A Gathering of Fools (Vensille Saga Book 1)

by James Evans

  Adrava relaxed in the bath until the water grew cool, allowing the aches of the ride to soak away, then she dried herself on the towels, slipped into the dressing gown, fastened the cord tightly around her waist and made her way barefoot back to her room. When she got there, she found a tray of bread, cheese and sliced meat had been left for her on the bed and she ate quickly, washing it down with the remains of her wine skin.

  “Why Catshed?” she muttered to herself as she drank. It was a question she had pondered, on and off, since Lady Drocia had first mentioned the town. She just couldn’t see why Marrinek would be interested in the town - he had no family there, no friends, no contacts at all. As far as she knew, he had never even been to Catshed, so why go now?

  She paused as a sudden thought struck her. Maybe the report wasn’t wrong, maybe it was just incomplete. The report had said that Marrinek had gone to Catshed but that didn’t mean he had chosen to go there; maybe he had just washed-up there after escaping his pursuers. Maybe they hadn’t been able to follow him further and had simply reported it as his destination?

  Another thought occurred. Catshed was a trading town, close to the border; what if it was just a waypoint, a stop-off on the way to somewhere else? She sat up, excited now, feeling that she might finally be asking the right questions.

  Catshed was on the river. It was good for trade but it was small and Marrinek would want crowds to hide in, resources to work with and places to hide, especially if he thought the Kareethi were following him. If he had moved on - and she could no longer believe that he was still in Catshed - where would he go?

  Not east, toward the Empire. Of that much she was certain. She wracked her memory for details of the area. Was there anything west of the Guiln? She couldn’t remember and she shook her head in annoyance.

  Then it hit her and she sat back, a daft grin spreading across her face.

  “Vensille,” she whispered, “he’s heading for Vensille.”

  It made sense. Vensille was outside the Empire and it big, rich and strong. It would be a perfect hiding place for a wanted man. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed the only logical, the only possible, destination. She went to bed still thinking about it but ever more convinced that she was right.

  The next morning she again rose early, keen to resume her journey before the roads became busy. She found her clothes - washed and mostly dry - on a peg outside her bedroom door and she dressed quickly, strapping on arm bracers and holstering her shock cannon. She repacked her saddle bags and then slipped down to the common room where the innkeeper was already busy tidying and sweeping and making good after the previous night.

  “Up so early, miss? Did you sleep well?”

  Adrava nodded.

  “Very well, thank you.” She dropped coins into the woman’s hand and said, “might I trouble you for some bread and beer for the day ahead? I have a long way to go and I won’t stop if I can avoid it.”

  “Certainly miss. Come with me down to the kitchen and we’ll get you sorted out.” She waddled off down the corridor and Adrava followed, trailing behind like a duckling following her mother.

  “Meg,” said the innkeeper in a loud voice as they reached the kitchen, “Meg. Drat it, where is that girl?” She bustled around the kitchen but Meg didn’t appear.

  “Well I don’t know where she’s got to, I really don’t, but here, take this loaf and some cheese.” She passed the items to Adrava then turned around to find a young girl standing behind her.

  “Oh Meg, there you are. Fill this with beer for the lady,” she said, handing over the wine skin.

  “Is there anything else you need, miss?”

  Adrava made a show of thinking about it for a few seconds.

  “No, thank you, you’ve been very kind.”

  “Well, I hope you have a good journey and that your mother isn’t too ill when you arrive. Here’s your beer,” she said as Meg ran back into the room with the filled skin.

  The innkeeper walked her to the stable yard and waited while String was saddled and made ready, then she waved as Adrava mounted and rode out of the yard. Adrava returned the wave from the road before pointing String westward and kicking her to a quick trot, her back to the rising sun.

  By mid-evening, with the road almost deserted, she had covered a good number of miles and both she and String were flagging. She turned off the road where it forded a small brook and headed upstream for a little way, looking for somewhere sheltered to make camp.

