Take the Darkness...: Epic Fantasy Series (6 page)

Chapter 11

Josettes back ached from the long travel, sitting on the hard wooden seat of the old wagon as it bumped and bounced along the disused trail from Black Rock to Pellota. They had left that morning, and in a wagon like this, the trip would take a day at least. She knew that within a few hours the Dukes army would start his first night of attack, and she hoped her troops would fare well. She sat in the wagon staring back at Flint, who sat across from her, his big knees hitting hers every few moments. The chests of gold placed under his seat could be heard clinking softly inside the lid.

Her archer’s hood was drawn fully over her face and she was little more than a small hooded figure sitting there in silence. She could speak Northern, but didn’t talk to him, his brother, or the other Black Rock man. She was too busy thinking about the task at hand and trying to make herself ready for it. She trusted the man Goldie about as far as she could throw him, which was to say not at all. He had the smug look of a gambler who often won and had seemed much too happy to take the gold to find these mercenaries, and then much too disappointed when she, Flint, and Stone had gotten into the wagon. The big Northern brothers were dumb, but they looked loyal. They talked about Seth in almost hushed tones, as if he was something to be revered.

She understood because she felt so close to the same way. He was the one of the only men who had shown her any kindness in this life. He’d saved her that night when the guard had tried to cut her down. He’d tackled the man hard with no thought of his own injuries, and then with blood of his own dripping from him, his first words were to ask if she was alright. She remembered that moment so vividly, his eyes looking on her, concern so clear in them. Later, he’d called her ‘beautiful’ and kissed her. She knew it was as much for the morale of the troops as for her herself, but still it was the first kiss she’d wanted to give to a man since she was young, the first one she hadn’t been forced to give.

Now, she had a mission to either get these mercenaries, the Red Bastards, to come to the fight and actually fight, or to find an agent of the King and convince him to send word to the King. She almost had to laugh that it was her in this position, of all the people they could have picked. A former pleasure slave, murderer and now mercenary. Josette didn’t feel like she was the best woman for the job, but she also knew why Duchess Elizebetha had picked her. She would never let Seth down as long as she drew breath. She knew he’d never be hers, but that didn’t mean she would stop how she felt. It was silly, but it felt good to love a man, even if it was one she’d only met a few times. She felt some of her hate towards all men starting to let go, just thinking of him.

She had begun to hear passing voices, horses, and other wagons, and she knew they must have joined the main trade road. They had held their breath upon leaving the Keep, hoping the Duke wouldn’t have men on this old trail, but he didn’t. Now they were so close to Pellota, and still she had no idea what they would do on arriving.

The wagon finally pulled to a stop and she knew they had reached the main gates. It was late, so the wagon was going to be inspected.  She heard Goldie speaking and joking with the guards in Pellosi; at least he was good at something. A leather clad hand pulled aside the fabric of the wagon’s back flap and a helmeted head of a young guard peered in. He wore the red of the city watch and a bored looking face. His eyes passed over her completely and looked at the two huge Northern passengers. Goldie called something out and the young man laughed and shut the curtain.

Within moments they were rolling through the gate and into the city. She could smell it through the canvas of the wagon, and soon heard the hustle and bustle of people, wagons, and hawkers on the streets crying their wares. This was a trading city, and even though the sun had gone down a few hours ago, it was still lively. She knew this place well and liked it well enough. She’d had some of the best times of her life here. This was the place she’d been inducted into the Cold Death, where she’d learned to use a bow and take back her strength. Before she’d been so lost and worthless, but Dagosh had saved her from the noose and more, and now she was someone. Still, she stayed clear of the city itself, especially on nights like this. She was still a pretty girl, and walking alone in any of these darkened streets would require a dagger and the will to use it.

