Black Cross

by J. P. Ashman

  Coppin tensed, her eyes welling despite her attempts to stay strong.

  ‘You didn’t think you’d walk out of here did you, whore? You’re evil, bred for nothing but dark deeds; I cannot allow you to walk free.’

  Coppin struggled against the ropes binding her wrists. The Grand Inquisitor smiled wickedly as he stood back and watched.

  ‘Bastard,’ she said finally, stopping struggling and looking him in the eye. ‘Nothing but a cowardly, fat bastard—’

  The rod struck her across the side of the head and she fell sideways onto the desk. Her vision blurred slightly before the throbbing pain kicked in.

  ‘Any more, witch? I want you to talk, but not if you have nothing of use to say to me, and not until I ask a question, understand?’

  Coppin tried to move, to sit back up, but with her hands behind her back she struggled.

  ‘Answer me!’ he shouted, his reddened face inches from hers.

  ‘I understand,’ she whispered.

  ‘Louder, whore.’

  ‘I understand!’ she shouted, bursting into tears.

  ‘Tears? Weak child, I had thought you would fight the questioning, put up an interesting struggle. Alas, perhaps I was wrong.’

  Coppin felt his hands on her then as he pulled her roughly round onto her stomach, her feet dropping down to the cold floor. Still crying, her mind racing for any way for it not to happen, her head banging where he’d struck her and her eyes now tightly closed, she tried to think of a better place as the Grand Inquisitor pulled her robe up high and proceeded to cane her with his wooden rod.

  She fought not to cry out as the pain worsened with every blow. Instead, she continued to cry quietly, but as he hit her again and again, she eventually cried out despite her best efforts not to.

  ‘You think that hurts, witch? How do you think your wicked ways hurt the good people of Wesson when you bewitch and ensnare them? I will show you such pain girl, and then so shall my inquisitors when I am done.’

  Coppin cried all the more at the sound of him unbuckling his belt, and when the Grand Inquisitor took the buckled end of that belt to her back, she screamed; all the more when he forced himself into her.

  She wished she was a witch then, a powerful one, so she could curse the man that was surely more evil than anything else in Brisance, and after the things she’d experienced at Mother’s, that was saying something indeed.

  ‘I hope ye… rot in yer own… piss and shit, ye… fat… fucking… bastard!’ she shouted, as he pounded against her, whipping her all the while. She blocked out the chanting that came in between his gasping breaths and concentrated now on the pain, holding onto it and wishing for a way to turn that pain back upon him.

  Chapter 29: Smoke

  On the western horizon, a column of thick, black smoke rose lazily into the partially clouded sky. As the sun reached its zenith, skylarks sang and butterflies twirled above the slightly swaying, golden crop of wheat below.

  Correia dropped back as the rest of the group pushed on through the field to the east. She stood, staring back at the black smoke, her hands resting comfortably on the hilts of her swords as they hung at her sides.

  Turning to see why Correia had stopped, Gleave called for the rest of the group to halt.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Starks asked as he brushed his hands across the tops of the wheat.

  ‘Smoke,’ Fal replied, ‘and I don’t think Correia likes whatever’s caused it so neither do I.’

  Errolas set out for Correia then and Fal followed, holding his hand up to stay the others, who turned separate directions to scan the undulating horizon around them.

  Correia met Errolas and Fal half way, and with Starks chatting to the others a little way away, she explained her fears.

  ‘Warning signal,’ she said, as she pointed back to the black smoke.

  Fal’s hand moved instinctively to his sword. ‘From who?’

  ‘Hinton,’ Errolas said, looking to Correia for confirmation, ‘the innkeeper and his wife?’

  Correia nodded. ‘That puts whoever’s following us about half a day behind, at most.’ Her eyes flicked to the horizon behind them. ‘Assuming they aren’t on horses. We’ve set a good pace since Hinton, but it’s all for naught if they’re mounted. I planned on us picking up horses at a village not far from here, but we may be caught before then if we don’t find anywhere closer.’

