A Sellsword's Will Read online

  “You can’t be serious,” Adina said. “We’re talking about the destruction of the world, of the death of all of the people not just in Perennia, but all of Telrear, if Kevlane gets what he wants.”

  Hale sighed. “You can’t scare me with death, Princess. Folks as are worried about breathin’ don’t generally go into the business of bein’ crime lords. Leastways, if they do, they do it with certain expectations. I always figured I’d die to a blade, and I can’t say that’s ever changed.”

  “But, sir,” Gryle said, surprising Aaron as he stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously, “surely, you must understand that a one in ten chance is better than no chance at all?”

  “No,” Grinner said before Hale could speak, “that’s where you’re wrong, fat man. One in ten odds aren’t ones I’d wager on. Besides, this is all from the lips of a boy that, for all we know, might just be making up stories. The way I see it, at least if we defend here or—better yet—at Avarest, we will be able to fight on our own terms, to die on our own terms, if need be.”

  “Very well,” Isabelle said, glancing around the room as all eyes turned to her, “there is only one equitable way to solve this. We will put it to a vote. Do we remain here, in Perennia, and defend against the wizard’s attacks as best as we may, or do we travel to Baresh and attack it head-on? All those in favor of marching to Baresh and attacking, please raise your hand.”

  Aaron’s raised his hand, followed by Adina, Gryle, Beth, Caleb, Darrell, and, after a moment of hesitation, Brandon Gant. “Gods be good,” Grinner spat, “surely they don’t all get a vote!”

  Isabelle looked at Adina sadly then nodded. “I think that, for such a matter as this, we must keep the votes only to those present on the council itself. That means that General Envelar, Captain Gant, and my royal sister all vote for attacking. Now, those who think it better to defend here, in Perennia, please raise your hands.”

  “My Queen,” Grinner said, his voice wheedling, “surely, going to Avarest might—”

  “No,” Isabelle said, shaking her head, “I will not flee my city, sir. Either we fight them here, or we march on Baresh. These options, and only these, are available to us, for everything else is, to my mind, folly of the greatest order. Now, those in favor of preparing our defenses?”

  Aaron watched, his stomach sinking, as Hale’s hand rose, followed quickly by General Yalleck’s. Grinner smiled at Aaron and raised his own hand. Everyone present looked around the room uncertainly. “Three to three,” Captain Gant began, “what do we—” He cut off as Isabelle’s hand slowly went up.

  The queen’s sorrowful gaze took in Adina and Aaron both. “Forgive me, please, but Virtues and ancient magicians are not something I understand. Walls, though, are familiar to me, and I believe this is our best chance.”

  “But Isabelle,” Adina said, “you have to trust us, you have to…”

  “It is not a matter of trust, dear, sweet sister,” Isabelle said with a sigh, “only a matter of what I think best not only for me but for my people. If the worst should come, then here, at least, they might spend their final hours with their loved ones, finding what peace they may.”

  Adina opened her mouth to reply but no words came and, finally, Isabelle nodded. “Very well,” she said, “then the decision is made. We will make our stand here. Captain?” She turned to Brandon.

  “Yes, Majesty?”

  “Assist General Envelar and see that the troops are well-trained. And you,” she said, turning to Caleb whose eyes went wide under her attention, “I would ask that you use your knowledge to help in the city’s defense.”

  Caleb gave an awkward bow. “I will, Majesty. But I really think—”

  “Then it is done,” Isabelle said. “May the gods watch over us all.”

  Not likely, Aaron thought, but he let it go. They were making the wrong decision. If only he could make them see, make them understand. But they were not plagued with the nightmares of people being hunted like animals in the street. Their dreams were not filled with the echoes of screams, of the wretched, tortured cries of men and women who had long since lost all dignity or hope and only wanted the pain to stop. There would be others, before it was through. Dozens—hundreds, if the tournament took place, and it would. The army that could stop it, that could save those in Baresh from the terrible fates that awaited them, would not come to help. Instead, they would camp behind walls that would serve no better against the monsters lurking in the darkness than quilts under which a child cowered, hoping somehow that the world’s monsters could not see him if he could not see them. But Aaron knew enough of the world and its monsters to know that walls and quilts alike were little protection against them, and the monsters always found you. Always.

