The noble scars, p.13
The Noble Scars, page 13
“You usually travel alone, woman. Who’s this with you?” he demanded.
“It’s my cousin from across Jorjun. He doesn’t speak; fever took his tongue.”
The guard stepped away before returning with a long spear. He kept his distance from the bandaged sailor, poking around the cab amid his feet before he went to the back of the wagon.
“What do you have back here, woman?”
“What in Belth do you think I have? It’s the same as every other time I come here. Potatoes, hay, and empty water barrels.”
The guard returned to the front of the wagon. He slapped her in the face. Zerin reached for the hilt of his sword, but Chezra quickly grabbed him with her closest hand.
“Watch your tongue, hag, or we’ll take turns with you over a barrel.”
She wiped the blood from her lip, then stoically turned toward the soldier. “Isn’t that kind of behavior frowned upon since the Sailor of Jorjun threatened to kill you all if you touched another woman?”
The soldier raised his hand again. Chezra remained staunch in the face of another blow, but the soldier stopped mid-strike, looking around to see if he was being watched.
“Be on your way.”
The three moved through the city gates without further incident.
Once inside, Zerin spoke up. “Chezra, you handled yourself well. How’s your lip?”
“It stings.”
“Don’t worry. I remember his face.”
Galvin watched through the cracks in the boards of the wagon. He could see the beggars in the streets, many of them young children, along with large numbers of guards patrolling the grounds.
“I killed a lot of people to save my town from this misery. I did it for nothing,” he said.
“It’s not your fault,” Chezra reassured him.
Off to their right, leaning against the inside of the city wall, Zerin saw several suspicious men dressed in hooded robes, not unlike his. Although he couldn’t see their faces, he sensed something familiar about them.
The guards marched in garrisons twenty strong, just as Chezra mentioned. Often the townspeople had to move to keep from being trampled.
She drove the wagon through town until they came to a crossroads that opened to a small plaza bordered with shops. It should have been crowded with street merchants and patrons. But no one walked there that day. High above the square, dangling from a pole in the middle of the intersection, hung a body strung up by the neck. The hands and feet had been removed. There were gaping wounds on the torso. One of its eyes had been burned. Zerin was so busy looking at the wounds that he didn’t notice the face until they were almost past.
“No!” he screamed, forcing Chezra to contain him as she drove through the square.
“Do you know him?”
“Who was that?” Galvin asked from beneath his cover.
Zerin struggled through gritted teeth. “That was Mathen.”
“He must have been seen with you.”
Zerin was quiet for several blocks. “You warned me about this.”
Chezra put her hand on Zerin’s knee, trying to console him.
“It’s not safe for anyone to be seen with me. We’ll separate from you as soon as we can, Chezra.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Yes, but I am.”
Nothing else was said as they drove the wagon through the streets of Brakton to the living quarters of the new mother and babe that had been delivered by the veiled woman. It was a stone and mud building with two stories. In the front was a butcher’s shop where skinned pig loins hung in the window. Chezra drove the wagon to the side where she and Zerin hopped out.
“Where are we?” the giant asked, his voice muffled from the confines of the wagon.
“Be still, Galvin, we won’t be long,”
“I’m getting bloody cramped in here.”
Chezra led Zerin through the back door of the building and up a flight of stairs to a small, one-room apartment no bigger than an attic, where there were two women and three young children.
“Hello, Myra. Hello, Bethra,” Chezra said.
Instead of returning the greetings, the two mothers scooped up their children, looking past her at the man she’d brought.
“Please, ladies, don’t be afraid,” Chezra said.
Zerin removed his hood and bandages.
“This is my friend.”
“I know you,” Myra spoke with a smile. “You’re… you’re Zerin.”
“You’re the one who saved our midwife,” Bethra said.
Zerin smiled and bowed slightly.
“We haven’t much to offer you, but whatever we have is yours.”
Zerin looked around the tiny room, flattered by the gesture, wondering what these people could possibly spare.
“Thank you. You’re both very generous, but that won’t be necessary. Might I ask, do you live here alone? Where are your husbands?”
The two ladies looked away.
“Zerin,” Chezra said, “the fathers of these children were uninvited lovers, probably soldiers.”
“We’re not as fortunate as our friend to have someone like you to protect us. We’re so grateful for what you did for her. She’s very special,” Myra said. “She helped me with my children when they got the fever. I would have lost them, if not for her.”
“Then she’s far more than just a midwife?” Zerin asked.
“She’s a gifted healer and a dear friend.”
“Perhaps you could grant me the favor of her name. I was somewhat taken by her myself.”
The two ladies frowned as they looked at each other.
Myra said, “I’m truly sorry, but we can’t tell you.”
“Don’t you know who she is?” Zerin asked anxiously.
“Her life would be in great danger if she was discovered. She has sworn us to secrecy. Please do not ask this of us,” Bethra said.
Zerin looked at them, disappointed, yet impressed with their loyalty. “My apologies for prying, ladies. I do understand the need to hide oneself in these times. If you see her again, tell her that Zerin of Jorjun wishes an audience with her.”
