Then she started to scream.
12
Enala jerked back from the bed as the woman’s scream echoed through the room. Her foot slammed into a discarded footstool, and, before she could stop herself, she was tumbling backwards.
In the bed, Amanda screamed again and sat up. Scrambling on the ground, Enala leapt back up, the rapier leaping into her hand. Beside the woman, the merchant threw off his covers and looked around. He flinched back as his eyes took in the naked steel. Eyes wide, his hairy chest bare, he stared at Enala in disbelief.
“What’s going on here?” he shouted.
Thinking fast, Enala leapt forward and pointed her rapier at his chest. She had obviously scared Tom’s wife half out of her mind, but it wasn’t too late to get her out. Tom’s distraction would be coming any second. She would need to act fast if they were both going to get out alive.
“I’m here to take Amanda back to her husband,” she growled, teeth bared.
The merchant stared up at her blankly. “I am her husband,” he replied dumbly.
As if to emphasis the man’s words, the woman shrank into him. Lifting an arm, he wrapped it protectively around her. They stared up at her, half naked and terrified. Enala stared back, mouth opening and closing, and wondered how everything had gone so terribly wrong.
Taking advantage of her indecision, the merchant sat up and shouted. “Guards! Guards! Help in here!”
Running feet came from outside, followed by a crash as a man burst into the room. His sword was already out and swinging for Enala as she spun to meet him. Steel range as her smaller blade took the impact, forcing her back a step. The footstool threatened to trip her again, but she leapt to the side, kicking it at the guard as he advanced.
The stool smashed into his knees, sending him crashing to the ground. Enala scrambled for the doorway, but another guard had already appeared. This man she recognised as the guard who’d been stationed on the gate. Cursing, she retreated into the room, fixing the position of the side door in her mind. The man she’d downed was already back on his feet and blocking her way, but if she could just slip past him…
Roaring, the two men leapt at her, short swords flashing. Enala leapt out of their path, gasping as a blade licked her rib cage. Pain shot down her side, but she didn’t slow. Blood pounding in her ears, she lashed out. The tip of her blade caught one of the men on the cheek. He cursed and lurched back, giving Enala an opening. She leapt, only to catch a boot in her side that sent her crashing into the sofa.
Wood cracked as the internal supports gave way. Groaning, she flipped over the back of the sofa, using it for cover. Grasping the rapier tight in one hand, she scrambled across the room. She grabbed at the leg of the coffee table as the men leapt over the broken the couch, and hurled it at them. The wooden table hardly weighed anything, and they batted it away with their arms, but it gave Enala a chance to regain her feet.
Swaying, she stretched out her rapier and flashed her darkest scowl.
“Bring it on,” she muttered under her breath.
The two guards edged forward, faces dark, swords held at the ready. These men were no amateurs. They moved with the easy grace of warriors, confident in their abilities. They knew that with their size and skill, they would quickly overwhelm the intruder.
Gritting her teeth, Enala was gathering herself to meet the men, when a sharp boom shook the room. A sudden wind blasted across the villa, knocking the guards and Enala from their feet. Somewhere a voice screamed, shrill and piercing. Then there was silence.
Eyes closed, Enala stifled a groan. The blast had thrown her backwards into the wall, slamming her head into the clay bricks. Reaching up, she felt the sticky dampness of blood in her hair. She’d lost her rapier in the explosion, and, gathering her strength, she forced herself to open her eyes and look for it. The sword was her only chance of making it out of the house alive.
Her gaze settled on where the two guards lay nearby. Blood dripped from the back of their heads where something large had struck them. Neither of them moved as Enala sat up, and she realised, with a chill, they were both dead.
Beyond, the room was a mess of broken wood and brick and glass. Every window in the house had blown out. The supports around the poster bed had collapsed, blanketing its occupants in the curtains. The shouts and writhing figures beneath the curtains told Enala the couple were at least still alive.
