Mindless

Chapter 16 Sihya

Vahela gestures—it's a small motion, as simple as flicking away a flying pest, but the twins both start forward in its wake. The men watch them warily. Fahlan grasps the hilt of the sword strapped to his side and steps forward.

"Don't be foolish," he warns. "Come along and you will face a fair trial."

"We will not be going to trial," the queen answers calmly.

Sihya reaches behind herself and grips the handle of the dagger sown into the back of her dress. Across the table, Jonah is faster. Dagger in hand, he feints towards Fahlan, drawing the captain forward and partially to his side. Sihya leaps. Fahlan sees her movement in his peripheral and turns to stop her—but he's a step away and Sihya dodges his grasp easily. They are not the fighters the captain is, but they are small and quick.

Haëgre does nothing to stop her. He doesn't even step away. The dagger slides stutteringly to the hilt. The innkeeper releases a small grunt and falls. He lands heavily, one hand wrapped around the hilt, his legs folded beneath him, empty eyes staring up to the ceiling.

"No!" Fahlan cries.

Jonah takes the advantage. The captain's sword is already dropping—he pushes it aside with his hand and steps swiftly into the range too close for the sword to reach. The captain is wearing mail armor—Jonah grasps the collar of his mail and pulls it infinitesimally away from his skin. This, in turn, forces Fahlan to lean forward, off-balance. Before the man can regain himself, Jonah plunges his dagger into the exposed hollow of his neck.

The captain gurgles, dropping his sword to wrap his hands around the crowd at his neck. Jonah holds the dagger in place and helps Fahlan to the ground. He continues to gurgle, drops of blood sprouting from his mouth to land on Jonah's chin. The wolf begins to slide the knife from the wound. Blood wells and Jonah closes a rag around it, stuffing it into the opening when the blade is fully removed. Near him, Sihya is preforming the same motions: retrieving her dagger and staunching the blood. Jonah wipes his chin.

Vahela rises from her throne, comes to the captain's side and folds onto her knees next to him. He coughs, gurgles, trying to speak. Jonah meticulously wipes away every drop that falls to the stone floor, then, when Fahlan's mouth begins to pool, he crams the rag into the man's mouth. He reaches up weakly, trying to remove it. He cannot breathe. Vahela puts her hand on his and stops him. He stares up at her with wide eyes, sucking deep and wet breaths through his nose until blood starts to leak from it as well. He turns his hand to grasp hers. Jonah ignores them both and continues to clean any blood that falls to the stone floor as if it came from the sky itself.

The life goes out of the captain quietly. He just stops breathing. Vahela releases his hand.

Sihya comes to stand above them. "The innkeeper is gone."

Vahela stands. "Fahlan as well."

Wordlessly, Jonah departs for the guard room and returns with a small wooden wagon. Its wheels clatter against the uneven stone, jostling the joints. He pulls it up next to the captain. "Now the hard part," he says dryly.

Sihya snickers.

The queen lifts an eyebrow to admonish them, but her lips twitch. "Let's move Haëgre first," she says, "while we have yet our strength."

The twins look to the innkeeper and agree. He's taller and broader than the captain, and thicker around the middle. Jonah pulls over the wagon.

They are unsuccessful in lifting the innkeeper from the floor to the wagon bed, but by lifting his legs in first, then having the twins lift his torso and Vahela pull his arms from the other side, they are able to force him up and in. They are able to lift Fahlan directly, even with his armor.