Gilded serpent, p.40
Gilded Serpent, page 40
“I’m not staying here any longer,” the woman sitting next to her said to her companion. “I’m sick of being hungry and cold and idle.”
“You just ate,” the man replied sourly. “Quit complaining.”
“Yes, because Her Majesty deigned to send the vestiges of her army some supplies. But how long until they run out? And how long will she leave us without this time? I want to go home.”
“With what coin, woman? It’s ten pieces of gold each for an escort across the Liratoras.”
Lydia blinked at the amount, which was an outrageous sum, but Killian met her gaze and gave a slight shake of his head. Listen.
“We could head back into Mudamora and loot,” she suggested. “Find some dead lordling’s manor and figure out where he buried his gold and his wife’s jewels.”
The man snorted loudly, then spit on the floor. “Ain’t nothing left to loot and you know it. And the land’s thick with blight. Here, we might go hungry a day or two, but that’s a shade better than drinking foul water and then rising a walking corpse a few hours later.”
So those from Derin weren’t spared from the blight’s effects. Why was she not surprised?
Behind her, a gust of cold air blew in as someone opened the door, then a booming voice said, “Clear my table, you bastards.”
Seeing Killian’s eyes widen slightly, Lydia turned and looked up.
And up.
Behind her stood a giant, his ruddy head shaved, his colorless eyes unreadable as he watched those sitting with her and Killian clamber to their feet, moving off to find other seats. She started to rise, but the giant smiled. “Not you, lass. You can stay.”
“I can move,” she replied quickly, but he placed a massive hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.
“Keep your hands to yourself.” Killian didn’t speak loudly, but a sudden silence fell across the common room.
Almost immediately, the barkeep was at the table, his expression panicked. “They didn’t know this was your table.” Then he pushed at Killian’s shoulder. “You’ll find another bench if you know what’s good for you, lad.”
Killian didn’t move, but his eyes went back to her shoulder where the giant’s hand remained fixed, despite how she squirmed. “Let her go and we will gladly do so.”
“No.” The giant closed his other hand over her other shoulder. “She’s the prettiest girl in the place, so I want her to sit with me.”
Killian rose to his feet, eyes full of anger.
“You’re a daft fool,” the barkeep hissed. “She’s not worth picking a fight with a giant.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Already?” A new voice filled the silence. “Gods, Baird, could you at least wait until we’ve eaten before you start picking fights?”
A figure slipped down on the bench next to Lydia, and she turned her head to see a broad-shouldered young man around Killian’s age. He rested his elbows on the table and gave her a grin, his teeth white against golden-brown skin, tousled brown hair falling into his hazel eyes. He was exceptionally good looking and clearly knew it. “I’m Agrippa. The ugly giant who needs to sit his ass down”—he cast a pointed glance upward—“is Baird. You are…?”
Agrippa. A Cel name if she’d ever heard one. And while his darker complexion suggested one of the Empire’s provinces had contributed to his blood, the golden hue to it screamed Celendor. Realizing he was staring at her, waiting, she said, “Gertrude.”
“That’s a pretty name,” the giant said, finally removing his hands from her shoulders and sitting next to her, his knees barely fitting under the table. The bench creaked alarmingly.
“Well met, Gertrude.” Agrippa took a sip from Lydia’s cup, then he looked at Killian. “The only folk who sit at Baird’s table are girls with pretty names and those with coin to gamble. Since you’re clearly not the former, you’d best have the latter.”
Killian’s eyes darkened, but then he shrugged. “What’s your game?”
“Cards. Thank you, love,” Agrippa said to the woman who’d brought ale as well as bowls of stew. She kissed his cheek, and he handed her a silver coin with a wink. “And we don’t play for copper.”
The grin Killian gave was all teeth. “Neither do I.”
“Perfect,” Agrippa answered, then he began spooning the stew into his mouth, while Baird tossed the utensil he’d been given aside and drank directly from the bowl.
