Bones was busy taking fingers from the men he'd just killed and storing the bloody digits in a little pouch until he was ready to clean the flesh from the bones to add to his collection. Swift was looting the corpses. Green was measuring boot sizes from the men they'd killed trying to find a good match for his own feet and Henry was staring at one of the two horses that hadn't run off. It was a dull-eyed creature that stared right back at her, trusting despite her having just slit its owner from navel to neck.
Betrim stood next to the Boss and joined him in his staring. A good staring was sometimes as enjoyable as a good leaning. “Knew it were comin'.”
“Aye,” the Boss said in a resigned voice. “Wish it'd waited another week or so though. Bloody bad luck I reckon.”
Two days out of Bischin and they'd run straight into the great herd. Beasts as far as the eyes could see in front and to the side of them. Thousands upon thousands of them, some people gave that amount a name, a word. Weren't no words to describe the number of creatures in front of them as far as Betrim was concerned.
Some of the animals were huge hulking things with short fur and big horns that honked to each other as they stripped the land bare of grass. Loud cracks echoed around as two of the big males butted heads, maybe for food, maybe for mates. Smaller deer-like creatures bounced around as well. Always alert, ever watchful for any sign of danger, their heads moved with sudden jerking motions that reminded Betrim of a bird. There were the tall beasts as well, the spotted ones with long necks, long tongues and funny little horns on top of their heads. Then there were the elephants; huge, grey monstrosities with big ears and long snout-like noses that coiled around the grass and lifted it to their mouths. The males had dangerous tusks that could skewer a man armour or no. Only the Boss wasn't afraid of the elephants and Betrim thought he knew why. He'd heard it said the black skins of the far south tamed and rode the monsters. Betrim was pretty sure he didn't have the stones to get close enough to touch one let alone ride one but then the Boss had the biggest stones of anyone Betrim knew.
“At least we won't be going hungry tonight,” the Boss said with a sigh.
“We gonna have a fire? Wouldn't mind cookin' my meat.”
“Aye. Might as well. Don't reckon anyone else is gonna be comin' at us from Bischin an' nobody comin' at us from the herd side o' things.”
“I wanna ride.” Betrim and the Boss both turned to find Henry standing next to the horse. She poked its nose with a thin, bony finger and the horse nuzzled her hand. She turned to look at them with a smile. “Reckon it likes me.”
“Do ya even know how ta ride one of those things?” the Boss asked.
“How hard can it be? You jus' sit on the thing, kick it a bit, an' it goes.”
“That sounds more like you,” Betrim said. The Boss laughed and Henry narrowed her eyes at him.
“No horses, Henry. Get rid of it.” It was an order from the Boss and not even Henry would refuse an order.
“Fine, fine.” One of Henry's daggers whipped out and bit deep into the horse's neck. She danced backwards with a laugh as the beast collapsed, thrashing and spraying blood everywhere.
“What the fuck?” Bones shouted, springing to his feet as a spray of blood hit him full in the face.
“I told ya ta get rid of it, not kill the fuckin' thing, Henry,” the Boss shouted.
“It's got rid of. What's the difference,” she replied with a shrug.
The Boss shook his head. “Swift, get ta cutting some meat off that thing. We'll move off a ways an' start a fire an' you can all thank Henry fer the horseflesh tonight.”
Green and Swift groaned. Betrim shrugged. Meat was meat after all.
They all sat around the small camp fire, all except Henry who had pulled the first watch. She prowled around the camp quiet as a ghost, watching and listening for any danger. It wasn't just people they had to look out for; wild animals were a threat too. Along with the grass eaters of the great herd came the meat eaters. Predators and scavengers followed in great numbers.
Just before sun down Betrim had seen some of the big cats that stalked the plains. A whole group of them, looked to be near fifteen, had been lounging underneath the shade of a corpse tree. The trees were said to grow wherever a corpse had been buried and provided much needed shelter from the midday sun for many.
He could also hear the haunting sounds of the laughing dogs. An unnerving noise for anyone and a death sentence for everyone alone on the plains. Those dogs could smell you from miles away and would chase and hound a man till death. Snapping at his heels as he ran, trying to hamstring him and then darting away, always just out of reach of retribution.
