A COWARD’S VOW
Staring at the burned wreckage of the mansion that morning was one of the worst moments of my foolish failure of a life. A few bits of wall still stood, but the rest was a husk, slowly breaking into smouldering pieces, supported by the tall stone blocks that had been used to prevent anyone from leaving the house even as the attackers shattered cask after cask of oil onto the building before setting it on fire.
Valiana had been as good as her word. She had asked the Duke, her father, to promise freedom for the Tiarren woman and her children when she surrendered, and he had agreed all too willingly: a welcome gift to his child. But the attackers had picked up the falling crest that signalled surrender and doused it in oil before putting it to the torch with the rest, and then they had watched as everyone inside suffocated and burned.
Kest was with me. Feltock tried to keep the Lady Valiana inside her carriage with Shiballe, but she pushed him aside and joined us at the wreckage, Trin at her side silently shedding tears. Feltock wasn’t stupid. He had a pistol with him, ready for the moment when I would try to kill Valiana.
‘Leave it,’ Feltock said. I could hear the fear in the old man’s voice. ‘The Princess has been commanded by her father to take her Patents of Lineage to Hervor. We have a job, you and I. That’s all we got, that’s all we can do. This isn’t a matter for men like you and me.’
Valiana said my name, softly, tentatively. ‘Falcio …’
‘I am somewhat occupied at this precise moment, your Highness,’ I said. My voice was calm, natural. I wasn’t a fool. I wasn’t going to get myself killed just to assuage my guilt over the death of the Tiarren family. It was too late for them now, and all that was left was a proper burial and useless vengeance.
‘Say it, Trattari. I know you want to,’ she said to me.
If this woman thought she knew what I wanted at that precise moment, then she was surely out of her mind.
Feltock called out, ‘My Lady, please, there are three of them. I can’t be sure—’
‘You blame me for this, don’t you? You think I’m evil – go ahead and say it,’ she demanded.
Kest had his hand on his sword. He was ready for me to lose my temper and for Feltock to shoot me and, when he did, Kest was going to draw that sword like a bolt of lighting and cut Valiana’s throat. And then what? Wait for the next stupid offspring of Dukes to come and become the next tyrant – what would that solve? When would it ever end?
‘No,’ I said softly.
I don’t think they knew who I was talking to because they all hesitated at once. ‘No, Valiana, Duchess, Princess, Empress, whatever you like to be called. I don’t blame you.’
She looked at me and her eyes widened and her mouth opened a little, but she said nothing. She was waiting, cautiously, for absolution.
But I had none to give. ‘I believe in evil, my Lady. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it in my home, and I’ve seen it in the furthest reaches of this country. And yes, I’ve seen it here in Rijou. I saw it in Shiballe with his false smiles and secret plans, and I saw it in the Duke when you asked him to forbear for the sake of the Tiarren family and his eyes lit up, enjoying his private joke. I’ve brought justice to men like that. I’ve even killed them, when I’ve had to. And one day Shiballe and Duke Jillard will find a Greatcoat’s sword in their bellies.’
I picked up a small piece of still-smouldering wood and let it burn my hand for a moment before letting it fall.
‘But most of the terrible things that happen in this land don’t happen because of evil men, not really. They happen because of people who just don’t know any better. A tax collector who never wonders if this season’s crops might be too small to warrant the silver he has just collected: a family’s entire income. A soldier who never questions why he’s been told to take casks of oil and condemn a mother and her children to a fiery death. And a woman, barely more than a girl, who thinks only about how fine it will be to have a big castle and a pretty throne, and never wonders why so many great intrigues have been set in play to put her there. So no, Valiana, Lady, Duchess, Princess. I don’t think you’re evil. I think you’re much, much worse.’
She looked at me, and then stumbled back and Kest, his reflexes outpacing his intention, caught her before she fell to the ground. Feltock was wise enough to keep his cool and allow Kest to lift her into the carriage.
Shiballe stepped out, a smile on his lips. But then the smile disappeared as he looked past me. Trin, looking in the same direction, went white.
