CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
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Urman Gant
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26th of Decepter, 935 PC
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“Khet,” Igan said so dryly Urman almost handed him his cup of water. That’s how khet was at the higher levels though; spend what felt like hours looking for a move no ordinary person could find, move a tile two inches, then move on instantly, looking for the next one. No time spent basking in the glory of such a fine move. No reward until…
Kathar’s shoulders slouched forward. He reached down and turned his commander's tile over to show he couldn’t win. Urman never did that when he realized he’d lost. Too formal for him. He pouted and got frustrated. “Well played,” Kathar said. “What is that now, ten in a row?” Igan nodded, already setting the pieces back up.
Urman yawned, not just at the thought of watching another game either. He’d woken up exhausted right where Kathar had left him. Right next to the pile of vomit that had ended up covered in a thin layer of ice and snow overnight. His back was stiff and his knees were aching, like they always did when he drank whiskey. Still, he thought himself pretty lucky to have woken up at all with that westerner sleeping so close. Still had a bad feeling about that one. He’d become a decent judge of character over the years. Got to the point he could smell the shit seeping through the seams in the costumes assholes liked to wear. That didn’t mean he didn’t get mixed up with bad characters though. In fact, with his lifestyle, it kind of meant the opposite.
“Want to give it a go?” Kathar asked him when Urman finally opened his eyes back up. “Igan’s the best player I’ve ever played.”
“Can’t think of nothing I’d like to do less.” He looked at Igan. “Sorry.” The Lotus was about as offended as a brick wall.
“Can I play?” Kolton asked. Little fella had a voice that sounded like it had to work up the courage to climb out of his throat.
“Would that be alright?” Kathar asked Igan.
A nod of the silent giant’s head set up a pairing of khet players that was something out of a folktale – Sir Tarlimen versus the mountain troll.
As much as he might have liked watching the little knight slay a mountain troll, Urman had no time for khet. Not when Wynu was fiddling with something he couldn’t see again. And worse, hogging Tessille’s attention. The damn woman had shown up in Urman’s dreams. She’d been wearing a lot less than she was now though. That thick cloak of hers had ended up in the fire, along with her undergarments too. If she was even half the woman she was in his dreams though she was too much for him to handle. Women weren’t exactly his specialty. They made his words come out in the wrong order when he was sober and the alcohol did that for him when he was drunk. So, the way he saw it, there’d be no time Tessille could think anything of him but a fool.
Wynu stood up. Prick had a way of standing that made Urman’s heart beat faster; chin held high, chest puffed out. He was a scrawny man but looked tough as nails. A scrapper is how the boys at the dock would have described him. A compliment in those kinds of circles. Course, they would have beaten the shit out of him for being one too, just to prove they could.
Tessille dropped two lotus capsules in the scrapper’s hand. He bowed his head like all Lotus do to their superiors. Only he wasn’t a Lotus anymore… When Tessille headed toward the bigger gal, he couldn’t remember her name, Urman started to stand up.
Kathar put a hand on his knee. Didn’t even take his eyes off the khet board. “Stay put.”
Urman did as he was told. He didn’t remember a whole lot from the night before, but he’d never forget the look on Kathar’s face as he stood over him, scolding him like a child. Give it a day or two and he’d be back in his friend’s good graces. Then he could afford another fuck up. Not now though.
Tessille knelt beside her comrade and pulled the blanket down off her face. Urman wasn’t the only one that had thrown up last night. Unlike her though, he’d missed his face. “Seph.” She shook the woman. She was so small next to the big gal that she almost looked like a child trying to wake her sleeping mum. She grabbed the blanket and wiped at Seph’s disgusting face. “Seph, wake up.”
There was a groan so weak Tessille had to lean in closer. At first all Urman could think was that you couldn’t catch him getting that close to a face covered in vomit. Then he looked at Kathar. Guess you could. But just that one. And only if he really had to.
Wynu strolled toward the other Lotus. “She’s drying out.”
“I know!” Tessille yelled, glaring up at him. His face didn’t change a bit.
“Move. I’ll put her out of her misery,” he said.
“No!” Tessille fumbled around in her cloak pocket, pulling the bag of lotus capsules out. She shoved one into Seph’s mouth and went back for another.
“Don’t be foolish!” Wynu grabbed Tessille’s wrist and knocked her backward at the same time. The pouch of lotus spilled on the ground.
Urman came up off his rock like a father who’d just seen his child attacked. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”
Kathar was up now, hands on Urman’s chest. “Settle down. This has nothing to do with you.”
Kolton climbed off the log and got down behind it. Didn’t even bother peeking over it, just laid flat on the ground.
Wynu stopped, shoved Tessille’s hand away, and looked at Urman. “Forgive me. How dare I do your work for you.” He pulled a dagger from his belt and held it out for Urman to take.
“I’ll kill you, ya fuckin’ cunt.”
Kathar pushed him backward.
