by Rob J. Hayes
Not ten paces and she heard something else; sounded like padded feet moving on leaves. That was all she needed, to be set upon by a pack of wild dogs. What a wonderful end that would make to Jezzet Vel'urn, torn apart by a pack of mongrels, alone in a forest. Not many would weep. Not many would care.
Shit, it could be worse, could be...
“Dangerous place fer a women t' be all alone,” came a voice from somewhere in front of her.
...bandits.
The owner of the voice stepped out from behind a large tree not ten paces ahead, a large grey wolf snarled at her from the man's side. He was tall and skinny, with a distinct unwashed appearance about him; long greasy hair, yellowing teeth, dirty leathers for clothing.
Why do all bandits look the same? Is there some sort of dress code like those fancy balls the blooded folk throw? She'd been to a couple of those balls, turns out she scrubbed up quite well when she bothered to wash, something to do with a pretty face and full figure. Didn't make her any friends among the blooded women though.
There was a rustling of some bushes to Jezzet's left and another man stepped into view and moved to stand next to the first. He grinned a yellow grin at her.
“That dog o' yers a'ways sniffs the bes' fun,” said the second man, as unwashed and uneducated as the first. Not that Jezzet could claim to be the best learned person around, or the cleanest for that matter. Truth was she could have used a bath.
Jezzet sighed. In her experience situations such as these ended one of two ways; fighting or fucking, and if you lost the fight you were going to get fucked anyway. Two on one odds were dangerous no matter what situation you were in. Hell one on one odds were more than dangerous enough as far as Jezzet was concerned.
“Very dangerous place ta be,” the dog man said, licking his cracked lips with a brown tongue.
Think of something smart to say, Jez.
“Do you live near here?”
Yeah, good one. Next ask 'em how they like their eggs cooking.
“She's alone,” came a voice from behind, “checked all round, no one about.” Jezzet craned her head round to look behind her. The man was a huge, bald, black-skinned bear with beady, little eyes. How he'd managed to sneak up on her was beyond her understanding.
Now the odds were three on one, four if you counted the wolf, which she did, and Jezzet liked them not at all. Did she fight and risk dying, or fuck and risk a wounded pride and catching whatever they were carrying. She was half way to dropping her trousers when her right hand found her sword and drew it from its sheath.
“HA!” shouted the second man. “I likes 'em with a bit o' fight, saves me 'aving ta smack 'em ta git 'em movin'”
Well at least I know fighting was the right choice.
“Fight?” The dog man laughed. “Look at 'er, shakin' like week-long drunk.”
He wasn't wrong. The shakes always seemed to come on at the worst possible times.
No chance of bluffing my way out of this now, I guess.
“Could still cut 'er a bit,” said the second man, a nasty gleam in his eyes.
“Say what ya want, Pol,” said the dog man, “I'm first.”
“Ya wen' first las' time,” the second man complained.
“An' I'm goin' first again.”
Jezzet slipped her backpack off and turned her head to look at the giant behind her, hard to keep all three of them in view, at least he was keeping some distance. “You don't wanna wade in? Happy to be sloppy third are you?” she asked him.
“Shut it whore!” the dog man roared at her; seemed he had a temper. “He gets whatever we don't want. You say one more word an' the dog goes first!”
“I'd prefer the dog to you.” Good one, Jez. Real smart.
The dog man roared and started towards her, short sword drawn. He took one meaty swing and Jezzet dodged to the left and thrust with her own slim sword at the same time. The dog man, teetered for a moment and then dropped, dead before he hit the floor. Jezzet's blade had entered his neck and separated his spine from his head.
The dog was the first to react; it bound towards Jezzet and leapt at her, teeth bared and a nasty snarl issuing forth from its snarling maw.
“Shit!” Jezzet squeaked as she leapt left again slashing out with her blade in a wild arc. The dog landed and crumpled among a pile of twigs. She had no idea what part of it she had hit but it must have been vital.
Never fought a dog before... or a bear!