Carrok birds were always a danger even when the great herd wasn't passing. Huge winged creatures as big as a man with three time as great a wingspan and razor sharp talons and beaks that could puncture steel. They tended to prefer smaller prey but it wasn't unknown for a pair of them to attack travellers. Diving from high up in the sky, attacking from the air and then speeding away to wait and let their prey die from the wounds. Betrim was always wary when fast shadows passed over him.
There were the giant lizards too. Some called them dragons, or dragonspawn but Betrim knew better. They weren't dragons just big lizards with dangerous turns of speed and a poisonous bite that could kill a man in hours. They didn't need to fear the lizards here though, the beasts didn't venture onto the plains, preferred the rocky areas not the grass.
For now though there was the warmth of the fire and all the horse meat he could eat and cheap spirits to burn his throat. Some of the others watched every time Betrim took a swig from the bottle but he'd be damned if they were getting any.
“How'd ya do it?” His near constant shadow, Green, asked.
The boy had chosen to sit next to Betrim and kept glancing his way. It was all Betrim could do not to shove a knife in the lad's neck. Still, the moon and stars tended to put the Black Thorn in a mellow mood. Something about the way the specks of light twinkled, he reckoned. It was pretty.
“Do what?” Betrim growled out the corner of his mouth as he tore off a strip of meat with his teeth.
“How'd ya kill 'em? The Arbiters.”
Swift groaned from the other side of the fire. “He's been wantin' ta ask ya that ever since he found out who ya are, Thorn. I reckon the boy's a bit taken wit' ya.”
“Which one?” Betrim asked.
“The first one,” the Boss said. He knew all the stories, had asked about them himself back when Betrim agreed to join this little group of sell-swords.
Green was nodding. Swift was getting comfortable on the ground, trying to find a non-lumpy spot. Bones had finished eating and was busy cleaning the flesh off of his new bones but he was watching Betrim all the same. The big man had never heard the details either, had never asked. Neither had Swift truth be told; only the Boss and Henry knew the details and even then they only knew the truth so far as Betrim had told it.
“First one turned up at my family's ranch jus' days aft' I buried my parents. Arbiter Colm he called himself.” Betrim fixed Green with a cold stare. “Ya never forget ya first time. He was there ta look about my parent's death. Seems he thought they died of unnatural circumstances.”
“Did they?” Green asked.
“Well seeing as how I stabbed 'em both myself. Aye.”
“You killed ya own parents?” Green asked. “Why?”
“We had a disagreement 'bout a chicken.” Betrim watched as Green's face went slack. It was always fun telling folk that, they were never sure whether he was shitting them or not. “Arbiter Colm, he started askin' all the other folk on the ranch a load of questions 'bout my parents. How my da' had come by the ranch, was my ma' ever right with her future tellins. Ever been asked a question by an Arbiter, Green?”
“No.”
“Ya can't lie. Ya can try as much as ya want. Try ta shit 'em. Try not ta say a thing. Don't make a difference. Ya can't lie ta an Arbiter. They force the truth out o' ya.” Betrim said as he watched Bones flick the last bit of human flesh from his knife into the camp fire and take out his brown rag to start cleaning his bones.
“Thing is though, even Arbiters need ta sleep sometimes. Not often maybe but sometimes. So I hid. Watched. Waited. Saw him question all the other folk on the ranch, heard every single one of 'em tell the Arbiter I was the killer. None of 'em knew where I was though, hidden up in the rafters of the main house, scurryin' around the walls like a rat. Not even the Arbiter knew I was there, thought I'd run off, he did.
“So there I waited until the Arbiter closed his eyes, locked the room. Old house like that some of the boards in the roof jus' come right up an' I was still a boy, jus' fourteen years ta my name. I slid through the gap in the roof an' into the Arbiter's room. Quiet as a ghost. Quiet as Henry sneakin' up behind you jus' now.”
Green craned his neck around to find Henry staring down at him. Spiky hair standing up at all angles. Bright flames dancing in the reflection of her dark eyes. Such a sight was enough to make even Betrim shiver.
“Swift. Get ya arse up,” Henry said walking over to the Boss and taking a seat. “Your watch.”
“Oh fuck me, Henry.”
“Not a chance.”
“I was jus' about asleep there listenin' ta that,” Swift said grinning towards Betrim and walking out of the circle of fire light. “Ya sure have led a dull life, Black Thorn.”
