A Sellsword's Hope

by Jacob Peppers

  May watched the proceedings with something like awe, thinking that such a moment must surely stand as proof that the world was not completely damned, after all. When faced with the worst, men and women, strangers, might band together to help one another.

  “It’s a wonder, isn’t it?”

  Captain Gant stood beside her, studying the withdrawal. “Yes,” May said. “I wish only that it had not cost so much.” She looked around at all those forms lying still and unmoving within the circle of the army’s retreat. Was Thom among them? He’d been fine, last she heard, but that had been before the retreat had been sounded, and she’d been busily coordinating with the captain and squad leaders on what supplies were left them. Only now that the retreat was well and truly underway did she have time to think about it, and she felt a cold shiver run up her spine. What chance did an old sailor have when so many trained soldiers had died? “So many dead,” she said in a voice barely more than a whisper. “For nothing.”

  “Not for nothing.” She turned to see Adina arriving with several flustered, exhausted guards. The queen’s clothes were stained with dried blood. She, too, looked weary, and her eyes reflected the hours she’d spent seeing to the wounded, many of whom were beyond hope. Yet, for all that, there was something almost triumphant in her face. “Not for nothing, May,” she said again.

  The club owner only nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she scanned the steady procession of wounded being taken into the city, searching for a certain stubborn old man with more courage than sense.

  “We will find him, May,” Adina said, discerning the direction of May’s thoughts.

  Yes, May thought, but will we find him alive? And, of course, there wasn’t just Thom to think about, but Silent, too, and all the others. She felt a wave of shame at that, for while she fretted over Thom, Aaron and the others were inside the city. Despite the fear she must be feeling, the queen was trying to comfort her.

  “Queen Adina,” one of her guards said, “it’s time we got you into the city.”

  “We have gone over this already, Captain Marcus,” Adina said. “I will not go into the city until the wounded have been seen to.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, Majesty, but the last of the wounded are being led into the city now.”

  “He’s right, Majesty,” Brandon said. “All that can be done for them has been—there is nothing more you can do here. It’s time.”

  Adina gazed out at the fields, at the dead lying scattered about it, and a tear trickled down her face. That, and only that. Then, she seemed to gather herself and nodded. “Very well.” She turned to the club owner. “Will you walk with me?”

  May smiled, impressed not for the first time by the other woman’s compassion and not just that, for if the past hours had shown her anything, it was the strength, the courage that buoyed up that compassion, the foundation upon which it had been built. “Majesty,” she said, “I would be honored.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-SIX

  Leomin watched the others climb the ladder and disappear into the darkness above.

  I don’t like this, Leomin, Aliandra said into his mind, and he was forced to agree with the Virtue. They were in the sewers of a hostile city, planning to do battle with a mage out of legend. Leomin had been a smuggler for years, and had often been in danger, but he had always run away from it, not toward it. Still, there was no choice, and he knew it, so he took a deep breath and smiled at Seline before following the others up the ladder with a confidence he didn’t feel.

  The room he climbed into was completely dark, and someone grunted as he bumped into them. “Where are we?”

  “Tianya?” Aaron asked from somewhere off to Leomin’s left.

  “It appears to be a small garderobe,” the woman answered, no doubt calling on her bond with the Virtue of Perception to make out their surroundings clearly. “There’s a door here.”

  Leomin himself could see nothing, but he heard the click of the latch well enough, and he followed the others out into a big room, wincing as his eyes protested at the bright sunlight pouring into the room from several windows. Simple cots were lined up along the room’s length, reminding him of the troops’ barracks back in Perennia.

  “The servants’ quarters,” Gryle said, nodding.

  None of the beds were occupied, and Leomin was just about to say a quick prayer of thanks for their luck when the door at the end of the room opened and four guards wielding crossbows stalked inside, their weapons pointed at Leomin and the others. A fifth figure followed them inside, and Leomin blinked in surprise as he recognized the newcomer.

