The Heresy Within (36 page)

“I don't...” Dance right. Jab. This time there was no block, no parry. Thanquil's sword point sunk deep into the Grinner's chest, past his ribs and into his lung.

The scream of pain turned into a coughing foam of blood but Thanquil wasted no time. He pulled his ball shooting device from his belt, flipped it so he was holding the barrel end and cracked the butt down onto the Grinner's skull with a burst of blessed strength. He felt, heard and saw the man's skull crack open like a rotten egg.

The Grinner went down with a heavy
thud
and moved no more. Thick red blood oozed from the cracked, caved in skull. Heavy drops of red dripped from the butt of the ball shooter. Thanquil stared at it for a moment then wiped it on the Grinner's clothing.

Looking up he saw the Black Thorn still trading blows with Big Mouth. Neither seemed to hold an advantage, both were attacking, blocking, parrying, dodging away. The Black Thorn wore an ugly grin on his face, horrifically mirrored and enlarged on Big Mouth's features.

Thanquil took quick aim with his ball thrower. The merchant's words came back to him, '
Accurate up to ten paces
'. He judged the two men to be fifteen paces away at the very least.

BANG!

Big Mouth screamed and stumbled a step as the metal ball plunged into his arm. A moment later the Black Thorn's axe took off the lower half of his jaw in a spray of blood. Big Mouth hit the ground heavy and Thorn buried his axe deep in the man's chest. The body twitched once and was still. The Black Thorn put one foot on the corpse and pulled his axe free and then buried it in the man's neck, severing the head from the body.

Thanquil walked over to Thorn and the body of the bounty hunter. The Black Thorn was bent over staring at the corpse. As Thanquil watched he stood up straight, spat at the lifeless Big Mouth and kicked some dust over him.

“More of a burial than the bastard deserves.”

Thanquil almost asked how the Black Thorn had known Big Mouth but he caught himself. Using the compulsion so much on the Grinner had left him flushed, almost euphoric. He wanted to keep using it, needed to feel the rush again. He could feel his hands shaking and buried them in the pockets of his coat.

The Black Thorn was staring at him, that all too familiar blank, expressionless look on his face. “Good shot,” he growled as he walked off.

Thanquil nodded once in reply. At fifteen paces it was blind luck he hadn't hit the Black Thorn instead of Big Mouth but the sell-sword didn't need to know that.

The Boss limped over towards them through the dust in the road. He still held his axe in his right hand, his left was held across his chest and his breathing looked hard, laboured and painful. “Good work,” the southerner wheezed at them.

The Black Thorn nodded. “You did in Little Harry. Boy was near as strong as Bones as I hear it.”

The Boss nodded. “You ain't wrong, Thorn.”

“We missed all the fun?” Swift's voice called out across the street. Jezzet strode along beside him, her face as concerned as Swift's was unconcerned, though he carried his bow, already strung, in his left hand.

“Where the fuck were ya?” the Boss asked with a cough.

“Oh ya know. Breakfast with the magistrate.” Swift grinned.

“You alright?” Jezzet asked Thanquil. He nodded once in reply. Truth was he didn't trust himself to speak lest questions start spewing forth.

“Right,” the Boss said and looked around. “Where is he?”

“Not coming. Nor any of his guards.” Swift sounded as cheerful as always. “Ya got me ma' ta thank fer that. Seems she's got the ol' man by his stones. Still, reckon it might be best ta get gone quicker rather than not.”

The Boss coughed and near doubled over holding his chest. When he stood back up straight, a dark grimace made his face even darker. “We get ourselves ta the main gate. Bones, Henry an' Green can meet us there. Swift, you're leadin' the way from here. We cross the Jorl first chance we get. Good?”

“Aye.”

“Good.”

There was a dull
thud
and the Boss went to one knee and then collapsed on the ground among the dust. A red feathered arrow sprouted out of his broad back just below his right shoulder blade. Thanquil was still looking for the source of the arrow when he heard Swift's bowstring
thrum
.

They could hear the Jorl long before they could see it. Its thunder echoed across the plains for miles. Always seemed odd to Jez that water could have a sound but there was no denying the noise of the mighty river Jorl, its voice was as loud and as angry as all the Gods combined.

