51 – Too Many Graves
Ward started for the man swinging the axe Haley’s way, but she didn’t need rescuing. In a move that left him blinking, she surged forward and planted a foot in his chest, knocking him sprawling. Meanwhile, the other three mercenaries ran full-out toward them, one with two short swords held ready, one with a spear not unlike Ward’s, and another with a wicked-looking axe. Ward spared a glance to the marshal, wondering if he’d come through with another assist, but the grizzled lawman was lying on his back, eyes open, blood sputtering from his lips with each ragged breath.
Growling in anger and grimacing in pain, Ward lifted his spear like one does when preparing to launch a javelin. “Are you sure you should do that?” Grace cried, suddenly dancing in front of him for attention. Ward ignored her; he knew exactly what he was doing. He would have been just as concerned by the foolhardiness if not for his firm belief in the enchantment he’d just put on the spear. He figured that, if he survived, he could try to puzzle out where that faith was coming from, seeing how he’d never even used a weapon he’d enchanted. Still, he was sure, and with that sense of certainty, he took two running steps and launched the spear at the three men, still a good twenty or thirty yards distant, aiming at the guy in the front who also happened to be holding a spear.
His erstwhile polearm didn’t leap from his hand gracefully; it wobbled and flexed with the amount of force he’d put into the throw, but, somehow, it straightened out and streaked through the air with a faint buzzing hum. Ward could swear he saw some weird magical force waves rippling along its length, and then, with a satisfying crunch and a strangled scream from his victim, it blasted through the spearman’s chest and drove him back to sprawl flat on the grass, utterly still. Ward jerked his knife out of its scabbard and glanced at Haley. She was astraddle her latest victim’s chest, pummeling his face into a pulp.
The pain in Ward’s hand had faded to background noise as his adrenaline surged, and now he charged toward the last two men, both wielding far more formidable weapons but both looking like they were ready to break. Their party of seven had been demolished in a matter of seconds, and now Ward—big, imposing in his dark hat, with eyes that blazed with mana—charged them, holding a knife that rippled with magical power. It was too much for the guy with the two short swords. He turned to run, fumbling to sheath his swords, dropping one as he made tracks for the road and one of the panicked horses that had slowed to a walk.
Holding the axe before him, the last guy slowly backed away from Ward. He was large and bearded, wearing a leather vest and road-stained woolen clothes. Ward could see scorch marks on his forearms where Marshal Aldiss had burned him. “Easy there, stranger!” he said, shifting the axe up and down like he was trying to warn Ward off. “I just follow the captain’s orders, and he’s dead now. I got no quarrel with you.”
“You knew he was going to spring a trap. You planned to kill me and that marshal and take Haley. Think I’d rather not leave you nipping at my heels.” Ward flipped the knife, catching the long, wide blade between his fingers, then lifted it to throw. The guy tried to turn and run but slipped in the grass and tumbled. He got to his feet, scrambling around, dropping his axe, and Ward almost felt sorry for him enough to let him go. Then, he felt a twinge of pain in his blasted hand. With a spiteful grimace, he hurled the knife and watched it flip through the air to sink, dead-center, into the mercenary’s spine. He collapsed with a soft, wheezing sigh, and Ward frowned, upset with himself and feeling instantly regretful.
He lifted his gaze from the dying man and looked for the runner. He’d snagged the reins of an unburned horse and was whipping it into a frenzied gallop already a hundred yards up the road, back the way they’d come. “Should I go after him?” he asked the air, mostly talking to himself.
Grace, of course, replied, “These men had no loyalty to Haley’s cousin. I bet he’ll try to hire onto a caravan back at the crossing, hoping to disappear. I wouldn’t worry about him.”
Ward spent a couple of minutes retrieving his spear and knife, aware that Haley was tending to the marshal who, miraculously, was still clinging to life. When he walked up, leaning on his bloody spear, Haley was delicately dripping some kind of honey-thick, milky fluid into the hole where she’d extracted the crossbow bolt. “What’s that?”
