Take the Darkness...: Epic Fantasy Series (21 page)

Chapter 46

She felt the tap of Goldie’s foot on her back and that meant ‘attack’. The idiots had not even searched her because she was bound at the hands, but Goldie had tied the rope and tucked her lucky dagger down the back of her leather pants. She leapt with so much fury she couldn’t explain it. She looked up when a huge hand grabbed her fist that was stabbing and stabbing again, she realised she was screaming and completely covered in blood. The destroyed body of the King Bastard lay in front of her. His face unrecognisable as a face at all. Goldie and Skinner had pulled her back and stood around her as she slumped on the floor, her own face covered in his hot blood.

They pulled their own daggers. ‘Back the fuck off, all of you, that was personal and you all know he had it coming.’ Goldie yelled. A group of men from the back came pushing though with swords drawn, but the man Farirkar yelled at them to stop.

‘You’d touch a red-faced one in this tent tonight? Honestly, you young ones have no bloody manners at all.’

‘But she just killed the fucking King!’ One yelled in anger; he was one Skinner had marked as trouble, and now Skinner turned his rat face to the man and let his dagger run back and forth across his knuckles, from one finger to the next, and simply smiled, hoping he would make a move. The man backed down.

The heat in her blood was slowly cooling, and looking at the body, she realised the extent of what she’d done. Her arm was aching, her hand was cut where she’d let the blade slip down, and she was holding it rather than the handle, and her voice was hoarse from screaming. Goldie turned to her and, lifting her from the ground, whispered in her ear as he held her. ‘Beautifully done, little sister, I’ll not let them hurt you. We’ve done it.’ She could hear the pride in his voice. Northern people were strange.

Farirkar yelled at everyone until they were silent and then turned to the aged desert man who stood beside him. ‘Quest, you’re law holder, what is the right of this?’ He asked with reverence intended to make the others feel it. She saw many of the mercenaries bow their heads. How many had this man killed to gain that sort of respect, she wondered.

‘The King was false, a liar, a fool, a bigot. Do you blame a man for hitting back when you strike him first? Do you blame a woman for raising a knife to a man who has treated her worse than a dog? If she didn’t kill him, we would have had to, and that would have been a lengthy trial and taken all week. Really, the question is, who is the new King and when do we get paid?’

She felt a wave of relief as they mostly all nodded. She knew there were many loyal to the old King Bastard, but Skinner and Goldie would get her out alive.

The old man continued, as he had them all hanging on his words. ‘My feelings for the Duke’s army are known, and I’m glad to say my men killed many of his when provoked.’ There was cheering from some here. ‘This one has led us to weakness and shame. I say we paint our faces red and battle tonight as planned, but we turn our swords to that bitch Duchess and take back our gold.’

He turned to Goldie and she felt him squeeze her hand: he’d been waiting for this. ‘You, you say she has it; can you assure this?’ He asked.

‘As you can see, I didn’t come alone into this camp. I have spies in both. I can say without a doubt that there is four hundred gold in her camp atleast, and maybe more.’

‘Ahh, four hundred, only? Much less than promised, so can you sweeten that?’ He asked.

‘Of course, if you fight tonight and only tonight, I will give every man a gold coin for each one he kills!’ Goldie shouted.

There was a huge cheer at that, the bloodthirsty ones imagining themselves getting rich that night.

Farirkar spoke. ‘This sounds like a very good deal, and what the Red Bastards should be getting paid! Now, to the matter of the King.’ He pulled the body of the Bastard off of the chair and let it slump to the floor. He sat in it himself.

‘Normal rules, anyone disagrees can challenge or leave the camp immediately,’ he said in a deadly voice, looking around the tent. Goldie had picked this man well. Josette knew they hadn’t met, but he was going to lead a hell of a fight. There was silence. ‘Good, now get out and prepare or pack, and get rich or fuck off!’

The red-faced men all filed out of the tent in silence, and she knew they would sweep through the camp, telling all what had happened and where they stood; these men were all the minor captains or seconds of Farirkar and Quest. Within an hour the ones left would be ready to fight and earn some blood money.

