Before he could recover she targeted his left side, going after his ribs, then switching and rattling his jaw with an uppercut that rocked him on his feet. Next she unleashed a left hook that split the skin over his eye. Screaming in rage he tried to grab her in a bear hug but she seized his wrist, twisted his arm and tossed him over her hip. He landed badly on his back and she danced away from his clawing hands. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear the roaring of the crowd.
When Grennig came back to his feet she let him go on the offensive, soaking up blows on her arms, taking some to the body and one or two to the face. Grennig grinned, thinking she’d used up all of her stamina and now the fight was his. When he tried to move in closer she slammed him in the middle of the forehead with an open palm, snapping his head back. Dazed he stumbled back, just in time for her to slip behind him and land three heavy punches to his kidneys.
Howling in pain he lashed out, staggering around like a drunk, but Tammy just kept her distance and waited. Wiping blood to clear his left eye Grennig didn’t see her until she was already too close. Two hard jabs rattled his teeth and there was another crack. Almost blind in one eye from the trickling blood, and with the other swelling shut, the first hints of fear began to set in. Tammy grinned fiercely at his expression and in that moment they both knew the fight was already over.
Piece by piece she took him apart, breaking him down until he was just a hunk of bloody meat.
She rattled his kidneys and ribs until he was hunched over, barely able to catch his breath. She repeatedly hammered his left eye, opening the cut even wider until half of his face was painted red. Next she seized his right arm, twisted it and tossed him halfway across the circle. He skidded across the tiled floor out of the circle, only to be shoved back in. With a grunt of effort Tammy grabbed him by the throat and crotch, lifted him overhead and threw him the other way. He landed badly on his side, one arm beneath him. Grabbing him around the throat she picked him off the floor, choking Grennig until his face turned red and then purple. When she dropped him he stayed there, on hands and knees, bloody and bruised, but still moving.
Two voices inside Tammy were telling her different things. The voice of experience told her to finish it quickly, but the other voice was telling her to hurt him. To make him suffer so that he would always remember her, and this moment when she had broken him. Now that she had opened herself to the darkness within it was difficult to suppress.
Snarling she kicked Grennig in the ribs, knocking him onto his back. A heel to the crotch made him squeal and curl up but she didn’t relent, sitting astride him and hammering blows into his face over and over until her hands were covered with blood. It splashed all over the floor, her arms, her face. Grennig was mewling, trying to shield his face, but Tammy kept punching until she heard something break.
Grennig’s hands stopped moving and flopped to his sides. The world swung back into focus and Tammy became aware of her surroundings and the sound of her frantic breathing. The roar of the crowd had not been in her head but now as she stood up, covered in blood, it drained away until an awful silence filled the temple. Looking down at Grennig she saw the shattered remains of a man. She didn’t know if that snapping sound had been his neck. He might be dead or just unconscious.
Appalled at what she had done Tammy gritted her teeth and forced the old rage away. Stumbling towards Fenne she crossed the circle until she stood before him, trying to catch her breath. The mercenaries surrounding the Morrin had all drawn their weapons and were looking at her with a mix of fear and awe. The people beside the mercenaries were less enamoured and Tammy found she couldn’t look at them as her shame was too great. Only Fenne seem unperturbed and was grinning. He applauded and his clapping rang out, echoing over and over around the dome.
“Is that it? Is that the best you have?” spat Tammy, trying to slow her breathing.
“Maybe you’d like to try another opponent?” suggested Fenne.
“That wasn’t the deal,” shouted one of the spectators. Fenne stood up, looking for the speaker, but with the crowd packed in so tight it was hard to find the source.
“We made a deal,” said Tammy, drawing the Morrin’s attention back to her. “Are you going to keep your word this time?”
Tammy knew Fenne wanted nothing more than to kill her, or pit her against another fighter, but now everyone was watching him. “Take your sword and get out,” he snarled, turning away until her voice stopped him.
“And I want the girl, Rheena. You promised me a servant.”
For a brief moment she considered fighting again and asking for Perron. Last time Fenne had not expected her to win, but now he had the measure of her skill. He would not give her a fair fight a second time. She had made a promise to the girl’s father and she intended to keep it.
Fenne paused with his back to her and Tammy felt the atmosphere in the temple change. The whole crowd seemed to be holding its breath and she saw a few mercenaries start to draw their weapons. It had been part of the deal, but Fenne never thought he’d have to honour it. She knew he didn’t care about the girl. It was more that she was taking something from him.
“Here,” said Kovac, shoving a young woman towards Tammy. Rheena was tall and gawky, somewhere on the border between a girl and becoming a woman. Tammy offered a smile to try and reassure the girl but she looked unsettled. After a second she realised it was probably the blood splattered across her face and hands.
Fenne glared at Kovac and then turned away, gesturing for his flunkies to follow. The tension eased and the crowd slowly began to disperse. After wiping off the blood and dressing quickly in her armour, Kovac and his friends escorted them to the gate. The plank was already laid out across the pit and Tammy sent the girl ahead. Overhead the sky was almost completely black, a few clouds obscuring the moon.
