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Twenty-Nine
A dead watchman stunk up the platform at their feet, Haun having done the honour of wrestling the man down and slicing his neck open before any signals could be lit, quick and efficient athleticism. The three of them hid in a watchtower up on a little knoll, freshly built from the few sturdy trees that had lined the broad river through Kisku—all that was left beneath them were shrubs and spindly little saplings that weren’t worth a fletcher’s time. “They’re prepared for a siege alright,” Tanner remarked, apprehensive at the moonlit trenches and fortifications. “They’ve been busy. I underestimated that old man.”
“Why d’you say that?” Haun asked.
“Meired didn’t give a shit about the army heading here. As far as she’s concerned the entire population of Kisku could hang.”
“So why does Grandfather keep her close?”
“Why does Ddun keep Lauren close?” Irynna said, less of a question and more of a declaration of the obvious. “It’s not because she’s with his child, don’t be stupid. You wouldn’t allow a woman carrying your child to ride at the head of an army—she’s bound to attract every arrow shot their way.”
“Not if Meired tells them not to shoot her,” Tanner said, but her point still stood. He pressed his chin up into his gloved fist, arm propped at the edge of the rail. He tried counting the men on the battlements along the castle—trying not to think of his sister full of arrows—ignoring the claw in his throat that told him he should be with the army, in the ranks… Stop thinking, count. Too far away and still too dark, no way to get a number. He could see the flickers of torches going back and forth. “You don’t think it’s because he’s madly in love with her?” He joked to hide the fear.
Irynna snorted. “I’m sure he is, but if I could enchant you to fight like a man ten feet tall, with Gods’ blood in your veins, you’d want me nearby more than normal.”
“I saw the giant step out of thin air, like a serpent out of a lake. Gave me nightmares.” Haun shivered audibly.
“There’ll be more than giants once the army gets here. Never mind the ditches and pointy sticks.” Tanner clenched his jaw at the thought. He tapped his thumb on the wood, face sagging. I can’t let her try alone. “Well Haun, what do you see?”
What Haun listed off was fairly accurate, aside from the soundless lightening and the slithering creatures in the ditches. Out of the tower, they slid down the far side of the knoll, under a jutting overhang, thick shadow, backs against damp stone and squatting low to the ground. Their horses waited for them just a few feet away, and Tanner’s palms sweat.
“You can go,” Irynna said in his ear, interrupting the silence. He couldn’t move.
“Well, I’ve got to start riding before the winter sun rises, and that’s getting closer by the day now. Last chance for anyone to come back with me.”
All Tanner could do was scrunch his face and press the back of his head into exposed rock. I should go back. “Go, fast as you can ride. Don’t stop for anything.” He swallowed the urge to vomit. Haun left after a brief hug from Irynna, and Tanner was left thinking he had just made a mistake.
If Haun was affected by trick-sight, Meired might know I’m here.
“…Tanner?” Iryna had been speaking. “Did you hear me?”
“Sorry.”
“I asked how we should sneak in… I was thinking we could head around to the city side, near the coliseum. They’ve got eyes on the river, most likely. Was I seeing right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you were seeing right.”
There was another long silence. They were both hesitating. “Did you want to know how I got the scar, over my breast?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “My aunt gave it to me. Tried to kill me, after she killed my mother.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to ask her before I kill her. My mother was my—my only friend in the entire world.” He could hear her quick breaths, through the dark he fumbled to find her hand, to clasp it, gentle for her comfort but she was trembling. She cried for a while, stuttering breaths in the night air, and his own heart split in two. He had never known her to be vulnerable like that. She needed to kill Meired.
***
“Rider from the south!” A shout and a horn blast announced the approach. Ddun halted his horse, the rest followed at a succession of trumpeted commands. With such a sharp glare of morning sun over the snow, even through the shade of his mask he raised hand to his brow to see.
The space between the rider and the army closed in. “It’s one of Irynna’s brothers,” Lauren noted. None of which he had sent out to scout. Unusual, he grunted in frustration at the thought there was something going on he didn’t know about. The rider lifted his mask with a small flag of red and gold in his fist to prove his alliance—Lauren was right. One of the falconers. A few feet away, he stopped and bowed on his horse, and Ddun gestured for him to speak freely.
“I have word from Tanner, my General. About Kisku.”
Ddun straightened in the saddle, his hold on the reins tightening at the words. “Tanner? Where is he?”
“He is there, now—”
“I’ll fucking strangle him,” Lauren looked as if she might truly leap from the saddle herself at the news, the whites of her eyes sharper than the snow-glare. And Ddun agreed.
“He offered to accompany me, to scout—so I could bring back word to you in case the others have given you poor reconnaissance. He decided to stay and—”
“Where’s Irynna?” Lauren’s interruptions might have made Ddun laugh, if he weren’t so angry himself.