  She settled on a small grassy area above the stream and surrounded by tall oak trees. She tied String to one of the trees and gave her the last of the oats that she had brought from The Farm. A short while later, while String munched contentedly on her nosebag, Adrava had started a small fire and was enjoying her own dinner as she looked west over the stream toward the setting sun. A real bed with clean sheets might have been better but she wasn’t about to complain about a night in the open when she had food, warmth and peaceful surroundings.

  She was finishing her food when she heard sounds of movement, of people heading towards her from the road. Then three men emerged from the woods on the opposite side of the fire. One took String’s reins and started to talk to the horse while a second just stood at the edge of the clearing watching her and the fire. The third moved close to the fire and crouched down, making a show of warming his hands even though the night was still mild. All of them were roughly dressed, unshaven and armed with swords and bows; outlaws, of some description.

  Number three, a thin wiry man with a bald head that Adrava decided to name ‘Baldy’ looked at her and grinned, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.

  “Well. You’re a long way from home, miss. What are you doing out here, all alone?”

  Adrava smiled back at the man, hoping that a little politeness might encourage a friendly response.

  “I’m on my way to meet my husband,” she said, opting for the truth, “and you? What’s your business in the woods at this time of night?”

  “Oh, this and that. Looking for opportunities, food, money, horses, that sort of thing. So you’re meeting your husband, eh? He’s not here at the moment, then?”

  Adrava shook her head.

  “No, he’s many miles away, unfortunately, somewhere out west, beyond the Empire’s borders.”

  The other men were paying close attention now and the leader was grinning ever more widely.

  “Out west, eh? That is sad. Isn’t that sad, lads? The poor lady priest, out here in the middle of the woods, all alone...” his voice trailed off but his eyes stared at Adrava.

  “I do hope I can trust you gentlemen to behave honourably,” said Adrava wearily, not for one moment believing that their intentions were even pleasant, let alone honourable, “it would be so disappointing to spoil a fine day with something distasteful.”

  Baldy raised his hands, palm upward.

  “Well, pleasant means different things to different people, don’t it, now.” He leered at her again, not even bothering to try to look at her face.

  “You give us what we want, all of us, and maybe you’ll still get to meet your husband.”

  “But you might walk a bit funny,” said the man standing by String. He clutched at his crotch, just in case she’d missed the joke.

  Adrava sighed.

  “Is there anything I could say that might make you forget that I was here and continue your journey?”

  The leader laughed and his colleagues laughed with him.

  “Oh, no miss, nothing at all. So be a good girl and just slip out of them clothes so we can get started.” He was staring hungrily now, licking his lips in anticipation, his hands twitching. Behind him the man holding String was rubbing at the bulge in his trousers.

  Adrava stood slowly and Baldy stood as well. She raised her left hand to her neck to unfasten her tunic and Baldy took half a step forward.

  “Is it just the three of you?” she said in a nervous tone, left hand paused at her throat, right hand by her side
.

  Baldy just grinned and then, too late, she heard someone moving behind her. Before she could move a huge arm grabbed her around the neck and she was dragged up and backward. She clutched desperately at the arm with both hands but he was very strong and very much bigger than her. Baldy grinned as Adrava's captor grabbed her breast with his free hand, squeezing.

  “No miss, I’m afraid there are four of us,” Baldy grinned again as she squirmed and struggled, then added, “and when we get back to camp we can introduce you to the rest of the gang.”

  Behind her the big man was laughing, one arm clamped around her throat, the other wandering freely across her body. She struggled harder as he pawed at her clothing but his grip didn’t loosen and now she realised that she had misjudged the situation. Growing slightly desperate, she changed tack and stopped struggling, going limp in his arms.

  “That’s better miss, much easier all round. Put her down there, Tink, and let’s get a closer look at her.”

  Tink half-carried her back towards Baldy and then let her go, pushing her down to her knees. He kept one heavy hand on her shoulder while Baldy undid his belt and came forward, then stepped away.

