Warrior's Touch (Deadly Touch book 2)

Amico and Chino were saddled and brought into the corral as the troops mounted their own horses. Braph himself held Amico’s bridle while Llew pulled herself into her saddle. Jonas was left to struggle into his own, and Chino was not short, nor Jonas tall. Still, years of practice of jumping into that saddle came to the fore, and he swung into place on the second attempt. Titters and chuckles rippled through the gathered troop. And Jonas sat in his saddle, unresponsive and expressionless.

Braph directed the few troops still on their feet to gather up several bags of their pellets and some of the new forearm stake weapons they had been making before turning to the rest of the crowd.

“Move out!” He scowled at his soldiers, as if they had been dallying. “We’ve got an Immortal to … mort.”

Llew felt flat. She should have felt sick, or angry, or sad, or all three. She should have been leaping from her own saddle and attacking Braph, scratching his eyes out. She should have been crying. Something.

But she had nothing. Jonas: powerless; Hisham: dead; one Ajnai: dead; Merrid and Ard: their future in peril. And her own future, what did it now hold? Only the vague hope that she might still rescue her ma and return Jonas’s son to him. But how? She couldn’t fathom.

Braph demanded a swift pace through the late afternoon. Llew wrapped her jacket tight as Amico broke sweat beneath her, powering on through the winter’s chill. Jonas rode determinedly beside her, either not bothered by, or not feeling the cold at all.

They had no idea what they were riding into, but it seemed now they had little choice.

Full darkness was threatening, and the first flakes of snow drifted when the troop pulled up in Keldely. The town was not especially small, not especially large, and was well-lit by gas lamps along the central road. Though not cobbled, the street was graded and free of the day’s refuse and horse manure. It felt like a town on the verge of cityhood.

Braph rode up to a long, wooden building, farther along the main street, although the airy silence and the way the breeze whisked around the building suggested they were, instead, at the edge of town.

When Braph hit the ground, so did forty-plus other feet. Jonas was already sliding from Chino’s back, so Llew dismounted, too. Braph strode the platform coming to a stop before them.

“You, you, and you.” He pointed at Jonas, Llew and a soldier who had appointed herself Llew’s guard and curled his finger. The trio climbed the platform and followed Braph inside. Braph invited Jonas to walk alongside him, like his right-hand man, or, his lieutenant, perhaps.

Jonas walked, his whole demeanor glum. But soldier-glum. There was still a purpose to each step, still a sense that he was churning things over inside. He just wasn’t giving any of it away.

They traversed a short corridor, dimly lit by flickering electric lighting. They emerged onto a covered boardwalk that reminded Llew of the gallows back in Cheer. A chill shook her at the memory and the hollow sound that accompanied each step had her peering through the dim light for a dangling rope and expecting the floor to give way at any moment.

Electric lighting buzzed overhead as they approached an open window in the side of the building where Braph spoke to a skinny man who looked mighty cold despite his thick coat. Numbers were bargained over something called “tickets” until a deal was struck and Braph turned and walked back the way they had come, triumphant and annoyed all at once. Llew followed behind, unsure of her part in the whole business.

Back at the front of the building, Braph stood before his soldiers like a born captain, tall and self-important.

“The train pulls in at ten and leaves at eleven,” he addressed the troop. “You have a few hours in which to enjoy a meal and perhaps a drink or two. I’m not your mother. I won’t be rounding you up ensuring you’re on board. Those left behind will simply miss out. And believe me...” He appraised Llew and Jonas before turning back to the group. “The show’s just getting started.”

Braph dismissed them all, directed ten of the men to take the horses to a stable, and offered his left elbow to Llew. She almost laughed that he would think she would be going anywhere linked with him in any way. He shrugged off her insult and gripped her elbow, turning and urging her along the boardwalk to a door near one end of the building.

Inside was a stark contrast to out. A low ceiling, fire, chandeliers, and a candle on each table gave the room a certain intimacy that belied its expanse. The walls were wallpapered over scrim, giving the room a warmth unachievable by wood-paneling alone, and what wood was on display was stained dark in keeping with the almost romantic setting. Romantic, maybe, depending on the company.

They were seated at a table for three. Braph ordered meals and wine for them.

They waited in silence and Llew sipped tentatively at her wine. On her empty stomach, it went straight to her head, which wasn’t a bad thing. The world had turned upside down the day Aris had killed her babies, and now here she sat at a table in the heart of Turhmos with Jonas and Braph. And, by all accounts, they were about to enjoy a civil meal together. It didn’t stretch belief to think that a few sips of wine might re-align the world to the way it should be. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Instead, she grew more sullen.

The meals arrived and the table settled to silence again. The winter vegetables were cooked to perfection, not too hard, not too mushy, and the steak divided cleanly under her knife, almost melting in her mouth like the chocolate Jonas had smuggled for her in Rakun. Merrid’s cooking was hard to top, though. It was the closest Llew had come to a mother’s cooking in over a decade, and she could have sworn love really was a secret ingredient.

