Lacombe shook his head and stared directly into the gambler’s eyes. “Your hand or your neck. You decide now. Hold out your hand or die.”
Essain stared back, caught. The eyes of the man before him showed no feeling at all, and certainly no pity. Essain whimpered as Lacombe pulled back his kali for the killing stroke but at the last minute the gambler thrust out his right hand and closed his eyes. Lacombe smiled, sheathed his left kali and clasped the hand in his. Essain opened his eyes, relieved, at least until the right kali sliced neatly through his wrist. He screamed and was still screaming as Lacombe opened the door and strode through the kitchen and the tavern beyond. He moved slowly through the bar, Essain’s hand still clutched in his own; the severed wrist dripping a bloody trail behind him.
The Executioner stepped outside the tavern and took a deep breath of fresh salty air. It was late and the afternoon sunshine had given way to clouds and the promise of a late summer rain. He stepped out into the muddy street and up to Sunwind, who snorted at the smell of blood. Lacombe smiled and dropped Essain’s right hand and then kicked it under the porch of the Suckling Pig.
“Let us find more suitable lodgings shall we,” he said to his horse and they headed off in the direction of the Garden district.
ǂ
Traveler Jess na Gall came awake not to the clanging of alarm bells, but to the sounds of shouting, running feet and the banging of doors. At first she thought little of it; after all during a siege in wartime, such noises were common. But gradually she became aware that her bed and the floor beneath it were shaking, and then the roar began. The sound was soft at first, like a newborn’s sigh, but then it grew in volume until na Gall was sure her section of the keep would collapse at any moment. She lay utterly still; terrified as the floor began to shake harder, the roar growing so loud it was as if the Black Horseman himself was thundering her way, excited and anxious to finish a job long overdue. The Traveler could almost feel the pounding of horse hooves shaking the soft downy mattress beneath her and she bolted upright in the dark of her room, eyes wide with dawning horror.
‘The Palmerrio tunnel,’ she thought, finally coming fully awake. She jumped from her bed and dressed in rapid fashion, then sprinted into the hallway. Chaos surrounded her. The hallway was filled with dust, smoke and soldiers running in every direction. na Gall picked her way carefully down the hallway, stepping over debris and holding her hand over her nose in an attempt to filter out some of the dust. She struggled against the press of bodies, trying to reach the Queen’s private quarters. Luckily she didn’t have far to go.
“What’s happened?” She asked the pair of sentries standing outside and guarding the way to the Queen. Both shook their heads in unison and shrugged.
“Not sure yet Ma’am,” one of them answered, clearly excited and a little afraid. na Gall moved past them and they made no move to stop her. She entered to find the Queen already awake and dressed.
Captain Trammel, head of the castle guard, was at the window. They both looked up as the Traveler entered.
“You must take her now!” Trammel shouted loudly.
na Gall glanced at Ramona as Sanja, her old valet, came from the back rooms dragging several large trunks behind him.
“What’s happened?” na Gall asked.
“They fired the tunnel beneath the keep,” the Queen explained. “When it collapsed it took the entire southwest corner. We’re exposed.”
“You must Travel now!” Trammel insisted, but Ramona just shook her head. “I will wait for my guard,” she answered calmly.
“Sanja, go and collect Jory and the others. Meet us on the upper veranda,” the Queen added. Sanja bowed low and with only a slightly quickened pace, left the room.
“Come Captain let us go and see for ourselves,” Ramona added and moved out of the main room, passed her bedroom and along a hall which eventually led to a narrow stone staircase. They ascended quickly and came out at the very top of the northern most tower. Without prompting they all headed directly toward the southwest corner of the balcony.
The scene was one of utter destruction; a full three-quarters of the south wall had collapsed taking a quarter of the western wall with it. Though they could not see anything because of the darkness and dust, they could hear the roar of enemy troops as they finally entered the last stronghold of Toranado resistance.
“It’s over M’lady,” Trammel whispered softly. “We must get you out.” He glanced at na Gall, who nodded, then glided to the center of the veranda and began to weave a bridge to Manse. She knew it would have to be large and strong in order to save as many brave Toranadians as possible. She shook her head slightly thinking that this was all she was able to do anymore, create bridges for innocents to escape certain death. It was becoming a sad pattern; it was becoming a way of life. But before the bridge was even complete, she felt the presence of the young Prince Gwaynn Massi. She smiled to herself, comforted. He was ready; he would assist. The bridge rapidly coalesced into existence.
“No M’lady. We will hold them at the base of the tower for as long as we are able,” na Gall heard the Captain say as she once again became aware of her surroundings. The veranda was now crowded with people, with more emerging from the stairwell every second. na Gall glanced at the Queen, who had tears running down her face.
“Travel,” she told them all. “Prince Gwaynn is waiting.”
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Tarina Cyn de Baard returned to Manse three hours after Gwaynn and the army arrived. She felt refreshed, renewed, more herself. She was in control again. Gwaynn’s long absence allowed her enough time to come to her senses regarding her present situation. Despite her lapse, her weakness, she now knew she was in a near perfect position to complete her assignment and kill the young Massi Prince. And kill him she would, no matter the growing army that surrounded him, no matter his breathtaking fighting skill, no matter her love. He had to die; she knew that now. It was the only way to be free of the yoke he’d hatefully placed around her heart. She was an Executioner, a Tarina, and no one; not even the Prince of Massi was going to enslave her like some mindless beast of burden. Oh, she was going to kill Gwaynn Massi all right, and if things went to plan she might even be able to plant a kiss on his lips as his life ran away from him. If she couldn’t share his life, well then she would be happy to share death with him, after all it was the most intimate of human moments. She felt the familiar warmth spread up from her crotch as she thought of the Massi Prince. Thinking of his death, the heady feeling became even more intense and de Baard smiled to herself. She would almost be happy to see Brandt once again. She needed him on top of her.
Satisfied she was in control once more; she greeted several workers with a dazzlingly false smile as she passed through the newly constructed gates. The defenses were coming along fast and she knew the Temple Knights would be hard pressed to fight their way through them, Palmerrio allies or no. She actually felt a little pride for the people around her, they were working hard and training harder, but that would not keep her from using all her skill to bring about their destruction. She moved through the rapidly growing town and headed directly toward Lonogan’s lumber mill where she still kept a room. It had become her sanctuary, a place where she could relax after a grueling day of smiling, acting pleasant and training the peasants of this land. She shivered just thinking about it, but put on her most congenial face as she moved by people who considered her a friend. She would have liked nothing better than to gather them all up and burn them in a single fire. They could all burn, feeling of pride or not.