Free The Wasteland Soldier, Book 3, Drums Of War (TWS) by Laurence Moore Page B

killing Shaylighters. No one gives a shit about them.”
    “We killed some in a canyon near here,” said Nuria. “They were chasing a man. He got away from them.”
    “The most that attacked us once was about ten on horseback. That’s a large number for Shaylighters. They were armed with spears and axes. It was pretty scary for a short time.” She patted one of the crossbows. “These will keep you alive on the road.”
    “You killed them all?” said Stone.
    “I know what I’m doing. So does Benny. He’s a good man. He’s clever, too. And he’s a friend. Don’t be fooled by how he looks. Just do as he says. Don’t get smart thinking you know better. He knows what he’s doing. We both do.”
    “One of the Shaylighters we encountered carried a box of light.” Stone fingered his burnt tunic. “It did this.”
    “That’s not possible.”
    “Trust me, it is.”
    Quinn narrowed her eyes.
    “Did he wear a hat of feathers?”
    Stone nodded
    “His name is Essamon. He’s their spiritual leader, a crazy man.” She peeled off her cap, scratched her head. “It’s strange to find him this close to Brix. He usually stays deep in the western hills.”
    “What was the box?” asked Nuria.
    She told them she didn’t know exactly what it was but that it had to be a piece of Ancient tech which was forbidden and carried a penalty of death.
    “The Shaylighters don’t believe in the Lord and the Holy House. They have nothing but hatred for the cross. I’m surprised Essamon has Ancient tech. But you’re lucky to be here. He can’t be killed.”
    “Nuria stuck an axe in his shoulder. He bled like any man.”
    “Essamon is not like any man. There are stories he has powers.”
    Stone nodded with disinterest. He then asked, “Why are you quitting?”
    “That’s none of your business.”
    He said nothing, picked up the crossbows and slung them over his shoulder. He lugged the box of ammunition into the tangled garden. It bright outside, hot and windy. He allowed his eyes to roam the village and for a fleeting moment he thought of Emil, back in Dessan, one of the Eastern Villages in North Gallen. Her life was there now. She had chosen a man and chosen a place. He wondered what she would have made of Brix and the Holy House. He wondered what she would have made of Quinn. He smiled wryly. He knew exactly how she would have reacted to Quinn’s spiky personality.
    Was he a man who could choose a place like she had?
    Stubbornly, he accepted how much he missed her. She was his last connection to Tomas, once his closest friend, almost a son, stabbed to death in the wastelands last year by a tribal leader known as the Cleric.
    But it was a far deeper emotion than simply that. He saw Nuria and Emil as a small family.
    He glanced down at the box in his grasp and stepped back inside the workshop.
    “We don’t need these.”
    “What?” said Nuria.
    “Since when do we suddenly care about coins and merchants? If Boyd needs mercenaries he can hire those idiots from the inn.”
    “Dobbs and Farrell are wankers,” said Quinn, echoing Duggan’s opinion. “I had to suggest them because there’s no one else. Brix is a working town. Benny would have to ride to Touron to enlist fighting men and it would take days. He’d be behind on his schedule for the festivals and fairs. Look, you made a deal with him. Honour it. He needs protecting.”
    “Then you protect him.”
    “I can’t. I …”
    “Why? Where are you going?”
    “I told you that’s none of your business.”
    “You suddenly decide to walk away at the beginning of Boyd’s busy schedule. That makes me suspicious.”
    Nuria looked between them. He had a point.
    “Take the work,” said Quinn. “Be glad of it.”
    “I’m glad of the sun on my face. What are you hiding?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Then why are we being watched?”
    Both women spoke at once. “What?”
    “A fair haired boy loitering at the well on the hill. He’s been following us since we