Wynu shook his head. “Watch your language. There are women and children present.” Not a whole lot to say back to that.
They all watched as Wynu knelt at Seph’s head and whispered something Urman couldn’t hear. He couldn’t hear anything right then. Never could when he was this pissed off. He’d give anything to have a level in between nothing and furious but he’d lost track of it years ago. The blade slid across Seph’s throat quickly. At least the fucker had enough respect in him to do it right. He wiped the blade on the blanket and stood up, slipping the dagger away smoothly.
Tessile put her head on the big gal’s chest and hugged her, mumbling into her chest, and lords be damned if it didn’t tug on Urman’s emotions hard enough to feel for once.
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Urman’s legs dangled over the edge of the cliff. Tessille’s too but a whole lot less. Short little things. He hadn’t taken her for a crier, but lords he’d be wrong. She had cried and cried and cried. Cried enough to make sure the Jazak would never run out of water. He envied her for that. All he did was sit there, knowing if he tried to say something nice it’d come out all mixed up and wrong. Probably make things worse. He didn’t dare touch her either. He hated when people tried to touch him when he was upset. Now that he thought about it, it made no sense he was here at all. She’d come to him though, sat down without a word and started crying. She didn’t need him to manage that though.
“I think I’m gonna go,” he said and started to climb to his feet.
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“No.”
Never thought one word could make him feel so good. Especially not that one. He put his ass back on the ground. Lifted a cheek though to grab the rock that was making its way somewhere it had no business going. He dropped it off the ledge and watched it fall for a long, long time until it got swallowed up by that watery monster waiting at the bottom. Just like Seph’s body had when Igan tossed it over before Urman sat down.
“It’s pretty awful.” Where’d those words come from?
Tessille scoffed. Laughed? Something in between. “Aye. It is.” Her fingers were laced on her lap, thumbs twiddling.
“Don’t get no better either. Not for a long time.” She looked at him, eyes shiny behind the tears that were sitting in them. “I mean…”
“It’s alright.”
Whew. He didn’t know what in the three hells he was going to say. It’s hard to change what you’ve said and make it believable when you’ve already told the truth.
She put her head back down. “She died a long time ago. The first night she complained about her stomach hurting. Just thought I could keep her alive long enough to get her help.”
“I know what ya mean.”
She looked up at him again, blonde hair wild and messy in the cold breeze. Still beautiful though. Maybe more than before. He never liked those fancied up gals with the dresses and makeup. “Didn’t think someone like you could get sad.”
“Aye. The stories make me sound like a monster. Truth is I’m always sad. Just comes out lookin’ more like anger most of the time. All the time these days.”
“Well, you don’t seem like a monster in person.”
He scratched the back of his neck and frowned. “I wouldn’t go lettin’ your guard down around me. I try not to hurt nobody that don’t need hurtin’ but sometimes that ain’t how it goes.”
“The Creator knows I deserve my fair share of punishment for the things I’ve done.”
“Ain’t a person alive that don’t feel that way. ‘Cept maybe that fucker, Wynu.”
She laughed quietly. This time he knew it was a laugh, the smile was too real for it to be anything else. “He’s a cunt.”
“Aye.”
“But I need him. Hell of a fighter. Keeps me safe.”
He wanted to tell her he’d keep her safe, wanted to ask her to come with him and Kathar to Locke, to leave Wynu and Igan behind. They were grown men, they could figure it out on their own. “I’d like to kill him.” He didn’t cringe too much. He’d made it further than he expected without a fuck up.
“I politely ask that you don’t,” she said.
He smiled at her cute grin and nodded, kept staring at her for way too long. She kept staring back too though so maybe he wasn’t doing so bad after all. “Been awhile since I’ve had a romp.” Her eyes widened for a second. Not long enough to make him regret what he’d said.
“Been a while for me too.” Women and their riddles. She was supposed to tell him to take her, right then and there. She was supposed to make it easier to figure out what she meant. Not leave it up in the air, dancing around with the breeze.
Suddenly, reaching for her hand seemed better than talking. The lotus magic thumped in her fingertips. Damn stuff had been thrown at him more times than he could count but this was the first time he’d ever felt it. Guess you could call him lucky for that.
“Sorry,” she said when she saw him thinking about the lotus. “I wish I could get rid of it.”
“Ah. What’s done is done. My brother used to say, sometimes the future is more important than the past.” He paused, trying not to think about Harlow for too long. “Ya just gotta keep tryin’ to make things right. Don’t be too hard a judge though. You’ll spend your whole life fixin’ somethin’ that can’t be fixed. Sides, if I had to reckon, I’d say you’re the sweetest Lotus I’ve ever met.” He stared at her, trying his best not to be whatever she saw in her nightmares. “Sad don’t look as good on you as it does me.” A smile curled on his lips to let her know he was making a joke.