“Is that all you wish to say?” Myra asked.
He sighed and looked at the floor, then back at them again, fumbling over his words. “Tell her that… tell her she constantly occupies my thoughts.”
Bethra nodded. “If we see her again, we’ll be sure to tell her.”
“Thank you for your time, ladies,” Chezra said. “We should be on our way.”
Zerin nodded his thanks and turned to leave.
“Uh, Zerin,” Myra said, “if it’s a wife you seek, then you needn’t look any farther. I could make a man like you very happy. I’m sure Bethra would help as well.”
Bethra smiled.
Zerin turned several shades of scarlet. “Thank you very much, ladies. A most tempting offer, but I have to decline.”
He nodded with a grateful smile, raised his hood, and left with Chezra. He was quiet on the walk back to the wagon, his head low.
“Not a real ladies’ man, are ya?” Chezra said. “But the veiled woman left quite a mark with you.”
“Aye,” he said quietly.
Chapter 16
Zerin and Chezra returned to the wagon in the side street where Galvin had been waiting impatiently.
“Where to now?” she asked.
“The other end of town,” the giant answered. “There’s a pub called the Shawanaga Inn. I should have comrades there. Just head north.”
“I know where it is,” Chezra said. “Nice friends you have.”
Zerin kept his eyes keen as they rode through town, constantly scanning in every direction.
“Chezra, can you see that road up on the right?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s take it.”
Chezra veered off the main road toward the side street, but as they approached, four soldiers on horseback emerged from behind a building, forcing the wagon to continue on its current route.
“What’s going on out there?” Galvin whispered. “I need to get up soon. Are we getting close?”
“Don’t worry, Galvin, you’ll be getting up sooner than you’d like. Chezra, do you mind if I hold the reins for a while?”
“I suppose not. Is there something wrong with my driving?”
“Not at all,” he answered politely, taking the leather reins from her.
The main road swerved to the right, with a side street to the left just before the curve, again blocked by four soldiers on horseback. Instead of following the main road, Zerin drove the wagon at the same sluggish pace toward the side street.
“Zerin, I didn’t know you were familiar with Brakton. Do you know of a shortcut that I don’t?”
“Chezra.”
“Yes, Zerin?”
“Hold on to something… tightly.”
Chezra barely had time to comply before Zerin stood up in the wagon, tore off his hood and bandages, snapped the reins, and yelled as loud as he could, “YAAAHH!”
He charged the horses straight at the four mounted soldiers.
“What are you doing?” Chezra asked.
“There’s an ambush at the end of this road that I have no intention of walking into.”
The townspeople stopped to watch the crazed driver hurtling toward a collision with the soldiers, scattering passersby before him. Zerin turned around briefly to see a pack of soldiers on horseback in pursuit along with a wagonful of bowmen scrambling to arm themselves. The only soldiers who weren’t moving were the four who stood in his path.
“Hold your ground!” their captain ordered.
Zerin gathered as much speed as he could, shouting as loud as he might while snapping the reins, giving the horses no option but to obey him. Then, as he had hoped, one of the soldier’s horses bucked his rider, creating just enough room for the wagon to dart through.
One of the soldiers managed to control his mount just in time to wheel around and face the oncoming wagon from the side. With sword in hand, he readied to strike. Zerin scrambled to draw his blade, but the soldier was charging right into him. As the man readied to strike, Zerin saw his gaze shift from one of triumph to terror. The soldier was looking past Zerin at the daunting sight of the giant, who had risen from underneath his cover. Galvin swung with full might, striking the soldier mid-torso. The soldier crashed upon the cobblestones, twice.
The wagon carried on through the narrow side street with a cluster of soldiers in pursuit; they tore through a canopy and smashed through an open stable door. The street came to an end, forcing them to turn.
“Which way, Chezra?”
“Go left,” Galvin said.
After they rounded the corner, Zerin turned to Chezra. Her eyes were closed.
“Are you all right?” the sailor asked.
Again, she didn’t answer.
Galvin grabbed her by the shoulder. She slumped over sideways with half an arrow sticking out of her ear, blood flowing down her neck. Galvin dragged her body to the back of the wagon as they drove through the alleyways. Their present moment didn’t afford them the time to grieve over the loss of their friend nor the guilt that Zerin felt for bringing tragedy to yet another person.
They rounded a corner at full speed with two wheels off the ground, then straightened out before coming face-to-face with a garrison of soldiers. Zerin brought the wagon to an abrupt stop that almost sent Galvin flying off the cart. They leapt out of the wagon, leaving Chezra’s body inside, and headed through some buildings that backed onto the city wall.
“Zerin, follow me. I think I know of a way out of here.”
They raced through a pigpen, two butcher shops, and a tannery before they reached an alley between two buildings that led to a dead end. Before they could head back, the alley filled with soldiers, blocking their only escape. They brandished their weapons and turned to face their attackers.
The captain of the guard forced his way through the crowd of soldiers. He paced before the two combatants, his sword resting casually at his side.
“I think I’ll get promoted for this. Perhaps a post in LionBerg. I was cautioned not to take the two of you alive because it would be too dangerous. It seems that advice was unwarranted.”