  Adrava wasn’t slow to seize her chance. She threw herself to her left, away from the fire, and rolled quickly to her feet, crouching in the darkness with her knife in her left hand. Baldy hooted with laughter and stumbled a little as he dragged up his trousers. Adrava stood slowly, keeping the knife between her and the four men, and slipped her shock cannon from its holster.

  “Grab her, Tink, and don’t let go of her this time,” said Baldy, grinning but watching the knife as it glinted in the firelight. Tink lumbered forward, arms spread wide to encircle Adrava, eyes on the knife but no hint of fear on his face.

  Adrava backed away slowly, painfully aware that the clearing was small and that if she turned to run they would be on her in moments.

  “Last chance,” she said, “please don’t make me...” but Tink was already moving, rushing forward far more quickly than someone of his bulk ought to be able to move. Surprised by the suddenness of his charge Adrava didn’t have time to do more than stab her thumb at the shock cannon’s actuator as it pointed in Tink’s general direction. The cannon, set for high power, punched a neat hole, as broad as a man’s thumb, in the flesh of Tink’s thigh. He stumbled, his shoulder catching Adrava and knocking her backwards as he tried to stay upright on a leg that was suddenly not working properly. She spun around him, rolling with the impact, and brought the knife down as he fell past her, catching him in the arm or back or shoulder - she couldn’t tell exactly - and losing her grip on the handle.

  Tink felt the knife go in and roared in pain. The momentum of his charge carried him past Adrava and into the low bushes surrounding the clearing. He tried to turn back to face her but there was something wrong with his leg and he slipped over, crashing onto his side and rolling onto his back. He screamed again as the knife was driven more deeply into his shoulder.

  Baldy, his face now contorted in anger, pulled his sword and snarled at Adrava.

  “I’ll gut you for that you fucking whore!” He came forward quickly but Adrava had his measure, now. She stepped back and to one side, raising the shock cannon and fiddling with the control sliders. She stabbed the actuator and stopped Baldy dead with a diffuse blow to the chest. The man looked confused and pained but he came on again so Adrava nudged the slider and hit him again, harder. Then she hit him a third time, harder still, knocking him over, breaking his arm and dislocating his shoulder. Baldy screamed and let go of his sword as he thumped to the floor of the clearing.

  Adrava glanced at Tink but he was still on his knees, trying to pull the knife from his shoulder and hampered by the hole in his thigh. She turned back to the other two men, who had drawn swords and were approaching warily, neither of them keen to get too close.

  “I warned you,” she said, “I asked you to leave, to walk away, to avoid any unpleasantness.”

  Behind her, Tink whimpered and crawled away from the fire, heading for the safe darkness of the forest.

  Adrava now had the feel for the shock cannon and the time to use it properly. She flicked the sliders to boost the power and tighten the area of effect then raised her arm and pressed the actuator twice, punching fist-sized holes in the chests of each man, one after the other, more quickly and easily than butchering meat. They fell almost noiselessly, dead before they hit the ground.

  She turned back to Baldy who was trying to clamber to his feet.

  “I haven’t finished with you.” She raised the cannon, fingers moving deftly over the sliders, and hit him with a blast that knocked him back to the ground. Baldy screamed again but he stopped trying to stand.

  Adrava looked over at Tink just as he finally managed to haul himself upright, his weight entirely on his undamaged leg, the other hanging useless from his hip, his meaty right hand wrapped around a tree branch for support. He’d managed to pull the knife from his shoulder and he held it in his left hand, blood dripping from the blade. He waved it uncertainly towards Adrava as the blood ran from the hole in his leg and soaked his trousers and the forest floor. They stood like that for a few seconds, each just watching the other, then the big man seemed to sag and his good leg failed him, pitching him forward onto the floor of the clearing. The knife fell from his hand and he lay still.

