You Can't Avoid A Little Blood

by Philip Norris

  Killing the A’yai wouldn’t do anything about the current situation either. He was stuck near the top of a Highlords Keep with no other way out except through an armed force of unknown number that was led by a Regulator. Boskags cursed Kark, if he hadn’t insisted on going into the Two Headed Man they’d not have met Karesh and he’d not have been brought to the Keep and perhaps the situation would not have been as bad. At least with no Regulator the course of events would not be playing out as they were now.

  Boskags turned and went back into the throne room, this was not a time for what if’s, what was done was done and they’d have to deal with it. His men looked at him with concern. They had all heard what Kark had said and all knew they were effectively trapped up here and the only way out meant fighting their way out, they all knew there was a possibility they’d have to fight, it was the nature of the profession they were all in. But only a madman willingly goes looking for a fight, especially with a Regulator.

  Some of them were looking towards the hallway where the A’yai was and were no doubt having the same thoughts he had that killing the A’yai may be a good idea. But none of them would act against him, he knew most of them they were handpicked and had worked with him numerous times over the years. His men he didn’t have to worry about, it was the ones who would be coming up with the Regulator. He needed to find out what sort of soldiers the Highlord chose to guard his gate. The men who’d been guarding the Highlord that they hadn’t killed had been taken to rooms on the next level down. He took two men with him and went down, picking one of the rooms at random he went in.

  The man had been stripped of his weapons but still had on the ornate breastplate and mailed britches. He was older than Boskags with greying hair and a trimmed beard, he looked up with open aggression and there was no doubt that if he hadn’t been bound hand and foot he would have attacked with his bare hands. Boskags went into the room leaving his men outside and sat on one of the chairs out of reach of the bound man. The prisoner looked confused as the door closed, perhaps wondering why Boskags was here alone and what was about to happen.

  Most soldiers accept that if they are captured they will either face death or torture and then death. It was not something they liked to think about but it was part of putting on armour and taking up a sword. In Boskags opinion killing was not the first option for a soldier who became a prisoner, no matter what their rank they always knew something. Even the lowliest conscript would know something, his commanding officers name would tell the questioner what experience their opponent had, how many latrines he had dug would tell how many men were in his unit. Being questioned was expected, the nature of that questioning differed from questioner to questioner.

  “So is this where the questioning starts?” The man was a Northerner and judging by the accent local to Koon. Probably one of the soldiers who came from a long line of soldiers and did it because his father, grandfather, great grandfather and on down the line had done it. He looked towards the door. “Is this where your men come in and start kicking information out of me?”

  “That depends on you.” Boskags sighed, he actually felt weary. This was not the way things were supposed to have gone, if all had gone as planned his men would have been sitting out the hours till dawn in boredom and the prisoners much the same. But everything had gone to pot and Boskags had to claw things back on track.

  “I’ll tell you nothing.” The man nearly spat the words.

  “You don’t know what I’m going to ask you yet?” Boskags sat forward letting his hands dangle between his knees. He wanted to look relaxed, if he was relaxed then perhaps the prisoner would relax as well. Men who didn’t feel threatened tended to let things slip more than men on their guard.

  “Your Highlord is dead, by that I mean Mandrus Bendicala is dead, so I guess that statement is a little misleading because with his death his son is now the Highlord.” The man looked shocked, Boskags wasn’t sure why it’s not like they didn’t die, they died like everyone died, but it was a rarity.

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Me? No not personally but I was there so I guess in a way you could say I had a hand in it.”

  “To kill a Highlord is to….”

  “Yes, yes let’s not get into children’s bedtime stories about bogey men and the like.” Boskags leant forward even more as if he was about to impart some secret that he didn’t want overheard. “The A’yai killed him.”

  The man was more than shocked at that which was what Boskags had intended. He’d wanted the man to understand his situation, with the Highlord dead and the A’yai turned there was no getting out of this without blood being spilt.

  “What can you tell me about the gate guards and their captain?”

  The man looked at Boskags obviously wondering why that information was of interest. He seemed to ponder his response before speaking.

  “The Guards of the Gate are chosen from the best of the Highlords personal soldiers, they have the most vital task should the city ever be overrun and invaders make it in through the Summit Gate. It would be down to them to defend the entrance to the Keep.” The man licked his lips and Boskags reached behind him to the flask of water, pouring it into a glass he went over to the man and holding the back of his head let him drink. Once he’d had two large mouthfuls Boskags returned to the chair.

  “The captain is chosen by the Highlord himself from candidates who have showed exemplary service and are voted for by the men who will serve under them.”

  “And the current captain, Miri?”

  “She served in the Highlords personal guard, before that she led men on hunt and kill missions along the border with the Western Empire. She is…” He licked his lips again and looked past Boskags at the flask but this time no drink was forthcoming.

  “Go on.”

  “It is said she is more ruthless than a Regulator, skilled with any weapon she is given and even when unarmed can wrestle most men to a standstill.”

