He set off down an alleyway, away from the main road, into a twisting warren of narrow lanes. High tenements hemmed them in, while rubbish and human waste ran down a trough in the centre of the street. Flora earned a few rough glances, while Kallie caused more than one man to turn his head. Keira frowned.
‘I should have brought the storm lantern,’ muttered Flora.
‘And my longbow,’ said Kallie .
‘Quit whining,’ Keira said, ‘the fucking pair of ye. I’ve done weed deals in the forests of Sanang, this’ll be a piece of piss in comparison.’
They reached a huge wall that cut the street ahead in two. It extended on both sides as far as Keira could see. The man halted, and glanced at her.
‘This the first time ye’ve seen it, aye?’ he said. ‘Holdings bastards, walling us in like we were wild animals.’
‘Watch yer fucking tongue,’ Keira said. ‘My friend here’s a fucking Holdings. If ye call them that again the deal’s off, and I’ll kick yer nuts in.’
The man glowered. ‘Wait here,’ he said, then turned and disappeared down an alleyway that ran by the wall.
‘This is no good,’ Kallie said. ‘We should get the fuck out of here.’
‘Yeah,’ said Flora. ‘I agree.’
Keira glared at them.
‘You two head back, then,’ she said. ‘Go on, I don’t need ye here, I can take care of this on my own, ya pair of useless fuds.’
‘Alright,’ Kallie said. ‘We’ll meet ye back at the tavern where we met that auld guy. Might buy him a drink and see what else he knows. Come on, Flora.’
The Holdings woman swayed, glancing at the two Kell women.
‘Go on,’ Keira said. ‘Fuck off.’
Flora shook her head, and walked off with Kallie. Keira stared at them until they were out of sight.
She sighed. She just needed to get this deal over with.
‘Where have the others gone?’ the man said.
Keira turned. ‘They were starting to piss me off, so I sent them away.’
He eyed her for a moment. ‘This way.’
He darted off towards the alleyway, and Keira followed. They entered the shadow of the dark lane, with the great wall cutting through the town on one side, and a tall row of rundown tenements on the other. The man knocked on a door, leaned close and whispered something .
The door opened, and a burly Kellach stared out.
‘Thought ye said there were three?’
‘The other two bailed,’ Keira said, ‘but I’m still in.’
‘Ye got the cash on ye?’
‘Depends how much ye’ve got to sell.’
‘Weapons?’
‘Knife.’
The man at the door nodded, and stood aside to let her enter. As she passed he held out his hand, and she plucked the knife from her boot and handed it to him. The other man tried to enter, but the doorkeeper slammed the door in his face.
‘Wee runt,’ he frowned.
She shrugged.
He gestured towards a set of stairs leading down. She stepped in front of him, and he followed her into the basement. Another large Kellach was sitting by a door, a crossbow across her knees. She got up as Keira approached, and opened the thick door. She stepped through, and the door was closed behind her.
Faces looked up from a table, where six sat, drinking, smoking and poring over a large map of Rainsby. Keira scanned the room. Three lamps. She smiled. Against the walls behind the table were crates, stacked up to the ceiling. The six were mostly Kellach, but a Holdings officer in uniform and a Rakanese man sat among them.
A Kellach woman in leather armour glanced up at her.
‘So,’ she said, ‘define shitload.’
Keira flexed her fingers. ‘I want dream, keen and dull. What’s yer price for a pound of each?’
The woman smiled. ‘One-fifty for the dream and keen, two hundred for dull.’
‘Give me a second,’ Keira said, counting in her head. ‘Alright, I’ll take three dream, three keen and one dull.’
The folk at the table laughed.
‘Ye want seven pounds of weed?’ the woman said.
‘Aye. I think that qualifies as a shitload. ’
‘Yer full of crap,’ said a long-haired Kellach man. ‘There’s no way ye’ve got over a thousand gold on ye.’
She shrugged. ‘Show me the weed, and I’ll show ye the cash.’
The woman shook her head. ‘Cash first.’
Keira unbuttoned her tunic, revealing belts wrapped round her midriff, thick with gold.
‘Your turn,’ she said, buttoning it back up.
