We were far enough north that the moon didn’t rise as the sun dropped. It was already below the horizon and stayed there, leaving the night drenched in utter darkness, a blackness lit only by the stars speckling the sky overhead–and the three dozen lanterns hanging from the buildings around the town, shedding enough light for people to make their way without stumbling or falling in the stream.
“Are those gonna be a problem?” the sheriff asked, pointing at the lamps.
“If we were trying to sneak in, probably,” I replied. “There’s no good way to slip into the town without being backlit and visible to the sentries on the valley walls–which I suppose is the point.” I adjusted the marshal’s hat stuck on my head and smoothed the wrinkles from the black coat wrapped around me. “Fortunately, we’re not trying to do that.”
“I still ain’t quite sure why we’re doing this,” the old man muttered a little irritably. “We ain’t interested in the town, just what’s going on outside it.”
“And the best way to get that information is to ask someone in the town,” I replied. “We might learn more in two minutes of asking questions than we would from an hour of wandering around. Plus, we’re serving as a distraction, remember?”
“I remember.” The old man sighed bitterly. “And I know you’re right. Back in my bounty hunting days, I’d have done the same thing. We’re just so close, Naasi. I know my Parri’s down there; I can just feel it. It’s making me a mite anxious.”
“I understand, Sheriff.” I laughed. “I used to deal with it all the time. When your target’s close, you get jumpy, and the urge to rush ahead and just finish the job can be overwhelming. When you do that, though, you make mistakes. More thieves get caught running away with their loot than stealing it for that reason.”
“That don’t make me feel much better,” he chuckled. “Considering we’re the thieves, trying to steal my girl back.”
“And we aren’t going to get caught running away.” I gave him a confident look. “Trust me, Sheriff. I’ve had to sneak into–and out of–more places than I care to remember, and I’m still alive to talk about it. I must know a little about what I’m doing.”
He chuckled. “You’re a strange one, boy,” he mused. “You don’t know stuff that every child learns in school, and you talk like you ain’t never been nowhere. At the same time, you know Davan Shadow-boxing, you can handle like you’re born to it, you shoot like an expert, you know all about tracking and sneaking and hunting, and I ain’t never seen anyone take to magic the way you do. It’s like you was built to be a handler and a killer, and that’s all.”
“I suppose I was, in a way,” I admitted. “Maybe when all this is done, I can tell you more about it.”
“The real thing, or another of your damn tall tales?”
“The real thing.” I flashed him a grin. “You aren’t going to believe it, though.”
“I ain’t believed any other story you tried to sell me, so why would I start now?” He laughed, then clapped me on the shoulder. “Still, whoever and whatever you are, you’re a damn fine handler, and as good a man as one could expect.”
I grimaced. “That I’m not, Sheriff,” I said quietly.
“Maybe you weren’t, but that don’t matter. What was is in the past; what matters is who you are now.” He squeezed my shoulder with his hand. “I ain’t always been a good man either, Naasi. I’ve sent innocent men to their deaths and killed more myself. I’ve been a bounty killer and a duelist, killing folks for money and fame. I’ve walked away from troubles that left men, women, and children dead because I couldn’t be bothered to help.”
He shrugged. “But all that was yesterday, and I can’t change yesterday. Best I can do is try to make today better, and that’s what you’re doing. There ain’t no way to be better than that.”
“I think Chomai might disagree,” I said wryly.
“Damn girl still sees the world as fire and water, with nothing in between. She don’t understand that the world’s not just fire or water, stone or wind; it’s all of it, mixed together. Most people are prey, and there’s a strength hidden inside prey that you shouldn’t ignore, but when the predators go hunting, you need another predator to stop them.” He gave me a solemn look. “That’s you, Naasi. You’re the hunter that goes after the predators, and our world needs men like you to keep everyone else safe in their little pastures.”
I nodded without replying, but I knew that he wasn’t quite right. That wasn’t me–not yet. That was who I was trying to be. One day, I hoped, I’d be the hunter of evils he made me out to be, but that night…
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, remembering all the marshals I’d interacted with. I thought about how they talked. I pictured how they walked, how they moved. I remembered the feeling of arrogance I got from most–no, not arrogance, certainty. They believed in their Empire, and they believed they were fighting for it. As I did, I relaxed my body, let it move more loosely. I lifted my chin but not my shoulders; I let my gaze harden and my jaw stiffen. I adjusted my hat to be even on my head, and shifted my coat so my pistol and deck were both accessible.
