Even Rose cocked his head, trying to locate the new person addressing him, and then said, “That’s a boy. Unless you done started doing things real different over there in the Empire, none of your witches got cocks. What does this plaguing boy know about it?”
Braylar didn’t look away from me as he replied, “That is an excellent question. Which I will ascertain the answer to another time.” He looked back to the Hornmen. “But for now, the only thing that concerns you is the very immediate future.”
Rose looked ready to spit again, then thought better of it. “What of it, you prick? Can’t imagine it’s any better than what you gave the boys at the watchtower.”
“I have spared your lives, but can snatch them away just as quickly. I do not expect gratitude, but a little humility and politeness is in order, even feigned. You might have a future yet, if you can manage to still your prideful tongue and do as you’re told. Do you think you can manage that, Hornman?”
Rose didn’t look like he could manage that at all, but after a long pause, he unlocked his jaw. “You best not be speaking about me only. What happens to me happens to the rest of my boys here. Good or ill.”
Braylar smiled an unpleasant smile, though the chilling effect was lost on the man in front of him. “Their well-being is in your hands, blind man. Do not test me.”
Rose stared ahead, lips pulled tight, veins bulging in his temples.
Braylar continued, “As it happens, you are not the only party that is pursuing me just now. So-”
“Ain’t surprised at that. Only thing that’s surprising at all is it ain’t more of us-”
The crossbow bolt in the throat stopped him short. The Hornman reached up to grab it, spitting blood all over his chin, sightless eyes darting in all directions, and then he dropped to his knees and then fell over on his side. Most of the other Hornmen stepped back in horror. Only the other man in a byrnie crept forward, kneeling alongside Rose, reaching out tentatively to steady the dying man as his body jerked in the grass.
Braylar spanned his crossbow again as he said, “Now then, for those in attendance who might not be able to tell from the gurgling noise you heard just now, your lippy self-proclaimed leader is bleeding his last at your feet. I have no wish to kill unarmed blind men-it is hardly sporting, and brings me no pleasure-but we are running out of time. You there, the only other Hornman in mail. Stand.”
The Hornman did so, slowly, his palms out in front of him as if expecting a crossbow quarrel to rip into him at any moment.
“What is your name, Hornman?”
The man reluctantly stuttered out, “Crowder.”
“Very good, Crowder. And do you think you can be a good soldier, follow orders, and not get yourself or any in your small band killed? Because I tell you now, I am out of patience, but not bolts. So if you cannot manage this task, we are done playing choose the leader. You all die now.”
Crowder looked down as he heard Rose wheeze his last, cough, sputter, and die.
“Hornman!” Braylar yelled.
The man snapped his head back up.
“I will not ask again. Can you follow orders and save what remains of your sorry troop here?”
Crowder nodded slowly, still tensed, and then belatedly added, “Aye. Yes. Yes, tell us what you want of us.”
After hearing no further retorts, Braylar continued, “Very good. A sensible man at last. Now then, heed me closely. Baron Brune’s men are on the road behind us, led by a gruff man named Captain Gurdinn. They will likely be here in half a day, possibly less. When they come across your stumbling crew, you will convey a simple message. Something of a warning, really. Following me so far?”
Crowder nodded fast, several times.
“Good. You will tell them, as your condition bears out, that we destroyed a full company of Hornmen after our resident war Memoridon blinded near on sixty men, including your sad crew. Let the Brunesmen know we only allowed you to live to provide evidence of this. If they choose to pursue us, we will have ample time and opportunity to cripple their much smaller party, and you can be sure I will not be so charitable in leaving prisoners a second time.”
Crowder made sure nothing more was forthcoming before asking, “Is that it, then?”
Braylar started to nod and stopped himself. “That’s it. Stay on this road and deliver this warning as instructed, and you and your men live. Even a group of blind men can manage this, I am thinking.”
Crowder was staring at the grass in the distance between them, nodded quickly, and then added, reluctantly, “And after?”
“After?” Braylar asked. “Well, Gurdinn is no monster. I assume he will take you in, or see you provided for. But even if he leaves you at the roadside, you will be alive. And that is surely finer than the alternative, yes?”
He didn’t wait for an answer and called out to another Syldoon. “See to it they have some food and water. And give them their weapons. I am a hard man, but not cruel top to bottom.”
Riding alongside the wagon, Mulldoos muttered, “Waste of decent steel. Better to give them some walking sticks.”
Braylar leaned back on the bench next to me and said, “Now, Mulldoos, I did give my word.”
“Also shot one in the face.”
“It was the throat. And I warned him, did I not?”
“You should have shot them all in the face, you ask me. They’ll probably run for the woods the second we’re out of sight.”
“In a manner of speaking,” I said and then regretted my joke immediately.
Braylar laughed. “Delightful. But I am thinking this Crowder is too cowed to disobey, even after we ride off. He will deliver the message.”
Mulldoos shook his head as our procession rolled on, leaving the stunned Hornmen on the side of the road-it was difficult to tell if they were more relieved to be alive, or terrified of being stranded without sight in the middle of nowhere. “You wanted to leave one to warn Brune’s bastards, one would have done it. All I’m saying. No need to leave a handful of them. And their weapons? What the hells will they do with those besides cut themselves up? Probably hurt themselves with spoons right now.”
Braylar laughed. “A single blind man signifies nothing. Eight-”
“Seven,” I amended.
“Seven blind men make for a more compelling warning. Much harder to ignore. And as to their weapons, well, if brigands happen along, at least the sightless Hornmen can kill themselves first.”
Mulldoos shook his head again. “Got a right peculiar sense of fair play, Cap. Right peculiar.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Mulldoos turned and rode back to either join the men or check on something, leaving the captain and me alone again. For once, I was actually sorry to see Mulldoos leave.
Braylar didn’t look my way or say anything, but the silence was filled with palpable unease, though it was hard to tell if it was more on my part or the captain’s. He hadn’t struck down anyone else with Bloodsounder-I don’t think the Syldoon had even raised a melee weapon, except to use the flats of their blades to beat down a few blind prisoners-but his disquieting quiet was almost worse than an energetic rebuking.
“Are you-”
“If you say ‘well,’ I will throw you off the wagon and leave you to shepherd the blind bastards behind us.”
Well. That was at least familiar.
I tried a different tack. “I was wondering something.”
“Of course you were.”
“I don’t generally find myself agreeing with Mulldoos, but I am curious why you left any of the Hornmen back there.”
We passed a dead horse and some blood stains in the grass on our left. “I’m rather surprised at you, Arki, exceptionally tender soul that you are. I imagined you would have been thrilled.”
“I’m glad you spared them. Well, most of them anyway.”