by J. M. Martin
Joseph R. Lallo
“Seeking the Shadow”
Setting: The Book of Deacon
Find out more: bookofdeacon.com
Mark Lawrence
“The Secret”
Setting: The Broken Empire and The Red Queen’s War
Find out more: marklawrence.buzz
Tim Marquitz
“A Taste of Agony”
Setting: Tales of the Prodigy
Find out more: tmarquitz.com
J.M. Martin
Editor (Introduction)
Find out more: ragnarokpub.com
James A. Moore
“What Gods Demand”
Setting: The Blasted Lands Series
Find out more: jamesamoorebooks.com
Peter Orullian
“A Length of Cherrywood”
Setting: The Vault of Heaven
Find out more: orullian.com
Jean Rabe
“Mainon”
Find out more: jeanrabe.com
Cat Rambo
“The Subtler Art”
Setting: Serendib
Find out more: kittywumpus.net
Laura Resnick
“Friendship”
Setting: The Silerian Trilogy
Find out more: lauraresnick.com
Anthony Ryan
“The Lord Collector”
Setting: Raven’s Shadow Trilogy
Find out more: anthonystuff.wordpress.com
Clay Sanger
“The Long Kiss”
Find out more: claysanger.com
Mark Smylie
“Manhunt”
Setting: Sword & Barrow (The Known World)
Find out more: swordandbarrow.com
Kenny Soward
“Jancy’s Justice”
Setting: GnomeSaga
Find out more: kennysoward.com
Shawn Speakman
“The White Rose Thief”
Setting: The Annwn Cycle
Find out more: shawnspeakman.com
Jon Sprunk
“Sun and Steel”
Setting: Book of the Black Earth
Find out more: jonsprunk.com
Anton Strout
“Scream”
Setting: Simon Canderous series
Find out more: antonstrout.com
Michael J. Sullivan
“Professional Integrity”
Setting: Riyria Revelations
Find out more: riyria.blogspot.com
Django Wexler
“The First Kill”
Setting: The Shadow Campaigns
Find out more: djangowexler.com
Orion Zangara
Interior Artist
To see more: orionzangara.com
Blackguards Blacklist
Anthology Companion
To the End
Rob J. Hayes
Having served in a hundred different offices as a keyboard monkey Rob J. Hayes finally decided to follow his life long passion of daydreaming. After writing a small horde's worth of short stories (many of which can be found on his website), he released his debut trilogy "The Ties that Bind" in 2013 as an indie publication and followed it up with the standalone release The Northern Sunrise in 2014.
Having now signed a deal with Ragnarok to bring "The Ties that Bind" to traditional paper publication Rob is furiously working away at a follow-up series set in the same world.
When not writing Rob is usually found either card gaming, computer gaming, board gaming, dice gaming, airsoft gaming, or pretending to be a Viking.
~
The Black Thorn? Oh, I could tell you a tale or two about that fellow and no mistake. Why I was there the time he murdered the Governor of Chade, I witnessed him single-handedly burn Heross to the ground with nothing but an angry glare and, let me assure you, his glares were very very scary. I could tell you tales of any number of his glories, travesties, and tragedies but really, wouldn't you gentlemen, and ladies, rather hear something else? Something new. How about I tell one my own fabulous escapades, hmm? No? Well fortunately for you miserable cretins I'm one drink away from not giving a damn what any of you prefer and…there goes that last drink.
I have just the story to tell as well. It's called… “To the End…”
Now as many of you fine people may be aware I have quite a considerable tolerance for the consumption of intoxicating beverages. Fortunately, along with that dreadful burden comes the never ending desire to test the very limits of that tolerance. I consider it a labor of self-growth. So, a good number of years ago I found myself in Acanthia, home of the most powerful merchants in the world, and the richest thieves in the world, and they are not always the same people. I was sitting in a tavern very much like this one, only considerably cleaner, when I first saw her.
Elize A'bth was her name, though I didn't know that at the time, and she was like the first rays of golden sun on the morning. She was like an oasis in a desert and I, a man dying of thirst, though in truth I was more pickled than parched, and that likely prompted my actions. Never let it be said I am not a man to take responsibility for my actions but sometimes there's no one to blame but the booze. She was working as a waitress at the tavern, I forget its name, and it was clear from the off that she took as much interest in me as I her. I know what you're thinking. 'Hard to blame her when setting eyes on a man as handsome as I.' And you are completely correct in that thinking, and don't feel bad for voicing such an opinion as everybody here would no doubt agree with you.
We hit it off instantly. She approached my table all smiles, hips, and lips and asked if I would like another drink. I, smitten as babe with its first glance of a tit, stood and put a knife to her neck, demanding the tavern owner pass me all of the day's earnings.
Perhaps this was not the most chivalrous of actions, but you have to take into account that, at that time, calling me broke would have counted as a compliment. I had somewhere in the region of half a million bits of debt and less in my pockets than most beggars would consider nothing. I could not pay for my bar tab, and neither could I pay for the pressing need to eat so, instead of paying, I decided to rob the place.
