She realised he was doing something very different from what he was meant to do. He was here to find and recruit the Red Bastards, but also take anyone else who would fight. He was doing that but also more. She’d seen him scribbling names on a piece of paper and telling the men to meet at the front gate tomorrow morning. So far, he’d recruited at least thirty men for the princely sum of a single gold piece for one week of their lives. It was a fortune for most of these riffraff. Still, they would be dead in the end, so he could just take it back, but as he’d worked, she heard or read on his lips the same words again and again.
‘Look friend, there will be no fighting, as we have three hundred men inside and the force of the Duke is 1000 strong. He wants the Keep, not a fight. Once we come with a similar force, we’ll sit down with him and give him the Keep. My man is inside and running the fight, and when I arrive with a bag of the Duke’s money, he’ll open the gates and walk on in. It’s not a fight, but a simple show of force.’
If Flint heard the words he did nothing to halt them, but then, Goldie was speaking in Pellosi, and she didn’t know if he’d be able to understand it. The heavy painted door of the tavern swung open hard, and they walked in. She knew them straight away and so did the rest of the patrons, who had been watching this recruitment with some interest. Many of the traders had found their way to the table to offer support, horses, food, and anything else they thought he might buy.
The captain of the Red Bastards was a man who was always called ‘King Bastard’. He had a name, but she couldn’t remember it, though she knew his face well enough. He swaggered up to the table with two men in tow. They all had short swords at their hips and cocky looks, people feared them by a rightly earned reputation. They wore the normal mismatched armour of mercenaries everywhere, but all three had a red bandage tied around their upper arms: it was said they stained them with the blood of their fallen foes, but she knew that was bullshit. Old blood goes brown, she knew well enough, and these were bright crimson.
King Bastard was a tall man for a Pellosi, but still smaller than either of the Northmen, and he was youngish, around thirty five name days, and quite pretty. He had long flowing blonde hair tied in a horsetail, and had three gold teeth that flashed when he smiled, which was a lot. The look of his smug pretty face gave her a shiver up her spine. This one of all had an evil reputation. They had a habit of buying female slaves to come with them on campaigns, and she’d never heard of one coming back alive or wishing they had.
The Bastard sat down in the seat that was quickly made available by the rat-face man who got up and left as soon as they walked in. Goldie smiled at the man and shook his hand as they sat.
‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ Goldie said.
‘I thought this fairly obvious display might be meant to attract our attention. It’s also got the attention of the city guard, who are less than happy with you,’ the man said in a smooth voice, gold teeth flashing.
‘Oh, well, I had to find you fast, and what better way than a table piled with gold coins?’ He asked.
The man eyed the small pile of gold and smiled again. His men were staring at it and she could see them both looking at it, and then to Flint, and wondering if it would be worth just stealing it.
‘So we’ve heard you’ve got a little dust-up you need help with,’ he said.
‘We do, but I’m not over a barrel, so I don’t want you trying to fuck me on price. We need men, but there will be no battle, just a show of force.’
‘I’ve heard that, too, and spoken a bit too loudly, so you can thank me now for already silencing one man who was riding fast for the camp of said Duke. You’ve heard the words ‘spies’ before, right?’ The Bastard asked sarcastically.
Goldie’s face started to grow red. Here was a man even more cocky and self assured than him.
‘Let's talk rates and numbers, and less about my own abilities,’ said Goldie in a strained voice.
‘Well, we have 1200 men that we can have gathered by tomorrow lunch. The main force is in camp a few miles from the city, and the rest are here causing trouble. You say ‘no fight’, which is good, but also means no spoils or bodies to loot, which is bad, so what do you propose?’
‘One week engagement, a gold a man, half to you now and half when we get our payment from the Duke to not fight,’ said Goldie.
‘And you’re just going to give him the Keep? Have you got that little faith in Dagosh’s army of whores and slaves?’ He asked, laughing, as did his men.
Josette drew her dagger into her hand and saw the King Bastard look over at her as he laughed; he knew her, that was for sure.
Goldie just ignored the barb. ‘We have no love for Black Rock, and if we can get out of this situation rich and alive, that’s all I want.’
They shook hands and the deal was sealed, Goldie having now engaged the least reliable mercenary force in the land.
‘Now tell me about that girl,’ he said, and looked over to the stool where she had been sitting, but only Flint had seen her slip out the door while they shook hands.
‘What girl?’ asked Goldie.
‘Never mind, we’ll see her again, I’m sure.’
Chapter 14
Seraphina had never been much of a fighter. Sure she’d trained with her uncle Stephan a lot, and through him she had taken down her fair share of people who were great with swords, the rapier, and the thin ‘Lady’s blade’ which she still carried, but she preferred to plan and plot rather than just face someone with one sword against another sword. That’s what she’d had Dirst for.
‘What’s to stop her just commanding me to kill myself?’ She asked.
‘I don’t think her power will work on you; you’re much too strong with your own lies, so you will see through hers.’ The Wolvern had always referred to her powers of creating illusions as lies, and the power of making people see her lies. She’d always thought of it as the power of creating beauty from nothing. Especially now, in this wretched place it was the only thing that had kept her sane.
