A Demon in Silver

by R. S. Ford

  ‘The other two escaped?’ Randal asked, still staring at Josten.

  ‘They did, but they won’t be far away,’ Canio replied.

  ‘Very well.’ Randal signalled to one of his men who threw a purse at Canio. The mercenary caught it, and it looked heavy. Canio wasn’t giving him up for a pittance.

  ‘Goodbye, Cade,’ Canio said as they untied Josten from the post. He almost sounded regretful.

  ‘Be seeing you,’ Josten replied, knowing it was a lie.

  The tallymen dragged him outside and bound his hands again before they led him through the camp in silence. Canio’s men watched with hatred as they passed by. It had taken half a dozen of them to bring him down; two of those men were wounded badly. He imagined they wanted to be the ones to get a little payback, but the tallymen had handed over their coin so he guessed it was their honour by right.

  Randal led the way through the miserable little town. No one seemed to give a shit what their business was and Josten doubted any of them would have the guts to ask. He wouldn’t get help here.

  At the southern end of the town was the hill Josten had first looked down from. The oak sat waiting for him at the top, and he suddenly started to feel sick. He’d been in fixes before, faced execution and certain death, but he couldn’t see a way out of this one.

  They dragged him up to the tree and one of the tallymen threw a rope over a thick overhanging branch.

  Randal turned to face him as the tallymen tightened the rope about Josten’s neck.

  ‘I see you’ve taken on some more recruits since we last met,’ said Josten. He’d never been one to pass up an opportunity to take the piss. Begging would do no good. ‘Though let’s face it – the last bunch you brought were about as much use as a broken cock in a brothel.’

  Randal regarded him without emotion. Clearly he didn’t see the funny side, but then it was obvious he was a man who took himself very seriously.

  ‘Yes, I brought more men,’ said Randal. ‘That one is called Deren,’ he gestured to the man holding the other end of the rope. His arms were as thick as the oak’s branches. ‘You killed his brother a few days ago.’

  Before Josten could say anything, Deren and one of the others pulled hard on the rope. Josten was in the air, that rope tightening around his neck, squeezing his throat shut. He tried as hard as he could to grit his teeth – there was nothing more stupid-looking than a hanged man with his tongue lolling out – but it appeared there wasn’t anything you could do about that when there was nothing under your feet.

  His neck stretched. His eyes bulged. His tongued poked out of his stupid bloody head.

  It seemed to go on for an age. Josten felt the world go hazy at the edges. Then he was on the ground, his throat open just enough to let a little air in, which he wheezed greedily into his lungs.

  Randal was kneeling down next to him now, still looking on impassively.

  ‘Where has your friend taken her?’ he asked.

  Josten looked up at him, trying to fill his lungs enough to speak. ‘How the fuck do I—’

  The rope was yanked again. Josten was off the ground before he could think to draw a breath in. This time he kicked his legs, doing the dance he’d seen a dozen times before. He danced that jig for as long as he could until the rope loosened again and he hit the ground before blackness completely enveloped him. It hurt to inhale, but somehow he managed to fill his lungs.

  ‘Where has your friend taken her?’ repeated Randal.

  Josten stared at him, trying to breathe.

  ‘If… he has any sense… they’ll be miles away by now.’

  Randal scanned the horizon, then looked back at Josten. ‘I don’t think so. Your friend won’t be far away.’

  ‘Then… you don’t know my friend… very well at all.’

  Josten felt the noose tighten at his words but Randal held up a hand.

  ‘No. We might need him.’

  ‘But he killed my brother,’ said Deren.

  Josten might have apologised for that if he’d thought it would do any good. He didn’t bother wasting what breath he had.

  ‘And there’ll be plenty of time for your justice, my friend.’ Randal rose to his feet. ‘Take him back to the town and make sure he’s well guarded.’ He glanced into the distance once more. ‘I reckon we’ll have company sooner or later.’

  As they dragged him back down the hill towards the town, Josten could only hope Mullen wasn’t stupid enough to try and save him.