  The woman was wearing a blue silk dress, and she smiled upon seeing them, as if some suspicion had been confirmed. “Maladine?” Leomin blurted.

  The representative of the Golden Oars bank smiled warmly, nodding her head at him as if to cede a point. “Just so,” she said. “And how are your royal mother and father doing, I wonder?”

  Leomin frowned, at first not realizing what she meant, then he recalled the cover story he’d given the last time they’d come to the city, when he was plying the woman for information. “Um…they are…well. Thank you for asking.”

  “Well, that’s good,” the woman said, giving him a knowing smile. Then she looked around at the group, mock concern on her face. “And where is dear Servant? I do hope nothing untoward has happened to him.”

  Leomin cleared his throat, trying to formulate some response, but she beat him to it, waving a hand. “Never mind, dear Leomin. I won’t force you to squirm any longer. I have learned a few things, since our last…shall we say, meeting. As pleasant and diverting as it was,”—she winked—“I must admit it left me with a few questions, ones which, upon waking to find myself alone and you long gone, I have since endeavored to answer.”

  Leomin felt his face flush, and was all too aware of the arched look Seline was giving him. “I…do forgive me for that, madam. I assure you, it wasn’t by choice. Business matters, I’m afraid, demanded my attention.”

  “Indeed,” she said. “The business, I imagine, of escaping the city before the guards found you.” Leomin’s breath caught in his throat at that, but she wasn’t done. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Leomin.” She grinned mischievously. “Or should I say, ‘Captain?’ You see, a woman of my profession knows well the importance of information, the value of it, and it was not so very difficult to link the Parnen who escaped the city with the one who had shown me such a pleasant night. Both, after all, had bells in their hair.” She frowned as if disappointed, staring at his long braided hair. “Not now, though, and that is a shame. I did so love the look of them.”

  Leomin risked a glance at Seline’s scowl before turning back to the woman, “Yes, well, forgive me but…”

  “Enough,” Aaron said, and Leomin breathed a heavy sigh of relief, thankful as everyone present turned to look at the sellsword. “Fine, you know who Leomin is, and we know who you are. Now, what do you want?”

  “Ah,” she said, “and this must be General Envelar. Oh yes, I have heard of you—I doubt there are any in Baresh who haven’t now. Still,” she said, giving a pouty look, “I would have thought you’d be taller.”

  Leomin saw Seline reaching for the blades at her side, and the representative of the Golden Oars held up an admonishing finger. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. You’re fast, I know, but even I doubt that you are fast enough to stop so many crossbow bolts at once—particularly when they come from both sides.”

  As if they’d only been waiting their cue, four more crossbowmen piled into the room from the other side. Leomin swallowed, glancing back at Seline to see her hands drop, a silent snarl on her face.

  “Ah, such anger,” Maladine said to Seline. “Why, I do believe if these men weren’t with me, you’d like to tear me limb from limb. Is that simply frustration at being caught, I wonder, or something more?” She glanced between Leomin and Seline, her smile widening. “Ah, I see. My, Leomin, but you do stay busy, don’t you?”
r />   “Is there a point to any of this?” Aaron demanded.

  The woman sighed. “Very well, I see my audience grows weary. Yes, Aaron Envelar, there is a point. You see, I know of these sewers, just as I know many of Baresh’s other secrets. As I believe I’ve mentioned, I make it my business to know such things. So, when I heard there were a group of fugitives in the city who had somehow managed to evade several groups of guards…” She paused, shrugging. “Well, it was no great leap to guess that the rebellion—such as it is—saw fit to help you.”

  She laughed at the look of surprise on their faces. “Oh yes, I know of the rebellion. Just as I know of these sewers, and of the Virtues you all carry. Just as I know that you have come to kill the king.”

