Tides of Blood and Steel (16 page)

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Authors: Christian Warren Freed

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery, #Arthurian, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Tides of Blood and Steel
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“Fair enough,” he finally replied. “We are going to need good winter clothes. I don’t want to go up into the mountains with what we have.”

A light snow began to fall as if to emphasis his point. Frost was already forming on the windows and metal surfaces.

“The mountains of death are no place to go this time of year. We must be cautious,” Bahr said.

“At least nothing has changed.”

Bahr forced a smile. “Hopefully the trading post has what we need. I agree that we are going to need heavy blankets and furs for this trip.”

“If not, it is going to take a lot of hunting to make enough blankets.”

The pair entered the run-down trading post fully expecting to be ripped off by the proprietor. They weren’t disappointed.

 

 

“Why is everyone out here in the stables?” Bahr asked upon their return.

Nothol looked over his shoulder. Most of the others were fast asleep, buried under a pile of horse blankets. He quickly explained what had happened, much to Boen’s disappointment. The Gaimosian would have much rather have had some fun in a barroom brawl rather than the incessant haggling over prices and goods.

“We had a slight misunderstanding,” Nothol said. “Did you get what we need from the traders?”

“Not as much as we should have. The place wasn’t in too good of shape and we cleaned out what was left.” Boen had a disappointed look.

Bahr added, “Let’s wake everyone up and get moving. I think it would be wise if we were gone before dawn.”

They decided on letting a few stay asleep, Skuld and Ionascu mainly. Bahr lost the protest against Maleela being awakened, and then she defiantly refused to go back to sleep. The others had good sense enough to walk away as she angrily placed her hands on her hips and glowered at her uncle. She won, as if there were any doubt. Bahr backed down and the tiny group got under way.

The Sea Wolf caught Boen smiling and he held up a finger. “Do not say a word.”

The Gaimosian ignored the warning and chuckled. “It looks like you have finally met your match, old man.”

“Like you could do better,” Bahr scolded before breaking into laughter. “She’s going to be a spitfire for that Aurec once all of this is finished.”

“Better him than me. I prefer my women far away.”

Bahr eyed him curiously. “That doesn’t speak well for a normal home life.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there is not too much of a home for any Gaimosian. We are independent that way.”

They rode on, slowly so as not to draw too much attention. The hour was well after midnight and even the hardiest of them was exhausted. None noticed the broken shadow dislodge from the side of a run-down building and slip off into the night. The air was crisp, just chill enough to leave a burning sensation in their noses and lungs. Bahr liked nights like this. They made for good sleeping. Good sleeping in a nice, warm bed, not riding around in a hostile village. The cold now only served to bring out his aches and pains. He almost regretted instructing Nothol not to get a room. It didn’t matter. Soon enough they were at the trading post.

Bahr glanced back at Anienam, who drove the wagon. “Swing it around the back. Boen and I will go in to ensure our friends still intend to deliver. We will meet you in a few minutes.”

Snapping the reins, Anienam did as he was instructed while Bahr and Boen went inside. The trader was sitting in the same position he had been when they’d left. Boen immediately grew suspicious. He began scanning the area, wary of a trap.

“Back so soon eh?” the trader asked.

His eyes shifted quickly to the rear entrance and then back. Boen, almost missing the move, stiffened instantly. His instincts screamed with warning.

Bahr caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but played ignorant. “We did say tonight. Is our order ready?”

“Most of it. My men have it out back and are waiting.”

“What do you mean mostly? You assured us it was going to be ready when we returned,” Boen growled. “I don’t trust men who don’t keep their word.”

Bahr used the opportunity to ease forward. “What my Gaimosian friend here is trying to say is that we’ve contracted with you to perform a service and we fully expect you to be accountable.”

The trader visibly blanched. “A Vengeance Knight, here?”

The scrape of metal whisking free from the scabbard filled the tense air. Boen offered a wicked grin. “You have heard of us?”

“Y…yes.”

Bahr’s patience was gone. “Our supplies, now! I am tired of talk and I cannot promise my friend will keep his temper in check much longer.”

They followed the trader, a filthy and diminutive man, out the back door and into the middle of a scene they’d only half expected. Close to twenty armed men had surrounded the wagon. Bahr found it odd that one had a freshly ruined face, but then recalled Nothol’s tale. It all fell into place. These men had bucked up and been slapped down. Pride demanded they return to finish things. They were ready for a fight this time. Or at least they thought they were.

Marq pointed his sword at them menacingly. “Our fight isn’t with you.”

Boen flexed. “I say it is. Those are my friends. If you have a problem with them, you have a problem with me.”

Several of the thugs grew fidgety. None expected a serious fight when Marq talked them into following the wagon. The monster of a man that entered the area was daunting, much more than they were willing to risk their lives against. Making it worse, he had murder in his eyes.

Marq remained unimpressed. “I said stay out of this, old man. My fight is with this one. He broke my face and I want revenge.”

“He may have broken your face, but I’m going to take your life,” Boen growled. “It might do wonders for your attitude.”

Marq postured himself for attack.

The trader ran between them, hands waving in the air. “Stop this! He is Gaimosian! We’ll all die.”

The thugs paused.

Bahr lashed out, snatching the trader by the throat. They had been compromised and announcing Boen for what he was sealed their fate. “Friend, that just cost you your life.”

He threw the trader from the dock. The man landed in a crumpled heap, whimpering to himself. At least one rib had snapped. Still, he knew better than to get up and flee. Bahr glared down at him. The Sea Wolf cursed himself for being betrayed. Perhaps if he had been thinking straight they might not be in this situation. Praeg was violence, her people scum. They should never have come here.