I turned and saw something coming out of the wreckage of the mansion: a girl, young, no more than twelve or thirteen years old. She was covered in soot and she looked disoriented. She stumbled and, as Kest ran to the saddlebags, I ran to the girl. I lifted her out of the carnage that had been her home and laid her down on a bench on the other side of the street near the carriage. Kest passed me water and bandages. I thought her skin might be charred, but cleaning her arms with water revealed that she wasn’t badly burned at all.
‘How did she survive?’ Kest asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I said.
Shiballe called to his guards and began whispering to them.
The girl opened her eyes and coughed. I gave her a little water and she drank it down, but when she tried to speak, wracking coughs overtook her.
I waited until they had passed before giving her a little more water. ‘Don’t try to speak if it hurts,’ I said.
She shook her head. ‘I can – I can talk,’ she said.
‘The girl will come with me,’ Shiballe said, coming towards us.
‘Take another step forward,’ Brasti said, ‘just one more step forward, you fat little monster—’
‘She is a citizen of Rijou and under the Duke’s—’
‘The Duke hasn’t done a very fucking good job then, has he?’
‘How did you survive the fire?’ I asked the girl.
She coughed again. ‘The crawl space,’ she croaked. ‘When Mother dropped the crest and the men lit it on fire instead of letting us out, she told us to go down to the crawlspace. But there wasn’t enough room – it’s so small – and my brothers wanted to fight, which was stupid because you can’t fight fire with swords. And then the little ones ran back up and I couldn’t reach them because something fell on top of the hatch. It’s all stone down there, so the fire couldn’t reach and I had water and towels to put on my face.’
She took another sip of water. ‘I kept trying, but couldn’t get out of the crawlspace – and then I guess the stuff that fell on the hatch must have burned off …’
‘Falcio,’ Kest said.
I looked at him.
‘She’s the last of the Tiarrens. If someone sees her, she’s dead.’
‘Shiballe’s seen her,’ Brasti said. ‘I say we kill him now.’
‘Then we’ll be dead too,’ Feltock said. ‘I’m afraid we have to move on now, men.’
I stared at him. ‘How can you serve Valiana now, when you’ve seen the cost?’
The old man’s eyes looked sad. ‘I’m a soldier, boy. I serve one master at a time and I go where I’m told. You’ll do the same if you’re smart.’
‘The girl can come,’ Valiana said to me as she stepped off the carriage. ‘It is the least we can do.’
I said nothing.
‘And I am the least of women, aren’t I?’ she finished. Her tone was bitter, but I couldn’t tell if it was aimed at me or at herself.
Kest packed up the bandages. ‘We need to move out now. It will be dark soon, and the violence will begin again.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Shiballe said, his guards standing behind him.
‘By what right do you contradict me, Shiballe?’ Valiana asked, a mixture of anxiety and anger in her voice.
‘Your Highness, this is still your father the Duke’s domain. His orders on this are very clear.’
‘His orders were for her to be protected.’
‘No, your Highness, his orders are for her to stay here, in Rijou. He will care for her as he sees fit.’
‘I will not go,’ the girl said.
‘See, the child knows her place is here, with her people.’
‘You’ve slaughtered her people,’ Brasti said.
‘And you have some proof of this, do you, tatter-cloak?’
‘The girl comes with me,’ Valiana said firmly.
‘Then, your Highness, you will not reach the outer gates alive. You will be slain for conspiring to impede a citizen of Rijou in the performance of her duty to the Duke.’
‘My father would never—’
‘It is treason, your Highness. Your father will be saddened by your loss. But that is all.’
Valiana looked at me. I looked back, and whatever was in my eyes was too much for her. ‘My father swore in front of his nobles that he would protect her family!’
‘No, your Highness, he did not. He swore to look into the matter personally, and ensure that his will was followed in the matter, and he did precisely that.’
‘There must be a way,’ she said to Shiballe, pleading.
‘The girl stays here. She stays until the end of Ganath Kalila. If she is still alive then, on the Morning of Mercy she can go to the Rock of Rijou where her name will be spoken by the City Sage and her presence recorded.’