  ‘Leave that to me,’ Errolas said, as he rooted in a soft pouch on his belt. He pulled out what looked like a short section of a very thin water reed, lifted it to his mouth and blew through it gently. Correia and Fal looked at each other in confusion as the reed made no sound. That confusion intensified as the sudden lack of bird song became apparent.

  Sav held his hand up and Starks stopped talking. They all looked around then, expecting an attack due to the sudden silence. They moved to draw their weapons until Fal waved to them that all was well. The four men frowned but obeyed, although they kept their hands on their weapons just in case.

  Errolas blew again on the whistle that seemed to make no noise at all. This time however, a tiny bird appeared in the distance, bobbing through the sky towards them. Errolas grinned and held his hand up to receive the tiny wren, which flitted in and landed on his index finger. It bobbed its upturned tail as its head turned from side to side to take in the trio.

  Correia and Fal exchanged surprised glances and looked back at the little wren, which looked up into Errolas’ eyes. The elf lifted the whistle to his mouth again and blew a number of short silent notes in a sequence the wren seemed to understand. It jumped into the air and flew a short way to his shoulder before leaning into his ear, chittering ever so quietly.

  Errolas’ eyes widened. He nodded gently before smiling and replying with the whistle.

  The wren, without warning, took to the sky and flew off in the direction of the smoke, until the speck that was the bird disappeared into the distance.

  ‘Well?’ Correia asked.

  Fal managed to close his mouth before Errolas explained.

  ‘Jenny there, the wren that is, told me there is a column of humans about half a mile to the south east. She said they have horses—‘

  ‘Wait… Jenny?’ Correia looked at Errolas sceptically. ‘You mean to say that bird is called Jenny and she told you all of that? I know elves have powers, but that all seems a bit… never mind, who am I to question it if it gets us moving.’

  Errolas smiled. ‘She said the column is heading north towards a small village. The one you were thinking of?’

  Correia nodded.

  ‘If we hurry we could rendezvous with them,’ Fal said quickly.

  ‘Hopefully,’ Errolas replied, ‘and with Spymaster Burr with us, acquiring mounts for the rest of the journey shouldn’t be a problem.’ Errolas looked across to the forward group, all of whom were staring back. It was clear they wanted to know what was going on.

  ‘Your confidence in me is flattering, elf. Now let’s move on.’

  Errolas smiled again and motioned for Fal to return to the others, and so he did, with Errolas and Correia in tow.

  ‘Oh I sent Jenny back to see who is following us,’ Errolas said as they reached the others. ‘It might take her some time to pass the message back to us, but it is better to know eventually than not at all.’

  Gleave looked back past the trio. ‘Who’s Jenny?’

  Correia rolled her eyes. ‘You don’t want to know, Gleave, you really don’t. Now come on, there’s a column of…’ Correia paused and looked to Errolas, ‘of what Errolas? Troops maybe, a caravan?’

  The elf shrugged. ‘Humans.’

  Correia sighed and looked back to the others. ‘A column of people with horses, and if we want to mount up and make haste, we need move now.’ Correia squeezed past the group of men and began pushing ahead through the wheat as fast as she could without breaking into a run.

  The rest of the group looked to Fal, who shook his head and shrugged, before pushing past and following the Sp
ymaster’s lead. As he strode on, Fal couldn’t help but laugh as he wondered why Errolas hadn’t called upon a falcon, pigeon or even a duck. ’Morl’s balls, elf, anything would’ve been faster than a wren?

  Errolas motioned for the rest of them to follow Correia and Fal. ‘Keep your eyes peeled, gentlemen, and be on your guard. It seems we are being followed.’

  Despite their curiosity, the remaining men set out without question.

  The group pushed on across the fields for a while longer, until they saw a tall windmill on top of a hill to the east.

  ‘Make for that,’ Mearson said, pointing to the crooked structure. ‘It’ll be next to a road.’

  The group set out towards the windmill without question.

  ***

  The spiral staircase favoured the defenders as the shield-bearing cathedral guards took blow after blow whilst hacking back down at the two city guardsmen trying to assault their position.

