She wasn’t even upset that Hurst had hit Dondro. He deserved it, she thought. When she went down for supper and found them discussing what to do with him now, and eyeing her sideways, she said fiercely, “Don’t worry about me. You do whatever you want with him, and if it’s painful and long-drawn-out, so much the better.”
“Mia, I’m shocked!” said Tanist, but he grinned at her.
“Excellent!” said Gantor. “So now can we have some fun with him? Hurst?”
Hurst sighed. “It’s very tempting, but I don’t see that we’ll get any more out of him that way, and the screams will upset people.”
“Well, let’s execute him, then. Something nice and slow – even Mia approves of the idea.”
“We’ll have to sooner or later,” said Tanist. “He’s clearly no use to us, we can’t send him back to blab about us, and keeping him locked up is a waste of food and guards, not to mention the risk if he happens to get free.”
“I agree,” said Hurst. “But we should have a trial first.”
“Whatever for?”
“We have to do everything in proper form,” said Hurst quietly. “We’re not savages, after all. But it can wait a while. Let him sweat, and then Dethin can hold it when he gets back.”
“The Warlord? Really?”
“He’s very good at this trial business,” Hurst said with a rueful grin. “Well, he scared me half to death, anyway.”
~~~
Mia was enjoying a quiet stillness with Hurst one afternoon. They were in what she continued to think of as Mallissa’s sitting room, chatting companionably. Hurst was stretched out on a tattered sofa, while Mia was on the window seat. She had some sewing on her knee, but was not making much progress. They had attempted a game of crowns and given it up. It was far more restful to look out of the window at the storm gathering to the west, while Hurst talked about the preparations for their trip through the tunnel.
There was a burst of noise outside the room and the door flew open to reveal an excited Trimon.
“Dethin’s back! And you’ll never guess who he’s brought with him this time!”
He took off again at speed.
“Any ideas?” Hurst said.
“I’m not even going to try to guess. Shall we go and find out?”
They went downstairs without haste to the canteen, where all the important business of the compound went on. The room was almost empty, for most people were off in their rooms or in quiet corners for the stillness, but there was a cluster of people chattering noisily near the doors, some wearing mud-spattered cloaks and travel-stained boots. Mia recognised Dethin to one side, alone and silent, and edged around the group to reach him. His face lit up when he saw her.
“What surprises have you brought us today?” she said, smiling back at him.
“Some faces you’ll recognise, I hope,” he said.
Mia looked more closely at the travellers. There were two men, familiar despite heavy beards, but she couldn’t name them until one saw her and waved cheerily. Jonnor’s Companions!
“Zanikor? Cole?” They were beside her in a moment, and Cole swept her up into his arms and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Where’s Jonnor? Does he know you’re here?”
“Someone’s looking for him,” Zanikor said. “No one knows where he is.”
“What about Torman?” she asked, but they roared with laughter.
“The Warlord said that would be the first thing anyone would say. ‘I got two out of three,’ he said, ‘but they’ll all ask about the third.’ I just hope Jonnor appreciates seeing us again. How is he? He was pretty bad last we saw him.”
“He’s fine physically,” Mia said, “but still upset with Hurst. But he’ll be glad to see you again. It’s hard to be separated from your Companions.”
“Hard for us too,” said Cole. He laughed then, tipping his head towards the rest of the group. “Look at them – touching, isn’t it?”
And Mia noticed the woman wrapped in Walst’s arms and gasped in recognition. “Tenya? Is it really…?”
The woman turned then, beaming through tears and tore herself from Walst’s grasp. “Mia!” she shrieked. “Oh, Mia!”
For an instant Mia was too stunned to move. Then they were crying on each other’s shoulders, like sisters parted for decades. Mia was astonished at the delight that flooded through her. Tella’s Companions had been friends, of course, and they had shared many of the chores, had ridden together, and gossiped while counting the linen, but it was not the same closeness she felt with her own Companions. But there was no denying the pleasure in a familiar face, a friendly face, someone who shared her past and understood her a little.
Walst reclaimed Tenya before long, and Mia dried her tears and moved back to Dethin’s side. He was still standing a little apart from the group, like the outsider at a festival. He smiled at her but said nothing. Impulsively, she reached up and kissed him, with a whispered, “Thank you!” and then, one arm round his waist, rested her head on his chest. Dethin put an arm around her shoulder, holding her tightly. She caught a glimpse of Hurst across the room, and for a moment he looked bereft, but then he smiled at her and edged his way round the group to her side.
“It’s lovely to see Tenya again, of course,” he said in a low voice, “but I don’t quite see how it’s going to work out.”
Dethin loosened his grip on Mia a little, but didn’t let go of her. “I had some thoughts on that,” he said. “If you make Walst Deputy Commander, he’d have the same privileges as a Commander, including his own woman.”
“Deputy? Can I do that?”
“Of course. It’s not uncommon.”
Hurst nodded. “Good. That would work. You know, I didn’t expect this. I thought you were just going to supervise some light harassment at the wall.”