“What happened?” Green asked, back to staring at Betrim with big, round eyes.
“Huh?”
“With the Arbiter.”
“Oh right. I slit his throat in his sleep. Well, more like stabbed him in the neck a few times. I was new ta killin' folk back then, wasn't overly sure how it worked. Still, result was the same. Bled ta death pretty quick.”
“Ya didn't fight him?”
Betrim laughed at that. A hard, rasping sound to be sure but the boy's question was as funny as anything he'd heard for some time. “Fight him? Fight an Arbiter? Listen up, Green. I've killed six of the fuckers an' only one of 'em did I fight. Gave me this.” Betrim shoved the left side of his face towards Green, the burned side. Pitted, melted flesh. As ugly a scar as Betrim had ever seen and the reason he didn't keep a mirror. Not that he was too pretty before the burn.
“I got off easy. Ever heard of a town called Lanswitch in the Bore province?”
Green swallowed. “No.”
“Cos it don't exist no more. Burned to the ground durin' our fight. I got the blame for all of that too. A hundred folk died in that fire; men, women an' kids an' it all got pegged on me.
“Ya wanna kill an Arbiter do it in their sleep. Fill 'em with arrows before they spot ya. Walk past 'em in the street an' get all stabby. Jus' don't let 'em see ya coming cos if they do... ya fucked.”
Silence seemed to hold for a long time. Only the crackle and pop of the fire, the low hissing of the wind and the honking from the nearby great herd sounded in the void. Bones spat into his rag. “That's why I never asked.”
The Arbiter
Even in the near total darkness the Inquisition compound was busy. Servants going to and fro with messages or food stuffs. A few Arbiters coming or going but at this time most were tucked away in their bunks. Sometimes an Inquisitor might be seen; they lived outside of the compound in large expensive houses. They had '
earned'
that right through years of faithful service, so travelled each day to and from their homes.
He sat on the cold stone steps outside the barracks, smoking. Smoking casher weed was common practice among many around the world but in most places it was smoked in a pipe. Here in Sarth it was possible to purchase the expensive weed rolled in small slips of paper. A rare and costly pass time but Thanquil only visited Sarth once every three years and he couldn't stand smoking out of a pipe. The effect of the weed left him a little light headed but didn't impair him in any way.
It was a couple of hours before dawn; he'd have to make his way to the docks soon. If he missed the boat to the wilds the Inquisitors would not be pleased and the last thing Thanquil needed was the displeasure of the twelve most powerful people in the Inquisition. Besides, he could still remember the feel of the Grand Inquisitor's compulsion. He could still remember how strong the old man was. The mere thought of it sent chills down his spine and Thanquil sucked in another lungful of smoke.
“Early morning, Arbiter.” Thanquil looked up to see Arbiter Vance approaching. He was starting to think the young man was following him.
“Late night. Didn't feel much like sleeping.”
Vance grunted and sat down next to Thanquil as if they were old friends having a pleasant chat. Nothing could be further from the truth as far as Thanquil was concerned. Hard to tell the son of the Grand Inquisitor to '
piss off
' without causing offence though so Thanquil just sat in awkward silence.
“I hear you're going to the wilds,” Arbiter Vance said into the warm darkness.
“I hear you have the sight so why don't you tell me where I'm going.”
Thanquil saw Vance smile out of the corner of his eye and conspired to '
accidentally
' blow smoke in his direction. It failed. A gust of wind picked up at just the wrong moment and spoiled his moment of petty victory.
“I don't look into people's futures unless they ask me to,” the young Arbiter said in a soft voice. “It could be considered... rude.”
“I give you my permission.” The future was always a gamble; any way to stack the odds in Thanquil's favour seemed worth it to him.
“Nothing,” Arbiter Vance answered far too fast. “I see nothing.”
“How useful your gift is.” Thanquil decided he'd had enough of the young Arbiter and he had a boat to catch. “Goodbye, Arbiter Vance.”
“Be careful, Arbiter Darkheart.” Thanquil turned and Arbiter Vance seemed to be staring through him with those unnerving yellow eyes. “Sometimes an enemy can be friend.”
Now the boy considered them friends? Thanquil would almost have preferred them to be enemies; at least he knew where he stood with enemies. With a sigh and a shake of his head Thanquil walked away, leaving Arbiter Vance sitting on the steps.
