Ghostwalker (The Chronicles of Zanthora: Book One)

by Ben Cassidy

  Chapter 7

  “Where’s Danforth?”

  Queltin winced as he shifted his head. “I—I don’t know,” he said uncertainly. “He was right beside me, in the tavern—”

  “Then he’s dead,” said Montrose matter-of-factly. He stuck his unlit pipe in his mouth, chewing furiously at the end. “That makes two.” He muttered a curse, his eyes watching the inn through the store window.

  Sir Reginald paced back and forth by the store counter, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “That’s it. I have to leave, and leave quickly. I can’t be seen with the likes of you, and I certainly can’t be seen by her.” He stopped, straining to see out the window into the darkness. He could only make out the shape of Uther, who was outside on the porch keeping watch, his crossbow at the ready. “Your whole plan has gone to hell, Montrose. Talin’s ashes! What happened, anyway?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that one out myself. The girl’s still inside, though. I saw her myself.”

  Reginald grimaced as he watched Queltin pull away his dirty rag, revealing the bloody wound on his face.

  Regvar, another of the henchman, leaned in close with a lantern, holding a needle and thread in one hand.

  Queltin took a quick draught from a bottle of whiskey. “Do it quick,” he said.

  Sir Reginald quickly turned his head as Regvar began to sew up the wound. “So what went wrong? Does she have help?”

  “Oh, she has help all right, but it isn’t the Guard.” Montrose continued to stare out the window, deep in thought. “I can’t quite figure it out.”

  “Well you’d better figure it out fast.” Reginald turned, then quickly averted his eyes as they fell again briefly on the gruesome scene in the corner. Queltin had yet to make even the slightest sound as his wound was sewn up.

  Montrose stared silently out the window a few moments more, then looked over at Reginald. “Well, I suppose you’ll be off, now. I’ll help you saddle your horse.” He began to move towards the back of the store.

  Reginald seemed slightly taken aback. “Uh, thanks.” He gave one last quick glance at the operation going on behind him, shuddered, and followed the bounty hunter out the back door.

  Outside the night air was quiet and fresh after the recently fallen rain. Reginald’s horse was still tied up near the rear of the building. Montrose brought it over.

  “There’s a Ghostwalker with her,” he said as he handed the reins to the nobleman.

  Reginald stared at the bounty hunter. “What?”

  “A Ghostwalker.” Montrose repeated.

  Reginald shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

  Montrose fixed the nobleman with a steely glare. “Are you calling me a liar? Or worse, stupid? I know what I saw. The man in there was wearing a hooded black cloak. I went into that place with five men. Two of them are dead. That was no trapper.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Reginald clutched the bridle of his horse, his mind racing. “No sense at all. How could someone have found her this quickly?”

  “Funny. I was just about to ask you that.” Montrose gave Reginald an unnerving stare. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me, Reggie.”

  “No, no, I’ve kept nothing from you. I swear—”

  “Nothing, eh? So you want me to believe that this Ghostwalker just happened to be in the inn when we went in? Waiting for us?”

  Reginald thought furiously. “It has to be a coincidence. If the Ghostwalkers were onto us, they’d have a dozen of their cultists here, not just one. Not to mention the Guard.” He soothed his horse, who was starting to stamp impatiently. “At any rate, he’s only one man, Ghostwalker or not. Surely you can take care of him.”

  “Don’t worry about my end of the deal,” Montrose snapped. “I’ll have the girl when and where we agreed. I’d worry about your end. The price for this little kidnapping of yours just doubled.”

  Reginald’s mouth dropped open. “Doubled? Are you mad?”

  “It’s either that or I walk out of this town right now, along with what’s left of my men.”

  “This wasn’t part of our deal,” hissed Reginald, still holding the horse’s bridle with one hand.

  “The Ghostwalker wasn’t part of the deal, either,” Montrose shot back. “As long as he’s with her, things are a lot harder for me.”

  The nobleman vaulted onto the horse, pulling the animal into place. “Fine,” he said in a cold voice. “Double it is. Just have the girl at the right time and the right place.” He trotted a few steps past the bounty hunter, staring down at the man in the darkness. “And don’t mess up again, Montrose.” With that he kicked his horse sharply, galloping off towards the western gate.

  Montrose watched the nobleman go. He stuck his pipe angrily between his teeth once more, still unlit.

