Just after dawn, I woke, stiff, achy, and miserable, limbs leaden as I climbed down off the wagon. I saw that the injured swing horse from the middle of the team had already been swapped out with a fresh one, and wondered how many beasts and dead men we left behind us.
I saw Braylar off to the side. He’d exchanged the damaged lamellar cuirass and byrnie for a mail haubergeon that had three rows of steel plates down the back and chest. The captain was leading his lieutenants, Soffjian, Vendurro, and a woman with a pug nose I recognized as Rudgi—she was shorter than me, in soldier’s garb and a lamellar cuirass, with coiled hair the color of honey and thick eyebrows the hue of bark. They were all heading away from the rest of the convoy, arguing amongst themselves, no doubt angry at being trapped and nearly annihilated again, and fire churned in my gut. I emptied my bladder, doing little to help my belly, and then slowly walked in the same direction, knowing that every moment I delayed would only shred my resolve further, and it was slight enough as it was.
Sure enough, the first thing I heard as I approached the group was Mulldoos sounding a bit slobbery as he jabbed a finger in the direction of Soffjian. “Your fault. You wiped the trail clean, like you ought to have, like you said you did, we wouldn’t be in this fix.”
She stabbed the butt spike of her ranseur into the dusty earth. “Syldoon, you would be dead already if I hadn’t risked everything to travel among you. Yes, I cleared the trail, and yes, I did it as competently as could be managed. Is it possible I missed something? Yes. It is a large company and I am one Memoridon. But it is just as possible that someone picked up your physical trail. A lot of broken twigs and hoofmarks in our wake.”
“Sure, fine, maybe behind us. But that don’t explain how they got ahead of us, laid that trap in that pissy little hovel town, got the war wagons set up real nice just waiting for us.”
Soffjian measured her response, though only barely. “You are a brute, but I gave you credit for a modicum of cunning. Surely you know that there are Memoridons conveying messages out there. They probably gambled on a few likely routes and planted ambushes, hoping to snare us.”
Not shockingly, Mulldoos wasn’t exactly mollified. “Sure. Could be that’s it. Or maybe you’re playing us. Maybe you wanted your witch sisters and those imperial horsecunts to ride us down. Maybe you’ve been coordinating with them the whole time. Come to think of it, that makes a lot more sense.” His hand fell to the pommel of his falchion.
She spun her ranseur, the tassels whirling like a dancer’s skirt. “It pains me to admit it, but I gave you far too much credit on the point of cunning. You are an absolute idiot. I am here at your Commander’s behest, and risking everything on your behalf, as it happens to align with my behalf.”
“You’re nothing but a faithless bitch who—”
Braylar stepped between them before Mulldoos had a chance to say or do anything else and raised his hand. “This serves no purpose, Lieutenant. You forget too quickly, my sister helped us escape Sunwrack. Why do so if she only intended to see us destroyed? Far more convenient to side with Cynead then and simply be done with it, yes?”
Mulldoos didn’t have a solid rebuttal to that one, which seemed to only make him angrier. “Fine. Fine, as you say. But that still means she did a shit job covering our trail. What’s the point of having her with us if she can’t even manage what she’s been trained to do?”
Azmorgon said, boomed really, “Don’t much care how they trapped us. Point is, they got a good idea where we are and where we’re going. All I want is a chance to deal some damage back to them. Maybe instead of running like rabbits, we ought to stand and engage. We run from Sunwrack, we run from Crossthatch, that’s what they expect. Run, run, run. But I say we take the battle to them. Surprise those whoresons and engage, crush them, kill the plaguing lot of them and piss on their corpses.”
Hewspear shook his head. “We would need a full company of giants like yourself to have any hope, Az. We are outnumbered, woefully, and our only hope is to slip free of this net and then rejoin Thumaar.”
Azmorgon waved a huge hand at the older man. “Bahh. Horseshit. I only brought my boys with this sad little outing thinking we’d get a chance to cut down some of those Imperial bastards. So far, all we done is tuck tail and get whittled down. It’s horseshit, it is. Nothing but a stinking load of—”
Braylar said, “You brought your boys with us because you were ordered to, Lieutenant. Our mandate is to get to Thumaar, above all else. We will have our vengeance. Make no mistake. But at my conviction and command. We will not waste the lives of everyone simply to satisfy your oversized bloodlust.”
