Princess of Blood

by Tom Lloyd

  Lastani blinked in surprise and didn’t move. The guard growled but before he could do anything a voice came from further down the alley.

  ‘Too early for a bit of chivalry is it, boys?’

  Both men turned to see a smiling woman sauntering up the alley behind the taller guard. She had her hands spread wide to make it clear she was unarmed, wearing fingerless gloves and a red-stitched leather coat buttoned right up to a white silk scarf. Her hat was tilted to one side, shading her face, but dark red hair was visible down the back of her neck.

  ‘Get lost, bitch.’

  ‘Clearly it is,’ the woman commented, answering her own question.

  ‘You get one chance to walk away,’ the first guard warned. ‘Take it and fuck off.’

  The woman paused and cocked her head. ‘Don’t you know who you’re talking to?’

  ‘Couldn’t give a shit neither.’

  ‘Well I suppose that makes two of us,’ she acknowledged. ‘More important, do you know who she is?’

  ‘Aye.’

  There was a pause, as though the woman was waiting for something, but when it didn’t come she just sighed.

  ‘That was your cue, love,’ she muttered, tilting her head to one side to give Lastani a look. ‘Never mind. Hey, who’s that?’ She pointed off to her right but neither guard moved.

  ‘Think we’re stupid?’

  ‘A little bit, yeah.’

  Lastani glanced over and gasped. Atieno of all people was standing there, half-hidden around the corner of a building. At her gasp the first guard did look and swore as he fumbled to turn and bring his gun to bear. This time Lastani was ready, however, and a stream of cold magic shot out from her hands to envelop the man. Nothing as damaging as an icer, but the burst of cold was like a slap to the face all the same and the guard was enveloped by white fog.

  That moment of distraction was all the woman needed. She raced forward, jinking left and right towards the other guard while he was still bewildered. She grabbed his gun and yanked it out of his hands, kicking him in the side of the knee for good measure. She followed that with a full-blooded slap across his face that rocked him backwards as a small cloud of yellowish dust was dislodged from her glove. The man gasped and reeled while Toil hurled the gun, butt first, at the other guard hidden in Lastani’s fog.

  By the sound it hit something and Lastani released the magic a moment later – just as the guard staggered sideways out of the mist. His hands frozen to the metal of his gun, the man was still trying to free himself as Toil made up the ground between them. A punch with the heel of her hand snapped the guard’s head back and released another puff of yellow. He staggered a step more then buckled and fell.

  Lastani looked back at the first guard to see him on his knees, already limp and toppling face first to the ground. The strange woman checked them both then yanked off her gloves and stowed them in a bag as she approached Lastani.

  ‘Lastani Ufre, I presume?’ the woman said with something akin to a purr. ‘Or do I owe them an apology?’ There was a flicker of delight in her eyes, the look of a woman who liked to prove herself against the odds at every opportunity.

  ‘No, ah – yes, that’s me. You’re her? Toil?’

  ‘The one and only.’

  She looked down at the guards. ‘And them?’

  ‘Not dead, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Toil said. ‘But out for a while yet. Come on.’

  She grabbed the ankle of one and dragged him to an unobtrusive corner while Atieno did the same with the other. Then they collected the dropped guns and tossed them aside too.

  ‘Let’s go then.’

  ‘Wait – my books!’ Lastani almost wailed as Toil grabbed her arm and started to lead her away.

  ‘Books? Where?’

  Lastani pointed. ‘Round the back of the Ovens. I dropped them out the window when I saw the soldiers.’

  ‘Clever girl,’ Toil said approvingly. ‘Atieno – can you fetch them? You’re not what they’re looking for unless they were tipped off; no reason they’ll question the owner too hard. I’m no academic, but a lone woman attracts more attention when that’s what they’re looking for.’

  Atieno regarded her a moment then nodded. ‘I’ll meet you back at your lodging house.’

  Toil beckoned to Lastani. ‘Come on, we need to get clear. If we’re quick we’ll be back before Lynx has eaten all the breakfast.’

  ‘Who’s Lynx?’

  ‘Just shift yourself.’

