Black Rose Pt. 42

(In which not so much justice as vengeance finally catches up with Paul and Owyn.

But this is an episode in which nearly everyone gets things wrong, and makes hasty assumptions, and jumps to false conclusions, and only a couple of characters don't.

Contains violence.)

***

Chapter 42

A Few Drinks and a Fire and Good Company

Now then, Five thought. Time for the card face.

'Word has it she's dead,' she said.

'We don't think so,' said Paul Beckhulder. 'There is a third one of us, our leader, who thinks Freya alive, and who seeks her.'

'Why would you want a dead woman?'

'We do not think she is dead. More than that, I prefer not to say, until I know who you are.'

'Well,' Five said, 'doesn't that make you look like you mean her no good?'

'She is alive, then,' said Paul Beckhulder.

'I never said that. But if you meant well by her, why wouldn't you say so?'

'Trust us,' said Paul Beckhulder.

'Got to do better than that,' Five said.

'How did you get into the army,' said the other one.

Five looked at him, wary.

'Long story.'

'This seems like a nice place,' he said, turning away from them and walking over to the wall, where a keg was mounted on a stand, and there were stoneware flasks and bottles on shelves, and even some dark glass ones. He picked up one bottle and looked at the handwritten label.

'Now,' he said, pointing at it, 'this stuff is good. Do you take a drink?'

'Not when I'm facing down two blokes, no.'

He grinned, and he held out his arms as if to say, Look, come on, we're all friends here.

'Easy, love. You got a sword out, I don't. The bookman can't fight worth a sod, and there's nobody else in the place. So why don't we just sit down by the fire, have a fuckin' drink and get to know each other. You're not goin' anywhere and neither are we.'

'You're leaving,' Five said, glancing at Paul Beckhulder. He was a bookman, then? But he was clean-shaven, and rather handsome.

The big man took three china cups down from a high shelf and sloshed honey-coloured liquor into them from the bottle.

'Incorrect,' he said. 'We're waiting for our leader. Just like yours is, what, asleep upstairs?'

Prick.

'I'm on me own,' Five said.

'Stop it,' said the man pleasantly. He put one glass down on one end of the long table and walked to the other end of it.

'You're wearing Hargest army tattoos,' he said. 'We have it on good authority that Freya Aelfrethe was last left in the company of an unnamed Hargest soldier. A woman known as the Serpent Queen's been knockin' about the north, slayin' worms for the past several months, with an unnamed female as her constant companion. Our leader figured out that the Serpent Queen and Freya Aelfrethe are probably the same. Therefore, you're Freya's friend, and there's some reason how you came to serve in the army, because Hargest don't have women fighters. So, take the weight off, have a drink and tell us what it is.'

He sat down, sipped his drink and sighed contentedly.

'First drink I've had in a while,' he said. 'Have to be careful or I'll get pissed.'

Five looked from him to Paul Beckhulder, who shrugged and went over to the table and picked up one of the other glasses and sat.

'Owyn Durberry,' said the big man, raising his glass at her. 'Pleased to meet you. Again.'

Five came away from the wall, still holding her sword, and sat on the edge of a chair.

'Tell me who you cunts are,' Five said.

'First of all,' Owyn Durberry said, 'we're not both cunts. My colleague, now, he's a good and moral bloke. I'm not. I'm strictly a cunt. But I'm atoning, love, you know? I done wrong, and I'm atoning for it.'

'Don't take the piss,' Five said.

'He is not,' said Paul Beckhulder.

'I'm not, honest,' said Owyn Durberry, and this time he wasn't smiling. 'I really did do wrong. It's just the way I talk.'

'Well,' said Five, 'it's fucking annoying.'

'Yeah,' said Owyn. 'It's why I've so few friends.'

'You've fought before,' Five said.

'Twenty years, man and boy.'

'For who?'

'I've been around,' he said. 'I'll admit, I've not always been too choosy. But you're a bright... um...'

He peered at Five.

'All right,' he said, 'I'll just up and ask it, 'cos I've been calling you "gorgeous" for the last five minutes but I'm startin' to doubt meself. Are you a bloke or a woman?'

Five stared at him.

'Are you and me pledged to be married?'

'You and I,' Paul Beckhulder said.

