'Oh fuck,' Randur grunted. Imperial soldiers. How could they have tracked us out here? Eir gripped the hilt of her sword, ready to fight till the end, while Rika stood quiet and resigned.
Soldiers faded in through the forest foliage, cracking back small branches.
A moment later, a lean and stubbled soldier approached. He appeared to be in his forties, with close-cropped dark hair dappled grey. Standing over six foot, his face was every bit that of an experienced veteran, pockmarked and scarred, and with eyes that said he had no time for messing around. 'Munio?' he said to the swordmaster. 'You're free to go, of course. One of the privates will see about your reward.'
'Uh, sarge?'
'Yes, Felch?' The soldier turned impatiently to one of his comrades, a significantly younger and more cautious character.
'Spot of trouble on that front. He'll have to take credit notes because we, uh, forgot to bring all the money from the barracks.'
'For pity's sake, just deal with it, someone,' Howls muttered despondently.
Munio wouldn't make eye contact, wouldn't let Randur see his face. The old man held his face firmly lowered in his hands.
The realization dawned on Randur. 'You fucker. You hand us over, for what?' Randur made as if to strike him before one of the soldiers stepped in to restrain him, pinning his arms behind his back. Randur strained to break free, his muscles stinging with pain. 'How much were our lives worth to you, you wanker?'
His wrists were clamped in manacles, as were Rika's, while Eir was soon stripped of her sword.
'You said a man can change, young Kapp,' Munio mumbled, his gaze still to the ground. 'You can never completely change who you are. I will take my place in this world as a bastard, willingly, and for that I can… I can only apologize.'
'Money', Howls interjected, 'is a great leveller, but you three are too young to understand that just yet. Right then, from here you'll be taken to Villjamur to face charges. I think you'll know what's likely – you'll be slaughtered on the outer wall of the city – and Urtica has asked to perform the task himself this time. I believe, his words were 'This is personal', which means we must keep you alive for the time being.'
'You realize', Randur muttered, 'that we're innocent in all of this.'
'Of course you are,' Howls replied. A smile. 'Go into any gaol and they will say the same thing.'
Just then a bass groan seemed to deconstruct the air around them.
Suddenly a man – or something resembling one – landed in their midst, collapsing down to one knee to break his fall. His impact with the ground could be felt by all. The figure remained there for a moment longer, head down as if in prayer, a dark cloak enveloping him.
Lithely, he stood up, clearly taller than any soldier there. Seven feet at least, he had long black hair, and his skin was a pale blue, his cheeks so sunken they seemed stuck to the bone. As he scanned his surroundings his eyes resembled two lumps of charcoal. He turned to reveal that he was dressed in exotic military clothing, a metallic X binding him across the chest. Casually, the new arrival withdrew two sabres from over his shoulder, fat blades that were twice as long as any Randur had ever seen, let alone used.
Soldiers all around unsheathed theirs in response.
'You are Jamur military?' this apparition asked, a grating tone that was almost painful to listen to.
'Uh, technically, it's Urtican military now-'
'Very well. It matters little.' The speech was slow, as if the intruder was practising the Jamur language from scratch.
'True. A different wax seal on our orders, mainly.'
'Quiet, Felch.'
'Sorry, sarge.'
'We've no business with you, whoever you are,' Sergeant Howls grunted, advancing slowly towards the stranger.
'Leave these individuals – the females. Be on your way. No harm will find you.'
'Impossible.' Howls scowled. 'We have orders from Emperor Urtica himself to return these prisoners to Villjamur.'
'If that is the case,' the stranger appeared to be in deep thought, 'then I will have to eliminate you.'
Randur was bemused by the creature's arrogance. Who the hell is this thing, trying to save us? Not that he was complaining, assessing the size of the bugger. Rather have him on my side in a scrap…
'You', Howls sneered, 'against a hundred Imperial soldiers?'
'It seems unfair. Yes. But I have warned you. Do not say that I have not given you a chance to submit to my will.'
'Fuck this,' Howls grunted, then gave a series of quick, sharp orders to his men.
A flurry of activity from the soldiers as they moved effortlessly, with a programmed discipline, along the perimeter of the clearing. Their ranks soon totally obscured the blue-skinned figure, all except for its head. Dozens of arrows began snapping through the air, and Randur could see the edge of the immense blade the stranger had brought with him as its swing-arc became a silver blur.
Everything seemed to happen slowly.
A staccato pinging of metal rang out, and a first line of ten soldiers surged towards the stranger – before they fell rapidly, their bodies ripped and broken. Randur had never heard so many men screaming at once. They moved forwards, they died. This stranger was a deadly presence.
The creature's blade flashed horizontally, severing two heads. Soldiers on the opposite flank paused in terror.
Blood flecked the snow ever more densely, as further men collapsed, some even dying as they sought retreat, their backs carved open, their spines severed. Without discipline, they now attacked in twos and threes, but gained little ground on the creature, the reach of its blades being so great.
Randur watched in horrified awe.
Screams eventually faded. It didn't take much to realize what was going to happen. Randur almost willed the next two men to flee, but, with both weapons gripped in one hand, the creature picked up one of the soldiers by the throat with the other, crushing his windpipe with one fist, while he skewered his blades into the stomach of the second. The man dropped lifeless to the ground, the other fell apart in two separate sections.
Several soldiers could be seen retreating into the darkness of the forest, and then there fell a perfect silence, not even allowing the sound of bird-call. Randur peered around for some sign of Munio, but the coward had already made his escape. Munio Porthamis had always been – and perhaps would eternally be – a fucker.
Randur's heart throbbed as the blue-skinned man turned to face them. With precise steps that showed no regard for the varying depth of snow, the large figure advanced towards them. Don't say anything stupid, Rand. Not now – not ever.
Their rescuer paused before them, Randur seeing its features clearly for the first time. Its skin was the same shade as purpling dusk, and the eyes lacked pupils so it was difficult to know who it was looking at. There was a gesture made towards the two girls, and Eir stepped in front of her sister.
It said: 'You are heirs to the Jamur lineage?'
They nodded.
'Very well. It has taken me far too long to track you down since you fled the city. I am Artemisia, an agent of the Truwisa.' They stared blankly at him. 'My words mean nothing to you?'
The women shook their heads, and all Randur could do was stare at the blood drenching the stranger's clothing. Underneath the blood, glimmered material like silver chainmail, yet it was clearly some type of embroidered fabric. Deep cuts severed the material at the sleeves, and there was a gash across the creature's chin and several scars across the cheeks and forehead, but whatever it was it gave no signs of being in pain, and it seemed perfectly at ease amid the human wreckage.
'At least it is not my own blood,' the being grunted, following Randur's gaze. 'Or yours, for that matter.'
'True,' Randur admitted. 'It's just that… you know, we're, uh, not quite sure what to think of some man just falling out of the sky.'
'I am female… And maybe it is best if you do not think of anything for the moment. Now, let us move further into the clearing.'
'Perhaps', Randur suggested, 'you could help get rid of these chains first?' The creature leaned over, and with