“Who warned you we were coming?” Zerin demanded.
A hollow look suddenly came to the captain’s face. “It was the wizard. He came to me at night as a vapor.”
Zerin and Galvin looked at each other, realizing that vapor was the same chilling wind that had passed through their campsite the night before.
“Drop your weapons, lest you die here,” the captain ordered.
“Strange you would say that. I was going to make you the same offer,” Zerin replied, as he lunged forward with the speed of an alley-cat and stabbed the captain in the throat.
Galvin and Zerin positioned themselves to avoid each other’s swings but close enough the enemy couldn’t violate the space between them.
It might be customary for the weaker opponent to assume the strategies of counterattack to offset the imbalance, but these were not customary men. The giant charged, taking two with every swipe while Zerin used his sword and dagger to fight several at a time, kicking hard when the opportunity presented itself.
The battle raged on, the alley walls echoing with clashes of steel and splatters of blood. They held their own, managing to avoid serious injury, denying their own fatigue, until the wagonful of bowmen pulled into the alley.
“Stand down, men,” shouted their captain.
The soldiers retreated, leaving a pile of their comrades in their wake.
The bowmen stood in the wagon, their crossbows loaded and aimed. Zerin and Galvin looked for an exit.
“Ready!” yelled a soldier. “Aim!”
The giant quickly stepped in front of Zerin, but when the sound of snapping bowstrings was heard, there was no impact to accompany them, other than to the soldiers themselves.
One by one, the bowmen fell off the wagon, pierced by arrows of unknown origin. Zerin and Galvin seized the opportunity to launch another assault on the soldiers’ front. Somewhere up ahead, they had allies whose proficiency was as effectual as their timing.
Only when Galvin and Zerin forced the battle up the alleyway and around the corner could they see that the group who came to their aid was the same group of cloaked men he’d seen inside the city walls when they’d first entered Brakton. They were led by a large man in a black hood and cloak, a vicious fighter who slew every soldier he faced.
Zerin and Galvin worked their way closer to their anonymous partners until the hood on the large man slid off, revealing their rescuer as the pirate Escura. He was the last person Zerin expected to see as their liberator but could think of no one he’d rather it be. He had half a dozen men with him who put down three times their numbers with their crossbow-led assault.
By the time Galvin and Zerin fought their way through to Escura, the remaining soldiers had fled in search of reinforcements. Zerin wanted to thank Escura for his timely intervention, but the pirate was preoccupied, staring at two of his men who had been slaughtered in the rescue.
“Galvin, get us out of here,” Zerin said as he noticed one of the soldiers stirring. His nose had been flattened by the giant’s fist. His face was covered with blood.
Zerin grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet. “You’re coming with us,” he said with a dagger to his throat.
Zerin, Escura, and his men followed the giant through several buildings until he found a flight of stairs leading into a basement. They ran through a small tunnel with several turns until they reached a metal door latched with a crossbar and lock. Several of the men worked on the latch, tugging and prying with their swords.
“Move!” the giant bellowed. With a single boot, he flattened the door.
They followed Galvin until they came to an underground stream that flowed out of the city. They walked knee-high through the water until they came to a metal screen that sealed the tunnel. Galvin grabbed the metal mesh and tore it from its place. They ran as hard they could toward the refuge of thick woods, ignoring the cuts and wounds gathered from their battle.
Running across the field, on his way to the forest, Zerin tried to dismiss the image of Chezra with an arrow implanted in her ear. Mathen and she made two more souls who had lost their lives because of him.
Chapter 17
Zerin dragged the soldier through the woods as blood continued to flow from his nose, staining his mail.
They ran until they reached a tiny creek running through a small valley, deep within the forest. While the rest of the men caught their breath at the water’s edge, Zerin tied his prisoner to a tree with lengths of vine. When he was done, he marched straight toward Escura.
“Until today, I’ve had little reason to call you friend,” he said, holding his hand out to clasp the pirate’s.
Escura stared at him before taking Zerin’s arm in his hand, saying nothing in return. Escura had lost his cloak during the battle. His pale, sinewy torso was draped with a black leather vest. His muscles were more pronounced than Zerin remembered.
Zerin walked away, wary of the pirate’s indifference. He approached the other men to thank them as well, stopping mid-stride when he recognized Bronchert and Hamij. Neither were anxious for Zerin’s gratitude, but he gave it anyway.
“Thank you for your help.” He reached his hand out.
“Just following our captain’s orders,” Hamij answered, as he and Bronchert turned their backs and walked away.
“I, too, wish to thank you for your help,” the giant said.
“Escura, meet Galvin, the Giant of Brakton,” Zerin said.
The two men clasped arms. Normally, Galvin stood three heads higher than most men, but he towered only two over the pirate.
“I heard rumors of a giant man from these parts, but I didn’t believe them.”
“And I’ve heard much about the ruthless pirate of Jorjun.”
Escura released his grip on the giant’s arm. “I make no excuses for my actions,” he replied, walking off to wash in the creek.