‘How much fucking chance does she have to stay alive with no family?’ Brasti demanded.
‘It was not I who forced her mother to make such unwise decisions about whom to take to her bed, nor I who advised her husband, Lord Tiarren, to tolerate it.’
The girl tried to run at Shiballe, but Kest gently held her back and sat her on the bench again.
‘Duke Jillard would kill a woman and her family because adultery so distresses him?’ I asked, my voice tight and my hand sliding to the hilt of my rapier.
Shiballe smiled. ‘No, not that. It was the choice of lover the Duke found distressing.’
‘Come, girl, come with me. We’ll find a way out of this for you,’ Kest said to her.
‘No,’ she said, very firmly.
He stared at her. ‘What do you mean, “no”?’
The girl put her hands on the back of the bench and pushed herself up. ‘It is true: it is the Blood Week. If I do not attend the Duke’s ceremony at the end of the week, my family’s name, everything we have, becomes the property of the men who did this. My name – my rights of blood – will be gone for ever.’
She looked up at me, desperate. ‘I won’t do that,’ she said. ‘I won’t run away.’
‘Then you’ll be killed,’ Kest said, as kindly as he could.
‘I’m smart,’ she said, ‘and I’m pretty small. I’ll hide in the city – I’ll move around a lot. I just need to last the week and then be there to place my name on the Duke’s list.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This child, no more than twelve or thirteen, had just lost everything, her entire family, and now, as if that wasn’t enough, she was going to be killed by the Duke’s men or Shiballe’s men or someone else for an offence she’d had no hand in at all. And yet her answer was that she would stay and fight.
‘What’s your name, girl?’ I asked.
‘Aline,’ she said. ‘Aline Tiarren.’
My heart stopped and I felt my eyes darken. Kest put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. It was a name, that’s all – a very uncommon name, true, but a name nonetheless. A stupid name, given to a little girl who knew no better.
I knelt down in front of her. ‘Do you know what I am?’ I asked.
‘You’re a Greatcoat,’ she said. ‘You’re one of the King’s Magisters.’
‘And do you know what we do?’
‘Falcio …’ Kest warned.
I raised a hand and ignored him. ‘Do you know what we do?’ I asked again.
‘You hear cases,’ she said. ‘You give verdicts. You fight.’
‘We hear cases, we give verdicts and we fight. A crime has been committed, Aline. Do you want me to hear your case? Do you want me to give a verdict?’ I paused. ‘Aline, do you want me to fight?’
The girl looked into my eyes as if measuring my sincerity. Then she said, ‘I want you to fight.’
‘Falcio,’ said Kest, ‘you can’t do this. The Covenant—’
‘Fuck the Covenant,’ I said, rising and pushing him back. ‘And fuck you if you don’t know any better, Kest. What’s your solution? What’s your answer? Look,’ I whispered fiercely into his ear, ‘we don’t even know what’s going on. What if the Tiarrens were killed so that they couldn’t tell us where the King’s jewels were? What if this girl knows something about it? Keeping her alive is the only way we can figure out how to stop the Dukes. She’s part of it, I’m sure of it.
‘My Lady,’ I said to Valiana in a clear voice, ‘I feel a cramp in my leg. I am afraid I would delay your journey if I came with you. I beg your pardon to rest my leg and then I will join you all presently.’
‘When?’ she asked.
‘In about nine days,’ I said. ‘I’m confident my cramp will disappear by then.’
She looked at Feltock, at Kest, at Shiballe. Whatever answer she sought from them, she didn’t find it.
‘You are inconvenient, Trattari. My Lord father has made it clear I am to take my Patents of Lineage and make all speed north to begin preparations for my coronation. I cannot afford any more delays on your account.’
‘Your Highness—’ Shiballe began.
‘Silence. I’ve heard your instructions clearly enough: I cannot stay; I cannot take the girl. Very well then. Falcio val Mond, I order you to stay here until you are fit to travel.’
‘Yes, my Lady.’
‘Your Highness,’ Trin said, her expression full of concern, ‘it is too dangerous. They will have the entire city trying to kill them. Go instead to your father, the Duke; beg him to let you take the girl away. You can save her, give her a home, as your beloved mother the Duchess did for me.’
