The Heresy Within (38 page)

Hostown itself was a fair size smaller than Chade. Like all towns, cities, villages and forts in the wilds it sported high stone walls thick with soldiers all wearing the green on red that were the colours of house H'ost.

Just a half mile outside the walls Thanquil could see the tell-tale signs of an army; a multitude of tents all with coloured peaks littering the landscape, smoke from cook fires rose into the air from a hundred different places and scout patrols rode to and from the camp.

“That's a lot of men,” Bones said in a hushed tone. The entire crew had become more and more hushed the closer they got to Hostown.

“Not just men, women too,” Jezzet informed them. “Veterans from sell-sword companies; the Angel's Blades, Catherine and Constance's old company, the Gold Caps from the far south, the Red Men from north of the Red Forest. Others too. H'ost brought them all here and turned them all from sell-swords to soldiers. His own army too.  The H'ost province is well populated and there are always men looking to earn money by swinging a sword.”

“How many men?” the Boss asked from atop his old horse. The southerner was alive, stronger than he had been but still weak. He walked each day for as long as possible but rode the rest of the way. His flesh seemed to have been burned from his bones and even talking came hard for him. Thanquil could only hope he lasted a few more days.

Jezzet spat. “When I lef... was captured the count stood at around eighteen thousand. Seems there might be more now. A lot more.”

“Eighteen thousand sounds a big number,” the Black Thorn put in. “What’s he want with all them swords?”

Jezzet laughed. “He wants the wilds. He wants the old empire back like it was in Doro's reign before his sons split the rule into the nine blooded families. He wants to be a king.”

“The wilds'll bleed 'fore they accept H'ost as king,” Swift said. Even he seemed to smile less these days.

“That's the point. You don't raise an army unless you intend to use it.”

“The army doesn't concern us. Just those inside the city,” Thanquil interrupted.

“They'll be plenty o' men in there too, Arbiter,” Swift spat and lapsed back into silence.

Thanquil didn't care how many men were in the city; he was only concerned with one. Gregor H'ost, the head of the family. He had the answers the Arbiter needed; he had to have the answers. Thanquil had crossed the Forlorn Sea and half the wilds to question the man, to find out what he knew about the traitor in the Inquisition and know something he must or all this had been for nowt.

The question had weighed heavy on Thanquil of late. What if H'ost knew nothing? What if the God-Emperor of Sarth had sent him here chasing phantoms and wild suspicions and false information? Thanquil had gained the service of the most murderous group of sell-swords he'd ever met with the promise that after he had asked his questions he would kill H'ost. But what if the man was innocent? True, Thanquil was already wanted for the murder of two of the four members of the ruling council of Chade; why not add in the murder of the head of the richest family in the wilds.

Thanquil had already resigned himself to his fate. If he returned to the Inquisition without any proof of the traitor the very best that could happen to him was he would have his position as a wandering Arbiter removed. He would no doubt be sent to some backwater village to live out the remainder of his days telling ignorant villagers that the old lady with no teeth was not a witch and she hadn't cursed the harvest. The worst that could happen... well he knew just how unforgiving the Inquisitors could be.

Truth was the God-Emperor had chosen him for this task because he was expendable and right now Thanquil was feeling very expendable. He only hoped the crew hadn't realised just how expendable they were.

A group of soldiers on horses trotted up to them from the town. There were ten and to a man they were armed with long spears and long swords and heavy wooden shields. Each wore a rounded metal cuirass and a high helm but underneath was boiled leather.

“Business?” said the soldier with the bent nose, heavy brow and thick, brown beard turning to grey.

“None o' yours,” replied Henry in a sullen voice. The little woman had been quieter and even angrier since Jezzet had left her hanging from the bridge that crossed the Jorl.

“You would do well to quiet your woman before I do so myself.” The soldier seemed well able to match Henry's anger scowl for scowl.

“Jus' lookin' fer a place ta rest a few days,” the Boss said in a weary voice. “Pick up some more supplies. Then we'll be on our way.”

The soldier peered at the Boss. “You don't look so good. You ill?”

The Boss sat as straight as possible, which was to say his shoulders stooped and he swayed in the saddle. “Let’s see how good you look after takin' an arrow in the back. Jus' wounded is all.”

