Say it quick, get out quicker.
“Save it, Eirik, I'm only here to...”
“Oh of course we can find some use for you, eh, Jez,” Eirik said with a dirty grin. “How about you get yourself up to my rooms, you know the way. Get yourself nice and naked and I'll be up soon to put you to use.”
Not good odds but I could probably kill him before his men beat me senseless... would make this entire journey a waste though.
She heard creaking timbers and turned just in time to see the gates thud shut and the soldiers struggling to lift the heavy wooden cross-bar. Last thing she needed was to be stuck in this shitty little fort.
“Open the gates, Eirik, I'm not staying. Just came to warn you of the impending attack.”
In an instant the grin dropped from his handsome face, replaced by a frown. “Numbers?”
“Don't know, only met scouts, didn't have chance to question them.”
“Too busy killing them no doubt?”
Jezzet didn't respond to the question just stared ahead at the chief of the little fort as he chewed his lip.
“How far out?” he asked.
“Met them 'bout two days back in the woods. Reckon you've got a day at most. Now open the gate, I got no intention of being anywhere near...”
“Oh I can't do that, not with the threat of an attack, eh boys?”
The guards at the gate grunted back and showed no sign of unbarring it. Jezzet glared at Eirik. “I come back to warn you and this is how you repay me?”
“Never asked you to warn me of anything, Jezzet. Never needed warning of owt either.” Eirik strutted around as he talked, flexing his big shoulders underneath his chain-linked armour. “Way I see it; I could use every sword, even yours.”
Jezzet looked around the small square at the gathered soldiers. Twelve of them, all well-armed and well trained and another three hundred or so in the fort all willing to jump to Eirik's command. Not to mention she couldn't lift the bar on the gate by herself, she couldn't lift it with three of her if truth be told.
Shitty odds, Jez.
“You stay, help us fight off this attack, and I'll let you walk out of here, again.” Then Eirik grinned. “In the meantime, we got some spare so you get yourself ready and I'll be with you soon enough.”
Fight or fuck?
Sometimes, all too often for Jezzet's liking, she had no choice. She spat into the ground and glared murderous daggers at Eirik as she walked towards the clusters of buildings in the fort, towards his chambers.
Fuck!
The Black Thorn
“What is it?” Green asked and looked at Betrim.
Betrim shrugged and looked at Bones. Bones opened his mouth to speak and shut it again then looked to Swift. Swift sniffed and leered at Henry. Henry spat and walked off while scratching at something behind her ear.
“So?” Green prompted. He was still staring a Betrim, been doing that an awful lot of late, ever since Bones told the little shit that Betrim was the Black Thorn. Made sleeping a whole lot less comfortable. Betrim always slept with one eye open and a hand near a weapon but now he had to sleep with both eyes open.
“How the fuck should I know, Green?” Betrim replied with a shake of his head.
The thing they were all gathered around was huge. Massive grey body, massive grey head, massive mouth with two massive yellow teeth in the lower jaw and lots of little yellow teeth all over the place. It had tiny black eyes set high on its head up from its snout and tiny round ears poking out from its skull. Its legs were short and stumpy and its tail was a thin strip of flesh poking out above its arse. All in all Betrim reckoned it must weigh as much as the entire crew put together and then some.
It looked like a giant grey pig with an oversized mouth had crawled up out of the river and died and it was without a doubt dead. Had the stink of death on it. Flies buzzed all around and settled on the open wound. The dead creature was huge but Betrim didn't even want to know how big the thing had done for it was. Four huge gashes on the creature's belly were deep and showed rotting pink flesh on the insides.
“Reckon it tastes like pig?” Swift wondered aloud. He'd stopped staring after Henry and was looking again at the dead creature.
“Reckon I'm in no hurry ta find out,” Betrim said and walked away.
“You know what it is, Boss?” Green shouted.
“Or what did fer it?” Betrim added.
The Boss didn't so much as look at the creature, just fixed Green with dark eyes in a dark face surrounded by dark hair. “Don't matter what it is,” he said, metal flashing in his mouth every time he spoke. “Don't matter what did fer it. Everyone stay away from the river an' keep movin'.”
