41 – What Horrors Await

  Ward fidgeted in his new armor—a thick leather shirt with metal plates and scales sewn over his vitals. It would be great armor to avoid getting chopped in the kidney, but it would only stop piercing attacks that hit one of the plates; there were plenty of areas where a well-placed arrow, bolt, or knife could do some damage. Still, it was comfortable, fit him perfectly, and weighed about one-tenth as much as his old ring-mail shirt. It was a trade-off. He’d found the other armor so uncomfortable that half the time, he didn’t wear it at all, especially while traveling. How effective was an armored vest if it was in a saddlebag?

  “Smells like you just oiled that,” True said, eyeing the armor that currently occupied Ward’s mind.

  “It’s new.” Ward looked up at his companions—True and her deputy, Lazlo. They both wore leather overcoats, but their clothes underneath were cloth. True was armed with her pistol and a short, broad-bladed sword that looked like it was meant for hacking through bones in a butcher’s shop. Lazlo carried a breech-loading rifle, and an axe hung from his belt. He was a wiry, hard-looking man with a bald head, a long, hawkish nose, and the eyes of a predator.

  “When’s your team coming? Starting to wonder if it was just you all along, and you got me out here ’cause you thought I was cute.”

  Ward smiled at True’s dry humor. He was starting to like her. “They’ll be coming along. You’re the one who didn’t want to involve the city watch.”

  “Hah, if Dame Ruby’s a part of this, there’s no chance I’m trusting that foppish watch captain. He’s always been in the pocket of the nobility, and Ruby’s on the funding committee.” She spat some brown saliva onto a cobble. Apparently, smoking wasn’t on the menu when it came to skulking around a noble estate, but she was fine with chewing tobacco.

  They were waiting on the far end of a covered footbridge over a narrow river that, according to Keene, traversed Ruby’s estate. All they had to do was follow the water up into the woods, and they should find a small boat launch and a locked gate leading into the hillside. The sun had set nearly an hour ago, and though he wouldn’t admit it to Marshal True, he was starting to worry about Haley and Lisa.

  He watched as True sat down on a low stone wall beside the quiet road and began running a sharpening stone over the edge of her sword. Frowning, he drew his sword a few inches out of the scabbard and felt the blade's edge with his thumb. It was sharp but had definite rough spots. Considering the section he was testing was near the hilt, he figured the rest of the blade was probably worse. Disappointed in himself for letting the blade get so bad, he let it slide back into the scabbard; he wouldn’t air his own dirty laundry in front of new friends.

  “Someone’s coming,” Lazlo announced, shifting his rifle so the barrel still pointed down but in the general direction of the sounds of incoming footfalls from around the bend. Ward strained his ears and heard Lisa’s voice, as well as the thuds of several boots on the cobbles.

  He waved a hand toward Lazlo. “It’s my friend.” The man nodded, but Ward didn’t see the gun move. He was ready for trouble. Ward took a couple of steps toward the corner, and then shadowy figures came into view, one with bright eyes under a deep hood. He waved. “Lisa.”

  “Ward!” She hurried forward, and the three men behind her quickened their steps. They were large fellows, all wearing dark clothes and clad in varying degrees of armor. Ward saw one with a dull gray breastplate, and the others wore all sorts of leather pads and straps over their clothing. None were lightly armed; from axes to swords to alchemical pistols, they looked ready for trouble.

  When Lisa got a little closer, Ward turned to True, still sitting on the wall, slowly drawing that stone over her blade. “This is Marshal True and her deputy Lazlo.”

  “Hello, Marshal.” Lisa stepped toward her, nodding. “I’m Lisa DeGrand.”

  “Oh, aye? Ward told us he had a noble family providing aid, but I didn’t guess we’d see a DeGrand out here in the cold and dark.” She nodded to the three men. “House soldiers?”

  “My cousin’s, yes. We didn’t think going to the city watch would be wise.”