  Sears parried one overhead blow from an arming sword as he managed to thrust his short-sword past the shield and across the unprotected shin of its bearer.

  The man cursed as he fell back, lowering his shield to protect himself and leaving the man next to him exposed.

  Biviano darted past Sears and hacked downwards, breaking the toes of the exposed man’s left foot with his now blunted blade.

  Falling down besides the first guard, the second was swiftly dispatched by Sears, whilst Biviano fended off the desperate attacks from the prone shield bearer.

  ‘Hold them off!’ Biviano shouted, as the three guards left standing surged down the stone steps towards the duo. ‘Think of… those raped… and tortured… kiddies, Sears,’ he added between lunges, slashes and parries.

  Sears roared and so did the flames that engulfed the three guards above him. They screamed as they thrashed about, the iron links of their maille hauberks welding to their skin since the woollen gambesons beneath had already burnt away in the intense heat. It wasn’t long until they dropped to the steps, their blackened forms crumbling as Sears ran through them, scattering their smoking armour and weapons down the stairs.

  Biviano had finished the shield bearer the moment Sears had unleashed hell, and so he followed his friend onwards and upwards.

  Reaching the top step, Sears looked left then right, down corridors that looked identical. ‘Which way?’

  ‘Left.’ Biviano pushed past and headed that way, blunt sword leading.

  ‘How’d ye know?’ Sears shouted from behind, as he chased the smaller man.

  ‘I don’t, I guessed.’

  ‘I’m in no mood for ye to piss me off.’

  Biviano halted then and held up his hand. Sears stopped behind him and whispered between heaving breaths. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A scream, a girl’s scream.’

  ‘I don’t hear anything,’ Sears said, moving to push past Biviano, who held one side of his kettle-helm up, tilting his head to listen. He waved his sword in front of Sears to stop him passing. Sears punched him in the arm and Biviano almost dropped to one knee, biting back a curse as a woman screamed further down the corridor.

  ‘I heard it,’ Sears said. ‘Came from inside a room, I swear it.’

  Arm throbbing, Biviano took off again, heading further down the dark corridor until he came to a studded door.

  Sears caught him up and moved to the far side of the door. He looked his friend in the eyes.

  Biviano stared back at Sears and was thankful to see his friend’s eyes were still glowing, if only faintly.

  The muffled voice on the other side of the door sounded like a man’s then, followed by a woman cursing.

  ‘She’ll end up like the others,’ Biviano whispered.

  Sears’ eyes flashed so bright Biviano had to look away. Before he could look back, Sears threw him across the floor, turned and kicked once, smashing the heavy door from its hinges.

  Another scream, this time a man’s although it wasn’t dissimilar to the first.

  Biviano surged to his feet and tried to follow Sears through the door. He didn’t notice the large man swiftly approaching him from behind until the smell of urine hit him, but by then it was too late.

  ‘Help!’ Coppin had bindings around her wrists that had been looped over a hook on the wall. Hanging naked, a patchwork of bruises and bloody welts criss-crossed her back. She desperately tried to spin to take in the scene behind her, but the movements proved incredibly painful.

  A knife came round and pulled tight against her throat then, breaking the delicate skin slightly as it did so. She held her breath and closed her eyes tight, ready for the end.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ the Grand Inquisitor said. He held his knife to the green haired girl’s throat whilst looking towards the approaching guardsman.

  Sears hesitated, his heart pounded and his entire body shook with fury.

  Biviano breathed hard as he walked slowly into the room, a small but sharp eating knife held across his throat.

  ‘All of ye stay still,’ Longoss said as he turned the man in front of him to face the others in the room.

  Biviano shook his head slightly as Sears’ eyes flared, and despite his rage, the big man managed to calm himself, knowing no good would come from rash actions or rage.

  Everyone in the room, bar Coppin who couldn’t, looked from man to man, with the further exception of Biviano, who looked from Sears to the Grand Inquisitor and back, several times.

  A pause followed, as everyone tried to work out what was going on and how best to proceed.

