Four Beheadings and a Funeral Page 15

  “Fair enough,” I said, hoping that would end the conversation.

  It didn’t. They continued to talk, and I decided my best course of action was to just stand there, mannequin-like, until they’d finally tired of playing dress-up.

  It took an hour. At which time, I was back to looking mostly like a soldier. I wore my chain mail hauberk over a tunic, but under a doublet. I also rocked the Northwoods crest and colors, which made sense. And it meant that I matched my lady, Lady Eliza Northwoods.

  While Eliza and I headed out to the evening event, chaperoned by Priscilla, Emeline and Bear set out for their meeting.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The carriage ride was nice enough. Eliza kept up a polite conversation with the man, a valet of Lady Coghlan. Coghlan hailed from the southern reaches of the Empire, but apparently, the Coghlan family had plans for making inroads into the Osterstadt lumber business, as couriers and wagoners. A lucrative business, especially for a family already deeply into the goods-delivery gambit. I listened as Eliza and the valet, Sonny Moore, spoke at length about horses versus oxen as the premier pulling power.

  We were taken to a nice tavern that, oddly to me at least, was situated rather high in a tower, overlooking the Emerald Sea. It was quite a walk to get there, and I took no small amount of pleasure noting that the valet was breathing heavy and sweating by the time we got to the top floor, whereas I was cool and calm as a daisy. Which, when I stopped to think about it, made little sense, since it’s not like flowers have any emotions.

  The place was impressive, with large windows overlooking the Emerald Sea. From this high up, I could have seen for miles, if it was light. But while we’d been playing dress-up, the sun had set. The starry sky above the forest was almost as unbelievable as the magical trees.

  A smiling man spoke quietly with the valet, and then led us past a few occupied tables until we got to a round table shaped like a big C, with a wide-open middle. I was willing to bet it was to allow servers to put plates in front of people without having to reach over. Neat, but odd. I did a quick headcount. Eight people were at the table and there were two open seats. We were the last to arrive. The valet pulled out a chair for Eliza, and I waited for her to sit before I sat down next to her. Four women and four men. They were all dressed to the nines, and coiffed to the tens (or something). Everything about them was high-class and up for show. I was definitely the only person there with armor on. I sat with Eliza on my right side, and the C-gap on my left. The man on the other side of the gap looked familiar, and was smiling broadly at me, but I couldn’t place him.

  Without any sort of comment, Sonny the valet and Priscilla walked away. They knew they weren’t going to be eating at the table with us.

  “Ah,” the man said, “I suppose I look a bit different out of armor.”

  “You,” I started, but then shook my head. “Nope. Sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “Is this him?” a woman across from me asked.

  The mystery man nodded. “The Hero of Osterstadt.”

  I squinted at the man and really tried to place him, and then it finally clicked.

  “Alexander,” I said. “Captain Alexander Czubakowski.”

  He laughed and hit the table.

  “Ah ha,” Czubakowski replied, “he remembers!”

  “It is very kind of you to invite me,” Eliza said.

  “Being that you were so kind to bring a hero with you to Osterstadt,” the dark-haired lady at the table said, “it seemed the least I could do.”

  Eliza looked over at me and smiled. “He has his uses.”

  As Eliza engaged Lady Coghlan, Czubakowski leaned over, and did a semi-whisper thing to me. “Ever considered the Legion?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “You should. We could use a man like you.”

  “I—”

  “It needn’t be you coming in as a base soldier. A man with a shield and a spear, that’s not your strong suit.”

  “I can’t say it is, but—”

  “There are plenty of opportunities for a man like you in the Legion. Hunting monsters as part of the QRF—”

  “QRF?”

  “Quick Reaction Force. A new concept. A group of elites who can be put into battle when something big hits.”

  “I’m, forgive me, but I really don’t have any knowledge about the Legion. Would you mind--“

  The woman sitting next to Czubakowski laughed. “You get my husband talking about the Legion, there goes the rest of our night!”

  “I admit,” Czubakowski said, leaning back in his chair, “it is a rather passionate topic for me, but—”

  “No,” the woman interrupted, “we are going to speak to this young man now, and you two can discuss the Legion later. He is clearly already employed, and it is remarkably rude to try and poach him from his current mistress while seated next to her.”

  “My wife is right,” Czubakowski said, looking past me at Eliza, “I do apologize.”

  “Quite all right,” she said. “He is free to do as he chooses.”

  “I—”

  “Well then,” Czubakowski said, laughing.

  Everyone laughed politely, and the evening was on. Conversation moved smoothly, and it was quickly evident these were all relative newcomers to Osterstadt. They had a common shorthand for everything they were talking about, which I took to mean they moved in the same circles. Quite a bit of the talk was devoted to putting gossip together, figuring out who was sleeping with whom. On the fringes of the talk were all sorts of economic questions — who was doing what where, what kind of gold was being invested, what information meant what. I tried to follow it all, but it was happening just a little too fast. Plus most of the time, there were three conversations happening at once.

  At some point, Czubakowski must’ve realized my attention had drifted, that I was just staring out the windows at the Emerald Sea.

