Bitter Gold Hearts

by Glen Cook

  “In retrospect, probably not. But at the time Lord Gameleon was a last resort.”

  “Hardly. But let’s not fight about it. That’s it for tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “I’ll need you again tomorrow. Early. We’re all going to walk this through.”

  She gave me a puzzled look as she rose. What chica­nery was I planning?

  “Find the Baronet and send him in,” I said.

  I’d grown impatient and irritable by the time the door opened. And that opening didn’t make anything better. Willa Dount and Raver Styx came in, the Stormwarden looking like one of the tempests she brewed. “Will you want to question the staff, Mr. Garrett?”

  “Where’s your husband?”

  “I don’t doubt the answer to that question would be quite interesting. He left the house shortly after you arrived. When last seen he was entering the house of Lord Gameleon, his half-brother, who lives across the street. Lord Gameleon admits that he was there earlier but denies that he is now. About the staff?”

  There was no juice left. My candle had begun to gut­ter. “The hell with them. I can tie the knot on it without them. I’m going home to get some sleep. Meet me at my place at eight, ready for a trek upcountry. Don’t let anybody else wander off. Make a production of leaving so anyone interested will know something is up.”

  “As you will, Mr. Garrett. That will be all for tonight, then, Willa.”

  I asked, “Amber, are you coming or staying?”

  Staring at the floor, she replied, “I’ll go with you. But I need to get some things first.”

  I guess that was as close as she could come to telling her mother to pick her nose with her elbow. The Stormwarden developed a severe tick in her left cheek but she said nothing. She understood battles lost as well as battles won. The first thing I did when we got to the house was write a letter to Morley Dotes. I had one of the neighbor kids deliver it. Then I brought the Dead Man up to date and feigned an effort to pry a few secrets out of him just to keep him feeling wanted. I joined Amber in the kitchen, where we shared one of Dean’s finer productions. Then I stashed myself away for the night. My dreams, which I usually don’t recall, weren’t the kind I’ll treasure forever.

  __LI__

  Dean rousted me out in plenty of time to get ready. We breakfasted well and packed our field rations. I took a look at my arsenal and picked a couple of lethal engines suitable for a lady. I made Amber practice with them until her mother’s cavalcade arrived. A thoughtful woman, the Stormwarden. She had some­how ascertained that I didn’t have transportation of my own. She rolled up with a coach, a carriage, and a spare horse. She was in the coach. Willa Dount was driving the carriage. Amber stepped up on the seat beside her. What a lighthearted and friendly drive that would be. I went around the front of the horse and looked him in the eye. He looked back. I saw none of the tribe’s usual malice. He obviously hadn’t heard of me. The Stormwarden had shown some sense in another direction. I had expected to have to nag her into sending her army home, but she’d brought only the two men atop her coach. I couldn’t squawk about them.

  I suppose when you’re a Stormwarden, you only need guards for show.

  “You lead the way,” I told Domina Dount. Her face was old stone as she nodded and started her team. Am­ber settled facing backward when she saw that I would ride rearguard, though most of the time the Stormwarden’s coach obscured our views of one another. Willa Dount set a brisk pace, occasionally slowing so her boss could catch up. I stayed fifty yards behind the coach. In the city I watched the citizenry watch it. In the country I watched farmers. And as we moved upcountry I kept mentally reviewing my maps. I didn’t see a single place that looked suitable for what I suspected had happened. I thought about moving up beside Willa Dount. She might have given something away.

  Sure. Like stones flinch.

  But I had a reason for lying back.

  Morley overtook me two-thirds of the way to the deadly crossroads. At that point the road passed among trees and travelers couldn’t be watched from afar. He dared rein in and talk.

  “They’re back there,” he told me. “Gameleon and six men. They won’t be easy.”

  “They trying to catch up?”

  “No.”

  “Good. We’ll put everybody in the sack at once.”

  “You’re crazy, Garrett. Seven of them and no telling what up ahead and you’re talking like you’ve got them by the shorthairs?”

  “All they’ve got is numbers. I’ve got a stormwarden. Hustle on up and tell Saucerhead.”

