Death's Sword Book 1: Finding and Seeking

Chapter 16, part 1: Day 23

In the grey half-light that signified that nightsend was not far away, the courtyard seethed with motion, like salmon crowding into a tiny rivulet to spawn. The yellow flare of torches caused patches of colour to glow here and there but most of the scene was limited to varying shades of grey. Kleymin stared at the bustling crowd. He was bemused by the strange brown haze he still saw surrounding each person or animal, other colours drained away as though they were lifeless corpses. The only real life he saw anywhere was Tania but when she smiled at him, he looked away, embarrassed, acutely aware of the danger he had exposed her to. As a result, the boy did not see the look of irritation that crossed the girl's face when he turned from her.

Susoo sat on a dorvei, resting comfortably in the saddle. She looked over the party with some distaste. How did the boy get involved with that grubby little gnome and that slut of a Teuton peasant girl, she wondered. She was also acutely aware that she was no longer surrounded by trained sohei but was having to rely on a bunch of round-eyed gaijin, marume one and all, and a handful of ronin. This mission gets worse with each passing day, the corners of her mouth turning down with this thought. She pursed her lips and glared irritably at Tzumak as he had his usual trouble mounting his beast. What is it with the man, she wondered, dorvei aren't that difficult to control.

Kleymin kept fiddling at the knots that kept Namarth strapped to his back, hilt above his left shoulder. His fingers flexed nervously. He could not bring himself to believe that the sword had destroyed the three klchzak the previous day, and kept expecting a fresh attack. That, in turn, reminded him of the four men he had killed. He felt none of the joy he had felt in achieving victory in the dojo. He could not forget how they looked as they met their death. Four men, who had thought to come to his aid. He wondered if they might have become his friends, if they had lived. He hated Vartansberg with its memories and he ached to be away from it. And oh! If only his eyes would stop playing such strange tricks upon him....

The Graf was making his way around the apparent confusion, stopping to exchange a few brief words with every man or woman going out on the sweep. Eventually, he reached Kleymin, Burrowwold and Tania. "You'll soon be on your way," he reassured them, "I've also told the guards and patrols to look out for any hunchbacks who show themselves. If they catch anyone, he'll be brought to me." Privately, Kleymin had little faith in these measures but he said nothing.

As the Graf walked away, the boy checked over his dorvei and gear again, preparing to mount. Rolf had been unable to find the Hywheni-style bow he had requested, so had supplied a typical Mansurian longbow instead. Kleymin had two strings for the bow in his belt pouch, in a small oiled purse. The bow was strapped along the left flank of his dorvei. The quiver of arrows was attached to the saddle on the right. Rolf had managed to fulfill Kleymin's request there, even down to an assortment of the wickedly-barbed arrows called 'bowel-rakers'.

Just as the boy finished, someone barged heavily into his back, slamming him into the flank of his beast. The dorvei shied away with an angry whinny and dangerous toss of its little horns. Kleymin grabbed the creature's halter and turned to see what had happened. One of the soldiers was stomping away, ignoring the boy. Kleymin could feel the hostility and anger radiating from the man. Without even being aware of why, he took a step backwards. A heavy armoured boot landed where his right foot had been a split-second before. He looked up into the blue eyes of another of the soldiers, head and shoulders and more taller than him. "Watch where you're going, killer." snarled the man before pushing past and on into the crowd. Shaken, the boy watched him go. Well, you did kill the sohei and those three possessed. They might have been friends of his, a small voice said in his head.

Kleymin mounted his dorvei and tried to calm himself with the routine his aunt had taught him. The small crows feather traced the patterns of the marks on his hands. Star and crescent. Star and crescent. Star and crescent. It was soothing in its familiarity. His weapons made slight noises in time with his motions. He missed the glare that Tania shot at him and the way she then nudged her beast away from his and closer to Rolf's.

The Teutonic warriors wore mail hauberks of steel, most with pieces like shino-suneata and hiedata giving increased protection to their legs, and simple conical helms with nasals protecting their heads. The Hywheni contingent wore their usual laced sangu of bronze but with steel where they could afford it – mostly concentrated on their legs also, Susoo noted. Clearly, they expected most of their fighting to be as cavalry.

All their weapons, though, were steel, none of the more common bronze save the arrow-heads; one advantage of working for the iron-rich Grafs, she supposed. That was satisfactory. If there were any surviving klchzak about, bronze weapons would be next to useless. Steel, though, was another matter entirely. Perhaps her escort were not quite as poor as she had feared.

Her thoughts turned to her colleagues back in Edo-Hywhen. The Inquisition was still arguing within itself as to whether the klchzak they had encountered had never been bound or if they had somehow escaped the confines of their prison. Some of her colleagues argued for the former, just one or two for the latter. She hoped that the majority were right, that it was just a handful of unbound emerging from hiding at last. She feared that it was the start of something much worse, though, and the gnawing sensation in her gut would not leave her. She wished she was back home and not here on the frontier and surrounded by barbarians.

At last, the party began to move. The animals wound through the streets of the city and clattered out of the main gates. The matching gates on the outer wall swung open just as the advance guard reached them. It was getting lighter now, though still very cold. Kleymin could see the splash of bright red that was Rolf's cloak just two or three ranks ahead of him. Somehow, that made the air feel a little less chill. It was surprising to the boy how much colder it was here, though, than in the village of the ninja just that little further south.

With a start, Kleymin suddenly realised that the haze surrounding everyone had begun to fade and colour was bleeding back into his sight. He gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps it was just a reaction to the strange food I've been eating? In his heart, though, he knew that this was not the case and that it had something to do with the sword. The sword he could feel on his back, almost like the presence of another person riding behind him.

Sitting up a little straighter and looking around once more, he was surprised to see two Hywheni warriors riding dorvei and three on yaks amongst the group. They wore no mon that he could see so he suspected they were ronin, taking work where they could. He still thought that it would be best to avoid them if he could. He felt uncomfortably aware of the number of stares, some of them downright hostile, that he and his companions were attracting. The fact that Susoo seemed to be receiving even more glares and angry mutterings made him feel only a little better. The Grand Inquisitor seemed totally impervious to the hostility.