  A pile of mushrooms wasn’t the finest way to start the day, in Lynx’s opinion. True there were a lot of them, true they’d been fried in butter and garlic, but after a heaped plate his stomach was still of the opinion that there was something missing.

  ‘Cheer up,’ Llaith said, nudging Lynx’s shoulder as he sat beside him. ‘It could be worse.’

  ‘Is bacon too much to ask for?’ he replied. ‘Honestly, just a few rashers. What sort of a broken-down excuse for a town is this when bacon’s not on the menu?’

  ‘Oh it’s available, but we’re getting the discount rate so they’re not wasting bacon on the likes of us.’

  Lynx frowned. ‘Who do I need to throw money at to change that?’

  ‘The cook, I’m guessing.’ Llaith paused, watching Lynx for a moment longer before laughing. ‘Gods, you’re really fixed on this, aren’t you?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Because, my friend, you’ve not even asked how it could be worse – or noticed for yourself.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  Lynx cast around the room for a while. At least a third of the company were there breaking their fasts, most staring disconsolately at great mugs of spiced tea said to ward off winter colds, but one man caught his eye. He was a squat, balding mercenary with great galaxies of freckles across his chest and arms – interrupted by mismatched army tattoos and a Seven of Sun card tattoo on his right biceps.

  ‘The hell’s up with Brols?’

  Currently Brols was inspecting the wall, one cheek twitching furiously as he muttered some sort of crazed incantation and made obscure gestures with his hands.

  ‘The newest game – evidence if ever it was needed that Varain and Braqe should never ever be allowed to get bored in each other’s company.’

  Lynx looked a while longer at Brols then around at the others eating, then at his own plate.

  ‘Oh, for …’

  ‘Yup,’ Llaith chuckled happily. ‘Mushroom pot-luck every breakfast for us. The cook turned out to be happy to play along, now we just have to run a book on how long it takes for Anatin to lose his shit over it.’

  Lynx pushed his plate away and shook his head. ‘We’ve hardly been here long enough to get bored, have we?’

  ‘You’ve never got between Varain and a drink.’ Llaith shrugged. ‘So – where’s your mistress this morning?’

  ‘Mistress? Oh, dunno. Why?’

  ‘Just wondering,’ he said with a wink. ‘You just give us the word, Lynx, and we’ll clear out for the night. Safir and I understand what it’s like, the need for privacy. Could be tonight we’ll be getting an invite to a booze-barge in the bay anyway. No need to say anything, just nod if you want us to make a special effort, mebbe take Layir too. The boy’s too shy around women so it’d be good for him.’

  Lynx looked away, as much to avoid the filthy leer on Llaith’s face as embarrassment. He wasn’t one for discussing his personal life, less so when he had no damn idea what was going on in it. Toil remained an enigma to him – the kisses yesterday aside, she’d been as elusive as a leaf on the wind for weeks. Whether that was by accident or design he couldn’t say, but wouldn’t rule either out.

  ‘Shattered gods, sure – what Layir really needs is a boost to his confidence around the ladies,’ Lynx reflected. ‘Given how he made a damn good effort to screw every willing woman in Su Dregir, married or not, what the boy really needs is a new challenge in a city of proud noble families and regular duels.’

  ‘Boy
can handle himself in a duel.’

  ‘And you want to explain that to the Envoy when it gets brought up at court?’

  ‘Ain’t you the teacher’s pet all of a sudden?’ Llaith snickered. ‘By “Envoy” you mean Toil, right?’

  ‘Fine, go do whatever the—’ Lynx didn’t finish his sentence as the door banged open and the woman herself entered, this time with a young woman close to half her age with short, white hair. ‘Looks like she’s got her girl then,’ he mused.

  ‘That’s the mage?’ Llaith whispered. ‘Not a bad-looking thing.’

  ‘Who could freeze your nuts off with a flick of her fingers,’ Lynx reminded him.

  ‘Ah,’ Llaith said sagely. ‘I’ve known girls like that.’

  ‘This is Lynx,’ Toil said as she reached them. ‘The one with the dirty grin’s Llaith, don’t believe a word he says.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, miss,’ Llaith replied, rising and deftly kissing Lastani’s hand while Lynx grunted a hello.

  ‘Where’s your friend?’ Lynx asked. ‘You get into any trouble?’

  Toil nodded back towards the door. ‘He’ll be following soon. Might have some bags with him, though, fancy going to help him?’

  ‘You serious or just want me to bugger off for a bit?’

  ‘Serious. He’s fetching her books. They’re searching hard this morning. We ran into a couple of noble house guards who’d joined in the hunt.’

  Lynx nodded and rose. ‘Fancy a walk, Llaith?’

  ‘And leave these two lovely ladies all alone? Not a chance.’

  ‘Him I do want to just bugger off,’ Toil said. ‘The pair of you, go meet Atieno and get him back here as fast as you can. We’ve got work to do.’

  Chapter 13

  When the three men returned to the lodgings they discovered news had arrived while they were out. Aben, one of the Envoy’s personal guards, had sent a message to Toil that there was to be an announcement the following day. In an attempt to calm the tensions and uncertainty in the city, the Monarch was to speak to the great and the good about the labyrinth and the Envoy was naturally invited.

  Anatin and Toil sat at a table discussing the matter, various members of the Cards watching them like they were scorpions about to be pitted against each other. The company commander looked anxious, unhappy about something Toil had suggested. Anatin had a pack of cards in his one remaining hand, flipping the top card around to the bottom with a practised flick. The cards whispered like a blade being sharpened on leather, laden with promise. Two of his inner circle, Payl and the seer, Estal, sat close beside him and looked almost as cheerful.

  With Atieno going to join Lastani, sat apart from the arguing mercenaries, Lynx found a seat with Kas who shifted to rest her elbow on his shoulder, making to whisper to him before a curse from Anatin cut her off.

  ‘Dammit, woman, how’s that a good idea?’

  ‘I’m paying your fee, remember?’ Toil said. ‘You knew this is what I really hired you for, not some bloody escort duty.’

  ‘You said you needed troops in reserve while you offered your services. We’re not a relic hunter crew and I don’t much fancy losing my other fucking hand to whatever it is they say is protecting the labyrinth.’

  ‘I can’t offer my services without a crew to back me up – otherwise I’m just some crazy bitch off the street wanting to get involved.’

  ‘Funny, it looks to me like that’s exactly what you are.’

  Toil’s knuckles tightened briefly. ‘All I need,’ she said in a low voice, ‘is a few fighters I can trust to do what the fuck I tell them and all the rest are show. I won’t be taken seriously without a crew at my command but most of the expedition will be Jarraziran.’

  ‘So you assume! What if the Monarch thows all her regiments at this mystery shitbag maze to make sure she gets the prize before anyone else sneaks in? Or decides to use this large crew o’ yours as fucking bait for these murderous Duegar ghosts we’re hearing about? Reckon we can just change our minds then?’

  ‘Leave me to sort that out.’

  ‘Along with a whole lot o’ other things you seem to reckon’s none of our business.’

  Toil slammed her hand on the table. ‘I pay you, you follow orders. Isn’t that how it works in your business? Have I spent all these years under some bloody misapprehension about what the word “mercenary” means?’

  ‘And the first rule of the Mercenary Deck is to still be alive to get paid so I ain’t fucking following you to play with horrors in the dark.’

  Toil glared at him a while then took a long deep breath. ‘I thought the first rule of the Cards was “don’t get caught cheating”?’

  Anatin blinked at her, thrown by the change in direction, but Lynx recognised an effort to diffuse the tension in the room. Clearly so did Payl, as the woman cleared her throat.

  ‘That one’s more of a philosophy,’ Payl said. ‘The first rule of the Cards is “don’t ask Llaith about venereal disease”.’

  ‘Hey!’ Llaith objected as there came a few cautious laughs. ‘I thought it was “don’t play knives with Teshen”?’

  Payl made a dismissive gesture. ‘Third or fourth at least. Well behind the gory details of your poor judgement.’

  ‘Surely the first rule is “don’t shoot your employer”?’ Kas joined in. ‘Which someone had to learn the hard way if memory serves.’

  ‘Or “never believe anything Himbel says when he’s drunk”,’ suggested Llaith.

  ‘“Never scratch your balls with your gun,” would be a good one,’ Payl said, ‘Saw a man do that once. Almost shit myself laughing.’

  Before anyone else could join in Anatin stood up abruptly, his chair clattering to the ground behind him.

  ‘Enough, the lot of you! Your point’s made; you’re all fucking heroes who laugh in the face of danger so you’ll follow Toil wherever she leads you.’ Without seeming to be aware of it he was massaging the stump of his left arm where he’d had a hand once, before he’d gone into Shadow’s Deep. ‘We’ll play along,’ he said to Toil. ‘You’ll have your relic hunter crew when required, but only those who’re dumb enough to volunteer actually go with you – explaining any shortfall to the Monarch is your problem.’

  He reached down and grabbed a card off the table, brandishing it for a moment before flicking it at Toil’s face. She caught the card and calmly set it face up on the table. It was the Jester of Stars, the card worn by Ashis – one of the mercenaries who’d died in Shadows Deep.

  ‘I understand,’ Toil said. ‘In the meantime, you’re all in my employ still so … you.’ She pointed at one of the mercenaries. ‘It’s Haphori right?’

  ‘Yeah – ah, sir,’ the man said.

  ‘Right. Get to the Envoy’s townhouse, find his guards; either Aben or Barra. If you meet the captain just tell him you’ve been sent for Teshen, he’s needed back here and you’re to replace him for the meantime, okay? Take this guy, Crast is it?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Good. You two tell Aben or Barra it’s time to start moving and they should make supper plans.’

  ‘Supper plans?’ Anatin broke in. ‘What in the name of Catrac’s blood are you on about?’

  ‘I want to see this announcement for myself,’ she explained after pointing towards the door and sending Crast and Haphori on their way. ‘The Envoy will get an invite, us not so much. So I need to have the Envoy’s aides out of action for a day or so, make him scout around for someone who can serve as aide for him in a pinch.’

  ‘And he’ll choose you?’

  ‘Any of you geniuses impressed your learning upon him? No? Well that’s me shocked.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Then I find out who I need to charm to get an audience with the Monarch, mebbe a sight of the competion too since I’m not likely to be the only one who’s heard about the labyrinth outside of Jarrazir.’ Toil craned her neck to look over the assembled faces and find Lastani.

  ‘There you are. Before I can impress the Monarch
I need to know all I can about the labyrinth. Inside knowledge and maybe even a guide to hand could tip the balance.’ She looked around the assembled mercenaries. ‘Until I’ve got myself positioned to be useful, you all just sit tight like good little children, hear me? That means no more making this place into a gambling den, understood? The last thing I need is you all getting arrested or some broken-headed grunt making free with a knife and messing everything up.’

  ‘No wonder the Duegar died out if their foreplay was all such a fucking disappointment.’

  Chotel nodded and turned to face Bade, the grin on his lieutenant’s face almost invisible in the dark. ‘So much for the fabled Labyrinth of Jarrazir, eh?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Kastelian sighed. ‘You wanted this to be more exciting?’

  ‘Well, I’ll grant that no ghostly horrors emerging from the walls to butcher us is considered a good thing, but still … I’ve done shits with more magnificence.’

  It really had been dull. The first set of steps led down to an oval chamber, where just a handful of glyphs glowed faintly from the bare rock, with a tunnel entrance to the rear. The chamber wasn’t even big given the cavernous halls and mile-deep mines he’d seen in his career, nothing to impress at all.

  Bade had kept well back and thrown two mage-beads – the simple glass balls every mage kept – into the room and brief flares of fire and ice erupted over their respective glyphs to appease the guardian. He’d spent a while inspecting and checking the rest of the room before ordering down the remaining supplies with his crew, but at last they’d set off towards the labyrinth proper.

  The tunnel had proved to be a long gentle spiral descending twenty-odd yards further underground before running level for a quarter of a mile only to open out into another empty space as unimpressive as the last, with one modest exception. There were no glyphs, no signs that there was a danger there, but Bade hadn’t lived this long being reckless with his own life so he spent a long time investigating before going any further. He used both Duegar lanterns and a white alchemical orb to check the space for any markings before finally approaching the stone door at the far end.