by Jon Kiln
“I can do that so you can sit and rest,” Nisero offered.
“I’ve been sitting all day.”
“You know what I mean, Arianne. Just sit down and rest. If you insist on coming along on this adventure, take care of yourself so that I can tell Berengar I took care of you, at least.”
“If I sit down, I’ll have trouble standing back up,” she contended.
“I’ll help you up.”
She moved to the other side of the animal and began brushing down its haunches. “I’m almost done. If you are worried about my condition, stop engaging me in pointless arguments.”
“The gods help your husband through this time,” Nisero said, exasperated.
“You better watch your tongue. You might be delving into more than you are prepared to handle.”
He pulled out a brush and began working down his mount as well. “I’m almost certain that I am.”
“Maybe that is the real reason my husband is away on his mission,” she said, “to get away from his argumentative, pregnant wife. Do you think so, lieutenant?”
“I have no opinion on that subject.” He pulled down the hood from his cloak and continued brushing.
She finished with her horse and moved to the other side of Nisero’s to brush the animal with him. The horse snorted and went back to drinking as Arianne’s mount started pulling up grass and chewing.
Arianne dropped the brush and sat down against the saddle on the ground. Nisero saw her struggle to get back to a reclined position. Her face was red and splotchy by the time she achieved it.
He dropped his brush and reclined on the saddle next to hers. Arianne twisted to reach for something on the other side of the saddlebag. She gritted her teeth and let out a haggard breath. “Oh, I was more nimble in the saddle. Sitting on the ground is not ideal for women with child. Would you be so kind as to retrieve the waterskin.”
Nisero sat up and leaned over. “Of course.”
The short blade of the dagger hooked underneath Nisero’s chin and rested dangerously against his Adam’s apple. He could smell the sweat off the man’s hand and the bite of the sharp edge. Nisero froze in place at an awkward angle. He fought the urge to swallow with the blade flush to his throat the way it was.
He saw Arianne’s eyes go wide. “Nisero,” she breathed.
A harsh voice behind them growled out. “Don’t move. I know who you are.”
Arianna stammered out. “He… He is my husband Dreth. We are on a journey to see… to see my sick father.”
“Shut up or I will slice open your belly for your lies,” the man snarled. “He is coming with me back to the capital alive and bound or sliced and drained dry like a prize hog. Either way gets me paid. Alive pays more, so let’s plan on that for both our sakes. Move your hands behind your back and hold your wrists together, criminal.”
“You have us confused with someone else,” Arianne maintained. “Please.”
“Silence your mouth, you lying wench, or I will put a rag in it. Now put your hands behind your back, traitor, or I-.”
Nisero grabbed the wrist of the man with both his hands and held the blade in place instead of pulling it away. Trying to remove the blade would draw the sharp edge along his neck and do the work of the bounty hunter for him. Nisero pushed off with his feet and flipped over backward into the man’s arm and body.
As the man grunted in surprise, Nisero’s weight came down on the man’s back and head with the arm twisted up around Nisero’s side. He felt the shoulder socket of the man’s knife arm crack and shift unnaturally under him. The fingers folded open and the dagger fell away to the ground.
Nisero rolled and twisted around still holding the man’s arm, driving the break further. He let out a shrill scream and bucked up, giving Nisero his back.
“He’s going for the knife!” Arianne warned.
As Nisero clutched the man’s broken arm and shoulder at an impossible angle behind his back, the man clawed at the ground beyond Nisero’s saddle with his good hand to try to retrieve the hilt of his dagger.
Nisero wrapped his arm around under the man’s chin and bent his arm at the elbow, contracting the man’s airway and the arteries on both side of his neck. The man had a long, black beard that bunched up around Nisero’s arm as he choked the bounty hunter.
The man still fought and reached for the dagger. Nisero locked the hand of his choke arm over the bicep of his other arm. He then hooked his other hand around the back of the man’s skull and pushed his head down into the choke. Nisero constricted and flexed, tightening his grip.
The man brought his hand back from trying for the dagger and pulled at the triangle of Nisero’s arms trying to break the choke, but failed. Nisero leaned back, pulling the man to the ground on top of him as he squeezed tighter.
The man tried to claw at Nisero’s face, but the lieutenant turned his head to guard his eyes. The man then tried to drive his head back to headbutt Nisero’s nose, but Nisero held him around the head and throat controlling his movement and prevented the attack.
“Snap his neck and let’s away before someone finds us,” Arianne said in a panic.
The man squirmed in response to Arianne’s threat. He hissed and spittle spewed out over his lips, beard, and Nisero’s forearm. The fight began to drain out of him as he was robbed of air.
The man went limp in Nisero’s grip and he held tight for a few moments longer to be sure he was really out and it wasn’t a ploy.
“Finish him off, Nisero.”
Nisero rolled the bounty hunter’s unconscious body onto his belly in the grass before he got up. Nisero lumbered up to his feet as the horses raised their heads and stared.
Arianne looked at the man on the ground with fear. “Nisero, are you going to let him live?”
