Four Beheadings and a Funeral

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Four Beheadings and a Funeral Page 26

by Ugland, Eric


  A few times, we came up against professional soldiers, but none of them bothered with us. And down near the mob, the groups were more interested in channeling people to the mob than confronting anyone. As long as we went parallel to the main avenue, we didn’t risk running into the mob itself, and we could keep moving.

  I was starting to think we’d luck out and make it without much of a problem. Maybe we’d get to the main gates and waltz right through. When I saw the city walls, I smiled. I was feeling good.

  Naturally, it couldn’t be that easy. It can never be that easy. The gates were closed, and a line of soldiers preventing anyone from getting out. These soldiers were part of the city’s garrison; they had the Osterstadt crest on their uniforms. The Legion soldiers that normally served alongside the guard were gone — not surprising. What was surprising were the pools of blood, and a discarded Legion helmet off to one side. I shuddered.

  A gilded carriage wrought with incredible carvings rocketed by us, so close I had to pull Eliza out of the way.

  It screeched to a halt at the line of soldiers, the horses rearing while the driver struggled to get them under control.

  Two guards moved forward and took hold of the horses bridles, while a third walked up to the driver.

  We were too far away to hear what passed between the driver and the guard, but it was pretty clear that driver wasn’t going to get through the gate. The soldiers started laughing and calling out to each other.

  Then one of them moved toward the door of the carriage.

  The driver yelled out, and a woman burst out of the door on the opposite side. She was wearing a large gown, which looked like it would be hell to run in. And yet, she was sprinting, and getting some real distance.

  An arrow sprouted from the driver’s neck, blood squirting around the fletching, and the driver slumped to the side, still trying to pull a sword free from his belt.

  Two guards charged after the woman, their heavy hobnail boots clacking on the cobblestones.

  “Do I intervene?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. I also knew that I wasn’t going to pay attention to the answer.

  I stepped out one step from the alley so I had a clear view of the action. I pulled the axe from my belt, took aim, and threw.

  The axe flew true, and thunked into the head of the lead chaser.

  His limbs just went, and he crashed to the ground, a heap of jelly. More or less.

  The woman wasn’t concerned with what was happening behind her — she was just sprinting.

  The other guard skidded to a stop, trying to catch sight of whomever had the temerity to intercede.

  I waved, and held out my hand.

  My axe shot across the open space and smacked into my palm.

  I threw it again.

  The guard raced back to the safety of the group, but he didn’t get far enough. The axe caught up to him, and chopped right into his neck. He dropped to the ground, trying to call out for help. But the soldiers were busy pulling a pudgy elderly man from the carriage, a man who was stabbing with a dagger, but not really doing a whole lot. The soldiers grew tired of dodging the old man’s paltry attacks, threw him on the ground, and stabbed him in the gut.

  He dropped his knife, tried to hold his wound shut, and then groaned in pain while rocking back and forth. The guards were quick to move into the carriage, pulling out small chests, sacks of coins, and passing out bottles of wine.

  The girl tripped, and fell to the ground.

  “Really?” I asked. “Everyone else, cross the street while they’re looting.”

  “Where are we going?” Eliza asked in a whisper.

  “I’m going to help that girl to her feet,” I said, “and then we’re going to let Emeline’s dad know about her.”

  “Wait—” Emeline said, but I was already off.

  I sprinted in a half-crouch, moving across the street until I got to the girl. I picked her up with one arm around her waist and one around her mouth. She, as was really a natural reaction to such an action, screamed. Hence, you know, the hand around her mouth, which did a pretty good job of muffling her.

  I did not expect her to bite me.

  “I’m trying to save you, dammit,” I hissed.

  She didn’t let go, but she stopped biting down quite as hard.

  I got her across the street, slid to my knees, and set her against a wall. I crawled quickly back to the corner, and just peeked out.

  The guards were just starting to realize some of their buddies were down for the count. They yelled at the guards farther up on the wall, asking if any of them had seen what happened to the woman who ran.

  No one had.

  “We’re clear,” I said. “Keep moving.”

  The young woman looked at me, then at the others. I was pretty sure she was about to have a freak out, but then Eliza took the woman’s hand.

  “Lady Paulet,” Eliza said softly, “would you come with us?”

  The woman blinked a few times, and then recognition flooded her eyes.

  “Lady Northwoods,” she started, then swallowed a sob. She tried to speak again, and then burst into tears.

  I reached over and put my hand over her mouth.

  “Not the time,” I said. “We need to go.”

  Eliza nodded, then looked into Lady Paulet’s eyes.

  “Can you remain silent while we walk?” she asked.

  Lady Paulet nodded, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “We are ready,” Eliza said to me.

  Despite what I’d told Emeline, and the group, my new plan wasn’t necessarily to visit Emeline’s father and get him to smuggle us out. I couldn’t imagine that going well, considering that the man probably blamed me for his daughter’s death. Sure, she was alive, but, you know, it was already turning into a weird night.

