The brute strode towards her, his silhouette blotting out the light of the moon. As he reached out with a huge hand Kaira struck. Her sword hand might have been injured but her left was as strong as ever. And one hand was all she would need.
Before he could reach her throat Kaira grasped that big hand, twisting it at the wrist. She forced the bull of a man to his knees and he grunted, his other hand coming up to grab her. A sharp twist made him grunt again and think better of it. He could only grasp at his wrist as it teetered on the brink of snapping.
Friedrik’s remaining henchmen made their move, attacking with little style or skill. Leofric swatted the club from one man’s hand with a deft swipe of his sword. Oswil parried a stabbing knife and struck out with his pommel, breaking his opponent’s nose and sending him sprawling. The one that remained, a fat man who looked like someone had already given him a beating recently, dropped his knife and held up his hands in surrender.
‘What now?’ Friedrik asked, seeming more amused than perturbed at the easy besting of his men. ‘Are we all to be slaughtered?’ The prospect didn’t seem to bother him one bit.
‘You will come with me,’ she said.
‘Will I?’ Friedrik replied.
Leofric took a step forward, the flat of his sword connecting firmly with the back of Friedrik’s head. He was driven to his knees, his hands coming up to that mop of curly hair. Kaira expected him to moan, or at least to beg, but when he looked up she saw he had a smile on his face.
‘Looks like I will,’ he said, giggling, though Kaira couldn’t see the joke.
She glanced at the rest of his henchmen. They seemed a sorry collection. For a man like Friedrik, a man in charge of most of the illicit business in the city, they were a wholly inadequate bodyguard.
‘The rest of you can run or die. The choice is yours,’ she said, still holding onto the big man’s wrist. If any of them were going to offer any trouble it would be him, so better the rest were gone before he was allowed the chance to get up.
Without a second thought for their leader, the three thugs fled down the alley. Kaira looked at the one on his knees.
‘What about you?’
He gazed at her for a while, assessing his chances, before giving the smallest of nods.
Kaira released his wrist. He slowly rose to his feet until he towered over her. Kaira half expected him to launch himself forward, throwing his life away for one last chance to rescue his master. Instead, he walked after his fellows, down into the shadows of the alleyway, with not so much as a second glance at Friedrik.
So much for loyalty among thieves.
‘Shall we?’ Kaira asked.
Friedrik climbed unsteadily to his feet. ‘I suppose we shall,’ he replied.
Leofric and Oswil took Friedrik by the arms and marched him on into the dark. As Kaira followed behind, Rag appeared at her side. As soon as Kaira had confronted the group the girl had disappeared. Kaira admired her skill for concealment — she guessed it came in handy in her line of work.
‘There’s no reason for you to follow anymore, Rag. I think your work is done.’
‘Where am I going to go?’ the girl replied. ‘I’ve started this now, may as well see it through.’
‘If you come with us what you see might not be pretty.’
‘You think it’ll be any worse than the shit I’ve seen already?’
Kaira guessed it wouldn’t be, though how ugly things would get was yet to be seen. Much of that depended on Friedrik.
It was near dawn when they got back to the barracks. The place was all but deserted as they conveyed him to the cells. Kaira could have handed him over to the Greencoats, but she had learned enough to know they could not be trusted, not with a man as important as this. If word spread that they held one of the masters of the Guild he would be dead or fled within the day. Better that she kept her hands on him for the time being.
Why there were cells in the barracks of the Skyhelm Sentinels Kaira had no idea. Perhaps because of some age old tradition that military or political prisoners be kept there. Perhaps because of something more sinister. Whatever the reason, Kaira was thankful for it.
Friedrik was sat in a chair, his hands bound behind him. Leofric and Oswil stood outside the door and Kaira was grateful for their discretion. For a fleeting moment she had considered waking Captain Garret. He should, after all, be informed of what type of guest had arrived, but Kaira wanted some time alone with Friedrik first. She’d been hunting this man for a long while. Had failed in her task to find him once. It was one of the reasons she had turned her back on the Temple of Autumn. She was curious to know the man responsible for much of the suffering in this city.
As she stared at him, Kaira wondered what to say. What could she say? She had never interrogated anyone before. Kaira Stormfall was a warrior, a protector. She was no inquisitor.
‘Is this where the torture begins?’ Friedrik asked.
Kaira turned, opening her mouth, wanting to tell him to be silent, but she could find no words.
Was it where the torture would begin? Was this where she would beat him? Cut him? Slice off his extremities?
That is not you. That has never been your way. It’s not likely you will start now.
‘I will ask you some questions,’ she replied.
‘Questions?’ he said, his lips turning up into a smile. ‘How utterly tedious. Surely it’s time to send in the boys, let the fun begin?’
What was wrong with this man? He couldn’t really relish the thought of being tortured … unless of course it was all bravado.
‘Where is the Guild based?’ said Kaira. ‘From where do you organise this city’s criminals?’
Friedrik laughed. ‘Really? That’s all you can come up with? Some dull question you know I’ll never answer? Do be serious, dear, and stop wasting my time.’
‘I will have an answer to my question,’ she said, standing before him, holding him in a steel gaze. A gaze she had used on the battlefield, a gaze that had made veteran warriors crumble.
Friedrik just smiled again. ‘Am I meant to be intimidated? By a woman? Is this some kind of joke? I’m guessing a real interrogator will be here in a minute to put me to the question, while you go off and fetch the tea. That’s it, isn’t it?’
Kaira’s fists clenched, her teeth grinding together. She had bloodied men for less.
‘Where? Tell me or I swear by Vorena I’ll-’
‘You’ll what? You’ll pull out my fingernails? You’ll cut out my eyes? Then get the fuck on with it, because listening to you going on, girl, is giving me a stinking fucking headache.’
She hit him, hard in the gut, without thinking. Her wrist suddenly blazed in pain as she felt the stitches pull tight. Kaira gritted her teeth against it, not wanting to show any weakness in front of this man, but she needn’t have bothered. Friedrik was doubled over, gasping for air. But as she took a step back and as he laboured for breath, he slowly looked up, eyes wide, revealing a glint of the insane as he forced his mouth into a grimace.
‘You’ll have to do better than that,’ Friedrik said, his face reddening with every strained word. ‘Much fucking better.’
Kaira knew she’d never be able to do better. The man was helpless — insane but helpless — and it was not in her to make a man suffer if he could not fight back. Even a man such as this, a man who would see hundreds sent into slavery just to line his own pocket.
She turned for the door, hearing him laugh as she opened it. Once she had slammed it closed behind her, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. Just being near Friedrik seemed to infect her; he was poison, a canker on her and this city. She raised a hand to her brow and felt a sheen of cooling sweat there.
‘You all right?’ asked Leofric, who was standing guard nearby.
Kaira nodded, then spotted Rag crouched down in the passageway. Kaira suddenly felt the bite of shame. This girl, this child, had been at Friedrik’s side for weeks, months maybe. How had she managed to live with such a man? For a moment Kaira began to appreciate the girl’s bravery.