She looked around as movement came from the doorway, and stared open mouthed as Tom wandered inside. He was panting hard, his chest heaving as he sucked in great gulps of air. Leaning against the doorframe, he looked around and nodded, as though congratulating himself. His eyes swept over Enala unseeing, settling on the couple who had just disentangled themselves from the curtains.
“Ah, Robin, so nice to see you again, old chap,” he said with a smile.
“Tom?” the half-naked man in the bed gasped. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you if I ever saw you again–”
“You’d have me arrested and thrown in the darkest cell you could find,” Tom waved a hand, dismissing the man’s words. “I believe that was right before you stole my half of our business.”
“You were trading slaves with the Baronians!” the man gasped. “You left me no choice.”
“There is always a choice,” Tom growled, straightening. His eyes seemed to glow as he moved into the room. “Did you really think you could betray a Magicker and get away with it?”
In the bed, the man snorted, though Enala saw through his bluff. He was terrified. “You were always a second-rate Magicker.”
Tom raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you wish to antagonise me, Robin? You’re not exactly in a position of strength.” He waved at the dead guards, and for the first time seemed to realise Enala was alive. “You’re still here, girl? I’m impressed. I thought they would have killed you by now.”
“You…” Enala shook her head, struggling to martial her thoughts. Her head was pounding, and reaching down, she realised the cut in her side was bleeding worse than she’d thought. Even so, she struggled to her feet. “You used me? Why?”
Tom smiled. “Someone had to make sure all the guards were in one place,” he waved at the bodies. “I’m not sure I could do that again.”
A tremor went through Enala as she looked at the couple in the bed. “He didn’t steal your wife?” she murmured.
“Not the quickest, are you?” Tom laughed. Shaking his head, he reached into his belt and withdrew a gold coin. “Look, I appreciate your help, but you’re no longer needed here. Take this and go. Forget you were ever here.”
He flicked the coin across the room. Enala reached up and caught it without thinking. It felt heavy in her hand – real gold. She shivered, looking from the coin to the Magicker.
“What…what are you going to do to them?” she asked.
Tom’s face darkened. “I said leave, girl. What happens next is none of your business.”
Enala swallowed, and lifted her sword. “It is if I say it is,” she growled.
Tom sighed and snapped his fingers. Enala gasped as the rapier jerked from her hand and flew across the room. Tom reached out and caught it by the hilt, then pointed it across the room at her. “This is your last chance, girl.”
Enala didn’t bother to reply. Silently, she drew her dagger.
13
“Big mistake,” Tom said.
He started across the room, rapier extended. Watching him move, Enala was reassured his show earlier hadn’t entirely been an act. His feet were too close together, and his grip on the rapier was all wrong. A slight sheen of sweat had sprung up on his brow after summoning the sword. His magic obviously took more from him than he liked to admit. Still, he had a sword, she only her poorly worked dagger.
Enala ducked as the rapier flashed for her face, spinning away as quickly as she could. Holding the dagger close to her side, she studied Tom as he thrust again. She swore and leapt back, the blow narrowly missing her stomach. He was quick, she had
to give him that, and with his sword’s longer reach, it was all but impossible for her to reach him.
Unless she could find a way to turn the tables, he was going to kill her.
Dancing backwards across the room, Enala circled the dead guards, trying to get close enough to grab one of their swords. Tom saw her intent and quickly placed his body squarely between her and the fallen men.
His next blow opened a long cut in her arm. Pain sliced through Enala’s concentration. She staggered, and Tom lurched at her again. Only a desperate dive kept Enala from being skewered by his rapier. The carpet cushioned her blow, and she rolled, coming to her feet near the bed. She risked a glance at the couple. The two sat transfixed, the curtains and sheets pulled up around them.
Useless, she cursed them.
But then, Enala had gotten them into this mess. It was up to her to get them all out of it alive.
She darted at Tom again, and almost took a rapier to the eye for the effort. Pain sliced down her forehead as he reversed the cut, then kicked out with a boot. The blow caught Enala square in the chest and sent her hurtling back. As she landed, the dagger flew from her fingers and bounced across the room. Before she could recover, Tom leapt forward and scooped it up.
