Death Flag

  Fox’s eyes grew wider with every word that came out of Madison’s mouth. Despite his recent days in captivity and seemingly horrid treatment, Madison doubted that very many people had ever spoken to Fox so brazenly in his entire life—if any. The man worked his mouth several times as if looking for an answer before finally relenting. “She is being held in a tent to the east. They’re keeping her on display, or so I have been told. They are using her like a trophy, showing her off as a prize before taking her to the goddess.”

  “Now, you see? Was that so hard?” Madison asked sarcastically. “On a more serious note, do you think you can stand up?”

  Fox shook his head almost immediately. “That is out of the question. I cannot even straighten my legs at the moment. There is no way I would be able to stand, let alone make an escape.”

  Madison looked over at Erin. “Double dose the potions?” he asked. He hated squandering his medical supplies, but he didn’t see any other way out of this. Whatever feelings Fox had for his daughter, and whatever feelings she claimed to have for him, Madison had to believe that she wouldn’t want him to abandon her father. Further, Burke had made it exceptionally clear that they needed to get Fox home one way safely or another. He had been wracking his brain the entire time while convincing Fox to give up Alyanna’s locations for a way to get them out of the camp safely, but without Fox able to at least walk, it was simply out of the question.

  Erin looked up at him and shrugged as if she were indifferent about using both potions. In truth, she was probably saying that it wouldn’t make a difference or harm him to do so. Madison produced the second flask as well and then handed both to Erin after she passed the light rod back to Shayna. The healer tipped up another sizeable amount of the healing drought into Fox’s mouth and then immediately swapped hands and carefully poured out a single drop of the Rush. She held the bottle up to the dim light and examined it as if seeing it for the first time. She swirled it around for a moment and then looked back at Madison.

  “You’re an idiot,” she said quietly before handing both bottles back to him. There was no anger in that statement, and there was no accusation. It was simply a statement of fact made so emotionlessly that even Davion and Ryder would have been proud of her. Hearing her put voice to the words, however, carried all the impact she ever could have asked for. Madison inwardly cringed and instantly knew the reason. They had cautioned him about overusing the potion, and now she was calling him out for it. They had told him that there would be side effects, consequences as real as those he had threatened Lord Fox with, and it was only a matter of time with how much he had drunk.

  Madison just kept his mouth shut and made the two bottles disappear into his stash and then watched as the color returned to Fox’s face. He flexed his legs back and forth as the muscles uncramped, and he tentatively began pushing himself to his feet. Grasping the bars of the cage for support, he hoisted himself up as much as he could and then stood there swaying. The potions must have continued working because he took a step forward under his own weight the moment Madison and Erin and Shayna stepped out of the way, and he stood there confidently.

  Emotions flickered across Fox’s face, and Madison knew exactly what he was thinking. “That’s right,” Madison said. “Now you truly understand.” He was referencing the fact that Darrius could have been saved at any point in time after they reached K’yer Utane. He still had no idea whether Fox had chosen to sacrifice his only son or not, but he wanted to make certain that Fox understood that fact. He had seen Madison recover from his injuries, but seeing something and experiencing it were two different things.

  “Amazing . . .” Fox muttered. Whatever he might have been feeling, none of it showed on his face.

  “We need to get out of here,” Madison said with finality. “We’ve spent too much time here already, and someone is bound to notice those guards sooner or later.” He turned and made his way to the tent’s entrance, and the rest followed behind. Once they were lined up and waiting, Shayna extinguished the torch, and Madison silently slipped back into the darkness outside. He gestured down to the two bodies and then back at the tent, silently instructing the others to help him move them back inside. It might not have been necessary given how dark and secluded the area was, but he’d rather have every extra second that could be afforded him when it came down to it. If moving the bodies meant the difference between someone casually strolling by and finding two dead men versus an unguarded tent, it was worth the time and effort.

  Once they were finished, Madison steered the group back between the same two tents they had passed through before stopping on the other side. He cast several glances in either direction along the road to check for any sign of the person who had been following them before and then walked out as casually as he could just in case the guy was still watching from somewhere. Madison had disappeared with two women and reappeared with an extra man, but unless someone had been keeping an eye him specifically, there was nothing too odd about that fact. Thankfully, Madison and the girls had been in the camp long enough that he was confident they could blend in, and Lord Fox’s clothes were filthy and little more than rags at this point. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the camp to begin with, so unless they happened across someone who specifically knew that he was being held hostage against the express wishes of the goddess, there was no way anyone would recognize him. To any casual observer, it was just two men and two women reappearing on a dark road after likely having a little fun together.

  Madison turned left, which took him further east than he had ventured so far and away from the direction they were expecting Warren to arrive from. He and the girls had entered the encampment from the southwest, and he wanted to leave in the same direction if it was at all possible. That was the closest side of the camp to K’yer Utane in case they had to make a run for it, and it was the most likely spot for Warren to start looking for them if something went wrong.