The transaction went fairly smoothly considering the bar owner was larger than your average mountain with scars on his arms that suggested he was no stranger to knives. He simply handed over the bar's earnings with a smile. “I'm all paid up for the month,” he said. “I'd hate to be you when the Guild catches up.”
Now I already know what you're thinking. 'What sort of a fool does he have to be to commit a crime in Acanthia?' As it turns out, I am quite the fool.
“Pah,” I shouted in a tone that left the man under no false impressions that he had just been mocked and ridiculed. “I fear them even less than I fear the notoriety that actions just such as this will bring.” It was fair to say my witticism left the man a little confused.
“You tell them that Ches N'tt,” that was the name by which I was going at the time, “dares, nay, begs them to do their worst.”
Then, after foolishly and drunkenly throwing down the gauntlet, I gave my toothpick-of-a-knife a dramatic flourish and disappeared out of the tavern doorway still dragging poor Elize with me.
I had intended to dump the unfortunate wench right outside the tavern and make good my escape and, to my credit, I did try but every time I waved my knife at her and told her to be on her merry way I found her following me not fifty paces later. I even started taking random turns into unknown alleyways, a dangerous business for anyone in Acanthia not registered with the Guild, and even passed through the fish market, blending into the crowd as a leaf on a tree. Alas, when I reached the hovel I was calling home I found Elize just a few steps behind me.
“You've been an excellent hostage, really just sublime,” I said with a tip of my hat. “Honestly, anyone would think it wasn't your first time. However, our time here is at an end—”
“I want to join you,” she interrupted and I saw it then, the spark in her eye
s. To this day I will never be certain whether it was truly me she loved or the danger and excitement I provided.
I should have sent her away, I've no doubt in that, but…well she was beautiful and her body… I'm sure I don't need to remind any of the men here how a woman's body can bend a man's will and crush his faculties.
I neither wanted a partner in crime nor needed the burden of a person to tie me to Acanthia, but I was drunk, standing in the middle of the street, talking to a woman who quite clearly did not belong in such a decrepit part of town. I hurried her inside my hovel and shut the door behind us, with the honest intent of convincing her to depart my scintillating company. Alas, women have always been drawn to me. Don't roll your eyes, my friend, your wife has been wet all evening just from staring at me. Feel free to ask her, she won't lie.
No sooner were we inside with the door closed than she had me pinned up against the wall with a knife of her very own so close to my neck she was practically shaving me. Now I'm not about to deny I have a particular attraction to strong women, and I believe it was right then that my determination to send her away crumbled along with the rising of a part of my anatomy.
Elize glanced down at the bulge in my trousers and smiled up at me and, at that moment, I loved her almost as much as a good brandy. “I've never met a man not afraid of the Guild before,” she said in a voice like silk.
“That was not my first time robbing a Guild protected establishment,” I lied in a foolish attempt to impress the woman. As any man will tell you, we often do and say many foolish things to see what's under the covers.
“I want half,” Elize said.
“Huh?” I responded as I desperately tried to look down her blouse. I have thought about this many times, and I am certain that this is the moment where it all went wrong. If only I had been thinking with my head I could have stopped it all before it began, but where a beautiful woman is concerned, I rarely think with my head.
“I want half of the take,” she insisted, and I nodded along, “and half of the future takes.”
Again I nodded, my drunken mind barely registering what I had just agreed to and a moment later my mind had no say in the matter anyway. Elize threw me to the floor and leapt on top, tearing at my clothing and mere moments later we were writhing around like ferrets in a sack.
It turns out she had already come up with the notion of robbing those establishments who paid protection money to the Guild but had never been able to act upon it as she realized the need for a partner in such a crime. I soon came to realize that, while Elize was smart and quick, she was not very learned. She honestly believed, having never seen an agent of the Guild, that they were as real as the Drurr, who she had also never seen. I should have known better as, even then, I had seen both apparent non-existences and knew just how dangerous the Guild could be when irked. Unfortunately, I was young, foolish, and in utter awe of the woman whom I had recently kidnapped.
We purchased a crossbow, a small and poorly made instrument, but it worked well enough to fire a bolt and could easily be hidden in the folds of a dress Elize liked; and a sword for myself as we decided it would look a touch more threatening than a knife, which looked more apt to buttering bread than ending a man's life.
Our first target was selected carefully and not just because of the subtle mark outside the door that decreed it was Guild protected. It was a well-known bakery frequented by many of the local merchants or, at the very least, their servants. That meant it was also a rich business. It was exactly what we needed for our very first robbery.
It should have gone smoothly. Our planning had been perfect; we waited until the last hours of business, just before dusk, and made our move on a dark and stormy night. The shop bell above the door jingled as we burst through the doorway hand in hand, laughing as though we had just heard the funniest joke ever told. The shop front was well lit, decorated by row upon row of stale bread and cakes, and smelled more wonderful than any brewery I've ever stepped foot in. The man at the counter was rolling out some dough and had dusty flour covering his hands, arms, and apron. He smiled as he saw us and mentioned some comment about the severity of the weather. I approached mouthing similar pleasantries, and as I reached the far side of the counter I laid my sword down and politely asked the man for every bit he owned. Elize, knowing her part well, produced her little crossbow from the folds of her dress and pointed it squarely at the man's chest with a grin somewhere between ugly and beautiful.