The wagon stopped again and she heard Goldie jump down from the driver’s seat. Soon he was at the back curtain smiling with his smug face. He looked to Flint and Stone. ‘Okay, all. We’re here at the happy merchant. You and you,’ he said, pointing at Josette and the Black Rock guard. ‘Stay with the gold and we’ll go explore.’

Josette pulled back her hood and looked him in the eye with her clear green ones. ‘My name’s Josette, and I’m with you.’ She said simply.

Flint and Stone laughed, but Goldie’s face went a little red. ‘You’re no use in a tavern, except on your back, so you can fucking stay here.’ She felt such a rage build in her. She stood up from her wooden seat and shoved past him, starting towards the tavern. She heard him shout ‘fuck’ from behind her, but in the next moment she had pushed open the heavy wooden door and was inside.

She’d been here a few times before because, as far as taverns went in Pellota, this one was all business. Even a girl sitting alone would be left alone because people came here to trade and talk business. Besides that, she had a habit of drawing her dagger and placing it on the counter in front of her. She sat at the polished wooden bar, drew her long steel dagger, and did just that, placing it on the bench in front of her. It was a busy night and groups of people sat in the leather-seated booths, talking quietly with drinks and food on platters between them. Soft music came from the stage where a single old man sat playing a flute as if to himself.

There was a lively hum of business and she saw many open ledgers on the tables between the men sitting at them. They were all dressed like the fat one, Rosen, who had betrayed them. Bright colours and expensive tailoring. She stood out like a sore thumb, with her leather archer’s tunic and hood, and her long bow and quiver across her back. Her red hair in a long pony tail also didn’t help. Many of the patrons looked over to her, but then each looked away quickly as a very angry Goldie sat down hard next to her, along with Flint, who sat down on her other side, his body pressing against hers as he tried to fit on the small stool.

The bartender was a well-dressed man who smiled at them, but looked very nervous. His face was timid and weak, with a thin moustache to match his thin body, but he spoke in a friendly way.

‘Welcome, travellers,’ he said, looking at her dagger on the bench and away again. ‘How can I serve tonight?’ He asked.

‘You can fetch us two ales and water, we bring regards from Master Rosen and the Brave North,’ he said loudly so all could hear. He was speaking in a drunken voice even though she knew he was stone cold sober.

She’d thought it was a mistake coming here, but now saw his game, and it was smart in a way. If the Red Bastards were in the city then they would be well aware of the conflict at Black Rock. Rumours travelled fast in this city, and if they heard the Brave North were in this tavern then they would come. Everyone knew it was the Northerners who had hired Dagosh’s mercenaries, and even the sight of Flint would have mouths running. Moments later, she saw two different people leave quickly out the door. One was a small boy of a young age who’d been sitting with a trader that looked like his father, and another was a semi-drunk looking city guard, who was off duty, she hoped.

‘I’ll have an ale as well.’ She said.

The man just nodded and set about pouring their beers from a wooden keg mounted and resting on the bench, and poured them into metal cups with lids. They were the only ones drinking ale. The rest sipped on imported wines and spirits.

‘Regards from Master Rosen.’ The man said eagerly. ‘He’s still with you, then? We did wonder when he rode off with your troops and never returned.’

‘Ah yes,’ Goldie said easily. ‘He finds himself well at home at Black Rock Keep, and to be honest, he’s not really in the position to leave just yet.’

Now the man looked very nervous. ‘And why is that?’

Goldie looked around as if sharing a secret, and saw the entire tavern was watching them and straining to hear his words, but he spoke loudly anyway, playing up the drunken fool. ‘We’re in a battle, man! We’re up against the Duke of Twin Plains and he’s making life fucking difficult!’

She didn’t know if he was overplaying it as she saw another three people almost run out of the door, eager to spread the news. Goldie stood up from the bench and walked to a booth where a young couple were sitting. ‘Move,’ he yelled at them, and they got up from their seats in moments. He sat down heavily and waved her and Flint over.

Once they were sitting down and out of earshot, he whispered to them. ‘Now we wait for them and every other sell-sword in the city to come to us.’