  Morley resumed his lone-rider act in a hurry. It was coming together beautifully. I just hoped I wouldn’t be in the middle when it crunched.

  I wasn’t the most pleased of men when we reached the crossroads. 1 hadn’t spotted one place that fulfilled the criteria for my concept of what had become of most of the ransom gold — though I’d seen a few side roads and whatnot that would later bear further examination. If there was a later. If Amber wasn’t more defeatist than I was becoming. I made the mistake, for a short time, of thinking I saw a chance for the big hit. You don’t want to fall into that trap. It can shatter your perspective. It can narrow your focus until the rest of the world slides out of touch.

  “Hold up!” I yelled at Willa Dount. She had turned west without pausing. My fault. I hadn’t told her we would be stopping. We got out of traffic’s way. I dismounted. Where was Saucerhead? I’d expected him to be waiting. He stepped out of the woods on the south side of the road. From the corner of my eye 1 noted Willa Dount’s surprise. I joined him. “What have we got?”

  “You were right. She’s down there.”

  “Alone?”

  “Nope. Company, and plenty of it. One guy by himself showed up about midnight last night. Then a mob of ogre breeds got there just before I left.”

  “Skredli?”

  He nodded.

  “How many?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Crask and Sadler behaving?”

  “They aren’t stupid, Garrett. They know their limita­tions.”

  “I suppose. I’d better tell the Stormwarden. You scout out a workable approach?”

  “Sure. What about those guys behind you?”

  “They can take care of themselves.” I waited while a string of goat carts trundled past, trotted to the Stormwarden’s coach, and invited myself inside.

  “Why have we stopped, Mr. Garrett?”

  I explained. “I didn’t expect it to turn into so large a party. Otherwise, everything’s come together. Any sug­gestions?”

  “The man who arrived last night. My husband?”

  “Probably. My friend wouldn’t know him by sight.”

  “Does Lord Gameleon know where he’s going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He may need someone to follow.”

  “We can’t sneak up on anybody going straight in.”

  “I realize that, Mr. Garrett.”

  “I’ve got a little help but not enough to handle four-to-one odds.”

  “You have me.”

  What was that worth? I didn’t ask. “All right. My friend and I will sneak up through the woods. You be careful.”

  “Take Amber. And you be careful, Mr. Garrett. I have to salvage something from this disaster.”

  “She’ll be all right.” I left the coach. “Amber. You come with me.”

  The Stormwarden left the coach on the other side. She said something to the men on top. The driver nodded. The other descended. He and Raver Styx boarded the carriage. It rolled away as Amber joined Saucerhead and me.

  “What are we doing?” she asked.

  “Going for a walk in the woods.” I tied my mount’s reins to the coach. We ducked into the trees. Just in time. Lord Gameleon and his boys trotted past. They weren’t in livery and made a big deal of ignoring the coach. When they were gone Saucerhead asked, “She s going straight in?”

  “I guess. We’ll have to hurry. Where’s Morley?
With Crask and Sadler?”

  “Right. Follow me. Miss daPena?”

  “Just lead, Mr. Tharpe. I’ll keep up.”

  __LII__

  Our timing was perfect. We were near the edge of the clearing when Morley appeared out of nowhere. “Not bad for a city boy,” I told him. Crask and Sadler popped up as suddenly. If we’d been unfriendly, we would have been in big trouble. “Anything happening over there?”

  “Lot of screaming.”

  “What?”

  “Started right after I got here. Somebody’s asking some questions. Somebody else isn’t giving the answers they want to hear.”

  I wasn’t surprised.

  Crask said, “Something’s happening.”

  I joined him. From where he stood the farmhouse could be seen plainly. Ogre breeds boiled out, raced across the weedy field toward the gap where the road left the woods. “Their lookout must have spotted the Storm-warden.”

  Someone grunted.

  “They been doing any patrols? Or just watching the road?”

  “Watching the road,” Sadler said. “They’re ogres.”

  “Stupid. The Stormwarden may have overestimated herself. They might kill first and ask questions later.”