“He was following the law. We’ll be away before he awakes.”
“He was following the law threatening to cut open my belly and put something in my mouth to silence me?” she asked. “This does not seem to be a law worth defending.”
“Fair enough,” Nisero conceded. “Maybe he does deserve to die and I have broken his shoulder for his threats, but it will be far easier to defend my innocence for murder, if I actually refrain from murdering.”
Nisero hauled his saddle and bags up onto his horse and strapped it in place. The animal snorted and tugged against Nisero’s efforts, but he patted its side and calmed it.
He took Arianne’s hands and brought her up slowly to her feet again.
“Are you good to ride, Arianne?”
“I will be fine.” She brought her fingers up to his throat and touched two spots that stung, making him hiss. “You are cut.”
He pulled away and felt the spots himself. “How bad is it?”
“They look like nicks.” She took a cloth from Nisero’s saddlebags and dabbed at the cuts. “It could have been much worse.”
“I’ll be fine.” He stepped away and took her saddle to prepare her horse to ride.
As he strapped the saddle in place, she said, “You need to let me put water on it to treat it.”
“I’ll be fine. We just need to get away.” He turned away from her horse and smiled. “But we need to not look like we are fleeing. We need to flee casually. You understand?”
“Nisero, please, let me take care of you.”
He felt a dry twinge in his throat that had nothing to do with the cuts. He swallowed several times. “If we are going to say I am your husband Dreth, you’ll need to stop calling me by my real name.”
Arianne sighed. “As you wish, husband.”
Nisero swallowed again. “Let me help you up.”
She mounted the horse without his assistance and he climbed on his horse next to her. He stole a glance back at the man on the ground before they retook the trail and rode away.
They passed other riders that gave nods or hails as they went. The other riders seemed to pay attention to Arianne’s condition still, but Nisero swore they were studying his face as they pa
ssed. It could have all been in his head or they might have been wondering what sort of man would be riding on any journey with a pregnant woman on horseback.
It occurred to Nisero that he might have taken her by wagon to spare her the roughness of the ride, although she seemed uncomfortable and uneasy while reclining. He did not know much about pregnant women and their needs. He supposed his paranoia over thinking the travelers were staring at him was from the heightened energy of having fought for his life, and less connected to the reality of any recognition on their part.
He drew the strings on the tie of his cloak tighter and up over his throat to hide the dark scars still caked with dried blood on his throat.
He thought about the travelers coming across the injured man in the clearing or on the road. He would be awake again unless Nisero had crushed the man’s throat, which was a risk. If common bandits came upon him while he was still down or struggling along with his broken shoulder, they might beat him further or finish killing him for his dagger and whatever coin he carried. It would essentially be the same as if Nisero had straight out killed the man himself.
If the bounty hunter claimed to be waylaid by the criminal, traitor, murderer, former Lieutenant Nisero, they might turn back to run him down with Arianne as good citizens would. They might alert the closest authorities and send them racing after Nisero with an accurate description and the correct route.
“Should we leave this road?” Arianne pulled Nisero up out of his thoughts.
“I do not know what roads we can and can’t take,” he said.
Arianne took a moment to consider their options. “We can move along the spur ahead of us here. It will take us wider and farther out from the main villages and travel arteries. It will be a bit longer, but we are less likely to be seen by anyone that will care who wants you or for what.”
Nisero stared at the fork ahead and the more narrow spur that Arianne was suggesting. “How likely are we to come across someone that wishes us harm regardless of who we might be?”
“That I can’t answer, but I know we have come across one such man on the main road, so there is that to consider… husband.”
Nisero chewed at his lip. He thought that a bounty hunter seeking out a warrant on a wanted criminal was not quite the same as a purposeless bandit. One man overestimating his ability to bring in a bounty was a bit different from a group of desperate killers and thieves looking to rape, murder, and steal. The army had not done a sufficient job of clearing the kingdom of such threats.
He decided not to address any of these issues with her as there was not much to be said on the subjects. He had two paths in the woods with unknown dangers ahead on each. He had to make a choice on what he did know from the poor choices at hand. That form of decision was not new to him by any stretch.
“Very well,” Nisero decided. “Let’s take the spur. Stay close to me and follow my instructions without delay. If I say it, I say it for a reason that I may not have time to fully explain. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Arianne acknowledged. “Now you speak like a right proper husband. We should find you a nice wife you could order around.”
“I thought…” He cut himself off as they approached the spur. He was going to mention that he had thought at one point that he had found a wife that could be a proper partner. That split in the road of his life had come some time ago and he had let her take a different path from him, without following. There was no riding back to that point now. He was not sure if he or she had been the one to take the dangerous spur, but that was the point where their lives diverged and he had let it happen.
“You thought what?” she asked.
“I thought wives were the ones that gave the orders.”
Arianne laughed. “We definitely need to marry you off, then, Niser… ugh, Dreth…”
They took the spur together and continued on their journey.
