by Tom Lloyd
‘Prove it,’ Lynx broke in, nodding towards the woman. ‘If she’s no mage, free her hands and give her something to charge.’
‘I’ll do no such thing. She’s a criminal!’
‘Why? Even a mage wouldn’t be able to kill all of you and make her escape.’
‘My patience is at an end, Master Lynx.’
The mercenary turned so his gun was pointing at the leader’s face. ‘Mine too, Commander. It’s time to release her and see if she can prove her claim. You ain’t moving on until something happens.’
‘Okedi,’ Ntois growled. ‘Check her binds are secure and ride on.’
Lynx felt something tighten inside him. You choose to do what’s right, even if it means you’re dying that day.
The man beside the young woman leaned forward, Lynx found his eyes drawn to the movement, but he knew it would be a diversion. As soon as Lynx glanced away, Ntois grabbed the mage-pistol at his waist. He had it drawn in an instant, but Lynx gave him no time and fired from the hip with his long gun. The deafening shot took Ntois in the throat and rocked him back. There was an astonished look on the man’s face as the white rime of frost stole over his skin – whitening his flesh like an actor at the theatre. A gasp of blood-tinted mist exploded from the back of his head like a fleeing soul as the horses shied from the gunshot and the body slumped sideways.
With no time to reload Lynx swung with his empty gun and slammed the barrel against the wrist of the first knight to reach for his own. Turning he tried to strike at the next man but was kicked in the chest and stumbled backwards. The gun fell from his hands so he hauled his sword free, trying to get it up towards one of the knights before he was shot, but before anyone else died there was a shout from behind them.
‘Hold or die!’ Teshen roared over Anatin’s squawks of rage. ‘You too, Lynx, stay your blade!’
He did as he was told, turning to see Teshen with a mage-gun levelled at the knights and half of the Tempest mercenaries scrambling to follow his lead. The knights froze, one then three then a dozen guns pointing their way as more of the mercenaries swarmed forward, backing up their comrades on instinct.
‘All of you, bloody stop!’ Anatin yelled, scarlet with fury. ‘Teshen, what the buggery d’ya think you’re doing?’
‘Keeping the man beside me,’ Teshen said, still sighting down the barrel of his gun. ‘It’s what we do – and better’n letting some shit-licking zealots kill one of our own.’
‘He bloody ain’t one of our own much longer!’ Anatin brandished his mage-pistol in the air. ‘Not after pulling this shit. Cards, take a damn step back the lot of you. The first man on either side here to pull the trigger I’ll fucking kill myself, got that?’
No one spoke, but no one fired either and Anatin sensibly let everyone take a breath before continuing. A few moments of silence did as much good as orders when someone’s blood was high.
‘Now, I’m going to stand in between the lot of you,’ Anatin continued in a calmer voice. ‘Any bastard shoots me and I’m going to get really angry, get it?’
Again there was silence so Anatin nudged his horse forward, forcing Lynx to step back and away from the knights. ‘Lynx – the only reason I haven’t shot you dead is that it would leave me with an empty gun and, like I said, I plan on shooting the first of the rest of you who fires.’ He cocked his head at Lynx and pointed with his pistol at the dead commander. ‘I do need to ask exactly what you were thinking there, given the Knights-Charnel are one of the biggest Militant Orders in the whole crap-steaming world?’
‘He was drawing, didn’t have a whole lot of choice.’
‘Oh, right, guess that makes it okay then, does it?’
Lynx shook his head. ‘She’s a mage, they’d captured her like slavers and were going to kill anyone who got in the way of that.’
‘And that, you soft-witted streak of dung, is the damned way o’ the world round these parts,’ Anatin spat. ‘You might not like it, but picking a fight with a huge army who don’t care for your opinion ain’t much of an alternative.’
‘Only one I got.’
‘Commander,’ said the female knight in a tight, angry voice. ‘Now is not the time for debate. Your man’s murdered one of our officers. Such an act demands blood in response.’
‘Oh, please don’t start dictating to me, Paladin,’ Anatin snapped, ‘not when you got thirty guns pointing your way.’