“Bandits around the Jorl?”

“As you say.”

The soldier grunted. “Stay at the
Feathered Fool
and ask ol' Bernard for the name of a healer. He'll point you good.”

The Boss nodded. “Reckon I might jus' do that.”

With that the soldiers turned their horses and trotted back towards the town. The crew followed at a slower pace.

“Guess they don't get too many visitors,” Bones said.

“Many and more and then some more on top,” Jezzet said. “H'ost may be a madman and a sot but he's no fool. Keeps himself and his town well defended. Hostown has never been sacked and he doesn't intend the first time to be on his watch.”

“Make for the
Feathered Fool
then, Boss?” Thorn asked.

“Aye.”

The crew were silent for a moment. “Should I find us a place closer to the gates? Just in case?” Bones asked.

“Aye.”

“Good.”

“Aye.”

The Boss was sagging in his saddle, his eyes half closed. It was late in the day and his walking in the morning had taken it out of him. Either that or the charm was losing its effect. If that was the case Thanquil would have to hope the Black Thorn could hold the crew together for long enough to get the job done.

Inside the walls Hostown was astir. Empty wagons were leaving, full wagons arriving. Slaves hurried to and fro all under the watchful eyes of their taskmasters, if any so much as missed a step the whip would crack. People gathered round a pot shop hoping for a bowl of brown stew and a heel of bread before going back out to the fields.

“Harvest time,” Jezzet said. “The whole town will be busy, preoccupied.”

They stopped once to ask one of the soldiers for directions to the
Feathered Fool
. There were more than enough soldiers to choose from, it seemed like half of H'ost's army must be inside the town and all of them were watching Thanquil and the crew.

The inn-keep seemed happy enough to see them. A jolly-looking fat man, red of face and possessing of at least three chins. His eyes were small, beady, and close-set. His nose was large and bulbous and his hair was a shaggy brown ponytail that made him look ridiculous but he smiled and ushered them all to a table.

“You will want food, yes?”

“Aye,” the Boss said as he sunk into a chair with a wince. “An' rooms. Two of 'em.”

“Our rooms only sleep two people, there are eight of you.”

The Boss was silent so Thorn answered for him. “We'll make do. Bring food, whatever you've got on an' drinks.”

“We have ale.”

“That'll do.”

“So what's the plan, Boss?” Swift asked.

The Boss' eyelids fluttered open and he glanced around the room. Thanquil noticed yellowing around his eyes, that didn't seem a good sign. “We'll stay here t'night. Come mornin' we'll go see H'ost. Arbiter has the plan.”

The entire crew and Jezzet turned to look at Thanquil. He smiled and waited for the inn-keep to bring the ales, the plan would go down better with alcohol.

“H'ost will be in his mansion.”

“His fort,” Jezzet corrected.

“We're going to walk right up to the main gate where I will demand an audience with H'ost. He's not likely to turn away an Arbiter. Once inside you will create a diversion among the garrison while I question H'ost.”

The table was silent, all members of the crew stared at Thanquil, some with their mugs frozen half way to their mouths. It was Swift who broke the silence.

“You never done this sort of thing 'fore have ya?”

The Black Thorn was shaking his head. “Ya plan is suicide.”

Even Jezzet was no help. “Might be we need to think on this for a couple of days. Come up with something a little better.”

“A little less insane,” Henry put in with a scowl.

Green was grinning from ear to ear. “I like it.”

“Shut up, Green,” Thorn hissed. “Boss?”

The Boss lifted weary eyes from the table. “Reckon it needs some work.”

“Be better goin' in at night,” Swift said. “Under cover of darkness. Nip over the walls, break in, find his rooms an' slit his throat.”

“How high are the walls?”

“Close to a hundred foot as I remember,” Jezzet said.

“I can climb that, easy.” Swift grinned. “Did I ever tell ya 'bout...”

“Without bein' spotted? With patrols above an' below?” Thorn shook his head. “What 'bout tunnels? A sewer like in Chade?”

“Oh Gods, please not another sewer,” Jezzet winced at the mere suggestion.

“Might be an option at least,” Thorn continued. “Worth lookin' inta.”

“He must leave his little fort sometimes,” Bones suggested. All eyes turned to Jezzet.