The black giant had closed on her and swung with a heavy fist. Jezzet dodged backwards right into the waiting arms of the second man. His beefy limbs wrapped around her and held her tight, too late she realised that her sword had slipped from her hands and lay at her feet. She hadn't realised how big the man was before, one of his arms wrapped round her whole body with ease.
“Now I git ta go first,” the man said from behind her, his hot, wet breath on her neck, his rancid smell in her nostrils. He took one hand away and reached down in between her body and his. Jezzet heard him fumbling with his belt buckle.
Not a chance!
She flung her head backwards and felt it connect with the man's nose, something warm and wet splashed against her hair but still the man did not let go. She threw her head back again and was rewarded by a crunching noise and freedom. Jezzet didn't wait. She rolled, picked up her sword and thrust. She caught the man in his groin, just below his belt. He roared in pain through his shattered face and thrashed but the next thrust took him through the heart.
The big black giant stared on in shock. Jezzet reached behind her head with one hand and it came back bloody, the second man's face was broken and crushed but the stinging told Jezzet some of the blood was hers.
The giant unhooked a large wooden club from his belt and swished it through the air in a menacing fashion. He had the strength to use it too. One hit from that club and Jezzet knew she'd snap like a twig.
“I suppose fucking is out of the question now?” Jezzet laughed at him.
Yes, taunt the giant why don't you.
“You ain't gotta be live fer it.”
“That's... urgh,” Jezzet said just before the man came at her swinging.
She dropped to the ground, flat on the earth as the blow swung overhead. Then Jezzet pushed with her feet, trying to get behind the giant. Her feet slipped in the leaves and she went no-where. A moment later a heavy boot connected with her stomach and sent her flying. She slashed out with her sword as the force of the kick propelled her before coming to a rolling stop next to the body of the dog man. He smelled just as bad in death as she imagined he had in life.
The giant grinned and took a step forwards, then his leg collapsed as hot, wet blood gushed from a large slash in his thigh. He took less than a minute to die, gasping and screaming right until the end.
A fight, but no fucking today, it seems.
Jezzet wasted no time in searching the bodies. Corpses don't need money or food but she did. It was then she noticed that each man had a red cloth tied around his right arm. They weren't bandits, they were soldiers, or at least as close as it came in these parts.
There's only one place round here soldiers would be headed... Time to go warn him, Jez.
“By I live an' breathe, Jezzet Vel'urn. Reckoned you'd make it at least a week before coming crawling back this time.”
Jezzet stepped through the gateway, glancing at the heavy gate and the soldiers on either side then spat into the dirt, staring a vicious hole through the man in front of her.
Say it quick, get out quicker.
“Save it, Eirik, I'm only here to...”
“Oh of course we can find some use for you, eh, Jez,” Eirik said with a dirty grin. “How about you get yourself up to my rooms, you know the way. Get yourself nice and naked and I'll be up soon to put you to use.”
Not good odds but I could probably kill him before his men beat me senseless... would make this entire journey a waste though.
She heard creaking timbers and turned just in time to see the ga
tes thud shut and the soldiers struggling to lift the heavy wooden cross-bar. Last thing she needed was to be stuck in this shitty little fort.
“Open the gates, Eirik, I'm not staying. Just came to warn you of the impending attack.”
In an instant the grin dropped from his handsome face, replaced by a frown. “Numbers?”
“Don't know, only met scouts, didn't have chance to question them.”
“Too busy killing them no doubt?”
Jezzet didn't respond to the question just stared ahead at the chief of the little fort as he chewed his lip.
“How far out?” he asked.
“Met them 'bout two days back in the woods. Reckon you've got a day at most. Now open the gate, I got no intention of being anywhere near...”
“Oh I can't do that, not with the threat of an attack, eh boys?”
The guards at the gate grunted back and showed no sign of unbarring it. Jezzet glared at Eirik. “I come back to warn you and this is how you repay me?”