Thought he’d be over that smile of hers by now, but it lit him up inside again. “How many Lotus have you-”
His lips cut her off. She was surprised at first. Understandable. He was too. Then her muscles relaxed. The thumping in her fingers was on his cheek now. He forgot about that pretty quick though when he thought about how soft her lips were. Like kissing a… Like kissing a… something soft. He didn’t know. He couldn’t think about anything but her body pressing on his. He barely noticed how close they were to falling off the cliff when she pulled him on top of her. That is until his leg fell over the side. That’s when he rolled them away from it to be safe. Not like him to be safe but he seldom had something so precious in his hands most of the time.
She sat up, straddling him like a horse. If only he could buck like one. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he could still buck at all, it’d been so long. He started worrying he was going to finish this folktale much sooner than either of them would have liked. That lasted all of a few seconds before he reached for the buttons on her cloak. She helped when his cold fingers couldn’t get the job done. Left him there waiting impatiently. Then the awkwardness bubbled up in his head. “Come with us.”
She stopped, tunic showing under her cloak but nothing else. Nothing good. Words. Fucking words, always messing things up.
Where was she going? Climbing off, that’s where.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up.
“We shouldn’t.”
“We should.”
She shook her head. “I’m dying. Can’t imagine how I’d feel if I had a baby in me when I died.” That killed any mood he was in too. “I told myself I wouldn’t do none of this until I got to Steppe and found the Marsallas. Not until they helped us.”
“The Marsallas?” Luckily, she didn’t notice how uncomfortable the name made him. Would have if she wasn’t looking at her lap.
“Aye. Ever heard of them?” she asked.
He stared at the water trying to get his head on straight. He wanted to tell her she was wasting her time, that he’d sold them to the people she hated most. But he wanted her to like him too. He wanted that more. Even if he might never see her again after this he figured it’d be nice to know someone out there liked him. “Can’t say I have.”
She was about to tell him about the people he’d stalked for over a month when they heard the screams.
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They were swift. All of them. They moved like a pack of wolves dressed in black chainmail and white cloaks. Arrows and purple blasts were coming and going all over.
Igan was the first to go down, took an arrow in the back. He stumbled forward and knocked his khet board on the ground, tiles falling in the snow. Big brute still managed to get off a few more shots of lotus before another arrow found his head.
“Thought they were headin’ north,” Urman said to Tessile.
“Thought they were!” She got to running straight into the thick of it and for some reason that pulled him out from behind his own tree too. He yanked his dagger out of his boot as he moved.
Kathar’s spear was holding off vicious blows from an ugly fucker’s sword but it couldn’t hold up much longer, so, that’s where Urman went first. He planted a shoulder in the Hound’s side and they went tumbling toward a log together. They hit it so hard he felt the air leave the other man’s lungs. Good thing too, gave him a second to get off a few solid punches. Nose. Nose. Nose. The man’s head bounced off the log and back into Urman’s first each time. The dagger went in and out of the man’s throat and off he went, didn’t need to wait around to see how that ended.
He caught the tail end of Kathar’s spear slamming into the side of a woman’s head. Bad luck sent her right toward Urman – the worst place she could have ever ended up. He shoved his blade through the bottom of her jaw and let her fall to the ground in one smooth motion. For a second he wondered if she was still alive but that question was answered when a lotus blast turned her face black and crunchy. He turned to see Wynu snarling at him. Fucker threw a blast, right at Urman. There was no time to duck but he didn’t have to anyway. The lightning hit the Hound beside him in the neck hard, sending him to the ground where he grunted and moaned for not much longer than a few breaths. Died with his hands wrapped around his own throat like he was trying to put himself out of his misery.
Another man came stumbling across Urman’s face, blackened by a lotus blast not dead. He fell to his knees after a few steps. To his credit, he tried to get back to his feet but Urman was on him instantly. He was a strong one. Managed to catch Urman’s punch with his bare hand. Threw his own too and sent all kinds of pain through Urman’s jaw. It was Urman who was on his back now. The Hound scrambled toward him but another blast knocked him over again. Son of a bitch was still breathing.
Urman got to his knees but something bit him on the shoulder. No, it wasn’t a bite. It was an arrow. He had a fucking arrow in his shoulder. Again. He roared in pain but there wasn’t much time for pain. He went back to going after the Hound. Took all he had but he got on top of the bruiser. He was growling when he finally got his hand on the Hound’s throat. Barely noticed the fists clubbing at his wounded shoulder as he pushed all his weight onto the man’s windpipe. The Hound’s eyes did that thing all dead eyes do but Urman didn’t let up – had to be sure.
There was a muffled noise in his ear, enough to make him think straight. It got louder quickly.
“Gant! Gant! He’s dead!” He turned to see Tessille standing beside him, trying to wrap her head around what she’d watched him do a moment before. “He’s dead, Gant.”
The forest was quieter than it had been a minute ago but not silent. There was crying. Weeping.
Urman fell to his ass and looked at Kathar holding Kolton in his arms on the outskirts of the campsite. The arrow in the boy’s back had him looking like he’d forgotten how to hug his daddy