Page 116 of Untempered
I remembered how I’d blamed her.
Wrong?
No.
Kind?
…No.
I scrubbed my hand over my face and tried to focus on the group of us, assembling quietly and without fanfare in the bailey. Everyone knew what was happening and why. A few bits of information were murmured. How the swordsmen would ring around the cart, how they’d move depending on what angle we were rushed from, where they’d fall back to if it was needed. I was greeted with raised hands and nods.
All I had to do was stick my neck out to save theirs when they had no other options, and they’d treat me like an equal.
We moved out, a loose ring around the three supply carts. We weren’t transporting anyone who was unwell, turning back those who came into the streets, for now. Audrey would’ve hated that. And she’d hate it later when I told her of it.
For today, we just had to keep the tourney grounds supplied, so there wasn’t an immediate issue. Then they had to figure out how and where to relocate it so we didn’t need to pull this stunt again.
The heavy clouds darkened the streets, so it felt more like dusk than midday as we rumbled along, a big, noisy, slow-moving target. Bliksem pranced a little, sensing the unease as we rolled closer to the ambush location. I didn’t even know what the street names were, but I didn’t need to, so openly did they all show their tension.
Due to the quality of my armor and the distance Bliksem would defend, I was taking the lead. The true leader was halfway down the wagon’s length.
They were happy enough with me being bait, and I was happy enough not to rely on any of them at my back.
I was thinking like a local now.
It said something about how grim our straits were that I found humor in the thought. As soon as I saw movement on the road ahead of me, I hefted my shield and called, “Come on out, we’ve got you surrounded.” The amusement that still laced my words was an unintended but nice touch, and I was pleased with it.
An arrow whistled past my head, and my mouth went dry. My shield snapped up. I heard shouts from behind. Shock, anger, and pain.Archers.
Time slowed. I saw the situation in an instant. The group of us surrounding the cart in the center of the crossroads. Exposed. Able to defend from an attack from the ground by using the cart as a bulwark. Almost helpless against archers because I was surrounded by peerless swordsmen and exemplary pikemen. There wasn’t a loaded crossbow in sight.
“Do you?” the man on the road called. “Do you really, Butcher’s dog?”
I barely heard him. We had to flee or flush them out of the surrounding houses. Flushing them out was too risky. We’d be pinned down and picked off. We’d charge into houses without knowing where they were. We’d be separated, easy prey.
An arrow sped past, and Bliksem stomped furiously. Movement caught my eye. The man who’d stood in the road ahead of me clawed his throat, staring at me in shock. An arrow was in his throat. He held it, his eyes huge, as one knee went out, pitching him forward at an odd angle.
My heart did a slow roll.It couldn’t be.None of us had bows. Had they accidentally shot their friend?
With my eyes, I traced the approximate path of the last arrow to fly past me to its starting point. A man hung partially out of a window; the top half of his body crumpled over like a long stalk of grass in the summer. He swayed, twitching. Behind me, from the guard, there was a heavy moment of silence.
Audrey?
Surely, it couldn’t be. But if it was—and without Isolde to watch her back…
“I did say you’re surrounded,” I called into the rain, flicking my shield back over my shoulder to better drive home my bluff. If Audrey was out there, in those houses with these folks, infected with the One only knew what this plague was…
I had bigger problems than a stray, inexpertly carved arrow.
“If I have your attention,” I called into the shadow-filled crannies, hoping my voice would carry behind the twitching curtains in unshuttered windows, “I’ve a message from lady Audrey.” I hope she didn’t mind me putting words in her mouth. “She’d like to know who needs aid. Because these supplies are for sick folks. She’s looking after us all. But I’ve got orders to protect this here caravan. So, your choice. Ask and receive, or fight and die.”
An arrow whistled through the air and clattered harmlessly on the stone at my feet. “Death to the Butcher’s Brat!” someone shouted from the shadows.
Three guardsmen, their shields locked together, closed in on that nook. A skinny man was pulled out, dripping, his homemade bow broken in his hand, his lip bleeding. He was tossed at my feet. Bliksem stomped his disapproval twice as my heart drummed in my head.The Butcher’s Brat. It had a ring to it. I thought of her, out there in the rain, freezing, getting sicker by the minute for these people. She’dbetterbe in her tower beneath disorganized piles of parchment.
With violence in my heart, I dismounted and leaned over the asshole who’d called her brat. His eyes were round with terror, but his lips were sealed tight.
He wasn’t going to say it again. But he wasn’t going to apologize, either.
