Death Flag

  Alyanna stepped forward and brazenly punched the man in the nose, a fast right jab that left him clutching his face and stumbling back.

  “Ow!” he cried. “Whad waf dat for?”

  “For being a lowlife piece of shit!” she growled, her voice thick with emotion.

  Madison looked over at her with astonishment written plainly on his face and then warily glanced up to the others who had been watching. The slavers on the sidelines began edging a little closer, and several had amused but dangerous looks in their eyes.

  “Aly,” he said in a low tone to get her attention. “I don’t know what this is about but—”

  She glared at him at first, but her gaze softened almost instantly. She looked like she was still tense and on high alert when she said, “Sorry. I’m just so frustrated with this whole situation. I’m sick of people . . . of pigs like this preying on the weak and innocent!”

  Madison nodded his understanding. He had absolutely no idea what she might have been subjected to while she was in captivity. He could only imagine what the mental or physical abuse must have been like, and as far as he was concerned, it was perfectly reasonable that she wanted to lash out at someone because of it. He knew from her stories that she had become withdrawn before when she was taunted and shunned as a child, and now it appeared that the pendulum had swung back in the opposite direction, manifesting itself as anger and aggression.

  “I’m ready to be done with this whole place and everyone like him!” Alyanna continued. “The whole slave trade is disgusting. It’s repulsive, and so is everyone involved with it. I don’t know why it’s even tolerated. The whole concept just makes me sick. They trade in people like they’re livestock!”

  “Those are strong words for an ignorant little girl,” a gravelly voice stated from behind.

  Madison had heard someone approaching, but he hadn’t bothered to turn around and check out who it was. Shayna, Erin, and Lord Fox were between him and the speaker, so he had no fear of suddenly being attacked from behind without some sort of notice. He was growing a bit concerned, but only about Alyanna. He wasn’t afraid of her causing a scene—that was basically coming to fruition at this point no matter what—but every time she spoke, he became increasingly worried about what might have happened to her. She had expressed her disdain for the slave trade before, but she was being much more vocal and vehement about it now. If he remembered correctly, she had even previously accepted it as ‘a better alternative than starvation.’

  Alyanna wheeled about, ready to lash into the newcomer verbally as well, but Madison quickly reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could launch into whatever tirade she had planned. She stopped, quickly shutting her open mouth and falling silent.

  “That’s a good girl, then,” the stranger behind continued. “At least he has one of his dogs trained. Now, how about the rest? Are they as housebroken as this one?”

  Alyanna actually surged forward as if she were going to fight him, and Madison was spun about as he held onto her upper arm. He stepped behind her, wrapped his opposite arm across her chest, and pulled her back against him. Not only was she completely pinned against him, but it was a close form of physical contact that she couldn’t ignore as easily as a simple grab of the arm. She stopped fighting, whatever the reason, but he could tell that she was practically bristling with anger.

  “Don’t,” he said quietly, pressing his head down to her ear so that only she could hear him. “You’re going to get your chance to take it out on them, but wait until it’s time.” He picked his voice up then, and said much more loudly, “I think you both seem to have become a bit confused. We’re expected somewhere, so we’ll just be on our way now.” He motioned for the others to move past him so that he could bring up the rear, and once they sidled past, he released Alyanna and gave her a small push in the right direction.

  The greasy-headed slave driver watched them through cupped hands and a bloodied nose as they walked past, but he didn’t do anything other than stare daggers at them. Much to Madison’s chagrin, however, each and every one of the dozen men fell into step behind them, and before they even made it thirty feet, they had a crowd forming in their wake.

  “This isn’t good,” Madison muttered as soon as he realized what was going on. He had just been run through the proverbial ringer with Garin; he had no way to heal himself other than to rely on Erin, who didn’t seem to think that he needed it; and these idiots weren’t going to let it go. He had somehow wounded their sense of pride—a thing that was incredibly hard to believe a slaver even possessed—and they were likely out for some type of demented revenge because of it.

  “I warned you that we should go the other direction,” Fox declared self-righteously. “I knew that you were incapable of pulling off a feat of this level. Next time, you will let me do the talking instead.”

  “No,” Madison answered simply. That was his new favorite way of dealing with Fox—not just because it seemed to work but because it irritated the old man to no end. “Just keep walking. Pick up the pace a little but don’t make it obvious that you’re trying to distance them.” He lengthened his stride a bit in order to accommodate his own wishes, and soon everyone was moving ahead at a brisk walk. Unfortunately, they were also gathering more and more of a crowd. Even before they reached new campsites, people had already filtered out toward the edge of the road in order to find out what was causing all the commotion, and once the small group marched by, he was certain that several joined the gang trailing behind.

  He estimated that they were only about five minutes away from exiting the camp entirely when a large group gathered together to block the road in front of them. Madison sighed heavily when he saw them and unceremoniously brought everyone to a stop. He turned and looked at the group behind and realized that his fears were true: its numbers had increased quickly as they marched through the encampment, swelling to around thirty in number, and each was watching him expectantly. As if by some unspoken rule, as if it was already a foregone conclusion that things were going to come to a violent head, they hefted weapons menacingly.

