***
Ashlyn could see Lucan was getting discouraged. The Silver Swords had turned him down flat and the Wolves had made fun of him and sent him away with no small amount of ridicule. She was glad none of the companies would take him, but she was also troubled by the fact it hurt his feelings so much. “You can try the Scarred Serpents?” she said sarcastically.
Lucan pursed his lips to the side. “Very funny, I don’t really want a snake burned onto my face.”
“Well, there is just the one left then. You said you heard they were a new company. You should try there.”
Lucan put his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet. “I don’t know, maybe. I just really don’t want to hear anymore jests at my expense.”
She rubbed his back and laid her head against his. “You never know, Lucan, this might be the one.”
“I guess you're right, I should at least try,” Lucan said, giving her a bitter smile.
The trouble was, Ashlyn did know. No one was going to take her skinny beau. Lucan wasn’t a warrior, he had been made for her to hug and kiss. Someday maybe even more, but for now, he had a job and it was to make her happy. He just needed to get this foolish idea of leaving Gallio out of his head and realize what was important.
Lucan looked at the last barracks and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I’ll check here. It’s getting late. If you want to go on home, I won’t be mad.”
He didn’t want her there to see him fail again, or hear this band make fun of him like the Wolves had, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Lucan was sweet and sensitive and after this bunch turned him down, he would need her. “No, my love, I’ll stay. I can use the fresh air.”
“Whatever you want to do, Ash, suit yourself.”
Lucan’s shoulders were slumped and he was dragging his feet as they approached the last barracks on the street. Ashlyn hoped this wouldn’t take long. She wanted to get back to the circus early, as she had three shows to do tomorrow and she would need her rest.
There were a few men standing outside talking, and she gave Lucan a gentle push towards them. Lucan hesitantly stepped forward and tapped the shoulder of the first man he came to.
The mercenary wore a light wool cloak and Ashlyn could see the smoke from a pipe rising into the night air. The man, black and widely built, turned and faced Lucan. He had a shaved head and kind eyes. Under the cloak, he wore a sleeveless chainmail shirt and carried a very wide broadsword. He removed the pipe from his mouth and looked thoughtfully at Lucan. “Can I help you, boy?” he asked in a deep voice with a strange, heavy accent.
“I wanted to talk to someone about joining your company,” Lucan mumbled.
The man took a long pull from his pipe. “I see. Well, our captain is gone right now, but you can wait if you wish.”
Before Lucan could reply, a man dressed in a black and silver brocade coat and a wide- brimmed hat folded up on one side in the style of the Celonian duelists stepped in front of the black man. He had short dark hair and his mustache was heavily waxed with a small goatee protruding from his chin. Ashlyn would have thought him a noble dandy except for the heavy rapier hanging at his side. “Pay no attention to this savage, my boy. He has only recently given in to bathing and eating cooked meat. I am Pierre Lanthier. The captain put me in charge till he returns.”
The black man grinned wickedly as he gently pushed the Celonian out of his way, “He did not put you in charge of anything, peacock, except maybe buggering boys.”
The Celonian shook his head. “Adisa is little better than an animal, you will have to excuse his lack of understanding. The captain implied I was in charge. It was a subtle order, but it was very clear to me that he desired I take command while he was away.”
“Just because you dress like a woman doesn’t mean the captain desired you to do anything, Celonian pig,” the black man said, blowing smoke in Pierre’s face.
Ashlyn put her hand over her mouth. She thought the two men might try to kill each other at any moment, but the other mercenaries were all laughing at their barrage of insults.
A young man stepped between the two arguing warriors. He looked little older than Lucan, was clean shaven, and, Ashlyn thought, very attractive. He had kind eyes and his light brown hair was tied back, revealing a feminine face. “Pay no attention to these two. If you can wait, Captain Strom should be back very soon. He is who you need to speak with.”
“Thank you,” Lucan said, nodding to the young man.