“Weren’t saying that, Cap, just saying—”
“I know precisely what you are saying. But I will pick the time and place for us to strike back at them, and just now is neither. Just now is the time and place to consider how we can avoid any further ambushes or blockades and win free once and for all. And thus far, none of you has produced anything resembling a remotely useful strategy.” Azmorgon stared at his much smaller commanding officer and looked ready to argue his point, but instead rolled his massive shoulders and gave one small quick nod.
Braylar turned to his sister. “Soff—sweep behind us again.”
She pulled the ranseur out of the dirt and started to object but he raised a hand. “Yes, they know roughly where we are, but they can only coordinate amongst themselves with true and recent intelligence. Let us make that as difficult as possible. Redouble your efforts and cleanse our trail, yes?”
Soffjian sighed before slowly nodding. “I’ll do what I can, brother.”
Mulldoos said, “Best do better than that. Can’t afford another ambush up the road.”
Braylar said, “She will do what she can.” Then he looked at Vendurro and Rudgi. “Sergeants, make sure our men scour the landscape ahead. Send more scouts, and ensure that they appreciate that they must account for every possible place a battalion could be lying in wait. Another lapse will not be tolerated. Is that understood?”
Vendurro replied, “Aye, Cap. I’ll pass the word. Impress the gravity and whatnot. But seeing how fast we been riding, hard to look into every nook and cranny.”
“An abandoned quarry is hardly a nook though, is it, Sergeant?” The captain was spitting venom now.
Rudgi said, “Begging your pardon, Cap, but I have to agree with Ven here. It’s a lot of territory, and we’re moving fast. It—”
Braylar stepped closer to the pair, spitting spit now. “Do you think for an instant I am somehow unaware of our present circumstances? Do you?!”
Vendurro and Rudgi both shook their heads. “That is correct. I am painfully aware. If the scouts need to rotate out faster, they do so. If they have to take spare mounts to ensure a full gallop, they do so. They will investigate every deserted quarry, village, outpost, or temple, and doubly so any inhabited place. And you will be sure to mention that if they fail spotting the enemy again, they better hope the entire company is wiped out, because if not, my wrath will be far worse than anything our enemies can muster. See it done, Sergeants! That is all.”
Vendurro ran his hand through his hair, and Rudgi nodded. Together they said, “Aye, Cap.”
Soffjian and the sergeants started to walk away, and I took a deep breath before saying, “It might not help. None of it.”
The rest of Braylar’s retinue was accustomed to my presence by now, but Azmorgon looked at me as if I were a dead animal he’d just stepped on. “And what’s this runt know about it? Why don’t you stick to your quills, you little shit, and let the soldiers do the soldiering, eh?”
Braylar ignored him, and fixed me with that oh-so-disconcerting gaze. “What are you driving at, Arki?”
The entire group looked at me. I tried to focus on the friendlier faces, Hewspear, Vendurro. I realized that might be the last time I saw them so inclined. Still wondering if I was being courageous or making a colossal (or fatal) error, I said, “I don’t think Soffjian or the scouts are really to
blame.”
Braylar arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so? Do go on. You have my unadulterated attention.”
“Well, that is, I think I know how they’ve been tracking us so well. I don’t know for certain, but—”
Mulldoos slobbered, “Quit your hemming, scribbler. Get on with it already.”
Yes. Colossal error. After another gulp, I said, “It’s Skeelana. She must be in a group that’s following us.”
Soffjian gave me an impenetrable look. “And why would you say that, oh reedy scribe?”
Her gaze made me as uncomfortable as her brother’s, perhaps more. But I forced myself not to look away as I replied, “She told me something in Sunwrack. Just after we met the Emperor in the Circus. But I thought she was simply trying to unnerve me, and didn’t take it all that seriously. At the time. But now . . .”
Braylar snapped his fingers. “Out with it, Arki. What did she tell you?”
“She said she could follow me. Just as her sisters could track all of you.”