  The same stranger from before strode forward and called out, “Just leave the women and run. Do that, and you might live through the night.”

  Madison tilted his head back and stared up at the sky, rolling his eyes back into his head. When he looked down again, he realized that everyone in his small group was now watching him expectantly as well. “I’m getting really sick of this shit,” he muttered. “I think I’m beginning to understand why they teach you to be ready for a fight at every moment: some dumbass with a club is always willing to try and take you on for no damn good reason.”

  Shayna nodded. “Really? You think?” It’s about time you figured that out,” she added sarcastically. “So?”

  “So what?” he shot back.

  “So, what are we going to do about these guys?” she asked anxiously.

  “Hey! That’s the princess!” someone in the crowd shouted from behind before he could answer. “I’d recognize that silvery hair anywhere! I thought the pirates were taking her to the goddess!”

  Madison turned and slowly swept his eyes across the crowd. No one had outright said it, but that simple line basically confirmed his suspicions if they hadn’t been already: the goddess who was pulling the strings was the same witch who had banished him to this world.

  “Hey, yeah!” The cry ran through the crowd like wildfire, and what started with a single man shouting quickly echoed back a chorus of repeated exclamations.

  Madison looked at Shayna, over to Alyanna, and then back to Shayna again. He just shrugged and held out his hand. He concentrated on the chest that the dragon had given him, which was still safely tucked away in his own magical locker, and then thought about some type of weapon that Alyanna and Fox could use. A silvery short sword appeared almost immediately as if it had been anticipating his wishes, and an almost identical one followed it as soon as he handed off the first.

  He gla
nced around one last time, taking in the situation. They were basically surrounded on both sides and were stuck in the middle of a somewhat-narrow dirt road. They were hemmed in from the other two directions by well-placed wagons, large tents, and barrels and boxes of goods. It wouldn’t be impossible to escape by going through them, but it wouldn’t come easily—and certainly not with people hounding their heels. The slavers had chosen the spot for the ambush rather well, but it wasn’t going to go the way they planned.

  “Healer in the middle,” Madison said quietly, shifting around to face the group behind him. “Fox and Shayna together to the west. Aly and I will hold here. Don’t give ground, call out if you need healing, and make sure we hear you if you need help. Don’t take the bait if they give you a hole in their line: hold your position. Got it?”

  They turned and stared at him in bewilderment, but they all nodded in agreement.

  “Good,” he answered. Then, turning back to the stranger who had instigated all this, he shouted, “Well? You going to come get them, or are you going to bitch out and send the entire mob to do it for you?”

  “You are really bad at understanding the subtleties of negotiation,” Fox growled. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “No,” Madison answered. Then, on a whim, he grinned and also added, “Who’s negotiating? I’m just trying to bait this asshole into a fight.”

  “You are as barbaric as they are,” Fox said disgustedly and accusingly.

  A lanky man suddenly broke away from the crowd in front of Madison and lobbed something toward them. It sailed through the air, and a glass shattered a few feet in front of him. Madison had no idea what was supposed to happen, but he could smell a slightly bitter odor wafting up from where the bottle had broken. He couldn’t even tell that there was any type of liquid on the ground, but he knew that it must have served some purpose. “What the hell was that?” he asked without turning around. Then, much more loudly and tauntingly, he called out, “You missed!”

  Fox grumbled from behind once again, but two of the girls snickering stopped him from saying anything.

  “Come on,” Madison called out. “That’s it? You guys know who I am, right?”

  “Uhm . . .” Alyanna began from beside him.

  “What are you, idiots?” Madison continued, despite her obvious desire to stop him. He held up his wrist and turned it toward them so that everyone would be able to see it. “How many of you have I killed?” he asked sarcastically. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re all starting to come around now. How many of your brothers have I left in ditches? How many did I burn alive? How many have I turned to food for the crows? Say, what was that fat guy’s name? The one who let me escape after I killed half his men and his brother?”

  The shouting had died down the minute Madison began addressing them in earnest, but the chorus quickly turned into a cacophony at the obvious bait. They knew all too well who he was even if they couldn’t see the tattoo on his skin. They had all heard of him, and they all knew that he was part of the reason that they were out here in the wilderness to begin with. Seeing him next to Alyanna should have been reason enough for them to attack him, but they still hesitated for some reason. It should have been plainly obvious what he was doing, but since the verbal jibes hadn’t worked, he was going to have to spell it out for them.

  Alyanna hissed, trying and failing to get his attention. “What are you—”

  “Don’t you get it?” he shouted, cutting off her plea for his attention. “I’ve kidnapped the princess, I’ve retaken Lord Fox, the goddess is going to be pissed at your incompetence, you’re going to be broke, and you’ll have wasted a month of your lives chasing ghosts through a forest! Holy crap! How stupid are you?”