'Paul,' Owyn Durberry said, 'Fuck's sake."

He looked up at Five, quizzical.

'Uh, no.'

'Then it's none of your fucking business.'

He stared back, then to Five's surprise he shrugged and had another pull at his drink.

'Fair enough. Anyway, to answer your question, I've fought for a lot of people. Hasn't done me much good in the long run. Probably would have been better if I'd just signed up to one good and noble cause and taken me chances, but I got a bit fond of two things. Money, and not being dead.'

'What about drink,' said Paul Beckhulder.

'Well,' said Owyn, 'that one's sort of a consequence of the first two, wouldn't you say?'

'Not inevitably.'

'You two don't half talk a lot,' Five said.

'To be fair,' said Owyn, 'you did ask us who we are.'

'I asked you to tell me who you were,' Five said, 'not to bicker about whatever the other one says.'

'So, who are you then,' Owyn said.

'Not saying.'

'Oh, come on,' he said. 'Open up a bit. Here we are, with a few drinks and a fire and good company, and you're still acting like we broke in to steal the silver! It's a fuckin' Bothy, all right? It's a place strangers meet where they have to get on, or else it don't work. If you're not with Freya Aelfrethe, what the fuck you doing here? And if you are with her, where is she?'

'What do you know about her,' Five said.

'Listen,' he said, 'I got nothin' but respect. Hand on my heart. Best warrior in the kingdom. Record speaks for itself. What was it, seventy, seventy-two men?'

Five shrugged. Her face said, How should I know. He grinned and pointed a finger at her and stood up.

'Oooo,' he said, walking over to her. 'You're sharp. Anyway, I never seen her myself but I know blokes who did, and they all said there was no-one like her. And our leader does know her. Our leader reckons anyone could survive being eaten by a giant bloody worm, it's Freya. But she wouldn't be able to get out by herself, so someone must've rescued her. And we think that someone is you. And if it is you, then you know where she is, but bein' loyal and all, you'd never tell anyone.'

He stood before her, towering over her. She noticed that, although he didn't appear to be, he was standing with one arm on guard and the other resting on his sword behind him.

'That's all very well,' Five said, 'except I don't know where she is.'

He stared at her, and then frowned.

'Mmm,' he said. 'See, that's why I'm not the leader. 'Cos now I dunno what to think.'

'Play cards much, do you,' Five said.

'Not very often,' he said with a smile. 'Easier to just ask people to give me their money.'

'And do they give it to you?'

'Surprisingly often, yeah.'

Five eyed him for a moment.

'Well,' she said, 'you gonna beat it out of me?'

'No,' he said. 'If you do know Freya, then we're on your side.'

'Think we'll just wait till your boss gets here,' Five said, 'and we'll see what he has to say, eh?'

She patted him on the shoulder and walked over to the shelf by the fire where the bottles were kept, keeping an eye on him.

'She,' said Owyn Durberry.

'What?'

'Our leader. She's a she.'

Strange, Five thought.

'Your leader's a woman?'

'Yeah. More of a girl, really. Well, no, no, she's a woman.'

'How'd that happen.'

'Funny story, to be honest,' Owyn said, but then there came from the hall the sound of the front door opening. Five kept her back to the wall, keeping her eye both on Owyn and Paul, and glancing at the door to the hall.

'That your friend,' she said.

Owyn watched the doorway, his hand on his sword.

'Maybe not the friend you're thinking of,' said a voice, 'but still a friend, no?'

A broad man walked into the room, dressed like Owyn for the road. Two men slouched in behind him. One had a large head wooden box slung over his shoulder by a strap.

The first man was looking at Owyn and grinning. He had a thick thatch of red hair, a dense beard, and a sunburned face.

'Well,' said Owyn, smiling, 'fuck me sideways. Red Fred.'

'You know this man?'

Five looked at Paul, who was looking worriedly at Owyn.

'He knows me well,' said the new arrival. 'We've seen a few things, haven't we, you useless pisspot?'

'We certainly have, you dog-fucking crap artist,' said Owyn, beaming at him. 'What brings you here?'

'A country ramble for the state of my health,' said the man. He looked at the other two, nodded at Paul, looked at Five curiously.