Braylar eyes narrowed almost to slits. “That bond requires an intimate, strong, almost fevered connection. You were not hung, so please, do explain why this wasn’t simply a bluff.”
“In Sunwrack, before the Caucus, she came to my room. Our room.
And—”
“Gods and devils, boy,” Mulldoos said, slapping his meaty thigh, “Tell me you weren’t stupid enough to mount a plaguing witch.”
“No,” I replied, looking at Soffjian. “But we did kiss. That was it. I never imagined that would be enough, so I assumed Skeelana was . . . could that be enough?”
Mulldoos’s pale face went red, Braylar gave me his scowliest scowl, Vendurro shook his head sadly, Rudgi only looked confused, and Soffjian laughed. But Azmorgon took three long strides and struck me across the face with the back of his hand. Unlike the buffet Braylar delivered to Mulldoos a few days ago, this one sent me flying off my feet and sailing backwards. I struck the ground, blasting the wind out of my lungs, and stared up at the flat gray sky, unable to move, wondering if he had dislocated my jaw or cracked my skull.
And then Azmorgon was standing above me, blocking out the sky, the world, the future, his face practically purple. “You stupid shit! You know how many men we lost yesterday, on account of you? Do you, you plaguing bastard, you stupid little fuck? Do you?!”
I thought he was going to stomp on my head and finish me off, but then two blades crossed underneath his chin, a falchion and the head of a slashing spear.
Mulldoos spoke slowly, eliminating some of the slurring. “Settle down there, Ogre. He might be a stupid bastard, but he’s our stupid bastard. Can’t let you crush him into jelly.”
Hewpsear nodded from the other side of the giant, his spear in both hands. “Perhaps the captain didn’t explain things to you fully—though I seriously doubt that—but our archivist here has essential utility to this mission. He is young, foolish, and has poor amorous taste, but his health is paramount to our success. And what’s more, no one pressed him for this admission—he willingly volunteered the information. Late, as it were, but of his own accord. So I advise you to step back and breathe deeply a few times until you have mastered your passions.”
Azmorgon looked at the other two lieutenants as if they were mad. I probably was too. He said, “This is how it is, huh? Siding with a stupid plaguing cunt over your own kind?”
Mulldoos tapped the falchion blade against the slashing spear. “I ain’t seen you in years, Ogre. Never much liked you before, can’t say what’s changed for the better in the last few days. You’re a horsecunt and a half, but you’re my Towermate and brother, and I’ll defend you against any threat that comes. Any and all. But while the scribbler might have horse-shit for judgment, he’s no plaguing threat to anyone but hisself, and we’re wasting real valuable time talking right now. So why don’t you listen to the old goat here and take a step back and gentle up right quick? Play it smart.”
If Azmorgon was bothered overmuch by the steel at his throat, he didn’t show it at all. Maybe he thought his dense beard would preserve him. “You talk mighty big for a squat little man who’s gone half to mush.” Then he looked at Hewspear. “And you, Walking Stick—I respect my elders, but only so long as they ain’t got addled brains. Yours are churned like butter, old man. Seems to me the witch castrated the both of you in Sunwrack. Now, you lower those blades right plaguing now, or I’ll take them from the pair of you and bury them in your bungholes.”
Then Braylar was there, and while he didn’t have Bloodsounder in hand, he didn’t need it. “Lieutenant, while I don’t have anything against a little scrap amongst the men now and then, this is neither the time or place. You will shut your mouth and do your duty. The archivist is my concern, and I alone will attend to him. Have I made myself abundantly clear?”
Azmorgon slowly stepped back and Mulldoos sheathed his falchion and Hewspear propped his spear on his shoulder. “Real plaguing clear, Cap. Got to ask, though, did that bitch Rusjenna mess with your head, too?”
Mulldoos reached for his falchion again but Braylar put his hand on the lieutenant’s wrist. “Enough, the lot of you.” Then he turned to Azmorgon. “I consider myself a consummate communicator. But perhaps ‘shut your mouth’ was somehow ambiguous, yes? Do I need to elaborate or unpack that command for you, Lieutenant?”