Farirkar waited until they had all filed out and then motioned for them to come up; he looked at her face and then, reaching out with a huge rough hand, wiped some of the blood off her face. She didn’t flinch, just let him. The beast of a man smiled. ‘Nicely done, girl, I’m sure all present will be treating pleasure slaves with much more respect, if not fear, from now on.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few gold coins and gave them to her. ‘Buy yourself some new clothes, those ones stink like death and you’re too pretty for that,’ he said with a broken smile. She just nodded and stepped back. Mercenaries liked her now, another strange thing. She was one herself she supposed, but so far from these.

‘Goldie, Is it?’ Farirkar asked.

‘Yes, my King,’ he said.

‘You gave us that fucking gold and I’m guessing you gave us copper at the start, but now is it all copper or not? Don’t bullshit, I’m on your side,’ he said.

‘Well, my half is copper and her half is real,’ he said, ‘but I do have my half still, which I will pay gladly to you,’ he said with a bow.

‘You’re a lucky shit, what if he’d gotten a real one?’ He asked.

‘That’s what she was for,’ he said, looking at Josette.

‘Fucking crazy, the lot of you. I like you a lot more than my old employer already. So now we talked details and desertion. When I walk out of this tent, more than half of my men will have run off. He had a lot of followers of the weak stomached, looting and raping variety. We’ll have six hundred men and they still have a thousand, so what do we do? We’re mercenaries, so we won’t fight bad odds,’ he said fairly.

‘The Keep will march with us,’ Goldie said.

‘And how are you going to get through the entire army of the Duchess and back into that place without being killed by your own men in the process?’ the old man asked.

Josette saw him turn to her with a sad smile once again. ‘That’s what she’s for.’

Chapter 47

Silver felt such elation running next to this creature, and realised that there must be some connection between her people and them. They ran through the snow at the same speed. Her loping on her long bare legs and it clawing through the snow like an oversized dog. She almost threw her head back and laughed at the feeling of it. She wished they didn’t have this history, but looking at him, that thick white fur, she almost could pretend it was a different creature, that it hadn’t almost killed her tens of times, and she’d crushed back in return.

‘Stop feeling sorry for me and run faster: you are slow and weak.’
The Wolvern shouted in her mind.

‘I’m as fast as you,’she yelled as they paced on, the wind howling in her ears, ‘and I am sorry.’

‘You misunderstand everything. I let you win so I could be born again, no one can kill me, and certainly not an ugly, skinny thing like you.’
It said and laughed darkly.

‘Want me to try again? Want me to command you to lick your balls?’ She asked and laughed out loud. He was so vain and self-absorbed that it was funny. The creature did believe itself to be the strongest thing on this plain, and well, that would soon be proved.

‘I see two packs ahead, prey and hunters’
it said in her mind.

She looked into the snowy distance and saw, he did have good vision. Ahead of them were a group of the slavering humans being hunted by some of her kind. To say some of her kind was to be very generous. They were beyond horrible. If the things in the city turned her stomach, these looked like they had been left to melt in the sun. It was as if they had once been hugely fat and now they were on the brink of starving. They ran on long impossibly thin legs and arms, but had huge flaps of pale rancid skin hanging from them. Their skin was a mess of scars, wounds, and weeping sores. They just looked like they suffered from a host of sicknesses, they were corrupt in every way she was pure.

‘Well at least you look better than that.’
The Wolvern said in her mind as they approached.

She laughed at him. ‘You have to bite them, so I win,’ she said, and ran faster.

This was the second group they had come across, and they were tough. They fought with the strength of the hopeless. Their minds were as far gone as the humans they chased and tried to eat. They were still strong, but they couldn’t think clearly, her words would have no sway, but still they had to clear the path to the sea and make sure the Druheim made it… besides it was fun.

The group was small enough, only nine of them and the dead humans were vicious little things to try and eat: it was like someone trying to eat a rat while it was still alive. They clawed, bit and fought with a mindless fury of their own.

‘I’ll take the eight on the left, you take the ones on the right.’ She said as she ran in. The Wolvern just howled a deep and powerful sound that turned all attention to them. Silver passed up her traditional leap into the air and, running straight at the first one, leapt at it, pointing her huge sword forward. Her sword plunged through the fetid creature’s chest and she rolled past it, turning as it dropped. They came stumbling at her, she cut left, right, then leapt over one completely and slashed downward as she went. The two dropped side by side and then there was the last as she passed overhead, with a single swipe crushing in the back of its skull. She landed and looked up to see the Wolvern fighting like she’d never seen. It used its awesome height to simply smash them down with its clawed hands. She saw a pile of bodies and one left scrambling towards him. She hefted her sword through the air towards its back, and the massive blade entered and pinned it to the ground as it fell.