“I think there may have been a mistake,” the man said calmly. “I'm all paid up.”
Of course he was referring to the Guild, and why would he not be? Those who pay for protection believe in that protection and place their trust in the Guild. Fools. Placing your trust in thieves is no way to live your life, trust me. But the Guild of Acanthia has created quite a racket for themselves; folk pay them in order to stave off being robbed, which is in itself robbery only without the effort. The guards look the other way because as long as all crime is sanctioned by the Guild, then no crime is technically illegal and, therefore, the guards need rarely do anything to earn their pay. It is a brilliant system of well-balanced peace and Elize and I had set in motion a plan to disrupt it which, and I will stress that this is an entirely different story, caused ripples that spread into civil unrest for years and, to the best of my knowledge, the Guild has never fully recovered from that unrest. But, as I stated, that is most certainly another story because all Elize and I were attempting to do was rob a bakery.
The baker grumbled, as was his right, but he pursed up his bits and handed them over all the same. It was a good haul, enough to keep us in booze and food for many a day, but we were greedy and foolish, and the greedy always want more, and the foolish never know when to stop.
I believe it was a peal of thunder that covered the sound of the door opening. I'm afraid I was a little drunk and my recollection is hazy at best, but before we knew it there was another man in the room, well-dressed and smart and wearing the emblem of some merchant household. He gasped when he realized what was going on, and that startled us.
Now, my friends, I offer you a piece of advice freely and fervently. Never startle a woman holding a crossbow. Before anybody knew what was happening Elize turned, and the bolt flew. The man, who looked a lot like a servant come to order the next day's loaf of bread, found himself pinned to the wall and very much bleeding out his last.
For a moment everything was quiet and still as we all tried to adjust to what had happened. Well most of us tried to adjust, I'm afraid there's simply no adjusting to the development of finding a crossbow bolt where your heart used to be. It was a miraculous shot if truth be told, and I might have been proud if I hadn't already been horrified. Still, I'm a firm believer than when everything goes to shit, you might as well make it worse.
I grabbed Elize by the arm, she was in shock from having just murdered a man, and turned to face the baker one last time. “When you speak of this, and I know you will,” I said, “tell them Ches and Elize send their regards.” And with that we burst out of the door into the storm and away into the night.
Some people are able to distance themselves from their actions when it comes to hurting or killing folk, but not Elize. The murder changed her, made her tougher, more severe, and less forgiving. On a few occasions after the bakery, I found myself disagreeing with her and earned myself a savage beating for the effort. With my weakness for strong women, it only made me desire her more.
We ran, of course. It's the only sensible thing to do after committing both a murder and two robberies in a city policed by thieves and guards, and we would have both parties coming for us. On the road outside of Truridge we came across an old man and his son driving a cart full of ale. We stopped them, threatened them, stole their two horses and, unfortunately, the son decided to play the hero, and I was forced to wound him. I don't believe he died, it was a shallow wound, painful but not serious. Riding away with our newly procured horses we felt invincible, and it was only the start
of our crime spree.
Our next stop was Eightrees, a shit-hole of a town, lying to the east of Truridge and on the border of the Great Desert. It was a tactical play on our part, or at least on mine. I figured we would make it look as though we were fleeing to the desert in the hopes of crossing the waterless expanse into the Five Kingdoms. Of course, we had no such intentions, but an insistent part of my drunken mind was aware of the fact that the longer we could confuse those who were no doubt chasing us, the longer we would stay alive.
We robbed a fancy liquor store in Eightrees, and the owner gave a similar reaction to the baker, insisting they were paid up and the Guild would not be forgiving. That theft went off without a hitch and, thankfully, Elize's crossbow didn't. We left Eightrees heading north with a considerable number of bits lining our pockets and two new horses better suited to a speedy getaway.
At this point the story probably seems a little romantic. Elize and I were young and in love and making our way in the world by stealing from those who thought they were safe and thumbing the eye of Acanthia's settled authority. We were rich and getting richer. We travelled the roads, slept under the stars, and fucked like horny rabbits.
Each new town or city we reached was a new place to explore, and we spent a few days in each, selecting our target. We robbed the place, changed direction, and rode away until we found another settlement. There were more deaths. Of course, there were deaths. I tried to avoid them wherever possible and, for my own part, I can swear to the Gods, any and all of them you can name, that I murdered no one…at least during that particular spree. Elize was another matter. With each robbery, she became more brazen and with each murder she changed more and more.
At the beginning, when we were getting to know each other, she used to compose poetry. Oh, she couldn't read nor write but she had me scribe them down, and they were beautiful. She loved sunsets more than sunrises, and to watch her dance in the rain was like seeing a child discover joy for the first time.