Azmorgon looked down on his captain and shook his head. “Nope. Got it, Cap.”
“Very good. Commander Darzaak appointed you lieutenant, but it is well within my purview to strip you of the rank if warranted. And failure to obey direct orders will do nicely as justification. How about that—is that clear as well?”
Azmorgon nodded once, spit in the dust, and then stalked off back towards the convoy.
Hewspear shook his head and looked at the sergeants. “Let this be a lesson to you junior officers. Discussion is permitted. Encouraged even. But insubordination, gross or slight, will never be tolerated.”
Mulldoos walked over to me, squatted with some effort, and leaned over me, wobbling a little.
He reached out his hand, and for moment it seemed he meant to help me up, and I started to rise, holding my face. But then he placed his palm on my chest and pushed me back down. I flinched and he said, “Don’t worry, scribbler, I didn’t save you from the Ogre just so I could kill you myself. Not yet anyways. But you don’t pull your head out of your scrawny ass and quit chasing after witch slit, and we’ll be having a real different conversation next time. You understand me, boy?”
I nodded.
“Alright then.” Mulldoos withdrew his hand. “You are without question the dumbest little overeducated shit I ever met.” He stood unsteadily and sauntered off, cursing.
Vendurro came over and did offer me his forearm. I clasped it and he hoisted me to my feet, then swatted some dust off my tunic. “Got to say, Arki, hoping you held back. You did more than kiss the witch, didn’t you?”
I hesitated and then figured the truth had gotten me in as much trouble as it could, so a little more wouldn’t hurt. “No. I did not.”
“Well then,” he said, “got to agree with the previous assessment. Dumb was fooling about with a Memoridon in the first place. Dumber was not at least getting your pecker wet for the trouble.” Vendurro gave a crooked smile, swatted my back, though whether to clear more dust or congratulate me on my stupidity, I wasn’t sure, and then headed off to brief the scouts.
Braylar turned to Soffjian. “Well. You are vindicated at least. Can you sweep behind us to prevent her from tracking our resident buffoon here?”
Soffjian was still grinning, finding the whole situation morbidly amusing. “I will need to spend a few minutes with him, to register his ‘footprint’ as it were.” She showed her teeth in a predatory smile, and I felt myself shiver. “Have no fear, archivist. I won’t kiss or hang you, I promise.”
The captain said, “Do it. Immediately.” He gave me a dark look. “We will speak of this later, Arki.”
Braylar wa
lked past me, brushing my shoulder with his own, before I had a chance to reply. I turned and watched him stalk back to the wagon.
Soffjian said, vulpine smile still in place, “You and Skeelana really are full of splendid surprises, aren’t you?”
Soffjian led me away from the convoy, through short scrubs and dust and rock, the dark rich soil of Anjuria giving way to a drier, hillier landscape in Urglovia. She said, “You really are going to develop a sullied reputation, consorting with she-devils like this.”
I intended to keep my mouth shut, as it only seemed to get me in trouble, but found myself saying, “I never meant to . . . that is, I never imagined that my . . . dalliance with Skeelana could possibly endanger anyone in the company. At the time, I thought, like all of us, that she was a Jackal.”
Soffjian put the butt spike in the dirt in time with her right foot coming down. “Surely the boarson warned you against even glancing at our kind, did he not?”
“Boarson? Mulldoos?”
“The very same. He is a brute, to be certain, but also possesses some cunning. So I imagine he would have told you it’s not clever, getting entangled with a Memoridon. And less clever still, failing to report some critical information after she betrayed the Jackals.”
I noticed she didn’t say “us” and was reminded that she bore no lasting loyalties to anyone in the company now. “Well, as I said, I thought she was simply trying to needle me, or get a rise. I didn’t think briefly kissing her would be . . . never mind.”
We stopped midway down a small hill, with the battalions hidden behind us. “Must have been some kiss,” she said, seeming to enjoy my discomfort, as she offered that disquieting smile again. “This is far enough. Now then, as I said, this shouldn’t cause you any undue discomfort. I have no wish to bond with you, I only need to peruse some of your memories to get a feel for the kind you will likely leave in your wake.”
Chains of the Heretic Page 7