“My sister is there as well, my Lady, more eyes.”
“I knew it,” Lauren said through her teeth, and Ddun would have to ask what it was she knew once this prick scampered off.
Ddun cleared his throat. “And what did you see?”
“Tanner said, he had underestimated Grandfather, as we looked down on the fortifications—from a watchtower, newly built, you could still smell the sap. I don’t quite know what he meant by that, but, I felt it was worth telling you. They have indeed stripped the trees, from what I saw, though we didn’t go near the sacred forest, but I doubt they’d find enough wood without those trees.”
“Go to the back of the line and tell the elders what you’ve told me, in great detail. And next time don’t lie to me about why you went scouting.” He gestured over his shoulder, dismissing the man, who gave him a low, over-gracious bow as if he wanted to slip head-first off his horse, and left his General’s company. Ddun noted the stain on the man’s gloves, the strings of coagulated blood on the shearling. By nightfall, all his men would be likewise stained.
***
In the darkness of the city, abandoned tents billowed listlessly in the breeze, supports cannibalized for the war effort and tattered canvases left where they fell as carpets over the ground. Market stalls empty, snow drifts undisturbed. No footprints but for animals. The competition grounds had their painted stones plucked out, leaving dents in the frozen clay as evidence where they had been half-buried for years. The coliseum was more crumbled than the castle, the stone structures with unlocked doors slapping against the walls as the wind gusted through. Added to all this was the thickness in the air, like a sort of tingling humidity, that Tanner hadn’t felt since he was a prisoner there. It all made apprehension seep out his pores as he and Irynna deftly navigated the shadows—light steps, bow in hand, bits of fur on the string to silence her shots, decorations removed and tucked away or smeared with mud to dull anything reflective. Tanner kept his hand hovering near the hilt of his sabre, sheathed in case the metal might glint and reveal them.
They stopped against what smelled like a brewery, their chests heaving from the rush of dashing shadow to shadow, taking in the smell of frozen mash from a batch left strewn. Snippy little animals scurried at the interruption of their meal.
Tanner looked to the north-east, noting the elevation in the landscape. He imagined the ridge in the daylight lined with Dvarri horselords ready to swarm down to the Kisku lowland, wondering if Grandfather intended to meet them in the field first or stay hidden behind the walls. “Do you think Haun will get back in time to speak with Ddun?” he whispered.
“He will. He wins races every year in Kaddusk. Do you feel anything? From the castle.”
“No. Not yet. Just a sort of… blanket. There’s a lot of magic here.”
“Once we’re inside the castle walls, should we go right for the keep, or lay low until the fighting starts?”
He weighed the options, jaw clenching and unclenching. “If we go straight for Grandfather and Meired, we might be able to stop the fighting before it starts. But, it’ll be a lot harder to get through unseen. If we wait, there’ll be enough chaos it might be easier to slip by with no one noticing us. Either way,” he grabbed her arm to bring her nearer. Moonlight limned her features, her clothes. Eyes meeting his as she raised her chin, his stomach fluttered. “We’re stepping lightly, do you understand? There might be thousands of them on the other side of the wall, and they’re all dressed to kill.”
“I wish I had magic to give you, Tanner.” A wash of cold went through him, her voice so fragile, then heat at how beautiful she was—his breath released in a shaking huff.
“You have mine.” He pulled the blanket from his face, took her hand to kiss through the glove, then her brow—to brake away was painful. The blanket was raised again over his nose as she turned, eyes downcast, and his heart pulled at his ribs.
They crouched, watching the castle walls, the brightness of the fires on the parapets lighting the armour of the guards walking back and forth. The rhythm was too smooth in some of them, like ants on an anthill, unnervingly odd. They watched for a long while, as the streams of men slowed to a trickle. The two dashed for the next shadow, then the next, heat returning to their limbs. There was a stack of long wooden stakes meant for the defences beside a lean-to, against the base of the wall, and he motioned to her: that’s where to bolt. The woodpile and propped stakes made the wall only slightly less intimidating to scale, as he attempted the mental math for the height of it. “No rope, no harness. I haven’t gone rock climbing in a while. I’ll fall and break my neck as soon as my foot slips.”
“No you won’t. You dare fall and I’ll kill you before you hit the ground.”
It wasn’t an empty threat, he knew, smirking under the blanket before returning his attention to the wall. Wood beams poked out near the top, he might be able to reach them, he could use the edge of the plaster as a foothold… and hope it didn’t crumble. He took a deep breath, and they dashed out into the shadow of the castle between the trenches and spikes. Once under the lean-to they were close enough to hear noises of the guards echo lightly down to them. The rattle of their weapons at their hips—the ones lucky enough to be armoured had heavier steps—indiscernible mumblings.