  Thankfully, there were no more groups to appear and stand in their way, and no random guards made an appearance. He began to suspect that Fox was either misinformed or outright lying after a while, but then something caught his eye up ahead. There was a rather unusual ring of tents, and as he peered at them trying to figure out what was different about them, he realized that they seemed to have been erected around an actual wooden fence. There was a cluster of men standing around out in front of a barred gate, warming themselves next to two brightly-burning fires, and they were all fairly well equipped. These weren’t the common, run-of-the-mill grunts he had seen everywhere else in the camp. These men were well-armed, vigilant, and there wasn’t a single sign of them drinking or otherwise enjoying themselves. He studied them as his small group approached, and he felt them scrutinizing him in return. He half-expected them to make some comment about how they should stay away and mind their own business or to make a pass at the girls, but they remained deathly silent.

  Madison continued on down the street and turned at the first intersection he came to, following the fence around to the other side before coming to a quick halt when he was out of sight of the guards. He looked back at Fox questioningly, and the other man nodded his head.

  “That is the place,” Fox said quietly. “I am certain of it. I think I recognize some of those men. I am almost positive that they were the part of the group who took me captive originally.”

  “Any chance they recognized you?” Madison asked. He very much doubted that anyone would be on the lookout for an escaped captive, but he never knew what to expect.

  Fox shook his head. “I doubt it. They would never expect me to stand up and walk around in my current state, much less approach them.”

  “Good,” Madison answered quietly. He turned back and headed toward the entrance again, walking much more quickly this time.

  “What is he . . . ?”

  “Just go with it,” Shayna insisted, hastily answering Fox’s unanswered question.

  Madison rounded the corner of the road at a trot, and he
watched as heads started turning toward him. Hands started moving toward swords as the others appeared behind him, and Madison broke into a full sprint when he was about a hundred feet away. He pumped his legs as hard as he could as he willed himself to move faster, and his sword appeared in his outstretched hand a moment later. Madison met the first guard before his sword was even halfway out of its sheath. He rammed him in the chest with his shoulder without ever slowing down, sending the guard flying back into the man behind him, and Madison continued on to the third man after stumbling forward several steps while he recovered his balance.

  He brought his sword around as he stepped into the waiting guard, his long, two-handed great sword crashing down onto the guard’s smaller one-handed weapon. His first attack was rebuffed, but it wasn’t without success. Madison watched the man’s eyes grow wide in terror as he fought to keep his own weapon stable, and Madison knew that he was going to win the test of strength sooner rather than later. He pulled his sword back and brought it around again in the exact same fashion, this time twisting his body and throwing some weight behind it. The guard looked like he was torn between trying to block the blow a second time and turning to run, and the split second he took to decide to try and parry Madison’s attack was all it took for him to make a fatal mistake. His sword came up horizontally, but he couldn’t brace it with his free hand like he intended to before Madison’s sword made contact. Unable to turn away the blow, the guard’s lighter sword snapped back under the ferocity of Madison’s attack. The short sword dropped down, and Madison’s sword sliced into the man’s shoulder. The man screamed out in pain and dropped his weapon, but it was far too late for Madison to consider leniency. He kicked the man in the midsection as he pulled back on his own sword, dragging it along the cut, and then rammed his sword into the man’s stomach. The tip of his blade pierced through the man’s thin leather armor like it wasn’t even there, and Madison shoved him over onto his back in his next movement.

  He heard the others begin their fight behind him, and he sincerely hoped that they were both quick and efficient in their work. Jumping into a fight like this was as brazen and unexpected as it was stupid. Erin and Shayna both knew him well enough that they likely expected him to start a fight at the first opportunity that came along, but Lord Fox had been caught completely unaware. The problem was that Madison had started a fight in the middle of the street in a well-lit area. If anyone happened along before they finished their work, there would be hell to pay for it: the entire camp would likely come down on them within minutes, and then they’d be finished for good.

  Madison jumped to the side, ripping his sword out of the dying man’s stomach and narrowly dodging a sword thrust at his own gut. The fourth man had stepped forward to avenge his fallen comrade, and Madison jumped back again a second time as the man slashed at him. Madison jabbed forward with his sword several times, trying to take advantage of the extra reach that he had over the other man’s shorter weapon. The guard responded by swatting Madison’s sword away with his own weapon and then stepping inside Madison’s reach before he could reposition his weapon. The guard’s sword snapped around in a backhanded, slashing blow that would have cut into Madison’s chest if it connected, but fortunately, Madison’s reactions were slightly faster than the guard’s. He lashed out with his foot just as the man came in range, and the toe of his boot drove into the guard’s kneecap. The other man was already committed to the attack, so there was no way for him to avoid it, but that meant that there was also no way for him to stop either. He awkwardly collapsed forward into Madison, his well-maneuvered attack never coming to fruition.