She walked up with a grin on her face. ‘That was easy.’ She said. A dead human ran at her and she punched it hard in the face, knocking it back. He got angry when she killed them.

‘Let's get a look at this sea, I can smell it.’
The Wolvern said in her mind.

They ran from the scene of their carnage as the dead humans fell on the bodies. What a creation, she thought, everything just eating everything else. Mother Moon would be disgusted.

She followed the Wolvern and saw it slow down as it came close to a rise in the land, and then crouch down very low. She stopped her run and, dropping to her naked belly in the snow, crawled on her hands and knees up to him. She looked out at the scene before her and shuddered. Before them was the sea. Somehow, it wasn’t frozen over, but liquid as ever. She’d never seen it before and it was so beautiful, but all along the shore, they stood, hundreds and hundreds of her forgotten and ruined kindred. They all sat like bored children, just waiting.

Chapter 48

Elizebetha was such a naive fool that it really made her laugh; at first she’d thought it would be hard to get a strong and loyal heart like Grimm to turn, but she was doing all of the work for her. First, she’d embarassed the man in front of troops he’d trained. Making them draw weapons against a man who had led them in battle and won. Next, she ignored her knowledge of Seth, making him feel like she didn’t care about Seth, and finally she’d tried to take his hard-won gifts, and pushed him into the arms of her enemy to protect them.

Minsetta viewed herself as a simple creature, and this right now was a very simple thing. It was a blessing really. Time in the sun that wasn’t earned and had to be enjoyed. She had failed badly. She’d let her feelings for Seth cloud her thoughts, and she’d paid the price. She’d felt no hatred towards him, even as she’d felt the teeth of that beast tearing into her as he screamed for it to stop. She would have killed him, but she felt guilt about it at least. She had forgotten what guilt was when she was one hundred, and that had still been well before Seth’s grandfather was born. Still, that boy was the Druheim and she would help him.

At first it was dreams. She dreamt of her own memories, sacrifices, and the life she had led, the power she’d had, but it was different when she was seeing it from someone else’s eyes, she felt a judgement that she’d never felt from herself; and then one day she awoke. Or rather, he woke and she could see what he saw. She was floating like a ghost behind Seth’s eyes; she couldn’t speak or push him, but she could see, listen, and think. She saw him take the Northern slaves and free them, burn the library she wanted so much. She saw him kill the desert woman and even felt him take her. It was exhilarating as she felt it all, and she knew it all, even the darkest secret of the Guild, and on he went, cutting a bloody path through the world that lead him right to Black Rock and the Duke.

When he’d created that rift and crossed, she’d hoped something would happen, but it hadn’t. He took the coin into him and still nothing. He was being controlled by that silver bitch, and then she herself had tried to help, but he couldn’t hear her voice. She saw that little blonde rat Seraphina, how her powers had grown, and then finally, finally she heard it. The call. A Northern call. Out across the plains. Her actual body must have been stumbling around mindlessly near it, and she’d just let go. She hadn’t realised she had been holding on, but she had, and she rushed though the rift and heard the words she’d said so many times. She felt the blood in her mouth and the change. She was back, and all she could think was ‘good old Grimm’: he’d always been one of her favourites to watch in action. She’d viewed Seth’s life like a play, and he was one of have favourite actors.

Now she was back and she intended to stay. Problem was she knew that she’d been brought back weakly. She needed a major sacrifice to maintain her or she’d fade in hours. Either that or she’d need to feed a lot. Still, Grimm looked like he would help her. She had two missions now: restore herself and wipe the Dark Guild from the face of the earth. She saw what they had planned for her; they had gotten her killed and they would regret it. Elizebetha was just an obstacle in turning Grimm as dark as she needed him, but she could live if she got out of the way.

‘So now you’re free and you’ll start to turn within what? An hour?’ Grimm asked, looking at her as she stood in the vineyard. She was already feeling hungry again. ‘Yes, unless Seth brings me back or we kill a few hundred, and then I’ll still need it daily,’ she said as a matter of fact. The hunger was actually gnawing at her now.

‘How much blood do you need?’ He asked her.

‘I have no idea, but I think it will be less from someone who is alive and not dead, it makes sense.’ She said sweetly.