“I’m not sure I am up for that adventure any time soon, but I appreciate your concern, Arianne.”
“Of course,” she replied.
The trail proved rougher, but barren of other travelers. As far as Nisero could discern, bandits had no use waiting on a trail no one traveled. As sundown approached, there seemed to be no end to the trail.
“I’m going to need to find us a secure area to make camp, Arianne.”
“Let’s keep going. We’re getting close to the message drop.”
They rode on, but as darkness began to set in, he started to think about the ambush on the road to the eastern kingdom that had cost him all his brothers in the Guard. If there was another attack, it would just be him and a pregnant woman. He doubted his own ability to keep people around him safe more so than he ever had in all his life.
Motion drew his attention off to the left.
Nisero crouched in the saddle and stared into the shadows, but saw no one.
“Get ready to ride hard,” he instructed.
“In the darkness? On this trail?” she asked in surprise.
Nisero showed his teeth. “What did I say before we took this spur, woman?”
Nisero was jerked backward off the horse so hard that he thought he had run into a catch wire strung across the trail. It was a common tactic of bandits and his only thought as he fell was that he hoped it had missed Arianne.
But Nisero realized as he landed on his hip and the horse reared ahead of him that he had been seized and yanked down from behind. He felt the hands of his attacker close around his neck in the darkness.
“Ride, Arianne!” he shouted as he turned the bandit’s wrist and twisted around inside his grasp. He tried to spy others but could not make out other men in the darkness.
His own arm twisted up behind him and he took a knee to his gut driving out his air. Nisero flipped over and landed on his back with his arm extended above him and his wrist pressed back the wrong way. As he stared up into the treetops, he saw that Arianne was still on her horse and watching with eyes wide instead of riding away. He tried to yell at her to go, but he could not find his air. Nisero tried to sit up, but a boot pressed his throat and chin and drove his skull back against the ground.
Nisero blinked against purple stars in his vision and clawed for the hilt of his sword.
“Father!” Arianne exclaimed. “It’s Nisero. Let him up!”
Captain Berengar growled, “I know who he is.”
Nisero stopped with his hand on his sword, but did not draw it. “Berengar? Good to see you, old friend.”
Chapter 6: Want You Dead
Berengar kept his boot on Nisero’s throat and the lieutenant’s arm torqued and extended. “Why did you bring her with you?”
Nisero had to rasp out his reply. “She gave me no choice.” The strain caused by the former captain’s unforgiving hold on his airway and muscle joints was becoming painful.
Nisero saw that Berengar wore a broadsword with a black hilt in a plain leather sheath on his belt. It reminded Nisero of the swords of many bandits they had fought together in the past.
Captain Berengar spoke through his teeth down at him. “There is always a choice.”
“Father, let him up and listen to what he has to say,” Arianne pleaded.
“The Elite Guard is dead,” Nisero groaned from the ground.
“I know,” Berengar said, “and they are looking to you for it.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I know you didn’t. But you brought my pregnant daughter with you and have involved her in the search. You should have insisted that she send you alone. You should have after all we did to rescue her and bring her back to safety. For the sake of my unborn grandchild, Nisero, why would you involve her in this after all I have lost?”
“I’m sorry,” Nisero whispered. “She is stubborn and I had to find you.”
“I insisted,” Arianne added. “You made yourself impossible to be found. I had to come to be sure he found you.”
“I’m not talking to you, Arianne.”
“Well, father, you
better let him up and start talking to me, or I’m going to have my horse kick you in the head to get you off him. You had better believe that.”
Berengar glared at his daughter, who met his intense gaze as best she could. Eventually he released Nisero’s arm and took his boot off the lieutenant’s throat.
Nisero bent his arm back into his chest tentatively and coughed several times. Arianne dismounted and ran to Nisero’s side. Berengar reached for her, but she side-stepped him. She took Nisero’s shoulders and hoisted him up to a sitting position. Nisero stood on his own from there and stepped away from her.
He rubbed his throat and looked Berengar in the face. His former captain looked older and haggard. The lines over his skin and along his face were deeper and made him look far more elder than not that many years before. The scar along his cheek left by Berengar’s final battle with Solag looked like an ancient marking, as old as a rune upon the wall of a forgotten temple. Gray had set deeper into his hair.
Nisero had no doubt that Captain Berengar still possessed very near his full measure of strength and skill. His own inability to counter the captain’s attack gave him great assurance, through his pain, that Berengar was exactly who he needed. He just needed to direct the older man’s rage away from himself.
“If I could find you,” Berengar said, “then others will be able to as well.”
“I am deeply sorry, sir. I have to solicit your aid, no matter how angry you may be at how I went about it.”
“What is it that you expect we are going to do, Nisero?” Berengar took a few paces away, then abruptly turned and strode right up to him. “You, me, and my pregnant daughter are going to storm the capital and demand an audience with the King? We’re going to battle Captain Forseth and the last surviving members of the Guard to prove you didn’t betray them? We’re going to take on the entire army of two kingdoms ourselves. Is that it?”