The Long War 01 - The Black Guard (15 page)

Bronwyn tried to stay as far behind the concealing beam as possible. Hasim turned to her and smiled in an effort to ease the tension. She found herself wanting to slap him as he had slapped her, but all she did was smile thinly back at him.

The knights approached. ‘Soldier, do you see anything?’ asked one at the rear.

The man holding the torch peered along the dark corridor. ‘No, my lord, the tunnel looks like it goes a way along the wall.’

The knights were now only a blade’s distance from Hasim. The torchbearer extended his hand and the fire passed close to Hasim’s concealed face.

‘Let’s see where it goes,’ said the knight at the rear, and all five began to move noisily along the tunnel.

The torchbearer had stepped past Hasim before he turned and showed wide-eyed surprise at Bronwyn, skulking in the darkness. ‘My lord—’ his words were cut off as she thrust at his neck, skewering his windpipe.

Blood splattered across her face and the knight fell. She withdrew her blade and stumbled forwards, the weight of the armoured man putting her off balance. The other four knights were off guard and paused for a second as Bronwyn fell awkwardly.

Hasim remained hidden for another moment and let a second knight advance before he emerged. The man was focused on Bronwyn and turned too late to parry Hasim’s kris blade as it plunged into his eye. The remaining three knights began shouting, ‘They’re here…’ The sound of armoured men clattering against wooden walls echoed along the passage.

Hasim, keeping hold of his kris blade, shoved the dead knight backwards. The body fell heavily against the next man, sending both to the floor. Blood sprayed out from the man’s eye as Hasim withdrew his knife and dived forward. He jumped over the fallen man and tackled the next knight to the ground, a sword swipe catching him in the leg as he did so.

Bronwyn saw Hasim with his knee to the throat of one knight as he raised his scimitar to parry the downward swing of another. The knight who had been pushed to the floor by the body of his fellow was getting to his feet, Hasim’s back exposed before him. The man advanced without seeming to notice Bronwyn, now standing upright in the narrow tunnel.

She didn’t hesitate and stepped quickly behind him, aiming her blade at the back of his neck. He crumpled to the floor at her feet.

‘Stay there,’ Hasim shouted without turning.

It was taking all his strength to keep one knight subdued while parrying the swings of the other. Only the close quarters of the passageway prevented the man getting a full swing at the Karesian in front of him. The knight on the floor had lost his sword and was trying to lift Hasim’s knee from his throat.

The last knight pulled back his sword and aimed a thrust at Hasim’s chest. The blow was strong and showed skill, but Hasim was fast and unencumbered by steel armour. He removed his knee from the fallen knight and rolled out of the way, hitting the wooden wall. He slashed out at the knight, his scimitar cutting deeply across the back of the man’s leg.

Crying out in pain, the knight swung again, but this time he was off balance and his sword hit the wooden beam above. The blade bit deeply into the wood and he could not react as Hasim darted past him. From behind, the Karesian wrapped an arm round his neck and, with near-surgical precision, slid his knife under the man’s armour and up into his side.

The knight spewed up blood as Hasim wrenched the blade inside him and roughly jerked it free.

The man Hasim had restrained with his knee was coughing and trying to catch his breath, as he felt on the floor for his sword. As his gauntleted fist found the weapon, Bronwyn advanced and the man looked up.

‘Knight!’ Hasim roared at the man, who turned from Bronwyn to stare at the Karesian. Hasim held up a hand to tell Bronwyn to stay back and took a step towards the Red knight.

‘Time to die for your heresy, godless Karesian.’

‘I’m not a hundred years old and I see no harem of beautiful women, so it’s definitely not my time to die,’ Hasim shot back in reply.

The knight thrust forward with strength. Hasim deflected the blow with his scimitar and attacked with his knife. The knight grabbed his wrist and kicked Hasim solidly in the chest, sending him back down the tunnel.

Bronwyn gasped as Hasim fell to the floor, losing his footing as he tripped over one of the fallen knights.

She didn’t react; her short sword felt small in her hand now that the knight was armed and aware. Hasim tried to roll backwards and regain his feet, but the knight was quickly upon him, levelling another solid kick at the Karesian’s side. He gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of him, as he lost his grip on his scimitar.