He pointed his pistol at the mage, who flinched until she realised he was just addressing her. ‘Half these impotent halfwits can’t shoot worth a damn, girly, so I’d sidle away from your friends there, but the rest are crack shots and now ain’t the time for anyone to get uppity with me.’
‘You would prefer vengeance to come from my Order?’ the Charneler said in a quieter tone as the young mage tried to urge her horse out of the firing line. The paladin had a sword-scar on her face and a broken nose; no stranger to violence and not intimidated by Anatin’s words, but she recognised the situation she was in.
‘I’ve got no beef with the Knights-Charnel,’ Anatin said softly.
‘And I assure you, they will not have one with you if you hand this man over to us. Mercenaries are a disparate folk, the actions of one rogue need not reflect poorly on the remainder of the company.’
‘You can’t have him,’ Teshen said, gun now aimed at the woman.
‘Who the fucksticks made you commander here, Teshen?’ Anatin bristled. He turned to the rest of the company. ‘Hey, the lot of you – I said lower those guns! Do it now!’
Lynx saw their hesitation, but most did as commanded – although a few of the senior officers were reluctant to do so entirely. He saw Payl and Estal drop theirs from shoulder to waist, but they were experienced soldiers standing at a five-yard range.
‘He killed the man fair,’ Teshen said, almost ignoring Anatin entirely. ‘You people don’t get to string him up for that.’
‘Is that what this is about, Teshen?’ Anatin said in a quiet voice. ‘You pick your moments, my friend.’
‘Do you want to join him?’ the woman asked coldly.
‘Hey now, there’s no reason for this to go that way,’ Anatin declared.
‘I think there is, Captain,’ she said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Hang him here or bind his hands and put him in our charge. No So Han piece of filth gets to kill a Knight-Charnel without righteous retribution.’
Anatin scowled. Lynx could see the mercenary thinking furiously, weighing the hand he’d been dealt.
‘Take the bastard’s purse first,’ piped up a voice from further back in the company, ‘since he’s been murdered an’ all, theft on top o’ that ain’t worth much at all.’
‘Ulfer’s crumpled horn, Deern,’ Anatin sighed. ‘You reckon now’s the time for your joking?’
‘Who’s joking? We got more guns than ’em.’
‘There will be no plundering of the dead,’ the paladin said gravely. ‘The crime is limited to one man at present, but the blame will encompass the rest of you should you steal from his corpse.’
‘Aye, and there’s my problem,’ Anatin mused. ‘How far the blame spreads.’
‘You wish my oath? On my honour as a paladin of the Knights-Charnel of the Long Dusk, I give it.’
‘You ain’t getting him,’ Teshen repeated. ‘Walk away now, best we’ll offer.’
‘Teshen, step back. Please.’
‘Sorry, not happening. He’s one of ours now, new or not. We’ve all seen the value of their oaths,’ he spat with a sudden vehemence.
Anatin sighed in exasperation. Lynx saw him glance up at the road and was already moving away when Anatin almost idly shot the paladin through the chest. Four more shots rang out in the next moment, three white threads darting out while a darker one ripped a wide furrow through the air.
The remaining knights were smashed backwards by the thundercrack detonations, two thrown clear of their saddles. The other two fell tangled in their stirrups but were dead just as quickly. The young man Lynx had f
irst threatened was hurled ten yards through the air, body folded around a giant’s punch to crash broken and mangled in the dirt behind.
In the stunned silence, Anatin glared round at his troops. ‘Which arsehole loaded an earth-bolt there?’
‘Apologies, my prince,’ said the easterner, Safir, in a level voice. ‘My mistake.’
‘You almost took my bastard head off!’
Safir offered a florid bow, but Lynx saw the ghost of a smile on his face as he did so. ‘I loaded in haste. To make amends I shall mention you in my prayers tonight.’
Anatin glared at the man and shook his head. ‘I’ve heard you pray,’ he growled. ‘I don’t want to get caught up in that list of accusations, just in case the gods are ever actually listening.’