The man called Pierre scoffed. “Upton, I will handle this. You and Adisa are junior members of this company. You both would do well to remember that.”
Adisa laughed deeply. “When did you come up with that? I have never heard of junior members. Don’t listen to him, Upton, that Celonian songbird has been drinking and the wine has gone to his fat head.”
The girlish-faced sellsword smiled and it gave Ashlyn a chill. It was pretty and wicked at the same time. “It’s not the wine, Adisa. It’s just that his whore of a mother never taught him proper manners.”
The Celonian’s hand fell to the hilt of his rapier. “What’s that, boy? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Upton looked at his fellow mercenary’s hand resting on the hilt of his rapier. “Sometimes men can die in their sleep, my well-dressed friend,” Upton whispered almost lovingly.
The sweetness of the threat made Ashlyn believe this Upton would slit the Celonian’s throat without reservation.
“You should be careful who you want to take to task, brother,” Adisa said, his rich smile disappearing as he stepped up beside Pierre. “If you kill the peacock, you make sure you kill me too, but I warn you, I am a light sleeper.”
Upton smiled and nodded his understanding. Ashlyn had thought Adisa and Pierre to be enemies by the way they had been insulting each other, but when Upton threated the Celonian, the black man had come instantly to his defense. She could not fathom why Lucan would want to join these strange and violent men.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Everyone outside turned and looked as a handful of men came slowly down the dark street towards them.
“That is the captain, boy,” Adisa whispered to Lucan.
The mercenary commander walked down the street as if he were a king, powerfully built with a gaze that exuded authority. He had short dark hair and a beard. There was something else Ashlyn noticed about this captain: he had the eyes of a killer.
She had seen it many times on many faces in the Wheel. Captain Strom was a dangerous man and she didn’t think she liked him.
The entire demeanor of the men changed as their officers returned. It wasn’t hard to see why. The captain and the men with him looked fierce; one was nearly seven feet tall and looked more muscular than Felos the Strong Man at the circus. Ashlyn was relieved to see they had two women with them. It made her feel better to not be the only female in this den of lions.
“We were just talking about who should handle this young man, Captain,” Upton said, pointing to Lucan. “He wants to join up.”
The two women and the other officers who had arrived with the captain ignored the situation and went into the barracks, except for the big man. He followed the captain over to where Lucan and Ashlyn stood.
“I am Captain K’xarr Strom, this is Cromwell, and you are?”
“Lucan,” the young man stammered.
“Lucan what?”
“Just Lucan, sir.”
“What about you,” he said, pointing to Ashlyn.
“I am the Falcon,” she said, proudly using her stage name.
The big man laughed loudly. “That is truly an imposing name for a little girl like you.” He looked her and Lucan over, grinning as if he found them terribly humorous. “She is the one armed, K’xarr. Who is the warrior here, the little girl or you, boy?”
Lucan’s face turned red and he froze, not knowing what to say to the imposing man.
“I am a performer in Ergan’s Amazing Circus. I carry the weapons for my own protection. I’m by no
means a warrior. My real name is Ashlyn Sweet and I don’t mean to be rude, but Lucan asked for a job. Will you give him one or not?”
She wanted this over, these men were dangerous and they made her nervous. Ashlyn wanted nothing more than to be away from them as soon as possible.
Captain Strom looked at Lucan. Ashlyn could tell he was appraising him. “You don’t look too strong, but I have seen good men with not much more meat on their bones than you. I will give you a chance, see if you have any potential.
“Come here, Beck,” the captain said, motioning to one of the mercenaries standing around the barracks doorway. The man had long, greasy brown hair and was missing several teeth. “Give the boy a try.”
The man called Beck drew a saber and dagger, taking a fighting stance.
“Do you have a sword, Lucan?” the captain asked.
Lucan shook his head, staring like a wounded animal at the man waiting to test his skill.
“He came here for a job, not to fight,” Ashlyn said. She could see Lucan was afraid of the killer standing in front of him and so was she. The situation had gotten away from her in the blink of an eye.