“I did that too, but I thought I’d ask at each Section I passed, just in case. I’m sorry I couldn’t get them all, but the others – they must have gone further afield.”
“But even these three – it must have been expensive,” Hurst said.
Dethin’s lips twitched, and although his expression barely changed, Mia thought she heard amusement in his tone. “Actually, I made a very good trade. Kestimar, the Sixth Section Commander, is going to find the rest of your people for me, and in return he’ll become Warlord.”
Mia pulled away from him in surprise, but Hurst laughed.
“You gave away your job to bring our Companions back?”
“I can’t be Warlord if I go through the tunnels with you, can I? I merely turned that to my advantage.”
“Lucky we’re still here then. You’d look pretty stupid if we left without you, after that.”
“Oh, I took that into account. Kestimar has to wait until I send the Warlord’s tabard and helmet to him. If you’d already left, I would have stayed as Warlord. Although I would have been disappointed. I’d hate to miss the fun.”
Hurst laughed at that, and slapped him on one arm, forgetting he was still wearing his protective leathers under his cloak. “Ouch! Come on, let’s find your gear and get you settled upstairs. Coming, Mia?”
The three of them collected Dethin’s travel roll and saddle bags, and began the climb up the stairs. At the first landing, Dethin turned right but Hurst stopped and said, “No, this way.”
“My room is that way.”
“But ours is up here. Unless you’d rather sleep alone?”
For a moment Dethin hesitated. His back was to the guttering lamp, leaving his face in deep shade, so Mia couldn’t read his expression. “Are you sure?” he said after a long pause. “I – don’t want to impose. I mean – I didn’t expect…”
“We’d like you to,” Mia said, taking his hand. “We’ve talked about it, and we’re both happy with it.”
He abandoned his protest, and meekly followed them up the stairs to Hurst’s room.
“Right,” said Hurst briskly. “I have things to do, so I’ll leave Mia to entertain you.”
“But—”
Dethin began, but Hurst cut him off with a wave of the hand.
“Don’t. I’ve had her to myself for a while, so you have some catching up to do. I don’t expect to see you two again before supper.” He grinned and dashed off.
Dethin stood watching her as she fussed around with his gear, stowing things tidily in corners. Again his face was unreadable when she turned back to him.
“Are you comfortable with this?” she asked, wondering if he felt rushed or pressured. He nodded, and when she moved closer to him and tentatively rested one hand on his chest, he drew her towards him and kissed her with an energy which left no room for doubt, crushing her against his solidly armoured front.
“Can we get rid of the battle gear?” she said, as soon as he released her and she had breath enough to speak. “It’s not exactly comfortable.”
He was happy to comply, hurling bits and pieces of equipment around the room, and then scooping her up before she had done more than wriggle out of her tunic. He kissed her again and then laughed, brushing his hands over her hair.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, and put a finger on her lips before she could reply. “It’s all right, I know you haven’t missed me, you’ve had Hurst to keep you warm, but I’ve really missed you.”
And then he was fumbling with his trousers and scrabbling at hers and pushing into her with desperate urgency. She liked it, she decided, that overwhelming need that must be assuaged at once, a degree of roughness in his movements and the way he pulled her buttocks tightly to him. It was exciting, arousing even, although to her regret it was soon over.
Afterwards, they lay curled up in the centre of the big bed, snuggled under the heavy winter blankets and a thick layer of furs to keep the cold out, for there was no brazier in the room. The wind was howling round outside, and later, as night came early, rain lashed the windows. Somewhere in the compound they heard crashing sounds, as loose pieces of equipment were hurled about in the storm. Neither of them wanted to venture out of the covers to light the lamp, so they lay in darkness. They didn’t talk much, and for a while she wondered if he’d fallen asleep, but then he murmured, “Hurst says you’re going through the tunnels too.”
“Yes. I can read the signs, or at least help to read them.”
“It will be dangerous.”
“Maybe, but I’ll be surrounded by warriors and experienced Skirmishers. I’m not afraid. Well – not much.”
He laughed a little, an affectionate little chuckle, accompanied by a squeeze and a soft kiss on the top of her head.
“Brave Mia,” was all he said. And after that his hands started exploring again, and they stopped talking altogether.
Hurst found them fast asleep hours later.
“Well,” he said, lamp bobbing in his hand as they squinted at the sudden brightness, “I take it you’ve caught up a little then?” And he grinned widely, teeth gleaming in the lamplight. “But you might want to shift your asses, or there’ll be nothing but moundrat tails left to eat.”
~~~
The trial was held the next day, immediately after the noon meal. No one had felt confident enough of the prisoner’s co-operation to offer him clean clothes, so he still wore his own, dusty, torn and streaked with blood. His face had been washed, so the half-healed cuts and violently coloured bruises were clear to see. Someone had brushed his hair for him. There was no sign of a beard, not even the beginnings of stubble, although he had been without the chance to shave for close to two weeks.