“A potent healing elixir,” the marshal replied, sounding much healthier than he had a right to. “It will stop the bleeding but takes a mighty toll on a person’s organs. I might not live past tomorrow, but thanks to you two, I’ll live to record this crime.” He clutched the sheaf of papers in his fist, grunting with effort as he waved them at Ward. “The fool handed me his contract with Sonder Yates. I’ll hold the employer responsible for the crimes of the employee.”
“Nice damn timing on that little flame thrower of yours.” Ward nodded to the blunderbuss lying in the grass.
“Velvet? She practically fired herself. A lucky turn of events. You and your companion here certainly capitalized.” Haley sat back and screwed the cap onto the tiny silver flask.
“I think it’s healing. You have to be positive, Marshal.”
“Aye, I do, I do.” He shifted up on one elbow to better look around. When he focused on Ward, he must have noticed that he was carefully holding his wounded hand away from his body. “Spread a few drops on Ward’s hand, missy. Such a flesh wound won’t require much of a toll from the rest of his body.”
“Oh.” Ward looked down at his swollen, throbbing appendage. “Thanks.” He held his hand out, fingers splayed so Haley could reach it more easily. When she got close and saw the mutilated flesh above his thumb, spreading into the meat of his palm, she took a sharp breath and hissed a curse he’d never heard.
“That’s awful! What happened?”
“You didn’t notice my pistol exploding?” Ward laughed, shaking his head in chagrin. “Can’t blame the poor thing; those bullets were…a bad judgment call.”
“One of ‘em got away?” Aldiss asked, grunting, red-faced, trying to get into a sitting position.
“Yeah, he was in a hurry to be somewhere. Dropped one of his swords in the grass over there.”
Aldiss grunted, nodding while digging around his leather belt satchel. He pulled out a thin leather-bound book that looked like a journal and began thumbing through it. “I’m recording this event right now in my Marshal Log. Even if I die, the authorities will know what happened. You shouldn’t have to worry about Sonder Yates after this, young Haley.”
“Truly?”
“That’s right. Everything I write here gets transcribed into the master book on Primus. They’ll know if I pass and send another to take my place. Such is the never-ending circle of the law.”
Haley had just unstoppered the little flask but turned back to Aldiss, scowling. “You’re not going to die.”
“You can’t see what’s happening inside me, sweet girl.” He coughed as he finished speaking, and Ward saw flecks of blood before he wiped his lips. “Don’t worry, lass. I’m gonna do my best to hang on.” He began to scribble in his book, and Ward felt a cold drop on the back of his hand. Haley had poured a tiny amount of the silky-smooth liquid just above the worst of his mangled flesh. While he watched, she delicately smoothed it, bit by bit, into his wound. He’d thought it might sting, but it brought instant relief.
“God, that’s better,” he sighed, once again thankful for the healing magic in his new reality. Frowning, he looked down at the marshal, still scribbling in his book. “If you drank this, for your internal wounds, it would…drain you more?”
“Afraid so, Ward. If I drank it, I’d heal up for a few hours, but then I’d like as not keel over with a dead heart or something even uglier.”
“We have some healing tonics…”
“He drank one already.” Haley looked up at Ward, shaking her head rather grimly.
“Aye, thanks lad. Again, I would’ve died already if not for your friend here—if not for you both slaying those scoundrels. It’s in the gods’ hands now.”
“Turn it,” Haley said, gently taking his uninjured fingers and showing him what she wanted. She dripped a few more drops of the potent healing balm on his palm and around the base of his thumb, then very lightly spread them around, bringing him almost instant relief wherever she touched.
“Damn, that stuff’s good.” Ward felt his breath coming more easily, and it was only then that he realized how tense he’d been from the pain. Even so, a faint, dull headache had begun to pound at the base of his skull, and he noted his hand trembling slightly in Haley’s grip.
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“His skin’s getting hot.” Haley looked up at Ward, concern in her eyes.
“It’s just the elixir. He’ll have a bit of a fever, but that’s about all. It’ll pass in an hour or so, Ward.” The marshal looked up from his book and tsked. “A pity you didn’t get to use your magic. I’d have liked a bit more information about this Sonder Yates fellow and his scheme.”
“It works on objects, too. I could try it on that contract.”
