Jonas liked the humility, it seemed genuine. Too many ex-soldiers kept up their rivalry with other units. Or maybe … maybe Daeholf lapsed into seriousness away from his friends.
Now Jonas asked, “So this attack you’ve planned — easy?”
“You’re testing me. I’m not going to spout a cliché about it not being easy. But let me test you. This is what you do all the time I suppose.”
“Some jobs end like this. People hiding away. But if you’re fast and effective you can stop things before that. No,” and Jonas smiled, “that’s not right, not many people hide in an old watch tower!”
“They fancy themselves as soldiers. Or robber barons. It always feels easier than those nights you ride out to meet real soldiers, going against civilians. But they can kill you. It’s not about treating them as soldiers, because civilians act in their own ways, and you have to know those too.”
Jonas had hoped to learn things about Daeholf, but was a little alarmed he’d caused him to slip into a look which was … ‘haunted’ was too strong a word. But certainly grimly efficient.
“I think you’d make a good bounty hunter. Lots of the same skills.”
“We might pursue that. Really. God, we sometimes need money.”
“So what were you doing? Before you were looking for Brig.”
Daeholf didn’t miss a beat. “Drifting. No plan. Seeing what we could find.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, it just missed out the grand dreams of revenge.
Jonas knew it was a lie, but gave an opportunity for some truth. “Can I ask a favour?”
“Sure.”
“Can Zedek show me how he shoots like that?”
A few moments later Daeholf stuck his head in through the kitchen shutters. “We need you Zedek,” he said, and received a very keen “Yes”. Once outside, Zedek added, “I think they’re interviewing us instead of the other way round.”
“Trimas can handle questioning, so come and show us something.”
Soon Zedek was stood in an empty barn, hay piled on one side, strung bow in hand.
“So that’s the bow you showed Alia?”
“Yes. Chosen by myself, but not some outlandish design. Now, you hold your arrows like this, in the hand that holds the bow, you draw on the right side of the fist, and with practice you can do this.” He fired four arrows very quickly, but with great precision. “No help against armour, but few people wear armour, and in close confines it’s very effective. I can clear a room with a bow. I can slow a charging group.”
“Provided they don’t wear armour.”
“You can fire an armour-piercing head with the same bow but for heavy armour I’d need something higher poundage. Just need to be aware. Backing off isn’t a crime.”
“Where did you learn that? Never seen any veterans do that.”
“It’s a woodsman’s trick. Been in my family. And,” Zedek leaned over to Jonas conspiratorially, “I say woodsman, I mean poaching.”
Daeholf looked at the exchange, and thought Zedek would have convinced most people they met. But Jonas … no, Jonas would be on edge. He seemed to Daeholf to be an honest man, and it was a shame they had to keep lying.
*****
It was night and the moon was partly obscured by cloud, which meant the watchman at the back of the watchtower had a limited vision. If he’d been a soldier he’d have been stood rigid, staring out, listening intently for sounds, watching for the pools of darkness changing, because if his sergeant caught him slacking he’d be lashed. But he wasn’t a soldier, he was a young thug enjoying being an outlaw, and he was sat on a stool he’d pulled outside, a bottle of stolen wine in one hand and a desire to go back to sleep in the other.
His wish was soon granted, because another man came out of the stone building, this one scratching himself. “My turn,” he said sullenly, also wishing he could be asleep.
“Dunno why we bother, no one’s coming. Who’d fight us for a few coppers?”
“No one, but you wanna tell them we ain’t playing guards?”
“We could all be knocked out and we’d still hear those fucking sons stumbling up here.”
“More likely the daughters come after us. Yeah, that would be a fine thing.”
“I’m going to sleep.”
The new man sat on the stool, looking out, and the relieved man turned and walked back to the block house. At this point Daeholf reached out from where he’d crept up and concealed himself, swiftly grabbed the man on the stool round the mouth, and slit his throat. Jonas came up out of the shadows for the man nearing the doorway and did the same. Soon both were laying corpses onto the ground.
They nodded at each other, then came to the doorway. No wood between them, and they could hear the voices of five more men inside. They could charge in, but ideally they’d need the numbers thinned.
Judging the time to be right, Trimas now made a move. The watcher at the front of the block house, whose job was to make sure no one came up the long sloping path, heard a horse, and then saw someone coming towards him. Just one person, someone with black skin in this dark night. He called to his friends, and two came out, holding weapons.
“That’s enough,” was the barked warning, and the horseman stopped, slid off the animal, and came walking towards the three thugs with parchment in hand.
“I have come with a message about your hostage.”
“Never seen you before.”
“I’m the only person they could find stupid enough to come here.”
“Have they agreed? Will they marry us?”
“Don’t be fucking stupid.”
At ‘fucking’ two arrows came flying from the overgrown sides of the path, striking two of the men. Trimas pulled a knife and attacked them, stabbing and slicing, so they fell dead to the ground. The third man was running back to the door, screaming bloody murder, and it opened and … Daeholf, standing in the doorway, allowed the man to run onto the point of his sword.
“All dead?” Trimas called, as Alia and Zedek appeared behind him.