Lydia glanced surreptitiously down, her stomach clenching as she caught sight of the familiar hilt. It bore no legion marks but it was most definitely a gladius. Impossible, her mind kept telling her, except she knew it wasn’t. However he’d ended up in Derin, this young man was from the Empire, and she doubted he’d arrived on the Dark Shores via the stem in the baths in Celendrial, which meant there was another path. Part of her wanted to ask him, but that would mean revealing she wasn’t from Derin, and she wasn’t certain yet if that was a good idea.
Pushing aside his bowl, Agrippa extracted a deck of cards, shuffling them expertly. As he did, two women and a man joined, elbows resting on the table, stacks of silver piled in front of them.
“Blow on my cards, Gertrude,” Baird said. “I need a bit of luck.”
“She can see your hand, you idiot,” Agrippa muttered. “You’re going to lose all the coin we’ve earned for this jaunt across the Liratoras and we haven’t even made the trip yet.”
So there was xenthier leading here, but potentially not back. That explained why so many languished in this town despite the war being over.
Baird sighed, but pushed Lydia to her feet. “Go sit with your boy, lovely. When he loses all your coin, you can come back.” He grinned, revealing a gap where his two front teeth had once been.
The group set to gambling in earnest, coins piling up in the middle of the table, the number of players whittling down as some folded. It wasn’t a game Lydia was familiar with, but if it was new to Killian, he mastered it within a hand of play, for soon he and Agrippa were the only remaining players.
“So you’re new to town,” Agrippa said. “You one of the fools still coming through the xenthier on the hope of making your fortune looting Mudamora or one of the fools who lingered in Mudamora long enough to realize there is no fortune to be had?”
“The latter.” Killian glanced at his cards, and Lydia refrained from looking at his hand, having already been informed she had too many tells to be a gambler. Given Teriana had told her the same every time her friend fleeced her of whatever trinkets they’d been playing for, Lydia had decided that maybe it was the truth. “What do you got?”
Agrippa flipped over what was an impressive hand, leaning back in his chair. “Beat that, Tom.”
Killian didn’t answer, and Lydia’s stomach sank at the thought of losing what would be a sizable portion of their coin to a stupid game. Then he turned over his cards and Agrippa’s smile fell away.
“I think we’re done for the night.” Killian reached to scoop up the coins, but viper fast, Agrippa caught hold of his wrist. “No one’s this lucky! He’s cheating. Check him for cards!”
In a heartbeat, Baird flipped over the table, silver scattering everywhere as he lunged at Killian. Lydia screamed as Killian shoved her out of the way. But then Agrippa had her by the arm, his hands going up her sleeve. “It’s the girl!” he shouted triumphantly, pulling three cards from her sleeve, all aces in different suits.
“Those are not mine!” she shouted. “You put them in there! You’re the cheat!”
But even as she said the words, she knew no one would believe them. That for whatever reason, the pair had set her and Killian up.
“You think you can cheat me?” Baird bellowed. Picking up a chair, he flung it against a wall, then tossed another behind the bar, glass smashing. “There’s going to be a reckoning for this, boy!”
“Not in here! Please, Baird!” the barkeep pleaded, ducking as a chair flew over his head. “Do what you want to him but do it outside.”
“Outside!” the giant roared. “I’m going to teach this cheating little shit a lesson.”
“You are most certainly welcome to try, you lying prick!” Killian shouted back, then he caught Lydia’s arm, drawing her with him as the common room emptied onto the street.
Outside, he let go of her, pulling his sword. But Baird only looked at him and scoffed. “Fight me like a man with your fists.”
Killian barked out a laugh, but then seemed to see the glee on the faces of the onlookers and realized the giant was serious. “You want me to engage in a fistfight with a giant.”
Baird grinned. “Unless you’re too much of a coward.”
Killian was far from a small man, but the giant had to be pushing eight feet tall and was just as thick. And yet Lydia could see he was considering it.
Pushing aside the men between them, Lydia caught hold of his arm. “This is madness,” she hissed. “You’re going to get yourself killed! He’s half again your size!”