The Boss didn't look scared but then Betrim had known the man for near two years now and if he was ever scared he'd never shown it. Betrim remembered their first meeting well. Not many men had the stones to introduce themselves to the Black Thorn the way the Boss had.
Betrim had been sat, nursing his last beer, studying the rest of the folk in the tavern and wondering which of them would be easiest to rob. He'd just about settled on following a couple of scrawny, merchant-looking youths out when they left and this big black bastard sat down at Betrim's table. Not the tallest man he'd ever seen for sure but muscled like someone who was used to swinging something heavy. Betrim had reached for his axe underneath the table, he was well used to folk starting fights with him, came with the name.
“Got an offer fer ya, Black Thorn,” the Boss had said and flashed a grin. It was the metal that had made Betrim listen. He'd heard of men who changed their teeth for metal but he'd never seen it before. Chased all other thoughts away and he'd just sat there staring at those metal teeth for a long time.
When the Boss stopped smiling and started talking again Betrim listened, not saying a word until the Boss had finished. He was amazed was what it was. This big man from the far south with metal teeth had sat down and told Betrim he was putting together a crew of the most cut throat sell-swords he could find and he wanted the Black Thorn on that crew. Made sense, Betrim had one of the blackest names in the wilds and big names always opened up big doors. Betrim had mulled it over for a while and had been about to tell the southerner to piss off when...
“Oi! Thorn.” Henry poked Betrim in the ribs with a bony finger and grinned up at him. “Get back an' fetch Bones will ya.”
Betrim glanced around. Bones was still staring at the dead creature near the river. Everyone else had already moved on and were well ahead. “Aye,” Betrim said with a nod and started back.
“Bones,” Betrim said as he got closer.
“Huh?” the big man responded as he looked away from the dead creature. Betrim nodded his head the way everyone was moving and Bones understood. “Right ya are. Sorry.”
Bones fell into step beside Betrim and, not for the first time, the Black Thorn wondered at the size of the man. Betrim was not short, it had to be said, but Bones towered over him by a good head and that was with that permanent slouch of his. The giant could swing a great-sword round in one hand as if it was a wooden toy and not even the Boss could beat him in an arm wrestle.
Despite his size and strength and the fact that he killed folk for a living Bones was about as gentle as a damned puppy and about as friendly too. He was, in fact, the closest thing to a friend Betrim had ever had. Thorn got on well enough with Henry, that was true, but there was only so close you could be with a woman who had fucked you and then tried to kill you on your first meeting.
“Poor thing,” Bones said from beside Betrim. “Food fer the maggots now I guess.”
“And the lions, or the laughing dogs, vultures or whatever the fuck is in that river.” The Whitewash was big and deep, not as big or deep as the Jorl but big and deep enough to hide all sorts of things underneath its murky, green waters. Betrim didn't like water; rivers, seas, oceans, hell even wells. Never knew what was under water, never knew what might be waiting for you.
They walked in silence for a while a ways back from the others. Up in front Betrim could see Henry's slinking form next to the Boss while Green listened to another of Swift's stories. Always hard to tell with Swift which of his stories were real and which were shit. Betrim tended towards believing none of them.
“Still worried about that Arbiter back in Korral, Thorn?” Bones asked as he put one big foot in front of the other. Most men walked, Bones plodded.
Betrim coughed up some phlegm and spat into the earth. Down in the far south such a waste of water was one of the worst curses a man could commit. Up here in the wilds it was just spit. “Always. Man like me always gotta be worried 'bout 'em.” He felt his burn scar tug on his face as he talked, always did when Arbiters were talked about. “Fact is that shit recognised me. Shouted my damned name.”
“We didn't leave no one alive ta tell it though.”
“Left the owner alive didn't we,” Betrim said through gritted teeth. “Shoulda let Henry kill him.”
“He'd never find us out 'ere though.” Bones waved a big hand in a circular motion to indicate the plains.
The rolling plains stretched out in all directions and as far as the eye could see. Long blade grass grew thick, covered the ground in a whispering sea of green that swayed and rippled with the wind. Soon the great herd would move through this province and strip the land bare, turn the green sea into a dusty brown expanse of barren, hilly nothing. When that happened the hunters would be out in force, both animal and human, and Korral would turn into one of the busiest port towns in the wilds.
