‘Are you in charge now that Anfen got a face cut?’ said Kiown, who did not sheathe his sword.
‘Put it away,’ snapped Sharfy. ‘Anfen! Safe out here. They scared it off and it scared them off. Guess we won. And we got a visitor who can’t be seen.’
Case took off the necklace. Eric spotted him, laughed and ran over. They embraced as the bandits murmured amongst themselves. Siel jogged up the path and stared at Case, her knife still in hand.
Anfen emerged from the cave and gazed at Case, his Oriental-looking face a neutral mask, the sword Sharfy had thrown him held at the ready. He seemed about to speak, but let the pair have their moment, instead turning to the wreckage below. To the others: ‘Get down there, grab that supply cart. Don’t dawdle. They’ll send more out here now. We won’t get another chance through the pass.’ To Sharfy, ‘Stay with the Pilgrims.’ Anfen paused as he saw the necklace hanging in Case’s hand. ‘By Nightmare! And what might that be?’
Case quickly stuffed it in his pocket and backed away, cursing himself for a fooclass="underline" had Stranger not warned him to keep it hidden?
‘You’re safe from me,’ said Anfen impatiently. ‘Time’s pressing; we’ll deal with it later. But keep that thing hidden.’
‘You folks see a young woman in a green dress up here?’ said Case.
No one had.
Embarrassed, Case wiped tears from his eyes. ‘I thought they’d got you, is all.’
‘What about me? Thought I’d killed you with a message in the dirt. Case, I hope you didn’t come here to rescue me or bring me back. I’m not going, not yet anyway. This is a new start.’
‘Hadn’t thought that far ahead, to be honest.’ They followed the rest of the bandits who hustled along the ridge and down the steep pathway. Sharfy walked with them, listening. ‘Who opened the door anyway?’ said Case.
‘Not these guys. They just saw it was going to happen, and ducked in to get the morning paper.’ Eric lowered his voice. ‘So I’m told.’
‘You’re told true,’ said Sharfy.
‘Eric, you really won’t believe what I seen. They had me inside this big huge castle. I saw this guy, this sick bastard they call “friend and lord”. I stole his drink! Believe that? It was a good drop too, let me tell you. He’s their king or something, and I stole his wine!’
Sharfy made a strangled noise, and was suddenly so agitated he hopped from foot to foot. ‘What? You saw Vous? How? Invisible! How close you get? Could’ve put a sword in his guts! Why didn’t you? No! Don’t speak of it. Wait for Anfen. Hush about that. Hush!’
‘You got it, I’ll hush,’ said Case, giving Eric a look that said: what a nut …
Down by the roadside’s carnage someone had already beheaded the remaining mule. Eric paused, transfixed by the sight of Siel carving from its flank with her curved knife, her forearms covered in blood. It was that which tipped him over the edge in his gorge’s battle to cope with the bodies scattered over the road. He bent over and retched.
Others went through the soldiers’ pockets, taking coins and such small tokens. Anfen crouched beside a survivor and asked questions, but didn’t get much response. ‘Valour men,’ he sighed, giving up. To Eric, ‘There’s a myth. The last-second reprieve on the battlefield for the dying, if they have fought well enough. Talking to the enemy wouldn’t help him get it. He’ll take his chances on a Great Spirit no one’s seen in a lifetime or so. If ever.’
Sharfy added so the dying man would hear, ‘A Great Spirit he hopes came to watch combat that lasted a few seconds. If you call that combat. More like men under an avalanche.’
But the man lay in pain keeping his silence, and they gave up on him. The others drank what water was left on the cart. They bagged and pocketed the meat strips and biscuits. ‘Same as what I gave you in the tunnels,’ said Sharfy, tossing a leaf-wrapped piece to Eric. ‘Keep it for later.’ He went through the discarded weapons. ‘All standard issue junk,’ he said. ‘All shit. Not even city-made. Castle-made. Cheap and nasty.’