‘As you wish, my prince.’
Anatin gave up, muttering, ‘Bloody mercenaries,’ before he went to inspect the dead. ‘Looks like we’ve got plunder, Deern.’
The smaller man gave a cheer and barged his way forward, but Anatin’s boot caught his shoulder before he could reach the bodies. ‘Shame you didn’t shoot any of ’em though,’ the commander added nastily, ‘so get your slack-ringed arse back in ranks. Spoils go to those who did the fighting, same as always.’
Anatin stood in his stirrups and looked up and down the road before continuing. ‘Be quick about it too. Shift the bodies and set the quality horses loose, take nothing identifiable. Cartridges and that standard-issue gun are fine but you leave those pretty mage-pistols alone – no, chuck ’em away as far as you can. Don’t need to advertise what we have done here.’
The commander paused and sought out Lynx. ‘You. I really ain’t happy with you, hear me?’
Lynx nodded but Anatin clearly wasn’t done.
‘I don’t think you do truly get how wrath-o-Veraimin fucking angry I am right now, ’cos I don’t have the words yet. For starters, though, the main reason I don’t shoot you here an’ now is ’cos we don’t need to leave behind a body that could get connected to us. As it is, I’ll be having to drop comments at the next town about a troop o’ Sons of the Wind our scouts spotted, see if we can draw some attention away from us.’
At last he remembered the young mage and turned in her direction. ‘You, sparrow – you got a name?’
The woman bobbed her head. ‘Sitain, sir.’
‘You really a mage?’
She quailed at that, shoulders hunched as though she feared the answer as much as the killers asking it. ‘I, I think so, sir.’
Anatin snorted. ‘You think?’
‘I’ve no training, no idea what I’m doing most of the time.’
‘What sort o’ mage do you think you are then?’
Another hesitation. ‘Night, sir.’
‘Night?’ Anatin whistled in surprise, his anger clearly fading. ‘Not many of you about, eh? Still, that could make you useful. Ever considered the employment opportunities afforded by joining a mercenary company?’
The look on her face was a picture. Sitain straightened up in her seat and looked Anatin in the eye for the first time. ‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Fair enough,’ he cackled, ‘just look at the arseholes I have to work with! Even one o’ my best either can’t tell the difference between an icer and an earther or he chooses the weirdest time to mess with me.’ The next instant his mirth was gone like a voice on the wind. ‘Consider it now, for a few weeks at least. I’m guessing you can’t go back home, that’s where this lot found you, no?’
‘It is.’ She glanced down at the bodies on the ground around her, lips pursed against the blood and the pained, surprised stares of the dead. ‘I’m seeing the career in a whole new light.’
‘Glad to hear it. Lynx, she’s now your responsibility. Do a better job for her than you have up to now.’
With that Anatin yanked his horse back around and headed back to the column, calling over his shoulder, ‘Two minutes to search and hide ’em. After that we move out.’
Before Lynx could investigate the purse of the man he’d killed, he found Teshen’s hand on his shoulder.
‘I’ll do that for you,’ the man said in a pointed tone. ‘Reckon he’s the richest of the lot and I stuck my neck out for you, got to be worth a commission.’
Lynx tensed, old instincts rising to the fore and demanding he stick a knife in Teshen’s guts. I wouldn’t have him pegged for some thieving bully, out to prove his dominance. He paused. So maybe he isn’t, maybe he’s just got a point and this is the price of stepping out of line.
‘Maybe so,’ he admitted. ‘Reckon I can guess what his purse’ll look like. Reckon I’ll have no complaints if half of that comes my way plus a share of cartridges.’ He glanced at Teshen’s hand and the man, with a half-nod, took the point and removed it from Lynx’s shoulder. ‘I’ll get the horses going.’
He pulled a dagger and went to cut the knotted cord binding Sitain’s hands to her saddle. She gasped as they were freed, wincing and rubbing at her wrists until Lynx offered her a hand to dismount.
‘I can manage.’
Lynx shrugged. ‘Go on then.’
