Stranger of Tempest: Book One of The God Fragments (8 page)

Lynx narrowed his eyes, expecting some sort of joke, but the man didn’t seem interested in laughing at him, just carried on with the remaining few until everything was stowed neatly. Only the fact that a few others also still had their belongings told him that this wasn’t some sort of recruit hazing, but before he could ask what was going on the wagons were pronounced ready and a variety of horses were led out of the stables. He guessed Anatin had already been poured into the caravan, given the snoring that was coming from it, while Payl mounted a beautiful grey horse and waved the company forward, singling Lynx out once she’d done so and beckoning to him.

He trotted over to her, idly wondering if he was expected to salute, but the woman just started talking as soon as he was close enough to hear.

‘We got a commission this morning. A Mistress Simbly who wants her husband’s murder avenged.’

Lynx blinked and dredged up the widow’s image from when he’d met her the previous day. ‘Guess that doesn’t surprise me,’ he said, ‘but don’t we have a job?’

‘The money’s good and the wagons are slow.’

He nodded. ‘So you’re sending them on ahead. Guess that makes sense, it’s not a long diversion if we’re on horses. Maybe just a night.’

‘There’s a horse for you,’ she said, pointing towards the stable. ‘The one with the white forelock. You have battle experience?’

Lynx nodded.

‘There’ll be seven of us. Better you guide us and hold back than get in the way. I’m told we outgun them, but I don’t want to get in any sort of fight.’

‘I led a strike company, once upon a time.’

Payl regarded him in silence for a few moments. ‘Commando, eh? You willing to take orders, then? From a woman too? There aren’t any in your armies, are there?’

‘Doubt it. Not been back in a while, though. But I’ll take orders unless they’re stupid or cruel, doesn’t matter who gives them.’

She gave a half-smile. ‘About as good as I’ll get from anyone round here. Some of this lot struggle if I just use long words. Mount up.’

Payl turned away to find five other figures with horses, all in the process of tying their belongings to the saddles. ‘You all ready?’

Lynx looked them over. They were an elite group, if their cards were anything to go by. Teshen stood at their fore, a grizzled veteran beside him wearing the Stranger of Sun. Behind them were Kas, a thin disease-scarred man who wore the Diviner of Tempest, and a broad woman with permanent crooked smile thanks to the flame-scar down one cheek. She wore the Jester of Snow.

None of them spoke, they just finished with their packs and mounted, waiting for orders. Lynx was the last to do so but he wasted no time in pulling himself up into the saddle and adjusting his weapons so they sat comfortably for riding.

‘Right, let’s be quick about this and back to the company,’ Payl announced. ‘Lynx, the lake-road towards Tambal, right?’

He nodded. ‘Maybe less than a day’s ride to where we were ambushed, if we push the horses hard. Road was bloody slow going by wagon.’

‘If we get close enough by mid-afternoon we’ll take the last part on foot, then. Kas and Teshen will sniff them out. We get it done by nightfall and start back in the morning. Get moving.’

The seven mercenaries made good time under the warm morning sunshine as they retraced Lynx’s route back towards Tambal. As much as he distrusted the Militant Orders, even Lynx was happy to admit he was among the many who benefited from some of their efforts. The largest Orders all maintained dozens of highways across the continent, on top of the network of vast, ancient canals humanity had inherited, and trade flourished as a result. It meant the Orders felt they had the right to stick their noses into the business of anyone using either, but outside the cities the rule of law was generally the simple maths of guns anyway.

The road itself was straight and wide until it reached the tip of a long lake, branching left and right around the calm clear waters. Lynx could see white-faced ducks out on the water and swifts darting through the air high above, but dominating it all was a slender tower of mottled grey stone. Payl called a halt there to let the horses drink and Lynx allowed himself a moment to stand at the lakeside and enjoy the view.

The tower rose directly out of the centre of the lake, perhaps half a mile offshore and huge by mortal standards – a relic of the Duegar civilisation that had doubtlessly been scaled and picked clean of artefacts centuries ago. There were strange protrusions and platforms jutting at random from its sides and narrow windows that seemed not to conform to any regular design. Given Duegar cities were built mostly underground, Lynx couldn’t help but wonder at what was hidden beneath those idyllic waters.

