Escana (24 page)

'It's
been a long time since I have felt any pain, your malcontent put an
end to that. I now seek to exact retribution.'

Garth
summed up his options with the quiet calm of someone who knows
they're probably about to die. He glanced around the room, he could
possibly make a grab for one of the swords lying in the pile, but
would more than likely impale himself on something if he dove for it,
his smithy didn't afford him much space to manoeuvre in. This was all
assuming he wasn't cut to ribbons before he could move. He couldn't
help but recall what this thing had done to Thom's arm in a matter of
seconds.

'I
know what you're thinking. You're entirely wrong,' El-Vador said,
humour sparkling in his voice. The steel was lifted from his back,
Garth turned on impulse, there was nothing there. He picked his way
through the room carefully, wondering if he was being toyed with.
When his search revealed no further intrusion he started to inspect
the workload for the night. The mound of battered arms loomed in the
corner of the room ominously. He picked up a gauntlet and nearly
dropped it in surprise. He rummaged through the pile to be certain,
still hearing the creature's laughter echoing in his head. Everything
was fully repaired.

J
immy's
eyes lit up as he leapt onto the huge tree stump. 'We're nearly
there,' he crowed, gesturing at the bend in the road.

Ella
smiled wearily. 'Brace yourself Jakob. He's going to talk your ear
off right up to the Justice's mansion.'

Jakob
chose to ignore the jest. The prospect of seeking an audience with
Lord Kelgrimm briefly soured their mirth but the foreboding vanished
as they rounded the corner.

Rolling
pastures stretched out for miles along the coastline, linked together
by a web of smaller roads branching off from the main route. They
were but a minor distraction from the deep blue panorama of the
horizon. They had finally reached the ocean.

Clusters
of housing dotted the landscape as the road sloped down to sea level,
winding steadily towards large stone walls that jutted out dominantly
in the distance.

As
they drew closer Jimmy revelled in the smallest details lifted
straight from his childhood. The crying gulls and passing carts of
kelp were drenched with nostalgia and steeped his senses in a
childish jubilation that brought a spring to his step. Jakob couldn't
help but know this because of the amount of time Jimmy spent
explaining everything to them. Both he and Ella were too drained to
do anything but humour him as his skipping and youthful grin became
increasingly irritating.

The
gates grew more ominous to Jakob's eyes with each passing step. What
if they had avoided pursuit only for it to ride ahead and inform the
Urian guard? What if this bandit had been unable to stop them after
all?

'So
what do you think, Jakob?'

He
realised that Jimmy had indeed been giving him a running commentary
the whole time.

'I'm
more worried about that guard than anything else,' he said, pointing
ahead at the unfriendly looking bearded man with a spear.

Jimmy
raised an eyebrow at this. 'There weren't any guards here last time.'
He shrugged eventually. 'Perhaps it's just to stop any illegal
trade.'

His
musings failed to inspire confidence in Jakob. Ella had gone very
quiet as they came to the gate.

'Halt,'
the guard said simply, barring their entrance without further
preamble.

'We
seek an audience with Lord Kelgrimm,' Jimmy said.

The
guard chuckled mirthlessly. 'Doesn't everyone? I'd love an audience
with him to discuss why I've been placed out front to deal with fools
and vagabonds,' he spat out the last word with particular distaste.

'So
the Justice cannot dispense his namesake?'

The
man eyed Jimmy's questioning with disinterest. 'There are too many
that seek justice, Lord Kelgrimm cannot attend to them all.'

Jakob
shrugged. 'That's quite fine, it's clear you're doing your job
correctly. Stop quizzing him brother, otherwise we shall never find
time to sell the woman.'

Everyone
turned to face him in confusion. 'This young lady is in my
possession, she is my business with Urial.'

'No,
Jakob, Don't!' Jimmy shouted, looking aghast. Ella didn't betray her
thoughts.

The
guard's face crooked up a smile. 'You are aware that sex trafficking
is entirely illegal here are you not?'

Jakob
realised his error now and tried to put on his best confused frown.
'It is? In Daelovia it is legal, and as a guard it is your sworn duty
to sample every piece of the purest merchandise that passes through
these walls is it not?'

The
guard's look soured. 'Or I could just haul you to the dungeons for
attempting to sell her to me.' As he advanced on Jakob, Jimmy raised
his arms and swiftly cut in. 'I think you misunderstand my brother.
This is not an attempt at trafficking, we Daelovians just have
different customs and are merely passing through to the port and wish
to gain entrance by whatever means necessary.'

The
guard's disposition didn't improve any. 'I have no use for your
means, nor do I see any reason not to lock you up.'

Another
guard approached the gate now, a grin on his face. 'What seems to be
the problem here then?'

The
first guard gave him an annoyed look. 'Traffickers, three of them.
I'm going to get a few lads from the barracks and we'll take them
down to the prisons.'

The
new guard nodded at him genially as he departed, there was something
entirely unwholesome about the grin he flashed Ella.

T
he
tunnel was coated in a thick residue that muffled the thud of their
feet and threatened to hinder their escape. Hoarse breaths from those
around him told Gadtor that his men were coming to the limit of their
stamina, all excluding the indomitable Hermit who silently led their
escape.

The
break in had gone flawlessly up to a point, as they often did. This
was no chase through the cobbled streets into the night, their escape
offered no respite and had turned into a mad dash in one direction.
He expected to meet spears at the end of it if the opposition had any
idea of the sewer structure. The entire night had been spent trying
to lose them in the earlier tunnels but a number of them seemed to
have stuck doggedly to the task. They must have caught a glimpse of
who it was they were chasing.