“Does she speak for you, boy? If so, take your girl and leave,” the big man said mockingly.
“I speak for myself, just give me a sword.”
They had hurt Lucan’s pride. Ashlyn knew the stable boy wouldn’t turn back now.
“Tench, loan the lad your sword,” the captain ordered. A mercenary with a wide head and large ears stepped forward and handed Lucan a heavy broadsword.
“Begin,” Strom commanded.
The man called Beck moved fast, his saber lashing out and making a small cut on Lucan’s chin. Ashlyn held her breath as Lucan stumbled backwards. It didn’t take long to see that Beck could kill the stable boy any time he wished. Lucan tried to defend himself, but it was clear he had no idea how to go about it. It was obvious even to her that Beck’s halfhearted attacks were more than Lucan could handle. She wondered why someone wasn’t stopping this ridiculous test.
Ashlyn looked to the captain to see if he was going to end this farce before Lucan was hurt, but she found that Captain Strom was watching her. He didn’t seem interested in the fight at all. “Captain, haven’t you seen enough?” she called out, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.
Captain Strom just shook his head, his eyes flat and emotionlessly.
Beck delivered a heavy overhand blow that knocked Lucan to the ground. The mercenary stood over him like a mad dog, and raised his sword as if to strike a final blow.
Ashlyn set her jaw, drawing her shortsword and hand ax. She rushed the warrior with every intention of killing him if she had to. She wasn’t going to stand by and watch them murder Lucan.
Beck got his saber up just in time to block a nasty blow from her sword. He returned a cut towards the young woman’s head.
Ashlyn vaulted backward, flipping into the air and landing several feet from the mercenary. Beck’s eyes were protruding from his head and his nostril flared with anger at the girl’s ability to thwart his attack.
He followed her, thrusting his saber low at her gut. Ashlyn cartwheeled away from the blow. Coming to her feet, she threw her hand ax and hit the mercenary’s sword out of his hand. She quickly followed the throw, summersaulting forward. She slid between his legs and placed her shortsword on his groin.
Beck sneered, switching his dagger to his right hand, and looked to his captain.
“Enough. Beck, pick up you sword, and young lady, kindly remove your sword from his crotch.” Both obeyed.
Ashlyn ran over to where Lucan lay. “Are you injured?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“You are magnificent,” the young man said, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time.
Ashlyn smiled as she pulled him to his feet. She took a deep curtsying bow just like she did on stage. “Not bad for my first duel. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little cut on the chin.”
Ashlyn turned to the captain. “I’m so sorry. I thought your man was going to kill Lucan. I didn’t mean to interfere with the…audition. Thank you for your time, we’ll be leaving now.”
K’xarr folded his arms across his chest. “Why? I thought the boy wanted a job with us.”
“I do,” Lucan said, surprised.
“Well then, why are you leaving? I do see a little potential in you, Lucan. With some training, you will make a fine addition to the company.”
Lucan swallowed hard. “So I’m in?”
“For now. I will take you on temporarily and see how things go. If everything works out here in Masaria, then I will make you a full brother.”
Lucan’s smile faded and his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “I would rather not fight for Malric. He and his Wardogs are a plague on the city. Can I join after you’re finished here?”
The captain glanced at Cromwell then back to the young man. “If you’re going to join us, you’re going to join now. We are paid to fight, not to judge the morality or politics of a war. And you would do well to remember this: you fight for me, not Malric or anyone else. You’re going to war because I order it. Your loyalty is to your captain and your sword-brothers above anything or anyone, understand?”
Lucan gave the captain an inspired look. “I do, Captain Strom.”
“Then give me your answer now. Are you in or out?”
“I’m in, Captain,” Lucan said with pride.
K’xarr clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. You can find yourself a place in the barracks when you’re ready.”
The captain glanced at Ashlyn. “What about you, girl? You seem able to handle yourself.”
She stared at the mercenary commander a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. She was still trying to reason out what had just occured. Had they all gone insane?