  “Want to step outside for a moment with me?” he asked. “Take a look at the Sea from above?”

  “There’s a balcony?” I asked, already getting to my feet.

  “I thought you might like that,” he replied.

  We did the proper thing of excusing ourselves, and then he led me around to a small spiral staircase heading to what I thought was the roof. It turned out to be a roof-deck, and when we walked over to the railing, we could look down into the Sea itself.

  “Seems dangerous here,” I said.

  “Can’t imagine being here during a fight, myself, but apparently it gets quite crowded.”

  “Up here?”

  “Indeed. This is where the big-ticket folk like to place their bets on what will happen.”

  “In the battles?”

  He nodded, and took a drink from his wine glass. I suddenly wished I’d thought to bring my flagon of mead. This was the sort of place and conversation where a little drink would be perfect.

  “Do you know what’s going on here?” I asked.

  “In Osterstadt? Probably not. I haven’t been here that long. New transfer.”

  “I—” I caught myself before I admitted to having fought here before, “uh, I’ve heard that usually there’s more help from the locals. Or, I mean, anyone willing to fight.”

  “That was my understanding too. But it’s different now, I guess.”

  “Are you worried?”

  “That depends. How long are you staying?”

  “That’s more a question for Lady Northwoods,” I replied. “But certainly not as long as you seem to want me.”

  “I’d take you into my cohort in a heartbeat, but I’ll happily have you swing a sword with us for as long as you like.”

  “But aren’t you curious what’s going on? Why they stopped?”

  “I imagine it’s more to do with the increased attacks. People are scared. The Legion is paid to take this danger on, The citizens aren’t. I don’t feel they need to.”

  “Except, I mean, if I hadn’t been there today, what would you have done?”
/>
  “Good question. I’m glad I didn’t need to answer it. Probably set the WarMancers free. Deal with the problems coming out of the trees after that.”

  “You mentioned that: magic and the trees don’t get along.”

  “That was me putting it politely. Magic and the trees combine to make nightmares possible.”

  “Sounds pretty rough.”

  “Rough is still too nice.”

  “Have you done it? I mean, have you seen it firsthand?”

  “I have. When I first took command here, at least of the night shift, I thought the warnings were overblown. So I told a WarMancer to take down a giant slug-looking thing coming up the wall.”

  “What happened?”

  “WarMancer did his thing, started slinging spells. As soon as the spells went past the wall, into the sea, you know, they went a bit haywire. They killed the slug, but they also managed to summon a hell of a lot little things I can’t even identify. Things with teeth and wings and arms that didn’t make any sense. No internal organs. They were strange creatures. But according to the historians I spoke to, we got off light. Much worse has happened in the past. Since then, I haven’t had much cause for using magic. I guess except today.”

  “Are the fights getting worse?”

  “Yes and no. They happen more often, for sure. But today was the worst of the beasts we’ve seen. Looks to be one of the worst in the history books.”

  “There are books of monsters?”

  “Of course. Best to know what we’re up against if we can. See if there’s something to exploit. Weakness or, you know—”

  “Immunity.”

  “Bingo,” he said, winking as he took a drink.

  “I’d like to look at those books.”

  “Join the Legion,” he said with a wry smile. “You’ll get your own copy of each and every bestiary out there.”

  “That would be pretty useful. But the price seems pretty damn high.”

  “Might be.”

  We stood there, each leaning against the railing. Something out in the Emerald Sea bellowed, and something else shrieked. The circle of life, or something like that.

  “Forgive me if this question is, uh, impolite, but, uh—”

  “Just ask, hero. You earned the right to be a little rough around the edges.”

  “I don’t know about that, but you’re nobility, right?”

  “I am.”

  “Isn’t this — out here— something like a shit assignment?”

  He laughed.

  “I mean, that depends on your perspective. On the one hand, the Legion is pretty big on the whole merit thing, and not exactly fond of letting birth play too much a role in your lot. On the other hand, if you want to be high-level, this is currently the place to be. No other Legion is battling on the daily like we are. No one is seeing action like we are.”

  “What about the ones in Arenberg? The Rumib Pass area?”

  “Been paying attention to things, eh? Yes, there’s some fighting between Mahrduhm and the Legion there, but it’s mostly a stalemate. Occasional arrows going back and forth. Scouts killing scouts more’n anything else. There’s also the eleventh and twelfth — they have the joy of running the Sadler Woods, perpetual patrol of the Royal Road there. They see some action, but mostly, it’s protection detail. No going out and fighting. Most anything knows to avoid the road at this point, and I didn’t feel like marching back and forth through a forest for days on end.”

  “How many Legions are there?”

  “Active? Seventy, I think. Bit of flux at present. Emperor games and all.”

  “Does that, I mean,” I was really tempted to ask about Valamir or the others in the hunt for the throne. But it didn’t seem like a bodyguard for a mid-level noble would really be that in the know about politics. “I was approached to join a company today.”

  “Fucking sell-swords. Plague on the land. I’ll say that they pay well, but there’s little in the way of morals with them. They’ll take any job for money. In any land. Mind you, you might wind up fighting against the Empire some day.”