  Sears clenched his fist with one hand and squeezed the hilt of his sword with the other. He clenched his teeth and breathed slowly, trying to hold the rage inside him. It was rare his birthright would present itself and he was rarely able to control its manifestation when it did. He usually had Biviano for that, but in a situation like this, staying in control was proving harder than ever.

  ‘What’s up wi’ his eyes?’ Longoss asked, and the Grand Inquisitor flinched then as he too noticed the burning embers of Sears’ eyes for the first time.

  ‘Long story,’ Biviano said, the knife grazing his throat slightly as he did so. ‘Ye’d be wise to drop the knives, both of ye, before we all go up in flames.’

  ‘Longoss?’ Coppin managed, the sound of his voice familiar to her.

  ‘Aye lass, long time no see. Ye’ve looked better.’

  ‘Cheers,’ she said sarcastically, resulting in the Grand Inquisitor tightening his grip on her.

  ‘Quiet! All of you!’ he shouted, his reddened face screwing up in disgust. ‘A witch and a demon in my own chamber… what evil is this? What scheme to overthrow me?’

  ‘I’m here for the girl, nothing more,’ Longoss said, nodding towards Coppin. ‘Elleth sent me to get ye out.’

  Coppin’s eyes welled up then as she thought of Elleth and what the poor girl must have been through since she bled. ‘Is she well?’

  ‘I said quiet!’ the Grand Inquisitor shouted. He pulled the knife away as he turned and struck her with the back of his hand.

  Biviano took the opportunity and nodded to his friend, despite the knife’s bite.

  Sears threw himself at the Grand Inquisitor, who managed to dive out of the way just in time.

  Realising in an instant the two city guardsmen were no threat to Coppin, Longoss threw Biviano to the ground and jumped over him, making for Coppin’s bindings with his knife.

  The Grand Inquisitor scrambled to his feet around the back of his desk and ran for the door. Sears pulled himself up and followed.

  Biviano had just managed to stand when the Grand Inquisitor barrelled him over and ran from the room. Sears stopped and pulled his friend to his feet at the sound of multiple boots approaching, followed by shouted orders from the Grand Inquisitor.

  ‘Help us,’ Longoss said, from the corner of the room. He’d cut Coppin down and wrapped her in a hug, covering her naked form.

  ‘We need to chase that bastard down.’ Biviano looked from the man who’d held a
knife to his throat, to the girl and then to Sears’ settling eyes. The big man shook his head and nodded to the couple in the corner.

  Sighing hard, but nodding, Biviano turned to them. ‘Throw something on her. We’re getting her out of here.’

  Coppin broke down with relief as Longoss pulled her across the room to where a brown robe lay on the floor. He lifted it over her head and she let him, hardly able to contain her gratitude for the rescue he’d performed, and for what reason? He was a selfish, viscous bastard as far as the stories Mother and the other girls had told her, but somehow, Elleth had managed to persuade him to come here and get her out. Before she could hold back the sobbing long enough to thank him, Longoss pulled her across the room by her arm, which caused the woollen robes to scratch painfully across her damaged skin.

  ‘Stay behind us,’ Biviano said, ‘and when we get outta here, I wanna know who the hell ye both are and what’s goin on. Agreed?’

  Longoss flashed his gold teeth and Coppin nodded.

  ‘Alright, Sears, time to light the bastards up!’

  Sears nodded once and moved to the door, but not before all in the room saw his eyes burn bright.

  ***

  Old blades creaked as the wind turned them in a slow arc and the gears inside crunched as the mill stone ground the windmill’s contents. Starks screwed his face up as he reached the open door of the mill. ‘Another foul smell, and I thought Wesson was bad.’

  ‘Horse fat, lad,’ Gleave said. ‘They use it to lubricate the gears and it smells like they’ve been mixing some recently.’

  ‘No one about though.’ Mearson had popped inside to check.

  The column of smoke was still visible in the distance from the hill where the windmill stood, but only just. A rough, beaten cart track wound away down the hill through the wheat fields, running from north to south.