  “Smart lass.” True spat her tobacco juice to the side and then stood, slamming her blade into its sheath. “So, we ’eading in?”

  Ward shook his head. “Still waiting for my other companion.”

  “Haley’s not here?” Lisa’s voice held a poorly disguised note of concern.

  “She’ll be here. She was selling a bunch of horses—that’s never quick.” Ward had only sold horses once and had no idea how quickly it usually went, but he wanted to reassure himself as much as anyone else.

  “We probably don’t need her,” True said, stepping one foot over the low wall as though she was about to start trudging down the bank to the river.

  “Marshal, for one thing, I’m waiting for her, and for another, you’ll be glad if she’s along. She’s a hell of a fighter.”

  True stepped her other foot over the wall and then sat down again. “I’ll wait awhile. If she don’t come, though, what then? I thought you said this cult was a threat to the city.”

  “It is!” Lisa said before Ward could respond. “They’ve corrupted the inner circle of the Oathbound. If you know my family, you’ll know my father was a founding member and a good man! A pillar of this society!”

  “Hey now, Miss Fancy Shoes, nobody said your family wasn’t a bright and noble beacon in the dark, dreary gutters the rest of us live in.”

  “No,” Lisa frowned, looking at Ward for help.

  “Marshal, Lisa’s not used to working with bitter, sarcastic shitheads like us. She’s just trying to say that if members of the Oathbound have been corrupted, there’s no telling how far it goes.”

  “Yeah, I get it. So? If your friend don’t—”

  “Someone’s coming,” Lazlo interrupted, lifting his rifle to his shoulder again. Ward glanced at the man. Sure, he’d been talking to Lisa and the Marshal, but he was still surprised by the deputy’s excellent hearing. Now that everyone was quiet, he, too, could hear the soft steps approaching. He lifted his nose and inhaled slowly and deeply—sure enough, he caught a whiff of Haley’s scent, something he hadn’t even realized he was aware of.

  “It’s her,” he said, smiling at Lisa.

  “You’ve got good ears to tell that,” True observed, giving Ward a sidelong glance.

  Ward didn’t say anything. Why not let her wonder? For all she knew, he was employing sorcery. Before they’d come out, before True had committed to helping him, she’d made Ward swear a few things while she held her little truth talisman—the same sort of device Marshal Aldiss had used. Satisfied that he wasn’t deceiving her, she’d gone all-in, sending one deputy to fetch the men they’d left bound in the forest lodge stables and bringing the other along on what would undoubtedly prove to be a dangerous mission.

  Haley came around the corner, her face shrouded in the shadows of her silky blue cloak. When her pale eyes glinted in the lanternlight, and she caught sight of Ward and the others, she hurried forward. “Sorry I’m a little late; one of the buyers insisted on his partner coming to inspect a couple of the horses. First, he said he’d be ‘right there,’ but then it turned into a ‘few minutes,’ and then it was an hour. If I didn’t love horses…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

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  “Not a problem. The sun only set a little while ago.” Ward pointed to True. “This is the marshal, but she insists everyone call her True.”

  “Not everyone, Ward, but you and your friends, sure.” She nodded at Haley. “Interesting eyes, miss. Haley, was it?”

  “That’s right. Haley. I was exposed to some dark sorcery, and my eyes tell the tale.” She looked around the group. Then settled her gaze on Lisa. “Your cousin’s men?”

  “Three of them, yes.”

  Lazlo held up a hand. “I’m the marshal’s deputy, Lazlo. She never introduces me.”

  True spat more tobacco juice. “That’s because you’re more dog than man. Now hush and scout ahead.” She jerked her head down the embankment, and Lazlo hopped the little stone wall and padded near-silently down to the water’s edge.

  Ward watched him go, and then he turned to everyone else. “Listen up. We’re going to run into opposition. I don’t know how much, but even if we slip through entirely unnoticed, we have to deal with the people who stole an evil artifact; they don’t intend to just hang it on a wall for decoration. They’re going to feed it blood from a real evil little asshole—”

  “Who killed my family,” Haley growled.