  Finally, that did it. The tall, lanky man who had thrown the bottle came running in first, and the crowd surged forward after him. It turned out that he actually knew how to use his long legs, and he quickly outdistanced the rest of the pack. Madison hefted his sword in anticipation of his arrival, and a dull glow surrounded his body as he equipped his armor. Erin had chided him enough after walking away from Garin only a short time ago, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

  Madison stepped forward several paces to meet the man before he could actually reach them. His great sword snapped forward in a fast slash, catching the man across the stomach. The slaver’s inertia pulled him forward, and he went tumbling head over heels behind Madison toward Alyanna. Madison knew that he was either dead or dying from the blow, so he didn’t bother turning around to check on him. He lifted his sword and turned to face the next person just in time to stop a cudgel from crashing into the side of his head. Madison turned the crude bludgeon away with his sword and then lashed out with a kick, catching the man squarely in the gut. The man doubled over in pain as the air left him, and Madison hammed his sword hilt down into the back of the man’s head.

  Madison danced away to the left before the body hit the ground, lunging forward with a single-handed thrust. It left him in an awkward, elongated position for a moment, but the tip of his blade just barely nicked the back of someone’s thigh as he tried to rush by. The man careened off to the side at the last moment and went tumbling end over end into one of the barrels of goods. Alyanna dove on him a moment later, driving her sword down into the man’s stomach and ending his life.

  Madison pulled his sword up and turned back to the mob that was now threatening to push in around him in earnest. He slashed the heavy sword out in front of him in order to create some distance, and two people tried to jump back out of his way. While the first one was successful, the second had nowhere to go. His comrades’ were pressed up behind him far too tightly for him to escape, and Madison’s sword raked across his stomach as it had the man earlier. The figure collapsed to his knees clutching the wound, and it wasn’t without an effect on the mob of attackers. Half the crowd ground to a halt, now suddenly wary of Madison’s sword. He had just dropped a handful of bodies in a matter of seconds, and their alcohol-fogged brains were catching on to the fact that this wasn’t going to be an easy fight. The other half to his right, however, didn’t seem to be quick learners. Two men there spilled over into the middle of the road, occupying the now-vacant space, and tried to attack him with short swords.

  Taking advantage of his armor, Madison received the first blow from the man on the left across his vambrace and stepped forward, turning the man’s attack to the side and toward his compatriot on the right. The sword swished out wildly without doing any harm, but Madison was in position to follow it up with an attack of his own. He twisted his body around completely and slammed his elbow back into the face of the man whose sword he had just turned. He felt the cartilage there give way underneath the force of his blow, but it was an awful maneuver that left his back exposed to the crowd—and he paid for his bravado a moment later. There was a loud clang followed by a ringing in his right ear, and he realized that someone had struck him across his back. The armor thankfully absorbed most of the damage, but whatever they had hit him with had been loud enough to partially deafen him.

  He thrust his sword forward with his right hand, a single jab that wasn’t intended to do anything other than remind the man that he was there and create space, and then spun back around while taking several steps back. He effectively gave up the amount of space he had created for himself to work with, space that was necessary in order for him to swing his sword without worrying about Alyanna getting caught in a backswing, but he needed time to clear his head. He shook his head as he moved back, tilting it to the side as if he were trying to get water out of his ear, but it did little to help his hearing.

  The two men he had been engaged with rushed forward at the moment, one only even more infuriated by his broken nose and upper lip, and a third joined them from the left side of the cluster. Madison was suddenly thankful for the somewhat narrow roadway. It was small enough that three men would have trouble attacking at the same time without getting into each other’s way, and th
ey had the extra problem of stepping over corpses that were already piling up on the ground. Unable to ignore the ringing in his ear, he gritted his teeth and slashed out horizontally, once again using the maneuver to keep the two on the right at bay. The man on the left continued forward, however, so Madison lowered his shoulder and leaned into him at the last moment. The large, angular pauldrons on his shoulder crashed into the man’s chest, bringing him to a jarring halt well before he could inflict any actual damage. Alyanna jumped past him then, her sword flickering out quickly and catching the man in the gut. It wasn’t nearly as large a wound as the one Madison would have left, but it was sufficient. She jumped back behind him once again, and Madison turned his attention to the two on the right.

  They finally seemed to realize what everyone else had earlier: this wasn’t going their way. Madison’s sword slashed down vertically between them, forcing one to dodge left into the middle of the road and the other right. The man on the right, who had thus far avoided taking any damage, jumped off the edge of the road and into one of the tents in his haste to get away from Madison, and the man who went left tripped over the man who had just gone down to Alyanna’s sword.

  Madison looked from one to the other and then up at the assembled crowd. “What a bunch of clowns!” he shouted. He stepped forward, shoved his sword into the fallen man’s gut, and then stepped back. Then the crowd rushed forward all at once, finally re-attempting what they had failed to do from the very beginning.

  “Shit,” Madison cursed.

  He stepped forward to meet the closest man on the right, hoping that the pile of bodies in the middle of the road would give him a little room to work with, but he was wrong. His blade swung down in an overhanded attack, catching the man there in the shoulder against the nape of his neck, but he didn’t have enough time to pull it free and reposition again before the others surged around him. A man rushed him from the left, stabbing toward his face with a short, spiked cudgel, and Madison narrowly managed to jerk his head back out of the way in time to avoid losing an eye. He swung out with a left hook while pulling back on his sword with his other hand and caught a glancing blow across the man’s shoulder.