‘So what? We go and find her and you help me kill her?’ She asked.
‘I’ll journey with you, but you must do it alone, as she can still command me and I don’t want to be forced to hurt you.’
Seraphina thought about the creature’s request. On one hand, she wanted to kill Seth more than anything, and gain her revenge, but if anyone was going to blunder their way out of this hell it was him. He was like a windstorm in the desert that just flew along ripping apart everything that got in its way. Even now, he’d stumbled upon this Silver woman, and while she might be controlling him, she was also a strong protector in this world of hungry killers.
‘If I do manage to save him, then what? We’ll still be stuck here, and with him as company? You think I ever want to see his face again? I hate him, so why would I help him?’
It just laughed a dark laugh. ‘You don’t hate him, I can see though your lies, you’re confused about him... but your little heart beat faster when you heard he was here.’
‘Because I want revenge,’ she yelled.
It laughed again. ‘You don’t know what you want, so you’ll do what I ask.’
She just shook her head and stood up from her fire. Letting her features slowly change, she slipped into the illusion of the dead. Dark black eyes, pale skin, long feral teeth. It was always the way with this one: he was her friend but they were not equals. It thought of itself as a god and probably was, where as she was just a lost girl alone in a freezing land.
‘Let's stop talking and start walking then. But you have to tell me about this woman. I know you hate talking about her because she bested you, but you have to now,’ she said, teasing him. It was like poking a bear, but she enjoyed it. She could feel its anger in her mind, and she knew at least part of it wanting to save Seth was the chance to finally kill the silver tongue.
Chapter 15
Once she knew he’d recognised her, Josette left as quickly and quietly as she could. She’d waited u
ntil someone else walked in, and simply slipped past them into the street. She’d heard enough from Goldie to know that he was going to betray Elizebetha, and if that Bastard asked for her as part of the price, she was sure Goldie would agree to that as well.
While she thought Flint and Stone were solid enough, they were stupid and would believe anything Goldie told them. She’d have to do this herself and hope the King was able to be contacted, and soon enough. She drew her leather hood over her red hair and paced towards the front gate of the city on her long legs. She loped along looking as much like an archer, and a male one at that, as she could. The city was very dark now, and she knew it was a few good hours past midnight. The city vendors had packed up their stalls and the only people walking on the streets were the occasional drunken men and groups of people walking together to their houses. She drew her dagger out and held it in her hand beneath her thin black cloak. She looked like a shadow as she moved quickly though the city, and luckily no one was in the mood to try and rob her. The bow across her back did much to dissuade, especially given that the city was now filled with talk of mercenaries and war. She’d known it had been a complete mistake to engage the Red Bastards, and now that she had seen their current leader, she knew it was even more.
She’d first seen him three years ago. He was just a regular in their force then, and he’d clearly come up in the world. It had been the best and worst day of her life, that day.
She’d stood in the blazing sun of the Pellota slave markets. Feet resting on a small wooden stool and a thick rope tied around her neck. The Pellosi had a tradition of combining slave auctions and executions into one horrible event. It saved time. She’d looked out to the small collection of people who had come to watch her swing; there was at least twenty score, and more than a few city guards as well.
She’d looked even more like a child then. She’d been only twenty one, and was to be hung for murder and for being a runaway slave. The sun shone off her bright red hair and they had her dressed in a thin white shift to show off her lithe body. Even though they would plan to hang her, they would still try to sell her first. It was the cheapest and nastiest way to buy slaves, and it attracted the worst kind of people. That’s where she’d seen him.
He’d stood in a small group of men laughing and drinking in the daytime from rough clay jugs of cheap wine. They’d worn the red sashes around their arms and had swords clearly on display; even though it was technically not allowed, the city guard left them alone. She’d thought he was one of the most beautiful men she’d even seen, and that made her hate him on sight. Her whole life, it had been men like this who thought they were doing her a favour when they raped her. As if she should be happy because they were pretty like girls when they forced her. Her master hadn’t been pretty, though. He’d been a fat disgusting trader, but at least he preferred to hit her instead of fuck her. She’d prefer the taste of his hand more than anything else he’d had to offer.
She smiled a big fake smile at the crowd as the slave master introduced her to the audience: they wanted a show, she’d give them one, and she was going to die anyway so at least she’d go out with some fire about her. She was so filled with rage; it was a palpable force that came from her. Most of the people in the crowd wouldn’t meet her strong green eyes.
The hangman wasn’t in a hood, and was just like most other slave traders she’d met. Respectable clothing and well spoken, they thought they were just regular business people, not merchants of pain.
‘A young girl we have here, attractive in face and body, trained in the pleasure houses from age eight, then sold to a private patron at eighteen. Sadly, she has a violent nature and killed the poor man who owned her in a gruesome fashion. She is guilty of murder of her patron, an elderly man, attempting escape, and the serious injury of three city guards who tried to apprehend her. So, a mixed bag, I’d say, buyers, this lovely girl with a violent history, and we make no guarantees on her behaviour...’
She’d spoken up loudly. ‘Any of you fucking bastards buy me, I’ll kill you or myself, so either way it’s wasted coin.’ The audience of people laughed at that, but the Red Bastards looked up at her for the first time.
