‘Alright. Do it,’ he sighed.

  She reached up and began to unwind the bandage. He closed his eyes. Her intake of breath was all he needed to know.

  ‘That bad, huh?’

  A pause.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Fixable?’

  Another pause.

  He felt the pressure of her finger and he shied away. She uttered a ‘Tsch.’

  ‘You ear is almost hanging off. The blade sliced you in the head and down. Another inch and your ear would have been cut clean off. That would have been better, in a way.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because I am going to have to try and stitch this back in place.’

  Wonderful.

  ‘Just do it, Nadena. Just get it done.’ Perhaps after that the questions would stop, and they could finally move on.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – CADE

  Cade studied the map. The detail was poor at best. They were still on the road. A road at any rate, she wasn’t sure which one it was. How many weeks now? Months? At least two. Either way the winter was almost
here. The skies were grey today and a westerly wind blew cold air down from the mountains far to the southwest. She climbed off the wagon and walked over to Devlin and his people. They were clustered beneath a small copse of oak trees, the branches swaying gently, shedding leaves over people and horse alike.

  Devlin was bent over a patch of cleared earth. He had a stick and was pointing at a number of pieces of stone and moss forming some sort of pattern. She had become accustomed to seeing these impromptu creations. All very military.

  Devlin looked up at her approach. He was quite the grizzled commander now. He still sported his stolen armour, still carried the axe on his back. He also bore a leather patch over his left eye and a nasty scar running vertically down from his forehead on to the top of his cheek. It was still sore, red and puckered. He nodded at her and continued his briefing. She listened in, trying to look interested; it was the done thing, apparently.

  ‘This valley affords us the best defensive opportunity we’ve had for a long time,’ he said prodding the largest piece of moss. ‘We would be fools not to use it.’

  He pointed at a line in the dirt that Cade presumed was the road.

  ‘After this, our scouts say we will reach the Brevis Sea, and from there we have to make a decision. Follow the water, head south for the Highlands or head north to the Riverlands.’ He looked up at Cade. ‘Either way, we have to do enough damage to get a clean break. We can’t take any more winnowing.’

  Wasn’t that the truth? Two months of running and fighting, running and fighting. Folk were dead on their feet. Cade knew that most folk were beyond caring. They were just putting one foot in front of the other. The column was harried daily by dwarf outriders, waiting for their moment to swoop in on a group of stragglers. They were like a pack of wild dogs, looking for weakness in the human herd. Barely a day went by when their numbers weren’t thinned. Hundreds dead. It meant the column had to group closer together for protection, but it also slowed them down.

  Devlin commanded a group of fighters who were more than just brawlers now, they were hardened and canny. Laying traps, ambushes and the like and, when necessary, forming a skirmish line at the rear of the column, going toe to toe with dwarves. It had become a weird game, almost. The dwarves had followed them further than Cade had expected them to. Stubborn bastards. They must be as strung out as the Tissans, they certainly didn’t have enough numbers to crush the humans, but they weren’t letting go either.

  ‘Cade?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Yes. Great plan.’

  Devlin stood back and folded his arms. Those around him grinned. ‘Which part?’

  Cade sighed.

  ‘Oh, the bit where we win. That’s my favourite.’

  ‘Yes. About that,’ said Devlin shaking his head. ‘I think we’ve reached a point where we need to end this. The dwarf cavalry has been bleeding us for too long. But they have not been reinforced. I’d estimate there are no more than two hundred left in pursuit.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Cade asked.

  ‘Maybe they went after the other columns first? Who knows? Either way, we should take this opportunity.’

  ‘And see what comes next?’ she asked.

  Devlin nodded.

  Cade grunted. ‘You are starting to sound like me.’ She hunkered down and studied the plan in front of her. ‘Talk me through it again.’

  ‘You know this is a dumb idea, right?’ asked Miriam.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Cade, though she knew exactly what Miriam meant.

  ‘Why are we looking to start a fight?’

  ‘Because.’

  Miriam looked at her as if she was mad.

  Cade shrugged. ‘Look, I’m bored, alright?’

  ‘Bored?’ Miriam threw her hands up in the air. ‘You are bored? Why didn’t you just say so? There was plenty of work going with organising stuff.’

  ‘That’s your job, and Sent’s and the other folk. Isn’t that right, Issar? Issar?’

  ‘Yes, Cade. Whatever you say. But can I ask, what am I doing here?’

  ‘It’s a fight, isn’t it?’

  ‘Cade, I don’t like fighting.’

  She waved his comment away. ‘Devlin assures me we’ve got a really good chance.’

  ‘Of dying?’ asked Issar, straight-faced.

  ‘Issar, were you always this negative?’ she asked, adding extra levity to her voice.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Bah. Seriously, it’ll be fine. Besides. I wanted the old crew back together again, just one last time. We make it through this, and I reckon we’ll be in the clear.’

  ‘That’s bollocks for a start,’ grumped Anyon.

  ‘Have I ever let you down?’ she asked. Hah! They couldn’t argue with that. It was still true though. Most of the faces here had been with her since the start.