Pointing his rapier, Tom slowly shook his head. “Such a waste. A few more years of training, and you might have been a force to be reckoned with.” Grinning, he lunged forward, rapier tipped to run Enala through.
As he moved, a soft twang came from the doorway. Tom lurched back as an arrow sprouted from his shoulder. The dagger thudded to the ground as he stood gaping at the shaft. He blinked, turning his eyes to the doorway. He still held the rapier, his fist gripped so tightly around the hilt that his knuckles had turned white.
Rolling sideways, Enala came to her feet. Movement came from the doorway, and she stared as a scarlet- haired woman moved into the room, longbow pointed, another arrow already nocked. The woman’s eyes never left Tom as she picked her way through the broken wood and glass. A short sword hung from her belt, though, with the bow pointed squarely at Tom’s chest, she obviously didn’t need it.
Enala started as she realised it was the woman from the inn, the one she had dismissed as too young to have anything to do with the bounty hunters’ guild.
“On the floor,” the woman said, her voice so soft it was barely audible.
“You think I’m afraid of–” Tom’s reply turned into a shriek as a second arrow sliced through his other shoulder. The rapier tumbled uselessly to the ground.
“On the floor, Timothy Blake,” the woman repeated.
Enala looked from the woman to Tom, eyes wide, unable to understand what was going on. Her head spun, her stomach clenching as she swayed on her feet. She blinked as her vision swam, struggling to focus on the woman’s face. Something wet and hot trickled down her neck.
“Hey, kid,” Enala blinked and looked back at the woman. She already had another arrow nocked. Her eyes never left the Magicker, but it was clear she was addressing Enala now. “Get out of here, before I decide to take you in for aiding a criminal.”
Looking into the woman’s steely eyes, Enala swallowed. Nodding, she staggered past her and out into the night. The Magicker was just slumping to his knees as she disappeared out the front door.
14
Enala stifled a moan as she stumbled down the alleyway. The night was silent and still, but her senses were on high alert. She jumped at every shadow, her mind unable to tell reality from hallucination. She had left the merchant’s house in such a rush, she hadn’t even paused to take her dagger. Now she was terrifyingly aware of her helplessness. Injured and unarmed, she wouldn’t last the night if she didn’t find shelter.
Her only chance was to get off the streets, but the merchant’s house was a long way from any of her hiding places. With her strength quickly fading and her mind struggling to think, she wasn’t sure she would make it. Clutching at her ribs, she staggered on, desperate to escape the disaster behind her, to find safety.
Shadows swirled, though she wasn’t sure if that was the flickering streetlamps, or her own feeble consciousness. Her head pounded, aching from the blow she’d taken when Tom had ignited his magic. At least she’d survived, though. She bit her lips at the thought of the guards, lying dead in their own blood, but gritting her teeth, she continued on.
The night pressed in around her. She scanned the side alleys, searching for movement, for signs of pursuit. An empty gulf opened in her stomach as she stumbled, almost fell. She wasn’t going to make it, didn’t have the strength to reach her hiding place. She glanced at the nearby doorways, but they were firmly closed. She tried a few, hoping against hope for an abandoned building, but all were bolted from the inside. Without any other options, she continued her desperate march.
When daybreak finally came, the rising sun found her collapsed in a pile of garbage somewhere amidst Chole’s maze. Enala groaned as the glow pierced her eyelids, drawing her back to consciousness. The pounding in her head tore away the last of her sleep, and set her stomach swirling. She struggled to remember where she was, what she’d done, but the night was a blur.
Struggling up, she looked around. Her vision blurred in and out of focus. A wave of nausea swept through her and, bending in two, she hurled the contents of her stomach into the garbage. The stench of vomit joined the stench of rotting food and old urine.
When she was finally done, Enala lay back against the wall, head still pounding, stomach swirling. Heat radiated from her side, and reaching down, she felt crusted blood on her clothes. Lifting her shirt, she saw the red slash of a sword wound across her ribs. The flesh around the cut was bright red, radiating heat.