Fact was tracking people on the plains was simple as pissing. Everywhere you went you left tracks clear as daylight to anyone with eyes to see them and smoke from a fire could be seen for miles upon miles. If the Arbiter had a mind to follow them he could and, if he had a horse, then catch them he would. No point in worrying the giant with such logic though.
“Mm,” Bones grunted and the two went back to silence. Bones had never like silence and Betrim could see it grated on him even now.
“How long till Green turns on you, ya reckon?”
Now there was a thought. The Boss' group had always been six in number and the last three had all tried to kill Betrim at one point or another and had ended up paying for it in blood. Truth was not many who had tried for the Black Thorn lived to talk about. Except Henry but then she was a special case.
“'Bout as long as it takes him ta grow a pair of stones, I reckon,” Betrim said. The thought of sinking his axe into Green's skull brought a smile to his face. After all, the boy had a purse full of bits going to waste.
Betrim came awake at the touch and fumbled for a weapon that wasn't there. It was cold, dark and cloudy but not too dark to see Henry crouched in front of him holding his axe. Her fierce little face stared into his ugly scarred one and she raised a finger to her lips, then moved it to her ear, then pointed off to her left. Betrim frowned, grabbed his axe and strained his ears. Horses. More than one, less than a lot.
Betrim's frown grew even deeper and he nodded at Henry. She was still crouched over him, straddling him almost in a way that might have got his blood going once but not anymore, not with Henry. She winked at him and stalked off to wake Bones, as silent as a cat and twice as dangerous.
Crouching down low, near crawling, Betrim followed the sounds of the horses. Less than a hundred feet he could hear voices, soft and quiet, whispers almost. He found the Boss and Swift belly down and watching the little camp with the horses from a slight rise.
Boss had said no fires while they were travelling and now Betrim was glad. Riders following their trail could mean many things and not many of them good. He slithered up the rise on his belly and stopped next to the Boss.
Not twenty feet away Betrim could see a small camp fire, bright flames licking up at a hastily constructed spit with some small animal cooking away. He made sure not to look at the light, best to keep his night vision in case killing was needed. He counted ten horses the other side of the fire not even tied up by the looks. They looked well-bred but expensive horseflesh tasted no better than cheap horseflesh and Betrim had never got on with riding. All that bouncing around in the saddle gave him sore stones. Some of the men in the little camp were sleeping, some attending the spit and the one meant to be keeping a look out kept glancing at the fire. Chances are the fool couldn't see more than two feet in this darkness.
Betrim looked at the Boss and made the sign for '
kill
'. The Boss stared back for a second, deciding, then shook his head. He pointed two fingers towards the west and nodded. Betrim began slithering back down the rise and the Boss followed a few moments later. Swift would stay for a while, watching and waiting before joining up with the rest of the crew. He was the fastest of them and near as quiet as Henry.
She was waiting for them just down the rise, her short, spiky, dust coloured hair shooting off at all angles, her scar, as always, tugging her lip up on the right side into a permanent sneer, dark eyes watching them as they approached. Again the Boss made the two fingered signal for moving west and Henry nodded, turning and walking with them towards the camp.
Green was taking a piss against an old dead tree stump when they got back. He yawned, shook himself a few times and then put his cock away before turning back to the others and opening his mouth to speak. The Boss grabbed the boy by the leathers and pulled him close, shaking his head in a real threatening manner. Green looked beyond scared and truth was Betrim could understand. The Black Thorn would never admit it but the Boss scared even him sometimes. Letting go of Green with a shove the big southerner picked up his pack and started west. Henry grinned and followed. Green, no doubt glad that he'd pissed before the Boss had grabbed him, picked up his own pack and shuffled off after them at a respectful distance.
Betrim found Bones sitting on a rock staring at some huge beetle he'd found from somewhere. The thing was as big as Betrim's fist, the one with a full set of five fingers. Its body had a blue-black sheen to it and a huge horn stuck out from its head and split into two at the end. It was wandering its way up Bones' arm and he seemed more than happy to sit there watching it with a big stupid grin on his face.