“Look.” Haley nodded toward the road. Ward followed her gesture and saw the other travelers cautiously approaching through the field. There were four of them, two men and two women. One of the men and one of the women held spears, but the others had empty hands.
When they saw him looking their way, the taller woman with the spear brushed back her lengthy, black hair, blown into her face by the soft breeze, and called out, “Are you hurt?”
A short, muscular man shouted, “We saw them vagabonds ride out and attack ya!”
“We’re okay,” the marshal hollered, though it sent him into a coughing fit. The four kept coming, and Ward felt a little shiver of paranoia as he wondered if they might be coming to kick them while they were down. Haley was still smoothing that wonderful tincture into his sore hand, so he stood a little straighter and shifted the spear to look like he’d be able to use it if he had to.
“We mean no harm; only wish to see if we can help,” the tall woman said.
Ward nodded as they walked up and pointed at Aldiss. “This is Marshal Aldiss, and those bastards shot him in the chest with a crossbow. I’m pretty sure he’s still bleeding in his lung.”
“Oh my!” the other woman cried, stepping forward. She was small, with very short red hair and ears that almost looked elfin with faint points. Her eyes were big and pale brown, and Ward could see from the flush of her cheeks that she was still feeling the cider they’d all been drinking earlier. She practically fell to her knees beside Aldiss and pressed her delicate little hand to his forehead. “You poor man!”
“My Desra’s an herbalist and a healer,” the stocky man said, leaning on his spear. “Your friend’s in good hands.”
Desra looked up and, in a tone that didn’t allow room for argument, said, “Come, Rollo, help me get this fellow over to our wagon.”
Aldiss tried to sputter an objection, but he gave in and let the strangers get him up to his feet. Ward stood back, and so did Haley, still clutching his fingers. “Wait up,” he called after the trio. “He used some of this tincture. He said it takes a toll on a person’s body.” As he spoke, Haley held up the little flask.
“Oh!” Desra hurried back. “Can I see that? It’ll help me figure out how to help him.”
Haley handed it over. “Of course.”
As the healer returned to Rollo and the marshal, the tall woman said, “I’m Gail, and you two are welcome to share our supper while Desra tends to the marshal.”
“Uh, thanks.” Ward smiled and nodded to Haley. “This is Haley, and I’m Ward. We’ll see to these dead and the horses, then come over.”
Gail nodded, and she and the other man joined the others, walking back toward the road, the marshal leaning heavily on Rollo, the stocky spearman. “Ward!” Aldiss said, struggling to stop and turn. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, and Ward raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
“Pick up Velvet for me, and don’t forget what you said. Let’s try your magic on that contract when you get done there.”
Ward nodded. “All right.”
Haley sighed and stretched her neck. “They seemed nice.” She looked down at her hands, seemed startled that she was still holding onto Ward’s, and abruptly let go. Ward lifted his hand, turning this way and that, examining the damage. The healing stuff she’d gently applied was doing wonders—tender pink flesh was already filling in where his skin had been blasted off, and the burns were all but gone.
“Wow. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t lose any fingers.”
“Looked like the explosion mostly went outward. You are lucky,” Grace said, suddenly standing by his side, peering closely at his wounds.
“Well, let’s check these bodies and stack ‘em…shit, do you think we need to bury them?”
Haley groaned. “I’ll see if that farmer kid will lend us some shovels. They’ll probably want a say in where we plant these rotten fruit.”
“Right.” Ward rubbed his hand over his head, brushing the sweat away from his face, thinking about the hours of digging ahead of him. While Haley jogged over to the road, he took his time going through the mercenaries' belongings and pulling them into a row. He found a few hundred glories, a few assorted weapons, and a broken musket-type thing that he snapped in half in a fit of rage as he thought about his ruined Smith & Wesson. He threw a few knives, a crossbow, an axe, a spear, and a sword into a pile. That’s when he saw two of the mercenaries’ horses had returned and were mingling with Wind Queen, Nutmeg, and the Marshal’s pony. “At least we’ll have a couple of spare horses out of the deal.”