There was an axe left wedged into a chopping block, and Tanner took it, a companion to the other weapons in his belt, tunic thrown over the metal. He removed his coat and accepted the cold on him where the blanket didn’t reach. Wearing the same black clothes he left the castle with, the blanket nearly as dark, he mimicked formlessness.
Cautiously stretching his neck from under the slats, he watched above them, counting the seconds between men walking overhead. Long enough to climb up from the top of the woodpile, but not long enough to dash to the corner tower that lead to the keep. They’d have to take the men down quietly and quickly. Irynna was shuffling behind him, he made to hush her, only to see in a sliver of moonlight she had removed her left arm from her coat, tunic sleeve rolled up and tied tight with leather cord, blanket dropped—no fabric to hinder the bowshot. She was ready, twisting her archer’s thumbring into place, and his blood chugged at the thought he was about to climb that wall and she had his back. Sticking his head out again, he began counting, pinching up dry clay and crumbling it over his palms to absorb the sweat.
The guard was gone, Tanner ran to the wooden stakes and up them, jumping and grabbing at gaps between stones, pulling himself and jumping as quickly as he could while avoiding crumbling mortar, his fingers reached the deeper cracks above the lost plaster, his leather soles gaining purchase to launch him up, every muscle burning—no time to think about it. An arrow flew past, a wet lurch of a gasp above as Tanner pulled himself up to the protruding wood beams. Almost there. He could reach the low edge of the crenellations, hands clawlike. Over the edge he barely had both feet on the stone before taking his small knife from its sheath, ducking behind the crumpled body with Irynna’s arrow lodged in the neck. He didn’t know how long it took him, too long, his muscles all twitching and fingers aching. A fucking miracle. Who the fuck climbs a goddamn castle wall? Once the adrenaline wore off—if he found the time to fellate himself for his impossible physical feat—he’d hate himself for how sore he would be. Now to get Irynna.
Along the wall there were stacks of painted stones, picked from the competition grounds, all ready to be dropped or flung to crush the besieger’s heads. Barrels of something-or-other ready to be dumped, arrows ready to be fired. Another guard from the corner tower, and Tanner moved swift, hiding himself and the body up against a stack of stones. He didn’t dare use his magic, as tempting as it was. He pulled the axe from his belt, and as the guard came near enough Tanner put the beard of the axe around the back of the guard’s ankle and pulled, earning a surprised gasp from the guard with a hard fall onto the flat of his back—Tanner’s small knife went up under the jaw to halt a scream, his free hand pressing down hard over the dying man’s mouth to keep him quiet, hot blood gurgling, wetness from the guard’s spit and teeth under his fingers—Tanner’s resolve wavering as the bile rose in his throat to watch the life slowly leave the nameless man’s eyes, to feel him twitch his last before a final shudder and the man was dead. It seemed much slower than his first kill, to look the man in the eyes as his life was snuffed out.
He kicked the body away as soon as he could, feeling the air of death on him like filth on clothes. Why that guard’s death bothered him so much more than any others, he couldn’t say.
He wiped the blood from his hands as it chilled to the air, crouching along the wall he looked for a length of rope, a chain, knotted bedsheets, anything, finally finding a heavy coil of rope near the tower where the next guard might pop out any minute to wonder why his buddies hadn’t returned. Tanner lugged the heavy coil over his shoulder and crept low and slick to where Irynna waited below, wrapping one end around his arm and letting the other end drop, planting his feet firm against the crenelations for leverage and waited to feel the tug of Irynna climbing. When the pull came, he could feel the bounce of her weight, and hauled it all up, sweat pouring from the effort. His right shoulder ached, but as he saw her hand at the edge of the stone he felt relief. She made it, and they took a second to sit and pant next to the corpses before seeking out the tower nearest the keep, their knives both silencing the guards under the leather roof as they played their last game of chess.
There were stairs within the tower that led down to the inner bailey of the castle, where, if it were like the castle in Kaddusk, the temple and barracks and the other buildings sat stuffed with soldiers. They peered carefully over the edge of the barrier down into the open space, and indeed his hunch was right. Like sardines. Not just soldiers, either. People who couldn’t flee, who chose to stay. Families of the men—maybe even of the ones he had killed—livestock that needed fodder. They would all be starving. It hit his soul like a brick. They had to end this before it started.
“It’s getting close to morning,” Irynna whispered, “we need to get in the keep before the walls are full of men again.”
He nodded. They searched the guards, his man still clutching a knucklebone pawn. Finding a key, he tucked it into his boot. Irynna took the arrows from the quiver leaning against the wall. Then they were off.