Swords of the Imperium (Dark Fantasy Novel) (The Polaris Chronicles Book 2) (27 page)

“What’s taking the girl so long, old wench?” Silas snarled. “We’re hungry.”

“Please, Sir Knight, partake freely,” the wife said, and bowed as she placed three steaming bowls of porridge on the table. “Lord Husband, more ale!”

Silas lowered his head and sniffed the bowl. His face scrunched with displeasure, and he casually tipped its contents onto the floor. “This smells suspicious. I won’t have it.”

“Forgive us, Sir Knight,” the wife said. “I’ll pluck a fresh chicken immediately.”

The younger, red-haired chevalier rolled his eyes and rose from his seat. “Oy, Father, these vermin have nothing we really want. Well, maybe except for that,” he said, and flashed a scraggly grin at the remaining daughter.

“You may have your way with her. Perhaps I will, too,” Silas said.

“Please, milord, I beg you not to,” the farmer cried and tried to kiss Silas’s mailed boots. Silas kicked out and sent the man sprawling into a corner.

“She has…she has the pox, good sirs,” the wife said. “That is why she stays here and has no husband. I beg you not to endanger yourself.”

“Oh, well, so does my son.” Silas laughed. “Girl, meet Sir Giles. He’ll show you attention you haven’t had for a while.”

The wife rushed over to her daughter’s side and threw her arms around the girl’s shoulders. For her trouble, the blond chevalier knocked her to the ground. “Oy, Gilly, pray tell if she really has the pox or not. I want seconds if she’s clean,” he said.

“Oh, shut it, Oxney. You always want to stick it where I’ve been, you cur,” Giles said. He dragged the girl away by her arm into the adjacent sleeping room and slammed the door shut.

Damn you, fucking Ursalan swine.
Taki shook his head and slunk along the wall. When he came to a windowsill, he carefully rose and slipped into the darkness.

Giles the chevalier faced away from him, leering at the girl, who huddled against a corner. Taki slapped one hand over the man’s eyes and then drove a knife through the base of his skull. The knight went limp, unable to speak and unable to breathe. Taki eased the body gently to the floor, looked at the girl, and motioned for her to keep quiet.

“Osterbrand!
Osterbrand!”
she shrieked.

Taki’s jaw dropped in amazement and disgust. “Really! Are you fucking
kidding
me?”

The blond knight barreled in with his axe held high. Taki jammed his forearm into the knight’s wrists to prevent the axe from falling, drew from a holster, and fired three rounds into the man’s gut. Oxney staggered back and dropped the axe. Taki took aim at his enemy’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

Behind Oxney’s falling body, he saw Silas pull out a brace of muzzle-loading pistols. Taki pirouetted to dodge a shot and sent a round into the man’s thigh. Silas groaned and pitched forward while trying to bring the other pistol to bear, but Taki was already on him. He grasped Silas’s beard and gave it a yank to slam his head onto the table. Then, Taki pressed the muzzle of his Herstal against Silas’s temple and fired twice. As the armored body slid off the table, Taki aligned sights on the farmer and his wife.

“Sir Taki!”
Jibriil stormed in with his carbine at the ready. When he saw the chevaliers’ bodies, however, he lowered his weapon and started to laugh. “By the Usurper’s shriveled titties, I thought this was a burglary mission, not a massacre!”

Taki threw him a poisonous glare. “Keep the commentary to yourself.”

“Everything all right?” Enilna was breathless as she also peeked in.

“No,” Taki said. “They’ve seen us.”

“Should we?” Jibriil pointed his gun at the family.

Dammit, Captain, what would you do? What would Sir Aslatiel do?
Taki fixed a stare at the old farmer, as if daring him to move. He couldn’t leave witnesses. The trio would be hunted relentlessly, and by far more capable soldiers than the ones they’d just killed. But the family hadn’t asked for this, either. They weren’t soldiers, or rebels, or smugglers. They were just like the people he’d seen mowed down in a similar shithole long ago.
But this is also war, and I know I’m no hero.
He raised his gun again and tried not to look at Enilna.

