by Tom Lloyd
‘Load sparkers,’ Olut reminded the two remaining with her as the rest set off. She shoved a cartridge into the breech of her own weapon. If they did have a squad of Knights-Charnel in pursuit, their best chance was outgunning them. The soldiers would only be carrying icers for fear of collateral damage to the city.
Lynx replaced his cartridge and slapped his gun’s breech closed as they set off, keeping up as best they could while watching behind the group. The empty street echoed with the sound of their boots. It sounded dull after the thunderous gunfire, but was more than enough to make pursuit simple. The houses were dark, but he glimpsed faces at the windows – fearful merchants peeking past their curtains.
They turned the corner and entered a wide avenue of tall three- and four-storey houses. Sandstone walls and pale brick fascias loomed on either side, shuttered shopfronts hid in the shadows of awnings. The street ran straight for fifty yards towards a square colonnade, in the shadows of which Kas waited with the horses. Safir held back, waiting at the corner to spy for pursuit while the remaining mercenaries scurried towards their horses.
Two figures staggered out from an alley and the whole group slewed right, guns coming up like a disciplined unit before one of the drunks yelped and fell backwards. The other stared open-mouthed at the mercenaries then turned tail and fled, leaving his friend on the floor, but before that one could move they had set off again. Just as they reached the alleyway a hiss cut through the night, then the thump of Safir’s boots and flutter of his long kilt as he sprinted to catch them up.
‘More Charnelers,’ the man spat as he reached them. ‘Five or six at least.’
‘Ulfer’s crumpled horn – a whole squad?’ Anatin shot Lynx a dark look. ‘Sure you didn’t meet any trouble today?’
‘None,’ Lynx said calmly, ‘and I checked for a tail before I got back. This ain’t me.’
‘In case none of you noticed,’ Toil broke in with a fierce grin, ‘tonight’s all about me.’
‘This is your doing?’
‘Dumbshit mercs,’ she muttered. ‘You think I couldn’t get out of there by myself if it was just the Princip and his guards? The man was negotiating with the Orders, expanding their numbers in the city to smooth over any obstacles to his control of the Council of the Assayed. There’re patrols all over the city, slowly extending their grip.’
‘Expanding their numbers?’
‘They’ve more’n three times the soldiers than the Assayers. Soon he’ll have the army he needs.’
That stopped Anatin. ‘An army ready to take over? And we just tweaked the Lord-Errant’s beard? Oh, bloody thanks for not telling me that before.’
Toil rolled her eyes as he mounted hurriedly. ‘Shattered gods, man! Not all of ’em will be ready to ride out in the middle of the night.’
‘Fuck does that matter?’ Anatin snapped, sawing at the reins of his horse as he manoeuvred it around. ‘They’ll have full squadrons of cavalry, dragoons too most likely – most of our company are on foot! They left the city yesterday; it’ll take no more’n a day before they’re caught.’
‘We should get a head start then.’ Still she didn’t mount, instead kneeling beside one of the pillars.
The mercenaries watched her for a moment then Teshen and Lynx slipped from their horses too and loaded icers. The ice-bolts had far better range and accuracy than sparkers, for all the chaos and destruction those could wreak. If they outnumbered the pursuing Charnelers, felling one or two might see them off. Before their pursuers could appear, though, a chunk of stone burst off the pillar above Toil’s head in a white cloud. More gunshots rang out and the mercenaries ducked as icers whistled past all too close.
‘Shit, another patrol!’
Lynx swung around left, his aim drawn by the white muzzle-flash of their attackers. Movement in the street was all he could make out in the dark, no white uniforms but even a district watchman might be a half-decent shot. The crash of his gun was echoed a moment later by the double-crack of two more. Further back down the avenue he saw a half-dozen figures scurrying to cover. One was winged and spun around, howling, the rest fell into nearby doorways.
‘We’ll get pinned,’ Anatin growled as he snapped off a shot and reloaded. ‘Rain fire on ’em all.’
‘Burners?’ Lynx shouted, appalled. ‘You’ll start a firestorm!’