“Back when Catherine was in charge of the army he used to tour the camp once a week but now Constance is in charge... I couldn't say.”

Thanquil sighed. “I need to question the man.”

“Aye an' we need ta kill him,” Swift hissed.

“Get me alone with him and I'll do both.”

“What does the Inquisition want with him anyways?” the Black Thorn asked. Thanquil held his tongue, he wasn't about to tell a group of sell-swords that the Inquisition might have a traitor in its midst.

“What 'bout poison?” Bones said. “Ya said he likes his drink.”

The argument continued for near on an hour. Swift claimed he could put an arrow through H'ost's eye from a thousand yards, a lie, they all knew, but he claimed it anyway. Bones suggested they pass themselves as a group of entertainers to gain entrance to the fort. Henry championed calling the whole thing off but was shot down when Green reminded them of the substantial reward for the job. Thanquil contented himself with listening and praying that the Boss would recover enough to put an end to the bickering and come up with some sort of plan. Back on the plains when they'd talked alone he claimed he was good with plans, claimed he could figure out a way inside and out again without raising suspicion but the man seemed uninterested, or more to the point he seemed incapable of following all the talk.

The argument ended when a score of soldiers entered the inn. They filtered into the common room but made no move to sit. The Black Thorn hissed at all the others to stay quiet.

“Arbiter Darkheart?” said the soldier with a captain's badge on his arm.

The crew fell silent. “Yes.” Thanquil responded, his voice cracking a little.

“Lord H'ost wishes to talk to you.”

Twenty soldiers or near as didn't matter, all well-armed and veterans by the looks of them. Thanquil doubted he could fight his way free even if the crew helped him.

“What 'bout us?” Green asked. Bones cuffed him into silence.

“You're all to come with us.”

The Boss stirred from his chair, as if seeing all the soldiers for the first time. His voice was weak, strained “What's this about?”

“Not my place to say.”

“Do ya need our weapons?” Green asked. Again the giant cuffed him.

The Captain smiled. “That won't be necessary. The Lordship just wants to talk.”

Thanquil stood first, Jezzet followed and then the rest of the crew. The Boss struggled to his feet with Bones helping him. All of them made sure their hands did not stray too close to their weapons. None wanted to fight their way clear here.

Outside another score of soldiers waited for them bringing their escort up to forty men, it would seem Lord H'ost was not taking any chances. The Captain instructed them to follow him and the rest of his men fell in all around Thanquil, Jezzet and the Boss' crew. They were penned in on all sides and even if they wanted to cut their way free they would have no hope against so many.

The Black Thorn walked close to Thanquil and whispered as they went. “They knew ya name, Arbiter. Don’t reckon that’s a good thing.”

“Just so long as it gets me face to face with H'ost,” Thanquil whispered back.

“Aye.”

The sun was dipping below the walls of the town as they made their way through the streets, even so there were plenty of people about to stop and watch the strange procession. Children were out in force, ever bolder than adults some of the little ones even took to marching next to the soldiers, mimicking the men, others danced about asking '
what they done?
' or '
they fer hangin'? Can we watch?
’

The only member of the crew who did not look nervous was the Boss, though, Thanquil reflected, that was because the man looked to be a walking corpse with one wasted arm over Bones' stooped shoulders for support.

“Captain,” Jezzet called out. “Could you tell me, is Constance back in the city?”

The Captain glanced back at her with a cruel smile. “Deadeye got back not three days ago.”

After that Jezzet fell silent, brooding. It didn't take long for them to reach H'ost's fort in the centre of his town. Sheer grey walls rose out of the ground and Thanquil decided Jezzet might have been shy when she guessed at a hundred feet. He could see faces peering down at him from the battlements high above and the round towers either side of the gate had ten arrow slits a piece. The gate boasted a heavy iron portcullis currently raised to allow their entry and an iron bound wooden gate on the other side also open.

Inside they found themselves in a huge courtyard that looked as though it could accommodate a thousand soldiers. Their escort of just forty men seemed small by comparison. H'ost's mansion stood in front of them. Once it may have seemed grand but after Lord Xho's estate in Chade and the Imperial palace in Sarth Thanquil thought it looked a stunted, drab building. He had expected more from the most powerful blooded family in the wilds.