He laughed. ‘Don’t play games okay, just say you want my blood,’ he said darkly.

‘I want your blood,’ she said.

‘First time a beautiful woman has wanted that, but we’ll try.’ He pointed a finger at her. Don’t try to kill me or I’ll break your neck,’ he said.

She could feel the excitement building in her as she stepped closer to him. She pressed her lips to his neck and smelled him. She could smell the blood. Her teeth had started to grow sharp and she sank them into his neck. He winced with pain but didn’t draw back. Tough. She drank slowly and savoured the flavour and life flooding though her. She was right: it was much stronger this way. Did the Guild know this? She drank ‘til the hunger was gone, and she was relieved it was only for a short minute. She drew her lips from his neck and, cutting her finger on her teeth, let her own black blood drip onto his neck. The small wound closed over. He touched his neck, surprised the wound was gone.

‘Did that hurt?’ She asked.

‘Of course it hurt, though it didn’t hurt as much as I’ve been hurt before; how do you feel?’ He asked.

‘Satisfied, I think I’ll be right for hours.’ Grimm shook his head. ‘This is such a fucked situation, and now we’re dependant on each other,’ he said, laughing.

‘That is a very big word for a soldier,’ she laughed back.

He pointed to the body on the ground. ‘That one liked to read.’

‘So what now?’ She asked

‘We go rally our army and try to convince Elizebetha to stop being an idiot; I don’t suppose you’d wear a leash would you?’ He joked with a laugh.

‘No I won’t, we’re not that kind of friends. Now let’s go kill some Dark Guild.’

Josette looked at the gold coins in her small blood covered hand and they winked back like four yellow eyes at her. She looked at the body of the fallen Bastard King and let herself feel what she felt. It was a mistake to assume how you felt about something, she’d always learned, but you actually needed to let yourself experience it. She didn’t try to bring a moral code into it now. Just how did she feel that she, little Josette from pleasure house nine, had stabbed this man to death? She would have expected something, at least, but there was a big empty pit of nothing inside her, and then bubbling up, she felt it. A wicked grin crossed her face: triumph had won over any sort of guilt. She’d done right washing herself in the old waters. The North gods would look on this as a day to celebrate. Her greatest enemy was dead, and humiliated to boot.

‘What are you happy about?’ Skinner asked her as he led her out of the tent to let Goldie plot and plan. She was growing to like the ugly rat-faced man. He was like a scary scarecrow, but she was growing to like dangerous people who wanted to protect her, and she was growing into a dangerous type herself.

‘That, him, this,’ she said with a shrug and laughed, gesturing towards the fallen King.

‘You’re good, kid, I was proud of you; if I hadn’t killed my daughter, I’d wish she had been just like you.’ He looked at her hard and then laughed. She knew no one would ever bed him, and that this was a joke. Joking with killers about killing... well, better than joking with whores about fucking, she thought. She would much prefer to kill a John than screw him. The only man she could bare to touch was Seth, but now some of these others were growing on her. Goldie was a smug prick, but she admired his cocky courage and smarts. He’d played a long game and was looking like he’d be winning it. Even that dead boy Micker had been kind of cute, and he was the type she could give a roll in the hay just because she’d be so much in charge it would be funny. He’d probably die if he saw her naked, if he was still alive.

‘Thanks, Skinner, that means a lot. I wish my father had sold me to you.’ She said. He stopped and looked at her seriously, hand on shoulder in a fatherly way. ‘I’ll tell you what, he was a fool if he got less than three coppers for you.’

‘Fuck you, it was four, thank you very much,’ she said, laughing. She knew he was trying to get her relaxed because she was about to climb once again into the lion’s mouth, and he was giving here some fun in her short life.

‘Now I know you know about this secret entrance, but it’s done. You’ve been in and out like the front door of a tavern and need to change it up. I recommend getting a Twin Plains uniform, going straight at the wall, grapple up in plain sight screaming about the Duke and your rage, and then hoping to fuck you can say Black Rock before you get skewered,’ he said.

‘That’s it? That’s the plan?’ She asked, but knowing it was pretty much hers except the Duke part, which was good.

‘That’s it, you little rat, you scurry up that wall and save the day, if you make it we’ll win, if you fail we lose, and we’re all dead, nothing too important. Nothing you wouldn’t trust to the hands of a twenty-year old assassin in training,’ he said. ‘Now get going; we’ll be on the field when we see those gates crack.’

