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Authors: Robin D. Laws - (ebook by Undead)

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BOOK: 01 - Honour of the Grave
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CHAPTER SIX

 

 

Angelika stood before the horse, resting a hand on either side of its long
face. Touching the animal gave her a tranquil feeling, which she knew was only
temporary. It waggled its head back and forth; she could not be sure whether it
was conveying pleasure or annoyance.

“I will call you Swordhoof,” she said to it.

It rolled down its upper lip and sneezed, blowing a thick coating of equine
mucus onto her face and neck. She used her fingers to wipe the muck off. By the
time she’d got enough of it away from her eyelids to open them, Swordhoof had
turned around and was trotting over to Franziskus’ horse, which was grazing in
the tall grasses beneath a rock shelf, tethered to a fallen log. The horses were
damp with sweat; Angelika and Franziskus had used them to get several leagues
away from Benno and company. They had just stopped to rest both the animals and
themselves. To aid the beasts’ recovery, Franziskus had relieved them of the
saddles and packs they’d carried.

Swordhoof nosed at the other animal’s tether, trying to untie the loop from
the log. Angelika saw this and ran at the nag. It chortled at her, in a way she found too intelligent, and then reared
up, flashing its hooves at Angelika. She backed off from it, watching in disgust
as its companion jolted onward, slipping the tether the rest of the way off the
log. The crazy grey drank in one last mocking look at Angelika and then galloped
off at top speed, heading back down south. After a moment’s hesitation, and a
questioning look at Franziskus, the second horse followed, straining to keep up.

“I think your nag was a daemon in a former life,” said Franziskus. “Or
perhaps a Marienburg barrister.”

Angelika watched the horses grow smaller in the distance. “Well, they would
have been a hindrance anyway,” she said.

Lukas sat cross-legged in the grass, close to where the horse had grazed. He
had his head down. He’d said little since they hauled him off Swordhoof’s back.

Franziskus emerged from a patch of low vegetation, where he’d been foraging.
“What do you know of mushrooms?” he asked Angelika.

“I know that some of them are toadstools, and can kill you.”

Disappointment played across his face. “I grow tired of field salami and raw
turnip.”

“If the horses hadn’t already had Benno’s saddlebags on them, we wouldn’t
even have the salami.” They’d also acquired several blankets, a compass, and a
lantern, with some oil to burn.

Franziskus raised his voice, addressing Lukas: “Are you hungry?”

Lukas said nothing.

“Not much day left,” Angelika said, checking the sky for the sun’s position.

“You don’t think the goblins killed them?” Franziskus asked, referring to the
Averlanders. Several hours had passed since their escape; they’d been resting
for twenty minutes now, at most. The rest of the time had been spent riding
north.

“No, I don’t think so. They were only goblins. They might kill a few of the
more aggressive ones, and the rest would run for the hills. The best we can hope
is that the Sabres took some nasty hits and have stopped to tend their wounded.
I wouldn’t wager any money on it, though. We’d better get moving.”

“To where, precisely?”

“That I haven’t figured out, yet.”

“They’ll know to look for us at the Castello.”

“True.” She strode over to the boy. “I was foolish to rescue you, wasn’t I,
Lukas?”

He tore fistfuls of grass from the ground and threw them into the air. The
wind blew them back into his face.

“I don’t have anywhere to take you where you’ll be safe,” Angelika said. “I
should have left you to your brothers’ cruel mercies.”

“I don’t want to be killed,” Lukas said.

“I’m glad to see you’re recovering your senses. Franziskus, you think I did
the wrong thing, don’t you?”

The blond-haired man reached into his pack, which was on the ground near
Lukas, and unscrewed the pewter cap on his waterskin. “Certitude deserts me. You
may be right: he may not have had a fair chance with them.”

“How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me?” Lukas
exclaimed, leaping up. “If they get me home, I’ll be strangled, or made to fall
on my sword!” He wrenched the vessel from Franziskus’ hands and took a long
swig on it; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank.

“Franziskus,” Angelika asked, “you didn’t see anything other than mushrooms
in that brush, did you?”

“There was a pair of squirrels, but I didn’t feel like chasing them.”