  “Obviously I said no. I’m not looking for a new job. Pretty happy with the way I got it right now. Just, I mean, I was trying to figure out why they’re even allowed.”

  “Sometimes you need a bunch of fighters for something. Monster attacking a village or something along those lines.”

  “Isn’t that what the Legion is for?”

  “You don’t want to get bogged down in the politics of which Legion goes where. Hell, I’m in the Legion, and I don’t even want to get into that mess.”

  “You mean sometimes they don’t come? That’s—”

  “If it’s bad enough, the Legion will be there. But Lords and Ladies also like to play power games. Not using the Legion is seen by some as being powerful. So they’ll hire some swords for a month to clear out a goblin encampment, or an orc uprising. Put down some trolls for any number of reasons. Keeps it off the official rolls. And no one will send a Legion out to deal with one ogre. But that might be more than a town guard can handle. In steps the sell-sword. And from what I understand, things are different outside the Empire. Mahrduhm doesn’t send their army out for anything. Queen has them going where she wants when she wants.”

  “Huh. Have you been outside the Empire?”

  “I set foot on the Great Erg on a dare once. Softest finest sand I ever saw. Six of us went down there. We were young pups in the Legion, all of us thinking we were immortal. Going to go the full thirty years. I stepped on the sand first, grabbed a handful, and stepped back. Acwald Tucker went next. Sand opened up in a mouth of teeth and eyes, inside the fucking mouth. Tucker had no chance. Just, phewp, gone. Lost that vision of immortality quick. And got a tongue lashing from the sergeant for being stupid.”

  “How many of the six of you are still in?”

  “Two. Me and Milton Tombray. Thomas Morse is still alive, but he took an early way out. Believe he returned home and decided farming was the life for him.”

  “So half of your original six died?”

  “It would seem that way, yes.”

  “In the line of duty?”

  “Yes. It is not an easy life. It certainly isn’t for everyone, but a man like you could do worse than serving the Empire.”

  “I like to think I’m already serving the Empire, in uh, keeping Lady Northwoods safe.”

  “Interesting family, the Northwoods. How did you wind up going to work for them?”

  “Just sort of fell into it.”

  “And you don’t mind their history?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know their history.”

  “Ah, well, it is a story that—”

  “What are you two still doing out here?” a voice called from behind us.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Czubakowski’s wife standing at the door.

  “Talk of the Legion, my dear,” Czubakowski said without turning around. “Didn’t want to bore the table.”

  “The table,” she said, “would like to have some time with the Hero of Osterstadt as well, if you’re done not recruiting him.”

  Czubakowski shook his head and let out a wry chuckle.

  “Let’s go back in, eh?” he asked, and started walking.

  I followed him, wondering if there was any real reason for me to even be there. I felt like I was being pulled along and ordered around, like I didn’t matter.

  Back at the table, no one seemed to care one way or the other if I was there. No one talked to me. I noticed most of the women looking at me, a bit like I was a piece of meat. And most of the men were drunk enough to leer semi-openly at Eliza. She pretended she didn’t see, so I followed suit. And I ate the food. It was delicious, but the portions were a little small for someone like me. My hundreds of pounds of muscle required a lot of calories or I got a bit light headed.

  I ate the last bite of the main course: tenderloins of the eborja I’d killed that afternoon. LarryReggie turned out to be tasty. A bit piquant, a bi
t nutty, but certainly unique.

  I looked out the window at the forest, and the wall. Just watching the trees move in the wind. A storm blowing in from the west, flurries of snow already coating the trees in the distance. And shapes climbing up the cliff.

  “Fuck,” I said, getting to my feet. “Attack.”

  I stepped up against the window, and cupped my hands around my eyes to try and get a good view of what was happening outside. Large humanoids were climbing up the cliff — not huge in number, but certainly huge in size.

  Czubakowski was next to me in a heartbeat.

  “Shit,” he said. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a little more heroism in you, boy?”

  “Does the pope shit in the woods?” I asked, already going for the stairs to the roof.

  “The who?” I heard someone ask.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I had my axe on me, but that was it. It was a long way down to the top of the wall, but it was going to be faster this way, and there was no way I’d have time to go the long way.

  It was just, you know, probably going to hurt.

  To land on the roof of the closest building, I had to jump off the balcony of the restaurant, drop about four stories and propel myself about twenty feet out. That was the biggest jump. After that, it was just a bit of parkour before getting to the top of the cliff, at which point I’d have to start fighting. Easy fun for a Saturday night. At least I think it was Saturday. If it even mattered any more.

  That first step was a doozie. I ran toward the railing, getting up to full speed, and then launched myself into the air.

  I pinwheeled my arms, trying to keep my balance. Then I slammed into the roof, which definitely held for a second before cracking and smashing under my weight. I landed in a heap in someone’s attic.

  It was dark, and smelled musty. The crash woke up the people down below. I could tell because they were all shouting up at me. I just pulled myself back through the hole, and ran on.

  Jump two went better than jump one, as did the rest. I bounded between buildings, finding magical purchase on what I assumed would be slick steep slate tile roofs.