“All dead,” Daeholf acknowledged, having killed those inside.
“Any injuries?”
“Nope. They barely had time to move.”
Inside, Jonas had knelt down and was untying the ropes on the hands and feet of the sole survivor of the massacre, a man who looked like a drawn and scared version of the description they’d been given.
“You’re safe now,” Jonas reassured him, pulling out a flask of liquor to give the man a boost. “Your captors have been … stopped.” Jonas thought back at what he’d seen, these new allies acting as the coldest of killers, and this on farmhands. They could be lethal alright, and if he could just keep them pointing in the direction of Marlen, a great help.
*****
“We’ve been travelling with our new friends for a while now,” Zedek said to Daeholf and Trimas after they had set up camp for the evening.
“We have,” Trimas said. “So?”
“Do we trust them?”
“I think so,” Daeholf said. Trimas nodded.
“Time we resumed my training then,” Zedek said.
“Sword or fists?” Daeholf said.
“Sword,” Zedek said, rubbing a phantom pain in his ribs.
“Your turn or mine?” Trimas said.
“Yours,” Daeholf said.
Zedek disappeared to fetch a likely looking pair of sticks. Daeholf and Trimas set about clearing a patch of earth from debris.
“What are you doing?” Alia asked, curious.
“A little sparring,” Daeholf said.
“Just trying to keep in practice,” Trimas said.
Alia looked at Jonas and they both shrugged.
Zedek reappeared with a pair of short-sword sized sticks and showed them to Trimas, who nodded and took one and faced off against him. Daeholf stood to one side, near Zedek, to watch his form. “Begin,” he said.
Zedek thrust and Trimas parried easily before countering, tapping Zedek lightly on the shoulder.
&
nbsp; “Damn,” Zedek said.
They carried on for a while with more of mostly the same, Daeholf periodically stepping in to correct Zedek’s posture or positioning in a lull.
“Something a little odd about the way Zedek is fighting,” Alia said as she and Jonas watched.
Jonas looked at her, interested. “Go on,” he said.
“I’ve watched a lot of soldiers train and fight,” she said. “He’s got most of the moves, but it’s almost as if he’s adapting them from something else, as if it’s a bit awkward for him.”
Jonas smiled at her. “Good eye,” he said. “I’m pleased you noticed it too. It’s subtle though,” he added. “I’m not sure most would see it.”
“What does it mean?”
“Could be that he’s not had a lot of practice since his basic training and his form is off. Could be something else though, something that they’re not telling us.”
“You still trust them?”
“For the most part, yes. As far as we need to anyway.”
“What if I were to spar against them?” Alia said.
“Why?”
“Could be a good way to size them up. And we’ve not done much sparring recently.”
“Your boxing is getting too good for me,” Jonas said. “I’m tired of getting punched in the ribs.”
“Other opponents will be good for me then,” Alia said.
“You’re probably learning bad habits and getting too comfortable fighting me,” Jonas conceded.
“We’re agreed then.”
“Agreed. Who are you going to pick on?”
“Daeholf.”
“Be careful with him. He looks like a proper bastard.”
Alia shrugged. “Aren’t they all,” she said, not catching the emphasis. She stood and loosened off a little. When Zedek and Trimas were finished, she approached Daeholf.
“Enjoy the display?” he said.
“Needs to work on his form a little.”
“He’s a little rusty,” Daeholf said. “Too much time behind a desk.”
“Indeed.”
“So what can I do for you?”
“I want to spar.”
“I think he’s done for the evening.”
“No, you and me.”
Daeholf eyed her closely. He looked awkward.
“What’s up?” Alia said.
“I don’t much like fighting women,” Daeholf said.
“There’s loads of them in the army,” Alia said indignantly.
“I know,” Daeholf said quickly. “But even so.”
“Women fight well,” Alia stated.
“Yes, and I’ve seen some that frightened me. You’re pretty handy, too.”
“So spar with me then.”
“What about Jonas? Shouldn’t he be teaching you?”
“I need to try different opponents. He thinks my boxing is good but he’s big and easy to hit.”
“You’re set on this?”
“I am.”
“Unarmed or swords?”
“Unarmed.”
“Fair enough.” Daeholf undid his sword belt and set it to one side before stripping off his jacket. He moved into the circle Trimas and Zedek had been using and started loosening off.
Trimas and Zedek moved out of the way, watching with bemused expressions.
Alia waited for Daeholf to finish then squared off against him.
“Ready?” she said.
Daeholf adopted his stance and nodded.
They started gently, jabbing and crossing at reduced power and speed. Alia could tell Daeholf was a different sort of opponent to Jonas as he slipped and evaded her punches with ease and minimal movement. Keen to land something on him, she started to put a bit more into it, a hint of frustration on her face. Feinting with a jab, she threw a lightning right cross that slipped through his guard and should have got him flush on the nose but at the last second he ducked slightly and the punch connected at his hairline, jarring her hand. At the contact, they both backed off.
“You’re good,” Daeholf said. Alia shook her hand, flexing her fingers. “Let’s go again,” Daeholf said, setting himself.