That night, I was the Faceless Man, and Kamath was my mark. He was dead, and he didn’t even know it yet. Of that, I was certain.
I strode boldly out into the valley, my eyes looking everywhere, my strides long and sure. I spotted the hidden sniper perch behind me and gave the marshal within a short nod to let them know they’d been seen but didn’t pause my stride in the slightest. I walked as though I belonged there because I did belong there. I was death, and death visited the valley that night. It walked among the people, cold and uncaring, slipping its fingers around their hearts without their knowledge.
I felt my pets gliding into town as all eyes turned to watch the sheriff and me. My wave horror followed behind me, with the shockfloater next to the sheriff–there was no way I could hide either of those, and they weren’t suited for the tasks I’d given my other pets. The sparksnake slid into the stream and flowed up it, undulating beneath the surface. The mistfreezer flowed like a patch of fog along one cliff face, while the cloudhunter soared silently above, no more than a patch of darkness against the stars. My leonine galestrider bounded along the far side of the valley’s wall, its glow far too visible to try to slip past the watchers, but the moonstalker’s dark hide hid it from view as it darted from house to house, moving too swiftly to be easily spotted.
I led the sheriff and my two pets along the edge of the stream, stopping before one of the long bunkhouses. I paused for only a moment before shoving open the door and stepping inside. As I’d guessed, the house was a sort of barracks. Rows of bunk beds lined the side walls, roughly but sturdily built with stained sheets and thin mattresses stacked atop them. A single lamp hung in the middle of the room, providing dim illumination, and the stink of old sweat filled the place. All that was more or less what I’d expected.
What I hadn’t expected was to barge into a women’s bunkhouse. Thirty women stood, sat, or lay around the room. They varied in their states of dress from fully clothed to totally nude, and I expected screams, shouts, and protests at my appearance. I waited for the nude women to cover themselves or duck out of sight. When instead, they looked at me with fatalistic, resigned gazes and made no move to hide their nudity, I felt a tinge of anger surge inside of me. These were women used to marshals barging in on them, and the mixture of fear and resignation I saw in their faces told me what they expected to happen. Fortunately, that expectation aided what I needed to do.
I scanned the faces of the women, looking for one who looked like she wasn’t quite done fighting yet. Too many of those gazes were broken and lost, and I wondered how long they’d been here for so many to be in such a state–and what was done to them to get them there. Finally, my eyes met a gaze that burned with a tiny spark of defiance, and I allowed a cruel smile to spread across my face.
“You!” I said sharply, using Chotu’s voice to disguise my accent. “Come with me!”
The woman I pointed to was taller than most of the women and somewhat more muscular. Her hair was brassy yellow and looked like she’d at least tried to arrange it. Her face was pretty, if somewhat dirty, and her light blue eyes burned with fire. She lifted her chin and seemed ready to defy me before an older woman beside her grabbed her arm. “No, Kalpna!” the woman hissed. “Remember Shara!”
Kalpna still seemed defiant, so I opened my coat and rested my hand on my whip. Her eyes widened, and her skin blanched. Her hands curled into fists, and her body shivered. This was a woman who’d tasted a whip’s lash before, I was certain. Her shoulders slumped, and she clumped forward toward the sheriff and me with a defeated air. When she neared, I grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed, not hard enough to hurt but firmly enough that it looked painful.
“Don’t ever make me wait,” I growled at her. “You understand?” She nodded silently, and I pushed her toward the door. I looked at the others, my gaze deliberately cold, and they all shrank back from me. I hated the role I was playing, but I gave them a vicious sneer. “If she ain’t enough, I’ll be back for another of you soon.”
I turned and walked out the door, again grabbing Kalpna by the back of her neck. “Where’s a place that’s private?” I asked her in that same low growl.
She glanced at me, her face confused. “What–what do you mean? Why do you…?” She fell silent as I squeezed hard enough for it to hurt, but she bit her lip and refused to cry out.
“Answer my damn question,” I snarled. “Unless you want to go back in there and do this in front of all them!”
She sucked in a breath and gave her head a tiny shake, all she could manage with my hand gripping her. “Th-the mill’s empty,” she said, pointing to the building with the waterwheel. “Ain’t nobody there until the morning.”
