Escana (71 page)

A quiet bit of blade work coaxed
the bolt from the door in gentle increments, he pushed the head of it
down and slipped inside.

There were three bodies inside,
all of them soundly asleep from the patterns of their breathing. It
was too easy, they lay together in a tangled embrace as if their arms
could protect each other from the terrors of the night.

A deft stroke from his blade cut
open the throat of the first. By the time the third man was starting
to wake the other two lay dying in welling pools of blood. He had no
chance to utter a cry before he joined them in their fate. Hern
relieved the man of his armament, he would not need the knife any
longer.

Carefully shutting the door
behind him, Hern proceeded to the next one. This room contained four
men, much the same as before. There was a certain monotony as this
time Hern utilised both blades in the same manner as before, slicing
open the throats of the outer two before proceeding with the inner
victims. Again there were no cries beyond a faint gurgling that would
have been imperceptible to the unfortunate residents of the next
room.

This was the grunt work, the
sheer numbers of men that Dyson had promoted to the position of guard
made Hern's task harder. These men slept together and if there were
even larger domiciles Hern would struggle to deal with all of them
without the inevitable cries raising suspicion.

The next room was unlocked and
contained only one person, this doubled his caution. Anything that
seemed out of the ordinary warranted immediate suspicion, it was how
someone in his line of work stayed alive.

He slipped in under a shroud of
darkness, patiently listening to the sounds of the man breathing. It
was entirely natural if a bit congested, at least the element of
surprise was still his. A single dispatch and he would be on his way.

Leaning forward to make the quick
incision he was startled as the man's arm shot out and gripped his
knife hand with crushing strength. He blocked out the pain and
brought the second blade across in a broader stroke than he had
intended. Patiently he waited for the man's fingers to lease their
hold as the blood poured out of him, he could smell the coppery tang
of it in the dark.

Flexing his numb fingers, he
retrieved his fallen blade and redoubled his efforts at caution. If
one man could cause him such shock then what would those
better-trained than he manage to do in a struggle?

The self-imposed state of focus
that the conflict had jogged him out of was reinforced, he became
detached from the emotions and worries that pervaded his every
thought. There was only the action and the consequence that required
dealing with. If the action was correct in execution then there would
be no consequence to concern himself with. The cold logic struck at
the heart of what he was attempting, it nullified his doubts and
fears and insecurities. They could impose themselves only upon the
ending of his endeavours, they would betray him otherwise.

Another room with four men,
another four throats cut. Two men, three men, then the final room of
that particular section of the fort.

The door was unlocked, inside
there were numerous breathing sounds. Hern edged his way in and let
his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness as he listened.

There were at least seven of
them, possibly more, he'd need to scout around the perimeter of the
room to be certain. The efficacy of his previous technique had come
to an end, this presented an entirely new challenge.

With the limited light from the
window as his guide, he evenly stepped across the room, timing his
movements with the heavier breathing to mask them.

A man rose from the near side of
the room, then another. They stood there facing him in the darkness,
fully aware of his presence.

'Lights.' called one of them. A
lantern was produced and Hern had chance to see the room he had
entered.

His instincts had served him
correctly, there were seven of them and they were all facing him now
in various states of grogginess.

'You are armed,' the man said to
him. 'State your purpose here before we call the guards.'

It was in that simple statement
that Hern's mind began to race. This man would not refer to the
guards in third person if he counted himself amongst them, it would
appear that these men were slaves.

'I am Hern,' he said. 'I came
here to kill you, it appears I don't need to.'

'You were the one that fought The
Hermit in the arena, the one that talks to lizards,' another one of
the men said. Hern had been recognised, from the tone of the man's
voice it didn't sound like a positive development so he chose to
ignore it.

'You are not guards, I have no
quarrel with you. The rest of the men on your floor are dead, I plan
to continue killing men until I come to Dyson. Do you really object
to that?'

The man's eyes narrowed, he
seemed to be the leader of the group.

'We are B-Company, what's in it
for us?'

The potential reason came to him
as quickly. 'I will kill the guards and the members of A-company. You
will assume control of Greyhawk to whatever end you please. You may
want to consider ambushing the Urtaka pulling the cage and ride back
to the Empire.'

He let the offer hang in the air,
if these men were B-Company then their life still wasn't worth living
in this terrible place. He just hoped they'd snap up the opportunity.

They all seemed to look to this
battered man that was speaking on their behalf, he seemed a leader of
sorts. The silence as he measured up Hern was palpable, he couldn't
risk cutting off his emotional reception lest he come across as
untrustworthy at this crucial moment.

'If you can kill A-Company and
the rest of the guards, what's to say you won't come back for us?'

He smiled back at B-Company's
leader in what he hoped was a reassuring way, he sensed great
mistrust coming off him in waves but it had been dampened by the hope
that still lay in the man's heart. He need just dangle it a little
closer.

'Should I succeed I will mount my
lizard and ride off never to bother you again, killing Dyson and his
cronies is a matter of honour to me, there is no honour in killing
slaves.'

He worried that his use of the
word slave may turn them sour, there was a resignation in his voice
when he had said it, many of them had caught that.

The man smiled back at him. 'Come
back here covered in blood, then we'll talk.'

Hern nodded, he'd come back and
kill them later.

H
e froze at
the sound of his door opening, turning in his makeshift bed so as to
confirm it wasn't his imagination, a small trickle of light bled into
the room and then the door shut. The resulting noise was barely
audible, someone clearly didn't want Jimmy to know they were there.