Trimas and Zedek exchanged a look.
Alia smiled and faced off against him again. She kept the same intensity, and having had success last time, threw another jab-feint and cross. This time Daeholf swayed sideways and kicked her in the knee. She stumbled and he tapped her faintly on the chin as she went down. She landed flat on the ground. Daeholf stepped back.
Alia looked at Jonas from the dirt. He gave her an I-told-you-so raised eyebrow.
She turned and sat up. Daeholf moved over and held out his hand.
“Sorry,” he said, his expression apologetic.
“That was … unexpected,” Alia said, dusting herself off a little.
“Your boxing is good. But we never said we were just boxing and you were too focussed. Always be aware that an opponent could do something unexpected.”
“Yeah,” Alia said.
“Oh and I’ll kick you again if you try something whilst I help you up,” he said with a smile.
She abandoned that idea, took his hand and he helped her up. She shook her hand again.
“Lesson learned. What was that you did with your head though? My hand is sore.”
“I fought a lot of people in the army. Lots of bigger men. Took a number of beatings to start with so learned how to take a punch. You hit me in the hardest part of the head.”
“Good to know. I think that’ll do me for now,” Alia said, dusting herself off a little more and moving over to Jonas.
Daeholf looked at Jonas and saw that he was frowning at him, though saying nothing.
“My turn,” Trimas said loudly, stepping into the circle, looking to defuse the situation.
Daeholf pondered for a moment then nodded.
"Not entirely sure I agree with what you did there," Trimas said quietly as they squared up. “She's not one of your old squad that needs to be kept in line."
"I thought I was going easy. If she'd been one of my old mob it would have been a proper clout on the way down."
"I'm not sure the old bear approved though," Trimas said, feinting.
Daeholf evaded, thoughtful. "Hmm, I have an idea which might kill two birds. Come at me, but try not to be too unfriendly."
Trimas grinned. Daeholf winced.
Alia sat beside Jonas and watched the two fight. She winced as a particularly heavy blow caught Daeholf in the ribs.
“Maybe I sparred against the wrong one. Trimas is beating the crap out of him,” she said quietly to Jonas.
“Look closer,” Jonas said.
Alia watched them for a minute.
“What am I missing? It still looks like he’s taking a beating to me.”
“No, see where he’s letting himself get hit and how he’s moving to soften the blow. He’s not taking a beating at all. He’s just putting on a show of taking one.”
“You sound impressed.”
“Just watch.”
Alia watched again, this time with different eyes.
“Ah. Oh.”
“You can learn from that. Oh. And I was right, by the way.”
She said something rude and watched closely.
“Are we okay?” Daeholf said to Jonas later when they were alone.
Jonas snorted. “She needed the lesson. Though I’ll admit I was a little surprised by that even though I was expecting something.”
“No hard feelings then?”
“No, none. Though I can’t say I normally approve of people knocking her in the dirt.”
“I’ll try to avoid doing it again.”
“It probably did her some good, though please try not to make a habit of it.”
*****
“Alia,” Daeholf said as she stood over him, whilst he squatted by the fire, pouring himself some tea.
“Daeholf,” she said.
“What can I do for you?”
“Do you throw knives
?”
“I do.”
“Are you any good at it?”
“Not bad,” Daeholf said, curiosity piqued. “Why do you ask?”
“Are you a betting man?”
“Sometimes. Where is this going?”
“How about a wager then. Knife-throwing competition.”
“Interesting. What are the stakes?”
“What you were doing with the sparring with Trimas. Seeming to take a beating without getting hurt.”
“What about it?”
“I want you to train me.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Daeholf said, glancing at Jonas.
“Hence the wager.”
“Hmm.”
“I win, you train me.”
“You lose?”
“I sleep with you,” she said nonchalantly.
Daeholf choked on his tea. He put his cup down carefully and tried to shake some of the wet from the front of his shirt.
“Fun as that sounds,” he said, gathering himself, “and tempted as I am, that’s a bit of an uneven bet.”
“Oh don’t worry, you’re not going to win,” Alia said, smiling sweetly at him.
“Aren’t we confident?” Daeholf said with a laugh. “Okay, you’re on.”
“What’s she doing?” Trimas said to Jonas quietly as they overheard the exchange.
“Taking some advice I gave her a while ago rather too literally,” Jonas replied with a grimace.
“I’ll get the knives,” Alia said.
“We’re doing this now then?” Daeholf said.
“No time like the present,” she replied, moving to her horse.
Daeholf approached Jonas. “It’s just a bet, a bit of fun, I don’t intend to follow through if I win,” he said with a nervous smile.
“That’s up to her, I’m not her father,” Jonas said, shrugging. “And I do expect you to follow through if she wins.”
“Really? It’s likely to be a bit brutal.”
“She needs to learn from different people. She’s been getting complacent sparring against me.”
“Perhaps you’re too close. Maybe you’ve been going a bit easy on her.”
“Maybe,” Jonas conceded.
“Will she learn?”
“Yes, and well when she gets her ego out of the way.”
“I’m still not sure about this.”
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 28