Infection.
Enala struggled to her feet. She clenched her teeth, desperate to keep from vomiting again. She didn’t recognise the alleyway she’d collapsed in. Nor could she remember why she was there, how she’d gotten her injuries. But Enala knew she needed help – or she might not survive the day.
A memory tugged at her, from long ago, when she’d lived in this city with her parents. There was a temple, and shrine to Antonia, the Goddess of the Earth. They had gone there once, when she was sick. A man had laid his hands on her head, and a strange warmth had filled her. When he’d released her again, the sickness was gone.
If only she could remember where it was. Or where she was, for that matter.
Enala started down the alleyway towards the distant light. Taking turns at random, she stumbled through the maze, searching for someplace she recognised. The sounds of the morning trade grew in volume as she moved. Setting her sights on the direction of the noise, she headed towards it.
It took her half an hour to reach the main streets. Looking around, she swallowed her fear and approached one of the stalls. Surely someone would help her.
“Please, sir,” she croaked, leaning against a butcher’s stall. Raw meat sat out in the morning sun, making her stomach swirl. “Please, where is the Earth temple?”
The dark-haired man behind the stall turned to stare at her, his hard eyes looking her up and down. In her torn and bloody clothes, Enala must have looked quite a sight. He shook his head and pointed down the street. “Get out of here, girl,” he growled, “Antonia’s not interested in your kind.”
Enala started to argue, but quickly retreated when he reached beneath his stall. Moving to the next stall, she tried again, only to receive the same response. Her strength fading, she continued through the marketplace, pleading desperately with those she passed. But the crowd were too busy with their own business to pay her any attention. They quickly moved around her, heads down, eager to avoid the beggar in their midst.
At the end of her strength, Enala felt her legs going out from beneath her. She started to fall, when a firm hand caught her beneath the arm and lifted her back up. Blinking, Enala found a woman standing next to her, concern in her green eyes. Black hair tumbled down around her shoulders, disappearing into a faded red cloak.
“Are you ok
ay?” the woman asked.
Enala’s vision swam. She swayed on her feet, only the woman’s hand keeping her upright. Unable to form a sentence, she shook her head. “Temple,” she managed to croak.
The woman nodded. “Let’s go.”
So saying, she took Enala’s arm over her shoulder. With her supporting Enala’s weight, they started off through the crowd. People stared as the two women passed, but no one offered to help them. The people of Chole were hard. They saw so much death in their drought-stricken streets, few bothered themselves to help their fellow man. How could they, when all their energy was needed just to keep themselves alive?
Even in her dazed state, Enala recognised the woman’s accent as foreign, perhaps from southern Lonia. She sent out a silent thanks to the Goddess for sending her. Then her paranoid mind wondered if she were begin tricked, if the woman was really leading her someplace else, to be robbed or worse. In her current state, though, there was little Enala could do to resist. Silently, she resigned herself to whatever end fate had in store.
When they finally reached the temple, Enala could only stand and stare in awe at the towering marble. Columns as thick as the trees in Dragon Country towered over them, while overhead, three spires stabbed the sky. They stood at the foot of a stone staircase, at the top of which green-robed priests moved quietly about their business. Chanting filled the air, mingling with the faintest scent of rose petals.
“Come on, I know one of the priests. He’s a healer,” her benefactor said. She led Enala up the long staircase.
“Who are you?” Enala croaked, struggling to catch her breath.
“Margaret,” the woman replied “but we can talk later. Let’s get you to Elynbrigge first, hey?”
Enala had no idea who Elynbrigge was, but she nodded into the woman’s shoulder. Her vision flickered, black and red colouring the world around her. She saw a shadow slither through the marble pillars, and flinched into Margaret’s side, until a brilliant green glow washed the darkness away. Her heart slowed, and a tranquil calm settled over her mind. Fixing her eyes on the steps, Enala forced herself on.
Defiant Guardians Anthology Page 31