“Never asked you to warn me of anything, Jezzet. Never needed warning of owt either.” Eirik strutted around as he talked, flexing his big shoulders underneath his chain-linked armour. “Way I see it; I could use every sword, even yours.”
Jezzet looked around the small square at the gathered soldiers. Twelve of them, all well-armed and well trained and another three hundred or so in the fort all willing to jump to Eirik's command. Not to mention she couldn't lift the bar on the gate by herself, she couldn't lift it with three of her if truth be told.
Shitty odds, Jez.
“You stay, help us fight off this attack, and I'll let you walk out of here, again.” Then Eirik grinned. “In the meantime, we got some spare so you get yourself ready and I'll be with you soon enough.”
Fight or fuck? Sometimes, all too often for Jezzet's liking, she had no choice. She spat into the ground and glared murderous daggers at Eirik as she walked towards the clusters of buildings in the fort, towards his chambers.
Fuck!
The Black Thorn
“What is it?” Green asked and looked at Betrim.
Betrim shrugged and looked at Bones. Bones opened his mouth to speak and shut it again then looked to Swift. Swift sniffed and leered at Henry. Henry spat and walked off while scratching at something behind her ear.
“So?” Green prompted. He was still staring a Betrim, been doing that an awful lot of late, ever since Bones told the little shit that Betrim was the Black Thorn. Made sleeping a whole lot less comfortable. Betrim always slept with one eye open and a hand near a weapon but now he had to sleep with both eyes open.
“How the fuck should I know, Green?” Betrim replied with a shake of his head.
The thing they were all gathered around was huge. Massive grey body, massive grey head, massive mouth with two massive yellow teeth in the lower jaw and lots of little yellow teeth all over the place. It had tiny black eyes set high on its head up from its snout and tiny round ears poking out from its skull. Its legs were short and stumpy and its tail was a thin strip of flesh poking out above its arse. All in all Betrim reckoned it must weigh as much as the entire crew put together and then some.
It looked like a giant grey pig with an oversized mouth had crawled up out of the river and died and it was without a doubt dead. Had the stink of death on it. Flies buzzed all around and settled on the open wound. The dead creature was huge but Betrim didn't even want to know how big the thing had done for it was. Four huge gashes on the creature's belly were deep and showed rotting pink flesh on the insides.
“Reckon it tastes like pig?” Swift wondered aloud. He'd stopped staring after Henry and was looking again at the dead creature.
“Reckon I'm in no hurry ta find out,” Betrim said and walked away.
“You know what it is, Boss?” Green shouted.
“Or what did fer it?” Betrim added.
The Boss didn't so much as look at the creature, just fixed Green with dark eyes in a dark face surrounded by dark hair. “Don't matter what it is,” he said, metal flashing in his mouth every time he spoke. “Don't matter what did fer it. Everyone stay away from the river an' keep movin'.”
The Boss didn't look scared but then Betrim had known the man for near two years now and if he was ever scared he'd never shown it. Betrim remembered their first meeting well. Not many men had the stones to introduce themselves to the Black Thorn the way the Boss had.
Betrim had been sat, nursing his last beer, studying the rest of the folk in the tavern and wondering which of them would be easiest to rob. He'd just about settled on following a couple of scrawny, merchant-looking youths out when they left and this big black bastard sat down at Betrim's table. Not the tallest man he'd ever seen for sure but muscled like someone who was used to swinging something heavy. Betrim had reached for his axe underneath the table, he was well used to folk starting fights with him, came with the name.
“Got an offer fer ya, Black Thorn,” the Boss had said and flashed a grin. It was the metal that had made Betrim listen. He'd heard of men who changed their teeth for metal but he'd never seen it before. Chased all other thoughts away and he'd just sat there staring at those metal teeth for a long time.
When the Boss stopped smiling and started talking again Betrim listened, not saying a word until the Boss had finished. He was amazed was what it was. This big man from the far south with metal teeth had sat down and told Betrim he was putting together a crew of the most cut throat sell-swords he could find and he wanted the Black Thorn on that crew. Made sense, Betrim had one of the blackest names in the wilds and big names always opened up big doors. Betrim had mulled it over for a while and had been about to tell the southerner to piss off when...