  Isabelle went on speaking, saying something about when they’d meet next, giving assignments to Brandon and the others, but Aaron was barely listening. The screams that never completely faded upon waking were louder now, a thundering cacophony in his mind. Terrible, wretched screams. And they were only the beginning.

  He looked at Adina and saw her staring back at him, her desperate, foreboding expression a mirror to his own thoughts.

  “I’m sorry, General Envelar.” Aaron looked up and saw General Yalleck, the representative of Avarest and commander of its army, standing before him.

  He had never noticed the slightly stiff way the man stood, but now that Caleb had pointed it out, it seemed all too obvious. “Not yet,” Aaron said. “But you will be, before long. We all will.”

  The general studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then he turned and walked out of the audience chamber. Aaron watched as Grinner came forward, followed by his thickly-muscled bodyguard. The crime boss was smiling cruelly. “Well,” he said, “it seems that things do not always go your way, after all. Oh, how that must chafe.” Aaron didn’t speak, only stared at the man, and Grinner’s smile widened. “Ah, the Silent Blade is silent in truth now, it seems.” The crime boss winked, then turned and walked away.

  “Gods, but I hate that man,” Aaron said to Darrell.

  “Really?” The swordmaster said, staring at the door through which the crime boss had gone. “And here I thought he seemed so pleasant.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, “about as pleasant as a sword through the gut.”

  Darrell smiled. “Oh, surely it’s not as bad as all that.” Aaron looked at him questioningly and the swordmaster shrugged. “Well, some men survive a sword wound, and those who don’t …” He winked. “Well, their suffering’s done, isn’t it?”

  Aaron grunted in agreement.

  “Gods, but that didn’t go well,” Adina said, walking up to stand with the two men.

  Aaron sighed. “About as well as I expected.”

  “I’ll talk to Isabelle,” Adina said. “She’s scared for her people, that’s all. Without Grinner around to try to tear everything you say apart, I may be able to make her see reason.”

  Aaron nodded, but he didn’t hold out much hope. The queen had seemed pretty set on her decision, and she didn’t strike him as the type of person who changed her mind often. The vain rarely did. He was considering the situation they faced when Brandon Gant walked up to them, accompanied by Caleb.

  “Well,” the captain said, “what do we do now?”

  Aaron shook his head, frustrated. “I wish Leomin had been here. That man might have half of Perennia’s husbands wanting to beat the shit out of him, but he has a way of making people listen when he needs them to. Where is he, anyway?”

  Gryle cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed, and they all turned to him. Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Well, Gryle?”

  “Um…I cannot say for sure, of course,” the chamberlain said, “but…I saw him yesterday. He and Sergeant Wendell invited me for a drink tonight.”

  Adina laughed. “Well, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Gryle.”

  “Of course not,” Aaron agreed, “with all that’s going on, I’ve a mind to have a few with them.” Adina frowned at that, and it was Aaron’s time to clear his throat. “Well…maybe one, anyway. What tavern are they at, Gryle?”

  “Well…” the chamberlain said, “the thing is, they aren’t at a tavern. At least, not precisely.”

  Chapter

  Six

  “Is he really a Parnen?”

  “Where did he get those bells in his hair? They’re so handsome…”

  “And those teeth…gods, but I’ve never seen anything so white.”

  “I wouldn’t mind letting him take a nibble…”

  Wendell rose to his elbows in the bed and sighed, but neither of the two women noticed. It seemed to him that they had forgotten he was there at all. They stood a few feet away, both half-dressed. They’d been in the process of removing their clothes, clothes he’d paid to have removed, when they had begun talking about the Parnen. That had been fifteen minutes ago now, at least. He reminded himself to switch positions in a little while. The women showed no signs of slowing in their conversation about the Parnen, and if he wasn’t careful he was likely to develop bedsores before they were done. “The bastard cheats, that’s all,” he muttered. After all, it wasn’t as if every man had some floating ball of magic that would help him get laid whenever he felt the need.

