The Heresy Within (35 page)

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.

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.

Thanquil heard the Black Thorn spit from somewhere behind him. “Don't reckon that's like ta happen. Reckon I'll let Big Mouth kill ya.”

Turning his head Thanquil gave the Black Thorn a withering look. The big, scarred man stared back impassively. One hand rested on his axe but he was making no move to use it. Jezzet was nowhere to be seen. Thanquil let out a sigh.

Big Mouth laughed. “We'll be taking you too, Black Thorn. Bounty on each of ya.”

“Oh,” the Black Thorn said and took a couple of steps forward so he was standing next to Thanquil. “Reckon that's wise? Three on three makes for even odds.”

“Way I see it, your witch hunter's not worth one. What are you doing crewing with one of them anyways?”

The Black Thorn glanced at Thanquil and then back to Big Mouth. “Ya know, I've been askin' myself the same question.”

“I don't see Jezzet,” Thanquil said in a quiet voice, not much more than a whisper.

“Aye,” the Black Thorn responded. “Gone with Swift ta fetch the magistrate. Reckon someone's been paid off. Don't see any guards about. Where's Bones?”

“Your Boss sent him to find Henry. What about the youth that was with you.”

“Green? Fuck I thought he was with you. Weren't in the whore house. Any chance we can pay ya off, Big Mouth?”

“Sure. Ya worth five thousand a piece, you an' the witch hunter both. Reckon you can afford that?”

The Black Thorn glanced down at Thanquil again. Thanquil could only laugh in response.

“Don't suppose ya take an I owe you?” the Black Thorn shouted back.

Big Mouth laughed and the Grinner next to him just grinned some more. The sun was just beginning to poke over the top of the small stone houses that surrounded them. Thanquil could hear the Boss fighting somewhere to his right but he dared not look, he knew his own fight would continue any moment. Truth was all he wanted was to finish his night's sleep.

Thanquil had been sound asleep when the Boss had burst into his room in the inn. Jezzet had sprung from the bed with sword drawn before Thanquil had even opened his eyes. All the big southerner had said was, '
Time ta go. Hunters on us.
' Jezzet had cursed and started looking for her boots while Thanquil had rolled from the bed and pulled his coat on not understanding what was happening.

“How'd ya find us anyways, Big Mouth?” the Black Thorn called. It occurred to Thanquil he might be delaying the fighting, stalling for time, and giving the others a chance to arrive.

“Chance. Luck. Just got back from Eagles' Nest. My fixer told me about a bounty on yourself an' the witch hunter, just so happens he also told me you was in town.”

“News travels fast. I was hopin' we might have beaten the bounty notices.”

Big Mouth laughed again, a loud abrasive noise that a drowning cat would have taken offence at. “Notices went out on birds, Black Thorn. Every hunter between here and Rockies is looking for ya. Lucky for me, I'm the one that found you.”

“Lucky?” the Black Thorn rasped out his own laugh. “Seems ta me ya used to travel with sturdier lads. Who's that one beside ya? What's ya name boy? Chuckles?”

“Fuck you, my names...”

“An' where's the Saint?” the Black Thorn interrupted the Grinner.

“Oh he's around, Black Thorn, don't you worry. Went ta look for you as it happens.”

The Black Thorn spat. “That'd make him the lucky one then.” He looked down at Thanquil again. “I got Big Mouth, you take Chuckles. Feel free ta get yaself killed.”

Thanquil almost spat himself. The Black Thorn unhooked his axe from his belt with his right hand and a dagger appeared in the left hand, he stole a quick glance at the Boss, gestured to Big Mouth and then stalked forwards. A few moments later the two met with the all too familiar sound of metal clashing against metal.

Then the Grinner was there in front of Thanquil with his wide grin filling his face. It was an unpleasant sight given that man had thick moist lips, an ugly boil jutting out from his weak chin and pale blond whiskers that sprouted from the sides of his jaw. To call him ugly would have been an insult to ugly people everywhere. He bashed his sword twice against his shield.

“My name is Barry, Barry the...”

“I really don't care.” Thanquil darted forwards with a burst of blessing augmented speed and jabbed at the Grinner with his sword. The attack was deflected with the small wooden shield but by the time the Grinner had recovered from the shock his grin was long gone and Thanquil had danced to his right and aimed a low slash at the man's legs.

The Grinner parried with his own sword and turned to face Thanquil. Another jab at his face and the Arbiter danced right again. He remembered his old arms master telling him the best way to defeat a foe with a shield was to make the shield useless, always attack from the sword arm side; don't give the enemy a chance to block.

It didn't take long for the Grinner to figure out the tactic and with a roar he charged at the Arbiter. The shield hit Thanquil square in the chest and the man's sword came in over the top. He just managed to parry the sword as he went over backwards.

The ground slammed into Thanquil's arse with a loud grunt of pain. A moment later he was scrambling to get away as the Grinner came at him again, shield up, sword attacking around its wooden edges.

Thanquil had never been that good with a sword but he had beaten people more skilled than him before. The trick, he found, to it was to cheat.

As the Grinner came on Thanquil kicked at the ground beneath him sending a screen of dust at his ugly assailant.

“Argh, what the fuck?” the Grinner whined. Thanquil danced to his right and jabbed. The attack was blocked but Thanquil could see the man trying to rub at his eyes.

“What's your name?” Thanquil shouted at the Grinner. He felt the compulsion lock onto the man's will, felt the rush of heady pleasure as it subverted his will, and forced him to think of nothing but the answer.

“Barry the...” Thanquil danced right and jabbed again.

“How old are you?”

“I don't know...” Again he danced right and jabbed.

“Where are you from?

“Korral...” Dance right. Jab.

“What's your name?”

“Barry...” Dance right. Jab.

“How old are you?”