  28

  THEY watched from the copse as the tallymen strung Josten up by the neck. Livia could feel Mullen growing more agitated as his friend dangled from the oak.

  He took his axe from his belt and began to move towards the edge of the small wood. Livia grabbed his arm before he could break the tree line.

  ‘No! That’s what they want, don’t you see?’

  Mullen didn’t look at her but continued to watch his friend being tortured. ‘I don’t give a shit. If that’s what they want I’ll fucking well give it them.’

  ‘They’re hanging him from that tree to draw us out. It’s the highest point for miles. They want us to see.’

  Mullen stopped and stared, his teeth grinding. Livia could see how white his knuckles were. ‘Am I supposed to stand here and watch him die?’ he growled.

  Livia still gripped his arm, watching as the rope loosened and Josten fell to the ground. ‘You know this is the only way, Mullen. Unless you give me up to them.’

  Mullen nodded and looked at her. Clearly he was considering it. Of saving his friend by sacrificing her to the tallymen. Instead he shook his head. ‘You’re one of us now. We don’t abandon our own,’ he said, before moving back further among the trees.

  Livia watched as they hung Josten up once more and let him fall. From this distance she could recognise Randal. He had brought more men with him this time – eight of them in all – as rough and ruthless as the last bunch. Gothelm was determined to have his prize.

  ‘I’ll go to them,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Mullen replied.

  She turned to face him. Her mind made up. ‘I’ll go to Randal tonight and offer myself to Duke Gothelm if he sets Josten free. It’s the only way. There are too many of them to take on, even if we set up an ambush.’

  Mullen smiled. Then he laughed. ‘You’re sweet,’ he said. ‘And brave, I’ll give you that. But as soon as those bastards have you, Josten is dead. Fuckers like that keep no bargains. They wouldn’t deal two hundred silver for you, they’re not about to let Josten free.’

  ‘But we can’t fight them. There are too many.’

  Mullen put his axe back in his belt. ‘We’ll see about that, lass.’

  With that he sat and rested his back against a tree trunk. Livia saw that the tallymen had taken Josten down now and were marching him back towards the little town. She felt helpless. Desperate. But Mullen was probably right. Their only option was to fight.

  Night came in quick and cold, and Livia found herself pacing in anticipation. Mullen rose as it grew dark, his face grim and determined as he strode toward the town. He looked quizzically as Livia began to follow him.

  ‘Where the hell are you going?’ he asked.

  She looked up at him, setting her jaw and doing her best to stare him down. ‘Fucking going with you,’ she replied. Livia had to admit the curse word felt good as she said it.

  Mullen furrowed his brow as he looked down at her but it was gone as quick as it came. Livia had made it clear she was in no mood for being ordered around, even by her former kidnapper.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘No need to be rude about it.’

  They made their way down the hill to the small town. She almost tripped over her skirts twice, making her wonder why she thought this was a good idea, but she was determined to help Josten. Livia should have held little loyalty to him, but over the past days she had seen a side to both men she liked. Besides, she knew she was no longer their captive. It might have been a bit of a stretch to s
ay she was their friend, but she liked to think she was somewhere close.

  The pair made their way into the narrow streets, keeping to the shadows as they went.

  ‘What now?’ asked Livia. Neither of them had any idea where the tallymen were holding Josten.

  Just as she asked, one of the town’s night watch strolled into view. In the dark Livia saw a smile creep across Mullen’s face.

  He moved surprisingly quietly for a man so big, and the night watchman had no idea he was being hunted until it was too late. Mullen grabbed him, lifting him bodily and dragging him into the dark. He stared at the man, hand clamped over his mouth.

  ‘The tallymen have a prisoner. Have you seen them?’ The night watchman nodded, eyes staring fearfully. ‘Where are they holding him?’ Mullen slowly removed his hand from the man’s mouth.

  ‘Grain store,’ said the watchman, his voice a high squeak. ‘Two streets over.’ He pointed a trembling finger.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Mullen, hammering the man’s head off the nearest windowsill. It gave a dull thud that made Livia’s stomach tie in a knot.