“Whatever happens next, you die first,” Boen told Marq matter-of-factly.

The thug swallowed hard. He was a big man unused to people challenging him. All of his instincts said attack, told him to meet destiny with the measure of his worth. His friends whispered caution, fear. Going head-to-head with a Gaimosian was pure suicide. All it took was a second, a singular moment of indecision and Boen made up their minds for them.

“Go back to the tavern and your drinks,” Nothol offered a final warning.

Dorl added, “No one needs to die tonight.”

Marq raged. “You do! Look what you did to my face! You both die tonight.”

His actions spurred the thugs into action. Swords and truncheons swung with wild enthusiasm. Boen burst into action with unparalleled speed and ferocity. He leapt off of the dock, driving his blade down through the trader’s spine. The man died with a blood-spattered whimper. The violence of action stunned the thugs. They’d come expecting a relatively easy kill. Boen and Bahr changed those odds. Both older men moved with the grace of experienced killers.

Blood sprayed from arterial wounds. Horses neighed and bucked. The band of thugs never had much of a chance. Rekka and Boen accounted for most of the kills. They worked swiftly and efficiently. Rekka’s slender blade ripped through one man’s throat as he attempted to flee. Survivors were more dangerous than if they stayed and fought. One of his partners lashed out, catching Rekka in the upper right arm. She let out a strangled grunt and backed away. Hot blood trickled down her sleeve. She snarled, raised her sword in a high guard and attacked. Rekka moved so fluidly that she appeared as a blur. Her blade took him just below the sternum. Pain twisted his features even before his body told him he was dead.

“Come on! Let’s get out of here!”

Marq shook off his friend with a violent shove. “You run. I am ending this.”

By now most of the thugs were dead or mortally wounded. Only Marq was still on his feet. His anger flowed so hotly he failed to notice his opponents were purposefully ignoring him. He pointed to Nothol. “This is between us. Tell your friends to back away.”

Nothol shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. “It’s your life.”

Marq was beyond caring. His veins burned with venom. It was a small victory that he managed to maintain his poise as long as he had. The rest stepped back and gave the duo room to fight.

“Are you sure you do not want me to step in and take care of this for you?” Dorl demurely asked.

Nothol smiled with a malevolent gleam. “He wasn’t much of a problem before. This won’t take long.”

Marq charged, tired of waiting and being humiliated. It was a fatal mistake. The sell sword stepped back, letting his opponent rush into him. Marq judged wrong and thrust too deep into Nothol’s defenses. Nothol blocked the blade down and slashed upward. Steel ripped across Marq’s unprotected chest. Dark blood poured out from a ragged line. The bigger man staggered and dropped to a knee. His breath came in sporadic gasps. The steam clouded around him. He looked up with pleading eyes. Nothol Coll obliged him, driving his sword through Marq’s heart. The body collapsed in a bloody heap and Nothol bent down to wipe his blade clean.

Maleela threw both hands over her mouth, more to cover the gasp of shock than for the level of violence. Blood and death bothered her little now. The nightmare at Chadra Keep, all those weeks ago, started it. This was practically nothing. She shifted her gaze from the body to Nothol. He was already sheathing his sword. She found it odd that he showed no emotion.

“This isn’t over,” Bahr warned.

He was right. The thugs might have been beaten, but there was an entire village against eight. It was only a matter of time before more came.

“Load the wagon quickly. Take whatever you think we are going to need.”

“That is robbery!” Maleela protested and immediately regretted her comment.

Boen stepped over the dead trader. “I do not think he will mind. The bastard sold us out. He gets what he deserves.”

“Hurry up,” Bahr hissed. “They’ll be back soon and I want to be long gone before they do.”

This time there were no protests. The tiny band moved as fast as they could, denying their foes the use of necessary equipment should they decide to follow Bahr. Soon the village of Praeg lay behind them.

 

FOURTEEN

Deliberations

The wagon rumbled on into the dying night. Bahr pushed them as hard as he thought they could take. It was only a matter of time before they were ridden down, either by the villagers of Praeg or by Harnin’s men. Dawn wasn’t far off and that meant they would be easy targets for anyone close enough to see them. Bahr trusted that the horses could take it. The adventure was still young enough that both men and beast were relatively fresh.

Most of those aboard the wagon stayed silent. No one was rightly sure what to say after the brief battle at the trading post. Violence was no stranger for the warriors flanking the wagon on horseback and that was of small some comfort. The princess, the thief, and the wizard were not warriors and needed the others if they were going to successfully find the blood hammer and save Delranan. Maleela watched Dorl and Nothol the most, curious about their relationship and their inability to emotionally involve themselves in the art of killing.

“You know you got lucky back there,” Dorl chided.

Nothol shot him an exasperated glare. “I don’t believe in luck. You of all people should know that.”

“It doesn’t really matter what you choose to believe. You got lucky,” Dorl countered.

“That man never had a chance, not from the moment he tried to take the princess.”

Dorl shrugged. “He could have had you if he had taken his time.”

Nothol rolled his eyes, but continued the argument for the sake of passing time and killing boredom. “All right, tell me, wise one, when exactly was his chance?”

A rueful smile. “When they first attacked. He shouldn’t have talked so much.”

“Oh please! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Nothol, we were outnumbered and taken completely by surprise. They could have easily filled us with arrows.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you have lost your mind,” Nothol replied. “Besides, that would have been cheating.”

“There is no cheating in battle. You fight to win, nothing more,” Boen rumbled from behind them.

“I don’t understand how men can so casually talk about killing,” Maleela said after they had fallen silent.

Anienam smiled endearingly. “They talk about what they know. Sometimes those of us who do not partake in that lifestyle fail to properly understand the impact.”

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