'This idiot has the manners of a louse,' he said. 'Manfred Rosso, at your service.'

'Paul Beckhulder,' said Paul. Manfred Rosso gave him another nod, slightly more curt than the first one, Five thought.

'And, miss...?' he said tentatively.

'Don't have a name,' she said.

'You don't? Everyone has a name,' said Manfred Rosso. 'Unless you just don't want people to know it.'

'Aren't we getting a bit ahead with the poking and prodding,' said Owyn. 'Let's have a drink and catch up.'

'I will, I will,' said Manfred, coming forward. 'I haven't forgot my manners. How've you been?'

'I won't lie, mate,' said Owyn, 'it's been ups and downs lately.'

'You don't say?'

'More downs than ups. But it's good to see you.'

'You too,' said Manfred Rosso. Owyn backed over to the table, still smiling at Manfred Rosso, reached down and picked up the bottle.

'Here, gorgeous,' he said, 'throw us a goblet. This bloke's a mate.'

'Get it yourself,' said Five. Owyn gave her a look of comical outrage and rolled his eyes at Manfred Rosso, moving over to the wall as he did so. He picked a pewter goblet off the shelf and tossed it at Manfred, who caught it one-handed.

'These young things,' Owyn said. 'First you can't tell if they're a boy or a girl, then the lip they give you? Shocking.'

'She's a girl,' Manfred said, glancing at Five.

'That's what I said,' Owyn said. 'But I can't get a straight answer.'

'Cumpoyn,' said Manfred, 'you're a good man in a tight spot, but I wouldn't trust you to be the fellow to keep me out of the tight spot in the first place.'

'No,' Owyn said, 'planning's never been one of me strong points.'

He walked over to Manfred, holding out a hand. Manfred handed him the goblet and he sloshed drink into it and handed it back. Manfred took it, and Owyn immediately walked backwards to his seat, keeping his eye on Manfred the whole way.

Manfred drank, and raised the cup in salute. Owyn lifted his back.

'Mmm,' said Manfred. 'Good. No, to tell the truth, old friend... I'm not here for my health.'

'Oh no?'

'Nope. It's business.'

'Oh, well, don't talk about it if you don't want to.'

'But I do,' Manfred said. 'It's business with you three.'

Five looked from him, to Paul Beckhulder, to Owyn Durberry, who was sitting in the leather chair looking puzzled.

'Dunno what that could be,' he said, 'since we're not a three.'

'That won't do, Owyn,' said Manfred. He turned to Paul Beckhulder.

'You gave your name to me as Paul Beckhulder, sir, yes?'

'I did,' said Paul, looking pale.

Manfred turned back to Owyn.

'I have to tell you, Owyn, that I have it on good report that you and this young woman are witnesses to the killing, by Paul Beckhulder, of Gavan Stuke of Oakisland, in the inn of Martin Shockness, on the night of the fifteenth of the Belltower last.'

'We have never met this young woman before tonight,' said Paul.

'Paul,' said Owyn, no longer smiling, 'shush.'

'Don't shush him,' said Five, 'it's true.'

'Do you deny that you killed Gavan Stuke?' Manfred said.

'Was that his name?' Paul said.

'Paul!' Owyn said. 'Fuck's sake! Stop answering his questions!'

'But, Owyn,' Paul said, 'apart from the young woman, it-'

'Nothing happened, Fred,' said Owyn. 'Nothing. Got the wrong bloke.'

'Friend,' said Manfred Rosso to Owyn, 'I have been looking for you for six months. Now, you're not bad, I'll grant that. Whosever idea it was to shave the bookman's beard, that's some persuasion there. But you would need to do a little more than that. I mean, you're still you.'

'I've not been down south in a year or so,' Owyn said.

'I know that's not true. I have the word of a lad in Venceborn that he talked to your lady here, although she's not quite how he made her out to be.'

'I told you,' Five said, 'I've never met them before.'

'You want to play it like that?'

Manfred Rosso got up and walked over to her, his eyes wide, impatient.

'For real, little girl? I am looking for a bookman, a man who if not Owyn Durberry is a twin of his with the same name, and a girl from Hargest. I track the first two to a bothy and lo and behold, they're talking to a girl from Hargest. You tell me how you're not the right one. Do you deny having been to Venceborn?'