The canteen was pressed into service as a court again. Mia wondered what Hurst must be feeling. His face seemed calm, but it must bring back unpleasant memories. She had heard quite a bit about the trial, one way or another, for it had been a matter of some interest to Tanist and he had asked Hurst many questions about the process. So she was prepared for accusations and witnesses and a tedious amount of repetition. But it was not like that at all.
“The accused may rise,” said Dethin, as soon as he had brought the room to silence.
Dondro sat and sneered, of course, so two bulky warriors in full battle gear hauled him to his feet and held him upright.
“I find you guilty,” Dethin said without preamble. “Do you have anything to say?”
“Guilty? What of?”
“Does it matter?”
Dondro gaped at him. “What? What kind of justice is that?”
“The kind we learned from you people. The kind that condemns people to a lifetime of exile for the least transgression. The kind that shows no compassion. The kind that takes no account of circumstances. The kind that offers no hope of any better future. The kind that murders babies before they’ve taken a breath. Do you have any excuse for that?”
“That is for your own good!” he yelled. “You ignorant peasants, you deserve no compassion, but you get it anyway. You are murderers and worse, the shit of society, only fit to be thrown away, to keep you away from good people, but we do not condemn you to death. Oh no! We are kinder than that, so we send you here and you get another chance at life. And look what you do with that chance – you truly become barbarians! Such a joke!” And he began to laugh, a rattling, hollow laugh that verged on hysteria.
The crowds watching were murmuring, but Dethin gazed at him in silence.
“That’s enough,” he said quietly, but there was a cool authority in his voice which quelled prisoner and audience alike. “I find you guilty of the crime of being an obnoxious little prick. Three days from now, you will be taken outside and publicly executed. If in the meantime you provide us with useful information, you will die by my sword, quickly and relatively painlessly. If not, the Commander may do whatever he wishes with you, which will probably be neither quick, nor painless. That’s what we call justice in these parts, Most Revered. Take him away.”
“You will rot in the Ninth Vortex for this!” Dondro shrieked as he was dragged out. “I shall see you dead, you bastard!”
“Unlikely,” Dethin murmured, as the shouts diminished into the distance, and then were drowned by cheers and excited chattering.
“Well, that was entertaining and no mistake,” Tanist said from his seat behind Mia. “You’re right, Hurst, he’s very good at this, but I’m glad he’s not in charge of the legal system everywhere. If we executed every obnoxious little prick, the population would be sadly reduced.”
~~~
Hurst had no wish to execute Dondro himself, quickly or otherwise, but there were many volunteers and he organised a tournament to select the lucky man. If Dondro gave them no useful information during his last days alive, the winner would be allowed to do as he pleased with him for a while, until his Captain decided to end the business. Anyone other than the Captains could enter, and it was surprising how many wanted to try for the chance to torment the prisoner. The winner was the compound’s blacksmith, a big, silent man known to everyone but close to none. He wouldn’t explain his antipathy to the Slaves, or what he planned to do to the prisoner, and just smiled when asked.
Dondro still refused to speak. He was alternately defiant and tearful, Hurst reported, and insisted that he would be looked for and rescue would arrive any day, but no one came down the tunnel to ask about him. Hurst set the time for the execution to just after the noon meal, and stipulated that he must be dead by nightfall, but otherwise set no conditions.
On the appointed day, Dondro was brought out and tied to a stake. He wore only his shirt and trousers, and Mia thought the bitter wind would not be the least of his grief. She watched from her bedroom window, and even from several floors up she could hear the high-pitched keening as he was dragged to his fate. Once the warriors melted into the huge watching crowd and the blacksmith began circling around his prey, she withdrew to the sitting room where at least she could see nothing. Even so, she still heard the screams, long spells of distress followed by ominous silence, then more screams, different, more agonised, desperate, further apart. Eventually, a single high-pitched shriek and then a more prolonged silence, and later, as dusk fell, a huge
cheer.
Mia wept.
44: Return (Hurst)
Three days after Dondro’s execution, the bell rang in the tunnel. Hurst geared up and led the way down the tunnel, but he knew no more warriors were expected at this time of year, so he wasn’t surprised to find two men, very similar in appearance to Dondro, waiting behind the gate, and no sign of men in shackles.
“Good day to you,” said Hurst. “No deliveries for us?”
“No… no, that is not why we are here,” one of the two said. “We are looking for – a colleague who came this way about three weeks ago.”
“A guide,” said the other. “He brought you some people.”
“Right. Yes, we had some new people – seven, I believe.”
“And the guide? He left here?”
“He dropped off his – erm, cargo, and set off up the tunnel,” Hurst said, carefully leaving out the part where Walst and Trimon had dragged him back again.
“So there was nothing unusual about the handover?”
“It all went fine from our point of view,” Hurst said, and couldn’t resist a grin. “Why, have you lost your man? Very careless.”
The two muttered together in low voices, then one said, “So he definitely left here?”
“Well, he’s not here now.” More muttering. “Do you want to come and have a look round, check behind the ale barrels and so forth? I’ll do my best to protect you, but I can’t absolutely guarantee your safety…”
The Plains of Kallanash Page 46