‘Yes, yes, very dramatic, we’ll start bidding at the low price of five silvers, and please remember this noose is not for show; if we don’t meet the reserve price, she will swing today.’ Some of the man’s family clapped at that. She knew they’d be bidding to get her back and kill her slowly; the only reason they hadn’t already was because she’d run straight to the city guard and handed herself in. They had needed some convincing she was really a killer so she’d stuck her dagger in one’s shoulder to prove herself.
‘Seven silvers,’ called out a man who looked like a poor farmer of some kind, probably wanting cheap labour and would even take a skinny thing like her. Seven silvers was much cheaper than buying a horse.
‘Ten silvers,’ cried the retainer of her patron’s family. If they got her, she’d just jump off the platform herself.
‘Fuck you,’ she yelled. ‘If you dogs buy me back I’ll do you like I did your father, the fat pig.’
Everyone except the family laughed at that, but they walked from the crowd along with jeers from the rest of the people. The crowd had quickly grown, coming to watch this young girl swearing and screaming, and they were enjoying the show.
‘Anyone else?’ Cried the slaver/hangman. ‘She’ll swing for seven silvers!’
‘Two golds,’ said a strong voice. Everyone looked at the bidder, and of course it was him. The King Bastard. She felt a flush of real fear go through her. She had no wish to go with him or his men.
‘Two golds was that, sir?’ Cried the man in an excited voice.
‘You heard right, we’ll get our money’s worth, won’t we men?’ He said, and the small group of rough men laughed.
‘Well, two golds it is. Have we a higher bid? Or is our redhead friend going with the fine men of the Red Bastards? A noble troop of fine young men.’ The crowd laughed at that: they knew what was waiting for her.
Then she heard that voice, the one that had saved her. It was soft but gruff, and filled with deep, deep anger
‘The Cold Death claims her,’ the voice said.
Everyone looked around, and then saw them. Dagosh, who she’d never seen before, stood in a group of soldiers. They had weapons openly displayed and she saw there was a tall woman next to him, with a stern face and a bow across her back. Dagosh was a tallish older man with a stern face and trimmed beard, he held a whip at his side and his dark eyes glowed with anger, and he was the only one not laughing, nor was his troop.
‘Ahh, Master Dagosh, that is not a bid, and I’ve told you before, you can’t come and disrupt like this.’
‘Oh I’m sorry, did I stutter?’ Dagosh yelled. ‘I said we claim her; she’s my little sister and has been wrongly imprisoned for years, and now you’re selling her. That’s illegal and you know it.’
‘Fucking hell, Dagosh,’ the man yelled. ‘How many little sisters have you got? It’s been eight so far this year!’
‘Okay Drake, I’ll be nice and bid three gold, but....’ Then he looked at the golden haired man and his men who were now looking very ready for a fight. ‘That will be the winning bid.’
‘Four gold,’ the Bastard said back in a relaxed tone.
The slaver, Drake, looked back and forth between Dagosh and the man. He’d never liked Dagosh because he was always coming and ruining his sales, but he knew not to cross him or his ex-slave mercenaries when it came to times like this.
Standing with that rope around her neck, she’d never wanted anything so much. This man who had been called Dagosh looked like a savior. He was an angry old fighter, and she’d heard of the Cold Death. They were mercenaries, but made up of bought slaves, and she’d heard no dark rumours about them except that Dagosh himself was teased for being a prude, which sounded good to her.
The slaver clapped his hands loudly and shook his head at Dagosh in defeat. ‘
Winning bid, three golds from Master Dagosh.’ The men of the Red Bastards yelled and howled, but it was the seller’s choice. She had a new master now, and one she actually wanted.
She’d been so lost in her own world of remembering that day that she suddenly realised she’d reached the towering front gate and was being stared at by the two city guards who stood with large flat bladed pikes by its side. She pulled down her hood and saw them visibly relax; she had no idea how long she’d been standing there looking sinister.
One spoke in a young fresh voice, but he was still older than her. ‘Can we help you, ma’am? Lost, are you? Dangerous hour to be walking alone in this city.’
‘I need to speak to a King’s messenger about what’s happening right now in Black Rock,’ she said in reply.
They just nodded to each other. ‘There have been rumours flying fast tonight. If you don’t mind, we’ll show you to our Captain.’
She just nodded and let the young guard lead her into the small stone guardhouse next to the gate.
Chapter 16
It had been years and years since she’d done a summoning like this, and it had been so very long since she’d talked to her father. She had no desire to see him as a corpse, but she needed to speak with someone and he’d always guided her to the right path. While in life, he’d been the guiding light in her life. A strong believer in right and the leader of the Order of the Gatherers. He’d never been seduced by the power of the summoning, but had in his time fought against those others who had. He never spoke to her of this, but she could see it in his face sometimes when she’d seen him alone in his study, just staring into the crackling fire with a faraway look in his old eyes, and she’d always wondered what demons he was wrestling with. She’d ask, but he’d just smile his kind smile and ask her what she was reading or writing, and ease the conversation back to his daughter.
Take the Darkness...: Epic Fantasy Series Page 7