David Dalglish - The Old Ways

“Don’t be a fool, Darius,” Adam said. “We’re hoping your bounty’s worth more with you alive than dead, but we still get paid even if we drag your corpse to Robert. Drop to your knees, before I crack your fucking skull like a walnut.”

If Darius had his armor and sword, he’d have laughed, and dared the man to try. Instead, he tensed with all his strength. With Karak, he could have called upon his deity for power, and filled his hands with fire to burn away the cords. But what did Ashhur offer? He didn’t know, but it was time to find out. His neck muscles tensed, the rope dug deep into his wrists, and he snarled into his gag like an animal. Adam shook his head, as if disappointed, but his grin was ear to ear as he stepped forward to swing.

The rope snapped, the club hit his left forearm, and even though he felt bones snap, Darius struck Adam with his right fist, throwing all his weight into the blow. The roundhouse sent the big man staggering, and blood splattered across the dark earth as several teeth flew. The sound of the punch seemed to freeze the others, as if they could hardly believe what they’d seen.

“Goddamn,” Adam sputtered, his hand against his mouth. Blood dripped through his fingers. “You hit like Jerico.”

And then he swung his club. Darius ducked underneath, falling back into a retreat. The rest moved to join, his advantage of surprise finally lost. He shifted and parried blows with his right arm, keeping his left tucked against him and using it to absorb hits only when he had to. He head-butted one man, spun, and then rammed his elbow into the neck of another. Two bandits with torches tried to burn him, but the torches made poor weapons, and Darius pushed them aside. A club struck his back, but it hit thick muscle, not even knocking the air from his lungs. Spinning, he kicked the man in the knee, hard enough that he could hear the joint crack.

Adam closed the distance, but Darius caught him with a knee to the groin, and as he bent over, Darius uppercut him in the throat. Adam’s mouth opened and closed, trying for air, but he remained eerily silent. The rest backed away, and Darius felt his rage overwhelming him. Don’t kill, Jerico had said. Protect the innocent. But what of these bandits, these pathetic cowards who would steal him away in the night? Did they deserve his protection?

When he saw that none were moving against him, he reached up and yanked the rope from his head, then spat out his gag.

“Is this the best you can do?” he asked, gasping in air. The pain in his left arm was growing, and he felt his fingers shaking. “No wonder Sebastian doesn’t give two shits about your army.”

“It ain’t that,” said Griff, returning with a horse he led by a rope. In his other hand he held a long blade, and he pointed it at Darius. “We wanted to do this with you alive, outta respect for Jerico. But looks like you ain’t giving us much choice.”

“Seems so.”

Griff suddenly crumpled to his knees as the sound of metal rang out through the forest. Behind him stood Jerico, his shield in hand. He looked about as mad as Darius felt. He lacked any armor, but his mace was clipped to his belt. So far he hadn’t drawn it. So far.

“All of you should be ashamed,” Jerico said, the light of his shield washing over them. He joined Darius’s side, and he winced at the sight of all the blood. “How could you turn on one of your own?”

“He ain’t one of us,” said Adam, sounding funny with the missing teeth and his swelling lips.

“We’re just following orders,” said another.

“Orders?” Jerico looked about, and somehow, his anger grew. “Whose orders?”

“Mine,” Kaide said, stepping through the ring of men. His hand was on the hilt of his dirk.

“I’m not going in as your little prize,” Darius told him, grinning despite the pain. “I hope that won’t be a problem. ”

“I don’t understand,” Jerico said, approaching Kaide. The rest of the men tensed. “How could you do this?”

“How could I not?” said Kaide, drawing his dirk and pointing it toward Darius. “Do you know what he is? He’s months of food. He’s an arsenal of weapons. He’s a mercenary band that could break the siege at the Castle of Caves. Everything I need, right here, just by slitting his throat.”

“Do it, and I’ll kill you,” Jerico said. He looked about the gathered group, and Darius found himself stunned by the sheer fury in his eyes. It felt as if the air about them thickened, and no fool, Darius moved to his bedroll and lifted his greatsword into one hand. He might have trouble swinging it, but it’d be better than fighting unarmed. Jerico freed his mace.

“Don’t make this worse, Jerico.” Kaide took a step back, among his men. “I tried to take him alive, for your sake. We still need you, but we owe this stranger nothing. He helped burn Durham to the ground, and if he is innocent, then let him plead his case to Robert, not me. I’ll take the gold. It doesn’t mean a damn thing to me if I have to buy my revenge with blood money.”

“Move aside, Jerico,” said Adam.

“Yeah, get on out,” added Griff.

The two paladins shifted so they stood back to back. Jerico tilted his head, and spoke to Darius.

“I’m sorry. I thought them my friends.”

“So am I allowed to kill them?”

Jerico shook his head.

“I’d still prefer not.”

“I think it’s up to them.”

Darius pointed his greatsword at Kaide.

“Move aside,” he said. “I’m leaving, tonight, and you will not stop me.”

“Kaide,” Jerico said, and he met the brigand leader’s gaze. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me do this, not after all we’ve suffered through. You’re better than this. You know I will defend him. I don’t need my armor to bring you all down, not when I have my shield.”

Kaide jammed his dirk back into its sheath and shook his head.

“I told you, Jerico,” he said. “There’s no honor in our war, only justice. But for your sake…so be it.” He turned to Darius. “Leave here, tonight, as you said. I will send no man after you, so long as Jerico stays with me.”

“You’re too kind,” Darius said.

Kaide left, and at his absence, the rest of the men dispersed, leaving the two paladins alone at the dark edge of the camp. Darius kicked, scattering his armor, then collapsed to his knees. Jerico knelt beside him, setting aside his shield to examine Darius’s many wounds.

“Some friends,” he said as Jerico’s hands began to glow with blue-white light.

“Quiet.”

Darius relaxed as the healing light shone across his arms, then plunged into his muscle. He felt a sharp snap of pain in his bones, and then it faded. He stretched the arm, the limb tight and sore, but otherwise healthy. He wished the same could be done for his mood.

“We can’t go on like this,” Darius said.

“Of course. We’ll both go, and find…”

“No.” Darius shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. This bounty is absurd. No matter where we go, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“We can repaint your armor, maybe stash it on a horse or donkey.”

“And accomplish what? What can we do when I must hide, and fear the very mention of my name? No, I’ll fix this, one way or another.”

“How?”

Darius leaned his sword against a tree, then began gathering his things.

“I’m going to the Blood Tower,” he said.

“What?”

“I’ll speak to Sir Robert face to face. Whatever crime he believes I’ve committed, I’ll hear it with my own ears. I’ll tell him of the horrors done by Karak’s prophet in return. Either he rescinds the bounty, or I’ll…”

“Or you’ll what?” asked Jerico.

Darius struck the tree with his fist. The bark tore into his hand, and he clenched his teeth against the pain.