  He didn’t know how this Ghostwalker had gotten involved with the girl, or what he knew of this whole affair. But he would make the man pay for the deaths of Harold and Danforth.

  Now he just needed a plan.

  Kendril filled the pewter mug in his hand to the brim with ale, then shut off the tap and took a long drink.

  “I say, do you really think this is a good time to get inebriated?” Maklavir sat down at one of the tables, eyeing the front door nervously.

  Kendril walked around the side of the bar, the mug in his hand. “We’re outnumbered by a vicious gang of thugs, trapped like rats in this inn, and probably won’t live to see morning. Sounds like the perfect time to get inebriated to me.” He sat down at another table, facing the door and windows that looked out onto the street.

  Jade couldn’t take her eyes off the dark shape on the ground that she knew to be the body of the man Kendril had killed. The Ghostwalker had turned over a table to block the lower half of the front door to the tavern and act as a primitive barricade, so she couldn’t quite see the body of the henchman out on the porch, but she knew it was there all the same. Kendril had positioned another makeshift barricade across the back door.

  “Shouldn’t we close the door?” she asked rather timidly.

  Kendril set the mug down on the table, then calmly dumped both his pistols on the surface before him. He picked up the first one, and quickly and efficiently began to reload it. “No. We’ve lost the element of surprise. We need to see them when they come again.”

  Maklavir glanced at the dark shape of the body on the floor, looking as if he was going to be ill. “You really think they’ll come again? We seemed to have chased them off the first time round.” He paused, his attention caught by something out the door. “There goes one now, if I don’t miss my guess.”

  Kendril looked up sharply just in time to see a horseman go flying by, galloping towards the western gate. He scowled, replacing the ramrod and setting the loaded pistol down. “Just one. I imagine he’s going for reinforcements.”

  Maklavir sighed. “Lovely. This is a fine mess we’re in.”

  The Ghostwalker said nothing, but took a quick drink from the mug, then picked up the second pistol.

  Jade saw his confused look at the half-loaded weapon. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling her face grow warm. “I—You were right about the reloading. I panicked….”

  Kendril gave the pistol a few whacks against the side of the table, knocking the small amount of gunpowder and lead ball out. “It’s all right.” He blew sideways into the barrel.

  “No, it’s not all right,” said Jade, sliding down into a chair by the bar. “You were depending on me.”

  Kendril set the unloaded firearm down, and took another drink of ale. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Jade took off her hat, shaking her hair loose. “You could have been killed.”

  The young man sighed. “Forget it, Jade. I wasn’t expecting you to get it loaded anyway.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

  Kendril shrugged. “Many trained soldiers can’t even load properly when they’re in the heat of battle. I didn’t
really expect you to.”

  Jade felt a sudden surge of anger. “Then why did you tell me to reload your guns in the first place?”

  Kendril looked over at her for a moment, and she caught what looked like a half smile on his face in the darkness of the room. “It kept you busy, didn’t it?”

  She stared at him incredulously. “Oh, I get it. You just wanted me out of the way, huh? So I wouldn’t cause you any problems? Is that it?”

  He shrugged again, looking back at the door. “Basically.”

  Maklavir winced.

  Jade shot up out of the chair. She snatched the unloaded pistol off the table where it lay next to Kendril’s hand. “Maybe I should try again, then,” she said sharply.

  Kendril held up a pistol cartridge, his eyes still on the door.

  Jade gave him a cutting look, then snatched the object out of his hand. She retreated to a nearby table.

  “What ‘ave you done to me inn?”

  With a startled move Kendril turned to his side. One hand reached for the loaded gun on the table before him. He relaxed when he saw the innkeeper peering out of the pantry door, his eyes wide at the overturned tables and chairs.

  His gaze fell back on Kendril. “You scoundrel!” he hissed. “You’ve ruined me, you ‘ave. Look at all—” His voice faltered as he suddenly saw the henchman’s body. He threw his glare back at Kendril. “You bloody murderer!”

  “Get back in the pantry, and don’t come out again until I tell you to.” Kendril jerked his thumb to the pantry door. “Move it, unless you want to get killed.”

  ”Unless the lady would like to stay,” said Maklavir hopefully. “It might be safer for her up here, where we can protect her—”

  Kendril glared at the diplomat.

