by K J Taylor
He hefted the spear. ‘Don’t make me use this.’
They hesitated, but only for a moment. ‘Grab him!’ a woman yelled, and all of them rushed him.
Ambit flipped his spear around and smacked his attackers with the butt, knocking several down before someone managed to catch hold of the haft. While he was trying to wrench it free, a big, powerful arm hooked itself around his neck. Ambit struggled, but the arm tightened until it nearly throttled him. The spear dropped out of his grasp, and three different people tried to steal it simultaneously while his captor threw him down and pinned him there with a foot on his throat.
‘All right,’ Northrop said from above. ‘Come quietly and I won’t have to beat you up first.’
‘Where am I meant to come to?’ Ambit managed.
The hero stopped for a moment. ‘Er . . . we’re going to lock you up, and you’re going to tell us what you know. Come on,’ he waved to a couple of strong men. ‘Find some ropes and tie him up. He’s going to pay for what those demons did.’
Ambit groaned as they dragged him upright. ‘Well, this isn’t good.’
‘You’re right. It isn’t,’ said Northrop, pulling his hand back to hit Ambit across the face.
In the moment before the man’s palm caught him on the cheek, time seemed to slow, and, before everything flashed red, Ambit caught a glimpse of something that seemed to imprint itself across his mind: the briefest vision of Northrop’s palm and the faint shape of the silver bellflower birthmark standing out against the skin.
Six
There was no sign of Snarl anywhere. Ambit’s captors had dragged him back to the pub and into the cellar, where they tied him to a chair and locked the door on him.
Ambit spent some time trying to clean the blood off his face by awkwardly rubbing it on his sleeve, and then, once his head felt clearer, had a go at escaping. He tried to wriggle out of the ropes around his wrists, but they were around his waist and ankles as well, and all he managed to do was tip the chair over and bash his head on a wine barrel in the process. He lay on his side, cheek ground into the dirt, and indulged in a little swearing. They’d taken his spear off him as well. Any moment now someone, probably Northrop, was going to come rushing in and say something like –
The door burst open, and the hero’s voice shouted, ‘Where did you get this?’
‘Right on cue,’ Ambit mumbled through a mouthful of dirt.
Northrop dragged the chair upright and brandished Ambit’s spear in his face. Sure enough, the leather wrappings had been taken off and the decorations and the holes for the gemstones he had been supposed to take from the demon lords were on full display.
‘Where did you get this?’
Ambit shook his head dazedly. ‘Stop shouting at me. I already had a hangover and now I’ve got the other kind of head trauma as well.’
Northrop slapped him again. ‘Answer me! Who did you take this spear from?’
‘Dunno,’ said Ambit. ‘Some jerk who reminded me of you. Now untie me and give it back.’
‘You stole it?’ said Northrop.
‘Yeah, so what?’ said Ambit. ‘It’s just a spear.’
Northrop held up his hand, displaying the silver bellflower mark. ‘Did he have a mark like this?’
Ambit peered at it. The flower’s spread petals made it look like a star, and the whole thing had a silvery, shimmery colour to it. It looked a lot like the one he had had, but smaller and without the faint gold edging.
‘Something like that,’ he said eventually. ‘Friend of yours, was he?’
Northrop stood back, shaking his head in bewilderment. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘What, having a lame-o birthmark like that stops people like me from getting you drunk and taking your stuff?’ said Ambit.
The hero wasn’t listening. ‘After all this time. Someone found the Chosen One, and what did they do? They stole the sacred spear from him.’
‘Easy come, easy go,’ said Ambit. ‘Can I go now?’
Northrop glared at him. ‘You’re an agent for the demons, aren’t you? They sent you to find the Chosen One. And then you came here looking for me. Were you going to steal my sword? Or kill me? What did you do with the Chosen One?’
‘Robbed him and left him in a ditch somewhere up near Snowapple,’ Ambit said promptly. ‘Anyway, you’ve got that stupid mark as well. How do you know you’re not the Chosen One?’