Haley returned with two shovels and instructions to “bury the criminals in the field where they fell.” So, Ward and Haley got to work, digging graves that would not have made a gravedigger proud but were deep enough to keep animals from getting to the bodies. They piled the extra dirt atop the six holes and, sweaty and dirty, stood there in the last rays of the setting sun, contemplating their toils. “I’m digging too many graves in this world.”
“You didn’t do this back home?” Haley asked, quirking her lips into a sly smile.
“Hah. Nope. Back home, in the city where I lived, if you kill someone, there are professionals who handle the mess while you either get a commendation or go to jail.”
She leaned on her shovel, wiping her sweaty bangs away from her eyes. “Did you ever go to jail?”
“Nope. Guess I managed to convince the right people that my killing was done for a good cause. Shit, most of my killing was done in a warzone.”
“I never killed anyone before I met you.” Haley’s voice was soft, and Ward could see her eyes were looking at something a million miles away.
“So, it’s my fault, huh?”
“No!” She punched him in the arm. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant…I guess I meant life isn’t usually like this here.”
Ward stretched and shouldered his shovel. “I guess that’ll depend, won’t it? Doesn’t seem like we’re on a path for pacifists.” He pointed to the horses. “Let’s get all our stuff and the horses and set up a camp next to their wagon. We should check on Aldiss.”
“Okay.” She led the way, and they gathered up the extra weapons, the five mounts, and dropped the shovels off with the kid still sitting at his apple stand. Ward bought the rest of his hard cider—eleven bottles—and they found a clear patch of grass near the other travelers’ wagons. While they brushed and watered the horses, the big, dark-haired woman, Gail, came over.
“Your friend’s doing better. Desra brewed him a healing vapor, and his lung seems to be healing.”
“That’s wonderful!” Haley said, somehow managing a genuine smile despite being dog-tired.
“That’s good news.” Ward stifled a yawn.
“Will you two join us for some roasted chicken? We’ve two fat birds over the fire.”
“I smelled it!” Haley gushed. “I was just telling Ward I was starving. He bought enough cider for everyone!”
“Oh? More cider’s always welcome,” Gail laughed, and Ward noted a pale scar under her right eye and the hard, weathered look of her skin, especially on her hands, which were also crisscrossed with tiny white scars. She looked like a fighter to him. Ward and Haley secured their mounts, and he carried his box of clinking cider bottles over to the fire, handing them out to each of the others where they sat.
As Ward and Haley joined them, he looked around the fire, meeting everyone’s gaze, and said, “Let’s see here, Gail, Desra, Rollo.” He paused, staring at the other man, a slight, narrow-faced fellow with shrewd, dark eyes. “Don’t think I caught your name.”
“That’s Tarn,” Gail said, “my brother.”
“Nice to meet you all.” Ward lifted his cider bottle, leaning to his left, clinking it against Gail’s. Everyone followed suit, and then they all drank, even Marshal Aldiss, who seemed to be feeling a lot better as he reclined against a saddle.
Gail grinned as she leaned close to Ward. “Tell me, Ward, where’d you learn to throw a spear like that? I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve been fighting with spears most of my life. I mean, I’ve seen men throw spears, even seen them throw one that far, but not a big fighting spear. That thing’s not meant for it.”
“He used a spell,” Haley said, waving her hand. “You all saw his eyes, right?”
Ward looked at her, unsure if he should smile or scowl, wondering if he ought to be annoyed that she was talking about his magic like that. Was she being careless, or was she trying to remind these folks that they shouldn’t mess with the two of them? He noticed Grace had made herself scarce as soon as they came back to the road, and he wondered if she was still worried about the marshal or if she thought one of these others might notice her. His distracted thoughts were cut short as Gail leaned even closer, peering at his eyes. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, Haley killed as many as I did—she’s a Gopah master.”
“No wonder they put all six down and sent the last one running for the hills!” Rollo crowed, slapping his knee and taking another big swig of cider. It had gotten dark, and the fire crackled pleasantly, flaring as some chicken fat fell into the coals. It smelled heavenly.
“Ward,” the marshal said, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. “I think I may live, but I’d like to get my report finished. Do you think you can try your magic on this contract?”
“Oh!” Haley said, licking cider off her lips. “Wait until you see this!”