'No,' Five said, wary.

'You don't. And while you were there, did you or didn't you talk to a kid called Iago Safiz?'

'Yeah.'

'You did? And yet you still deny that you're the girl I'm looking for.'

'Cause I'm not her.'

'Okay, then, so answer me this: if you're not her, why are you here?'

Fuck.

'I'm here on me own,' Five said.

Manfred Rosso slapped her in the face, not all that hard, just hard enough to be very annoying.

'Hey,' he said. 'Don't treat me like I'm stupid.'

'Fred,' said Owyn, 'leave her alone. She's telling the truth.'

'Not you, Owyn,' he said, 'come on. Do I look like the biggest dickhead in the world?'

'She's telling the truth,' Owyn said, 'and when the real girl gets here, you'll take that back, and what's more, you'll apologise to her.'

'So, this is some kind of thing where you want me to hang around waiting for someone?'

Manfred Rosso looked pissed off, and he walked around in a small circle puffing to himself for a moment.

'Well, you just got here,' Owyn said. 'It's night. Are you gonna take people back south at this time of day, in this weather? There's wolves out there.'

'Maybe,' said Manfred Rosso, 'if I want to.'

'Don't be such a dry old shit,' said Owyn. 'Sit down, come on. Let's catch up.'

'Owyn,' said Manfred, 'so help me, shut up. I am thinking.'

'You, thinking,' Owyn said, amused. 'Careful. You'll sprain something.'

'Watch it,' said Manfred, stopping and pointing at him. 'Just watch your mouth, cause friend or no friend, I will shut you up if I have to.'

Manfred Rosso went over to a chair and sat in it heavily.

There was a long silence.

'Fred,' said Owyn quietly.

'What.'

'So, you're here to take the bookman down south, and have him tried for what, for murder?'

'Yes.'

'Uh-huh.' Owyn paused. 'Got a bit of a problem with that.'

Manfred looked up at him sharply.

'What?'

'See,' said Owyn, 'I've sworn an oath to defend him. So, if you want to take him anywhere, bit awkward.'

'An oath?' Manfred Rosso looked ever more annoyed. 'What is this shit? Since when do you do things like that?'

'Since not long,' said Owyn, looking sheepish. 'But, can't break it, type of thing. I've sort of turned over a new leaf. Does mean that I can't let you take him.'

'We're taking you as well,' Manfred said.

'For my part,' said Paul Beckhulder, nervously, 'I have to say that I cannot let you take Owyn Durberry, either. We all three swore oaths of mutual protection.'

'What,' said Manfred, 'you've all sworn to protect each other?'

'I haven't,' said Five.

'So much for your oaths,' said Manfred Rosso to Owyn, jerking a contemptuous thumb at Five.

Five gritted her teeth.

'For the last fucking time,' she said, 'I haven't sworn a fucking oath to fucking protect these fucking wankers, because I've never fucking met them before tonight, you fucking twat-faced shit-for-brains.'

Manfred Rosso stared at her. Owyn grinned.

'No need to shilly-shally, love,' he said. 'Tell us what you really think.'

'This isn't a joking thing, Durberry,' said Manfred Rosso. 'This is a big job, and I intend to get it right. So less of the funny ha-ha, from you, would be appreciated.'

'I'm not joking, Fred,' said Owyn, standing up and drawing his sword. 'Sorry, mate. I've turned a corner. I don't piss about, now. Last time I did, I did something I had cause to regret. So, you want him, you go through me.'

Manfred Rosso glared at him.

'Then, okay,' he said. 'I go through you.'

One of the men at the door turned and called out the doorway in a tongue Five didn't recognise. And, one by one, the men trooped into the bothy.

They were all more or less big, they were all calm, but they all looked pissed off from having to wait outside in the hall.

After they had entered and had taken their places with weapons drawn, Five noticed a boy of no more than thirteen or fourteen slink in after them. He was dirty and looked underfed and scared, and he had no weapon, and he hung back in the corner.

Five looked at Owyn. The last traces of a smile had vanished from his face.

'Oh, well,' he said, 'since you insist.'

And he went for them.