Bronwyn thought she saw panic in his eyes for a second, before he lunged forwards and wrapped himself around the knight’s legs. The two men fell back against the wall with Hasim entangled around the knight’s lower body. The armoured man growled in anger and swiped downwards, causing a vicious-looking cut across Hasim’s back. The Karesian didn’t make more than a slight grunting sound at the wound, but wriggled himself round the knight, who growled with frustration as he struggled to free his arm for another strike.

Hasim found an exposed area of leg and savagely buried his teeth in the man’s flesh, causing him to raise his head and cry out in pain. Bronwyn darted forward, anxious that Hasim could not best this man now that surprise was no longer on his side. He didn’t see her at first, but her thrust was delivered with a shaking hand and caused only the smallest dent in his breastplate.

‘I said, stay there…’ Hasim growled as he jammed his kris blade up into the knight’s groin. His cry was louder this time but ended sharply in a gurgle, as the life left his eyes.

Hasim shoved the knight away and fell to the floor, blood covering much of his body. Bronwyn moved to his side and helped him sit upright against the tunnel wall. Most of the blood was not his, but the wounds in his back and leg were deep and jagged.

Hasim breathed deeply. ‘It’s not easy, is it, killing men?’ He smiled and, wrapping an arm round Bronwyn’s shoulder, pulled himself to his feet, wincing in pain as he did so.

‘We’re alive, they’re not… simple if not easy,’ Bronwyn replied.

He chuckled and winced again. ‘Don’t make me laugh, your ladyship. It hurts.’

He surveyed the five dead knights and took a moment to listen. No sounds could be heard, but his expression made Bronwyn think they should be moving quickly away from the scene.

‘You did well, my sweet… that first knight shit himself when he saw a woman sticking him with a short sword.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ she said.

‘Apologies, my lady, blood loss softens a man’s head and causes him to speak out of turn.’ Hasim was still trying to smile as he spoke. ‘We need to move.’

He was strong and, though his wounds looked bad, he moved as quickly as he could down the passage. Bronwyn helped, letting him lean on her and carrying his weapons.

As the tunnel turned where the knights had emerged, they saw stairs leading down and an open door on the landing below.

‘Where does that lead?’ Hasim asked.

‘I’m not sure, maybe the base of one of the wall turrets,’ Bronwyn answered.

‘Well, the only way is down,’ he said with another smile.

Bronwyn led Hasim down the stairs, where they stopped several feet before the door. She helped him rest against the wall and quietly crept up to investigate.

The door opened out on to a back street under the far wall of the city, and beyond she could see cobbled streets leading to the keep. Smoke rose from the town square several streets away as the funeral pyres burned and Bronwyn identified several landmarks she recognized. The tower of Brytag the World Raven, patron god of Canarn, was nearby, as was the crossed-swords emblem of the Street of Steel. No one was in the little street and she guessed they must be close to where the secret passage entered the cave. Taking a quick look along the street in both directions she retreated into the tunnel and closed the door behind her.

Hasim was leaning against the wall and his breathing was slow. He was holding the wound on his back with one hand and wincing in pain as he tried to move. ‘Bronwyn, I do believe that knight of the Red cut me good and proper.’ He tried to stand. ‘I don’t think I can move that fast without losing blood.’ He smiled a weak smile. ‘And that dress of yours is already bloodstained enough.’

Bronwyn leant down to help him as best she could. He was heavy and she could barely stand as she tried to take his weight on her shoulders. ‘If I can’t cry, then you can’t whinge… and that is that, my lord Karesian,’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘In the name of Jaa, Bronwyn, I’m cut and I’m bleeding and I will slow you down,’ Hasim said through the pain.

She pulled his arm over her shoulder and tensed her back against the wall as she began to heft his weight upwards. Hasim tried not to cry out, but the wound on his back was bleeding heavily and his strength was ebbing away.

‘Look, your ladyship, I am not dead yet, but I can’t help you like this. There’s a chance you can get out of here if you move quickly, but with me on your shoulder…’ He fell back against the wall. Bronwyn not finding the strength to hold him, they both slid down into a seated position.

‘I can stay alive… trust me, I can… but you have other things to worry about, my lady. To the north is a blasted tree, split down the middle by a lightning strike. Find the tree and take the track to the west.’