‘You forget yourself, Trin,’ Valiana said without looking at her.
‘Ah, yes,’ Shiballe said. ‘Consulting with your father would be the wisest course.’
I wondered if Trin was really so naïve as to believe that the Duke would ever be persuaded by Valiana after he had twisted her request already. More likely he would rub her nose in it.
‘Furthermore,’ Valiana said, ‘I have developed a special fondness for this girl. I would like to know her better. Should Ganath Kalila be completed by the time your leg is healed, then I instruct you to bring the girl to me.’
‘Yes, my Lady.’
‘You still work for me, tatter-cloak. If any of my special friends here in Rijou are inconvenienced by the poor manners of others, you will censure them on my behalf.’
We locked eyes. ‘Of that you can be assured, my Lady.’
She looked back at me. ‘Very well then. Feltock, get the men ready and let us be away. I am growing restless to complete my journey.’
‘Aye, your Highness,’ Feltock said.
He turned to me briefly. ‘It was nice knowing you, Trattari. But you’re a damned fool.’
Kest, Brasti, the girl and I were out of earshot of Shiballe and his men, who were standing a few feet away.
As the fat man gave instructions to his men, Brasti said quietly, ‘You can’t win at this. There’re too many of them – this whole town is a nest of snakes, and each and every one of them will be biting at you for the Duke’s favour.’
‘I’ll fear no blade,’ I said, my voice tight.
‘Falcio, they’ll kill you, and they’ll kill the girl!’
‘I’m not running, Brasti. You said it yourself – all we’ve done is run, and it’s got us nowhere.’
‘How then? Tell me how: even if you do somehow manage to survive the Blood Week, they’re never, never going to let you get away with it. What are you going to do then?’
‘I’ll reach the Rock,’ I said. I looked at Kest. ‘You’re quiet.’
He started pulling something from his pack. ‘Here,’ he said, passing me a small package. ‘It’s what I’ve got left of the hard candy. Maybe it will keep you awake.’
‘Oh, for the Saints’ sake – you think he can do this? Could you do it?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Kest said, ‘but I’ll wait the full Blood Week and five days more to find out. Falcio, if you haven’t returned by then, I’ll kill the woman. She won’t sit on the throne of Castle Aramor; that I promise you.’
He turned and walked towards the carriage. I picked up a small rock and threw it at him, striking him in the back of the head. He spun back around, ready to fight.
‘Just wanted to remind you that I do surprise you occasionally,’ I said calmly.
He didn’t smile.
Trin came to me. ‘Hide,’ she said, whispering in my ear. ‘They say this city has a thousand places where people could disappear for weeks, even months. Hide until it’s safe and get her out of the city. Stay away from the Morning of Mercy, whatever the girl says. Her name isn’t worth her life.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said.
‘Do better,’ she replied, and kissed me on the cheek before running back to rejoin Valiana.
‘What are they doing?’ Aline asked, pointing at Shiballe. His two guards appeared to be setting out a chair for him in the street.
‘They’re going to make sure we don’t leave,’ I said, ‘not until sunset, when Ganath Kalila begins and the violence starts.’
‘Then what?’ she asked.
‘Then we begin,’ I said.
Brasti was the last to leave. He threw his hands up in the air. ‘Fine. Goodbye, Falcio. You were a decent companion, if a little pretentious sometimes. I hope you realise I’m going to rob every damned corpse I encounter from now on.’
I smiled. ‘I suppose that’s only fair.’
He walked away, stopping only once to turn and say, ‘I’ll fire an arrow into the dying of the light in your name, Falcio. That’s all I can do for you.’
That might be something, anyway.
*
Having to wait patiently while the sun sets so that three men can kill you is an awkward feeling.
Shiballe had one of his guards bring him a small table for him to set a bottle of wine on while he passed the time. He kept a pistol on his lap and periodically slid his hand across the smooth wooden grip. The girl had tried to stay awake, but exhaustion overtook fear and she was now sleeping on the bench a few feet behind me.
‘A few minutes left, Trattari,’ Shiballe said, sipping his wine. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather rejoin your friends?’
I didn’t bother to reply. When you’re in a situation like this, every movement, every word, has to be about gaining advantage. I needed to get him and his men on edge, and that meant everything was about timing.
‘I wonder, Trattari, what prompts a man to stand there, perfectly still, while Death comes to claim him? Is it that you don’t fear Death? Or perhaps that you fear life even more?’
I waited a moment until he stopped expecting an answer and went back to his wine.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked the nearest of the three guards.
‘Silence!’ Shiballe said, before the guard could speak.
I ignored him. ‘My name is Falcio,’ I said.
‘You have no name, tatter-cloak!’ Shiballe said.
I kept my gaze on the guard. ‘My name is Falcio val Mond, and I am First Cantor of the Greatcoats. Do you know what that means?’ I asked.
The guard didn’t speak, but his mouth opened a little and, despite his efforts to stay still, he shook his head.
‘It means that no matter what else happens to me, no matter what happens to the girl, and no matter the little toy your fat friend is stroking, the man nearest to me when the light dies goes to whichever hell waits for men who would murder children.’
‘Stop talking to my men, tatter-cloak!’ Shiballe threw his nearly empty wine glass at me.
I congratulated myself on not flinching at all as it hit my right arm and fell to the street, shattering.
Shiballe’s men flinched, though.
‘My name is Falcio val Mond,’ I said again.
‘Say it again, I seem to forget,’ Shiballe snarled. ‘Come on, Trattari, what is your name?’
‘You know my name,’ I said softly, eyes still locked on the man in front of me.
‘No, really, I can’t remember it. Please do say it again.’
‘You know my name,’ I repeated.
The guard in front of me unconsciously mouthed my name. With the slightest of movements he shuffled back a few inches, putting him just slightly behind the second guard, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Good. They were scared. They’d be cautious when it started, and caution isn’t always a good thing in situations like this one.
‘The next man who moves a hair dies,’ Shiballe said, pointing his pistol at the second man.
‘Keep it on me,’ I said, and Shiballe jerked the pistol back towards me. I smiled just a little, for effect. ‘What’s my name?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know. I don’t remember the names of dogs,’ Shiballe said.
‘You know my name.’
‘I’ll kill you right now, dog,’ he said, but it was largely an idle threat. No one in Rijou would violate the one law of the Blood Week, not even him. On the other hand, the last rays of the sun were just starting to fade out.
‘Girl,’ I said, ‘get six feet behind me and stay there until it’s done.’
She got up, and immediately started coughing, no doubt from the smoke she’d inhaled inside her home as it burned her mother and brothers to death, but she looked more dazed than scared as she shuffled a few feet behind me.
‘What’s my name?’ I asked the guards again.
‘Falcio,’ one of them muttered, and Shiballe almost used up his pistol on him right there, which would have made things much easier. But I knew I wasn’t going to be that lucky.
Shiballe looked over at the soft glow off the edges of the rooftops and smiled. ‘Another few seconds, tatter-cloak. Any last words?’
I smiled back at him. ‘Watch out for the arrow.’
And then the light winked out, a great bell rang, an arrow fell from the sky and all hells broke loose.
*
True to his word, Brasti had fired an arrow in my name when the sun died. I imagine he had stood up on the hill outside the first gate, hundreds of yards from where I now stood, and pulled Intemperance from the locking hook attached to his saddle. Intemperance was a greatbow, nearly six feet long and powerful enough to drive the head of an arrow deep into stone or brick, and more than enough to drive through plate-mail. It wasn’t suited to any kind of close fighting, but from a distance – well, from a distance it was like dropping thunderbolts from the sky.
