“Aye,” Zar answered.
“It’s me!” Shahla giggled, then buried her face in his shoulder.
“Why do you do it?” Zar asked.
Shahla pulled her head from Zar’s body and sat up. “There’s too much wrong in the world,” she said. “If I can help to fix even a piece of it, I will. I do it for myself, for the other women who were taken to the storehouse with me, for the unknown person who suffers in silence. If I can help, I will. I’ll help the good, and I’ll kill the wicked.”
“The wicked,” said Zar, cringing as Ramla’s face drifted through his mind.
“Aye. I’ve killed bandits in all four lands. I saved a man from Snowguards near the capital. I destroyed a clan of witches.”
Zar wanted to shout and weep, but instead managed a few solemn words. “You’ve been busy.”
“I have.”
“Shahla, the Scarlet Quill, punisher of the wicked,”
said Zar, forcing a smile. “Does she not show mercy?”
“When it is deserved.”
“Well, if you truly want to help, I have some things to tell you.”
“What things?”
“Things of Tiomot, Dandil, the Clan of the Condor, and a man called Lawless Tuskin.”
°
It was Zar’s first moment alone with Asha in two days as Shahla bathed, and Zar led the camel away from the spring to graze.
“I love the woman,” he told Asha quietly, “more so now than ever before, but I cannot stand her childish idea of morality. She … she killed Ramla … and all of the maidens of Or. I know they were witches. I know they were wrong. But Ramla was my friend. She was my friend, Asha, and I never judged her for what she did. It didn’t involve me— unless I needed it to. You see, I’m no better than she, for while I would never dare dabble in such devilry, I had no problem requesting her council when I knew the source of her information. I was just as wrong as her, but somehow talked myself into feeling less accountable because I never directly partook in her craft.
“I never stepped into that darkness with her. I have my own darkness to flee from. But her darkness was of a different sort. And she—each time I came—she was deeper into that darkness. I meant to be done with her many times, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to break with her when I had the choice, and now the choice has been taken from me. So be it, Asha. The dawn has come and chased away the night. So be it.
“Let us speak of something more uplifting. Ah, aye, that. Let us speak of that. Asha, I had no idea that would happen. I didn’t plan it, I swear. What? I didn’t! It was her, Asha, not me. I mean it. I’ve always respected my friendship with Barek, more than anything else in this world, I daresay. It was not my intention to bed Shahla. I tried to avoid it, in truth. I’ve always tried to avoid it, like at the inn in Gara—I told you about that, didn’t I?—or in the woods after the storehouse. She’s been quite forward with her affections, has she not?
“It’s a strange thing for me because when I met her she was just a girl. Now things are very different, aren’t they, Asha? She’s a woman—a most attractive woman, I daresay—and she doesn’t seem to think anything odd of being with me. In fact, she doesn’t seem to think about it at all, as if it’s of no consequence. When we were finished she said it should have happened years ago, she said she’d dreamed of it. What do you make of that, Asha?”
Asha held her peace, leaving Zar to reflect on his own words in silence. When they made it back to the spring, Shahla had finished her bath and was sitting on the ground with a quilt draped loosely over her shoulders. She stood as Zar approached and stretched out her arms, and the quilt opened to show droplets of water rolling over her breasts and down her stomach.
Zar looked at her and shook his head as his blood stirred. “How will we ever save Krii?”
The woman smiled and darted off towards her horse. “I’ll get dressed now—and stay dressed.”
Zar chuckled at her playfulness, wondering if she knew how much he enjoyed it. The woman was dressed before long, and she mounted Dalya and Zar mounted Asha and they headed off to the east.
“So you’re certain he’ll be in this forest?” said Shahla.
“This Tuskin you speak of?”
“Not certain,” Zar replied, “but it’s a good start.”
“The capital is north of here.”
“Aye,” Zar agreed. “That’s why we’re going east.”
Shahla beamed “I know what route you’re taking—east over Dorad, then north past Vaul.”
“Aye,” Zar answered with a smile. “You know the land now.”