“Forgive us, Imperials,” the wife said, and touched her forehead to the ground. “I know not for what purpose you came here today, but I thank God for you. We all do.”

Taki sucked his teeth. “Is this place often visited by patrols? Are there more on the way?”

“Nay, milord,” the old farmer said. “Those men were a prank of the devil. We are simply poor folk who can live nowhere else, so we live in seclusion. You’ve done us a great service, milord, and we do not believe the slander spread about your nation.”

Taki lowered his gun.
Fuck it, I’m no war criminal.

“Fine,” he said. “But you will give us supplies and help hide the bodies and horses.”

Before long, the two daughters were happily bleeding and plucking a pair of chickens in the yard, while the old farmer and his wife set to work bundling together sacks of gruel and dried vegetables that could be made into porridge.

Enilna picked through the small mound of equipment scavenged from the enemy. Most of the weapons and armor had been poorly maintained, but there was a good amount of milligrad and some reloads. Enough to make up for what Taki had spent, in any case. The rest would have to be burned or buried. She had driven the Ursalan horses away after stripping them of their reins and saddlery. Meanwhile, Taki and Jibriil had grown sweaty from the arduous task of toting the dead bodies into the root cellar. When the sun dipped against the horizon, the trio convened again in the main house.

“If you go south, there will be a shortcut to the Cantons,” the old farmer said. “But the Schweizmadchen are fearsome and unruly. Even you, our saviors, might not be strong enough to overcome them.”

“My thanks,” Taki said. He tore into a chicken half with his teeth and fingers. It was hot and gamey, with a pleasing golden hue. “We’ll be the judges of that.”

Jibriil shook his head. “The old man’s right, though. Chevaliers are one thing, but those warrior women are another. If we engage them in combat, we will die. I also don’t enjoy the thought of fighting women.”

Enilna winked at him. “Don’t worry,
Archangel,
I won’t let them rape you.”

Jibriil chuckled. “I’ll seriously hold you to that, Imperial.”

“M-madame?” Cosette said.

“Huh?” Enilna said. “Me?”

“Does the Osterbrand king let all women have…guns?”

“Child,” the farmer’s wife admonished, “don’t bother our saviors.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Enilna said. “Basically, yes. The padishah is kind of like this big floating head that flies around, and when we bow to him, guns come out of his mouth!”

“Don’t feed the girl lies,” Taki said.

Jibriil finished off the last of his broth and sucked cartilage off a bone before standing. “We should be on our way, Sir Taki. While we have the cover of night.”

Taki considered telling Jibriil to shush, but he knew the man was right. It was comforting and warm in the house, but there were more chevaliers around, and the peasants weren’t exactly friends. “Very well, we’ll go. And, good sir, I advise you to remove the bodies and stow them far from here, for fear of dogs.”

“Thank you, milord,” the farmer said.

By the next bell, the trio headed out at a brisk canter through the trees. The night was pleasantly moonlit, and the horses were laden with food, perhaps overly so. Taki occasionally looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the torches of an Ursalan cavalry column in the distance, but so far there was nothing but silence.

“Did you sense it?” Jibriil asked, finally.

Taki blinked. “Sense what? You think they were going to report us?”

“Nay, but I believe something else might have been afoot concerning that family. I didn’t want to say it at the time because I had no proof, but when scouting to find a place for our horses, I encountered a great many bones hidden under the leaves. Based on the shape, probably human.”

“Bones litter all battlefields, though.”

“I know, but I also saw no clearings or fields around the homestead. A farmer must clear trees and rocks away lest he ruin his plows. And yet there was no sign of such activity.”

Taki frowned. “Are you accusing them of cannibalism?”

“I don’t know,” Jibriil said, “but I am glad that what we ate was prepared in front of us. And I wouldn’t worry overmuch about taking so many of their winter stores. We might have left them a surfeit of meat in exchange.”