It wasn't pretty. Five had to give the bloke credit, he really went for them, but there were thirteen of them and one of him, and although he was playing for keeps, all they had to do was grab him and disarm him and beat the shit out of him and it was all over in a few minutes. He did get a few blows in, and one man at the end of it had a nasty cut on his brow, and there were a couple of bloody noses among Manfred Rosso's company, but in the time it took to light a pipe, Owyn Durberry was unconscious on the floor with a swollen face, his breath whistling through the snot and blood bubbling out of his nose.

Manfred Rosso, who'd personally felled him with the final punch, flexed his fingers and looked at Five and Paul, with a hint of apology in his green eyes.

'What was I supposed to do,' he said.

'Don't look at me,' Five said. 'Not my problem.'

'No, no,' said Manfred. 'Well. Probably not. I just had to shut him up so I could get down to business.'

He turned to Paul Beckhulder.

'Sir,' he said, 'we were saying. You gave your name to me as Paul Beckhulder.'

'Yes,' said Paul.

'I see,' he said.

'It's not true,' Paul said.

'I think it is,' said Manfred pleasantly.

'I mean it's not true about the young woman,' said Paul. 'I have never met this young woman before tonight.'

'But the rest?'

Paul hesitated, and Five silently begged him to deny it, and keep denying it.

'Yes,' he said. 'I did kill him.'

'Well,' said Manfred, 'your honesty is commendable, and it makes my job a lot easier, but I'm afraid it goes very ill with you, sir, for I have been authorised by the family of this Stuke boy to bring you back to their estate, to be tried for his murder. And I can use what force is necessary to do so.'

'Well,' said Paul Beckhulder after a pause, 'you must do what you have to do.'

'What are you fucking talking about?' Five said.

'You've got the wrong man. Look at him. He's got arms like twigs. He couldn't kill anyone.'

'I did,' said Paul. 'It was an accident, though.'

'Accident or no,' said Manfred Rosso, 'his family wants justice.'

'You mean they want me to swing from the nearest tree.'

'Yes, sir,' said Manfred Rosso, and he didn't look like he enjoyed saying so. He turned to Five.

'You were there, miss,' he said. 'It would be better not to make a fuss.'

'For the last time, I had nothing to do with it,' Five said. 'I have no idea what you're on about, and if any of you cunts touch me, you'll fucking regret it.'

'I have Owyn Durberry travelling with a bookman named Paul Beckhulder and an unidentified woman of Hargest,' Manfred said curtly. 'You're a woman, you're from Hargest and you're here with them. So stop messing about, and come along.'

A man headed towards her, reaching out for her.

'In a pig's arse, I will,' she said, and put her sword at the ready. The man hesitated.

'Now,' said Manfred, 'don't be silly.'

'This is not my fight,' she said. 'You have the wrong woman. You'd best let me go.'

'Just disarm her and tie her up, Gallo,' said Manfred.

Gallo drew his sword and advanced on Five. Just as he got close, Five grabbed a bottle off the shelf next to her and threw it at him. He ducked, and she stepped forward and swung at his leg.

It was a good swing and she had to pull hard to yank the sword out. He roared with pain and staggered, bleeding heavily.

'Now,' she said, 'fuck off.'

'Gallo, you bloody idiot,' said Manfred. 'See to that.' He looked at Five.

'You're fast,' he said. 'Where did you learn that?'

'None of your business.'

'Search the bothy,' he said.

Shit. Freya.

Five screamed, and jumped onto a table and lunged at Manfred.

He was surprisingly quick on his feet. Not quick enough, though. Her sword sank into the flesh on his shoulder, and he cursed.

He pulled his own shortsword and threw her off, and she fell and rolled and stood, only to find him coming at her. She parried him but she knew that she was edging closer to his men.

And then it hit her, a blazing pain in the kidney as one of them punched her from behind. She gasped, and then an arm was round her neck and her sword was knocked out ot her hand. She reached up to throw the bloke, but Manfred bore down on her with a face like a bad August sky and punched her in the stomach.

And then it went on for a bit, with him punching her alternately in the stomach and face, and she struggled but was getting weaker, and she had blood in her mouth and in her eyes.

But then he stopped, and she hung in the grip of the man behind her and spat out blood.