  As Mullen moved on she whispered a pointless ‘sorry’ as she crept past, hoping the watchman would still have all his wits when he eventually woke up.

  When they reached the grain store, Livia could see there was light coming from beneath the double doors. Mullen crouched in the dark, watching the building.

  ‘They’ll be expecting us,’ she whispered.

  ‘I know,’ said Mullen, still staring at the grain store.

  ‘We need a diversion… or something.’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’ Mullen asked.

  Livia glanced around for something, anything they could use to draw out the tallymen, but she could see nothing.

  Raised voices and a cry of pain echoed within the building.

  ‘Fuck this,’ said Mullen, standing up and striding towards the door.

  Livia wanted to shout for him to wait. Wanted to grab him and make him stop, but there was no point. Mullen wasn’t going to stop for anyone now.

  He planted a foot against the door and it gave with a crack. Light streamed out onto the street from within the grain store and Mullen charged inside.

  Livia crept forward as the sounds of violence ensued. Weapons clashed and someone shouted out in pain. She heard Mullen growling. Heard another thud. Through the open door she could see black-clad tallymen rushing to join the fray.

  She should have run, taken the opportunity to flee this place, but something within forced her to stay. She couldn’t just leave Josten and Mullen. They had risked their lives to save her. Yes, for their own venal reasons, but they had rescued her from the tallymen and neither had done her any harm. Not like Randal and his thugs.

  Instead of running, Livia moved closer. More shouts. One of the tallymen fell in the doorway, dead or unconscious.

  ‘Bastards!’ shouted Mullen.

  ‘Have him!’

  A last cry of anguish. Then silence.

  Livia paused outside the door. She could hear several men breathing heavily, no one speaking. She wanted to move closer, to peer inside and see what had happened. Before she could decide what to do, someone appeared silhouetted in the doorway.

  She tried to run, to flee into the night, but the figure grabbed her arm and dragged her inside. Livia looked up desperately at a face she recognised.

  ‘Hello, Livia,’ said Randal. There was a gash on his cheek and his brow was moist from his recent efforts.

  Livia glanced around the room. Josten was tied to a support beam, his face beaten and bloody. Mullen lay on the ground, blood running from his head. He obviously hadn’t gone down easy as two tallymen were on the ground too, one in the doorway, another next to Mullen. Neither of them moved. Another tallyman lay on his back nearby, grasping at a slash in his thigh, gritting his teeth against the pain.

  ‘Someone tie him up,’ Randal said, motioning to Mullen as he pulled Livia into the centre of the room.

  Josten looked up at her, clearly in pain. He said nothing.

  ‘You have me now,’ Livia said desperately. ‘You can let them go.’

  Randal looked at Josten and Mullen, who was being tied to another post. ‘Why would I do that?’ he replied.

  ‘Randal,’ she pleaded. ‘There’s no need for any more of this. There’s been enough killing. Just take me to Gothelm. Let them go.’

  He looked at her with a pained expression. ‘These men are criminals. They have to be punished as such.’

  Mullen was coming round now, his eyes groggy, and he shook some sense back into his head.

  ‘Which one first?’ asked one of the tallymen, a broad and brutal-looking man.

  ‘What do I care?’ said Randal.

  The tallyman smiled, fished a coin from the purse at his belt and flipped it. Livia could only look on with dismay as the rest of the tallymen eagerly awaited the outcome. The broad one caught the coin and slapped it onto the back of his hand. With a sly glance he checked which side it had landed on, then grinned wider.

  ‘The fat one,’ said the tallyman, moving towards Mullen. None of the other men argued as he drew a knife from his belt.

  ‘Wait,’ Livia shouted. ‘The duke might want them for questioning. You can’t just—’

  ‘Livia.’ She turned to see Mullen looking at her. He was smiling, despite the grogginess. ‘Let it go, girl. They’ve made up their minds.’