It was four days after Bittersprings when they reached the river. It shouldn't have taken four days but the Boss was slowing them down. At the gates of Bittersprings the big man had collapsed for the third time so Jez had un-shouldered her pack and set to treating the wound.

Two of his ribs were cracked, she was certain of that. Seemed he'd taken a staff hit to the chest. That wasn't so bad in itself, given time cracked ribs healed, hurt like hell but they healed all the same. The arrow wound in his back was a different matter altogether. It was in a dangerous position, too dangerous to push through so Jezzet had to cut it out. It had gone deep too and, though it hadn't hit any vital spots, the Boss was getting weaker.

At first he'd seemed alright; shaken and injured, in pain and in need of rest but able to go on. They waited an hour at the gates until Bones turned up with Henry and Green appeared. Henry seemed to be caught between part anger and part fear though Jez couldn't decide whether the little woman was angrier with the man who'd shot the Boss or Jezzet for patching him up.

The archer was one of the bounty hunters. Betrim identified him as the Saint, Little Harry's big brother. No doubt he had feathered the Boss to take revenge for the southerner gutting his little brother. He'd paid for his vengeance though; Swift's first arrow took the Saint in his gut, the second went straight through his face. Again Swift had proved he was as fast as his name suggested.

About ten paces from the bridge Bones put the Boss down.
The giant has been half carrying, half dragging him for two days now. Strong as he is there's a limit even to that one's strength.
As if to punctuate her thought Bones sat down next to the Boss and his eyelids drooped closed.

“We need to rest,” Jezzet said as she approached the Boss, intending to have a look at his wound.
Might be the dressings could do with changing.

“What the fuck do you know?” Henry spat at her, stepping in between Jez and the Boss. Jezzet stopped and stared at the smaller woman. Henry just stared on back.

There's murder in that one's eyes, Jez. Even more than usual.
She backed away from Henry and moved to join the Arbiter.

Thanquil was stood a good two paces back from the edge of the cliff side that dropped into the Jorl, he was leaning forwards and craning his neck to try and see over the edge. Jezzet moved up beside him and gave him a very slight nudge in the back. The Arbiter near jumped out of his skin and hurried back a few more paces.

“You alright?” she asked him, grinning.

He laughed. “Not any more. That is a very big river.”

Only half a mile across here I'd say. This is where the Jorl is slimmest.

“Scared of a little water?” she teased with a smile.

“Can't say as I blame you,” the Black Thorn put in. He edged only slightly closer to the cliff side than Thanquil had. “There's... things in that water, ain't right. Drownin' don't strike me as a good way ta go either. Better 'an burnin', I reckon, but still I could think of better ways ta die.”

In bed, drunk and being fucked sounds good to me.

“How about it, Arbiter? How would you like to die?” Jezzet asked.

“That sounds half a threat, Jez. Truth is I'd rather not die at all but given the choice... with a bottle of wine and a woman atop me.”

Jezzet grinned but it was the Black Thorn who spoke first. “Ya know what, Arbiter. I'm startin' ta like the way you think.”

“Did I ever tell any of you about the time I swam the Jorl?” Swift said. He was stood right at the edge of the cliff side staring down at the waters.

Liar. No one swims the Jorl. I've seen men try, seen those same men die.

“I was still a boy,” Swift continued heedless that no one seemed to care, “no older 'an Green is now.”

“Fuck you, Swift.” Green had been brooding in sullen, hostile silence ever since Bittersprings. When he did talk he was always confrontational, always spoiling for a fight. Jezzet didn't know why and didn't much care to know.

“Walked down the river on this very cliff side, passed this very bridge. Took me near a month an' I was set upon by bandits at least five times, I killed them all of course but that's another story. When I made to the very start of the Jorl where the Toyne and the Whitewash come together I slipped out of all my clothes save my undergarments, I could go fishing with my cock if truth be told but I didn't feel much like having fish nibblin' away down there.”

“They'd have ta find it first, Swift,” Thorn said.