'I didn't want to do that,' he said. 'But I can't have you doing your nonsense. So. Behave yourself.'

'Get fucked,' Five mumbled.

He winced and flexed his left arm and pulled back his collar to look at the wound. Five stood on shaky legs, ears ringing, skull throbbing, and spat a little more blood out of her mouth.

Don't think more than one tooth broken. Fuck. Breathe in, breathe out. Be calm. Don't get into a state. Dozen of them, one you.

'Shit,' Manfred Rosso muttered. 'Look, tie her up, search her and sit her down.'

Five's wrists were grabbed and tied behind her back. These boys were a lot more professional than the guards at Venceborn city chamber.

Then one of them searched her, sending his fingers inside Five's clothes. He felt inside Five's shirt and as his hands went over her chest he glanced at her and gave a wink. She stared back at him.

Five was thinking of the little knife Marten Beka had given her. It was in a small pocket that she'd cut and sewn for herself inside her trews, close to the seam where it wouldn't bounce off her leg. She tried to look bored as he moved his hands down her waist, and then reached in the back of her trews and his hands roved over her arse.

Wanker. Five glared at him, resentful. She'd thought she was beyond humiliation, but it was the little satisfied smile he wore while doing it that stung her.

Just, be calm. He's nearly done.

Then he thrust his hand inside the front of Five's trews and sent his hand into her crotch, and Five saw the look of disgust come over her face and he whipped his hand out like he'd been stung.

'What the fuck?!'

He actually wiped his hand on Five's shirt, and then slapped Five's face. Five gave a gasp of shock, which was more embarrassing than him touching her. It took a moment for the sting to kick in and when it did, it bloomed over Five's cheek like a swiftly rising sun.

'What is it,' said Manfred Rosso irritably, rubbing his shoulder.

'She's got a cock,' said the guard, stepping away from Five, his face like he'd been sucking vinegar.

'She can't,' said Manfred.

'She's a freak,' said the guard.

'Did I say you could hit her, Calvi,' said Manfred.

'She's a freak! I was searching her and I tell you, she's got men's bits down there.'

Manfred sighed and looked at Five.

'I apologise for this dickhead,' he said, 'but tell me, is this true?'

'It's not a cock,' Five said. 'Just looks a bit like one.'

'I touched it!' The guard looked petulant. 'You think I don't know what a cock feels like?'

It was one of those times when he didn't realise what he'd said till it was well out of his mouth. The others started to laugh, and he looked more pissed off than ever. Even Five couldn't help but smile.

Which was a mistake, because Calvi glanced at her and saw her smile, and in his annoyance he slapped her again.

Manfred got up, came over to him, spun him around with his good hand and grabbed him by the throat.

'You hit anyone again without me saying you could,' he said, 'and I'll have your balls, boy. This isn't a turf war, this is business. Now, stop being such a fucking child.'

Calvi was struggling and choking and Manfred let him go, then turned to Five.

'I apologise,' he said, 'again.'

'It's alright,' said Five, mumbling through swollen lips. 'I'll tell you what. The day I found out it wasn't a cock, I felt the same way.'

Manfred smiled.

'I like you,' he said. 'So tell me, out of curiosity, if it's not a cock, what is it?'

'Just bigger than normal.'

'Ah. So, you're not a freak.'

'I wouldn't say that.'

'Well, it's a strange world. You look like you could use a drink. Let's all have a drink, boys. Merevus and Fenelon, tie up the mercenary.'

'Are you not returning us to the south?' Paul said, as one of the men came forward with ropes and began to tie it around Owyn Durberry's ankles.

'You like funny jokes?' Manfred said. 'It's filthy out there. I'm not riding fifty miles to the nearest inn when we could stay the night here. I hear they fixed up a bath upstairs. Have you seen it?' He turned to Five.

'Haven't been up,' Five said.

'I haven't had a bath in oh so long,' Manfred said. 'I may treat myself later.'

'So, what,' Five said, 'we just sit here with you all night and then go in the morning?'

'Is that so bad? We are good company.'

What the fuck is going on with the search, Five thought. Surely they must have found Freya. What state is she in?

Then again, Five thought, even an unconscious Freya would make them more likely to believe that I'm not their girl. