A Sellsword's Will Read online

  “Oh come on, lad,” Hale said. “Don’t tell me you mean to sit behind some walls like a baby lookin’ for her mommy when there’s killin’ needs doin.’”

  Aaron shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He sighed, turning to General Yalleck. “The walls won’t hold—Caleb told me as much, and I believe him. They’d be within the city in a day, two at most.”

  “I do not say that it is a great option,” the general said stiffly, “but that it is the only one. Surely, General Envelar, you do not mean to meet them in the forest—”

  “No,” Aaron said, turning and meeting the big crime boss’s eyes, “and I think you’re overestimating how slow the big ones are. The woods didn’t do much good for the Tenders, when one of those bastards attacked. And you’re not even considering the fast ones—they’d cut us down long before we even thought about retreating.”

  Grinner smiled, obviously pleased. “Well, I must admit that I had not expected to find myself and the sellsword on the same side of this argument, but it should be apparent enough now that the only true option—”

  “Fleeing to Avarest is as sure a way to die as any of the rest,” Aaron interrupted. “As General Yalleck pointed out, the city’s walls are no match even for Perennia’s. Not that we’d ever make it that far—we’d be slaughtered long before then.”

  Isabelle frowned. “What then, General Envelar? If we cannot defend the city or fight in the woods, nor can we flee to Avarest, what are our other options?”

  Aaron sighed, rubbing a hand along his chin. “I don’t know.”

  “Well,” Grinner said, rolling his eyes, “that was useful. Thank you so much for your contribution, General,” he finished, making the last a curse.

  The conversation carried on after that, soon devolving into the two crime lords and the general of Avarest’s armies heatedly arguing their points with the queen, captain, and Adina occasionally interjecting, most often to keep one of the men from killing one of the others. Aaron wasn’t paying attention. He tried to turn the problem over in his head, but he kept seeing the face of the girl he’d killed back in Baresh, the girl who had not been a girl at all, but some monster created by a man’s lust for destruction.

  He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear Adina call his name until she’d laid a hand gently on his arm. “Aaron, what’s wrong?”

  Aaron looked up from where he’d been staring at the table and seeing the girl’s face in his mind, to find the princess studying him with a worried expression. The audience chamber was empty save for the two of them. “Where is everyone?”

  “They’re gone,” Adina said, sounding even more troubled. “They’ve been gone for at least ten minutes.”

  “Oh. Right. Sorry about that.”

  “It’s the girl again, isn’t it?” Adina said, her voice filled with compassion. “You’re thinking of her.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Aaron lied, “it’s just…I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this, Adina. How can you fight a war against things that aren’t even human?”

  Adina took his hand in her own. “We’ll figure it out, Aaron. There has to be a way.”

  There didn’t have to be a way, though. Aaron had learned enough about the world growing up in the Downs to know that life wasn’t always fair. Shit, it usually wasn’t fair. Life, in his experience, liked to wait until a man was distracted and then kick him in the balls. Still, it would do no good to tell her that. He could see her need in her eyes, and through his bond with Co, could feel her desperation to believe that there was hope.

  “You’re right,” he said finally, forcing a smile that felt strange and alien on his face, “we’ll figure it out. I guess I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  Adina nodded slowly, watching him as if he was porcelain vase that might break at any moment. “You haven’t been sleeping well, lately. Every time I wake up, you’re gone.”

  “I’ve just been training, that’s all,” Aaron said. Another lie. The truth was he’d gotten little sleep in the past weeks. His dreams were plagued with visions of men and women being twisted and changed into monsters, of them being hunted through the streets of Baresh like animals, the evil in the city so strong it echoed through the power of his bond even here, so many miles away.

  “Come,” Adina said, finally. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

  “Alright,” Aaron said, rising, “but I can’t make any promises that I’ll be able to go to sleep.”

  Adina smiled the smile he’d come to love, and he found some of his worry fading in the face of it. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  Chapter

  Three

  “Gods be good,” one of the soldiers breathed as he and his companion stood, frozen with shock.

  “Better…if they…were fast,” Gryle gasped, straining under the weight of the cart that was loaded down with a fresh batch of swords for Perennia’s troops.

  “Oh, shit. Right.” The two soldiers hurried forward, coaxing the horses and pulling the cart out of the hole in the road.

  Gryle breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the cart wheel came back down on the cobbles, and he let go, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. He’d expected the two soldiers to ride off then and was surprised when they walked back around and stuck out their hands.

  “Thanks, stranger,” one of them said. “The gods know it would have taken us a couple hours or more to get the cart out, if you hadn’t been around. Like as not, the general would have had us runnin’ laps in full armor for takin’ so long. You’re a life saver.”

  Flushing with embarrassment, Gryle took the first soldier’s hand, then the second. “Um…thanks.”

  “No, thank you,” the second soldier said, “you got us out of a real jam, fella, and we appreciate it. And, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, you’ve got a god’s own strength.”

  Gryle found himself looking at his feet, not sure of what to say, but when he glanced up the men were already back aboard the cart and headed down the road. Gryle watched them go, feeling somehow pleased and embarrassed at the same time. A moment later, Michael and Caleb ran up to him. “That was amazing, Gryle!” Michael exclaimed, the young boy grinning widely and staring at Gryle as if he were some hero out of a story book.

  “I…that is…thank you,” Gryle managed.

  “It really was amazing, sir,” Caleb said, smiling widely. When the youth had arrived back at Perennia with Aaron and the others, he had seemed too serious for his age, his face given to thoughtful expressions that were strange and unnatural on one so young, but lately, around Michael, he seemed like what he was—a thirteen year old boy in a strange city. Surprisingly, he and Beth’s grandson had taken to each other right away, acting now as if they had been brothers their whole lives instead of complete strangers only a few weeks ago.

  “Wasn’t it awesome, Nanna?”

  “Sure it was,” Beth said, coming up behind the boy and rubbing playfully at his hair. “Why, it’s just about like we’re walkin’ around with a real-life hero, ain’t that right?”

  “Sure is!” Michael agreed, grinning widely.

  ***

  They walked on for some time, taking in the city’s sights, such as they were. They had no real destination, no real plan, and that was just how Beth liked it. Besides, it was enough for her to see the children laughing and just being children. A time was coming, she knew, when laughter would be harder to come by, a time when many would be forced to grow old before their time. Say one thing about war—it had a way of making men out of boys. And a pox on the lot of it, she thought bitterly, being sure to school her features so her thoughts didn’t show on her face. She told herself to enjoy the moment—after all, it was all a person really could do, in the end.

  Besides, for her, it was enough to be out and walking, feeling the cool air on her face, and the chamberlain’s comforting presence at her side. She was certain that her old bones would pay for all of the exercise the next day, but what of it? She’d lived long enoug
h to know that everything had a cost—that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth paying.

  She became aware of music drifting on the air, and saw a man standing in front of a nearby shop. He was holding a lute and tapping one foot as his fingers danced across the instrument’s strings with impressive skill.

  Michael spun to her, his eyes wide with excitement. “Can we go listen, Nanna, can we?”

  Beth smiled. “Oh, I ‘spose there’s no harm in it, just so long as Caleb goes with you.” She turned to the youth and saw an expression of eagerness on his face to match her grandson’s, but when he noted her gaze his expression grew serious, and he nodded his head solemnly.

  “I will keep him safe, ma’am,” he said. “You have my word.”

  Beth fought back the urge to laugh. She was a woman made to laugh, she thought, her mother had always told her so, but this time she managed to hold it in. It wouldn’t have been at the boy, of course—she liked Caleb and couldn’t be happier that he and Michael were becoming such fast friends. It was only that she felt fine, better than she had in a long time. Still, he was a thirteen-year-old boy, and she knew from experience that boys of that age were a very particular kind of sensitive. So, instead of laughing, she only smiled, nodding her head solemnly back. “And I thank ya for it,” she said. “Now, you both go on and have you a good listen.”