There was a stark contrast between the two choices ahead of them. The wide well-maintained road of chalky stone continued left around the long edge of the lake, encompassing a dozen miles and a few villages, while the right-hand track was swiftly swallowed by the dark expanse of forest that engulfed the hills on that shore. Lynx knew they were taking the darker path, one that wound through the trees time and again to avoid the steepest ground before it left the lake behind and swung off east to the town of Tambal. It had been difficult going with wagons, but Master Simbly had at least been right that it remained a quicker journey than the better road.

His moment of peace was broken when footfalls idled up beside him; the plague-scarred Diviner of Tempest, Lynx guessed without turning, given the smell of tobacco hanging in the air.

A tight twist of paper was waved across his view. ‘Smoke?’

Lynx shook his head. ‘Bit early.’

The man shrugged and raised a coal pot, opening it and blowing on the embers inside before using it to light his cigarette. ‘Suit yerself,’ he declared with a satisfied breath. ‘Name’s Llaith.’

He tapped the embroidered badge on his breast, the design faded but done with skill once upon a time. It portrayed a black woman with white hair flying in the breeze, her cape quartered black and white, with a trident in her hands and a lightning flash in two corners of the card – Diviner of Tempest.

‘Quite a sight, eh?’

‘Aye.’

‘It’s Lynx, right? You’re Tempest’s newest?’

‘For the time being.’

Llaith sucked hard on the cigarette and turned to Lynx. ‘Oh?’ he croaked through a puff of smoke.

‘I needed a job that got me out of town,’ Lynx said with a shrug. ‘Ain’t making too many promises on how long I stay after the job’s done. Never had much love for mercenary work.’

The man gave a snort. ‘I’ll try not to get too attached, then,’ he said, returning his attention to the tower in the lake.

Lynx turned, immediately wary, but the man’s face betrayed no real offence so Lynx forced himself to swallow his caution. ‘Might be hard,’ he hazarded. ‘I’m pretty lovable.’

That made Llaith chuckle. ‘Don’t you take Kas’s affections to mean you’re lovable. Our girl treats sex like she’s in training for a shot at the title.’

Before Lynx could respond the pair of them received a cuff around the head. Lliath growled as his cigarette was jerked into the water, but Lynx barely caught himself in time, dagger half out of its sheath before Kas’s laugh stopped him.

‘Break’s over, boys,’ she announced, ‘so quit your gossiping and get back in the saddle.’

‘Piss on you, Kas,’ Llaith muttered, ‘you ain’t in charge here, ya bossy bitch, remember? Diviner trumps Madman so far’s I recall.’

Behind them all, Payl swung herself up into her saddle. ‘Break’s over, boys,’ she announced without looking at Kas. ‘Enough talking, all o’ you. Get back to it and, Llaith, ditch that bloody coal before we’re into the forest. If they smell it on the wind I’ll shove a burner so far up your arse you’ll be lighting your smokes with that instead.’

Llaith gave an amiable nod and produced a second cigarette with a conjurer’s flourish. He lit it and emptied the ember pot on the ground before scrambling back into the saddle, well aware that Payl’s stern eyes were watching him the whole time.

They pushed on in silence and Lynx found his eyes drifting towards the tower again and again through a screen of trees hunched over the water’s edge. Its height was impossible for him to gauge, but certainly far taller than any structure he’d ever seen. The still and silent presence lurked on the fringe of his sight, while the dark forest on his other side seemed to draw him inexorably in.

There were few Duegar ruins in So Han. The bulk were to the north and east, dotted around the inland seas, inlets, sounds, rivers and Duegar canals that were the lifeblood of trade in the continent. Shadows Deep, which they would hopefully be skirting in a few weeks, was probably larger than every combined ruin in the whole of So Han and it was by no means the biggest or most wondrous in the world. Lynx had no desire to investigate any of them, those dead places of a lost race that remained dangerous both by accident and design. He’d known a few mercenaries who’d worked at one time or another with relic hunters, but only the crazed signed up more than once or twice, despite the rewards.

With regular breaks to rest the horses, they were well into the afternoon by the time Payl called a halt. Easily long enough for him to observe his companions without looking overly rude. Payl wasn’t a natural leader, he thought; she’d been pushed into it and obviously disliked command, despite being good at it by Lynx’s reckoning. Having seen Anatin helplessly drunk, Lynx could well imagine the worth of her sober and capable manner to counterbalance Anatin’s uncertain flamboyance.