Without another word, she turned and ran off into the field. The set-up was a bad one. To the Keep it must have seemed the whole combined force was out, but it wasn’t. They had planted torches everywhere, but the right side of the field was bare except for a few dozen men running around making noise and pretending. Most of the Duchess’ force was on the left flank. They were waiting ‘til the Bastards got their act together and filled in the right before they would go.

She spotted an empty tent and a pile of uniforms inside. It was a stroke of pure luck and gave her hope. She slipped inside the leather tent and slowly took off her boots, blood-stained leather pants, and tunic. She stood shivering naked and saw she was covered in dried blood, still. She would need such a bath after this. With pleasure, she put on the new clothes and saw one had a black sash. She put it on just in case it helped and departed. Saying good bye to clothes she’d worn for more than a year. She’d miss that hood.

Tucking her bow over her shoulder, she ran up the field and, spotting the first of the men, started her act. She began to scream at the top of her lungs. There was no point in sneaking, not past so many, so acting was her best chance. She pushed past the first line and the second.

‘They killed him!’ She yelled and cried, ‘they killed our Duke, our lord, the pricks must pay!’ The levies parted for the crazed girl and soon she stood right at the base of the wall, looking up at the fire that burned there, and shouted. ‘You fucking bastards, we’re going to kill you all!’ A few of the younger ones screamed along with her, but she knew what was coming.

A captain of some sort came running up to her. ‘Shut the hell up, girl. We’ll take them soon. I don’t want you revving everyone up and doing this badly.’

She took a chance and, reaching out, slapped his face, hard. She saw the red hand print appear on his face and a wall of soldiers in red and black all groaned with shock, they couldn’t believe it. ‘You fucking coward, you should be up there right now! How can you wait, he’s dead, and you do nothing?’ The man began to draw his rapier and then just smiled at her through his red face.

‘Okay, if you’re so bloody brave, up you go, but not one of us is coming,’ he turned to his men and yelled. ‘No one else is going! You show us how brave you are you little bitch with your black sash who thinks you’re so special, prove it!’ She heard jeers from them now, and knew she’d made a good choice on attire.

‘Fine, I will, and you can remember my name when I bring back Elizebetha’s head: it’s Josette, JO-SETT-E.’ Then she calmed down and spoke to him sweetly. ‘But can you throw the grapnel? I’ve never done it.’

He actually laughed out loud. ‘Hear that boys, she’s taking the Keep with just her beautiful tits and arse, but can’t throw a grapnel!’ The captain took a metal hook and long rope from a box near his feet and handed it to a strong looking man next to her with bare arms. She’d been right in thinking this was actually a lot harder than it looked. The man looked and looked, swinging it round in circles, the crowd of soldiers now watching him. The throw was golden. The metal hook spun through the air like a top and into the air above. They heard a slight clink, he pulled it tight, and passed her the rope. No knots in it, even better.

Looking at the rope, she felt a memory of a cutthroat who liked this method of transport. She grabbed it and, pulling herself up, hooked her feet around the rope in a strange fashion that seemed to help. She looked back. ‘See you soon, captain, and remember the name...’

‘Yes, I fucking know, Josette, you’re a real hero, now go and die and let me get back to my cards.’

The men’s laughing fuelled her rage and that’s what she needed as she climbed up the taut rope. She knew from Grimm that his men cut a rope after a three count to make sure the fall was fatal. She counted to five in her head as she pulled her small body up the rope and against the cold stone of the wall. Expecting at any moment to fall to her humiliating death at that captain’s feet. She got one hand over the top of the battlement, and she knew they waited for two if they were doing it the other way. She should be safe from below and she started yelling. ‘Please don’t kill me, it’s Josette, hello, it’s Josette!’ A stern female face looked over the edge right at her, inches away; it was Stellos, and she actually started laughing, and then reached out and pulled her over.

‘God, but you get around, don’t you kid?’

Josette just collapsed on the battlement and started laughing with relief, kicking her legs like a child. She looked up at Stellos. ‘Oh, can you fire a volley right now from where I came from?’

‘Why?’’ She asked.

‘He said I had beautiful tits and arse and didn’t mention my lovely face; it’s just fucking rude.’

‘Done; now go find Grimm... not Elizebetha, Grimm.’