‘Only advantage we got,’ the man yelled back.
Lynx glanced at his comrades. Reft was beside him, loading an earther into his gun. Toil clearly had fewer qualms about using fire-bolts in a residential street and already had her gun loaded.
‘There are people in every house!’ Lynx shouted.
‘A burning house don’t help us,’ she replied, nodding at the street ahead. ‘They’re locals, just need to scare them off.’
Belatedly Lynx realised the patrol were too far for a burner to reach; the destructive bolts just didn’t have the range, even if they didn’t need accuracy. He swore and pulled a sparker, bearing right towards the street they’d run out of. Reft raised his gun and the deep boom of his earther roared out through the night – despite his great size, the hairless man was still jolted back by the shot. A dark path split the air ahead of them, night turning in on itself before it hit and Lynx felt the ground shudder under the impact. Cobbles exploded left and right as a furrow burst through the street fifty yards away. Screams rang out, glass shattered, stones and wreckage drummed against the buildings on either side.
A flash of movement came from the right. Lynx checked a moment then saw the distinctive shape of guns, the flash of white tabards, and pulled the trigger. A jagged tear in the dark spat out from the muzzle of his mage-gun; a bolt of lightning corkscrewed across the street to consume the nearest Charneler. Spiked white claws leaped in all directions, savaging another and slashing at the wooden awning of the nearest house.
Toil took that as her cue, not bothering to aim much as she fired the burner down the centre of the street. A dulled, animal roar burst from the gun as an orange streak raced forward, dropping short of the Charnelers. A great whump of yellow flame burst out from the pale tip of that streak and mushroomed out – fire reaching almost from one side of the wide street to the other.
‘You’ll be the death of us,’ Lynx muttered as Toil stood and made for the horses.
‘Not yet.’ Toil smiled as she passed him. Anything more was lost in the crash of gunshots ringing out in her wake, then they all raced for their mounts and there was no time to argue.
‘Later then,’ Lynx said.
Toil swung gracefully into her saddle while the mercenaries around her clambered up. She reached out and gave him a little pat on the head.
‘Aye, I have that effect on people.’
Chapter 4
(then)
Lynx grunted and sat abruptly up. A familiar flicker of panic ran through him until the room came into focus. He shook the sleep from his head and disentangled his legs from the blanket, reaching down between the bed and wall until he touched his fingers to his dagger hilt.
‘So much for me thinking I was stealthy in the mornings,’ chuckled Kas from across the room.
Lynx froze. The dark-skinned woman was standing at the washbasin, naked as the day she was born and wiping a sodden cloth over her body. A handful of scars stood out in light curtailed by shutters closed over the narrow window, their abrupt lines highlighting the lean, muscular shape of her body.
‘I, ah, I’m a light sleeper,’ he muttered, unable to drag his eyes away.
‘That much I worked out,’ Kas said, deftly bundling her hair up so she could wipe the back of her neck down. Lynx found himself transfixed by the trails of water running down to her buttocks.
‘One day I want to hear that story.’
‘Eh?’ Lynx jerked back to his senses. ‘What?’
She paused and pursed her lips at him. ‘See anything you like?’ Lynx could only cough, but that was enough to make her laugh out loud. ‘Boy, you really are out of practice around women.’
‘Around anyone,’ he said, scratching his bulging belly and swinging his legs around so he was sitting on the side of the bed.
‘Around anyone,’ she agreed with a smile. ‘But last night was a creditable effort at remembering what to do with a woman. Bit o’ practice and you might be half-decent at it.’
A stupid grin stole across Lynx’s face at that. There’d been more than a little drinking before they turned in, enough to cast a pleasant haze over his memory, but it had also washed away the awkwardness of unfamiliarity.
‘Aye, you too.’ He stood and crossed the two steps to where she stood, sliding one hand around the taut curve of her left buttock.
‘Me? I’m more’n half-decent,’ she insisted, playfully slapping his hand away. ‘I’m fucking great, ask anyone.’
‘Anyone?’
She coughed at his tone and turned to face him, one hand slipping around his thick neck to pull him closer to kiss. Lynx did so willingly, but as their lips touched he felt her fingers tighten around his balls. ‘Anyone,’ she repeated softly. ‘Might not mean they know it first hand, o’ course.’ She looked down and tightened her grip a fraction more. ‘Looks like someone enjoys that.’
Lynx followed her gaze. ‘Depends who’s doing it,’ he said huskily. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. Kas pushed her hips against his and kissed him long and hard before she broke off and leaned back, giving him a sharp slap on the buttock for good measure.
‘Hold up a moment, soldier!’
Lynx blinked. ‘What?’
‘Dawn’s come, time for grub and muster.’ She cocked her head at him. ‘Plus, you’ll be getting Anatin’s lecture.’
‘Why? He got his eye on you?’
Kas shook her head and pulled the damp cloth from behind her, draping it over his stiffening cock before slipping clear of his embrace. ‘There’s rules in the company, rules we all keep to.’
Lynx frowned. ‘About sex? He didn’t seem to mind last night. His second slipped off with a recruit, didn’t she?’
‘Aye, and he didn’t mind then, but as of muster we’ll be working. Rules change between work and play. The man likes to play hard – drinking, gambling, screwing, all the fun things in life – but that changes when we’re at work.’
Lynx regarded her a moment, wondering if she was trying to let him down gently or something else was going on. From the look on her face, and the way she was making no effort to cover herself, it didn’t seem like she was full of regrets.
‘He’ll expect us to explain it so he don’t have to go on about it,’ Kas continued after a pause. ‘Payl will be saying the same to that boy, whatever his name was. Anatin finds someone breaking the rules, he’ll shoot ’em himself. Once had a couple on guard duty who sneaked off to screw against a tree and we lost fifteen of the company that night.’
Slowly, Lynx nodded and turned to the washbasin. Standing there with his cock out and his blood high, her words weren’t filtering in to his head too quickly, but the years had taught him to keep a closed face to the world until everything made sense.
‘Why don’t you explain it to me then?’ he said quietly, rinsing out the cloth before starting to wipe his body down.
‘It’s simple enough, has to be for all of us to remember. No screwing while we work. We’re mercs and we fight for a living. If we let personal shit get in the way, folk die. Anatin only likes grown-ups in his company; he’s seen enough of dumbshit farmboys thinking the rules don’t apply to them. Might be, the odd evening out on the road, he’ll call leisure time for anyone not on guard duty, but that’ll only happen when we’re safe and secure, which ain’t often on most roads.’
‘And you all keep to it, no issues?’
‘Hah, wouldn’t quite put it like that. Mercs aren’t the cleverest folk around.’
When he turned around again, she’d pulled on her small things and was untangling her trousers from the pile of discarded clothes. ‘But you do?’
She paused and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Aye, I do. Some folk’ll fall in love first tumble they have – me, I can enjoy it for what it is and go back to work. Don’t mean I’ve not got feelings, but it’ll take more’n one night for me to fall for anyone.’ She gave him a sly smile. ‘Don’t take it as a complaint though, half-decent’s a pretty high standard.’
Finally Lynx did laugh. ‘Suppose I’ll take what I can get then,’ he said, ‘so let’s start with my clothes.’
She tossed him his drawers and he pulled them on quickly, feeling less foolish now he wasn’t completely naked.
‘I meant what I said, though,’ she added in a more serious tone.
‘About what?’
‘I want your story one day.’ She brushed the tattoo on his cheek with her fingers.
Lynx tensed. ‘Not much to tell.’
Kas nodded, pulled her leather jacket on and began to lace it up. ‘If you say so, but most folk don’t wedge ’emselves against the wall and flinch if they’re touched in their sleep.’
He frowned and looked away, very aware he was showing all too much but just as aware he couldn’t help himself. ‘Aye, well, I’m used to sleeping alone.’