Now I’ve said that Brasti almost never misses, but this was an impossible shot. To get the kind of distance required he’d have had to carefully factor the breeze and distance, and aim very nearly straight up into the sky, with just the tiniest tilt to ensure its giant arc would bring it down into the middle of the street in Rijou. An impossible shot, as I said, and I won’t try to turn legend into myth by telling you that he somehow managed to drop the arrow through Shiballe’s pistol hand (which would have been awfully nice.) But he did get it close enough to give the fat bastard a start so that Shiballe missed what should have been a sure shot. Instead, the ball from his pistol smashed into the ground between me and the nearest of the three guards, and the man very nearly fell into his neighbour as he lost his footing. I launched myself as high and hard as I could, my left elbow aiming for the first guard’s face even as my right hand drew a rapier from its sheath. If you’re wondering why I moved so quickly and didn’t so much as flinch first, the answer is simple: I’d spent the entire time standing there with Shiballe and his men, preparing for the unexpected. You see, it doesn’t matter how fast or skilled or clever you think you are; four armed men with their weapons out are always going to beat a single opponent, unless something happens to surprise them. Greatcoats carry a good number of things to surprise an opponent, but they don’t work very well if you can’t reach into your coat to get them. So if nothing unusual had happened, I’d doubtless have died before I got my first strike in. A small miracle came along, giving me the initiative, and I just needed to act.
The point of my elbow connected squarely with the bridge of the first guard’s nose. The other got his blade up in time to block my rapier, but he wasn’t my target. I let my point drop right under the guard of his war-sword and flicked it into the face of the third man. People always underestimate the reach of a rapier – trust me, it’s longer than it looks.
I heard the girl behind me scream and saw Shiballe reloading, but I ignored it. By the time he’d got that pistol ready I’d either have won or I’d be dead. I will admit that it’s a bit distracting to have someone a few feet away from you loading a weapon that would definitely kill you, but I had three other opponents to help keep me focused.
The second man – the one who’d tried to parry me – did a nicely professional job of spinning his block into a downwards vertical strike aimed at my left shoulder. Unfortunately for him, I tilted my body sideways and watched it sail down past my nose before stepping on it hard. Then I flicked the tip of my right rapier past the face of the third man again and drew my second rapier with my left hand, getting it out just in time to make an awkward parry against the first man (the one I’d elbowed in the face). He threw the weight of his own sword into a cut at my left side and I took it on the blade. The force of his blow bashed the side of my rapier against me, but it kept me from suffering more than bruised ribs. I pushed the guard of my rapier down hard to knock his weapon off balance.
Shiballe was pushing powder into his pistol when the girl foolishly tried to wrest it from his hands.
‘Aline, get away!’ I screamed, flicking the tips of both my rapiers up into the faces of my opponents to distract them.
The girl managed to spill Shiballe’s powder to the ground, but then he grabbed her wrists and flipped her around, getting his right arm around her neck.
‘Trattari!’ he shouted. ‘Drop your weapons, or I’ll snap her neck like a twig.’
Everyone froze. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in my mind that he’d do it, but this is where we get down to the mathematics of the situation. Think of it this way: Shiballe had three men; one, with a broken nose, was bleeding heavily and the other two were getting a little sloppy. Now, let’s say he breaks her neck right now: what happens? Well, I almost certainly launch myself at him, drive my sword into his fat belly and get killed by one of his men. Bad for me, bad for Shiballe – good for Shiballe’s men, but that’s poor consolation when you’ve got a sword buried in your stomach. The math doesn’t really suit Shiballe here.
Now let’s say instead I nobly put down my weapons. The guards kill me, Shiballe kills the girl, finishes his bottle of wine, and goes home happy. The math is good for Shiballe, but very bad for me and for the girl. So that option doesn’t work either.
What’s really left? Well, let’s imagine for a moment that time freezes. Where are we? Shiballe’s got the girl so he feels better than if he had nothing and I’m (barely) holding off three guards. No one’s dead yet and everything’s possible and, strange as it might sound, that’s about the best option for everyone.
But of course time hasn’t frozen, and something has to happen.
This is where the mathematics really comes into play: you see, while it’s true that almost everyone has an interest in nothing changing, Shiballe’s position doesn’t really change that much whether he has three guards on me or two. I mean, I’m not saying it would be his first choice but he still gets a two-to-one advantage, and he still has the girl. So if something has to happen, then one of the guards dying is, mathematically speaking, the best option available to all of us.