  Ward nodded. “Right. He’s a murderer, and that’s before the magic in that talisman starts twisting his mind. His name’s Sonder Yates, and Dame Ruby and her crew are going to use him as a vessel for whatever is inside that thing.” Ward shifted his glare from the DeGrand guards to Lisa, then past Haley to True. “There are demons in these people. Real, literal demons. They aren’t just bad folks; they’re empowered by the magic of evil creatures. We dealt with one already, and I saw him doing things a normal person shouldn’t be able to do. Don’t pull any punches.”

  True folded her arms, nodding along, but when Ward finished, she asked, “If they’re possessed, shouldn’t we try not to kill ’em?”

  Ward sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Just don’t get yourself killed in the process.”

  The marshal stooped to pick up her leather pack, and it clanked with the movement. “I’ve shackles in here. We can bind any we don’t kill with ’em. Call out and, and I’ll throw a pair your way.”

  “Good thinking, Marshal.” Ward acknowledged as he stepped over the wall and started down the slope. He’d barely reached the bank of the narrow river when he heard a footfall and looked up to see Lazlo slipping out from behind a large tree bole.

  “Two men watching the gate,” he hissed.

  Ward finished descending, and then, as the others caught up, he looked at Lisa. “Can you put two people to sleep with that spell of yours?”

  Leaning on her staff, she nodded. “Yes, but I can only cast it once, and it’s not exactly easy on me.”

  “We should save it if we can, then.” Ward turned back to Lazlo. “Is there room to sneak up?”

  “Not really. The trees are cleared for a dozen paces around the gateway. I could try circling around to get ’em to look my way.”

  Ward nodded. “We need to keep it quiet. No gunshots.”

  “Right,” True said, starting forward. “Run on and make a distraction, Laz. We’ll get in position.”

  Lazlo narrowed his hawk-like eyes, but he didn’t complain. He darted off between the trees, his steps uncannily quiet. Ward and the others all followed behind True. He wasn’t sure he liked True taking the lead, but he had to respect that this was her turf. He’d gone to her for two reasons—help and legitimacy. If they ended up killing a noble or two, he wanted a marshal on his side, someone who’d seen what happened and whose authority couldn’t be disputed.

  They didn’t have to walk far before True paused behind a thick tree and squatted, motioning for everyone to approach silently. When Ward knelt beside her, he could see why: only a few more trees separated them from a small clearing. A rowboat floated in the stream, tied off to a small jetty, and a bright torch burned in a sconce beside a cave opening in the hillside. Stone blocks, mortared in place, held up a sturdy iron gate, and two men in heavy cloaks lurked outside it.

  Both men were seated, one on a tree stump and the other on a large stone block that matched the ones in the wall. Neither was paying much attention to his surroundings. It looked like the guy on the stump was cleaning his nails, and the other was leaning forward, elbows on knees. Ward wasn’t sure if he was even awake. Ward looked at Haley, crouching beside him, then at True, and whispered, “You two get the guy who’s half-asleep. I’ll get the one with the knife.”

  “We should wait for Laz’s signal,” True said.

  Ward frowned. He wasn’t sure a distraction would be better than surprising the two while they were unaware, but he clenched his fists and nodded. Haley nudged him, and he looked at her in time to catch a quick grin, the moonlight reflecting on her teeth. She knew he didn’t like not being in charge. He could only imagine what Grace would say, but she didn’t want the marshal’s eyes on her.

  So, they waited. Ward gripped his sword hilt, ready to rip it free. While the others hunched there, thinking their thoughts, dealing with their inner demons and nerves, he listened and smelled, savoring the information his other senses gave him. He could smell the two men—their sweat, their breath, something they ate recently, heavy with garlic and pepper. He could hear the one with the knife, each scrape of the blade under his nails like a nail dragging across woodgrain.