  “Right,” said Maklavir. “I suppose the pantry would be best.”

  With a sniff and a muttered curse the innkeeper disappeared behind the door once more.

  “There,” said Jade, replacing the ramrod underneath the pistol. “It’s loaded.” She walked over to Kendril’s table and put it down carefully.

  He picked it up, examining it carefully. “Looks good.”

  Jade smiled. “I’m a quick learner.” She sat down at the same table he was at, glancing at the open front door. The smile suddenly disappeared from her face. “That man,” she said quietly, “the one with the crossbow. I recognized him.”

  Maklavir’s head shot up.

  Kendril set his mug back down as quickly as he had picked it up.

  “Recognized him?” Maklavir looked at her with concern. “You know the man? From where?”

  The young woman closed her eyes. “I…can’t remember. I just have this image in my head. I can see his face, with the eye patch, and the hat. It’s daytime, in the forest, and there’s shouting, and screaming…” She opened her eyes and quickly looked away. “That’s it. I’m sure it must be something specific I’m remembering, but I can’t quite place it.” She shook her head in complete frustration. “How long is it going to take before I remember?” She looked up at the two men, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m going to be like this forever, aren’t I?”

  “No,” said Kendril gently. “You won’t. It’ll come back, Jade, just give it time.” He picked up the pistol again. “You did a good job on this, by the way. Very professional.”

  Jade wiped the tears away quickly, shaking her head to stop any more from coming. She gave Kendril a faltering smile. “Thank you.” She looked over at Maklavir. “Thank you both. I can’t tell you—”

  “Now, now,” said Maklavir. “There’s nothing to thank us for. We’re glad to help.”

  Kendril gave the diplomat a sharp look. “Speaking of which, aren’t you supposed to be watching the back door?”

  Maklavir raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think they’d come through there again, do you?”

  The Ghostwalker rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Why wouldn’t they come through there again, Maklavir?”

  “Ah.” The finely dressed man nodded quickly. “I see. I hadn’t really given it that much thought, actually. I’m not used to thinking strategically, you understand.”

  “Tactically,” Kendril corrected.

  “Come again?”

  “Never mind.” Kendril sighed, shaking his head. “Why don’t you watch the back door, then?”

  “I’ll watch the back,” said Jade suddenly, rising to her feet.

  Maklavir looked at the girl in surprise. “Um, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Jade. I mean, what if—”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “How hard can it be? If I see anything, I’ll just yell.” She gave Maklavir a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t try to fight anyone off by myself or anything. I’ll stay hidden.”

  The diplomat looked over to Kendril for support.

  The Ghostwalker gave a wry smile. “I thought you told me it was pointless to argue with her, remember?”

  “I’ll only be a few feet away,” Jade said. “There really is nothing to worry about, Maklavir. Besides,” she added, “it will give the two of you time to talk over how we’re going to get out of here alive.” She turned to the back door.

  “Jade,” said Kendril. She stopped, looking back. He lifted one of the loaded pistols in his hand. “Just in case.”

  She stared at it blankly for a moment. “Don’t you need it?”

  “Don’t worry, I have another one.”

  “Tuldor’s beard,” Maklavir remarked in disbelief. “Exactly how many weapons do you have, anyway?”

  Kendril ignored him. “Take it, Jade. You still have those extra cartridges I gave you?”

  “Yes.” She took the gun. “I won’t need this, though.”

  “You never know.”

  She turned and walked around the bar, then vanished into the darkness of the kitchen.

  Kendril lifted the pewter mug to his mouth again. He kept his eyes on the front door.

  Maklavir watched Jade worriedly until she disappeared, then pulled a chair up next to where the Ghostwalker was sitting.

  “Do you really think sending her back there was wise?” he asked in a whisper.

  Kendril wiped his mouth off on the back of his sleeve, then put the mug down again. “Is she any safer in here?”

  Maklavir scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose not. Should we light a candle or something? It’s awfully dark in here.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Kendril motioned to the open front door. “Because there’s a man across the street with a crossbow who is watching us right now, along with Eru knows how many other snipers. As long as it’s dark in here, they can’t see us. If we light a candle, they may start shooting through the door or the windows.”

  “Oh.” Maklavir gave the door an anxious glance. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, Kendril, but I’m beginning to think this is a rather hopeless situation we’re in. Do you happen to have any plan of how we’re going to get out of here?”