That’s why I drove the point of the rapier in my left hand into the first man’s throat.
Shiballe’s arm tightened on the girl’s neck. ‘You’re killing her, Trattari,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Reflex.’
‘Drop your weapons, dog, and the girl at least will live.’
Fat chance. ‘You kill her and I’ll stab you in the face long before either of these incompetents gets a blow on me.’
He hesitated. ‘Then we appear to be at an impasse,’ he said.
Both his men had their swords ready, but they were waiting for a cue to act.
‘Not really,’ I said. Remember the maths? ‘You see, there are only a few possible outcomes here: one, you kill the girl, I kill you, your men kill me. The second possibility, you don’t kill the girl, I kill your men, and then I kill you.’
‘I think I can see another possible outcome, Trattari,’ he said. ‘Another of my men comes down the street, sees what’s happening and kills you.’
One of the guards smiled at that prospect.
‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ I told him. ‘This’ll be over long before that happens.’
The guard tightened his grip on his sword. I looked back at Shiballe. ‘There is a third alternative.’
‘Ah, of course, you mean the one where we let you go on your merry way and trust you won’t murder me in my sleep?’ he asked.
‘No, don’t be silly. I’m going to kill you one way or another, if not today, then someday in the future. You’re a sick bastard and I can’t stand the idea of a world that has you in it. No, my solution is much simpler, and actually has a chance of working.’
I took a breath. ‘You order your men to attack me together and you start running as fast as you can. Sure, they’ll be sacrificing themselves, but as long as they’re trying to stay alive they’ll give you the time you need to get away into the alleyways of this shithole you call a city. Chances are I won’t get to you before either you’re well hidden or someone comes along to kill me and the girl.’
I waited for a moment to let him think about it. ‘It really is the best option, mathematically speaking,’ I said, to reassure him.
His men were shifting nervously. ‘I like you, tatter-cloak,’ Shiballe said cheerfully. ‘You make good sense. However, if my guards attack you now, it really won’t impede my progress that much if I just twist this harlot’s daughter’s head off first, so I think that’s what we’ll do.’
I sighed. ‘You really don’t understand probability and mathematics, now, do you, Shiballe?’
He screamed for his men to attack, grabbed the girl’s head with his free hand, keeping his right arm firmly around her neck, and started to twist.
I threw my right-hand rapier at Shiballe’s face, point-first. Startled, he ducked, nearly losing his footing. As his men leapt for me, the girl squirmed out of his grasp and – stupidly – ran for the pistol, which was still unloaded. I sidestepped one blade and blocked the other. Shiballe reached for the girl again, but by then I’d kicked the knee out from the guard on my left and Shiballe saw the odds shifting against him. ‘Fight, you damned fools!’ he screamed as he ran for the alleyway on the other side of the street.
The guard whose knee I’d broken did an admirable job of fighting through the pain. He grabbed my left leg, pulling me down to the ground and giving his friend an opening to bring his blade down on me. As I went down on my back I shifted my rapier to my right hand and extended it fully. The tip pierced the attacker’s throat and his blade fell from his hand as his knees buckled under him.
That left the girl holding an empty pistol and clicking the trigger futilely, Shiballe long gone into the alleyways of the city, looking for help, and me lying on my back with the first guard still holding my leg and pulling a knife from his belt.
‘What’s my name?’ I asked calmly.
He stopped and looked back at me for a second, maybe trying to figure his chances. After a moment he slid back, dropped the knife and said, ‘Idiot should’ve killed the girl first.’
‘True,’ I said, getting my feet under me and standing.
‘Are you going to kill me now? I thought you tatter-cloaks didn’t do that unless there was no other way?’ the guard asked, holding his broken knee.
‘No, I’m not going to—’
The point of a rapier stabbed into his right ear. I got my sword up, and only then realised the girl had done it: she had dropped the useless pistol and picked up my fallen rapier and driven it into the side of the man’s head.
Calmly as anything, she pulled the blade back out, wiped the blood off on the guard’s face and handed the rapier back to me, hilt first.
‘We should run now,’ Aline said.