  Adrava looked around the clearing then fitted the monocle and looked again, focussing a little power through the charm until the forest was exposed as if it had been noon. Satisfied that there was nobody nearby, she holstered her shock cannon and turned back to Baldy, who was lying on the ground and trying to protect his damaged arm.

  She walked over to him and used the toe of her boot to flip him onto his back. Baldy screamed as his broken arm flopped against the ground. Adrava knelt beside him and plucked his knife from his belt, resting it against his neck. His screams stopped quickly, replaced by a ragged, fearful, breathing.

  “You could have walked away, you know. I would have let you go if you had only taken the chance. What should I do with you now, eh?” She stroked his cheek with the flat of the blade. Baldy tried to edge away from the knife but she moved it back to his neck and he stopped, barely daring to breathe.

  “No, don’t try to move. Let me have a look at your arm. Oh dear, that’s a nasty break. And is there something wrong with your shoulder?” She poked at his upper arm and it was all Baldy could do to hold in another scream.

  “I think you’re probably fucked,” she said, “all alone, at night, in the woods, miles from anywhere.”

  “Not alone,” hissed Baldy through gritted teeth, “others, nearby.” He swallowed as she rested her knee gently on his broken arm.

  “Others? How many, where?” Her tone was polite, conversational, friendly almost, but Baldy gasped as her knee weighed a little more heavily on his arm.

  “Twenty, twenty. Please stop, please.”

  She pressed harder and Baldy shuddered in pain.

  “Where?”

  “South-west, two miles, maybe.”

  Adrava eased back off Baldy’s arm and he almost fainted in relief. She edged back from him and sat on a log, thinking quickly. She had to get away from here before the rest of the gang could stumble upon them and that meant moving through the night. She stood up and began to repack her things, stuffing them into her saddle bags and re-saddling String. Baldy watched her carefully, cradling his arm and slowly edging himself into a sitting position with his back against the trunk of a small tree.

  Adrava ignored him while she packed her kit and readied String. With power flowing continuously to the monocle she could see everything in the forest around her; she would not be caught unawares again.

  She finished packing and checked the straps on the saddle then turned back to Baldy. He had managed to get to his knees and was trying to use a long branch as a crutch to get him to his feet. She shook her head and walked back over to him, standing behind him as he struggled. When he finally ma
de it to his feet she stepped forward and stabbed him twice with his own dagger, neat strikes into the back of his thighs. Baldy screamed again and fell back to the floor, rolling away from his broken arm and whimpering, lying on his good shoulder, legs bleeding heavily.

  “Yes, you’re completely fucked.” She retrieved her knife from the ground where Tink had dropped it and cleaned it on his jerkin, then slipped it back into its sheath. Baldy’s knife looked almost like a small sword in her slender hand, far too large for her to carry even if it hadn’t been crudely made and spotted with rust. She looked at it dispassionately; a crude weapon that matched its owner. She tossed it away into the bush and drew her own knife then knelt down beside the fallen man.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything I might need to know?”

  Baldy, breathing heavily, stammered, “N-n-no, nothing, I’ve told you everything.”

  “Then goodbye. It wasn’t a pleasure, in the end, but we don’t always get what we want.” Her arm darted forward, faster than a snake, and Baldy hadn’t even time to draw breath before his life was snuffed out.

  Adrava sat there for a moment, looking at her hand and examining the edges of the blade where they met the ruined jelly of Baldy’s eye, then she pulled the knife free and cleaned it carefully on the man’s shirt. Then she sat back on the floor as her legs suddenly gave way, shivering despite the warm night, and threw up.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there but by the time she roused herself the fire had died to glowing embers and the air had chilled. The shock had passed but now she shivered with cold, her teeth chattering under the clear skies.

  “Get up, get up, get up,” she muttered, urging herself to action. She forced herself upright, trying not to look at the corpses spread around the clearing, then kicked dirt over the fire to put it out completely. One last glance with the monocle to check that she had left nothing behind, then she untied String from the tree and picked her way carefully out of the clearing.