The Massi soldiers on either side of Kostek rushed forward to meet the guard, but Kostek remained focused on the approaching Executioner.
“Watch my back,” Kostek said to Tar Endid, who nodded.
“So Noble Island has chosen the path of destruction,” Tar Giodart said as he slowly drew his kali and began to cautiously circle the old man from Noble.
Tar Kostek said nothing just attacked. He moved quickly and surely keeping constant pressure on his opponent in the hope to end the conflict rapidly, but the Executioner was equal to the task and soon shifted the fight so that Kostek was on the defensive.
“Impressive for such an old man,” the Executioner said and meant it. Kostek, at just over fifty, was well older than even the eldest Executioner. ‘The Tars of Noble grow weak with age,’ Giodart thought with a sneer then had to skip back from a blow designed to take off his head. “You stay out of this!” Giodart barked at Endid, who showed no signs of interfering, but instead kept the immediate area free of any threats from the King’s guard.
“No need,” Endid said to the Executioner as Kostek waded in again with a flurry of attacks. Again the Tar from Sinis was able to deflect or block every blow and even smiled just before the right foot of Kostek shot up and caught him in the chin. Giodart’s head rocked back but he instinctively threw up his kali in defense, but Kostek, with the very move he taught Gwaynn so long ago, used his left kali to slice completely through the right leg of the Executioner.
With a scream of surprise and pain Giodart dropped to the ground and ill advisedly released his right kali and grabbed for his leg. He held up his left kali in an effort to defend himself, but Kostek easily knocked it aside and stabbed down forcefully. His kali passed clear through the Executioner’s neck and out the back side. The stricken man jerked about for several long moments before his eyes went blank and he was still.
Tar Kostek pulled his kali free and with Tar Endid at his side turned to reenter the fray, but nearly all fighting had stopped. The sun just dipped below the horizon as the King of the Palmerrio surrendered.
ǂ
Samantha was already in bed when there was a soft knock at the door. She knew Cobb was outside and hoped he was not thinking to have another “go” at her but she suspected it was Raisa checking up on her so she answered.
“Come,” she said sleepily, wanting nothing more than to fall back into the bed she’d first shared with Gwaynn and dream of her lover. But it was not Raisa or Cobb at the door, instead it was Emm, looking lost and a little shy.
“Sorry to bother you ma’am,” Emm said softly, standing in the doorway, making no attempt to enter. Samantha jumped out of bed, her long nightgown swirling at her feet and immediately realized that Krys was the problem. The thought caused an explosion of worry to ripple through her consciousness as her thoughts once again went to Gwaynn. She was not with him…not fighting by his side in battle for the first time in over a year. It made her feel anxious and a bit guilty. He could be dead even now and she would not know it. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought, which was too gruesome to consider. Cobb was standing, hat in hand just behind the young girl, looking sad and shifting from one foot to the next.
“No bother Emm…come in,” she added.
Emm did so…tentatively at first, but smiled as Samantha reached out with her good hand and took a hold of her and gently pulled her farther into the room.
“Good night Cobb,” Samantha added and softly closed the door so as not to disturb the Magistrate and his wife, though the Koch’s had taken to sleeping in a small room off the kitchens. As Raisa got older she found she couldn’t stand the cold and preferred to be downstairs where she kept not only the fireplace in their room going but the large potbelly stove in the kitchen as well. Samantha kept her own fireplace cold and empty and even had to open her bedroom window against the heat emanating from the lower part of the house. But the very light breeze coming in through the window was delightfully cool and far from cold, after all it was only early October. Samantha wondered just when winter would hit up on the Plateau and so near the mountains; she suspected it would be sooner rather than later.
“I should go,” Emm said simply and tried to pull away from Samantha, but her grip held firm.
“Nonsense,” Samantha answered. “Stay…you can share the bed with me. I’ll just be thinking of Gwaynn anyway…like you’ll be thinking of Krys.
Emm nodded then started to cry. Samantha hugged her and gently led her to the bed and they sat, close together, while Emm continued to cry. Samantha held the still grieving girl for a very long time as she attempted to cleanse her wounded soul.
On the far side of town, Cyn de Baard was dressing, not grieving, though she knew her plans would in all likelihood put an end to any dreams she had of a life with Gwaynn Massi. ‘So much for love!’ She growled to herself as she pulled on her black silky pants. They felt wonderful against her skin. She’d not realized just how much she missed wearing them. She ran her hands over her backside, feeling the soft firm flesh just below the thin fabric. She’d lost a little weight during her stay in Massi; she would have to rectify that once she was back on Sinis. It wouldn’t do to become too thin. She sighed. Her body ached for Gwaynn and she would have liked to know him intimately just once before she was forced to leave. But it was not to be, so she decided then and there that once Tar Nacht was dead she would take a lover…perhaps a woman this time…yes a woman would be delightful after the lumbering oaf Brandt.
She shook away such thoughts and slipped into her silk shirt…also black and then pulled on a cape to match. She strapped a belt to her waist and sheathed her kali then stuck a small needle knife at the small of her back and smiled to herself. She felt good; better than she had in a very long time. Her shoulder was still stiff but its range of motion was growing every day and the wound in her side was no real bother. Though it had been painful, it was superficial, doing little harm. Yes, she was ready. Yes, she felt good and she knew she looked good as well; all the clothes she now wore were trimmed in red.
Once dressed, she sat on the bed for an hour waiting for the night to deepen. When she could stand it no longer, she stood and slipped out of the room she occupied at a small inn near the outskirts of town. She would have liked to wait until near the witching hour but she wanted to be well gone before daylight in case the Massi decided to pursue. Still, she was confident the darkness of the early evening would hide her and she was well practiced in the art of appearing invisible.
As it was, she needn’t have to worry about being spotted. If there were sentries she didn’t come across any and the streets of the small town were all but deserted. The lone person she did slip past was so drunk she doubted he would have noticed if she was skipping naked down the center of the road.
But de Baard was not skipping; she was moving stealthily from shadow to shadow, not taking any chances now that she’d finally decided to act. She was so close to eliminating the one person who robbed her of love. The Town Square was eerily vacant but de Baard did not mind in the least. She entered the square directly opposite the Magistrate’s home but was able to circle quickly around. She stopped in the shadows of a tailor’s shop and studied the entry points of the house carefully.
The home was a large two story affair with a long wide porch out front and numerous windows on the main floor, but just a single one above. She saw only one faint light coming from the window on the second floor. The fact that the light varied in intensity told her that it was most likely coming from a lone candle. As de Baard stood there regarding the light a loud cough sounded in the night, coming from off to her right. She peered in the direction, but could not see anyone and finally decided it must have come from an open window. From where she stood she could see a number of windows thrown open in the nearby homes. Most were dark but some were lit brightly, and she could hear the buzzing of several nighttime conversations drifting through the dark. The fall night was cool but could not yet be considered cold and there was little or no breeze to stir the air. Many people were obviously enjoying the pleasant night air. She would have to be mindful. Any cries of pain or fear were sure to be heard by a great number of the town’s citizens. She would have to be quick, careful and above all quiet.