  “Yes.” The Ghostwalker leaned forward, reaching beneath his cloak to the small of his back. To Maklavir’s amazement, he pulled out yet another pistol, setting it down on the table by the first. “The way I figure it, they’re going to come back, so there’s no sense in staying here.”

  The diplomat nodded, his eyes still on the gun. “Right.”

  Kendril picked up the weapon, examining it carefully. “So we attack.”

  Maklavir stared blankly at the Ghostwalker. “We what?”

  “Attack.” Kendril checked the flint on the pistol, one eye still on the front door. “We’re dead if we stay here. It’s only a matter of time. We have to get out of this town now, and we have to do it fast.”

  “You do realize that there are only three of us?” asked the diplomat slowly, as if speaking to a small child.

  With a soft thunk, Kendril set the pistol back down on the table. “If you and Jade can make it to the gate, I think I can hold the others off. You would just have to take out the
one guard. Can you do that?”

  Maklavir leaned forward. “You want an honest answer?”

  “Preferably.”

  “Then no, I don’t think I can.”

  Kendril gave the diplomat an exasperated look.

  Maklavir shrugged helplessly. “I’m an ambassador, Kendril, not a soldier. I’m trained in law, not combat.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “We can’t do this. It will never work.”

  “So what exactly do you propose, Maklavir?” Kendril turned his head in the darkness, his voice burning like acid. “That we just stay here and die?”

  “Of course not.” Maklavir straightened up. “But there has to be a better way. I’ve no doubt that you’re a capable warrior, but trying to take on five other men at the same time is a bit much, isn’t it? You’d be killed for certain.”

  “Probably,” said Kendril somberly. “But at least you and Jade would have a chance.”

  Maklavir shook his head. “That’s not the most ideal plan I’ve ever heard, Kendril.”

  “No, Maklavir, it isn’t,” Kendril said, the irritation sounding through in his voice. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not in the most ideal of situations here. Believe me, I’ve thought this through, and I can’t see other realistic option. We wait here, and they’ll kill us. We attack, and they’ll probably kill us, too, but at least we have a chance to break free.”

  “There has to be some other way.” Maklavir thought for a moment. “What about another way to get out? Besides the gates?”

  Kendril gave a shake of his head. “The stockade is too high. We could never climb it, and they’d see us if we tried. What other choice do we have? Chop through the walls with hatchets? Dig under them? All without being seen?” He picked up the pistol again. “No, making a rush for it is our only chance.”

  Maklavir’s face seemed to suddenly light up. “What about blasting through the wall?”

  Kendril bit back an angry response, and took a deep breath. “With what? We’d need a barrel of gunpowder, and the explosion would probably take out half the outpost.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’d need a barrel. Depending on how thick the logs are, I’d say no more than a few small charges. Even the sturdiest structure can be brought down as long as there are explosives placed in the right spots.”

  Kendril turned his head, staring at Maklavir as if seeing him for the first time. “You know how to do that?”

  “Oh, certainly. It really isn’t that hard. Just a matter of learning the right techniques.” He smiled. “Explosives are kind of a hobby of mine, really. Why, when I was young, I—”

  “How much gunpowder would you need?” Kendril interrupted.

  Maklavir thought for a moment. “Not very much. I have some small charges I keep in my saddlebag, out in the stable.”

  Kendril leaned in, his voice low and deliberate. “Let me get this straight. You could blow out a section of the wall? Large enough for us to get through?”

  “Certainly. Of course, it would be slightly more difficult at night with everything all wet. I usually don’t work under those kind of conditions. Well,” he added after a slight pause, “there was one time, a few years ago in a small border town near the Snowy Mountains. Of course, that situation was rather exceptional. For some reason, people seemed to get the idea that I was cheating at cards—”

  “I’d say this is a pretty exceptional situation, too,” said Kendril in scathing voice. “Just tell me, yes or no—can you do it?”

  Maklavir looked him in the eyes. “Yes, I think I could. It certainly beats charging out to our death, at any rate.”

  For a moment there was silence, then Kendril gave a broad grin. “Why Maklavir,” he said, clapping the man on the shoulder, “maybe you aren’t entirely useless after all.” He got up quickly from the chair and headed for the back of the inn.

  “Why thank you,” mumbled the diplomat.