Anxiety gripped him as he
listened to the man breathing, he tried his best to mimic sleep
without knowing why. The intruder took a quiet step forward, causing
Jimmy's heart to leap.

'I can hear you,' Jimmy said to
the figure in the darkness. 'Why have you entered my room?'

'I have come to kill you,' the
man replied in a heavy accent.

Jimmy tensed, he had been given
no weapon and this assassin was undoubtedly armed for the task. Why
would anyone want to kill him quietly when they could so easily have
done so already without subterfuge?

'I can feel your fear, it screams
at me and asks me why I must end you specifically. Do not take it
personally, it is a matter of honour that I must kill you all. I have
been exhuming the other members of this fort for hours now.'

The words struck him cold. 'You
killed them all?' The entire of C and B-Company, all the guards.
Dead.

'You thought a Je'daran Master
would not take retribution against all those who failed to aid him?'

He had no idea what the words
meant but he recognised the voice. It was the foreigner that had been
taken away by the lizard creature into the desert. The one that had
shoved him against the door and threatened him. Jimmy balled his
fists, determined that he wasn't going to go down without a fight. He
then found he was shaking uncontrollably with fear, what kind of
fight could he hope to put up?

Then an idea struck him, if this
foreigner had spent time in Sah'kel then surely he knew who...

'Yalem's room is opposite mine,'
Jimmy bluffed, his voice cracking in terror. 'If I scream, he will
come for you.'

The foreigner laughed, causing
Jimmy's brief hope to die. 'A worthy attempt at subterfuge, yet
entirely transparent to one such as I.' He eased across the room,
dragging the tip of a blade along the floor.

'No, you cannot deceive me. There
is no escape for you, my retribution must be absolute.'

Jimmy leapt out of bed and ran to
the other end of the room in a panic he knew was ultimately futile.
He grabbed at the stone at the sides of his window in desperation but
they wouldn't budge, it was too small to stick his head through, let
alone escape out of. He faced his fate and slid down the wall in
despair. So much for his fighting spirit.

'Your termination will be swift
and painless if you hold still. I am loathe to make the young suffer,
you were in a most unfortunate place at the worst possible time.
Perhaps your crimes warranted such an ending, we shall never know.'

Jimmy could taste the foul stench
of the man, how did he survive the desert? Was this all some terrible
nightmare? He looked down at his hands, they were frantically
pinching his arms in the hope that he would wake. He had been too
scared to notice.

A beam of light shot into the
room as the door swung open, a dark figure stood illuminated in the
doorway and walked into the room without preamble.

Jimmy's would-be assassin turned
to face the newcomer and froze, the words he mouthed were barely
audible.

'It's you.'

The figure nodded in recognition
of this and continued to walk into the room, as if waiting to see
what the armed man would do. Jimmy still couldn't make out who he
was, blinded by the light coming from the hallway.

'Do you not speak, stranger? I
urge you to come no closer in defence of this boy.'

Jimmy felt the cold touch of
steel pressed flat against his neck, the man appeared to be using the
flat of his blade for some reason. It dawned on him that The Hermit
had come back to rescue him, a brief hope flickered in his heart. Not
that this stopped Jimmy's head from screaming and crying at the
prospect of death. He choked it down for fear of it getting him
killed.

The Hermit made no further
movement toward them, waiting once more but clearly blocking the only
escape route.

'It appears we have reached an
impasse, my silent friend. I am already aware of your skills and that
you could overpower me unarmed as you are. You wish me to spare the
life of this boy for whatever dubious personal reasons you have. In
order to do so, I ask you to step away to the far end of this room
and pray until I have made my exit. I shall leave the boy in the
doorway and bother you no further. If this is an amicable agreement
then nod your head, the terms are non-negotiable.'

The stranger nodded, walking over
to the far wall and kneeling into a position of prayer. Jimmy knew
then that should this assassin want to kill him, The Hermit could not
prevent it.

Jimmy found his feet carefully,
not wishing to anger this murderer with any show of defiance. The
ensuing walk across the room was tortuously slow, he kept waiting for
the man to change his mind and execute him in spite of the appearance
of his potential saviour. Once more Jimmy found that the killing blow
never came, he was turned in the door frame and pushed back into the
room with a shove. The door slammed shut behind him and all was
darkness, he heard the sound of a key quickly turning in the lock.

The Hermit rose and hefted a kick
at the door, blowing it off its hinges. He looked down both ends of
the corridor and then sped off to his left.

Jimmy picked himself up and ran
to the doorway, a renewed sense of hope giving his limbs strength to
follow The Hermit. He found the corridor silent and empty, as if no
one had been there.

H
ern
sprinted down the corridor, all measure of control evaporating in the
face of the man who had just foiled his latest exhumation attempt. He
couldn't place what it was about the man's stony silence that got to
him but it invariably removed all conditioning he had imposed upon
himself as if it had never existed.

He
risked a glance over his shoulder, the corridor was free of any
extraneous items that could catch his footing thanks to the
meticulous cleanliness of Dyson. There was no sign of pursuit, he
strained his ears and couldn't make out a second pair of feet
pounding after him.

He
had seen how fast his pursuer had been in his combat in the arena,
there was no doubt in Hern's mind that he could easily replicate that
given the opportunity. Why then was the man so far behind?