  Madison toppled to the ground with the sentry on top of him, and he instantly dropped his hold on his own sword, letting it fall to the ground beside him. He already knew from experience that it was completely worthless in close-quarters combat like this, so there was little point in him clinging to it. He wrapped his left arm around the guard’s sword arm, making it impossible for the other man to draw it back and stab him, and then lashed out with his fist. His first punch crashed down against the guy’s forehead, and Madison felt a sharp pain flare up through his knuckles and into his wrist. Clenching his teeth against the pain, he forced himself to strike out again. The man’s free hand shot out, knocking away Madison’s fist before it connected with his face. Madison struck out yet again, however, this time without any wind up, and he felt his fist land a clean blow into the man’s eye socket. There wasn’t much force behind it, but it was enough to elicit a yelp from the wounded guard. He twisted the man’s arm around, using it for leverage, and landed a third fast jab that careened off the guard’s cheekbone and across his nose.

  A shadowy form appeared over them both, and a pair of daggers stabbed down into the man’s back before either he or Madison could attack again. The man started to scream out in pain, arching his back against the wounds, and Madison practically shoved his fist into the man’s mouth. It was the only thing he could think of to muffle the sound of his cries, and it was at least partially successful. Madison shoved back, rolling the wounded man off of him, and then pushed his fist as far as he could down the man’s throat. Just like before, he pressed down against the man’s body as he thrashed about, pinning him to the ground, and waited for him to die.

  He lifted his head and cast several wary glances up and down the street while waiting for the man to give up the fight. They were in a well-lit section due to the roaring fires on either side of them, and they were visible from a long way off because of it. It didn’t take long, but every second seemed to drag on longer than the last. Finally, the fallen pirate stopped twitching and Madison pulled his hand free. The guard had bitten down into his flesh rather hard, leaving behind teeth-shaped impressions on either side of his fist, and there was blood trickling down from the bite marks in several places. It was a small miracle that he hadn’t bitten down harder and done some serious damage.

  Erin rushed forward and gave his bloodied fist a cursory inspection, and she must have decided that it wasn’t worth the attention because she quickly moved on to inspect the others. Aside from Madison’s minor wound, they had all gotten off without so much as a scratch. Shayna had finished off the first two guards that Madison bowled over in secession, quickly slitting their throats before they could so much as draw a weapon or climb back to their feet, and Madison had taken out the last two, one with her assistance.

  “Good work,” he said quietly, shooting her a small smile. He knew that she would likely puff up and refuse his praise if they were back in K’yer Utane, but now she just nodded slightly after looking surprised for half of a second.

  He cast a glance toward Fox with the intention of telling him to grab a weapon, but he had already picked up one of the fallen swords and was rifling through the pockets of one of the two dead men. He fished out a small knife, which he stuck into his belt, and a handful of coins, which he stuffed into a pocket. When he saw Madison watching, he just shrugged and said, “Never know when they will come in handy.”

  “We need to get the bodies out of the street,” Madison said. He turned and looked up and down the length of road before grabbing one man by the boots.

  “What are we supposed to do with them?” Fox asked. He didn’t show the least bit of discomfort at the idea of handling a dead man, and it made sense given what Alyanna had told him about her people and their history. They were seemingly a hard people, as comfortable living off the land and fighting for their food as some lords were living in estates with servants, and Madison knew that he had a rough past, so he was likely no stranger to getting his hands dirty when necessary.

  “Damned if I know,” Madison grunted in response as he heaved back on the man’s body. “Inside, I guess.” He kicked his foot out behind him and the wooden gate swung open with the loud creak of rusty hinges. He cringed at the screeching noise that penetrated through the night like a shrill scream, but there was no helping it. If they were going inside, they were either going to have to go throug
h the gate or over the wall. There might have been another entrance, but then he’d likely have to deal with more guards, and he didn’t want to waste the time looking for it.

  Madison walked in slowly, occasionally casting a wary glance over his shoulder as he did. The interior was basically a large, open, dirt-packed lot without so much a candlestick to light it. Everything was shrouded in darkness, and the small aura of light provided by the bright fires outside did little to penetrate its gloom. He dropped the man just inside the wall and then stepped back through the gate to help the others. By the time they were finished, all four dead bodies were piled up together just inside the gate, and the four slipped inside after he retrieved his sword, shutting the gate behind them and casting them into total darkness.

  There was a moment of silence, and then someone started chuckling. It was a low and cold sort of amused laughter that rang out from the darkness and sent chills running up and down Madison’s spine. It started low and soft and then grew into a sinister cackle that raked his nerves and made him grit his teeth because it was so unbearable to listen to. He unconsciously stood up a little straighter and flexed his hand around the pommel of his sword to reassure himself that it was still there. The sword’s presence gave him some small peace of mind since it reminded him that, no matter what came out of that darkness, he had a chance to fight for his survival. That was something he hadn’t had before. The witch had cast him into this world, acting as judge, jury, and executioner and sentenced him to a death for crimes he didn’t remember committing and doubted that he ever had. But as long he had a weapon and breath left in him, he could fight. He had the ability to change his fate with the swing of a sword, and that gave him both strength and hope.