by Rob J. Hayes
“Ya killed him?” This came from Henry.
“Didn't have much of a choice. One day group came round, armed an' mounted. They killed the owner an' then chucked a sword down between me an' Jehry an' said, 'We don't need two giants'. Jehry got ta the sword first but he weren't never as big or strong as me so I took it an' took my first bone. After that I rode with them fer a while 'till the Hangman caught 'em.”
“Hangman Yril?” Henry asked.
“Aye, chased us half way across the wilds the ol' bastard.”
“How did ya escape?”
“Didn't. He never caught me. Was off takin' a shit when he came on our camp. Heard the commotion an' laid low. After, when I stole back into camp ta see if my stuff were still there I found the whole gang swingin' from ropes. He hung 'em all.”
“Never been so glad of a man dyin' as when I heard the Hangman had been done in by the rot. Bounty hunters is near as bad as witch hunters,” Henry said.
“He weren't so bad,” Bones said with a smile. “Met him a year later in Korral. Near pissed myself but he had no idea who I was. Bought me a drink.”
“You could have gone back though,” Thanquil suggested. “Back to your old village.”
Bones laughed. “There is no going back, Arbiter. Not fer folk like us, not in the wilds. Once ya part of the game, the game's a part of you.”
“With all those people you burned, never killed an innocent one, witch hunter?” Henry asked.
Thanquil remembered the body of a boy with a hole in his head lying amongst rotted, splintered wood, he remembered the blood seeping into the soiled reeds on the floor, and he remembered Jezzet Vel'urn standing in front of him naked as a babe. “Aye, I've killed innocents before.”
Henry spat, there was something vicious and cruel about her. “See, ya no better than us.”
“Never claimed to be. I’m just better spoken.”
“Words? Words is jus' air, don't matter how they spoken.”
Thanquil smiled at Henry, she scowled back. “Words have power with the proper application and how they're spoken is the key.”
“Would words save ya if I leapt at ya with a knife?”
“With the right words... they might.”
“If they didn't, I would,” Jezzet said, her voice as dark and dangerous as her eyes.
“An' who are you anyway?” Henry returned the dark eyes. “Black Thorn says ya good but all I see is a scared little girl in bed with a witch hunter.” She was speaking loud enough to draw attention now but more eyes rested on Thanquil and his coat than the small woman with murder in her eyes.
“Henry...” Bones started.
“Shut it, Bones
“The Boss said...”
Henry rocketed to her feet, her chair clattering to the floor, and she spat at Jezzet. The Blademaster made no attempt to move and the spittle hit her in the face. She pushed herself to her feet, her right hand resting on the hilt of her sword. For somewhere close to a lifetime Henry and Jezzet stared at each other across the table. Then Bones stood up, towering over all of them.
“The Boss said we're all together in this, her included. He ain't gonna be pleased if you two start killin' each other.”
“Boss is off sticking his cock in some poxy whore, what the fuck do I care if he's pleased.” With that Henry turned and stalked away, men twice as large as her parting to let her through.
Jezzet sat back down, wiping the spittle from her face. Bones collapsed back into his chair, Thanquil was amazed the small wooden structure didn't collapse under the weight.
The regular sounds of the common room resumed and Thanquil leaned over and picked up the fallen chair. Bones swallowed the rest of his mug of beer and motioned for the serving girl to bring him another, Jezzet also requested another. Thanquil could see her hand was shaking, just like his did when he hadn't stolen anything for a while.
“Sorry 'bout Henry,” Bones was saying, “she's... well... Henry.”
“She doesn't seem to like me much,” Jezzet said as she paid the serving girl for her beer.
“She jus' don't like not bein' the prettiest of the crew no more,” Bones said with a smile and Jez smiled back. “Just don't go tellin' my wife I called ya pretty. She'd have my stones off 'fore I could say sorry.”
After that Jezzet and Bones traded a few stories. Each told the other of the big names they had met and the big names they had killed. Jezzet seemed to come out on top of that contest. Bones always mentioned one crew or another he had served with. Thanquil kept himself quiet for the most part, more than content to listen.