  As soon as we were move again, I reached up to see if Bear was on my shoulder.

  Someone small smacked my hand.

  “Watch what you’re grabbing,” she hissed.

  “Bear,” I whispered, “do you have some way of getting in touch with Fritz?”

  “No,” she whispered back.

  “How did, I mean, how’d you guys organize the pick-up on the temple?”

  “Paired paper with Nikolai.”

  “Give it,” I said.

  “Eliza has it, but I doubt Nikolai is going to be looking at that exact piece of paper right now.”

  “Why?’’

  “You mean besides it being night and he is not expecting to hear from us?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think those are probably the only reasons but pretty good ones. He’d also have to be able to talk to Fritz which, would require Fritz being in Coggeshall and not sleeping. Or hunting. Or hanging around the build site. So, uh, if your plan is to get us out of here via Fritz, come up with a plan B.”

  “This was plan B. Plan A was getting out through the fucking gate.”

  “Fucking move on to Plan C.”

  “Depending on me for thinking is a worse idea than either Plan A or B. Fuck.”

  I stopped walking, and let everyone bump into each other as we slunk along the side streets.

  “Okay friends, Plan C. We’ve no choice but to visit Emeline’s dad,” I said. “Want to lead the way?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Emeline said.

  “Do it anyway?”

  She grumbled, but nodded. We were on our way, sneaking through the streets again.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  As we got to the gnarlier side of town, things actually calmed down somewhat. Maybe because the residents had already gone off and joined the mob, or maybe realized how pointless being in a mob was and weren’t going to bother with it. Tough to tell.

  We still walked to the side of the roads, trying our best to stay in shadow. In short order, we were in the dank and dingy square that held our destination: The Murdered Bishop tavern.

  Unlike everything else we’d passed, the Murdered Bishop was still ope
n. I could see a few dim lights struggling against the dingy windows.

  Emeline stopped and stared across the empty square.

  I was in the back, and had to walk around to meet her.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t planning on doing this,” she said.

  “Telling him you’re still alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “The longer we stay out here,” I said, “the harder it’s going to be to get out of the city.”

  “I know,” she hissed at me. “I get it, just — just give me a minute.”

  “I’m sorry, but you can take a minute later, Emeline. We don’t have time for this now.”

  She glared at me, lips thin. I could feel her rage. Her fists were clenched, knuckles white.

  “You can hit me,” I said. “It’s fine. I get it. You want to unleash that anger, do it. But do it now so we can go.”

  She smacked me across the face. “Fuck you,” she said.

  I nodded at her, not exactly expecting to have been hit. But, hey, I offered it up.

  She turned, stood up straight, and stalked across the square.

  “What was all that about?” Eliza asked.

  “This is going to be an unpleasant evening, Lady Northwoods,” I said.

  “You mean it will get worse?”

  “Probably.”

  We hurried to catch up with Emeline, dodging plenty of refuse and waste along the way. We were a long way from Kansas, and the residents here seemed to revel in how gross their neighborhood could be.

  Emeline didn’t pause at the door. She just pushed right in.

  I was right behind her. I braced myself for a big reaction from the patrons of the bar, who I knew were all just lookouts for Philomon, Emeline’s crime-lord of a father. But no one even gave a second look.

  The old woman behind the bar looked over us, and gave the barest of nods.

  “You know the way, girl,” the woman said, and went back to her drink.

  Emeline nodded, walked around the bar, and down the normally hidden stairway.

  Everyone followed, since no one bothered to stop our little troop going downstairs.

  Philomon’s basement hideout still looked like a nicer version of the upstairs, so little had changed. Philomon was still sitting at his table, still wearing a silly hat. Giles, the mountain of rage and muscle that even made me take a moment to think about taking him on, still stood behind his master. There was even still a card game going on.

  Emeline’s father had a drink in front of him, something steaming in a glass cup with a wooden handle. He watched as we came down his stairs, and then gestured at the empty seats in front of him.

  “Just the duke to start,” he said softly but firmly.

  Emeline gave me a look, then a smirk, and leaned against the banister.

  I ignored her and went to sit with the crime lord.

  “The noble duke returns,” Philomon said.

  “Just a quick visit,” I replied.

  “It would seem you’ve been busy in the city.”

  “There are just so many things to see and do in this fair town.”

  “I suppose I should try to approach my home from the point of view of a tourist occasionally.”

  “The Emerald Sea is always a sight.”

  “Ah, but there’s been so many fights there lately, and I’d hate to get involved in that nonsense. Seems like people might expect me there, and then, perhaps, do something while I’m busy trying to be a hero.”

  “Is that what happened?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure many things have happened. There’s quite a bit going on in the city tonight.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Have you decided how you will react?”

  “I mean, my first step is getting some friends out of the city.”

  “Might be tough. I’ve heard the gates are closed. Locked up.”

  “They’re also a little trigger happy.”

  “A little bird has mentioned that some of the guards have been promised looting rights instead of bonus pay. I suppose it’s about the same.”