  Boskags sat looking at the man for a while mulling over what he’d been told, none of it lightened his mood. He’d assumed the gate guards would be some of the best of the best and their captain equal to that. And now possibly they had a Regulator with them, things could get messy real quick.

  He looked back at the prisoner who was watching him warily obviously wondering if the questioning was over or just begun. Boskags nodded and got up heading for the door, he stood in the doorway his men outside lookin in and turned towards the prisoner.

  “See the prisoners are fed and watered.” He said to his men and left.

  Eleven

  Before a battle you have time to make your plans. If you are any good at your job you will already know the size of your enemy, you will know the lay of the land and you will know what men you have that you can rely on. Joakim didn’t have any of that nor did he have the time to formulate anything. He had two dead men tucked away and no way of knowing how many more were in the guard room, if he went by the weasels numbers he had no chance but if he went with his gut feeling, he probably still didn’t have much of a chance but it was better than none. There was of course the option of just getting out, but then there were the guards at the Summit Gate, who did they belong too. And there was a whole city out there with thousands of eyes some of which would be out there too keep an eye on events up here. Joakim had never been one to take the easy option before so he felt why change a habit of a lifetime.

  He’d positioned himself outside corridor that led to the guard room, he’d been listening, trying to pick up how many different voices he could hear. So far he was confident he’d heard three men speaking but then their voices were distorted by the long hallway and each had that hollow sound you get when you shout in a large empty space. Three or twenty-three it made no difference, he couldn’t stand out here much longer without running the risk of one of them coming out to check on their comrades or of someone coming down from the levels above.

  Sometimes the simplest course is to just walk up and knock on t
he door.

  Joakim took a deep breath and stretched his neck side to side and wiggled his arms flexing his fingers. He still had the element of surprise. Looking round nervously he assumed there were no other men out there, there couldn’t be else they’d have made their presence known by now. Shaking any doubts off he headed down the hallway.

  After five paces the hall curved to the left, Joakim slowed and edged forward with his back to the wall and the short sword in his hand held level with his leg. In the confines of the hallway the long sword would be of no use and all he’d end up doing was hitting lumps out of the plasterwork. The wall opposite had a light shining on it from further round the curve and the shadows of two figures seemed to dance across the wall. Joakim stopped and holding his breath listened.

  “Nineteen.”

  “Twenty-one”

  “Aw come on…” There was the sound of a hand slapping stone followed by the second voice laughing.

  “Come to papa, you feel brave enough to go another hand?” There was the sound of coins being dragged across stone.

  “You joking me that’s the last of my coin I’m out till we get paid for this job.”

  The second voice laughed again and there was the sound of coins clinking together.

  “I’m happy to take your marker, I know you’re good for it.” More coins clinked together but the first voice stayed silent. “Ah have it your way just don’t be sulking all night.” There was the sound of a drawstring being opened and coins dropping on more coins. “Go check on those two, they’ve been quiet out there probably asleep.”

  Joakim heard boots scrapping on the floor and one of the shadows grew to enormous size on the wall, he brought his short sword up stepping round the curve just as one of the men came the other way. He was older than Joakim with pockmarked skin and patchy receding grey hair, his mouth opened in surprise at seeing Joakim and he half turned to shout just as Joakim slid his blade up under his ribcage and into his heart. He made a squeak but nothing else, the suddenness of the blade killing him robbing him of speech, Joakim wasted no time and pulled the blade free and let the body drop as he stepped round him.

  There was another man sat on the floor with a square of cloth laid out in front of him with several dozen stone discs scattered across it. They’d been playing Paxs and judging by the bulging purse the second man held he’d certainly had a good night. He looked round at the sound of his comrade’s body hitting the ground, saw Joakim and tried to scramble to his feet. Joakim hit him hard on the back of the head with his pommel, the man folded with a grunt and Joakim stepped over him grabbing a handful of hair pulling his head back and ran his blade across his throat. Bloody splashed up the wall opposite and the man made a wheezing gurgle before Joakim let go of his hair and stepped back.

  He looked down at the two men and realised neither of them was armed with anything more than a dagger. What sort of guards leave their swords when on duty, they must have been so confident of their position they’d become complacent. Stupidity, whoever this Boskags was his choice of men was lacking. But even so Joakim knew that so far he’d been lucky and the only resistance he’d encountered he’d been able to surprise.

  That sort of luck could only last so long.

  He moved slowly on down the hallway that had straightened out and ended after another ten paces with two doors. Stepping up to them he listened at both, the one directly at the end of the hall was silent but the one to his right he could hear talking. Trying to guess what sort of layout the rooms were in he took a gamble that the one in front of him led to some cells, that would mean the other was some sort of office or even the captains quarters. Guessing the rooms didn’t give him any insight into what to do next, going through either door could mean running into more men than he could deal with even with the element of surprise.