“Will you be all right?” asked Kovac as Tammy resettled her sword. She glanced at the sky and shrugged. Hopefully they could make it back before the Forsaken started to emerge.
“We’ll find out.” She offered Kovac a hand, which he shook. “Thank you.”
“Travel safe.”
With fatigue starting to set in from the fight Tammy crossed the pit back onto the street. As the gates closed behind her the last thing she saw inside the temple was Kovac. He raised a hand in farewell and the gates boomed shut.
Rheena stared at the temple and Tammy could see the tears standing out in her eyes. Her father was still in there and no matter how horrible it had been, at least she had been safe from the Forsaken. Now she was alone in the city and nightfall was almost here.
As they set off down the street Tammy heard someone approaching from up ahead. Their footsteps were loud in the oppressive silence and, much to Tammy’s surprise, Zannah walked towards her.
“Save your questions for later,” said the Morrin. “We need to get back before the Forsaken attack and we’re trapped outside with them.”
“Lead the way,” said Tammy, forcing herself to keep up with Zannah’s pace. They weren’t out of danger yet.
CHAPTER 24
Zannah stared at the bruised and battered face of Tammy, glanced at the girl and then turned away from the old temple. Her questions could wait.
She set a fast pace and knew the others would do their best to keep up. They understood the level of danger and Zannah would only slow down if they started to lag behind.
The streets were empty at the moment but that didn’t mean anything. Any second, the Forsaken could crawl out of the shadows. In her experience where there was one, more were always lurking nearby.
At the next crossroads she turned right and then quickly stopped, one hand instinctively going to her sword. On the left side of the street one of the buildings had been completely shattered and now all that remained was one crumbling wall. It created a black pool of the deepest shadows, and despite there still being some daylight, none penetrated this pocket of night. Zannah’s eyes adjusted and the black peeled away until she could see ever
ything in the shadows. The bricks, the rotting corpse of a small animal, broken furniture.
Discarded objects leapt into sharp focus, but the woman did not.
As ever it was difficult to see her clearly, as if Zannah was looking at her through a low fog or heat haze. She was a wraith. Incredibly tall and beautiful yet so thin that it made her look out of proportion and inhuman. Her shoulders were too wide for the rest of her body and the waist too narrow, as if she’d been cobbled together from different people. Zannah tried to focus on more details but all she could see was that the wraith wore something black covering most of her body. Only her hands and feet were bare and the skin on them was white as snow. A deep cowl sat on her shoulders and bright white hair tumbled down across it, glowing with its own light.
“What is it?” asked Tammy. Part of Zannah had hoped that Tammy might be able to see the wraith, but other people never could. “Why have we stopped?”
The wraith put a long graceful finger to her cherry-red lips and smiled. Zannah felt a prickle of fear run across her scalp and down her back.
“I thought I saw something,” said Zannah, turning her face away. The wraith didn’t disappear like a lost spirit. There were plenty of those drifting around the city. Sometimes at night on the wall, when it was quiet, a few spirits would walk past as if they were still alive. The following night the same spirits might appear again, going through the same ritual, caught in a place between life and death.
When Zannah moved past the wraith she could still see her waving. Gritting her teeth and telling herself it was nothing, Zannah pressed on. She resumed her punishing pace as she looked for trouble, and in some ways, hoped for it. At least the Forsaken were something she could fight. Even if she didn’t understand what they were, they could still be killed.
When they were more than halfway back to the winery she heard something in the distance. There was a brief shout of surprise followed by the roar of a crowd and then the screaming began. It was coming from somewhere to the west, towards one of the other camps.
“Keep up,” she told the others. The girl looked terrified, her eyes wide and innocent. Tammy was in pain and exhausted, but she just grunted and waved for Zannah to get moving. The Morrin immediately turned down an alley and started jogging, dodging around fallen masonry and broken roof tiles. Despite moving with speed her eyes picked out the safest path in the gloom and she heard her companions mirroring her route around obstacles. After a few minutes the sounds of battle fell away and she slowed to a fast walk. The streets around her seemed deserted but that only made Zannah more nervous. Her senses were stretched to the point where she could hear the heartbeat of the two women behind her. In the next street a loose stone slid down a pile and her sword was instantly in her hand, her eyes scanning the surrounding area.
Rather than moving away Zannah stalked towards the fallen stone, expecting trouble. It would be far better to deal with it now than run with the others trailing behind. She reached the fallen stone and looked up and down the street, but there was nothing there. Not even the wraith stared back at her this time.
With a slight shove of her foot the whole wall wobbled and then collapsed. Satisfied that it was nothing more than natural instability, Zannah returned them to their original path.
By the time they arrived at the gates of the winery the sky was completely black overhead. She was pleased to see someone else had lit the torches above the gate, and that several people were standing on the wall.
“Where have you been?” said Alyssa, chiding her, yet obviously relieved to see they were safe.
The rope came down and they sent the girl up first. She was weak and climbed with some difficulty but eventually managed it. All the while Zannah stood with her back to the torches, maintaining her night vision and view of the street. After staring at this part of the city night after night she knew every rock, every shadow, every fallen stone. Nothing was out of place. Then the wraith appeared again in one of the upstairs windows of a building halfway down the street. She grinned, pulled up her hood and, once she was sure Zannah had seen her, moved out of sight.
