Free 01 - Honour of the Grave by Robin D. Laws - (ebook by Undead) Page B

Angelika’s cues.
    Angelika spoke to Isaak: “Our friend, Ekbert, who was guarding the horses
down there. You haven’t done anything permanent to him, have you?”
    “His skull will hurt, when he comes to.”
    “Well then. Nothing like a prisoner exchange first thing in the morning.”
    “I’ve seen you before,” Isaak said. “At the Dolorosa la Bara. You’ve been
staying at the Castello. What are you doing with these murderous sons of dogs?”
    “Murderous?”
    “Watch your tongue, border rat!” shouted Gelfrat.
    “They wear the black and yellow, don’t they? Whose side are you on?”
    “I serve my own interests. Who are you, and what is your grudge against
them?”
    “We are Prince Davio’s men. We fight under the banner of the Legione del
Dimenticato. And the men behind you are cruel slaughterers, who have slain our
brothers for no good reason.”
    Gelfrat charged forward to be next to Angelika. He shook his sword at Isaak.
“Treacherous mercenary scum! If your crawling lizard of a so-called prince had
honoured his word, we wouldn’t have had to waste our time punishing you!”
    “I see,” Angelika said, handing Isaak’s dagger back to him. “This is some
prior dispute, to which I am not a party.” She stepped sideways, moving well
clear, so that nothing stood between Isaak and Gelfrat. Both turned dumbfounded
heads in her direction. Neither moved to attack the other. Angelika leaned her
back against the rock and crossed her arms. She hoped she wouldn’t end up with
too much soot on her clothing, but the gesture was worth some extra washing. “Since no one wants
to die today,” she said, “perhaps we should put our weapons down.”
    From her new vantage point, Angelika could better see Isaak’s fellows. They
seemed to have little in common, except that they were all men. The mercenary
behind Isaak sported long, dark hair, and stared blankly ahead with yellow,
glassy eyes. He’d wrapped himself in a long, blue coat, and had tied a strip of
red cloth across his forehead. Next in line, a short, middle-aged man glowered.
The white, curly hair on his head matched that on his chest, which was bared
under an open linen shirt. The butts of twin pistols stuck out from his wide
leather belt. Behind him was a fat man with a red nose from too much rum. He
coughed and trembled in a damp knit tunic and hooded wool cloak. There was
nothing about these men to identify as a unit, or even soldiers. None wore
armour.
    She’d keep her eyes on the pistol-carrying man. If this all went wrong, it
was his guns that would pose the greatest danger.
    Gelfrat and Isaak locked gazes. Isaak swallowed; Gelfrat was easily a foot
taller than he, and outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. He did not
shift a muscle.
    “Bah!” said Gelfrat, turning from the smaller man, “We’ll deal them a
thrashing, if that’s what they want! But it’s not why we’re here.” He strode
over beside Angelika, placing his spine against the rock, as she had. She moved
aside to give him room. With his free hand, he punched at the rock.
    Angelika leaned forward, looking again at Isaak’s men. “Vou don’t perchance
have any halflings with you?”
    “I trust my own kind only,” said Isaak.
    “But it was you, spying on us from the trees, last night?”
    “I don’t know what you mean. We came upon your man by chance this morning, on
our way back home.”
    “I see.”
    “I don’t know what reasons you have to accompany these men.” He ventured to
take a step towards her. “But if you’ve agreed to work for the yellow and black,
you should know you’ve signed on for a deadly bargain. You heard them admit it.
They paid the prince so we would help them against the orcs. Yet when we failed to take as many greenskin heads as their war leader
wanted, they came to slay us!”
    “Liar!” Gelfrat spat. “You stopped killing orcs entirely, when they got too
much for you. You, and the border rat sellswords of the