Knife in hand, she bounded into the bushes, looking conspicuously around her.
She shrugged. She returned to the two young nobles, then shrugged again, making
the gesture large. “I thought I saw something,” she said, her voice elevated,
“but I guess it was nothing.” She moved to face the opposite way and said,
sotto voce,
“Elennath’s in there.”

“The elf?” Franziskus said, barely audibly.

“He’s lying flush against a log.”

“I didn’t see him.”

“He’s good, but his elbow was sticking up.”

“Do we take him?”

“No. I don’t know where the others are, but they must be around. Let’s get
our things, head for open ground, and stay on guard.”

They did as she said, stealing frequent glances at the hills to their right.
When Lukas’ pace lagged, she barked at him to keep up. When he asked who they
were looking for, she silenced him. They walked until the sun fell behind the
mountains. Then she took them up into the hills, where they backtracked south.
Whenever Lukas tried to speak, or let loose a cough, or if he stepped on a dry
leaf, she looked angrily at him. They heard a stream and searched it out,
halting to refill their waterskins; Angelika kept anxious watch. She herded them
on as the twilight thickened.

Finally they came upon a familiar cave: it was where Angelika and Franziskus,
along with the Averlanders, had taken shelter against the rain. Angelika told
Lukas to wait inside. She took the beastman’s net from her pack and tossed it
into Franziskus’ arms. He made a face; the net still reeked of blood and filth.
She walked to a nearby stand of leafy trees, their bark white and papery. She
found a young one, and began to bend its tall trunk down.

 

Lukas emerged from the cave. “Where are you?” he called, executing a confused
full circle, looking for his guardians.

“Go back in,” she hissed. She and Franziskus crouched behind a bush.

Lukas nudged out further. “It’s dark in there!”

“We left you a lantern, didn’t we? Light it.”

“I don’t know how to use the tinder.”

“Figure it out!”

“I already tried.”

She tapped Franziskus’ arm. Crouching, he ducked into the cave. She watched
as it filled with light. He ran back to her side.

About a minute later, Lukas started up again. This time, he did not venture
into their line of sight. “Why are you out there, while I’m in here?”

“Be quiet!” Franziskus ordered.

Angelika amended his order: “Shout all you want, but pretend we’re in there
with you!”

“You’re using me as bait!”

“Shout any complaint you want, other than that!”

Instead, he resumed his silence. Angelika and Franziskus waited without
exchanging words. The sky changed from inky blue to deepest black. Night birds
swooped above, catching insects.

“No, I won’t be silent and go to sleep!” shouted Lukas, from the cave. He
left a pause and then said, “I don’t need to thank you for it! I
deserved
to be rescued!” After another interval, he added: “I deserve better! I have
always deserved better!” Then apparently he grew tired of the effort to please
them, and his comments ceased.

Toby crept up first, along the trail from the north: the direction they’d
come from. He edged over to the cave mouth, and peered in. The lantern lit up
his greedy smile. He stepped back. With fingers on his lips, he made a bird
call, perfectly imitating the trill of the insect eaters flapping overhead. He
repeated this call three times, with short, even intervals between them.

Elennath skulked through the trees, up the hillside, where there was no
trail. Neither twig nor needle snapped beneath his soft-shod feet. Toby stepped
back to stand beside him. Now that the light shone on Elennath, Angelika could
see a long, white bandage tied across his face, bisecting it diagonally. It
followed the route of the slash she’d carved in him. The elf and halfling nodded
to one another; Toby made his bird call again.

They waited.

Nothing happened.

Toby repeated the bird call a little louder.

Finally, Henty tramped in from the south. He used the trail, but even so, his
scraping, heavy footfalls were easily heard. Elennath twisted around to make a
face at him, but he took no notice of it, trudging up to his two companions.
Elennath nudged him with one elbow, and Toby with the other. Knife in fist, he
nodded out a countdown—one—two—Just before he reached
three,
Angelika
and Franziskus pulled hard on the cords they held. The beastman’s net lay
beneath the mercenaries’ feet. It flew up to envelop them, and then flung them
up into the air as the tree Angelika had bent unfurled itself, returning to its
full height. The mercenaries, crushed into a tight ball of arms and legs and torsos, cursed
and grunted. They were bouncing up and down on the main umbilical that connected
the net to the tree. Angelika and Franziskus held their weapons tight until it
became clear that the cord would hold, and the suspended mercenaries were
securely trapped.