‘You silly bitch,’ said the Holdings officer. ‘You walk in here with all that money? No friends, and unarmed. You know what’s going to happen now. You’re going to give us that money, and if you don’t make a fuss, then we’ll probably let you walk out alive.’
‘I’m not unarmed.’
The woman laughed. ‘What? Have ye got a wee knife tucked away somewhere?’ She drew her sword and laid it on the table. The others next to her also pulled out their weapons.
Keira gazed at the swords and bows, and smirked. ‘Toys for bairns.’
She flicked her fingers and a whoosh of fire spun up from one of the lamps, extinguishing it. She coiled the flame into a long whip, and ran it over the table, slicing it in two. It collapsed, the weapons clattering to the ground. The Holdings officer went for a knife on his belt, and she spat a dart of flame from the fiery whip. It struck his hand and he yelled in pain, grasping his injured and scorched palm.
The others backed off, their eyes wide, and Keira pointed her finger upward, and the fiery whip rose, and began circling the room, a foot over their heads.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘where’s my weed?’
‘Get it, get it!’ the Kellach woman yelled. The Rakanese man and a Kellach ran to the back of the room. They ripped open the crates and began throwing large packets to the ground.
‘Put them in a sack,’ said Keira. She glanced at the Holdings man, who was crouching on the floor a yard from the broken table, his hand burnt and bleeding.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ he said. ‘A fucking rogue fire mage, what the fuck are you doing here? If the town knew you were here they’d send every fucking soldier they’ve got after you. The Emperor would come himself if he knew.’
‘And are you going to fucking tell him?’ Keira snarled.
‘We’re fighting against the Emperor, you stupid bitch.’
‘Aye? Yer not doing a very good job.’
She unbuttoned her tunic, and slung the coin-filled belts to the ground.
‘Deal’s a deal,’ she said. She picked up the sack, glanced inside, then backed to the door. ‘It’s been a pleasure.’
The others stared at her. She opened the door and slammed it behind her, knowing that the fiery whip would only last a few more seconds. She smiled at the woman guarding the door, nodded, then sprinted up the steps, the bulky sack over her shoulder.
She ran to the front door. As she was yanking the bolts clear, the doorman came out of a side room. He frowned at her.
‘Nice doing business with ye,’ she yelled, and leapt out of the door and into the alleyway. The young man who had guided her was sitting on a low wall opposite.
‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘What about my three gold?’
She threw him a small purse from her belt.
‘Ye can keep whatever’s in that if ye show me fastest fucking way out of here.’
He opened the bag, his face lighting up.
‘Stop her!’ came a voice from the building, and the doorman bounded towards her.
Keira grabbed her guide and hauled him off down the street, sprinting. The young man glanced over his shoulder at their pursuers, his eyes wide.
‘Shit,’ he cried. ‘What the fuck did ye do?’
‘Never mind that, just keep running.’
Her guide sped off through the warren of streets like a hare, and Keira put her head down and followed, running until her br
eath was coming in thick gasps, her chest aching. They skidded through refuse-strewn alleys and under low arches, where it was pitch dark in the shadows. Her knees gave first, and she stumbled to a halt, leaning over and vomiting against a tenement wall.
‘Pyre’s arsehole,’ the young man cried, glancing back the way they had come. ‘I’ll never be able to go back there again. Fucksake.’
‘Did we lose them?’
‘Aye.’
She wiped her mouth and straightened.
‘That was fucking funny,’ she laughed. ‘Ye should’ve seen yer face.’
He weighed up the purse in his hand. ‘I hope it was worth it, ya mental cow.’
‘Fucking right it was.’
She grinned, and he started to laugh. A crossbow bolt struck him in the side of his head and he tumbled to the cobbles.
Keira turned, and a bolt hit her left side, above her hip. She grunted, and fell to one knee.
‘Fucking bitch,’ said the Holdings officer, reloading, his right hand swathed in bandages. ‘This is your own fault, you know,’ he said, pointing the bow at her head. ‘If you’d listened to me, we would have let you live.’
‘Eat shit, ya donkey-fucking prick.’