  “They’re distracted now,” Saucerhead said. “Be a good time to move up. If we keep low along the downhill side of that swale there, we can get pretty close. Maybe up to the foundation stones where the barn used to be.”

  I recalled a deer trail through the high grass that fol­lowed the route Saucerhead recommended. I looked but I couldn’t see the stones. “You’ve been over there?”

  “Yeah. I had to look in and make sure.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Saucerhead went first, then Crask, then Morley. I told Amber to keep down and sent her next. I followed her. Sadler brought up the rear. We were halfway across when the brouhaha broke out in the woods. We stopped. I said, “That doesn’t sound like ogres running into surprise sorcery.” “No.”

  “Let’s move.”

  As we crouched among the stones, thirty yards from the rear of the house, Skredli’s gang emerged from the woods uphill. They had five or six prisoners.

  “Gameleon,” I said. “What happened to the Storm-warden?”

  “There are twelve breeds up there, Garrett,” Morley said. “In a minute they won’t be able to spot us behind the house. Why don’t we make our move? Be waiting for them inside when they get there?”

  I didn’t like it. But the odds weren’t going to get any better. I checked the others. They all nodded. “Amber, stay put. I’ll holler when it’s safe.”

  She had developed a case of deafness. When we moved toward the back door, she moved with us. I cursed under my breath but there was nothing I could do short of bopping her and laying her out. We reached the house unnoticed. Morley volunteered to lead. Nobody argued. He was the best. We moved. Inside there were three ogres, one woman and Karl daPena, Senior. Morley creamed two of the ogres before they knew they were in trouble. The third tried to yell and only got out a bark before Crask stuck a knife through his throat. Sadler finished the other two. Amber dumped her breakfast.

  “I told you to stay out.” I ground my teeth and exam­ined our prizes. Neither seemed particularly pleased to see us.

  “Frying pan into the fire, eh, Baronet?” Both were strapped into chairs. DaPena was gagged. The woman wasn’t, but she was yelled out. Both had been tortured, and with little finesse.

  “You must be the marvelous Donni Pell. I’ve been anxious to meet you. Right now you don’t look like something that men would kill for.”

  “Cut the sweet talk, Garrett,” Morley said. “They’re coming.”

  I peeked. “That clown Skredli must have raised an army.”

  “We can take them. They have to keep hold of their prisoners.”

  “I like a man with a positive attitude. Why don’t I slide out the back way and you holler when you’ve got them?”

  “You going to mouth your way through the gates of hell or are you going to decide what to do?”

  “Crask, Sadler, you guys get out of sight down that hall. Saucerhead, wait behind the door. Let four or five get in, then slam it and bolt it. Morley and I will jump out from the kitchen. We ought to polish off the bunch before the rest bust in. Amber, you get out back.”

  This time she did what I told her. Nothing like a good scare.

  “And you call me a tactical genius,” Morley grumbled. But he ducked into the kitchen without offering a sugges­tion of his own.

  Even tactical geniuses stumble. When Saucerhead went to slam the door, Skredli and two other breeds were on the transom. He had the strength to bounce two of them back into the yard, but the third got caught between the edge of the door and the frame. He did a lot of yelling and flailing while Saucerhead grunted and strained, trying to shut the door right through him. And Tharpe did manage to hang on while we thumped the five he’d let in.

  Morley chuckled. “Seven to go. Let them in, Saucerhead.”

  Tharpe jumped back. Skredli and the guys stomped in.

  We did expect them to have their cutlery out, ready for carving. We didn’t expect Gameleon’s brunos to help them. They did. “We been suckered, Garrett,” Saucerhead said as he stumbled back past me. Long knife in one hand and head-thumper in the other, fending off two ogres and a man, I fell past a window and shot a quick look to see if help was coming. No stormwarden.

  Had the gang dealt with her already? Had they caught her in a pincer up in the woods?

  I kicked one guy in the groin but not good enough to slow him much. The three pushed me toward the kitchen, keeping me too busy staying alive to keep track of what was happening to everybody else. Win or lose, Skredli and his bunch would get hurt. They were up against the best TunFaire offered.

