"Stranger, my captain gave us that same story to use thirty years ago. Either it's come back into use or it's never gone away, but in any case I know it too well to believe it for a single breath."
Devlin never said a word, just looked at him.
The man straightened up and stopped laughing. "I don't know your names, lads, and I don't want to. Only thing I need to know is—
Then he started talking nonsense, least it sounded like that to me. None of the words made sense. I near fell over when Devlin answered him in the same language.
I hadn't used mere—mercenary cant—for many years, but these things never really leave you.
"Right, you. Are you what you seem or just an upstart wanting to make a dirty living? Can you understand me?"
"Of course I can, granddad," the leader answered. His accent was strange, and he was surprised to say the least. "Never thought to find a brother here."
"I'm not your grandsire nor no more your brother than that youngster is your son, and don't you think otherwise. I left your life a long time since and I've no mind to rejoin it. What are you doing here, and what do you want?"
"A mark."
I instantly slipped into the darker tongue of the assassins. "You don't have the look of this about you, but if you know what I am saying you are bound by blood to answer. Are you here for death or for taking?"
"What in the hells did you just say? That wasn't cant," the man responded in mere, angry. Well, that was a blessing in any case. He didn't look bright enough to lie that well.
"Very well," I said, speaking in common again for the younger lad's benefit. 'This is fair warning. I know who you are. I don't know why you're here but I can guess. Know that I have lived your life, and a darker one yet than that, and you do not frighten me. Go now, tell your buyer you couldn't find what he sought. Come back here, by sun or moon, and I will not waste time in speech. If I see either of you again I will assume that you mean death or harm to me and mine and I will kill you the first chance I get. Be warned. Next time I will not stop to speak."
The older one nodded ever so slighdy and I knew he believed me. "I give you leave to go, right now," I said. "Once you are out of my sight don't come back."
I couldn't believe Devlin was just taking this. Here was this skinny old man, no sword on him, not even a knife, and he was threatening Devlin and me both. I'd seen Devlin kill a man, right in front of my eyes, for a lot less, and here he was backing down.
"You don't scare me, old man," I cried, standing up to him. Small as I was, he was only a little taller. "Talk never won a fight! You're old and slow, you'd best watch your back or some dark ni—"
I had to stop speaking. I didn't want to, I had a few good insults I'd thought up, but when a man has a knife to your throat and your arms pinned to your sides, there's not a lot to say. Damn, I'd have sworn he was unarmed.
"He's not worth it," says Devlin, calm as can be. "Hells, he's green and stupid, but don't take it out on him."
"I'm not in the habit of slaughtering idiots," says the old man. He put away his knife and turned me around to look at him, still holding my arms pinned. He was lot stronger than he looked.
He looks deep into my eyes and shakes his head, real slow. "You're brave enough, lad, but you're cocky and you're slow. Get out of this business now, while you can. There are other ways to get through life and almost all of them will see you living a lot longer than this one. You're not made for it."
He threw me towards Devlin, who caught me before I fell on the cold ground. "Warning taken, master," said Devlin. "But I'm nor green nor foolish. And I've been paid."
"Hells help you then," says the man. "You've been told." He turned on his heel at that and went back through the big double doors and closed them behind him.
Devlin pulled me away with him, swearing. When we were out of earshot, I had to ask. Just casual, as we were walking back to the others.
"What was that you two were saying?"
"It's mere's cant," says Devlin. "Shows we're both mercenaries with some years of fighting and a measure of blood behind us. I'm not sure what that other noise he was making was, but I've a feeling it was rather worse than better."
We walked in silence a few moments more. "You're not afraid of him, are you?" I said.
Devlin just kept walking. "Yes, I damn well am. He's faster than I am, and I'd wager he knows everything I know and more as well. Even without the cant I was worried. He's sharp. Like a knife he's sharp."
"So what are we going to do?"
Devlin sighed. "We are not going to do anything. I'm going back to the others, and you're going to get on your horse and go home."
"What!" I cried. "You can't believe that old man, he was just lucky, I wouldn't—"
And for me second time in half an hour I was held helpless. Devlin wasn't as strong or as quick, but he managed all the same. "If I can do you, lad, that other one would have your heart on a stick before you knew you were dead. I've thought it before. He's right, you're just too slow. Go home. Find a girl, work on a farm, join the King's Men somewhere, find any sort of life you want but get out of this one. You're not right for it."
And what really scared me was that Devlin wasn't angry. He talked like he was talking about the weather. "I'll do what I please, it's my life!" I cried, struggling.
He let me go and kept walking. "So it is. Please yourself, Callum. But when you're dying in some ditch before me year's out—or maybe the week—remember I warned you. So now your dying curse can't touch me." He brushed his hands one against the other. "I'll not say word more, I've done what I could. The rest be on your own back."
I shook myself and walked alongside him. I was mad: at myself, at Devlin, at that scary old man. I wasn't about to give up. But even then I wasn't completely stupid, and in the hidden part of me that admitted to fear I started to wonder if maybe there was something in what they said.
When we joined the others we drew back to that little bit of woodland we'd left the night before—it gave at least some shelter and there was enough wood to burn without spending every second looking for more. Our cook started up a good fire and put some potatoes by to bake in the foot of it, then made up a broth from the last of the meat we'd bought at the market some days since and a handful or so of barley. It wasn't much, but it was food and it was hot and that's all that mattered.
Ross and Devlin called us all together in the twilight of that early winter's night. We all sat as near the fire as we could. I was shivering something awful despite the food and regretting the mild southern winter we'd left behind when Devlin started talking.
"Right, lads. We're up against worse than we thought. I never saw the woman, but I'd swear my life she's there. Problem is, she's got a lot of help. The man we met, whoever he is, has been a mere, and he's told us straight he'll kill us if he sees us again. You all need to know that." He described the man so we'd all know him on sight.
"If you think I've come this far and been this cold just to walk away now, you're daft," says Ross.
Devlin smiled. "Aye, so I thought, but you had to know. And make no mistake, he surely will kill us quick enough if he sees us. So we can't let him see us. We move tonight. And he's been a mere, knew our story off pat, so he'll also know all the standard distractions and ignore them. So no cries for help in the middle of the night, no stray saddled horse come rattling into their courtyard, no howling wolves too close to the house. I need some fresh ideas and I need 'em fast."