There was a blur of movement to her right, and a staff swung out, clattering the Holdings man on the back on the head. His eyes went blank as he sank to the ground. Kallie stepped forward, Flora just behind. They gazed at the bodies lying in the alleyway.
Flora raised an eyebrow. ‘Were those really going to be your last words?’
‘Sorry I wasnae more poetic,’ Keira muttered. ‘I was a bit distracted with this fucking bolt in my side.’
Kallie leaned forward and yanked it from the wound.
‘Ah ya fucking bastard,’ Keira cried, holding her side. She ripped a length of cloth from her cloak and wrapped it round her waist, grunting in pain.
‘This guy was the only one that chased you,’ Flora said, kicking the Holdings officer. ‘The rest gave up pretty quickly. ’
‘That’s cause I fucking paid the bastards,’ Keira said, straightening. ‘He was just pissed off that I burnt his hand.’ She glanced down at her dead guide. ‘And he was just unlucky.’
She took the purse from his grip and put it back in her belt, then she hoisted the sack.
‘Let’s go.’
‘Wait,’ said Flora. She knelt by the Holdings officer, and drew a knife. She slapped him. ‘Wake up.’
‘What the fuck are ye doing?’ Keira said.
‘Hold him down,’ Flora said.
Keira shrugged and bent over, gripping the officer’s arms. Kallie opened her water bottle and sprinkled some over his face. He spluttered, his eyes opening.
Flora placed the knife against his throat. He stared at them.
‘Listen,’ said Flora, ‘I’m going to ask you a few questions. Do you understand?’
The officer gave a slight nod.
‘Good,’ said Flora. ‘Now, we heard the Emperor invaded the Holdings. Is it true?’
He nodded.
‘And he’s destroying it?’
‘He’s been burning the lands of the rebel Holds,’ the officer gasped.
‘The rebels. Give me some names.’
‘Holdfast, Holdwick, Blackhold, they were the main ones,’ he said. ‘Others too. Terras, Cane, Elance…’
‘Cane?’ Flora’s hand started to shake.
‘You from Hold Cane, are you?’ the man said.
Flora said nothing, a tear rolling down her cheek.
‘We done?’ Keira said.
‘Yes.’
Keira grabbed the officer’s hair and smacked his head off the cobbles, knocking him out.
They stood, and Keira watched as Flora put her knife away.
‘Come on,’ said Kallie, and they headed off into the alleyways.
Flora was silent the whole way back to the forest covering the hills next to Rainsby. They had departed the town without trouble, even managing to buy a few bottles of whisky from a store by the gates from the money in the purse that Keira had retrieved.
When they were a mile away from where they had hidden the carriage, Flora broke down, fell to her knees and began weeping. As Keira frowned, Kallie went to the side of the Holdings woman, putting an arm over her shoulder.
‘Those fucking stupid bastards,’ Flora sobbed. ‘Idiots. Following those Holdfast fuckers like they always have. I fucking knew it.’
‘Holdfast?’ said Kallie. ‘Isn’t that…?’
‘Aye,’ said Keira. ‘That’s Daphne’s clan or Hold, or whatever.’
‘It’ll have been Daphne’s father,’ Flora said. ‘The famous Godfrey, who used to fuck the old queen.’
Kallie frowned. ‘I wonder if Killop’s up there.’
‘So you’re Hold Cane?’ said Keira.
‘Yeah.’
‘Does that mean yer nobility, like Daphne?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Flora said, wiping her eyes. ‘I’m Flora of Hold Cane, she’s Daphne Holdfast. My family are tenants on the Hold Cane estate. Workers, not lords or ladies.’
‘What do ye want to do?’ said Kallie. ‘We still planning on going up there?’
Flora stood, and hardened her features. ‘Yes. I get it if you don’t want to come, but I need to go back, to see if my family are still alive.’
Kallie smiled. ‘We’ll be with ye all the way. Keira?’
‘Aye. Sure.’
They resumed their journey through the forest.
Kallie let out a cry, and began running. Keira frowned, then saw the smoke rising through the branches of the forest. They ran, racing between the trees towards the clearing where their carriage was hidden. They burst out into the open .
‘Fuck!’ Kallie yelled, clenching her fists.