  They both smiled widely and started away. “Oh, and Caleb.”

  “Ma’am?” The boy said, and Beth grinned as she saw her grandson fidgeting, anxious to be gone.

  She reached into her pocket and handed the youth some change. “You put that in the bucket that fella’s got, won’t you? He deserves as much for makin’ a fine day a little finer with his music.”

  Caleb grinned, “Yes ma’am.”

  Beth watched them go then turned to the chamberlain. “Thick as thieves, those two, and no doubt bound to get up to mischief as only boys can.” She noted that Gryle was busy wiping ineffectually at the dust and dirt that had stained his tunic from when he’d been holding the cart, and cackled. “Oh, Gryle, why don’t you lay off it? In my youth, I always thought a little dirt looked good on a man—let a woman know he wasn’t afraid of gettin’ to work.”

  He colored at that, his hands dropping to his sides with a speed she wouldn’t have credited him. “O-of course,” he said, clearing his throat, “they…they’re only clothes, after all.”

  He had to force the words out, and Beth laughed again. “Oh, but you are a treat, chamberlain, truly.”

  Gryle shifted uncomfortably, his hands starting for the stain once more before he caught himself and put them back down. “Do…do you think it’s safe?” he said, looking down the street where Michael and Caleb sat on the cobbles listening to the musician. The man had started up a lively tune, and the two boys stood among a gathering crowd, clapping along, smiling and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

  “Oh, I think they’re safe enough,” Beth said, smiling to see the two youths having a good time. “Especially,” she said, turning and raising an eyebrow at the chamberlain, “considerin’ that they’ve got a tried and tested hero in their midst. Any fool comes around plannin’ mischief, well, I reckon he’d better hope there ain’t no church pews handy, eh?”

  Gryle winced as if she’d struck him. “You mock me.”

  Beth frowned, stepping forward and grabbing his chin, so that his gaze was no longer on his feet but on her. “No, Gryle,” she said, her tone serious, “I’d never mock you. You are a hero, no matter what you think. If it weren’t for you, me and the boy both would be dead and buried, if that bastard Aster would have taken the time to bury us, that is, and I don’t reckon there’s much chance of that. Now, you quit walkin’ around like a dog expectin’ to be beat on, won’t you? It’s a fine day—the sun’s shinin’, the wind’s blowin’, and we’ve even got some music. What more could a man or woman hope for?”

  Gryle nodded slowly. “You’re right, of course, Beth. But—”

  “No buts,” she said, her voice filled with mock severity. “My dad used to tell me that shit came out of them more often than not, and I ain’t never seen nothin’ to prove him wrong yet. Now, stop worryin’, Gryle, and enjoy the day.” She turned back to stare at the two boys, and when she spoke again, Gryle could hear the sadness in her voice. “I don’t suppose we’ll be havin’ many more like it, not for a while at least.”

  He nodded, wishing there were something he could say to comfort her but finding nothing. He glanced back at the hole in the street where the wagon had got stuck to take his mind off of his worries. Cobbled paths were well enough, but if left alone they would slowly crumble and fall apart. It seemed to him that most everything did, sooner or later. No matter the scope of the castles men built, no matter the size of the monuments they created for themselves, there would come a day when all the works of men would crumble to dust. There would come a day—many thousands of years from now, he hoped—when the world of men would be nothing but a memory, and then not even that. Time, after all, was the great thief, one which no barred door could keep out.

  He risked a glance at the woman beside him and was relieved to see that she was still staring at the two boys. Forty-five years old, she’d told him, younger than he was himself, yet it was as if time had made a special point of robbing her of her life and her beauty. And she had been beautiful, Gryle thought. Even beneath the wrinkles and the ravages of old age, he could see that. He found a tear gathering in his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. Beth would not appreciate the pity, and she deserved better.

  “There have been many musicians playing in the streets of late,” he commented, more for something to say than any other reason, “mummers and actors, too.”