“Then let’s go to the mill.” I shoved her ahead of me, and she stumbled, recovering before she fell. “And don’t think of running. There’s worse things I could do to you, trust me.” She plodded forward without reply, and I followed her across the stream and into the darkness of the large building. No lamps burned in the mill, and without moonlight, darkness swathed the building so thickly I could barely see my own hand.
“Hold up a second,” the sheriff said in a low voice. A moment later, a card began glowing in his hand. “That’s better. No reason to do this in the dark.”
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Kalpna’s shoulders slumped, and she turned away from us as her hands moved to her shirt buttons.
“No, don’t do that,” I said, letting my voice slip back into a friendlier tone and emulating Ishar’s accent instead of Chotu’s. “That’s not what we’re here for.”
She turned and looked at me, her face confused, then shrugged and began unbuttoning her pants, instead.
“Dammit, girl, just keep your clothes on,” the sheriff sighed. “The boy meant we ain’t here to take advantage of you like that.”
“Y-you ain’t?” she asked, her voice trembling. She swallowed hard and took a step back, crossing her arms over her body. “What–what do you want from me, then? I ain’t done nothing…”
“We’re here from the Service,” I told her. Her face looked blank, and I added, “The Marshals Service in Na Jhauta. We’re here because of some troubling reports we’ve been getting.”
“Reports?” She looked between the two of us, and I saw a spark of hope kindle in her eyes. “What kind of reports?”
“Murders in cold blood. Torture. Slavery. Rape.” I let a little of my anger seep into my voice as I spoke. “These are things the marshals are supposed to stop, and it seems that marshals have been doing all of them. If that’s so…” I paused. “Let’s just say that the Service won’t be happy about it.”
She bit her lip. “So, what do you want me for?”
“We want to know what’s been going on here,” I said. “Here in the town, and outside of the town.”
“You want to know what’s going on?” she asked, her eyes flashing. She reached back up and yanked on her shirt, tearing it open to reveal her breasts. She spun and dropped the shirt to show us her back, and the sheriff whistled low in amazement. Whip scars crisscrossed her dusky skin, raised ridges of flesh that I was pretty sure would never heal, dozens of them.
“This is what’s going on,” she said hotly. “Every damn day, we get up and head to the burn field to dig ditches. Then, they dump something in them, and we fill them up and dig more. If you get tired or fall down, you get the whip. If you stop digging to help someone else, the whip. If you ask to take a damn piss, you get the whip!”
She yanked her shirt up and pulled it across her chest as she turned to face us. “But we women, we can get a break. See, if the marshals get ‘needs’, we can stop digging to go take care of them. They tell us it’s voluntary, but when Shara, this pretty young thing barely a woman, when she refused, they whipped her to death, right there on the spot!” The woman shuddered. “You ever seen someone whipped to death? It takes a long, long time, and they scream right up until the end.”
“You know why they’ve got you digging ditches?” I asked.
“What, you think they tell us?” She snorted. “The marshals say, dig a ditch from here to there, and make it this deep, and we do it because if we ask a question…” She shivered, and I nodded.
“We heard they were keeping a bunch of beasts here in cages, too. You know where that is?”
“Oh, hell yeah. Right by where we’re digging.” She shuddered again. “You can feel the beasties watching you while you dig, and some of those ditches go right up to their cages. Shudra, he lost an arm to a critter when he got too close, and the marshals just laughed about it and told us all to be more careful.”
“Is that all you’re doing?” I asked with a frown. “Just digging ditches?”
“Yep. Been at it for over a month now. Like I said, we dig a ditch, then the marshals pour something into the ditch, and we cover it up and dig a new one. It don’t make no sense.” She dashed away some glistening tears with the back of her hand. “So many of us are dead, and it don’t even make sense!”
“Where’d you all come from?” the sheriff asked in a subdued rumble.
“Farms. Towns. Caravans.” She sniffed. “Me, I lived in Northwatch, out west on the north edge of the Devada. It was me, my husband, and our two little ones on a homestead. We didn’t have much, and life was hard, but we was happy.”
