The Prophecy Machine

9

Finn needed no further urging after that. As he came to the old man's side, an unearthly howl rose from the rear, a sound that fair chilled him to the bone.

“Letitia,” he said, “I think we'd best go. I fear these brutes are quite serious about this.”

“Will you move, please?” Sabatino ran a finger down his blade. “Go, and don't look back. I shall be there with you, don't be concerned about that.”

“Oh, I surely won't,” Finn said. “How could I have any doubts about you?”

With Letitia's help, he hurried the old man across the square and back toward the market. The people gave way, opening their ranks to let them through. They shook their fists and shouted, but made no effort to interfere.

Evidently, Finn decided, that was one of the rules of this game Sabatino had not had the time to describe. Finn detested games of every sort. The whole thing was a fool's pastime. Or would have been, except for the parts about skinning, hanging and loss of inner parts.

He retreated down one narrow street and then the next. Letitia assured him they'd come this way before, and Finn didn't doubt that she was right. Mycers came from folk who had to know exactly where they were at all times if they wished to stay alive.

“Who the hell are you? I don't know you, never saw you before, what're you doing to me?”

Finn gave the old man a curious look. It was the first time he'd spoken since his rescue from the rack.

“My name is Master Finn. What I'm doing is risking my life to save you from those dolts back there. If you'd like me to leave, I can surely do that.”

“Huh.” The old man thought about that, reached back and scratched his rear. “You a friend of that worthless son of mine?”

“Not even remotely, no.”

“Good. I'll accept your help, then, if I've got your word on that.”

“That's a great relief to me. I feared for a moment I'd have to leave you here.”

The old man glared, and tore away from Finn. “Don't talk back to me, young man. I'll have your feet flailed to bloody nubs. I'll-”

He stopped then, and stared. His bleary eyes went wide with surprise as he suddenly noticed Letitia, standing right beside Finn.

“Glory be,” he said in wonder, his weary features stretching in a grin, “Why, you naughty girl, I've had dreams about you, didn't think you'd ever come. Get over here and hug an old man, tell me your name, pretty thing.”

“I don't think so,” Letitia said sweetly, “just get that out of your head. And try not to breathe on me, you smell like everything I should've thrown out before we left home.”

“You can't offend me, girl, a lot of other people have tried. You'll come around, I'm willing to give you time.”

“I'd cease that suggestive line of talk if I were you,” Finn said. “I don't feel any strong obligation, old man. I wouldn't mind just leaving you here.”

“Don't stop to nap up there,” Sabatino shouted from the rear. “Keep it moving, craftsman, if you want to leave here with your head intact!”

Finn looked back. Sabatino was holding his own, but the horde was on him like flies.

“Letitia, can you hold him up by yourself?”

“No, I can't, Finn.”

“Try. I'll be back when I can.”

With that he was gone, trotting back to Sabatino.

“What are you doing here?” Sabatino said, without looking around, “Get back-where you-belong!”

With that, he swept his heavy weapon in a terrible arc, downing one fellow and slicing another across the neck.

“Fighting is very restful after listening to your father,” Finn said. “It's really quite pleasant back here.”

Moving to Sabatino's right, he left a crimson stripe across a foe's chest.

“He can be a bloody nuisance, you're right about that.”

“I want you to know that I will never forgive you for the trouble you've brought my way. This is in addition to what you did to that lad aboard ship, and your unwarranted attack on me. Our quarrel isn't done, don't think it is- watch it there, on your right!”

Sabatino caught a pole on his blade an instant before it found his head.

“Letitia's doing the best she can,” Finn said, “but it wouldn't hurt if you'd give us some direction. We weren't born in this mudhole of yours.”

“Mudhole, is it? I never imagined it as charming as that. In front of you, craftsman, that skinny fellow's faster than he looks.”

Finn took care of the man with the flat of his blade and moved up to cover a pair coming in from the left. While the enemy were armed with only sharpened poles, there were plenty of them, quite enough to take the pair down if they failed to stay on their toes.

Luckily, he and Sabatino had superior arms, and the other side failed to attack in an organized manner, as a whole, as a unit, as a trained group of soldiers might do. Instead, some would go forward, then suddenly turn to the right or to the left. Some would whip about and go backwards for a while. Some, as Finn had noted in the square, would bump into one another, or crack their skulls on a wall.

It was only by chance, then, that a foe with a cone-shaped hat would be directly in front of Sabatino or Finn. The danger was solely in their numbers, for they lacked all tactical skills.

The battle turned a corner and veered down a roughly cobbled street. Finn's fighting arm began to tire, but he couldn't slow down. Not in front of Sabatino, who seemed to have great reserves of strength, and was having a joyous time.

Where the hell are we, and where are we going? Finn asked himself.

What if Letitia's inborn instincts betrayed her this time? What if that addled old man had led her off another way?

As if in answer to his thoughts, Letitia shouted, her voice high and shrill, loud enough to cut through the noise of battle, and the crowd that squeezed in behind.

“Finn, Finn, this street's come to an end, there's nowhere else to go!”

“Fishes and Fruit,” Finn said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “I knew this would happen, I by damn knew …”

Sabatino let out a yell. Finn turned, ready to come to the fellow's aid, turned to see him go head over heels over some dark object in the street.

“Look at that,” Sabatino said with great disgust, coming quickly to his feet, “some mindless fool left a chair in the street. I could've been crippled for life!”

“Hard to imagine how something like that could happen,” Finn said, fending off another pair. One stared at the neat line of blood across his belly. The other simply turned and walked away.

There were plenty more about-apparently, Finn thought, an endless supply. He and Sabatino held them off, beating a hasty retreat to Letitia and the old man down the alleyway.

Letitia was right. The alley came abruptly to an end. A wooden fence and piles of rubble blocked the way. The fence was too high to climb and even if the three of them could make it, the old man would never have a chance.

“Hold them off as best you can,” Sabatino shouted in Finn's ear.

“And what do you intend to do?”

“I intend to tear down that damnable fence, if it's all right with you.”

“A grand idea. What are you going to tear it down with?”

Sabatino didn't answer. He left with a look Finn was quite accustomed to: scorn, disdain, and utter contempt. Sabatino had several other “looks,” but these were the three he clearly liked the best.