Jerek’s chest heaved as he sucked in air. He had obviously been running hard. ‘A score of Crimson Watchmen, maybe more. Approaching on horseback from the north-west. They got Augmentors with them, one of them a giant of some kind.’
‘How far?’
Jerek spat again. ‘A league, could be. Maybe a league and a half. They ain’t messing around. They’re armed to the teeth. I reckon we got twenty minutes before they get here.’
Brodar Kayne turned to Sasha and Isaac. ‘Listen. If they catch us things are gonna get bloody. We can’t fight that many men, but we can lead them away from here. Give you two a chance to make good an escape.’
Sasha shook her head. ‘What about you? You’ll be hunted down and slaughtered.’
He gave her a level stare. ‘I’ve escaped death often enough in the past, lass. If this is my time, so be it. But you and Isaac, you still got a chance of getting out of this alive.’
It was the manservant’s turn to shake his head. ‘I know the groom over at the stables. He has a few horses that didn’t fall victim to the tentacled monster. They’re not the quickest, but they might get us to the coast.’
Sasha nodded. ‘The Unclaimed Lands are too far. We’ll be ridden down and slaughtered. Maybe if we can cross over into Thelassan territory-’
‘You planning to swim the channel?’ Jerek snarled. ‘Ain’t a man alive who can do that. And we got thirty miles to the coast. I say we hole up here, give those fuckers the fight of their lives.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Sasha. ‘We can’t do that to these people. I know the Watch. They’ll torch the entire village if it means getting to us.’
‘Aye, she’s right.’ Kayne took a step forwards. ‘Isaac, fetch the horses. I’ll go get my sword. We’ll give them a chase they’ll remember.’
Jerek turned away and muttered something savage. Kayne ignored him. He was already running back towards the physician’s home where his greatsword was stashed.
Three weeks, he thought. Three weeks of peace. I’ve never felt so relaxed and carefree. His feet hammered on the dry muddy ground, sending jarring impacts up to his knees. They were already starting to ache. There was something almost comforting in that.
It took him a moment before he realized he had a smile on his face.
‘Not much further,’ Isaac shouted. He was out in front again, having taken the lead for most of their mad gallop from Farrowgate. To the surprise of none of them, it turned out he was a skilled rider. Brodar Kayne knew how to handle a horse, but even he’d found the uncertain terrain a challenge. The manservant, however, had guided them with an assuredness the chasing soldiers could not hope to match.
It had been almost two hours since they fled the village. The sun was a red orb sinking beneath the hills to the west. He could feel his horse heaving beneath him, sucking in great gasps of air. It couldn’t keep up the pace much longer, but it didn’t need to. The coast was only a few miles ahead of them.
The question of what they would do when they actually reached the coast was another matter entirely, but he figured it was enough to focus on one thing at a time.
He glanced behind him. The soldiers had gained some ground over the last ten miles, but there was still a good distance between them. Gaius had evidently succeeded in delaying them for a while back at Farrowgate. He hoped the physician had followed his advice and not been too obstinate with their pursuers; he didn’t want to be responsible for the kindly old man taking a beating or worse.
Sasha was clinging onto Isaac for dear life. The girl wasn’t very familiar with the back of a horse. That had become apparent as soon as she had vaulted onto her mount and promptly slid off to land in an undignified heap on the other side. At least Jerek had had a good chuckle out of it.
The Wolf tugged at his reins, closing the gap between them. ‘Kayne,’ he rasped. ‘We’re almost at the coast. What’s the plan?’
Right. A plan. Can’t put it off any longer. ‘We split up,’ he said. ‘I’ll get their attention, try and lead them west. You look for a way across the channel. Failing that, loop back around to the north.’
Jerek took a second to digest his words. ‘That’s it?’ he growled. ‘Fuck me, and there I was thinking you knew something I didn’t.’
The old barbarian shrugged. The horse beneath him stumbled suddenly, sending spasms of pain arching up his back. ‘Best outcome we can hope for is that they split their pursuit,’ he said between clenched teeth. ‘Three against ten, I reckon you stand a chance. Ain’t a hunter or tracker who can match you, Wolf, and you know it.’
‘Could be,’ Jerek agreed. ‘But that don’t help you much, does it?’
‘Just lead the girl and Isaac to safety and forget about me.’
‘Don’t start with that shit.’
‘You saved my life once already. I reckon your debt’s just about paid.’
Jerek’s face grew dark. ‘It’s paid when I say it’s paid. I ain’t leaving you to die. You want some noble death so maidens can get themselves wet thinking about your heroic sacrifice? Shove it up your arse, Kayne.’ The Wolf spurred his mount and the horse pulled away, taking him out of earshot.
Shit. Jerek was about as stubborn as he was, which meant his hastily formulated plan was dead in the water. Shortly to be followed by us, I reckon. He could see the edge of Deadman’s Channel now, the water glittering orange in the dying light.
His horse shuddered again. He patted the mare on the neck and his hand came away covered in lather. The beast reared suddenly, and before he knew it he was flying from the saddle as the animal stumbled to its knees.
He hit the ground with an impact that forced the air from his lungs. The pain was excruciating. He gasped, rolled three or four times down the slope before coming to a halt against a jutting slab of rock. He lay there in agony, listening to the pathetic sounds of his horse expiring nearby.
Somehow he rolled over and managed to lift his head. Jerek and Isaac had ridden on for a few hundred yards, oblivious to his misfortune. The Wolf must have noticed his absence then, as he swung his gelding around and thundered back towards him.
Kayne pushed himself up from the ground as Jerek drew near. He could see their pursuers closing on them with alarming pace.
‘Grab my hand,’ the Wolf snarled as he brought his horse around. Kayne reached out, grasped the scarred hand of the grim Highlander and pulled himself up behind him.
The Wolf kicked down hard, sending the animal beneath them galloping ahead at full tilt, every strike of every hoof against the hard ground igniting fresh spasms of pain throughout Kayne’s body.
Isaac had slowed. They caught up with him just as they approached the edge of Deadman’s Channel. The manservant shouted something and pointed down to the water. Kayne shielded his eyes from the sun and tried to make out what Isaac was gesturing at.
It was a small caravel. The ship was anchored barely fifty feet from the shoreline. He could make out a handful of figures watching their approach from the railing. Shit. Had another force been sent to intercept them?
As they grew nearer, however, he realized this vessel was not from Dorminia. The flag that flew from the mainmast displayed a circle of stars on a white background. Inside the circle a woman’s outstretched palm supported a cluster of towers. Kayne didn’t know much of the land south of Dorminia and its hinterland, but he was reasonably certain this was a Thelassan ship.
Several of the figures aboard the vessel had lowered themselves onto a tiny boat and were paddling towards them. He squinted. The man at the bow wore dark robes of some kind, but his hood was thrown back to reveal skin as black as the night. Behind him-
Sasha gasped. ‘It can’t be…’
The dinghy reached the shallows and the young man in the middle of the boat vaulted out and splashed towards them. That swagger, that ridiculous beard, the cocksure smile: they were unmistakable.