Her face hardened. “And then, the marshals came. They came and killed Sheriff Phoolan, who was as good a woman as ever walked this planet, then they raided all the farms and ranches around the town. My husband Daas, he tried to fight them off, to give us a chance to run, but…”
She swallowed hard again. “One of the marshals set his pet on Daas. They killed him, quick as breathing, just tore his throat, and then my children…” She fell silent and dabbed at her eyes for a moment.
“We all got stories like that,” she said at last, her voice quiet and husky with tears. “Some folks were in caravans that got taken by the marshals. Others got taken the same way I did. All of us were taken, though. Ain’t none of us volunteered to come up here.”
“Did anyone try to help you?” I asked. “Any of the marshals?”
“A few, at first, but they got killed for it. Now, the only ones left is the ones that think whipping, killing, and raping us is entertainment.” She sniffed. “And what’s your damn ‘Service’ gonna do about it?”
“The best we can,” I said solemnly. “We’ll do what we can to stop this, Kalpna. You have my word.”
“What the hell good is that?” she asked bitterly. “I don’t want your word. I want a damn army to come in and kill every marshal in sight!”
“Well, we ain’t got an army, girl,” the sheriff sighed. “So, our word’s gonna have to do.”
“I’m gonna take you back now,” I told her. “I need you to keep everything we’ve talked about a secret, though.”
“A secret? Why? If I tell the others, they might get enough hope to fight back!”
“Hope’s a dangerous thing sometimes, girl,” the sheriff said solemnly. “And once you’ve lost it, it don’t come back easily.” He gave her a serious look. “Think, girl. You sure there ain’t anyone among you who might tell the marshals something like this, hoping for some favor? I’m sure you seen it already.”
She grimaced but nodded slowly. “Damn if you ain’t right,” she sighed. “I seen women trying to give themselves to the marshals, hoping to keep themselves out of digging and punishment. I seen men turning on one another for the same reason.” She shook her head. “And it never works. They don’t give a good damn what you do for them. Those men and women are back in the field the next day, digging right beside the rest of us, just without their dignity.”
“And they’re why you can’t tell anyone,” I agreed. “If the Head Marshal finds out we’re here…”
“I understand,” she said. “I ain’t gonna say nothing.” She paused. “But I’ll need you to rough me up some.”
“What?” I asked.
“If I go back like this, people will think nothing happened, and that’ll make them ask questions. You need to slap me around a bit, and maybe tear my clothes. Otherwise, it’ll look wrong.”
Two minutes later, I half-dragged Kalpna back to the bunkhouse and shoved her inside. Her shirt hung around her shoulders, she held up her torn pants with one hand, her face was red from where I’d slapped her, and her hair was a tangled mess. I sneered at her as I looked over the women.
“That was adequate,” I said coldly. “Next time, I expect better.” I turned and stalked out, slamming the door behind me and heading along the creek.
“Well, that wasn’t the most fun thing I could’ve done today,” the sheriff muttered from my side.
“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed.
“I can’t believe the marshals are treating people like this.” He took a deep breath. “I mean, I ain’t never been a fan of the marshals, to be sure, but they always upheld the Imperial Code of Justice. Sometimes they go a little overboard on it, but they always stood for the law.”
“You get enough people together, no matter the reason, and you’re going to find some bad people in it,” I said grimly. “Someone like Kamath who’s charismatic, powerful, and unscrupulous attracts those people like flies on shit, and that’s when they get dangerous.”
“You sound like you’ve had some experiences with that.”
“I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve read about it happening in other places. A leader stands up and tells people that they aren’t wrong for being the way they are; everyone else is wrong for telling them they shouldn’t be. He lets them do what they want without consequences, and they follow him blindly just for the chance to keep doing it.” I shook my head. “Honestly, from what I’ve seen, I’m surprised there aren’t more marshals here–and that they aren’t doing even worse.”
We walked in silence past the edge of town, thirty minutes to the edge of a wide, flat plain where the valley bowed out to the left. The field was bare earth; the ashes covering the rest of the valley were gone, leaving packed soil behind. Lines of open trenches covered the field, a crisscrossing mesh of ditches a foot wide and about that deep, some perfectly straight while others curved about. To the side of the field, along the valley wall, dark shapes moved restlessly, their forms indistinct in the darkness. I assumed those were the captured monsters, but I didn’t really pay attention to them. I was far more curious about the trenches. They were the reason Kamath was here, and figuring out what they were was my first priority.