Kas nodded and sat to haul her long boots on while Lynx fetched the rest of his clothes. ‘That you are. But some of these bruises I got the fun way last night, and a couple I got when I brushed your arm and your hand closed like a vice on me.’ She held up a hand. ‘I ain’t demanding answers, just saying I reckon you’ve got some history to you. One day I’d be glad to hear it.’
Lynx pursed his lips. Unseen by Kas he touched his thumb to the silver ring he wore and nodded. ‘That’s the thing about history,’ he said gruffly, ‘it’s all in the past. Best place for it.’
‘Not sure it is all in the past for you,’ she said as she grabbed her weapons, ‘but it’s your history and you tell it as you want, Lynx. In the meantime, I’m for a piss and some food.’ She slapped him on the backside one final time and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him close for a last kiss that was a lot more tender than before.
‘Thanks for a good night all the same,’ Kas whispered. ‘Don’t dally, though. I’m not pulling rank; if a recruit’s the last to muster Anatin might make an example of ’em and you get Reft, not your superior.’
‘Get him for what?’
She grinned. ‘Stay here a while longer and you can find out.’
Muster wasn’t quite what Lynx expected. Over the years he’d seen quite a variety, from the arrow-straight ranks of So Han parade grounds to the sergeants-at-arms of mercenary armies corralling their troops with bullwhips. Today was a little different, mostly because the man in charge, Anatin, was still so drunk he couldn’t even stand.
The courtyard round the back of the Witchlight Inn was a spacious square, with plenty of room for two-score-odd mercenaries to mill aimlessly around while carthorses were being hitched up to three large wagons. They were all painted red and blue, presumably the company’s colours; two had canvas-covered frames, while the largest was a caravan with a rounded wooden roof and a shuttered window at the side. It was easy to pick out some of those he’d played with last night, most obvious among them being the pale giant, Reft, who was even vaster than Lynx had remembered. The morning light seemed to make the man’s hairless skin glow – he could almost have been a Wisp but for the slabs of muscle.
They don’t speak either, Lynx reminded himself, casting his mind back to the one time he’d glimpsed a member of that underground-dwelling race and heard their story. Never heard of a half-breed before, though. Is that even possible? And Banesh’s Promise, was his human parent a giant?
At Reft’s side was his scowling companion, Deern, and behind them the white-haired seer, Estal. She paused in her conversation with an elegantly dressed easterner with an extravagant moustache to give Lynx a nod. The easterner followed her gaze and had a long, hard look at Lynx himself, but Lynx ignored it. With brown skin, flowing black hair and, for some reason, a skirt, the man
was clearly an exile of Infri or somewhere like that, well away from anywhere So Han had brutalised. He had the lithe build of a duellist, though, and protruding over his shoulder was an ornately worked brass gun butt – no doubt he held a high rank in the company and was sizing up his new comrade.
On Lynx’s right, slumped in an armchair that had been dragged outside, was their illustrious commander, Anatin, with his lieutenant, Payl, at his side looking sternly on. The man’s hair looked greyer and lank in the morning light, his clothes stained. He gave a piteous whimper, just about audible above the general hubbub.
Lynx reminded himself a soldier didn’t last long if he kept aloof from the rest of his company, so he ambled over to one of the shop boys who’d been part of the game last night, Fashail. He nudged the youth with his elbow. Fashail jumped and darted to one side, only belatedly realising he wasn’t being jostled unceremoniously.
‘Got told to keep out the way, eh?’ Lynx asked, trying to remember how to look friendly. ‘She does seem a stickler for the rules, that one.’
The only response he got was a grunt and downcast eyes.
‘Had a good night?’
A nod this time and reddened cheeks.
‘You got the talk about company rules this morning too?’
‘I, yes, I did.’ Finally Fashail looked Lynx in the eye. He was a fair-looking youth, tall and strong with a scattering of freckles on his tanned cheeks. He had no kit or weapons, of course, just a heavy jacket and a belt-knife.
‘What—’ Lynx didn’t get any further as Fashail’s companion for the night stepped forward.
‘FORM SUITS!’ Payl yelled across the courtyard. The mercenaries were jerked into silence with the exception of their commander, who shuddered and lolled sideways to be sick.