  Small consolation.

  I got in a solid thump to an ogre’s head as I backed through the kitchen doorway. He reeled, stalling his com­panions. I whirled and dove through a window. I did not land well. The breath went out of me and didn’t want to come back. But I got my feet under me in time to lay a whack on the skull of a guy trying to climb after me. It was no head-breaker, but it discouraged him.

  I limped to the front door, wound up and flung one of the witch’s crystals. Then I held up a wall while my breath caught up with me and the crystal did its deed.

  The uproar inside died.

  When I went in, everybody was folded up puking. I shambled around thumping heads. When I had the bad guys down I scrounged what I could and tied them up. I got done just before the spell wore off. Sitting against a wall, Morley glared and croaked, “Thanks a bloody bunch, Garrett. I’m ruined.”

  “Ingrate. You’re alive.”

  I don’t dare describe the looks the ingrates Crask and Sadler gave me. It was a good thing they had stomachs and a few wounds to patch. I heard sounds outside. I went to the door.

  The Stormwarden was coming. Finally. She left the carriage and strode toward me. I stepped out of her way. She entered, scanned the battleground, sniffed, looked at me suspiciously. I said, “We’re all here now. I’ll get things sorted out and we’ll start.”

  “All right.” She marched over to the Baronet. His chair had overturned during the struggle. She stared down at him briefly, then turned to Donni Pell. “Is this the infamous whore, Mr. Garrett?”

  “I didn’t ask yet. I think so.”

  “She doesn’t look like much, does she?”

  “With females you never know. She might be a whole different act cleaned up and set down where she thought she could work her magic.”

  That got me the darkest look she’d given yet. Meanwhile, Domina Dount just stood in the doorway, for the first time in our acquaintance, at a loss.

  “Saucerhead. Why don’t you get Amber?”

  He gave me a look as loving as the Stormwarden’s, but nodded and went out back. I said, “Stormwarden, I don’t know if it’s within your expertise, but if you can, we’d all appreciate a littl
e healing magic here.”

  “Everyone who faces the Warlords of Venageta must learn elementary field medicinal spells, Mr. Garrett.”

  “Maybe everyone of a certain class.” Amber came in. Her face went gray. I thought she was going to upchuck again. “It gets rough sometimes, Amber. Gut it out. You all right, Saucerhead?”

  “I’ll live, Garrett. Why the hell don’t you ever warn anybody when you’re going to pull something out of your sleeve?” He winced and clapped one hand to his stomach.

  I didn’t bother explaining that if I’d warned him I’d have warned the bad guys too.

  __LIII__

  We dumped the ogres and Brunos in the weeds, live or dead. The farmhouse was still as crowded as a rabbit warren. We found seats for everybody. Only Am­ber and I remained standing. She leaned against the doorframe, too nervous to sit. Though the Stormwarden’s perch was no better than anyone else’s, her manner turned it into a throne.

  She said, “Proceed, Mr. Garrett.”

  “Let’s start with my old buddy Skredli. Skredli, tell the nice people the story you told me at Chodo’s place. Keep in mind that the lady there can make you hurt a lot worse than Chodo ever did.”

  Skredli got fatalistic again. He told his story. The same story.

  Donni Pell was the villain of his piece. She was a wonder to watch as she tried working on him so he would cast her in a better light. Gameleon and daPena were worth watching, too. And Domina Dount, for that matter, as she learned that some things she’d heard but not gut-believed were true.

  When Skredli finished, I looked at Gameleon. “You think you can talk your way out of here?”

  “I’ll have your head.”

  Morley asked, “You want me to knock him around a little to improve his attitude, Garrett? I always wanted to see if blue-blood bones sound different when they break.”

  “I don’t think we’ll need to.”

  “Let me twist his arm a little. How about you, Saucerhead? We could hang him up by the ankles and break him like a wishbone.”

  I snapped, “Knock it off!”

  Raver Styx lifted her left hand and extended it toward Gameleon, palm forward, fingers spread. Her face was bland. But lavender sparks danced between her fingers.