“Oi! Thorn.” Henry poked Betrim in the ribs with a bony finger and grinned up at him. “Get back an' fetch Bones will ya.”
Betrim glanced around. Bones was still staring at the dead creature near the river. Everyone else had already moved on and were well ahead. “Aye,” Betrim said with a nod and started back.
“Bones,” Betrim said as he got closer.
“Huh?” the big man responded as he looked away from the dead creature. Betrim nodded his head the way everyone was moving and Bones understood. “Right ya are. Sorry.”
Bones fell into step beside Betrim and, not for the first time, the Black Thorn wondered at the size of the man. Betrim was not short, it had to be said, but Bones towered over him by a good head and that was with that permanent slouch of his. The giant could swing a great-sword round in one hand as if it was a wooden toy and not even the Boss could beat him in an arm wrestle.
Despite his size and strength and the fact that he killed folk for a living Bones was about as gentle as a damned puppy and about as friendly too. He was, in fact, the closest thing to a friend Betrim had ever had. Thorn got on well enough with Henry, that was true, but there was only so close you could be with a woman who had fucked you and then tried to kill you on your first meeting.
“Poor thing,” Bones said from beside Betrim. “Food fer the maggots now I guess.”
“And the lions, or the laughing dogs, vultures or whatever the fuck is in that river.” The Whitewash was big and deep, not as big or deep as the Jorl but big and deep enough to hide all sorts of things underneath its murky, green waters. Betrim didn't like water; rivers, seas, oceans, hell even wells. Never knew what was under water, never knew what might be waiting for you.
They walked in silence for a while a ways back from the others. Up in front Betrim could see Henry's slinking form next to the Boss while Green listened to another of Swift's stories. Always hard to tell with Swift which of his stories were real and which were shit. Betrim tended towards believing none of them.
“Still worried about that Arbiter back in Korral, Thorn?” Bones asked as he put one big foot in front of the other. Most men walked, Bones plodded.
Betrim coughed up some phlegm and spat into the earth. Down in the far south such a waste of water was one of the worst curses a m
an could commit. Up here in the wilds it was just spit. “Always. Man like me always gotta be worried 'bout 'em.” He felt his burn scar tug on his face as he talked, always did when Arbiters were talked about. “Fact is that shit recognised me. Shouted my damned name.”
“We didn't leave no one alive ta tell it though.”
“Left the owner alive didn't we,” Betrim said through gritted teeth. “Shoulda let Henry kill him.”
“He'd never find us out 'ere though.” Bones waved a big hand in a circular motion to indicate the plains.
The rolling plains stretched out in all directions and as far as the eye could see. Long blade grass grew thick, covered the ground in a whispering sea of green that swayed and rippled with the wind. Soon the great herd would move through this province and strip the land bare, turn the green sea into a dusty brown expanse of barren, hilly nothing. When that happened the hunters would be out in force, both animal and human, and Korral would turn into one of the busiest port towns in the wilds.
Fact was tracking people on the plains was simple as pissing. Everywhere you went you left tracks clear as daylight to anyone with eyes to see them and smoke from a fire could be seen for miles upon miles. If the Arbiter had a mind to follow them he could and, if he had a horse, then catch them he would. No point in worrying the giant with such logic though.
“Mm,” Bones grunted and the two went back to silence. Bones had never like silence and Betrim could see it grated on him even now.
“How long till Green turns on you, ya reckon?”
Now there was a thought. The Boss' group had always been six in number and the last three had all tried to kill Betrim at one point or another and had ended up paying for it in blood. Truth was not many who had tried for the Black Thorn lived to talk about. Except Henry but then she was a special case.
“'Bout as long as it takes him ta grow a pair of stones, I reckon,” Betrim said. The thought of sinking his axe into Green's skull brought a smile to his face. After all, the boy had a purse full of bits going to waste.