When the big southerner they called the Boss arrived he sank down into Henry's empty chair, took a large swig of beer and commenced scowling. “Where is she?”
Bones winced. “She um... left.”
“Why?”
“Well the last thing she said had somethin' ta do with you an' whores.”
“Fuck. Well we best jus' hope she don't go murderin' anyone.” The big southerner looked tired and more than a little angry.
“We are moving towards H'ost, I hope. I seem to remember someone saying something about west and we seem to have moved somewhat east,” Thanquil said.
The Boss nodded. “Some roads are longer than others. This one happens ta be safer, 'specially with the company we keep. Reckon it's about time Jezzet Vel'urn told us what she knows 'bout H'ost.”
Jezzet's eyes flicked up to the Boss and then across to Thanquil. The Boss continued speaking. “Aye, seems there's some folk heard of you after all. An' they reckon ya might know a bit more 'an nothin'. Some say you worked fer H'ost, some say you crewed with Deadeye.
“Now from the way you drew steel when I said we were workin' fer her, I know ya got some sort o' involvement. Reckon it's 'bout time ya told us a tale, 'fore the others get back'd probably be best fer ya.”
“Can't lie ta an Arbiter,” Bones pitched in.
Jezzet looked at Thanquil and then away. “It was me gave Constance her deadeye.”
“Aye,” the Boss said after a mouthful of beer. “That much I know already. Did in her sister too, the one they called the Bloody Angel. Were you workin' fer H'ost or not?”
“Aye. A few years ago when I'd just come to the wilds I was in Solantis.”
“A woman alone in Solantis is like ta end up a woman raped an' dead in Solantis.”
“Maybe, but a woman who can use a sword in Solantis is like to end up very wealthy... for a time at least.
“Catherine, Constance's sister, saw me in the fighting pits. She was there gathering sell-swords, wanted to raise a new merc company and make a name for herself. She hired me on as a second bodyguard. She called us the Angel's Blades. You can imagine the talk I'm sure. A merc company led by three women. Constance was as big as a bear and stronger than most men; me, a Blademaster; and Catherine was as good with a map as she was with a sword.”
“But not as good as you,” the Boss put in.
“Not with a sword, no. The other companies laughed but those who worked for her were fiercely loyal. She soon made that name for herself at Feville.”
“You were the ones that sacked Feville?”
Jezzet nodded.
“Is it true what ya did there?” Bones asked.
Again Jezzet nodded. “We'd been paid to take the city. The contract was not specific as to how and their walls were fairly high. We arrived during the day when many and more of the town's people were out farming and working and such. Catherine took them prisoner, all of them, including the magistrate's daughter. Two hundred and eight townsfolk in all.
“When the rest of the company had arrived she set up the siege and met with the magistrate. Told him no one had to die, no one even need get hurt. All he needed to do was open the gates and give command of the town over to us. The magistrate told her to piss off so Catherine had his daughter staked out in front of the town and gave the men free use of her. For three days and nights all you could hear was that bloody girl screaming and crying.
; “Eventually one of the men took pity and slit the girl's throat. Catherine had him hanged for it. After that she had three prisoners a day brought out in front of the town's walls and had a two teams of horses pull them apart. Twelve people we killed like that before the gates came open and the magistrate was marched out in chains.
“Catherine ordered the town sacked, its garrison executed to a man. After that they started calling her the Bloody Angel. Prettiest woman I've ever seen but so much blood on her hands.”
“You didn't do much ta stop it yaself,” the Boss put in.
“No. I didn't.” Jezzet said, her face and eyes as hard as stone. “H'ost bought our contract soon after. He never was much one for military matters so he gave full command of his forces to Catherine. Our company was absorbed by H'ost's larger force.”
“That doesn't tell us much about H'ost,” Thanquil said.
“I really don't know that much. Only met him a few times and two of those he was in his cups. He's mad though. All the blooded families dream of reclaiming the wilds into the empire it once was but H'ost... he believes it, and he believes he's the man to do it.”