“I have my own advantages,” he answered. But he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes intent on the giant striding up and down the street and inciting the crowd. “And if I don’t, they’ll run us out of town.”
“Better that than you dead!”
“Yes, but better still if I win.” He tried to pull away, but she dug in her nails until he looked down at her and said, “Trust me. And for the love of the gods, don’t interfere.”
Unbelting his sword, he pushed it into her hands before striding into the open space, muddy slush splashing around his boots.
Agrippa also moved to the center of the space, catching hold of both Baird’s arm and Killian’s. “You all know the rules, aye?” he shouted. “No weapons but fists and feet. They go until one of them begs mercy or until one gets knocked out. But if someone dies…” He paused, grinning wildly at the crowd. “We’ll light a pyre and let the gods fight for the bastard’s soul!”
The crowd roared their approval, and Baird pulled his arm from Agrippa’s grip. Then he tore his shirt off and threw the fabric in the mud before wrenching off his boots and tossing them into the crowd. “You, too, you little worm!” he shouted at Killian. “I don’t trust that you don’t have a blade or two hidden.”
Killian glowered, but yanked his hand free from Agrippa and circled back to Lydia. Jerking off his boots, he dropped them at her feet, then shrugged off his coat and pushed it into her hands, shirt following suit. The women, and a good number of the men, in the crowd shouted catcalls at him, but Killian didn’t react. Instead, he leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. “If this does go poorly, it’s all on you.” Reaching up, he tangled his hand in her hair. “Find her.”
Then he turned away.
Lydia’s heart throbbed in her chest as Agrippa again took hold of their hands and held them up. Then he shouted, “Begin!” and dived out of the way as the crowd roared.
Baird attacked first, his fist flying toward Killian’s face with crushing speed, but before Lydia could scream, Killian shifted sideways and the giant’s fist struck nothing but air. Caught up in his own momentum, Baird staggered, and Killian landed two fast blows to the giant’s gut before dancing backward.
The crowd roared in dismay, clearly on Baird’s side, but Killian didn’t seem to hear them as he paced backward, eyes on the giant. Baird lumbered forward, massive fist swinging, but again Killian evaded the blow, catching the giant’s ankles and sending him sprawling.
Instead of attacking, Killian moved out of range of Baird’s grasping hands, watching while the giant rose, ignoring the crowd’s boos. Again and again, Baird attacked, but Killian anticipated every blow, using his speed to move out of the way and land blows of his own.
Yet he never attacked.
He was wearing the giant down, that much was clear, for while Killian was barely breathing hard, Baird was panting, his massive torso dripping sweat. “Quit dancing around and fight like a man!” he bellowed, the crowd screaming their agreement, but Killian only laughed and circled.
It carried on that way, the crowd growing angrier as their favorite stumbled and bled and failed to land a single blow, and Lydia gritted her teeth, uncertain why Killian was baiting them rather than finishing the fight. What was he waiting for?
Then she got her answer.
Baird slowly rose from the mud where he’d landed after Killian’s last blow, and then in a blinding burst of speed that tore a gasp from her throat, he charged.
Instead of dodging, Killian stood his ground, allowing the giant to take him over backward and using his feet to send Baird flying over his head. But the giant caught hold of him as he flipped, and instead of rolling away, Killian ended up on top of him, Baird gripping one of his wrists like a vise.
Killian’s fists flew, breaking the giant’s nose and then cracking his cheek, but with lightning speed, Baird caught his other wrist. Rolling, they grappled, but as Killian freed a hand, using it to strike the giant in the kidneys, Baird pulled an arm back and slammed his massive fist into Killian’s ribs.
Pain washed across his face, and instinct causing Lydia to leap forward, but Agrippa caught her arms, jerking her back. “You getting in the mix will only cause him more trouble, girl.”
Both Killian and Baird were bleeding, their bodies covered in livid red marks and their faces swelling, but neither made any move to concede. The crowd was wild with delight and growing in numbers, people lured from all over town by the noise.
And Killian wasn’t winning. Even without her mark, she could see his movements slowing down, the pain of dozens of injuries written across his face, and panic filled her because if the giant landed the right blow, it would kill him.