‘Halberds are city-made,’ said someone else. ‘They’re quality.’
‘Too heavy for us,’ said Sharfy, ‘we’re in a hurry now.’ He looked pointedly at Kiown then picked up two swords, held one in each hand. ‘All the same weight!’ He laughed. To Eric and Case, ‘Pick one out, you two. Get a scabbard for it too, dagger if you want. Take a bow if you can shoot. What the shit, steal their dicks if you see one you like.’ Sharfy laughed. He patted Eric on the back and whispered in his ear: ‘You want to be a hero, you’re going to see a lot of this. Heroes kill the bad people, they don’t sneak past them. How many men you killed?’
Eric swallowed. ‘Only seven.’
‘Must’ve done it pretty clean,’ said Sharfy, smiling. ‘You’re white as bone, seeing all this blood.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You sure? You look dizzy. How are your eyes? Fading in and out? Here, how many fingers am I holding up?’ In Sharfy’s hand were three fingers which had been cut off in the melee, perhaps from a stray swing while the Invia charged through the soldiers. He wiggled them in Eric’s face. Eric retched again and Sharfy brayed laughter like a barking hound.
Siel wiped the mule’s blood from her hands with a soldier’s tunic. She had not spared Eric a look since he’d fled up the path, but now she did, and it indicated nothing to him at all. Something had clearly changed but he didn’t know what it was.
Anfen took Case aside. ‘Friend, I think we should talk.’
Case sighed and pulled the necklace charm from his pocket, its beads clicking together. ‘I was getting to like having it, but I’ll part with it,’ he said, handing it over.
‘Something like this no one ever really owns,’ said Anfen, holding the necklace away from himself as though it were dangerous. ‘I may return it to you, once I know more about it. I may not. Loup!’
The magician jogged over to them, grinning. Loup wore no shirt, evidently proud of a torso still hard with gristly muscle, peppered with white hairs or not. Anfen handed him the charm. Loup’s eyebrows raised, and a toothless smile widened through his beard. ‘An oldie!’ he said, twisting it around his leathery fingers. ‘She’s an oldie, all right. Still got some kick in her, too! My word, she has got some kick.’
Case said, ‘Someone told me dragons touched it, or made it. That probably means more to you than it does to me.’
Loup nodded as though very impressed, and fingered its beads. ‘How long’ve I got her?’ he said to Anfen.
‘Learn what you can, sooner the better. But we must move.’
‘I’ll try. Oldie like this, won’t tell her secrets in a hurry! Need t’be coaxed, she will. Give her time, she’ll come good.’ He seemed to be muttering this to himself as he walked off, tenderly stroking the charm like an adored pet. ‘She’ll come mighty good, this one will, oh aye. Lots to tell, she has. Lots to tell.’
Not far from the scene of the Invia’s carnage, on a flat, smooth piece of stone on the cliff face, the word ‘Shadow’ had been written in letters that looked like they’d been burned on with great heat, like a brand across the skin of cattle. There the word waited patiently to be seen by the next passing patrol.
24
The day’s march was at a hard pace, first a tense stretch through the mountain pass, locked in on both sides by dark grey cliff faces sheer and lifeless. Once through they cut across hilly terrain, the country green and picturesque with no visible threat of danger, nor people in the scoured and abandoned villages. There was only a silence eerily complete but for the wind. Even the birds there just watched without a sound, seeming to wait for something, perhaps more remains to pick over.
Case had done his best not to complain at all this exertion, but he lagged at the back of the group until Anfen ordered the giant, Doon, to carry the old man on one shoulder. Loup, the folk magician, occupied the other shoulder. The giant frequently grunted in a way Loup understood to mean scratch, please. Loup’s gnarled fingers somehow knew which spot to scratch each time. Occasionally he’d say, ‘Not there, not for me! Find yourself a lady giant!’ and laugh as though it were the first time he’d made the joke.