  He mentally flipped a coin, dithering never solved anything and invariably in a situation like this got you killed, he opened the door in front of him. It opened up onto another hallway but this one had five doors down the left hand wall all with iron bars, as he stepped in and let the door close behind him a pair of hands grabbed the bars of the door closest to him.

  “If it’s not too much to ask you might want to empty the bucket in here the airs getting a bit ripe.” It was captain Miri.

  “Perhaps you should consider changing your diet.” Joakim stepped in front of the door and Miri stepped back, four men crowded up behind her and others appeared at the doors to the next two cells.

  “Captain Karesh, you surprise me.” She looked at him uncertain and had obviously made the assumption that he was with the men who’d imprisoned her. Then she looked down at his blade and her eyes widened at the blood still on it. “OK double surprise me.” Joakim looked down at the blade and shrugged.

  “Yeah well it’s been a busy evening.” He looked along the walls between the cell doors to see if there were any keys then turned his attention back to Miri. “Don’t suppose the keys are not in a room where there are men with swords are they?” Miri shook her head.

  “How many?”

  “They left six down here to watch us, I’m guessing by you being here and that blood on your sword that you’ve already dealt with some?”

  “Only two now.” One of her men whistled and there were voices from the other cells, he heard the word Regulator.

  “So the two in there shouldn’t be no trouble for you.” She smiled at him and he was struck once again by the familiarity of her face.

  “What’s the layout of the room?”

  “It’s my office, there’s a desk in the middle of the floor with one chair behind and two in front. Against the far wall is a cot I use when here on double or triple duties.”

  “The keys?”

  “There’s some hooks in the wall just inside the door.”

  Joakim nodded, he wondered how the two men left were armed if they were at all. He guessed all the weapons were in the room with them so they’d be closer to make a grab for them, he’d have to get in there quick and hopefully take them out before they knew what hit them. The only problem with that is he has no idea where in the room the men were and he’d only have a split second to get his bearings. He turned to the door then stopped and looked back at Miri.

  “How do you know me?”

  She leaned against the bars. “Get us out and I’ll tell you.”

  Joakim snorted and turned back to the door, he opened it a crack checking the hallway was clear before stepping out. He put his ear to the other door and could still hear the two men in there talking, he struggled to get his head around how lax all of them seemed to be. If anyone in the Regulators had behaved in this manner they wouldn’t have been Regulators for long. The voices sounded like they were right in front of the door but that or course could be misleading. They may have moved the furniture around, the desk might not be in front of the door anymore. He grabbed the handle and cleared his mind ready to charge in when a better idea came to him, he looked back down the hallway at the two men he’d killed and smiled to himself.

  He stepped back a pace and took a firm grip on his blade then kicked the door and called out weakly.

  “Help me…”

  He heard the scraping of chairs in the room and stepped to the side so his back was against the door that led to the cells. Standing there he was out of direct line of sight to whoever opened the door, and a second after he’d positioned himself the door flew open and one of the men ran into the hallway and skidded to a stop after a few paces when he spotted the bodies. The second man was moments behind him and careered into the back of his comrade nearly tipping the pair of them over, Joakim charged forward and gave the extra push that finished the topple.

  Both men went down in a tangle of arms and legs, the second had his sword out and in the fall had managed to stab his comrade through the side. The stabbed man cried out and tried to pull away but because of how they’d fallen all he managed doing was ripping the blade sideways doing more damage than if he’d l
eft it where it was. His cry became a scream of agony, Joakim had to finish this quick because even though he was sure there was no one left alive on this level who would come running to their aid, he had no way of knowing how well sound travelled in the Keep, there was a possibility there were men on the level above who could hear the screams.

  Joakim drove in with his blade and silenced the screaming man, his friend yelped as soon as the blood from his friends slit throat washed over him. He saw Joakim and tried to pull his sword out but it was stuck fast, in desperation he grabbed Joakim by the front of his tunic and pulled him towards him. Joakim was overbalanced having stretched past to silence the screaming man, his foot slipped on the blood that was spreading across the floor and he went down onto of both men.

  It was now just a wrestling match, the man let go of his blade, it was no use at these close quarters and grabbed Joakim’s head bringing it down on his dead comrade’s shoulder twice. Joakim managed to get his arm up before he nose-dived into the shoulder a second time but the first time had made his eyes water and his nose bleed. He let go of his blade and twisted round grabbing the man by the throat and head butted him. The man cried out as his nose squashed and the blood began to flow, Joakim butted him a second time before he adjusted his grip on his throat and began squeezing. The man was hitting Joakim around the head and shoulders then he tried doing the same to Joakim but he’d kept his head low between his shoulders so the man couldn’t get to his throat.

  The man began to panic and was lashing about punching and scratching, he tried to bring his legs round so he could kick but they were part trapped under his dead comrade and Joakim was partly on top of him. Joakim squeezed tighter. It took a lot of effort to strangle a man but eventually his face turning purple the man’s struggles weakened. He was making a keening noise that sounded like pleading but the glare in his eyes was intense and Joakim knew if he relented the man would sure as water is wet kill him.