Kas and Llaith engaged in quiet, good-natured banter for much of the journey, mostly about the surly, muscular man called Varain who wore the Stranger of Sun badge, while Teshen rode ahead and barely spoke a word. The woman with the crooked smile was called Tyn, Lynx discovered once they halted. She had brought up the rear of the group the whole time, apparently preferring her own company.

At Payl’s order, the seven dismounted and led their horses down an overgrown rabbit path until they were hidden from the road. There they hobbled the mounts and left them in Llaith’s charge while Teshen and Kas produced recurved bows from their saddle holsters and set off through the undulating forest. Once the two scouts were at the crest of the first rise, Payl gestured for the remaining four to follow, Lynx, Tyn and Varain keeping close to her heels.

They were comfortably short of where the attack had happened so for a while they moved as quickly as the terrain permitted, but after an hour Payl raised a hand to stop her group. She crouched and squinted forward. It took Lynx a moment to pick Teshen out from the undergrowth, so he only caught the last of the man’s gestures, but it was no signal code he’d seen before anyway.

‘Kas has found ’em,’ Payl called softly back. ‘Lookout by the road, camp further down – Teshen will deal with the lookout.’

‘What’s the order?’ Lynx asked.

Payl glanced back at him, her face unreadable. ‘Employer wasn’t too specific there, she just asked for justice.’

‘We killing the bastards or not?’ Varain growled.

‘Piles giving you gyp again, Varain?’ Tyn asked.

‘You’re the only pain in my arse, woman.’

She smirked. ‘You’d love it if I was.’

‘Quiet, the pair of you,’ Payl said despairingly. ‘Order depends on what we find there. I want to take them unawares, quick and bloodless if we can. Varain and Tyn, on my right. Once we’ve got the target, take their right flank and follow my lead. I doubt they’ll put up a fight if they find a mage-gun in their faces. I’ll keep a burner in the pipe just in case, rest of you load icers.’

Lynx allowed himself a small moment of relief as he pulled his mage-gun from the sheath on his back. Too many mercenaries would just kill everyone in sight – it wasn’t like there was any law in these parts to object – but Payl clearly had no desire for blood.

He clicked open the chamber of his gun and slipped a slender brass cartridge from his cartridge case. One end was wadded tight, holding a porcelain bullet inside, while the other was capped with fired clay and marked with the runic shape denoting ‘ice’. When he pulled the trigger, the hammer would crack the clay and break the magic-charged glass core against the porcelain. That would shatter into dust, which for reasons Lynx didn’t understand was the best medium for the magic to explode forwards faster than any arrow. Icers had greater range and accuracy than other types – powerful enough to kill at almost half a mile – but lacking the terrifying destruction of a burner or sparker.

Lynx closed the gun up again, hands moving out of habit, and stood ready until Payl signalled for them to advance. Unwelcome memories intruded as the group slipped forward through the trees, moving quiet and swift towards Kas. His army career had been relatively short-lived, but the So Han elite commandos had fought this way – tearing a quick and efficient path through the unprepared militias they faced. From the outset, Lynx had learned in a baptism of fire as months of intense fighting had carved them a path hundreds of miles east across the continent. By the time the main army had caught up with their progress, most of the fighting was done and the defenders already shocked into capitulation.

Payl led the way, with Varain and Tyn slipping to the right so they were twenty yards away by the time she reached Kas. The bluff, light-hearted woman of the previous night was all business now, briefly describing the camp up ahead without a second glance at Lynx.

‘Hundred yards, I count five. No watch, just the lookout on the road. Tents in a hollow, small fire burning. Bracken all around. Teshen or I could get within ten yards without being seen. There’s a big oak up ahead, follow me and you’ll be close enough.’

Payl nodded and gestured forward with her gun. It was a heavy, blockish weapon – one that could be used as a club without much risk to the integrity of the barrel. The shorter barrel limited the accuracy, but given fire-bolts exploded into flames when they struck, that wouldn’t prove much of a problem.

Kas scuttled forward, all three moving at a cautious crouch. Lynx kept his eyes on Kas, doing his best to ignore the fact his view was mostly of her buttocks. Twice she paused, the second time for long enough that he almost raised his gun, ready to fire. She kept an arrow nocked and three more in her draw hand, but both times started forward again without a glance back. When they came to the oak Kas paused and looked right to check on Varain and Tyn. They were barely visible through the brush, but Lynx followed their progress forward until they had found a good position to wait.