Northrop hesitated, passing the spear from hand to hand before he apparently decided to answer. ‘The Chosen One was never meant to stop the demons alone,’ he said. ‘I was meant to help him, and so are the others.’
‘Others?’ said Ambit.
‘The Chosen One is meant to travel to the Nine Mountains, and along the way he will find eight faithful companions to fight alongside him,’ Northrop recited. ‘Eight brave warriors, each one sharing a smaller version of the mark of the silver bellflower.’
‘Oh, come on,’ said Ambit.
‘There were nine sacred weapons, forged long ago by the great hero, the ancestor of the Chosen One,’ Northrop continued. ‘His name was Afterman, and he made the nine weapons with the power to kill demons. Each weapon was different, but all of them were indestructible.’
Ambit bit his tongue, and listened.
‘The nine weapons were lost, spread through the Land of Flowers, but each one would come into the hands of its rightful owner one day. And Afterman kept the greatest of them, the Demonslayer Spear, to pass to his descendants ready for the day when his family gave birth to the Chosen One who would wield it.’
Ambit rolled his eyes. ‘Is there a point to any of this?’
‘When I was young I came into possession of this sword,’ said Northrop, indicating the weapon strapped to his back. ‘And I’ve been waiting here, honing my skills, ready for the day when the Chosen One came to find me.’
‘You know, everyone’s very passive about this Chosen One shit,’ said Ambit. ‘I mean, were you actually planning to do anything except sit on your arse waiting for him to show up? Hell, the only person I’ve met who was actually doing anything about it was the princess, and she’s a whiny spoilt brat with a voice that could curdle milk.’
‘And now the demons have her, thanks to you,’ said Northrop. Story time appeared to be over now, and the hero smoothly flipped straight back over into angry and threatening mode. He jabbed the spear at Ambit. ‘You told them she was here, didn’t you? You lured her here. You and that little demon. And you told them about me as well, you weaselly bastard. Didn’t you?’
‘Uh, I think the demons knew you were here because you kept going into their country and killing them because you could,’ said Ambit. ‘I mean, that’s what they told me, and frankly I’m not having any trouble believing it. You’re lucky they didn’t decide to burn the place to the ground and kill everyone you care about.’
‘Then how did they know about the princess?’ Northrop demanded.
‘No idea,’ said Ambit. ‘I didn’t tell ’em. I was here all night, screwing her multicoloured brains out. Trust me, you do not want to hear that woman have an orgasm.’
Northrop slapped him again. ‘You bastard.’
Ambit winced. ‘That’s me. The one and only, but I didn’t tell the demons about her.’
‘You brought the princess here and ran away as soon as the demons came,’ Northrop went on. ‘You’re working for them. How could you? Betraying your own kind to them? You don’t deserve to be called human.’
‘Whatever,’ said Ambit. ‘I’m not in the mood for talking and the princess is being hauled off as we speak, so you’d better make your mind up. Let me go and I’ll be on my way, and you can go play hero to your heart’s content. Right now, I’m just holding you up.’
Northrop lifted his hand to slap him yet again, but then stopped and moved back. He paced back and forth for a little while, and then turned to face his prisoner again. ‘What about that demon you were with?’
‘What about her?’ said Ambit.
‘So it’s a she,’ said Northrop. ‘Who is she? You’re working together, aren’t you? She’s your contact with the demons.’
‘No, she’s just my friend,’ said Ambit. ‘Where is she, anyway?’
‘Friend?’ Northrop repeated as if he’d never heard the word before.
‘Yeah, as in “person you hang out with”,’ said Ambit. ‘Fuck knows she’s been better at sticking around than most human beings I’ve met. Where did she go?’
‘Your so-called “friend” ran away after her kind,’ said Northrop. ‘Now listen,’ he added slowly, ‘I have no doubt at all that you’re guilty –’
‘So much for trial by jury,’ Ambit muttered.
‘– but I won’t stoop to torturing another human being,’ said Northrop. ‘Not even a sorry excuse for one like you.’