  The two women didn’t hear him, going on speaking in excited tones about the dusky-skinned man, and suddenly there was a knock at the door. Wendell wasn’t normally the type who went in for an audience, but he found himself relieved at the interruption. If he had to hear much more about how handsome the Parnen was, he thought he’d probably save that dusty old bastard Kevlane the trouble and kill himself. He sat up, meaning to head to the door, but the women beat him to it.

  “Maybe it’s him,” one said, and they giggled excitedly as they practically sprin
ted to the door, swinging it open.

  “Oh,” the other said, obviously disappointed, “you’re not him.”

  Wendell peered past them to see General Envelar standing in the doorway. He ignored the two women as he stepped into the room, and for the first time of the evening Wendell didn’t regret the fact that his pants were still on. “General, sir,” he said, bringing his fist to his naked chest in salute. “What can I do for you?”

  Aaron glanced at the two women then turned back to Wendell, one side of his mouth turned up into a smirk. “I just wanted to speak to you about something. But if you’re busy, I can come back.”

  “Gods, no,” Wendell said. He threw his shirt over his head and stepped into his boots. This time, it was his turn to rush to the door. “I’m ready when you are, sir.”

  Aaron looked surprised at that and opened his mouth to speak, but one of the women spoke first. “Wilhelm, are you leaving so soon? But…well, can you talk to him for us?”

  “Yes,” the second woman said, her eyes pleading, “could you, please? It would mean so much to us, truly.”

  The sergeant gave Aaron a look then sighed. “It’s Wendell. I’ll talk to him.”

  “Oh, thank you, Wyclef,” one of them said, grabbing his hands and bouncing up and down excitedly. This one had, at least, managed to remove her top during the conversation with her friend, and Wendell took a moment to appreciate the view before turning and walking out.

  The general followed behind him, closing the door on the two girls. Even before it was shut, Wendell could hear their conversation starting up again. Aaron glanced at the door then back at Wendell. “What was all that about?”

  Wendell grunted, “That bastard Leomin, that’s what”

  “Well, at least he left you two. Not bad considering.”

  Wendell gave the general a sour face. “They wouldn’t fit in his bed,” he muttered.

  “Oh?” Aaron asked. “Anyway, where is the whoring bastard? I’d like to speak with him, too.”

  “I’ll show you, sir, but you probably could have just followed the screams and laughter.” Wendell led the general further down the hall to Leomin’s room, and winced at the sounds of pleasure and girlish giggling coming from the other side of the door.

  “Maybe we ought to come back, sir,” he said, turning back to look at Aaron, “We interrupt ‘em now, like as not we’ll have an angry mob of whores on our hands.”

  Aaron grunted, “I’ll take the risk.” He gave the door a firm knock, and it swung open of its own accord. He shot an annoyed look at Wendell before stepping inside. The sergeant hesitated for a moment, then took a slow breath and followed the general into the room.

  Inside, the bed was a mass of tangled pale and tanned limbs and somewhere, beneath that writhing mass, Wendell caught a glimpse of dusky skin. “You see what I was saying, General?” he muttered. “No room in the bed.”

  Aaron cleared his throat loudly, but the girlish giggling continued; none of those in the bed even turned to look. The sellsword frowned and banged his fist loudly on the nightstand. Abruptly, the laughter cut off as what must have been at least six women turned from their various positions in the bed—some of which Wendell found very unlikely. He had a moment of regret that he hadn’t visited the prostitute Stretching Sallia instead of allowing the Parnen to talk him into coming out with him.

  Suddenly, a familiar head poked out from underneath the bed’s sheets. The Parnen cleared his throat as he saw Aaron and Wendell standing there. “Ah, Mr. Envelar,” he said, “I hope…that is…everything is well with you?”