  “Yes,” Beth said.

  “You would think that they would be preparing themselves,” Gryle said, looking at the crowd gathering around the musician, “getting ready for what’s coming.”

  Beth turned to him and smiled sadly. “Ain’t no gettin’ ready for what’s comin’, chamberlain. There never is. That is one of the biggest lies we tell ourselves. We all end up in our graves, sooner or later—ain’t no amount of walls or swords gonna change that—and if we can smell a few flowers on our way, if we can feel the sun on our skin, then why not? After all,” she said, sighing, “we ain’t nothin’ but visitors in this world and, you ask me, unwelcome ones at that. Ain’t no controllin’ how long we get to stay, and ain’t much of a point worryin’ over it. For some folks, today or tomorrow is all they’ll have. So you find your joy where you can, chamberlain. It’s all any of us can do.”

  Gryle wasn’t able to keep the tears away this time. “I’m sorry, Beth. It’s not fair…about what happened to you. I wish—”

  She turned to look at him and laughed. “Oh, leave it, Gryle. What’s done is done, and what’s comin’ is comin’, that’s all. Ain’t no use cryin’ over it anymore than cryin’ over the sun shinin’ or the grass growin’. It’s the nature of things to die. Still,” she said, smiling sadly, “I like to tell myself, from time to time, that the brightest flames burn out the quickest. Ain’t much consolation in it, but then, you take what you can get in this world.”

  “I bet you burned fiercely,” Gryle said, wiping at his eyes, “I bet you were beautiful.”

  The woman met his gaze, “I guess maybe I was,” she said. “And you know, Gryle, if things had gone differently, if I’d have known you then…well.” She shrugged. “Mayhap, I would’ve played the princess to your knight.” She winked, then sighed. “But things are what they are, and I don’t begrudge ‘em none. Speakin’ of, there’s somethin’ I been meanin’ to ask you. A favor, if you could find your way to grantin’ me one even when I owe you as much as I do.”

  “Name it,” Gryle said, “if it’s in my power, Beth, I’ll do it. You have my word.”

  The old lady giggled and, in that moment, Gryle didn’t just get a glimpse of the woman she’d been in her youth, but saw her in her fullness, a beauty in truth. “Caref
ul there, hero,” she said, “you don’t even know what I’ll ask you, not yet.”

  “I don’t need to,” Gryle said. “I like…I want to help you, if I can.”

  Beth nodded slowly. “Well. It ain’t no small thing, and I won’t hold it against you none, if you say no. Anyhow, the thing is, I ain’t gettin’ any younger. Time was, I would hurt when I walked, and I’d have to sit down every once and a while, take a break. Now, I ‘spose I hurt just about all the time, and whatever is comin’ I don’t think it’ll be long.”

  “You don’t know that, Beth,” Gryle protested, “you can’t. Maybe…if we can find a way to get rid of the Virtue or…” He trailed off, not sure of what to say, and Beth patted him on the hand.

  “Even if we did, Gryle,” Beth said, “then what? I’ll magically go back to bein’ twenty again? No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know much about magic, but I know plenty about time, and time’s a stingy bastard. Refuses to give up anythin’ he’s taken. Anyhow, what I’m gettin’ at is, when it does happen, do you think you could…” She hesitated, and it was her turn to look embarrassed. “Do you think you could maybe find a place for the boy? He’s a good lad, and he wouldn’t be much trouble. Not any more than any other boy, anyhow, and I suspect a lot less than most.”

  “Beth, please…” Gryle said, his voice shuddering, “don’t talk like that. You’ve still got plenty of time left.”

  “Yeah,” Beth said, turning back to look at her grandson, “yeah, maybe.” But it was all too clear that she didn’t believe it. “Anyway,” she said, shrugging, “it was just a thought.”

  Gryle stared at her for a moment then cleared his throat, “Of course, Beth. If anything does happen…I’ll make sure he’s taken care of; I’ll take him in myself.”