I knelt by one of the trenches and glanced inside. The bottom glistened slightly, and I reached inside and touched the shining substance. It was slightly sticky, but when I pulled my hands away, nothing stuck to my fingers. “Sheriff,” I whispered. The old man didn’t reply, and I glanced up to see him craning his neck toward the cages. “Sheriff!”
He glanced toward me, his face irritable. “What?” he snapped.
“I need some light. I want to see what’s in these trenches.” He looked back toward the cages, his face openly longing, but I stood up and touched his shoulder. “Sheriff, why are you here? For Parri? Or to help these people and stop Kamath?”
“Shit.” He sighed, turning away from the valley wall and back toward me. “You’re right, boy. I can find Parri when all this is done, if nothing else.” He pulled out a card and knelt by the trench, lowering the rune down into it. The card began to glow softly, and I looked down at the shimmering, black substance lining the bottom of the trench. I touched it again, and while it yielded beneath my fingers and clung to my skin, it remained in the ditch when I pulled my hand up. I scratched at it with my fingernail with the same result.
“What the hell is this?” I wondered aloud.
“It kinda looks…” The old man hesitated. “It kinda looks like ink that’s drying on a card, don’t it?”
My eyes widened as his words struck me. I quickly hurled my senses out to my cloudhunter, gliding above us, and looked at the trenches stretched out below. “Sara, is it…?”
“Yes, John. It looks like it.”
“It’s a rune,” I whispered to the sheriff. “A single, giant rune! That’s why the people had to keep digging and filling it in; they’re making layers for the rune!”
“Give that man a prize!” a familiar voice called out. I sprang to my feet, slipping cards from my deck and snatching out my pistol, while beside me, the sheriff did the same. A moment later, I swore and clenched my eyes to slits as a brilliant light erupted above us, bathing the field like a floodlight and illuminating the distant cages–and the ten marshals and their pets lined up all along them, their weapons aimed at us.
A familiar figure walked out of the center of the group. The man was tall and broad, with a squarish face and a wide smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was concealed beneath his black, flat-brimmed hat, but the eight-pointed star on his chest gleamed brightly in the light. He stopped thirty feet from us and hooked his fingers into his belt, subtly slipping a card into his palm as he did so–but not quite subtly enough for me to miss it.
“Sheriff Ramka,” Kamath called out jovially. “And you’d be the one everyone calls Naasi–despite the fact that you’ve killed almost as many handlers as I have, and you’ve done it in a few months instead of decades.” He laughed. “They should call you ‘Kaatla’, instead.”
“That means ‘killer’, John,” Sara said quietly.
“Oddly appropriate.” I looked back at the man, then at the marshals and their gathered pets. “What now, then?”
“Now?” He walked toward me with a grin, stopping ten feet from us. “Now, you’re going to surrender, and you and I are going to have a little chat.”
“And if I’d prefer not to?”
He shrugged. “I could threaten you and your pets–I’ve got ten marshals here and another ten moving into position between us and the town–but I have a feeling that wouldn’t much matter to you. And honestly, after everything I’ve heard, I’d give you even odds on taking these ten, then going on to handle the rest. Of course, I could kill you myself, but then I lose your pets.”
He laughed pleasantly. “Which is why I won’t do that. Instead, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll have my people start killing everyone in town–starting with that woman you dragged into the mill and anyone she knows. And I’ll have them haul them down here so you can watch.” His smile turned cold and hard. “That’s the problem with being a hero, son. It gives you too many weaknesses.”
I grimaced; that was decent leverage. In my other life, I wouldn’t have even considered giving myself up for the people of the town, of course. I’d have laughed at anyone who thought that sort of threat would move me, in fact. But I’d seen a village destroyed by people trying to get to me, and I still had nightmares about the fate of Borava. I didn’t want another slaughter like that on my conscience.
“Fine,” I sighed, pulling out my gun and tossing it on the ground. “You win. I surrender.”
“Damn heroes are so predictable,” the marshal laughed frostily. He waved a hand, and a pair of marshals jogged over toward us. As they approached, Kamath stepped closer and stared into my eyes. “And that’s why they always fail.”
I simply met his gaze with a flat, neutral one that betrayed nothing. Even as the marshals stripped away my deck and whip, I kept my face expressionless.
I didn’t want him to know that this was all part of the plan–a plan that I now knew needed to change.