“Like my very own hands.”
“Shahla, the bandit killer,” Zar teased, “that knows the land like her very own hands. Did I get that right?”
“Almost,” the woman replied. “I’m the Scarlet Quill now. Shahla died long ago.”
Zar didn’t mean for it to be so obvious how much the statement surprised him, but the silence that followed seemed only natural. Shahla simply smiled at him and kept riding. It was clear he wasn’t the only one who’d changed, for as he had gone from a rogue to a prince, Shahla had changed from a naive and innocent girl to a complacent and comely killer. She was beautiful and dangerous, a similar mix of attributes that had made Ramla so appealing. While it hurt and angered him to think of the two women in the same series of thoughts, he found it peculiar that what Shahla had taken away in Ramla she had given back in herself. It was an interesting idea, but did nothing for the pain.
Three days east over Dorad and the travelers turned their mounts to the north. The open plains condensed into a populated wood as the two moved north toward the towns. On the fifth day the town of Vaul crawled into sight from the other side of the horizon. The two rode in and rested the night at the inn, and they resumed their journey the next day with the shinning of the morning sun.
“How far until Karthin?” Shahla called, flashing Zar a smile.
“You tell me, Scarlet.”
“A day at this pace,” Shahla answered. “If we push them we can make it well before nightfall.”
Zar smiled. She was exactly right. “Did you hear that, Asha? She wants us to sweat today.”
Zar nudged Asha with his heel and whipped down on her reigns until she picked up her speed, leaving Dalya and her rider behind. Asha’s long legs brought them to a gallop, and the camel stretched out her long neck and pointed ahead. Moments after, Shahla galloped at his side, and passed him. “Aye, she’s a bit faster, but she tires much faster than you. Watch, she can’t keep it up for long.”
Asha pulled her neck forward even more and maintained her rapid pace over the road. After a time, Dalya’s speed dwindled, and the mount drifted back into closer position with Asha. Eventually, she sunk behind Asha and Zar knew there would be no more galloping from Dalya for a while. Both riders pulled back their reins and allowed their mounts to rest as they walked side by side, and after a few more of such races the town of Karthin was in sight.
It was about an hour before dawn and the two headed to the Big Fish tavern for an evening meal. Shahla sat beside Zar at the table, their backs to the wall, and after the barmaid brought their food, they enjoyed the meal in relative silence. It was spiced venison stew, a local favorite, and Zar and Shahla weren’t the only two in the room it had hushed to quietness.
Zar always sat at the rear side of the table bench, his back to the wall so he could see the room. He wondered if Shahla had the same habit, or if she simply sat there today because he did. It seemed only logical to sit where one was able to see any strange or ill happenings while they transpired, instead of potentially dealing with it afterwards. An overly large, brutish fellow armored in leather and mail with an iron helm over his face approached their table, carrying a sword that looked to be forged for a giant. His face and manner were shocking enough—wild savage eyes peering through the helm’s opening that allowed only his eyes and nose to show.
“Dog!” Shahla yelled, and was on her feet in an instant. Sh
e jumped out from behind the table and drew her bow and fired it—all in a second.
It was a close-ranged shot and the giant shuffled rather quickly—too quickly for a man his size—and pulled up his sword over his face. Shahla’s arrow bounced off the broad blade as Zar stepped onto the bench he was sitting on and hopped onto the table, drawing his sword.
“Him I kill!” The giant roared, looking at Zar. He then looked to Shahla. “You leave now, or I kill both.”
Zar didn’t pause to try to figure out the situation. He had seen enough. His sword slashed at the man’s throat, but the brute once again held up his broad-bladed cleaver sword and blocked the strike. Shahla sent an arrow into the man’s left wrist, and he roared out as he cocked back both arms to heave his giant cleaver-sword. Zar darted off the table before he did.
The table crumbled as the brute’s cleaver struck, leaving pieces of wood splintered about the ground. He was quick to recover after the missed strike, for as Zar rushed in he was already cocking back for another swing. Zar darted back out. The giant quickly raised the cleaver to his face and an arrow again bounced off the blade.