“Wouldn't be too hard, Black Thorn. It's the big thing attached ta the giant stones; think yours but... well actually yours might not be the best of examples. Think Green's but ten times the size. So I stripped down an' plunged into the Jorl. Cold waters the Jorl, despite the heat 'round here. Cold an' fast an' dangerous but not near so fast nor so dangerous as Swift. Took me near a week ta swim the length. I dived off waterfalls, dodged round the rocks that cause the water ta turn white. Even had ta fight off one of those bloody water lizards. Longer than Bones is tall it was, with more teeth than he has bones an' it was easily twice as angry as Henry on one of her bad days.

“The beast dragged me down right ta the bottom of the Jorl an' there we fought an' wrestled; it with its teeth an' claws an' me with nothin' but my hands... an' a bloody great rock I picked off the bottom. Crushed its skull with that rock I did an' ate well that night I don't mind saying.

“Finished my swim not ten miles from this spot, just down river,” he gave a vague wave in the direction the Jorl was flowing. “Then I had a good two hundred foot climb on solid cliff, just like this one, 'fore I made it out. Girls of Bittersprings were so impressed I had five of 'em in my bed that night.” Swift winked at Jezzet as he said the last.

“Ya know,” said Bones from the ground, still sat beside the Boss. “I half expected that one ta end with you makin' off with a mermaid.”

“A mermaid...” Swift mused. “I like that, reckon I can work it in fer my next tellin'.”

The Boss started to push himself to his feet and almost collapsed until Bones caught him and helped him the rest of the way up. His eyes were sunken, his flesh clammy and he swayed on his feet even with Bones there. “Check the bridge, Swift. We follow you across.”

Swift looked at the bridge then turned to Jezzet. “If I should fall an' die. Think of me when ya with the witch hunter.”

Jez saw Thanquil flush red but she just gave Swift a blank stare. “I'd rather think of Henry.”

Swift grinned. “Now there's a thought.” With that he turned and started across the bridge. For all his boasting and bravado he went slow, testing each wooden plank before putting his weight upon it.

It was a good hour before Swift made it all the way across the bridge. Jez could just about make him out waving the all clear from the other side. By then the Boss didn't even look strong enough to stand, let alone walk a half mile across a swaying collection of wooden planks held together by fraying rope. Neither did he look up for giving any more orders.

“Bones, take the Boss across,” Thorn said. “We'll move across in two's. After you, me an' the Arbiter will cross, then Henry an' Jez. Green, you watch the rear, come across last.”

“You ain't in charge,” Green spat.

“Jus' do it, Green,” Bones said as he heaved the Boss to his feet. “You can piss an' whinge 'bout it on the other side.” With that he put one cautious foot on the bridge, sighed and started across, supporting the Boss with one arm while holding white knuckled onto the bridge with the other.

It took them even longer than it had taken Swift and the sun was high and hot by the time it came to Thanquil and Thorn's turn to cross. The far side of the Jorl sported a forest that crept all the way to the cliff side and the shade the trees would provide was looking more than a little tempting.
I'd happily swim the Jorl myself for a nap under those trees.

“You first, Arbiter.” The Black Thorn waved at the bridge

“Can I trust you to watch my back, I wonder.”

“I ain't gonna stab ya but the crossin' will give us some time fer a chat.”

The Arbiter nodded and started across the bridge, the Black Thorn followed close behind. Jezzet watched them go for a while then sat down to wait. She couldn't help but notice Henry staring at her.

When it came time for Jezzet to cross she hesitated. Henry strutted up to the bridge, snorted out a laugh at her and began her crossing. Jez gave the little woman a good twenty paces head start before stepping onto the bridge herself. The wooden planks beneath her feet felt anything but safe and with every step the swaying was worse.

At least there's only a slight breeze, Jez. Trying to cross this thing in anything more would be suicide.

She edged along, one step, one plank of wood at a time. Her hand tight on the rope, never letting go. It wasn't a wide bridge, two metres at a stretch and here and there a plank was missing. Jezzet looked down.
How many people have fallen to their deaths from here?
It was not a comforting thought. She considered closing her eyes as she went but that would just make things worse. If a plank did go she wouldn't see it, she'd just drop, opening her eyes just in time to see air rushing past her before...

Stop it, Jez. Don't think about it. Just keep walking. One foot after the other, slow is fine, slow is good. Don't look down. Trust your footing. Keep walking.