  Something came to him, wafting on a breeze from the direction of the river—alcohol and blood and the unmistakable musk of an unwashed man. He jerked his head that way, staring toward the boat. “I think there’s a third guard,” he whispered. “In the boat.”

  “Rat shit!” True hissed, but then, like a drunken reveler who’d lost his way, Lazlo came out of the trees on the other side of the clearing, stumbling and singing to himself as he fumbled with his belt.

  “Oh, her eyes were green as the springtime leaves, and her smile could steal the dawn. She laughed as she danced through the evening breeze, but by morning, she was gone.”

  “Oy! What the fuck are you doing down here, halfwit?” The guy with the knife jumped to his feet, and the one who’d been nodding off also rose, looking around with bleary eyes. He pulled a pistol out of his belt, and both men approached Lazlo, who’d managed to unbuckle his pants and was doing an excellent job of looking like he could barely stand up.

  True grabbed Ward’s shoulder and hissed, “You check the boat; the rest of us can get these two down.” Then she waved at the men Lisa had brought, and everyone charged out of the trees. Ward slipped to the left, hoping they’d drop the guy with the pistol before he could fire off a shot.

  He’d only taken a few steps when he saw he was right; the boat was rocking as a shadowy figure stood up and hopped to the dock. The third guard stared toward the shore and beyond, where a definite scuffle was breaking out as heavy thuds resounded—the sounds of True and the others pounding the two guards into submission. Ward’s target fumbled under his cloak, likely to grab a weapon, and Ward leaped at him, clearing two feet of shore, the rowboat, and landing on the dock with a thud and the crack of a plank giving way under his boot.

  The man in the hood whirled on him, yanking a bright, curved knife out from under his cloak. His eyes were red and luminescent, and his expression wasn’t startled or afraid. It was hungry and excited. He practically leered, and Ward was sure the man licked his lips when their eyes met in the darkness. Ward yanked his sword out of its scabbard, but not before the red-eyed man plunged his knife at Ward’s heart. The tip of the dagger skittered off an armored plate in Ward’s vest, but it found purchase between it and the next bit of armor, digging through the leather to puncture at least two inches at an upward angle into Ward’s pectoral muscle.

  Ward grunted and thrust his sword at the man’s guts, grinning savagely as he felt the sharp point bite through cloth and flesh, sinking deep into his belly. To his dismay, the man didn’t even flinch, and he certainly didn’t die. He yanked his knife out and plunged it back down, aiming for Ward’s throat. Ward growled and threw up his left arm, catching his opponent’s knife-wielding wrist. Then, he drove his right arm forward, pushing his sword deeper until he felt it strike bone, grinding on the fellow’s spine.

  He twisted the sword with a growl and then pushed the man back, yanking hard, pulling the blade free in a shower of splattering blood and viscera. The red-eyed guardian finally showed some humanity, grimacing as he swayed for balance. His face went white, and it seemed, even if he was immune to pain and didn’t care that he’d taken a mortal wound, his body still required blood. Ward was sure he’d severed his abdominal artery; blood was pumping out like a bathtub spigot.

  The man stumbled back, falling to his butt on the little jetty, and then he collapsed to the side, his dagger-wielding arm flopping off the side as the blade fell, sinking into the cold water. “Damn my eyes,” True said from behind him. “Did you see that fella’s face? Think he had a demon in him?”

  “Yeah,” Ward grunted, pressing his hand to his bleeding chest.

  “You need me to look at that?”

  “Nah, it was shallow.” He looked back toward the gate and saw the rest of their party standing around two slumped figures. He watched as Lisa and Haley worked on the gate; Haley was trying her magical key. “You kill those others?”

  True shook her head, thumping a fist into her palm. “Naw. They went down like a couple o’ lambs. Shackled and gagged.” She nodded toward the gate. “Ready to head in?”

  Ward nodded, gripping his sword in his fist. “Yeah,” he grunted.

  True clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, mate. Let’s see what other horrors await, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”