‘Great,’ said Ambit. ‘So?’
‘So, I think I have a better idea,’ said Northrop.
Ambit watched him. ‘I really don’t like the look of that gleam in your eye,’ he said.
‘You shouldn’t,’ said Northrop, sounding just slightly triumphant. ‘You’re going to help us, and after that I’ll be leaving and the villagers can decide what to do with you. If you’re lucky they might put you to work in the fields. If not . . . well, you’ll just have to wait and see.’
‘Oh, goody,’ said Ambit.
Demon country at night was quite an interesting sight. Demons didn’t use lanterns, or need any kind of light source; they could see perfectly well in the dark, even without the faint lava glow a healthy demon body gave off. It meant that demon territory went very dark at night, but it wasn’t completely dark.
Snarl crouched by the shelter of a rock formation and looked up at the sky. A field of stars outlined the jagged landscape around her, silvery-grey against black stone. Here and there, an orange glow showed through the blackness, marking places where the earth had cracked. Steam drifted into the sky, just visible against the full moon.
Snarl liked it here and wished she could stay. She hated human country; all that greenery, and the sickly smell of flowers. Here, where the earth was bare and stony and the lava pools bubbled up out of the crevices, was the place she belonged. There was good stone to eat, and the air smelt clean and fresh. There were no humans here to avoid, and there were even other demons around if she wanted to talk to anyone. She usually didn’t, though; Snarl had never been very sociable, not even with other demons. The only person she liked to be around was Ambit. And now she’d lost him again. The demons who had captured the princess were long gone by now, and Snarl was alone.
She crunched on a tasty chunk of sapphire and wondered what to do. She hadn’t stopped to see Ambit’s capture, but she knew the other humans had him. And now they must be making all kinds of accusations – after all, they’d seen her talking to him. They might even think he’d had something to do with the princess being captured. Ambit certainly wouldn’t do anything to make them like him. He’d be rude and sarcastic to them, and just get himself into even worse trouble. She’d seen it happen before, plenty of times. The only question was what they’d do with him. They might even decide to kill him.
Snarl sighed and stood up. She didn’t want to do this, but she didn’t have a choice. Ambit wasn’t going to rescue himself, and the sooner they were both out of the area, the better.
She turned her back on demon country and waddled back toward Daisyfield. She noticed there was plenty of lighting as she got closer to the village itself. It made her suspicious at first, but when she came close enough she saw that the lanterns hanging in the trees were being used to throw light on the buildings damaged in the attack. Humans were at work fixing them; she could smell the crude iron of the nails they were hammering into fresh wooden planks. What a waste of time. Anyone with a brain would know a good cave or a burrow was the best place to live.
Never mind. At least the humans would be too busy to notice her.
Snarl snuck around the edges of the village until she found a darker area, outside the worksite. She entered from there and waddled toward the main square, making for another patch of light. But this one showed her Ambit, gagged and tied to a chair in the middle of the village. There was no-one else in sight.
Snarl pulled up short, peering around for any sign of guards, but didn’t see anything. She was about to come out of the shadows when she saw movement, and stopped just in time to see a big, strong human with a shiny sword – the same one who had captured Ambit. He walked past, looking around carefully, stopped to check on Ambit, and then disappeared again.
Snarl waited, and after a while he came back and did the same thing. Patrolling, she realised. She would have to run out and untie Ambit in the gap while the guard was out of sight.
First she waited, silently counting down the time between the guard’s appearances. She needed to know how long she would have. She wouldn’t need much time, since her double-pointed claws could burn through solid wood. The ropes holding Ambit would come apart in seconds.
Once she was satisfied that the ‘safe’ periods were long enough for her to do what she had to, she waited for the next one and then ran toward Ambit. He saw her and started to try and speak through the gag, wide-eyed.
‘Shut up,’ Snarl hissed, and slashed through the ropes on his ankles.
Ambit jerked a leg at her. ‘Mmnph,’ he said urgently.
Snarl ran behind the chair and cut the ropes on his wrists. ‘I said shut up.’