“Are you all right?” asked Tammy. Zannah tried to relax her shoulders. “Is it the Forsaken?”
“You go up next,” said Zannah, ignoring the questions.
Grunting with effort Tammy climbed the rope. Zannah kept watching the street but the wraith didn’t return and there was no sign of the Forsaken.
“Your turn, Zannah,” said Alyssa, from above.
Zannah turned and quickly scaled the rope, mostly using her arms and barely bracing her feet against the wall. Ever since the Battlemage had healed her she felt younger and stronger. A week ago she would have been much slower. Alyssa gave her a peculiar look as she slipped over the top, but if she’d noticed any change she didn’t mention it. More surprising was when Alyssa hugged her, pressing her skinny body against her.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she whispered. The others on the wall were staring in shock and Zannah could feel a few glares, as if she were to blame for Alyssa’s action.
Alyssa pulled away before Zannah could say anything in return. The girl and Tammy went inside and Zannah resumed her post on the wall. The others didn’t make space for her and they continued to pretend she wasn’t there. Only Balfruss seemed pleased to see her and he offered a smile before a worried frown settled back on his features. Zannah thought about asking him about the woman in the shadows. It would have to wait until they were alone.
“Will the Forsaken return tonight?” asked Balfruss, bringing her back to the present.
“Always. Last night’s attack didn’t work, so they’ll try something else. Maybe several waves to wear us down.”
Somewhere in the distance they heard a scream echo across the city. It sounded like an animal, but Zannah knew it was the feral scream of a dying human. Driven to despair and backed into a corner, a human would fight and keep fighting, even as their heart gave out. She’d seen it first-hand.
Elsewhere in the distance came the answering cry of rebellion and the clash of steel. It was coming from several directions and occasionally she saw a bright flash of light. The Forsaken were attacking other bases but not theirs. Not yet anyway. She was certain they would come in time.
Half an hour later Tammy came up the stairs. Her wounds had been treated and her hands bandaged, but there was a grey sheen to her skin from exhaustion. She clutched a steaming bowl of stew in one hand and a hunk of bread in the other.
“What’s happening?” she asked with her mouth full of food.
“The Forsaken are attacking,” said Zannah. Tammy tilted her head to one side and listened to the sounds of battle.
“We need to know what’s going on.”
“What is there to know?” asked Zannah. “The mercenaries are being attacked. Soon it will be our turn.”
“How many Forsaken are there?”
Zannah frowned. “You’ve asked this question. The numbers always change. No one knows the answer.”
“I’ve spoken to local people in every base, and none of them knows where the Forsaken come from or what they really are.” Tammy gestured at Balfruss with her spoon. “Is there a way you can track them with your magic? Find out where they go when the sun comes up?”
The Battlemage considered it before shaking his head. “No, not really.”
“We don’t know enough about them. We don’t even know what they want. The only way we’ll find the answers is from one of them. We need to capture one of the Forsaken alive.” Tammy’s words hung in the air between them and Zannah heard a few people on the wall fidget in discomfort at the thought.
“Even if we caught one, I don’t think it would willingly give up the others,” said Balfruss.
Tammy shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But they may not need to.”
“What did you find out?” he asked.
Tammy lowered her voice so that it didn’t carry to the others further down the wall. “I spoke to a man called Perron in Fenne�
�s camp. A friend of his became one of the Forsaken, but something went wrong. Even so he told Perron that he could feel the other Forsaken and that they’re all connected. Like a beehive or an ant colony.”
“There was something there,” said Balfruss, almost to himself. “Before we beheaded the Forsaken, I felt an echo of something tying them together.”
“If you had more time to study one of them, do you think you could trace the echo?” asked Tammy.
“Perhaps,” said Balfruss. “It’s worth considering.”
“The risk is too great,” said Zannah, not caring if anyone else heard her. “I will not bring a live Forsaken inside our shelter.”
Tammy spread her hands. “I’m open to ideas.”
Zannah waited for someone else to say something. The Battlemage would know of some other way to find out what they needed. He was more powerful than any wizard. He had changed the course of the war and killed the Warlock. Instead of providing an answer he remained silent and drummed his fingers on the wall.
Zannah grunted. Everyone had their limits.
Somewhere to the west there was a crashing of stone and a cheer from many voices.
“We still need to know what’s going on,” said Tammy, finishing off her food. “The best way is to watch the Forsaken.”
“You can’t go back out there,” said Alyssa, coming up the stairs. “You’re in no condition.”
Tammy looked as if she wanted to argue but whatever had happened in Fenne’s camp had exhausted her.
“I will go,” said Balfruss. “I can protect myself if the Forsaken try to attack me.”
“They will attack you,” said Zannah, earning a frown from Alyssa. “You move like a pregnant sow, noisy and slow. The darkness holds no secrets from me. I can see everything and move silently when I must.”
Alyssa stepped in front of Zannah. “You’ve only just come back. You don’t have to do this.”
“The plague priest was right,” said Zannah, remembering what the weird little man had said about them. “We have become sheep, frightened into waiting for the butcher.”
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