Fear grew in her guts, stealing her control, and she struggled against Agrippa, using the tricks Killian himself had taught her. But Agrippa stymied her efforts easily enough that she grew certain he’d been trained at Lescendor itself, and he only chuckled, forcing her to her knees in the mud. “He won’t kill him, lass. He’s just teaching the boy a lesson.”
Fury mixed with her fear, and she inched her bare fingers over his hand, feeling her mark catch hold of his life. Take it, a dark voice whispered in her head. Silence his laughter, his mockery.
Her eyes leapt to Killian, who was on his back in the mud, hands up to block the blows the giant was raining down on him. And he turned his head to look at her, his mouth moving silently. Don’t.
Then Baird’s knuckles struck his forearm, and she heard the crack of breaking bone. Yet it was her that screamed, the dark half of her mark rising—
But before she could take Agrippa’s life, Killian jerked his knee up, catching Baird hard between the legs.
The giant howled, rolling off him and clutching his crotch, his face purpling and tears rolling down his cheeks as Killian staggered to his feet.
“You bastard,” Baird groaned. “You truly are a woman to be going after a man’s jewels.”
Killian spit blood into the mud and grinned, his teeth smeared crimson. “Like any good woman, I was merely checking to see if you had a pair. Given your size, my friend, I can’t say that I’m impressed.”
“Oh, shit,” Agrippa said as Baird’s face turned an even darker shade of purple, and then the giant charged, hands reaching for Killian’s throat.
How he did it, Lydia couldn’t have said, but in a blur of motion, Killian was on the giant’s back, one arm around his throat and his legs pinioning Baird’s to his sides. Grabbing his broken arm above the elbow, Killian squeezed, Baird’s mouth wide as he tried and failed to draw in air.
The giant launched himself backward, landing on Killian hard enough to make him cry out in pain from his fractured ribs, but he held on, ankles locked. Holding tight, even when Baird got one arm free, his meaty fingers leaving claw marks on Killian’s arms as he struggled.
And then, finally, Baird went still.
Killian held on for a few moments longer, then relaxed, releasing the giant’s throat and rolling him off.
Baird came to a few seconds later, shaking his big head and climbing to his hands and knees, glaring at Killian. Then he grinned. “Not bad, you skinny little bastard.”
“We have a victor!” Agrippa shouted, and tugging Lydia to her feet, he pushed her toward Killian. “And to the victor go the kisses!”
Her heart in her chest, Lydia stumbled through the mud, falling to her knees in front of Killian. Leaning against her, he said softly, “I’m going to see what I can learn from them.” Then he pushed her back with his unbroken arm. “Go back to the room, woman. You’ve caused me enough trouble tonight.”
Before she could answer, Baird reached down and caught Killian under the arms, lifting him to his feet. “We need some drinks!”
Leaving Lydia to gather up the discarded clothing, they moved back into the common room, the crowd cheering and hammering the men on their backs as they passed. Digging the key out of Killian’s coat pocket, she tossed his clothing, boots, and weapons on the table, and ignoring Agrippa’s laughter, she strode to the stairs, heading for their room.
Not that she had any intention of remaining there.
73
TERIANA
They spent another two days in the cave, eating mice—along with a rabbit that Marcus managed to catch in a snare—and then they started on their way.
At first walking was agony, every strained muscle in her body screaming that she sit still, but gradually, the pain lessened as she loosened up. It was a relief to be in different terrain, the quiet of the forest broken only by the soft tromp of the pine boughs strapped to their feet and the occasional chitter of a squirrel.
But even without the endless wind they’d been exposed to in the Teeth, there was no denying it was getting colder. At night, they made a shelter from the canvas Marcus had taken from the cave, one of them always remaining on watch to ensure that the fire burned high to ward off the chill.
Even with it, by morning she was cold and stiff, and the pain of moving was worse than the first day.
“How long until we reach somewhere with people?” she grumbled. The rabbit was long gone, and her stomach ached with hunger.