Sitain fumbled at the horn of the saddle with fingers that refused to grip and she had to resort to slumping forward and hooking her wrist around the front. She gingerly eased one foot up until she could slide her body off without falling, but as her feet touched the ground her knees buckled underneath her. Lynx grabbed her waist just before she fell, ignoring the angry hiss he received.
‘Enough now,’ he said firmly, ‘you did well just getting off by yourself. You made your point.’
As gently as he could he eased her down to the ground and then stepped back. Lynx looked her up and down as Sitain pulled the scarf from her head to reveal a mass of brown curls that certainly didn’t come from So Han. Most likely she was some local farmer’s daughter; she was dressed in hard-wearing homespun, while her hands and face were well tanned.
‘I’m Lynx,’ he said eventually.
‘Lynx?’
‘Long story.’ He paused. ‘Well, short story actually. Not very interesting either, but Lynx is who I am.’
She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Deserter?’
Lynx shook his head. ‘All years in the past anyhow, so let’s move on. You’re Sitain. Got a family name?’
‘Yes.’
He gave her a moment to expand on that but Sitain just pursed her lips and looked at the ground. ‘Want me to move on?’
‘Maybe it’s best I get a new name too,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Not like I can go home now. Someone in the village told the Charnelers about me and my family didn’t put up much of an argument.’
‘Your ma from So Han, da’s a local?’
She nodded. ‘How’d you know?’
‘Was the best guess. More likely it’d be a woman who’d want to move far away from that place.’
She nodded and scowled down at her hands. ‘What now?’
He cocked his head at her, trying to work out the look on her face, which seemed to combine more emotions than Lynx could manage over the course of a whole day. ‘Now? First of all I get these horses heading off down the road.’ He reached up and pulled the saddlebag off the one she’d been riding. ‘Anything in this yours?’
‘No, it’s just food and pans.’
‘Right. I’ll fetch the rest, you clear out anything useful or edible and toss the rest like you were robbing ’em. We’ll put valuables we can’t safely keep in a bag and toss it somewhere.’ He glanced back at Teshen, who was already engaged in a brisk, practised search of the commander’s body. ‘Can you walk?’
Sitain frowned down at her feet. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ll get you in the caravan, then. Your horse’ll get tied up with the rest, but let’s put you out of sight just in case, eh? Don’t go through anyone’s stuff when you’re there or they’ll cut your throat, understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. We can talk later, work out where you want to go once you’re free of the Charnelers.’
<
br /> ‘Just like that?’
‘Aye, just like that. Unless you got any other plans?’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s just you’re, well …’
‘A mercenary?’
Another shake.
Lynx felt a slight chill like a cloud covering the sun. ‘Ah, a man from So Han. That I am, but you heard the good commander. That shit’s been outlawed a long while now and I ain’t a fan of bringing up the past.’
He turned away, suddenly keen to be away from people for a minute or two. ‘Rest now. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.’
Chapter 7
Long-tailed swallows knifed through the evening air, slashes of white against the deep blue sky. The dull arc of the Skyriver loomed across a sky unencumbered by cloud, a pale grey sweep as the last golden light of evening filtered through the trees surrounding the mercenary camp.
Sitain deposited her armful of wood and paused to watch the bustle of figures around her. They were efficient, she had to give the mercenaries that. Under a veneer of squabbling, outright abuse and chaotic milling, the camp was taking shape with surprising speed. Tents popped up, fires lit with pots of food hung over them and watches had been set all within minutes of Commander Anatin calling a halt.
She stretched her back, glad to be out of the wagon and on her own two feet again. Inaction didn’t suit her, she was used to working and had been first to set out in search of firewood – anything to be moving, anything for purpose after a long day alone with her thoughts.
A black woman with red-tinted eyes walked over to her, tugging her hair loose while she inspected Sitain. Even in battered mercenary garb she was beautiful, lithe and light in her movements in a way Sitain didn’t expect from a woman more than ten years her senior. In her village, a few years of marriage left most women solid and careworn, fatigue sapping what sparkle they had in their eyes.