  “Yes, we have,” Aaron said. “Now, if you’re done talking, why don’t you do whatever you intend, but I warn you that we will not surrender. There’s an army outside the city counting on us.”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “It seems you’ve spent too long in the sewers, General. The army is no longer outside the city but within it, the gate closed behind them and nearly all of Baresh’s forces caught outside.” She shrugged. “Still, judging from what I’ve learned of the creatures’ strengths, I do not doubt that they will find a way through the gate sooner rather than later. And as for what I intend, well, isn’t it obvious? I intend to help you.”

  Leomin grunted in surprise, his own shock mirrored in the expressions of the others. “H-help us?” he said. “But…why?”

  Maladine shrugged. “Does it really matter? Very well, if you must have an answer, then let us say simply that chaos is bad for business, and I am a woman who prides herself on doing what is good for her business.”

  Leomin frowned, studying her. “But that’s not the real reason—or, at least, not the only one.”

  A hardness came into her eyes then, and she shook her head slowly. “No, it isn’t, but it is the only one I will give you. Now, will you accept my help or not? I can get you into the castle—the guards are used to seeing me there, and will think nothing of it should I add a few more bodyguards to my own retinue. Otherwise…” She shrugged again. “I suppose you can take your chances on your own, but I would not wager on you setting foot inside the castle, not with as many guards as are now patrolling the grounds.”

  Leomin felt a hand on his shoulder and barely managed to hold back a scream before turning to see Aaron watching him. “Well?” the sellsword asked. “You know her better than any of us. What do you think?”

  Leomin cleared his throat, pointedly avoiding Seline’s glare. “I…for what it is worth, Aaron, I do not believe she is lying.”

  The sellsword nodded slowly. “Good enough for me.” He turned back to the woman. “Alright, we’ll take your help, and you have our thanks.”

  She clapped her hands together softly. “Oh, now isn’t this fine? And who knows?” she said, glancing at Leomin. “Perhaps we will have an opportunity to…renew our acquaintance.”

  Leomin swallowed hard, unable to get any words out past the lump in his throat, and the woman giggled before motioning to the guards. “Come. This way.”

  The others followed her, but Seline took his arm, and reluctantly he looked up to meet her gaze. “We will talk about this,” she said. “Later.”

  “O-of course,” Leomin answered, but she was already walking after the others. He watched her go, heaved a heavy sigh, and followed.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Guard Captain Marcus knew he should be relieved. After all, they had made it into the city—for some time there, it had looked like they never would, and that Perennia’s army would be crushed outside. Yet, what he felt more than anything was not relief, but fear. Fear not for himself, but for his charge, Queen Adina, who now crouched by one of the wounded lining the street, ministering to the man’s wounds and murmuring soft, reassuring words. Those nearest watched her in awe, as did her patient, clearly amazed to see their queen tending to the army’s wounded personally. Marcus, too, was amazed by it, but he wished she would take a break.

  Though the queen hadn’t uttered a single complaint, he knew she was tired. The army’s healers had taken breaks in the long hours spent outside the walls, but she had not, moving from one wounded soldier to the next with an urgency that was humbling, always smiling and doing her best to comfort those she tended. But for all that, Marcus could see her exhaustion—he saw it in the way she moved, but, more than anything, he saw it in her eyes.

  He resisted the urge to ask her to rest, for he knew she would only refuse and, besides, there was no denying the effect her presence had on the troops’ morale. Even those suffering from wounds straightened their backs when she came near, and for a moment, the pain seemed to leave their faces, replaced by admiration and, Marcus believed, hope.

  So instead of asking her to stop, he busied himself scanning the nearby alleyways. Though the western gate opening had saved the army, Marcus reminded himself that they were within an enemy city now. Any moment, soldiers might come rushing down one of the side streets to attack them and, if they did, it would be his job—and the job of those guards standing near him—to keep the queen safe.

  “She really does care for them, doesn’t she?”

  Marcus’s nerves were stretched so tightly that he nearly screamed at the unexpected voice, and he spun, his fingers tightening around his sword hilt. But instead of the enemy soldier he’d half-imagined, he recognized the man standing beside him. At first, he couldn’t place him, then his eyes went wide as he realized that the newcomer was General Yalleck, the commander of Avarest’s armies. He bowed his head. “General Yalleck.”