The carriage was a burnt-out wreck. Parts were still smouldering, and wafts of smoke trailed up into the darkening sky. Their clothes and possessions lay scattered on the muddy ground, along with their ransacked luggage. A lone winged gaien circled overhead.
Keira stumbled through the wreckage, picking up items of her clothing. She saw the wooden bear and tucked it into her pocket.
‘They’ve taken the food and weapons,’ said Flora. ‘Shit, looks like we’re walking.’
Kallie shook her head. ‘This is your fault, Keira. We should never have left the carriage unguarded.’
‘What?’ Keira cried. ‘Do ye think if we’d left Flora here, she’d have been able to stop a bandit attack on her own? From the tracks it looks like a whole fucking pack of them were here.’
Kallie sat on a crate, her head in her hands.
‘So,’ she said, ‘we’ve no money, no food, and no transport.’
‘Aye,’ Keira smirked, ‘but we’ve got a shitload of weed.’
Chapter 22
Shield
S hield Mountains, Imperial Holdings – 23 rd Day, Last Third Autumn 507
Killop raised his hand for quiet, his eyes scanning the narrow gorge beneath them. The squad of Holdings troopers stilled, watching him for the signal. Through the tangled thorn bushes and branches of spruce trees, a group of Rahain soldiers were entering the valley from their left. They scrambled over the loose rocks, their heads down. The lead pair had their crossbows out, while the twenty or so behind them had their bows slung over their shoulders.
Killop extended a finger, and the squad took up their positions on the ridge above. Two troopers took hold of a tree trunk that had been felled and wedged under a great boulder, and the others aimed down the shafts of their crossbows.
They waited, Killop staring into the gorge. As soon as the last pair of Rahain had come into view, he drew his sword. All along the ridge, his squad loosed their bows, a dozen bolts flying down to where the Rahain clustered in the narrow ravine. At the same time the two troopers heaved on their wooden lever, and the boulder creaked and toppled over the edge, rolling down the slope and crashing to the bottom of the ravine, cutting off the enemy’s retreat .
&nbs
p; Killop bounded down the steep side of the gorge, leaping from rock to rock as the squad continued to pepper the Rahain. He landed at the bottom, and leaned back against a giant boulder, keeping out of sight. The first Rahain came into view, as they ran from the hail of bolts. Killop stepped out in front of them, swinging his sword. His lunge caught the lead Rahain in the side, cleaving him in two. He reached out with his left hand and grabbed the throat of the second Rahain. He shook him like a rag doll, and threw him at the others sprinting towards him.
Battle frenzy gripped him, and he charged into their midst, his sword lashing out from side to side, clearing a path. The ravine was too narrow for the Rahain to get out of his way, and some tried to run back down the gorge, but were hit by the Holdings squad above, who were still shooting. Killop pressed on, slashing and lunging, until the last Rahain fell to the ground, her head split open.
He stood, panting, his right arm aching, and stared at the corpses littering the gorge. The Holdings climbed down from their positions. They gazed from the bodies to Killop and back again, their eyes wide.
‘Check for survivors,’ he said to a pair of young troopers.
‘Are we taking prisoners, sir?’
‘No. Kill them all,’ he said. ‘The rest of you, get these bodies cleared. Throw them off the cliff, then pick up all the bolts and anything else lying about. We’ve got twenty minutes to get everything looking normal again.’
He walked down the gorge, as the squad got to work. He kept half an eye on the two troopers looking for survivors, and examined the dead Rahain, shaking his head.
‘You’ve fought the Rahain many times before, haven’t you, sir?’ asked a trooper.
‘Aye,’ he said, ‘though none as poorly equipped or trained as this lot. They’re more like peasants with crossbows, rather than real soldiers.’
He noticed the two young troopers standing over the body of a Rahain. He walked over, and looked down. One of the troopers frowned .
‘She’s still breathing, sir.’
‘I can see that. You know what to do.’
The troopers aimed their crossbows at the injured Rahain, but neither loosed.
‘Something wrong?’ Killop asked.
‘Sorry, sir,’ said one. ‘It’s just that we’ve always been taught that executing prisoners, especially wounded ones was… wrong.’
Sacrifice Page 32