  Issar shook his head and picked up the crossbow.

  ‘How many are there?’ he asked.

  ‘Devlin reckons two hundred, max,’ Cade replied.

  ‘We’re outnumbered, then,’ observed Issar.

  ‘Quality counts,’ said Cade, waggling her finger.

  She stood up from their little cookfire and walked around the side of the wagon, inspecting the damage, a rear wheel missing from the right axle. The animals were unhitched and grazing off to the side. The wagon was parked on the side of the road. A second wagon set a little bit beyond, this one in working order. Trent sat by another small fire, making busy with fixing the first wagon’s missing wheel. Including herself, ten Tissans made up the party. A nice, easily digestible number. Krste stood a little way along the road facing east, looking for trouble.

  The road continued past them leading up a gentle slope and out. The valley sides were thickly wooded and steep. The valley was quite broad where it started a half mile further east, but it quickly funnelled. A perfect choke point. The road itself, and the grass and bush verges to either side, were trampled with the passing of thousands the day before. And now they were the only humans left in the valley. Just as it had to be. The dwarves weren’t stupid, they’d see this valley for what it was, and would make sure of it before they entered it. That meant someone had to be the sacrificial lambs. Cade wondered just how it transpired that it ended up falling to her? Wasn’t she, like, the leader of this bunch? Hadn’t there been a time when she had been indispensable? Less so now she had plenty of other people running everything. But still, she’d told them to run everything!

  ‘Ah, shit,’ she muttered to herself. Who was she kidding? It had to be her, because it was the only way to keep everyone else in line. They might start questioning her life choices. Or worse still, start thinking about stealing her booze stash. She couldn’t have that. Nope. It was yet again time for Cade to step up and show everyone what’s what. There was only one way this plan was going to work and that was to show the dwarves exactly what they needed to see. A group of humans, left behind in the wake of the column. And it had to be real. No bullshit, no set-up. She walked over to Krste. The man looked deeply worried.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

  ‘I got a prickly feeling in the back of my neck. Like I’m being watched.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Cade looked back along the road, and either side of it, at the trees that crowded the valley sides. ‘You probably are,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Huh?’ he said, giving her a nervous look.

  ‘You hear that?’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That sound,’ said Cade. A gentle rhythm like a distant thunder, or perhaps drumming. Either way it was growing heavier.

  ‘I’m feeling something under my feet,’ said Krste.

  ‘That’ll be the vibration of two hundred ponies charging towards us,’ she observed, taking a moment to look up into the sky. It had brightened a little, and the wind had died down.

  ‘Can we head back to the wagons?’ asked Krste, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

  ‘It’s not like you to r
un from a fight,’ she said.

  ‘I’d rather fight from back there,’ he replied.

  She grunted. ‘Go on, then, bugger off.’

  ‘You not coming?’ he said, backing up.

  She crossed her arms and planted her feet.

  ‘Nah. Better if they get a good look at me.’

  Krste looked doubtful. He started to walk back towards her. Nice of him.

  ‘I said bugger off. I’ll probably be fine.’

  Krste clearly didn’t believe a word of it but nonetheless jogged back to the others. The rest of them had also picked up on the impending shitstorm and were reacting. Crossbows and spears were pulled out from the wagons and the second one was being drawn up to the first to make a better defensive position. Trent dropped the wheel he had been working on and he and Anyon picked it up, rolled it back to the axle and levered it back into place. There was no point in pretending anymore. The dwarves were coming whatever happened.

  As the seconds ticked by and the sound grew louder, Cade started to question her decision. Maybe it was the cold, unsettled feeling in her stomach that made her feel like she wanted to throw up. Or the screaming voice inside her head, telling her to stop being so bloody stupid. It wasn’t too late, she could still run. But that wasn’t her style, was it? She could talk her way out of anything. Couldn’t she?

  That screaming voice reminded her of the scars she now carried. Oh yes. Those.

  From further down the valley they started to emerge, even as the sound lessened. A ragged line of ponies broke free of the tree-lined slope on either side of the valley floor and a larger knot came walking slowly along the road. They had spotted Cade, a juicy target unprotected and unarmed. They expected a trap and stopped their charge in response. They were fifty yards away when she raised her hands.

  ‘Morning! Any of you lot speak our language?’

  A hand went up from one of the lead riders and the whole horde reined in. Cade felt the tension in her butt cheeks lessen just a fraction.

  ‘Just wanted a chat, that’s all,’ she shouted, in her most neighbourly voice.

  There was a conversation among the dwarves. Several riders were sent into the trees on either side, picking their way up the slope, looking for any surprises. A few moments later a single dwarf kicked his pony forwards and closed the distance to something like ten yards. Cade kept her hands up and smiled. The dwarf looked a little ragged, his kit was worn, and both he and his pony were lean. Life was as hard for them as it was for the Tissans. A state of affairs Cade could use. He laid his loaded crossbow across his saddle, reached up and undid his helmet, an all-in-one piece that had a faceplate, revealing a dirty, beardless face. Oh, it was a female. She had never seen one this close before.