Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) (46 page)

One of the demon’s hairy arms slipped free, and the clawed fingers of its gnarly hand plunged into the thick flesh of the ogre’s side. Dark blood welled immediately as deep furrows blossomed behind the hand that had drawn around the ogre’s flank.

Ragg stopped his gnawing to scream in pain.

Then the enraged beast struck in earnest. The neck of the creature was preternaturally flexible, and massive jaws clamped down on the ogre’s exposed head. Ragg’s entire skull disappeared into the slavering maw.

The ogre immediately released its bear hug to grab handfuls of hair on either side of the monster’s head.

Freed from the crushing hug, the beast’s limbs flashed into a blur of motion. The demon never released Ragg’s head as its arms raked at the ogre’s shoulders, chest, and belly without mercy. Muscle, bone, and entrails rained down in a storm of blood. Ragg’s hands sagged away from the muzzle that bit into his head as his knees buckled in defeat.

Kesh let out a whimper of dread as he watched his champion die.

The demon continued to shake the ogre’s head savagely, like one of Lord Banlor’s hunting dogs after it had caught a fox. Ragg’s massive body flopped uselessly, flinging blood over the frozen, horror-stricken men, rousing a prudent few into flight. Finally, with a sickening tear, the ogre’s head came free of its lifeless body.

Kesh averted his gaze just before the head was devoured, but his wooden shell was no match for the crunching and smacking noises that vividly narrated the deed. Unable to stop himself, he vomited.

Cries of alarm and terror rang through the courtyard once again as the beast turned on the living with a roar.

Kesh tried not to weep, afraid the action would reveal his presence. He just had to remain still and not run.
Do not run
, he repeated to himself, even as other men screamed in panic.

Kesh prayed it would be enough to distract the monster and lead it away from his hiding place. He wasn’t ready to die.
Please, Eos, save me.

Jagger tapped an index finger against his stubbled chin as he looked through one of the broken windows, down into the courtyard. The creature had left, but he could still hear its barks and howls fading into the distance. He might never come to know what that creature was, and to be honest, he hoped he would never see its like again.

He had watched the destruction of his business from this vantage with Mitchum. His lieutenant and two guards had begun to rush down to join in the battle, but Jagger had held them back.

He glanced over at one of the two guards, who was slumped against a wall some distance from the vomit that had spewed from him during the horrid displays of butchery below.

Three more men would have made little difference in the face of
that
force of nature. Whatever it was, it had paid no more attention to the men that assailed it than a storm paused over saplings. Ragg had given it some pause, but the ogre had been his own particular brand of storm.

Jagger shook his head over the losses he had suffered that night, and he turned back to the window.

Below, Chancellor Tomelen began to crawl gingerly from the trough, looking anxiously in every direction. A distant howl from the creature almost sent him back to his shelter, but he began to slowly make his way out of the mire and muck, heading for a water barrel that had miraculously survived the wanton destruction.

Leaving Ordair’s Keep was obviously going to be necessary. Even if that
thing
never came back, the indigenous creatures of this region would be drawn to the smells of the carnage. Depending on what came calling, it could be difficult to hold the walls with the few men that had survived. Also, his reputation demanded that he reclaim the princess and erase the man who had thought to rescue her.

Jagger turned from the window to face the three men with him. “Mitchum, it’s time to pull this cursed mess together. Gather what remains of the men and supplies. We are leaving.”

Mitchum nodded slowly and left the room, and his voice began to call out to those who had survived the night.

Jagger looked at the pair of lingering men. “You two, come with me.”

The chancellor splashed his face and gargled water, frantically trying to get the taste of pig urine out of his mouth. He had survived. That was at least one thing to be happy about. The night had begun so well, and then that...
thing
had ruined it all. Weeks of planning, and the risks he had taken to find himself here. All of his efforts would be for nothing if the princess had escaped during the chaos.

“You look well. Considering,” said Jagger.

Kesh looked up from the fetid water.

The mercenary leader with his scarred face and his mismatched plate armor stood behind him with two of his henchmen.

“Do you have a bathing tub?” Kesh asked. “I am in sore need.”

The scarred man chuckled.

Kesh had always disliked the sound. It made him think the brigand leader was laughing
at
him.

“I believe the river is your best option,” Jagger said with an inviting wave. “Come, I will show you.” He walked toward an opening in the Keep’s fortification at a quick pace. The two armored men followed him on either side. None of them looked back.

Kesh got to his feet and did his best to keep up. His legs still trembled as he moved away from his shelter into the open.

The remaining men of the mercenary’s band began to hurry about the compound, gathering scattered supplies and tending to the wounded.

The opening Jagger and his men had ducked through turned out to be a short tunnel with stairs that led down through the foundation of the wall and past a broken and twisted portcullis. A small, hidden niche in the rock harbored an eddy of the river just before it rounded the Keep and dropped steeply, turning the calm water into rough rapids.

