Richard Ford - Lord of Ashes

Besides, weren’t no guarantee Bastian was even gonna survive this. Who was to say Amon Tugha would keep his bargain and give the Guild a pass? Especially now Bastian hadn’t kept his side of the bargain.

No, her and the lads would be far away by the time the dust settled. Once the fighting was done, if Bastian was out of the picture they could always think about coming back. There might even be rich pickings too. Lot of empty houses to hole up in. Lot of family heirlooms left abandoned. Lot of dead people wouldn’t be needing any of their gear no more.

Rag walked into the tavern by the back door, wondering about the rights and wrongs of that last one, when she heard a ruckus from inside. She opened the door to the main bar to see the place was upside down: tables overturned, bottles smashed, tankards strewn about. Big Harkas was sitting silent, leaned up against the wall, bloody towel held to his face. Shirl was sat beside him like some kind of useless nursemaid. Essen stood in another corner looking scared half to death.

‘What’s goin on?’ Rag asked, feeling a little sting of panic as she realised there was no sign of Chirpy, Migs or Tidge.

‘Some of Bastian’s boys paid us a visit while you were gone,’ said Essen. ‘Said you’d have some news for us when you got back. And-’

‘Where’s my lads?’ Rag said, fighting back the dread.

Two heads popped up from behind the bar, and Rag let out a sigh as she recognised Chirpy and Migs. They both looked terrified but at least they was alive.

‘We tried to stop them,’ Shirl said. ‘But they said Bastian wanted to make sure you knew he was serious.’

‘What do you mean?’ Rag said, glancing about the bar. ‘Stop them doing what? Where the fuck is Tidge?’

‘They took him,’ said Essen. ‘Said you’d have a job for us and taking him was to make sure it got done.’

Rag could only stare in between Chirpy and Migs. At the space where Tidge should have been stood.

You’ve got a decision to make now, girl. Looks like all those thoughts of running away are gone on the wind like so much ash. Looks like you’re gonna have to do exactly what Bastian wants or little Tidge is gonna get his little heart carved right out of his little chest. How you gonna live with that one?

Rag knew she could never live with that one. But neither could she live with opening the Lych Gate and letting those Khurtas in. That would never fly, no matter how much danger her boys were in.

‘What is it we’re supposed to do?’ asked Shirl, looking all mournful like he half knew the answer.

Rag looked at him, then to Essen and Harkas. Then to Chirpy and Migs.

‘I’ll tell you what you’re supposed to do,’ she answered, feeling her jaw tighten, her fists clenching. ‘You and Essen are gonna get Harkas and the young lads and you’re gonna hide down in Dockside. Those fire ships have been burnt to cinders and are sat at the bottom of the bay so it’ll be the safest place in the city. You’re gonna find the deepest hole and you’re gonna hide in it and wait.’

She knew she’d said it like she meant it and none of the lads looked ready to argue.

‘Wait for what?’ asked Shirl eventually.

‘Wait for me to come get you.’

‘Why,’ said Shirl, almost in tears. ‘Where you going?’

‘Where do you think I’m going? I’m off to get Tidge. Now enough talking and more fucking moving.’

Essen and Shirl picked Harkas up, who silently accepted their help. Chirpy and Migs followed them as they went for the door. Chirpy looked up at her as they made their way out.

‘You are coming back, ain’t you?’ he asked.

‘Course I am,’ Rag said, tousling his greasy mop of hair. ‘Now piss off.’

She watched them go, standing there for a minute alone in the tavern. She knew there weren’t much chance she was coming back. If Bastian didn’t do for her then the Khurtas would most likely come crawling over the city walls and do for her instead. There was no coming back from this. Up till now she’d always had some sort of plan, whether she thought of it in plenty of time or at the last moment. Right now she had no plan. No idea what in the hells she was gonna do.

No point putting it off, though.

Rag walked out of the tavern. The streets stank of rot and mud and smoke. Of war. Of death. She didn’t care about any of those things, though. As the rain soaked her hair and her jacket through, she didn’t think about any of it. All she thought about was finding Tidge … and maybe killing that bastard Bastian to boot. If only she was a killer. If only she’d taken to carrying a knife and learning to use it then maybe none of this would ever have happened.

As she saw the Chapel of Ghouls in the distance Rag knew it was hopeless anyway. She’d never have the stones to use a knife. Not on a living, breathing person. Getting someone else to do the killing for you, now that was easy enough. Sticking sharp metal in them until they stopped breathing was more than likely beyond her.

Once she’d made her way to the entrance to Bastian’s lair she paused, squinting up the street, towards the chapel. Was there something moving up there? Something fucking weird through the rain and the dark?

Focus, you stupid cow. Letting shadows in the night spook you is a sure way to get yourself killed.

Rag shook her head, ignoring whatever it was — if it was anything at all. The fear was most likely addling her mind, making her sloppy. Being scared had a habit of doing that, and she knew she couldn’t afford to let it put her off. Tidge was relying on her.

She slipped in through the entrance, relieved that there was no one guarding the door. Inside, the sound of rain echoed down the corridor to the underground passages and it weren’t no trouble for her to move silent. There were a couple of fellas standing in the dark, hoods drawn up against the cold and damp, but Rag was by them without either even knowing it. She’d never had the best sense of direction but even she managed to make her way to the centre of Bastian’s hideout without getting lost. There, in the shadows, she tried to think what in the hells to do next.

Light was coming in from somewhere, but from her hiding place in the dark Rag couldn’t tell which direction. Before she could think of where to start looking for Tidge she heard a voice from down the corridor.

‘It’s true, I swear it.’ The voice sounded firm but with an edge of desperation. ‘I’d cleared the rest of the gate detail ready for your boys to go in and do the job. When I saw all the lights had gone out I went back for a look.’

Rag made her way towards the sound of voices, careful to stay out of the light where it was cast across the floor of the underground cavern.

‘Then what?’

Rag almost froze at the sound of Bastian’s voice, creaking towards her like a rusty door hinge. This was it, though; Tidge must be close by somewhere.

‘Then I saw Jerrol. Asked him where the rest of his crew were and he said outside, but there weren’t anyone outside. Then he got spooked. Went up to check out some noise on the roof. I could hear weird shit all around so I fucking hid. It was dark, no one was going to see me. Then Jerrol started shouting, ran out of the gatehouse and into the street. That’s when he was fucking murdered. Later on when it had gone quiet I had a look around and his whole crew was piled up in the shadows. Wiped out to the last man.’

‘By who?’ asked Bastian.

‘I couldn’t really make them out in the dark. But there were kids. Little kids running around in the night. One of them was a girl, I’m sure of it.’

Rag froze at the edge of the entrance. If Bastian wasn’t going to kill her before, he sure as shit was now. Nevertheless, she peered around the corner, slow as you like, trying to see in. Bastian and two of his men were standing in the room, lit bright as day by a lantern on a table. There was another bloke with his back to her wearing a green jacket with the royal seal on it.