‘Shut up, Hasim. I just need to put you on a horse and you’ll be able to ride as well as me.’ The thought of having to escape the city on her own was terrifying, as was the thought of this man dying. He had saved her life in the great hall and again in the secret tunnel. The allies of her house were dead, imprisoned or scattered, and she could not afford to lose another here.

‘Listen to me, woman, I’ve had bad wounds before and I’m not dead yet, but I will be if I trudge along this tunnel any more. You need to run, I need to find a healer; it seems our paths are no longer entwined.’ His words were cold, as if he’d already decided what needed to be done.

Bronwyn looked at him with hard eyes, trying to think of an objection that would make him change his mind and leave the city with her. She could think of nothing. Hasim was a clever man with a well-defined survival instinct and she knew that he was right. She had seen few such wounds in her life, but enough to know that those the Karesian bore would be fatal without proper attention.

‘And then…?’ she asked.

‘And then what? Make sense, woman.’ His eyes were closed and he was sweating profusely.

‘I go west at the blasted tree, and then?’ she clarified.

He coughed as he laughed, a small droplet of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. ‘As I said, Bronwyn, you’ve your brother’s coldness. But currently I’m glad of it. As the track turns west, ride hard towards the mountains. The river marks the border of the Freelands and the ruins of Ro Hail are a few leagues beyond. It’s a two-week ride and I can’t guarantee what reception you’ll receive, but Wraith Company holds the ruins. Find Captain Horrock Green Blade and tell him what you saw in the great hall… especially about the Karesian enchantress, don’t miss that bit out.’

Bronwyn nodded and began mentally preparing for her escape. Alone, she could move quickly, but without Hasim’s scimitar and his hand to wield it she would be vulnerable. She knew the way out of the tunnels and hoped that the Red knights had not yet found the cave or the exit by the outer harbour. If they were still looking in the tunnels of the keep, she had a chance of escape. Finding a horse would be her biggest challenge, and she thought of the stables by the docks and wondered if they’d been burned during the assault. If she had to go further afield, there was a possibility one of the outer farms would still have their horses. They would be pack animals, not used to being ridden, but would have to do.

‘You need to move quickly, Bronwyn. The knights have no reason to watch the north yet, but the longer you’re missing, the more likely they are to think you’ve left the city. If they post crossbowmen on the northern ramparts you’ll be lucky to travel half an hour without being shot or ridden down.’ Hasim spluttered as he spoke and coughed up more blood. ‘Go, woman, get your noble arse out of this death trap,’ he snapped.

‘I hope you stay alive, Karesian,’ Bronwyn said, placing his scimitar and kris blade on the floor next to him. She didn’t look back, and heard no response as she moved quickly along the tunnel.

* * *

Al-Hasim, Prince of the Wastes, was hurt. He’d been hurt before, but rarely in a situation where getting healed would be such an endeavour. He’d watched Bronwyn disappear into the darkness and, no matter what he’d led her to believe, he thought it unlikely that she’d escape the city. The Karesian witch, Ameira the Lady of Spiders, was probably using her dark magic to track the young woman even now and would find her within the hour.

He’d done his best to help her, nearly dying as a result, but he owed her twin brother much and considered him a friend. Hasim wasn’t sure if he had any sisters himself, but trusted that Brom would have done the same if their situations were reversed. As he lay bleeding against the wooden wall, it occurred to him that dying in a secret passage in a backwater city of Tor Funweir was a deeply undignified way to meet Jaa, though he smiled at the thought of having bested five Red knights with only a couple of cuts to show for it. Their fabled skill was all very well on the battlefield, but they lacked the cunning of those who have lived by their wits since childhood.

Desperation was a great motivator and Hasim had been a desperate man for much of his life. His greatest regret, as he sat in a pool of his own blood, was that he hadn’t had the presence of mind to say something witty to the Red knight before he’d punctured his groin. Hasim prided himself on doing things with a certain elegance, but he had needed to shelve this trait temporarily in order to stay alive.

‘Right, you son of a whore, get your arse up and let’s see how long we can stay alive,’ he said to himself, tensing his arms against the wall and edging slowly up into a standing position.