She reared up to deal with the ropes on her friend’s waist, and then felt the freezing, sickening splash of water. It hit her on the back and spread over her whole body, hardening her skin and solidifying the lava blood in her veins. She shrieked and fell forward, dragging the ropes down after herself.
A second bucket of water poured over her head, and she howled in pain.
Ambit had ripped the gag off, and started trying to untie himself. ‘Leave her alone!’
Northrop threw the bucket aside and kicked the chair over. Three of his friends had already come running, and they levered Snarl up with sticks and tied her up, wrapping her in strips of wet leather that strapped her legs to her belly and tail. She bit at them, but they only stuffed her into a leather sack full of wet sand and tied it shut around her neck.
‘Let me go!’ Snarl screamed. The wet sand grinding into her rocky flesh was agony.
Northrop pressed the point of Ambit’s spear into her snout. ‘You’re coming with me, demon,’ he said.
On the ground, Ambit felt the ropes around his waist come loose. He wriggled free, got up and hurled himself at Northrop. One of the hero’s friends shouted a warning, and Northrop turned and knocked Ambit down with the butt of his own spear. Ambit fell with a yelp of surprised pain, and the three villagers grabbed him by the elbows and held him still.
Northrop had already packed a bag. He picked it up and slung it on his back, stuffed Ambit’s spear through one of the straps, and then picked up Snarl. ‘Thank you for the help, Ambit,’ he said, ‘and don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your little friend here. You three – lock him up. The village elders can decide what to do with him in the morning.’
‘I’ll get you for this,’ said Ambit. ‘Oh shit, did I just say that?’
Nobody was listening anyway. Northrop’s three burly friends dragged him back to the cellar, where he spent the night alternately swearing and trying to bite the nearest barrel of wine open. Neither one did any good.
Morning came, and Ambit woke up with a headache again, which was almost enough to make him believe yesterday had been a dream. But this time when he rolled over, he found himself lying next to a dead rat instead of a snoring, but still very attractive, rainbow princess. He stayed there for a while, contemplating the dead rat.
‘Buddy, you look as bad as I feel,’ he said. ‘Crushed head and everything.’
The rat, of course, said nothing.
Ambit had been tied up again, though not to a chair this time. He managed to get up after a few fa
lse starts, and sat with his back to a barrel. What was the point, he wondered, of being surrounded by booze if you couldn’t drink any of it? This was so unfair.
Still, at least the next order of business was clear. Step one: escape, and hopefully take the opportunity to kick a few groins along the way. Step two: go after Northrop and get Snarl and the spear back. Multiple kicks to the groin would be compulsory during step two, provided he was the one delivering them, which he would be. Someone like Northrop would be far too noble to stick a boot in someone else’s testicles. Ambit, on the other hand, would happily kick Northrop’s into a fine paste.
He sat and contemplated that until his headache faded and he felt ready to stand up. His ankles hadn’t been tied this time, so he hauled himself onto a barrel and slowly and laboriously worked his wrists around under his backside and legs until they were in front of him. That made walking a lot easier, and he hopped down off the barrel and went to look for something he could use to cut the ropes. He didn’t find anything, so he sat down again, sighed, and started to work at the knots with his teeth.
To his surprise, it worked. These people clearly weren’t trained guards or anything, and they definitely weren’t experts on tying people up. Ambit managed to loosen the knots after a long and tedious struggle, and by the time someone came to the door he had just managed to untie the last one. He quickly pushed the loose ends of the rope into his hands and held them there while he waited for whoever was about to come in.
The door opened, and a nervous but angry-looking man appeared. ‘You’re awake,’ he said. ‘Good.’
‘What’s up, village goon?’ said Ambit, doing his best to look harmless.
‘Don’t give me that smart talk. It’s not going to work on me,’ said the man. ‘Thanks to you, half our village is in ruins.’
‘Pardon me while I cry a single shiny tear of remorse,’ said Ambit. ‘Are you going to let me go now?’