Roger Taylor - Ibryen

‘They’ll come back,’ she whined. ‘They’ll come back. They’ll tell him what’s happened and he’ll send them back for me. They kill people. He’s taught them to. They always do what he tells them.’

The laughter faded abruptly and the three men looked at one another significantly. ‘Who are you talking about?’ said the leader, bending down and dragging her to her feet. ‘Who’ll send them back?’

‘Don’t hit me, please.’

‘I’ll do more than hit you, you dozy little sod. Just answer my question. Who’ll send the dogs back?’

‘Him!’ Jeyan exclaimed fearfully, pointing. ‘Him. The big man they belong to.’

There was such alarm in her voice that all three spun round in the direction she was pointing as if expecting to see Hagen’s murderer about to fall on them. One partly drew his sword. Jeyan found herself pulled off her feet again. ‘Who’re you talking about?’

‘Him! Him! The one who owns them. They go everywhere with him.’

The questions became urgent. ‘Who is he? Where is he?’

Jeyan shook her head and pointed again, mimicking increasing terror. There was another hasty conference, more serious than the last and with some head-shaking and hesitancy, then the leader decided. ‘Show us.’

Jeyan shook her head violently. ‘I’m afraid,’ she said. The soldier struck her across the face. This time the blow caught her fully and sent her sprawling facedown on the ground. It was a long time since she had been touched by anyone other than the two dogs and she was finding her response to the manhandling she was receiving difficult to contend with without retaliating. Now, for a moment, her face smarting and her ears ringing, a screaming, manic anger threatened to overcome her judgement and she nearly snatched out the knife. She came to herself just as her hand closed about its hilt and managed to release it as, once again, she was dragged to her feet.

‘The one you’ve got to be afraid of is me!’ said the leader. ‘Now take us to this man.’

The reluctance of the others gave itself clearer voice. ‘We should get some help. If this fellow killed Hagen, he’s not going to be some puny little simpleton like this one. And I don’t fancy dealing with those dogs.’

The soldier holding Jeyan gave a snarl of disdain and struck his companion on the chest with the back of his hand. ‘What do you mean, if? A big man and two mad dogs. Who the hell else could it be?’ His manner became more conciliatory. ‘Come on, move yourself. The dogs caught us all by surprise before. They won’t do it again, will they? What do we need help for? One man and two dogs against us!’ The man wavered and the attack was pressed home, this time with a prodding finger. ‘I’m damned if I’m going to hand this prize over to that bastard captain who thought it such a joke to leave us here. “Wait till nightfall,” he says with that sneer of his. And still less am I going to hand it over to those snots in the Guards. We catch the man who killed Hagen, and there’s plenty of good things will be lined up for us. Reward, promotion, soft city duty instead of flogging through the mountains. Whatever we want.’ He concluded by laying a fraternal hand on his companion’s shoulder.

The wilting reservation gradually became a shrug of bravado. ‘You’re right,’ concluded the reluctant soldier, brown teeth smirking. He made to cuff Jeyan. ‘Come on, hero. Show us where this great assassin skulks.’

‘Don’t hit me any more, please,’ Jeyan whined. ‘I’ll show you. But you’ll keep the dogs off me, won’t you? I don’t want the dogs to get me.’

The Teeth affected a pained expression. ‘I don’t mind taking on death-pit dogs and some Ennerhald lunatic, but I don’t want to put up with that whingeing all the way.’

The leader did not reply, but gave Jeyan a telling look and shook her to silence as they set off. After a little while and a few stumbles by Jeyan he tired of holding her arm and let her walk just ahead of him, though he drew his sword and the two others came closer. From time to time, Jeyan stopped and looked around as if thinking where she should go next. In reality however, full of blazing anger and hatred, she was luring them deeper into the Ennerhald. The further they went, the more they would be moving into her own territory, with its many hiding places and secret exits and entrances. Sooner or later they would become careless and then she would be away. With good fortune, a swift stroke would wound the leader to slow down any pursuit. Discreetly she checked her knife.

They continued in silence, moving along the winding, uneven streets and past decaying buildings with blank-eyed windows and crumbling thresholds. Eventually, the strangeness of this long-dead city within a city began to unsettle the three soldiers.

‘This place is giving me the creeps,’ the Teeth said. ‘It feels bad. There’s more places for an ambush here than in the mountains. There could be an army around us and we’d never know.’

His complaint received no sympathetic hearing. ‘Shut up,’ snapped the leader.

‘We should go back. What if killing Hagen was just to lure us into the Ennerhald – the army, that is. A trap.’

A hand caught Jeyan’s arm and the short procession stopped as the leader turned to deal with this query. ‘Then you can bravely cut your way back to the Citadel and raise the alarm, can’t you? Who’s going to lay traps for us , here, you idiot?’

There was little note of banter in his voice as he vented his own growing concern on his subordinate. That’s right, Jeyan thought savagely. Quarrel. Fight amongst yourselves. Give me the least chance to bring one of you down. Surreptitiously she looked around, but there was nowhere immediately by that would serve as an escape route.

‘I was only…’

‘Only what? Thinking? Don’t, it’s bad for you, leave it to me. You just keep your wits about you.’

Jeyan waited for an angry response but nothing happened. The recipient of the abuse merely glowered. Then the leader turned his irritation back to Jeyan and gave her a powerful push in the back. ‘Come on you, move! We haven’t got all day. How much further is it to where this individual lives?’

‘Not far,’ Jeyan said.

‘How far?’

‘Not far. I think. I don’t know. I don’t come round here much. I’m frightened. He’s dangerous. He…’

‘Yes, we know. He kills people.’ The leader seized Jeyan’s jacket with one hand and pulled her forward so that his face was almost touching hers. Jeyan screwed her eyes tight and turned away, genuinely fearful that, so close, he might realize that she was not the youth she had been taken for, but a woman, with all that that implied for her. She had no doubts about her inability to contend with someone so strong, no matter what they chose to do. The edge of the sword came terrifyingly to her throat. ‘Well, so do I. And I’m here, right now, lad. Do you understand?’

Ironically, relief flooded through her at this conclusion. He hadn’t noticed. She nodded as frantically as the menacing blade would allow until she was eventually released.

‘Not far, not far,’ she gasped, pointing. ‘Round the corner, down the hill, through the…’

There was another angry push. ‘Just move.’

They set off again, moving further and further away from the city, the three soldiers watchful and uneasy, Jeyan forming and discarding plans for her escape. Having felt the strength of the leader and studied him a little, she was having reservations about being able to use her knife against him. It was sharp, but the uniforms were stout leather and robust-looking, and might be difficult to penetrate with a direct thrust. Further, the jerkins rose to cover most of the throat. She would have to attack a hand, or the face – the one small, fast-moving and not immediately disabling, the other precious little bigger and protected by deep and ancient reflexes. Whatever she did, she mustn’t let them get hold of her once she made her attempt to escape. She must keep her distance, use her speed and knowledge of where she was to flee and hide. She began to be very afraid.