The food cleared Llew’s mind briefly but, under the circumstances, she preferred it a little fuzzy, so she said “yes” each time the neck of the wine bottle hovered over the rim of her glass, whether or not she had emptied it.

She was lucid enough to briefly wonder how Braph was going to pay for it all. That query was answered as they left the restaurant when no cash was exchanged and Braph instructed the clerk to charge the state. It was funny to think of Turhmos shouting Llew and Jonas to a meal. Ha!

Maybe she’d had a little too much to drink.

Someone’s hand looped under her arm. Jonas’s hand. She crooked her arm and placed her other hand over his and smiled at him. He glanced at her but struggled to smile.

“He was a good friend.”

“But I never told him that.”

Llew was going to say You will, but stopped herself in time. You will?!

She squeezed his hand since she didn’t have the words to comfort.

They walked back through the building to the raised boardwalk that Braph called a ‘platform’ and waited for his troops to meander through. They trickled in, in varying states of inebriation, some with a distinctly relaxed glow. One handed Braph a stack of money.

And they waited.

People continued to gather on the platform, including families with glassy-eyed children asking why they were still awake. Parents assured them they could sleep soon.

And they waited.

Braph threw about a few curses, proclaiming that whatever they were waiting on was late, until a growling rumble and clatter reverberated along the length of the building, the source unknown.

The children were suddenly awake. Some little ones burst into tears in their mother’s arms, while others ran and jumped with excitement, whipping sharp retorts from their parents.

A dull light threw drifting shadows along the crowded platform as it floated airily closer, bringing the horrendous rumble with it. A ghostly cry sounded, chilling Llew to the bone. An immense hiss was followed by a screeching of metal on metal. Llew peered into the dark, trying to see what was bringing all the noise; her body prepared to flee.

The light kept coming on.

Braph stood relaxed. Llew might have believed he was deaf or blind to the approaching danger had his gaze not been casually following the light, billowing smoke and puffing steam.

Llew fought her urge to run.

A huge iron – carriage? – pulled up in front of them. With a deafening hiss, it cloaked the waiting people in steam and whined to a halt.

The platform broke out in chaos. Booming voices called for those waiting to “Step behind the line! Step back!” The already densely packed platform crowded even tighter behind a painted white line, leaving a clear path between those waiting and the …

“What is that?”

“Huh?” Braph leaned so his ear was right by Llew’s mouth. She had a brief flash of taking that ear between her teeth and gnawing on it, ripping it off, blood filling her mouth, running down her chin, Braph’s agonized screams.

“I said, ‘What is that thing?’” She leaned forward, almost kissing his ear. Biting it preferably.

“Oh. A train,” he said, as if it was nothing.

People emerged from the train, some with heavy bags, most looking like they’d just woken.

It may not have smelt of fish, but the platform was much like a dock in many ways. Men rushed here and there doing whatever it was they needed to do to a train, people pushed and shoved to get off it, others pushed and shoved to get on and were shoved back and told to wait.

Another half hour or so later those waiting were allowed to clamber into the carriages, which looked like houses on wheels.

Braph urged their smaller group forwards, leaving the rest of his troop to take care of themselves.

Llew stopped. “Amico.”

“What?” Braph put a hand to the small of her back, but she didn’t move.

“Amico. My horse,” she clarified.

“Oh.” His eyes shifted constantly, taking everything in. “Gone.” The pressure on Llew’s back increased.

“What?” Jonas asked, leaning close to hear and be heard.

“Gone?” Llew locked her knees and pressed all her weight into her feet. “What do you mean gone? Where’s he gone?”

“Sold.”

“Sold?!” Llew spun to face Braph and a pair of Turhmos soldiers gripped her arms. “You sold him? He was my horse! Mine!”

“That you won’t be needing any more. Move.” He gripped her shoulder, turning her and pushing her on. She couldn’t resist that shove. She stumbled forward, nearly putting a foot in the nothingness between the platform and the carriage. Braph gripped her arm, pulling her back.

“Chino?” Jonas fought to get close to Braph.

Braph met Jonas’s eyes, but said nothing. He propelled Llew up the ladder-like steps.

A narrow isle between seats was crowded with people stowing bags. Llew was crushed against Braph’s body, unable to move forward while he pressed from behind. All she could think of was her horse. She turned to speak over her shoulder. “I could have come back for him.” Braph laughed, even as his eyes continued to scan their surroundings, and his body pressed her forward again.

Eventually, a path to an empty bench seat opened and Braph directed her to sit by the window, sliding in beside her before she was even properly seated.

“I was not about to pay for some thirty horses to ride this train.”

“They can do that?” Llew sat up, looking over the heads of other passengers, then over her shoulder to another sea of faces.

“They would be put with the large cargo. Separate carriages,” he said it like she was stupid. “But, as I said, not paying for it.”

“You only had to bring two. They were ours. You had no right!”

“I’d give you the money I got for him, but it was a bulk deal, and you won’t get the chance to spend it anyway, not where you’re going.”

Llew didn’t know what to say. Jonas sat in the seat behind her, beside one of their guards, dejected.