Zar moved in, met blades with the man and felt his wrist and arm jerk in pain as the blow sent him nearly to the other side of the tavern. The brute grimaced and turned around quickly to Shahla, an arrow stuck in the back of his neck. Zar slashed—the blade of ill effect due to the man’s armor and sheer fatness. The brute turned back around and swung madly at Zar.
An arrow bounced off the back of the giant’s helm as Zar avoided the wild swing and feinted back. The man’s heavy swing gave Zar the time he needed. At the end of the stroke as the brute’s arm was yet stretched out and his weight already committed, Zar chopped down into his right arm and let red spill from a deep wound. It forced the giant to wield his cleaver in his left arm.
The man grew frenzied. He spun violently in a circle, swinging his cleaver everywhere. As he turned, Zar noted that Shahla had landed three more arrows into his backside—one in his back near his armpit, and two more in his neck. The man stormed the room, charging everywhere randomly and frenetically. He stormed toward Zar and Zar dodged. The brute ran right into a frightened patron and hacked the man down until he lay in pieces on the floor.
Shahla cried out as the patron was killed, rapidly firing her bow from the corner of the room. She landed two more arrows in the brute’s neck, the shafts biting through links of the chainmail hood that rose from his shoulders into his helm. Zar rushed forward and ducked a cleaver blow. The bloody arm he’d wounded slammed into him, sending him flying across the room. The giant staggered, a swarm of arrows nesting there. He swayed, and his leg buckled under his weight. He collapsed to one knee, placing a hand firmly on the ground to support himself.
The brute trembled, barely able to hold himself up, and Zar rushed forward and hacked at the man’s neck. The blade split the mail and dug into the man’s broad neck, leaving a fountain of blood spattering over his shoulder.
The man growled and dropped his cleaver. Before Zar could take a breath, a massive hand secured itself around his throat. Zar’s body swayed as he tried to free himself, and the brute brought his other arm—wounded and bloody—to the other side of Zar’s throat. He squeezed.
The man roared as he squeezed tighter and Zar’s breath left. A clear fluid splashed from the brute’s helm, squirting out from one of the eye openings. An arrow had pierced the man’s eye. The grip around Zar’s throat loosened as another arrow wedged itself right next to the first, digging deeply into the same eye socket as clear fluid dribbled down the helm.
The giant fell.
29
“YOU SAID HE WAS CALLED THE BUTCHER?” Shahla asked, peering through the forest as Dalya carried her. “And there is another who will come for your life? The Ghost?”
“Aye,” Zar answered. “Ramla … I … I was … I was told they would be after me when I caused that commotion in front of Snowstone Castle.” It was the second time Zar had casually mentioned Ramla’s name without thinking, but just like the first time, he cut his words short and started a completely different sentence, as if he had simply stuttered or stumbled his words. He wondered if Shahla had noticed. “It makes sense that the Butcher was the one who captured you. He and the Ghost were once of the Condor and still do jobs for the clan, although they no longer belong to it.”
“And the realm believes the Condor to be in league with them,” Shahla added, “so they hire the Condor to do their dirty work, according to Lawless Tuskin?”
“Aye.”
“Snowstone employs the Condor and the Condor employ—what did you say they were called?”
“The three apostates,” Zar answered.
“Aye,” confirmed Shahla. “The Condor deserters. It’s an interesting arrangement.”
“More interesting than this forest?” Zar asked, looking ahead into Blackwood. “Well, I’m a man of my word am I not?”
Shahla’s eyes were still occupied with the forest around her, the tall blackwood trees, the two dragonflies that buzzed past her ears, a heron that flew into the trees, and the scurrying of a frightful hare that had heard the hooves of Asha and Dalya and decided to make a break for it. “What word?” She finally asked.
“I said that one day we would explore this forest together.”
Shahla finally looked at Zar and beamed, and she hopped off Dalya’s back, grabbed the mare’s reins, and skipped off the trail and into the thick of the woods.
Zar shook his head and smiled, then also dismounted and followed. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“No,” Shahla called back, her shape lost among the trees, but Dalya’s large body was still in sight.
Zar quickened his step to keep up with her, and the two continued through the forest, maneuvering as best as they could while leading their mounts behind them. There were many areas of the place that were just too thick, and when a thicket arose before them or the trees and saplings grew too close together, they detoured around the vegetation, finding the most suitable way for them and their mounts.
There was a clearing ahead and through the trees they could see the shimmering of water.
“It’s a lake!” Shahla exclaimed. “I knew it as soon as I saw the heron!” She ran towards the water.
Two deer that had been standing on the far side of the water pranced nimbly into the trees. Shahla approached the lake to the sound of chirping noises, tall reeds that rustled in the wind, and a splash from a turtle that slid off the rocks on the bank and into the water.
“Did you know this lake was here?” she asked, staring out into the water.
Zar picked up a flat stone and skipped it over the surface of the water. “No, surprisingly.”
Shahla smiled. It was obvious it gave her joy to bring Zar to a place he had never been to before.
“Tuskiiiiiiiin!” The woman yelled. “Lawwwwlessss Tuskiiiiiiin!”
Zar stared at Shahla with wide eyes.
She burst into laughter. “What? How else will we find the man? If this forest is as big as you say, it could take us weeks to locate him. Join me.”
Zar shrugged. “Well, I must admit I don’t have a better idea. Tuskiiiiiiiiiin!” he shouted. “It’s your old friend, Zaaarrrrr! Tuskiiiiiiiiin!”
“Tuskiiiiiiiiiin,” Shahla’s voice sounded between her laughter. “We’re here by the laaaaaaaaaaake! Tuskiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.”
When the two had scared off every living creature for miles with the noise of their shouting, they left the lake and continued east through the woods. They stayed east for the remainder of the day, made camp there in the woods for the night, and turned their direction to the north the next day, since continuing east would bring them out of the forest leagues north of the city of Gara. They traveled north in Blackwood Forest for two more days, and after another few periods of shouting Tuskin’s name, decided that the man was not in the wood. They traveled south, heading in the direction of Karthin. It was almost dusk when Asha’s head perked up and
waved back and forth through the air as she shuffled uneasily and groaned.
“There’s someone approaching,” said Zar, his voice quiet as he met Shahla’s eyes.
Shahla and Zar were on foot, leading their mounts by the reins. They released the reins as they readied weapons instead.
A twig snapped and Zar spun around, but afar off in the trees he only saw the shifting of a branch, the waving of leaves in the wind. For a second he thought he saw a figure moving through the trees, but as he focused his eyes it looked less like a figure, and more like an indistinct conglomerate of branches, leaves, and saplings.
Then another sound, which seemed to come from above them, caused Shahla to draw her bow and point up into the trees. Zar’s focus was set on the ground, on the sounds he had previously heard about thirty paces away, next to a large blackwood tree with a thicket growing out on its left side. He stepped closer to the area, his sword in front of him.
“There’s more than one,” Zar called to Shahla.
“There’s something up there,” said Shahla, sighting down her drawn arrow while peering into the tree branches above.
“Aye, stay focused on that one.”
The swift slice of wind was heard as if an arrow had been fired, but Shahla’s bow was still drawn. As she jumped and looked anxiously around, a body fell from the trees and struck the ground. It was a man cloaked in gray with rows of knives sheathed in his belt and an arrow sheathed in his chest.
“I got him, Zar!” A raspy voice shouted. A thicket afar off moved and jumped as a man came crawling out of it.
Zar smiled as soon as he heard the voice. “If it isn’t Lawless Tuskin.”
The man entangled in vines and saplings stepped forward like a walking bush, and Shahla looked on with open mouth and eyes as he walked towards them, yanking off the pieces of trees and plants that were tied to him. He opened his arms and embraced Zar.
Roads of the Righteous and the Rotten (Order of Fire Book 1) Page 28