If she’d only been able to see what would happen by coming home, she never would have done it. She would have tossed the coin over the side of “
The Opulent
” and let Minsetta slit her throat in her cabin. But once again, she’d been greedy. Every time she gave into those feelings, bad and terrible things happened. She’d wanted to keep the coin, its power, and now she’d left a wake of dead in her path, and things were just getting worse and worse.

She sat in her room crying uncontrollably as the smell of burning bodies reached her nose. She’d seen the piles of the fallen that Grimm had made the men and women of the Cold Death collect. So many, and all so young. She had stood in the back courtyard and looked on as the mercenaries brought wagon after wagon of the fallen, and piled them up without so much as a word of regret. They didn’t know why they were doing it and some refused to take part, but Grimm had just yelled at them in Northern until they complied. It was a hideous sight. More than a hundred dead boys and men all piled up. Broken bodies, mostly riddled with arrows and eyes open and staring at her, with looks of pain or surprise on their dead faces.

In the corner of the courtyard were piles of arrows, bows, and weapons looted from them. She’d seen Grimm’s reflection cast in the firelight as he’d had them set ablaze, and then she had fled inside and away from the horror. She knew why he had to do it. Dierdra the Duchess would just take the men and share their talents amongst her troops, and soon they would have been facing a force of people like Seth, but still she was sickened by it all.

She couldn’t do this anymore. If it was her they wanted then she’d gladly give herself up if it would stop all of this bloodshed. There were so few left in her Keep now. Almost all of the town’s people had long since fled, and her own guards were left wandering back and forth, taking orders from men they didn’t know to do things she didn’t want them to do. It was all too much. She wondered if life wasn’t better for all under Renton. Sure, he was sick and had killed some of their slaves, but had he brought wholesale death down on them all?

Wiping the tears from her face with her hand, she stood up from her couch. When Seth had been here, at least it was a noble mission she’d felt they could win, and that winning would actually be worth the cost.

Walking to a side panel of a bookshelf in her bedroom, she reached out and pulled a book out. As she did, a small doorway opened to her right. She’d follow the path out and under the Keep, and hand herself over to the Duchess. Maybe she’d stop if she did, or at least she could die and stop this madness.

As she was walking through, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and saw it was Linda, her lady’s maid. She’d been with her since “
The Opulent
”, and years before. They’d travelled the realm together. She held a cup of tea on a silver serving tray in her aged hands. She looked as old as Elizebetha should have, sixty name days at least.

‘If you’re leaving, I’ll come with you.’ She said in a quiet voice.

Elizebetha turned and looked at the aged face of her friend. During this whole ordeal, they had barely talked at all. It was all about battle, war, and tactics. She came away from the doorway and sat back down on her chaise lounge. One more cup of tea, she thought. She took the cup in her hand and let the warm liquid fill her mouth and she swallowed. It was so good, and reminded her of much simpler times in this Keep.

‘I just can’t stand all of this horror. It’s too much, and I’m the cause of it all,’ Elizebetha said.

Linda sat next to her and took her hand gently. ‘You’re not though. It’s always been this way. Your father knew the Dark Guild would always come to our door, and he’d have to fight them... do you think he liked what he had to do? No, but he had to fight them, for they can’t be allowed to win.’

‘But what can I do? I’m not a leader, I can’t defeat the Duke, I can’t even control the men here to protect me.’

‘You're the Duchess!’ Linda nearly yelled. ‘Not them: they will follow you if you command them to.’

‘I don’t want to command, I just want the killing to stop.’

‘It will never stop until the Dark Guild are gone from the land, and even then men will still fight and try take what’s not theirs; it’s just the way of men and kings,’ Linda said, her soft voice familiar once again, reassuring.

‘Well, I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want any of it to be in my name.’

‘You need to talk to someone who can help you, and I think I know who that is.’