  “Is it?”

  “Two sides of the same coin.”

  “Not to me they aren’t.”

  Philomon considered that for a second, and took a sip from his mug. “But you are a different man, eh? A man who will go through hell to get a friend out of prison. A man who conquered a dungeon. A man who tries to be the hero. These men are not heroes, Duke of Coggeshall. These are just men. Men who can get a fortune tonight, and change their lives from shitty to merely crappy. All they have to do is hurt the rich.”

  “You can try and defend their actions—”

  “Oh, I am not defending them. I will profit from them soon enough, but I am trying to explain to you who seems to have risen above that station.”

  “I’ve been in that station, bub. Now I choose a different path.”

  “And bully for you,” he said, raising his drink in a mocking toast. “But I fear you do not see why it is important to understand those men in the light of this situation you’ve found yourself within.”

  “They want gold.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “I want to get them out of the city,” I said, pointing over my shoulder.

  He looked over the group.

  Eliza gave a polite wave. That made Philomon smile, and he waved back.

  “Interesting group you’ve acquired,” he said. “But I see my daughter amongst those attempting to exit.”

  “That’s her.”

  “And here I thought I told you not to bring her back into the city. Something you agreed to.”

  “I agreed to bring her to safety. I made no promises about what would happen after that. And I brought her to safety. I gave her a home with walls and lots of guards. She made her own choices after that, and—”

  “And she came back to Osterstadt.”

  “She did.”

  “Where she died.”

  “You’ll have to get that story from her.”

  “And if I want it from you?”

  “I can’t tell it. I don’t really know it. I’m not that bright. And a bad memory to boot.”

  “I seem to recall you being rather daft in our first interchange. You are…less so now.”

  “Thank you?”

  “It is a compliment. A little one,” he said, holding his fingers apart about a quarter inch.

  “Thank you a little bit?”

  Philomon smiled. “I try not to like you,” he finally said. “It would be better for business if I didn’t. Then I could just betray you. Turn you over to those who are already looking for you and yours. And yet, I find I like you more than I like them.”

  “Can you tell me what’s going on in Osterstadt? Who’s behind all this?”

  “Oh, I can. But will I? No. Not my story to tell, is it?”

  “Touché.”

  “And you want to leave Osterstadt, right when it’s getting interesting?”

  “I would prefer to be here on my own,” I said. “Get those among my friends who are noncombatants out of the way.”

  “So you can massacre without concern?”

  I smiled. “Something along those lines. I’m on the hunt for The Master.”

  “Oh, him. I believe that is something my daughter has been interested in. She’s roped you into her gambit, then.”

  “You know the Master was behind the death of your daughter.”

  “The one that’s standing right behind you?”

  “Right, uh, I guess not that one. Well, I mean, the, uh, she’ll have to tell you.”

  “And you intend to kill this The Master?”

  “I do,” I said. He was being awfully patronizing, but I kind of just had to take it.

  “But only after you’ve gotten these lovely people out of my lovely city?”

  “Being that they’re imperial citizens, I’m worried they’ll be targeted by the mob currently in control of your, uh,
lovely city.”

  “The mob is not in control. Not in the slightest.”

  “Oh. So, um, you are?”

  I knew I was laying the ‘gee, I’m dim’ on pretty thick, and Philomon’s smile told me he knew I was only playing at it. But he seemed to want to play this game, so here we were.

  “No,” he said. “If you can’t see what’s happening, it’s not up to me to tell you.”

  “Ruin the surprise?”

  “Yes. It would do that.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. “So, have we done enough jibber-jabber that we can actually drill down to the meat?”

  “Your mixing of metaphors is bizarre and ungainly, and though I think I know what you mean, it pains me to admit it.”

  “I want you to—”

  “I know what you want, Montana of Coggeshall. You have not been shy at saying it. I have been shy to agree to your demands, because it forces me to choose sides, and I loathe choosing sides. It robs me of a market. Of an income stream. And I don’t like leaving money on the table when I don’t have to. And yet. Here you are, forcing my hand. So I chose to have a foolish chat with you while I thought instead of watching you and Giles duke it out. Though that particular brand of entertainment is certainly looking better than this redundant and circular conversation.”

  “I’m sorry to force the matter. It just seems that we don’t have time on our side—”

  “As of yet, we do not have a side. There is you and them and me. We are separate, and the more you try and force the bond, the more likely I am to deny you everything I can just because I can.”

  “Can we just cut the bullshit already?” Emeline called out. She came to the table and sitting down.

  “Ah, my lovely daughter,” Philomon said quietly through semi-clenched teeth. He was clearly not excited to see her. “I seem to recall being told you were dead.”

  “That was something that may have happened.”

  “And here you are to reveal the truth.”

  “Here I am.”

  “So where is the truth?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It always is. And yet.”

  “And yet what?”

  “And yet I am waiting to hear it.”

  “You’re going to be waiting a long fucking time then, dad.”

  Philomon sighed. “Why must you vex me so?”

 

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