Jagger gestured to the pool. “I believe this should provide what you seek.”

“Yes, thank Eos.” Kesh tromped past the three men and fell into the pool, welcoming the freezing waters that purified his soiled flesh and clothing. Rumbling from the rapids below provided the only sound in Kesh’s ears as he sank to the bottom of the murky water, scrubbing furiously to free himself of the filth.

Clouds of muck streamed from him, obscuring the crystalline water of the pool, but as hard as he scrubbed, Kesh feared the foulness would never come off. He clawed at his ruined clothes and dragged them over his head. He knew in his heart he would never be able to clean this experience from his mind. He shuddered in the water and clawed his way back to the surface.

The air was cold and crisp, and it burned his throat as he gulped it in. Thin columns of steam drifted from his pinkened skin. He felt almost reborn after his purging in the icy waters of the Tanglevine. An arm was offered to him and he took it gratefully.

Kesh was hauled from the pool. He looked at Jagger and asked, “Was the princess taken?”

In response, the mercenary punched him in the eye.

Lights danced across Kesh’s vision and he fell backward. The iron grip Jagger had on his arm arrested his descent and he was hauled back up to be punched in the face again. “Wait!” he managed to sputter.

Another blow.

“Stop!” Kesh’s voice slurred.

Another.

The vice around his arm released suddenly, and he fell to his knees, spots in his eyes.

Through gritted teeth, Jagger finally spoke. “Why”—his knee shot out and caught the side of the chancellor’s head—“should I not”—he offered Kesh a kick to the stomach—“kill you now?”

Kesh collapsed on the ground with his ears ringing, unable to speak through ragged coughs.

“Oh, speechless are we?” Jagger spread his hands with an exasperated look on his face. “Perhaps you need another swim.”

Rough hands grabbed hold of Kesh and he was hauled back into the pool.

“No. Wait!” Kesh slurred a second time.

One of the two thugs holding his arms grabbed a handful of his hair and dunked his head underwater. He struggled against his captors to no avail. Just as his lungs failed and he began to draw in water, his head was hauled up. Paroxysms of coughing and wheezing shook his frame.

Jagger paced along the bank of the little pool. “You see. If I kill you, I don’t have to worry about the damage to my reputation. If you’re gone, who’s to say our deal ever existed?” He stopped and looked at Kesh. “I can endure losses. Even considerable losses.” Jagger raised a hand and tapped at his chin with one finger. “But if you aren’t around to tell the tale, I won’t have to worry about the stain on my honor. I won’t have to worry about you.” He nodded at his men.

Kesh’s head went under again. This time they waited until he had actually sucked in some water before pulling him out. Another raging fit of coughing racked his body. Liquid streamed from his nose and mouth.

“So, can you tell me why I should not kill you?” Jagger leaned forward with hands on his knees and smiled his twisted smile.

Kesh’s shivering now had little to do with the temperature of the water or the air. He was going to have to tell the truth. At least, he was going to have to tell most of the truth. He sagged in the two brute’s arms. “I am not your
actual
employer.”

“Ah, I see.” Jagger straightened, and placed his hands behind his back. He looked as if he had expected to hear exactly this answer. “Well, then, who might my employer be?”

Kesh’s laugh in response to the question was a trifle desperate. “Do you take me for a complete fool?” His eyes had begun to swell shut, so it was difficult to focus on the scarred man. “You only need know that he is a powerful man—”

Jagger’s scornful laughter cut Kesh off. “And I am to just take your word on this?” He motioned to his henchmen.

“No, wa—” Kesh’s head went under for a third time, and again, they held him until he took in water. He was going to have to give them
something
, some kind of proof, or these men
would
kill him.

“I will be breaking things next. Then, we move to cutting.” Jagger bent down on one knee. “Give me a name.”

“I have proof,” Kesh managed to say, his voice weak but harsh. “In my saddlebags.” He hated the thought of exposing himself further, but he didn’t see any other choice.

The brigand leader looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “What saddlebags?”

Kesh attempted to point. “My horse is tied up in the trees just across the river.” At least he hoped they were still where he had left them.

“Show me,” the rogue commanded.

The henchmen dragged the chancellor from the river and threw him to the ground in front of Jagger.

The scarred man, still on one knee, leaned close. “This had better be good, Kesh. You’ve cost me dearly by bringing that demon into my camp.” He grabbed a handful of Kesh’s hair and pulled him to his feet. “I expect compensation.” He shoved the chancellor forward.

Soon, Kesh found himself stumbling through the jungle before Jagger and the men who had joined them as they left the Keep. His mind raced, trying to formulate a plan that would get him out of this alive. The document he was about to retrieve and hand over to the rogue was something he should have destroyed immediately after reading. Thank Eos he hadn’t. The seal on that little slip of paper could possibly save his life—temporarily, at least.