“That it?” the Boss asked. “Nothing else?”
“Well he really doesn't like me,” Jezzet added. “Not since I cost him the lands around Longwater. Or not since I won them for D'roan more like.”
“Well that's good at least,” said Bones with an easy grin. All eyes turned to him. “Well I mean you're less like to betray us given that he hates you.”
The Black Thorn
Rose was breathing heavy, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. Even though he only just had her and even though that was the third time, Betrim wanted her again already.
He made a clumsy grab for one of her breasts with his five fingered hand but she swatted it away. Then she leaned over and plucked a bottle from the table beside the bed, uncorked it and took a long, deep swallow of the sweet, amber mead inside.
“Open,” she said with a smile on her lips and a brighter smile in her eyes. Betrim opened his mouth and she poured mead down his throat. Her aim was perfect.
“So, reckon I'm worth double?” Rose asked her voice playful but not mocking.
Betrim had never been too good with women, something to do with being ugly even before the scars and the burn, but here with his cock still inside this one he was feeling romantic. “For you I'd gladly pay triple.”
Rose gasped. “You do spoil me.” She took another mouthful of mead and then poured more into his mouth. “You'll run out of those lovely silver bits if you pay triple.”
“Don't reckon it matters,” Betrim rasped, “after this job I'll either be rich or dead. Might as well spend the bits while I can an' there ain't nothin' I'd rather spend 'em on right now than you.”
“Rich or dead?” Rose said her voice all innocent. “I do hope it's rich. Then you can come back here and pay me triple again and I can do this again. She wriggled atop of him then filled her mouth with mead and leaned down to kiss him. The honey liquid flowed into his mouth, flowed down his chin, flowed everywhere but he didn't care a bit.
The door to the room flew open with a bang. “Thorn,” a familiar voice said but Betrim's head couldn't be arsed figuring out who it belonged to. “Rose...” the voice continued with a smile. Betrim wasn't sure how a voice could smile but then he realised it belonged to Swift.
Rose sat up, still naked, still sat atop Betrim, still with him inside of her. Golden mead ran down her chin and dripped onto her breasts. Betrim wanted her again right there and he didn't care that Swift was watching.
“Brother, you know I'm not allowed to do you, mother says it's wrong,” Rose's voice was as honeyed as the mead but ten times as sweet. A sulky pout played on her full red lips.
“If only, little sister. But I'm here fer him,” Swift sounded urgent.
Rose looked at Swift all innocent and sweet, and then looked at Betrim with wicked mischief in her eyes. “By the feel of him I think he prefers women, brother.”
Betrim grunted and ran his hands up her legs towards her arse. “Piss off, Swift. We're busy.”
“Fuck this,” Swift said and in three long strides he was beside the bed. He grabbed Rose by the shoulders and pulled her off Betrim, off the bed. Then there was a knife at Swift's throat and another one at Rose's. Betrim couldn't quite figure out where Rose's knife had come from given that she was stark naked.
“Put it down, little sister. We don't have time fer this.” Swift glanced down at Betrim still sprawling naked on the bed. “Huh. No wonder she likes you.”
“We're busy, Swift,” Betrim said again, picking up the forgotten mead and taking a good long drink. “Piss off.”
“Your pretty little friend, Jezzet, is down stairs, Thorn. Boss sent her. It's time ta go.”
“Fuck that. He said two days an' I ain't out of bits yet.”
Rose smiled a sweet smile. “Reckon he's got at least another few rides in that purse.”
Swift removed his knife from her throat and she did the same. “Bounty hunters are here, looking fer us. Four o' them an' led by Big Mouth Cal.”
“Bollocks,” Betrim said and swung his legs off the bed already looking for his leathers. “They after us?”
“Unless another group of murderous bastards have come into town an' they also happened ta have killed one of the Chade council. Yes.”
“Two.”
“What?”
“Two,” Betrim repeated. “We only killed the one but two are dead an' ya can bet they'll be blamin' us.”