  The older man gave him a small smile. “That is my name. And yours, guardsman?”

  Marcus cleared his throat. “It’s uh…that is, I’m Marcus, sir.”

  The general inclined his head. “A pleasure. But…my question?”

  Marcus frowned, confused. “Sir?”

  “Queen Adina,” the general prompted, turning back to study the queen as she went about her work. “She seems to care for her people.”

  “Yes sir,” Marcus managed, surprised by how quickly his life had changed. Only weeks ago, he’d been the guard captain of a city gate; now he served as one of the queen’s personal bodyguards and was speaking to a general who commanded one of the world’s greatest armies. “She does.”

  Yalleck nodded thoughtfully. “Still, I suppose it could be only a show. Other rulers have done as much in the past, pretending to care for their people only to secure their support. A man might be left to wonder if such was the case here.”

  “Forgive me, General,” Marcus said, “but such a man would be a fool.”

  The general turned to him, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the feeling in Marcus’s voice. “Oh?”

  “Yes. General, I’ve watched the queen for these last hours as she’s ministered to the wounded and the dying. I’ve watched her try to save those who could not be saved. I’ve seen her stand up from men and women who died despite her efforts, and each time I’ve seen her take invisible wounds of her own. Yet, she moves to the next without hesitation, doing what she can, oblivious of her own pain, or the danger she puts herself in. No,” he said, meeting the other man’s eyes, “it is not a show, General. It is simply who she is.”

  Yalleck studied him for several seconds, then turned back to watch Adina, deep in thought. He seemed to come to some sort of decision, and he turned back to Marcus with a small smile. “Thank you, guardsman.” He started away but had only taken a step before he turned back. “And guardsman?”

  “General?”

  “Keep her safe. I think that, should we win the day, Telrear could do little better than have one such as she lead us into the future.”

  ***

  “May, I told you, I’m fine,” Thom said wearily. He sat with his back propped against the inside of Baresh’s wall, along with hundreds of other soldiers, the nearest of whom were finding the strength—despite their o
bvious exhaustion—to grin as the woman fussed over him.

  “Fine?” she said. “Fine?” She shook her head, holding up his arm to display a long, shallow cut across it, as if he hadn’t noticed it well enough already. “Does this look fine to you, Thom?” She scowled, looking around them. “And just where is that damned healer, anyway? She said she’d be here way before now.”

  “Probably seeing to someone who actually needs it, May.” He sighed. “Look, it’s nearly stopped bleeding, and it was never deep anyway.”

  “As if it needs to be deep to get infected,” May said, shaking her head. “I’m going to go find her—you just stay here. Don’t you move.”

  Moving was the last thing on Thom’s mind just then as his weary body soaked up the brief moment of respite while the fresher troops from the ships manned the battlements, shooting arrows down at the enemy army now forced to lay siege to their own walls. Still, the woman kept studying him, so he nodded. “I’ll be right here, May.”

  “You’d better be, Thom,” she said, narrowing her gaze. “Now, I’ll be right back.”

  With that, she was gone, stomping through the crowd of resting soldiers who pointedly avoided her gaze as she swept past. Thom didn’t envy the healer, when May found her.

  “Well, why ain’t I surprised to find you lazin’ about when there’s work needs doin’?”

  And there was Festa walking up. The captain was covered in thick furs as he always was in the north, but Thom didn’t miss the cuts and tears in them, nor the splatters of what appeared to be fresh blood covering them. “Captain,” he said, surprised by how glad he was to see the man alive and well.

  He started to rise, but Festa held out a hand, forestalling him. “Don’t you get up on my account,” the captain said, grinning. “I don’t mean to find myself on that she-devil’s bad side, she comes back and sees you standin’ up with no one but me to blame.”