“Did you hear me, woman?”
“I have a job at the circus,” she stammered.
“Well, that is a shame. Lucan, we will speak further in the morning.” The captain turned and walked into the barracks followed by the rest of the mercenaries.
Ashlyn stood in disbelief, unable to sort out what had happened.
***
Once inside, Cromwell grabbed K’xarr by the arm. “By Fane’s beard, you know that boy is no warrior, never will be. He fought like a frightened child. He will never be able to ride with us.”
K’xarr pulled his arm away and started for his bunk. “I know that.”
“Then why did you take him on?”
“I want the girl.”
Cromwell nodded. “I thought as much. She has the skill, but she is no killer.”
“I want her. Given time, she would be an asset to the company.”
Cromwell folded his arms across his massive chest. “She said she had a job in the circus. So this time you won’t get what you want.”
K’xarr adjusted the small bandage on his hand. “She loves him, I could see it in her eyes while he fought. If the boy joins, the girl will follow. Watch and see.”
“The boy will die the first time he sees battle, you know that?”
K’xarr looked Cromwell in the eye. “Yes, it will be Lucan’s contribution to the company.”
“K’xarr, sometimes you are a black-hearted bastard. You know what that will do to the girl.”
The captain gave a somber nod. “It will make her a killer.”
***
“Lucan, please don’t do this,” Ashlyn pleaded.
The stable boy looked at her as if she had gone mad. “What? Are you kidding? Now we can both get out of the Wheel and see the world. We can make a life for ourselves, Ash. It’s what we have always dreamed of. Let’s go in and talk to some of the other men, we can go pick our things up in the morning.” He turned and started for the barracks.
“If you join them, I won’t come with you.” She hadn’t meant to say it so harshly, but there it was.
Lucan gave her a dreadful look. The pain in his eyes
hurt her heart. “You promised me, Ash, you said you would come.”
“I won’t watch you die, Lucan, I can’t. You're no warrior. You’re a gentle man that works in a stable and I love you. Please don’t do this.”
“Why are you afraid? The captain said I had potential. You heard him yourself. I will be a warrior, Ash, just watch and see. I’m not just some stable hand, no matter what you think. I’m going in. Are you coming or not?”
She shook her head.
His mouth became an angry slit, but his eyes were wet. He grasped the handle of the door, glancing once more over his shoulder to see if she was coming before he stepped in.
After the door closed, she stood and stared at the barracks awhile, tears slowly running down her cheeks. Then the Falcon pulled her cloak tightly around her slim body and began the long walk back home.
“General Kattan, we have visitors,” Gladwin said, sticking his head into the general’s tent.
“Who?” the general asked, grimacing at the interruption.
“Alfred Benington, the Fist of the Hand of God, and Lord Justice Dracen Milara, one of the Eyes of God. They are escorting a prisoner back to Asqutania. It’s unbelievable that those two are here. Whoever they have captured must be of extreme importance to the papacy.”
Kago looked back down at the small table in his tent. He had just started studying the map rolled out on it and didn’t want to deal with priests now. He had a war to plan. “Why do I care about this? Give them what they need and send them on their way.”
The young officer rolled his eyes. “Sir, you know they are very powerful men in the Church and have the ear of the pope. You should at least greet them in person and offer them our hospitality for the night.”
“I have better things to do than play host to a couple of the pope’s lackeys,” the general said without looking up from the map.
Gladwin let out a big breath. “May I remind you, General, it was the pope that gave you this command. I’m sure he would insist you be courteous to his ministers.”
Kago hated to admit it, but Gladwin was right. The self-righteous priests of the Church thrived on etiquette and proper decorum. He had seen men stripped of their rank for slighting a church official. He would have to play their foolish game if he wanted to keep the pope’s army riding behind him. “Very well, I will see them,” Kago said rubbing his eyes.
Song Of Fury (Gods Of Blood And Fire Book 2) Page 13