The
walls started to close in, he knew it was a matter of moments before
they'd have to negotiate the grate covering the outlet. He just hoped
they had bought enough time to get clear of it.

Someone
slipped up ahead and sounded a curse as his comrades leapt over him,
this wasn't what they needed. The man wasn't well known to him but he
hated leaving people behind, the desperate faces of those he had
plagued him every night.

Turning
to face the fallen soldier he caught a wicked gleam in his eye and
instinctively jumped back as the man dove toward him, dagger in hand.
'Lord Kelgrimm will be most pleased when I greet his guards with your
head.'

The
others had run on without looking, it was common practice for Gadtor
to fall back to help those who struggled. Cursing once more, he knew
that he had been exploited and at the worst possible opportunity. He
was unarmed, exhausted and without any hope of rescue.

His
one saving grace was that the turncoat was also weary from the long
chase, his lurches toward him were murderous but ungraceful. Gadtor
kept giving ground in the hope that his assailant would expose
himself in the slippery conditions and poor light. His fear of
falling was compounded by the knowledge that the man was probably
waiting for the same opening, sadly it was his only chance.

A
strange stalemate ensued, Gadtor knew it was one he couldn't afford,
if he was waylaid any longer the guards would be upon him. While any
attempt at fleeing would find him with a steel hilt deep in the back.

He
heard splashing sounds from both sides, either his ears were playing
tricks on him or someone had returned.

The
Hermit leapt into the fray, disarming the man and knocking him from
his feet with a strike of his palm. The turncoat didn't get up.

Gadtor
smiled his approval as if he were a passing friend he had the
pleasure of bumping into. 'Do they have the grating open?'

The
Hermit nodded silently, beckoning him forward as the splashing feet
started to grow louder.

They
leapt forward with a renewed vigour and heard how close their
opponents had come from the loud shout as one of them tripped over
the prone body they had just left behind. Gadtor's mistrust had been
vindicated once again, had this man ingratiated himself any further
he would have given away the location of the Black Quail lair in a
flash.

If
The Hermit had sensed the same thing he gave no indication of it, his
uncanny movement and his seemingly effortless propulsion continued to
confound Gadtor, even in the heat of flight.

They
rounded the final bend and put on an extra burst of pace to clear the
remnants of the sewer, it was only then that Gadtor noticed the
outline cut in the torchlight, he had told nobody to wait.

The
knee compacted his breath and bowled him over into the raw sewage, he
gagged at the rancid smell that filled his lungs and reeled back as
dead eyes stared at him.

He
staggered to his feet in numb shock, the blood pooling around him was
not his own. Fifteen of his finest men lay in various poses of terror
strewn around the mouth of the sewer.

There
was no forest of spears to greet him, nor were there any calls to
yield or to halt, a methodical devastation had taken place with the
figure standing nearby as the only witness.

Confusion
struck him then as he sank back down to his knees, he felt a strange
sense of exclusion sweeping over him. The silhouette and The Hermit
were standing next to each other in complete silence.

'Such
a mysterious figure you cut fair stranger, yet I am one that is more
than able to peel away the layers of pretence and gaze into the very
core of your being.' It gestured flamboyantly, a bright and terrible
laugh carrying over the air. 'So what's it to be this time? A
terrified child shielding his thoughts? An emotional invalid that
secluded themselves from the horrors of decision? Or perhaps this
once there will be a respite from the drudgery and I will have a pawn
to mould.' The laughter that followed cut out so sharply that it hurt
Gadtor's ears, the silhouette's voice had risen a pitch in response
to something. 'Well this is something I hadn't anticipated, so be it.
You shall remain in this place until I have completed the inane tasks
set before me by the almighty Kelgrimm the just. Then I shall crack
you open and you will languish in your failure.'

The
figure turned toward Gadtor now, seemingly gliding over the
wasteland. 'Your companion is stubborn to the extreme, his thoughts
are compartmentalised to an intricate degree. Firstly though I must
request of you the cartographic creation in your possession, pray do
not make this an onerous task. I have sated my entertainment on your
men, it would be a waste of energy to take the required item by
force.'

It
took a moment for Gadtor to comprehend what was being asked of him,
the curious tongue of the figure was largely alien to him. The tone
was both mocking and sarcastic. He spat blood in its face.

This
elicited a sigh, the impending wrath he had hoped to stir never
arrived, instead the strange voice came to him again.

'You
are not worth wasting any more words on, I shall end this now.'

Gadtor
sprang at the creature mid-sentence and its hand darted underneath
his jerkin and relieved him of the map with a deft grace.

He
sprawled into the sewage again and twisted round in fury at this pick
pocket.

The
Hermit took a step forward. The figure looked up at him, its calm
vanishing.

'You
were meant to stay in place mysterious child, now do as I command
you.' It thrust a gaunt arm out toward The Hermit with palm upward.

The
Hermit took another step forward.

If
the initial movement had rattled it before, the second step sent a
shudder down its body, yet in spite of this Gadtor noted it had also
cracked a smile. Its face had become visible and the vagueness had
seemingly been dropped at the sight of this incursion. The figure
seemed more substantial than it had previously, eagerness gripping
it. Though Gadtor's eyes may have tricked him as he adjusted to the
dying light. This wasn't a human, of that he was certain.

'This
is a strange encounter. A rogue talent so far from Levanin? I think
not. If you are what you claim you are then you must also aware of
what I am, cease your posturing or I shall dispose of you.' It held
up a second palm and pressed into the air, pale limbs taught with
tension.

The
Hermit started walking forward quicker, several shuffling paces in
quick succession as if he were straining against something.