“Cannibals or not, I didn’t sense evil. Perhaps they were driven to desperation and lost their way. Many Ursalans seem to be.”

“Somehow, I get the impression they weren’t luring in armed patrols,” Jibriil said. “I only hope they haven’t been enticing too many innocents. Lonely woods like these hold many terrible secrets.”

Taki laughed. “You’re a suspicious sort, aren’t you? I didn’t think so back at the Temple. I always imagined you more self assured.”

Jibriil winked. “And I never imagined myself being stuck between chevaliers and wendigo. But I’m glad, though.”

“For what?”

“That you are a capable commander after all. I feared you would be bloodthirsty and weak willed. But I was proven wrong. I’m glad to serve you, Sir Taki.”

Jibriil extended his hand, and Taki shook it.

By the valley entrance was a tower of skulls. Skulls stacked on top of long bones stacked on top of yet more skulls, with the smaller bones—phalanges and vertebrae—used to fill in gaps. Some still wore rusting helms and decaying chain cowls, but nearly all of them were marked with the same feature: bullet holes.

“What the hell is that?” Taki asked.

“A welcoming sign,” Jibriil said. He unslung his carbine and chambered a round. “It means we’re in the right place.”

Enilna’s eyes widened like saucers, and she trotted over to the ossuary, where she started to poke at the exposed ends of old bone.

“What the hell are you doing, milady? That’s dangerous!”

“I’m just looking!” Enilna said. “They told me about the famous greeting towers, but I’ve never seen one in real life. It’s really impressive. I wonder how long it took to make. How many bodies are in this thing, anyway?”

Jibriil wrung his hands. “The natives introduce themselves by shooting you in the head from a kilometer away. Our only chance for survival is to constantly watch each others’ backs and stay discreet. That tower was our last warning to leave.”

“So how are we to avoid trouble?” Taki said.

“Same way anyone does. A bribe.” He reached into his saddlebag and withdrew a bulging sack. Holding it high in the air, he wheeled his horse around and then slowly trotted up to the skull tower. Finally, he set the bag on an altar of ribs and let it fall slightly open.

Taki drew in a sharp breath when he saw what was inside: glinting rounds of Old Nayto Standard. “Will it work?” he asked.

Jibriil shrugged. “It should prevent the older clanswomen from attacking us outright. They’re the better shooters—the ones we should be especially concerned about. The younger goats might still try to kill us and loot our corpses, but they’re nowhere near as fearsome as the nannies.”

Enilna snorted. “They charge a hell of a toll, and we’re still expected to defend ourselves from raiders
and
not do anything to offend their sensibilities. What a ripoff.”

“Better than getting picked off while you’re taking a shit,” Jibriil said.

Taki shook his head and pulled ahead. In his peripheral vision, he spied the glint of sunlight reflecting off a rifle scope hidden in a copse of trees on the mountainside. Knowing that he was in someone’s sights unnerved him greatly, but there was nothing to be done about it. If the sniper had wanted him dead, Taki would have already been face down in the mud. Hopefully, the payment was enough. If not, then the trio would not only be dead, but poor.

Over the next three days, they endured the agony of traversing a mountain range. The horses tired easily, the air was chokingly thin, and the evenings were never restful. Every distant howl, flap of a wing, or shift of the logs on their fire was enough to induce an anxious wakefulness. In the distance, pairs of eyes glinted in the trees but vanished when focused on. Mornings brought relief at having survived another night in this savage hinterland. On the fourth day, as they crested the peak of yet another endless series of hills that barely failed as mountains, they saw the town of Ulrichtochten.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Jibriil said. “Like the Fall just didn’t happen in this corner of the world.”

“You’re right,” Taki said, “it’s too pristine. I thought no one had been spared the wrath of the demons.”

“This land has always been strange,” Jibriil said. “Even before the Fall, they were an isolated sort that didn’t care for the demands of their neighbors. It’s plausible that they may have defended themselves successfully. I don’t know.”

“But we’re not all speaking their language, so something happened to make them perish, anyway,” Taki said. “Anyone within?”