“Blamin' you,” Swift said scowling. “You're the one made himself known. Now get the fuck dressed an' let’s go. Rose.” Swift kissed his sister, his sister kissed him back, and then he turned and left.
As Betrim finished dressing Rose looked at his purse, still on the table, and then at him. She was still naked and still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. “Keep it all,” Betrim heard himself say. “But if I survive an' come back, next ones on the house.”
“Not a chance,” she said grinning. He made to kiss her but she stepped back out of his reach. Her eyes were flat, dark, emotionless pools.
Betrim turned and fled the room.
The Arbiter
Thanquil ducked another slash and then threw himself to his left just in time to dodge the jab from behind. Truth was without his constant chanting of the blessing of speed making his reaction times that little bit quicker, making his muscles move just that little bit faster, he would have been dead ten times over already.
Again the swords came at him. The first he blocked with his own and then pushed into the man with his blessed strength. Blessings of speed and strength were easy to combine but using two blessings at once was a quick way to tire yourself. The man stepped aside and Thanquil felt a sting on his right arm. He stumbled away a few steps and glanced at the pain; a new cut had appeared in his coat and a shallow wound had been opened up below. Three small cuts now and all of them hurt like hell. He couldn't help but feel the men were toying with him.
The truth was Thanquil's already quite meagre skill with a sword had gone to rust of late. Ignoring his small scuffle with the Black Thorn back in Chade it had been well over a year since Thanquil had last truly swung a sword and he wagered it showed.
One of his assailants was stony eyed and flat mouthed but the other was sporting a cruel grin. The Stoneface lurched towards him a step, raising his sword and then stepped away. A feint. The Grinner was there on Thanquil's right and he rained down blow after blow with his dark grey long sword. Thanquil caught and turned each blow but by then he had lost sight of Stoneface, the man could be anywhere. The Grinner's small, round shield rushed forwards and caught Thanquil in the chest sending him rolling over and over in the dust of the road.
“'Bout time ya used some o' that magic, Arbiter,” the Boss shouted.
Thanquil coughed up some dust and looked around, searched for his opponents. Both Stoneface and the Grinner were standing together, watching him
, waiting. “Thank you for the advice, Boss,” Thanquil shouted back.
The big, black southerner had his own problems. A large youth with a heavy iron bound staff seemed to be giving him no end of trouble. Thanquil could only wish they hadn't sent Jezzet to warn the Black Thorn and Swift. He had no doubt she'd have more than evened the odds but there was one bounty hunter missing and the Boss had decided he couldn't risk the man had gone after Thorn.
“Can't ya turn 'em all inta frogs or somin'?” the Boss shouted as he span away from an attack. The youth with the staff had the range advantage and one good crack from that heavy wooden weapon would break bones like they were twigs. The Boss held a short sword and a hand axe but was finding it hard to get close enough to use them.
“Of course.”
“Well go on then.”
Thanquil let out a groan and shook his head. He could run, with a blessing of speed his assailants would never catch him, if only he could find the whore house he'd find Jezzet and her sword. Of course it would mean leaving the Boss with three angry bounty hunters and Thanquil was certain only the stern presence of the southerner was keeping his crew together. Besides, running to the nearest whore house screaming for help from Jezzet did not seem like the manliest of tactics and for some reason Thanquil found that mattered.
Stoneface smiled, his mouth stretching from ear to place where his ear should have been. His mouth was so large it made his face seem queer given his tiny, button nose. “Black Thorn,” he said with his giant mouth.
“Big Mouth.” The growl came from behind Thanquil but he refused to turn and look.
“Been a while, Black Thorn.”
“Not long enough, Big Mouth.”
“Been looking forward ta' killing you,” Big Mouth and his companion seemed to have forgotten Thanquil for now, all their attention on the Black Thorn.
“As well look forward ta ya own grave, Big Mouth. Not that I'll be diggin' ya one.”
“Thorn, help the Arbiter. Ooof.” The Boss took a heavy blow from the staff in his mid-section and stumbled away coughing. The youth gave him no respite but followed up with more merciless blows.