I’d left the old head of the guards, Bryn, in charge as my viceroy; he’d always been loyal to me, and he’d been at the Keep since before I was born. He knew how everything worked, and I knew I could trust him to take care of affairs in Brakith efficiently while I was away.
He’d make sure Edwin was kept under house arrest, after I’d released the whiny actor from the stocks on my shit-faced way to bed. The guards had been told I would personally release him when the time was right yesterday, and with all the bottomless chalices and “All hail Lord Vance Chauzec, God of Death!”s, it hadn’t exactly been at the top of my priority list.
Perhaps I should have considered some among my new disciples might have held back a little less than the townspeople when it came to publicly shaming someone who had betrayed their god. Still, I had released him and promised he wouldn’t be put back up there if he behaved under house arrest.
Though I wasn’t sure he’d heard me through the layer of crusted sewage and rot that he hadn’t been able to break away from his eyes and ears. I didn’t feel bad about this three-inch beauty mask my disciples had smeared on him, though. It was a fitting final night of mortification on the stocks for the pretty boy.
Anna had begged me to allow her to accompany me on the quest, but, even in my inebriated state, with my weakened resolve, I’d managed to tell her no. As smokin’ hot as she was, she was no warrior, and we didn’t need any extra baggage where we were going. Knowing she’d be here wet and waiting when I returned victorious wasn’t a bad motivator for completing the quest either.
Elyse, ever responsible, had gone to bed early and was thus feeling lively. Isu was as much of a loner as she ever was and seemed to be in a foul mood for having to come out of the crypts and walk about in the daylight again. Rollar was absorbed in the scrolls and tomes he’d brought along, reading them while riding his giant dire-bear. Drok simply jogged alongside us, at the very back or front of the train, depending on which way the wind was blowing so that we’d be out of range of his reek. He’d drunk himself to oblivion the night before and had maybe two or three hours of sleep, but the huge bastard seemed right as rain regardless.
I rode up ahead of everyone on Fang, with a division of my skeletal cavalry behind me. I rode in silence, alone, for a good few hours in the morning, but eventually my hangover, mild as it was, required me to get back to the supply wagon to refill my waterskin.
I lifted up the cover at the back of the wagon and then whipped out Grave Oath and cursed when I saw a pair of eyes staring out from under a pile of cloaks at me.
“You have about two fucking seconds to show yourself, you piece of shit,” I said, “before I turn that pile of cloaks into a soul-sucking pincushion with this dagger and make it the last place you ever fucking hide in your soon-to-be-short life.”
“It’s me, Vance! Please don’t hurt me!” a familiar voice protested, shrill with fright.
I groaned, slipped Grave Oath back into its sheath, and buried my face in my hands.
“Anna, for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled. “I told you that you weren’t allowed to come with me! What the fuck are you doing hiding back there?”
Anna climbed out of the pile of cloaks under which she’d been hiding. “I just… I had to come, Vance. It sounds stupid, but I had a dream that I really, really had to come with you on this quest. The Charm Goddess, Lucielle, spoke to me in the dream and said that she was in great danger. She needed your help, but if I didn’t come along on this quest, you wouldn’t be able to help her. I’m sorry for disobeying you, Vance, but I just had to. I had to come along. I can’t explain to you how vivid this dream felt and how important Lucielle’s message felt to me. You just have to trust me.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Well, I suppose we’ve already gone too far for you to make it back to Brakith on your own before nightfall, and I’m sure as hell not going to turn around and escort you all that way back. So, I guess—”
“Vance!” Rollar boomed from the front of the train, his voice hoarse with urgency. “We’ve got trouble, big trouble!”
“Shit,” I muttered. “Stay in the wagon, Anna. You’re no fighter, and I’ll never forgive myself if you get killed. Get back under the cloaks, now!”
I jogged out to where Fang was waiting for me at the very front of the train. I saw what Rollar was talking about before I got there. About a mile ahead, troops were pouring out of the woods onto the road. It was a force of northern barbarian cavalry, mounted on huge direwolves.
“Friends of yours?” I asked Rollar and Drok grimly.
“They’re not a band I know,” Rollar muttered. “But they look like marauders. The type who kill first and ask questions later.”
Drok, however, did seem to know them—and not in a good way.
“Enemies,” he growled. “And that one,” he shouted, pointing at a huge, red-haired barbarian on a black direwolf “he raid Drok’s village, steal Drok’s gold, kill Drok’s friends, and fuck Drok’s wife!”
“Well then,” I said as I jumped onto Fang and drew my kusarigama, “I guess it’s time to repay him the favor. Get ready for battle, everyone!”
Chapter Six
“You! Pretty man with big lizard,” the red-haired