“You bitch!” the elf called out. Even in fury, his voice was rich and
mellifluous. “I’ll skin you for this, and wear your hide as a cloak!”

She sheathed her blade and stepped out from behind the bush. “If you’re
looking for reasons for me to let you free, that would not be one of them.”

Henty spoke, scratching out his vowels and slurring his consonants. “The elf
won’t kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you with my axe!”

“And I thought Toby was a poor negotiator,” Angelika said, ostensibly to
Franziskus. “Now I know why they let him do the talking.”

“Enough of the wit, girlie,” Toby murmured. His words were muffled: his face
was pressed tight against the net, impeding the movement of his lips. “Tell us
what you want with us. Unless you plan to gut us, in which case: go ahead and
try.”

“If we wanted you dead, you’d be rotting already.”

“Before, you were lucky!” Henty shouted. “I’ll kill you with my axe!”

“Your companion has a single-mindedness about him,” Franziskus remarked.

Henty snarled indignantly, as if Toby had just elbowed him.

Lukas jutted his head out of the cave. Ignoring Angelika’s jabbing and
forbidding finger, he came out to see the dangling captives. “These are the ones
you spoke of, who want to kidnap me?”

“Listen to the whining dandy, girlie, with his mincing tones.”

“You can’t talk to me like that!” Lukas said.

“Soon as I cut myself out of here, I’ll kick my boot halfway down your
porcelain backside!”

“You—you…” At a loss for expletives, Lukas hopped in place.

Toby made the net bounce. “This is the one you’re risking your life for,
girlie? He wouldn’t do the same for you, would he? He wouldn’t risk his life for
anyone, the mewling coward.”

“You seem to know a great deal about him,” Angelika observed.

“He was well described to us,” said Toby.

“Your employer realized as soon as they arrived in town that he should send
you after the Kopf brothers. It was only a few hours after I’d agreed to help
them that you were rubbing up against me, trying to figure out who I was.”

“No, it’s merely that I have a taste for bony wenches.”

“The prince is well informed about the Kopfs and their doings,” said Angelika.
“He must have a spy in their midst.”

With his tongue and teeth, Toby made a slurping noise that was vaguely
contemptuous. “All I know is to bring the whelp back, as hostage.”

“But this one is marked for death; he has betrayed his ancestral creed. If
his family wants him dead, he’s not much use as a hostage, is he?”

“The doings of generals and princes don’t interest me one jot. I just collect
my pay.”

“The prince wants him, all right, but not to ransom him off. He’ll use him as
a living trophy, to embarrass his enemy. The shame of the von Kopfs, on
permanent display.”

“No amount of bafflegab’s going to confuse me, girlie,” said Toby.

“I’m not trying to confuse you, you drooling halfwit. I want you to confirm
that he’ll be safer with your employer than with his father. He will, won’t he?”

“Wait a moment!” said Lukas. “What do you mean to—”

She clamped her hand over Lukas’ mouth. He tried to bite her, but she was
too experienced at the manoeuvre to let him do it. “Isn’t that right, Toby?
Despite your cruelty and general loathsomeness, you can be trusted to get him to
safety. Meaning: I can sell him to you with a clear conscience.”

“Sell him?” blurted Franziskus.

“We have no coin to buy him with, girlie. And I still don’t see the point
of your ramblings. Get us down from here!”

“I’ll kill you with my axe!” Henty roared.

“Close your mouths, both of you!” cried Elennath. “I’ll confirm it,” he said,
after his companions quieted their protests. He let loose a sigh of weary
vexation. “Yes, the prince does want the boy as his caged monkey, and he’ll be
guarded scrupulously. And I have a purse of coin I’ve been given, to cover
eventualities like this. Release us, hand the snot-nose over, and it’s yours.”

“How much?”

“Eighty crowns.”

A thrashing arose inside the net. It jounced on its tether. Elennath squealed
in pain.

“Eighty crowns?” Henty cried. “You’ve been holding out on us, elf scum!”

“You expect us to believe they trusted you and not us?” demanded Toby. The
violence of the net’s jerking and jarring increased. Angelika’s body readied
itself for quick action, in case they bounced themselves loose and came crashing
onto the trail.

BOOK: 01 - Honour of the Grave
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