  “Who’s your friend, Leomin?” one of the women asked, running her hand through Leomin’s long, bell-bedecked hair as her eyes roamed over Aaron. “He’s handsome.”

  “Yes,” a woman with long, red hair said, her voice coy and seductive, “I think maybe we could find some more room, after all.”

  “Leomin,” Aaron said, ignoring the stares of the women, “we need to talk.”

  “Why, Mr. Envelar, I am, of course, at your service,” the Parnen said. “Only…just now, I find myself with prior…shall we say, obligations?”

  Aaron stared at the man, a slight frown on his face. “Five minutes. We’ll be downstairs.”

  Leomin swallowed hard then glanced back at the women. “Well, you heard him, my pretties. Yet do not fret, for we are lucky, in our way. Most men go through their lives never knowing how much time they have allotted to them, knowing only that one day or another the hourglass will run out. We, on the other hand, have the distinct pleasure of knowing exactly how much time we have to—”

  “Four minutes,” Aaron said, then he turned and walked out. Wendell grinned at the look of chagrin on the Parnen’s face before he followed the general into the hallway.

  ***

  Aaron and Wendell had been sitting at one of the tables for no more than a few minutes when Leomin walked up and sank into an empty chair as if exhausted. Aaron grinned. “Long day?”

  “Not long enough, I’m afraid, Mr. Envelar.”

  Aaron grunted. “You do know that there’s a war going on, don’t you?”

  Leomin scowled. “There was, Mr. Envelar, but no longer. I fear that the battle has been lost as I have been forced to abandon the fight altogether.”

  “Serves you right,” Wendell muttered.

  The Parnen turned to the sergeant, a hurt expression on his face. “Friend Wendell, surely you do not mean—”

  “Never mind that,” Aaron said, “we have more important things to discuss.” He told them about the meeting he’d had with Isabelle and the others. As he talked, their expressions slowly changed from hurt and annoyed to worried.

  When he’d finished, Leomin spoke. “But Mr. Envelar, do you truly believe that the only possibility of victory is to attack? Surely, there must be some other way—”

  “There’s not,” Aaron said, shaking his head, “I wish there was. But the fact is, each day we do nothing, Kevlane and his armies grow stronger. Our spies claim that the tournament is set to begin in two months which means that he’ll have hundreds—shit, maybe thousands—of some of Telrear’s best warriors to use in his experiments.”

  Leomin and Wendell both nodded, clearly troubled as they both remembered what they had faced in Baresh and, for a time, no one spoke. “But what can we do, General?” Wendell finally asked, “Without the troops from Avarest or Isabelle’s own, we won’t have enough to attack Baresh. Don’t get me wrong, the soldiers from Galia and Cardayum will certainly help but…”

  “No,” Aaron said, shaking his head, “you’re right. It would be suicide. Shit, it might very well be suicide anyway, but I think it’s the only chance we have, and Caleb agrees.”

  Wendell grunted. “That boy seems to know a thing or two, I’ll give him that. But, sir, you haven’t answered my question. None of the alliance leaders agreed with you so…what can we do about it?”

  “We can’t do anything,” Aaron said, turning to face Leomin, “but he can.”

  The Parnen glanced between the two men uncertainly. “Wait,” he said, “do you mean…what, exactly? That you wish for me to convince the others that attacking is the only option? Because I feel it necessary to point out, Mr. Envelar, that two out of the four are professional criminals and would kill me as soon as listen to me. As for General Yalleck…I get the distinct feeling that he isn’t a man who changes his mind often. And the queen…” He shook his head. “I do not think I can do it.”

  “Maybe you can’t,” Aaron said, “though, considering that I had to stop and count how many women were in your bed just now, I doubt that. But either way, Aliandra can.”

  Leomin frowned. “But…you have often warned me of using the bond. Are you sure it is wise to do so now?”

  Aaron laughed. “Leomin, come now. You’re a sneaky bastard, but I doubt that you talked six women into your bed at once all on your own. Especially considering the fact that I didn’t see you pay them.”