  She could only watch as the tallyman with the knife approached Mullen. Tied to the opposite post, Josten squirmed helplessly against his bonds. As the tallyman plunged his knife into Mullen’s gut, Josten shouted a cry of rage that hurt Livia’s ears.

  She watched in a daze as the tallyman drew his knife across Mullen’s belly. Mullen spat blood between gritted teeth, trying his hardest not to give the tallymen the satisfaction of seeing him scream.

  Josten bellowed on till it numbed Livia’s ears. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from the sight as the tallyman plunged a hand in, pulling out a sausage-string fistful of guts.

  Mullen could resist no more, crying out in pain as the tallyman stepped back, laughing as he did so.

  Livia felt rage burn inside her. Felt the cruelty of these men wash over her, purging her of fear. Even as the tallyman plunged his knife back in, this time into Mullen’s chest, Livia felt no fear. Only the need to bathe every one of them in a cleansing fire…

  Wings teased at the corner of her vision. A spear of vengeance, hot in her hand. The taste of righteousness burning red on her lips.

  The tallyman pulled his knife free, turning to Josten, who was still raging, spitting the blood from his lips at the death of his friend.

  ‘Don’t worry, mate,’ said the tallyman. ‘Your turn now.’

  ‘No,’ said one of the others. ‘He’s mine.’

  That one drew out a length of rope and moved forward. Livia strained against Randal’s grip but he held her firm as the second tallyman moved behind Josten and secured the rope tight about his neck. She watched helplessly as he pulled on the rope, throttling Josten against the post.

  No. Not helplessly.

  The heat of a thousand suns filled her with might. The holy purity of a god’s wrath gave her succour. The white flames of fury filled her soul…

  Randal was screaming. Livia held his wrist now, crushing it in an iron grip. His scream of pain was like a pig at slaughter, only serving to stoke her fury.

  She flung him across the room and he smashed into the wall, wood cracking and dust flying. Another of the tallymen raced towards her but she moved faster than she could think, planting her hand into his chest and knocking him back a dozen feet through the air.

  Two of the tallymen panicked, fleeing from the grain store through the open door. The others stood back, fear marring their once-cruel faces.

  Livia looked towards Josten where his would-be executioner had also backed away, his rope forgotten.

  ‘Cut him free,’ she ordered, hearing a voice that wasn’t her own
.

  Immediately the tallyman obeyed, and Josten stumbled forward.

  Livia looked at Mullen’s body, still lashed to the post. She wanted to cut him down too but before she could order it, Josten grabbed her arm.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

  She stared for one last moment at the big man hanging there, his guts dangling to the floor, before she let Josten drag her from the building and out into the cold night.

  29

  AT least now Josten knew why Gothelm wanted the girl so badly. But that was for worrying about later. He dragged Livia through the town, staggering on his weak knees. Those tallymen had given him a beating all right – beaten him like they were tenderising a slab of meat.

  And they’d killed Mullen. Strung him up and gutted him like they were butchers at market.

  He wanted to stay and make them pay, but Josten knew that would mean he’d end up like Mullen. As furious as he was, as much as he needed his reckoning, he still had enough wits to know when to make an escape and when to hang around for a fight.

  He glanced at Livia as he ran, dragging her along behind him. She looked pale, in a daze, like she’d just been drugged. Far from the raging creature she’d been back in that grain store, throwing men around like rag dolls.

  But later. Think about all that later. Now we just have to get the fuck out of here.

  Josten limped to the western extent of the town. Somewhere a bell started ringing, chiming into the night and filling him with more dread. He didn’t pause, striking out towards the wood that lay just outside the town.

  Livia kept pace with him as he fled, staggering behind like she was half asleep, and he felt relief wash over him as soon as they reached the trees. He stopped for a minute, pausing to look behind and watch for any sign of pursuit.

  No one came after them, though the bell ringing carried on, and was soon joined by voices raised in alarm.

  In the scant moonlight Josten looked at Livia, trying to see if she recognised him. He waved his hand in front of her face but she stood like she was in a trance, eyes staring without focus.

  Josten clicked his fingers. ‘Can you hear me,’ he asked.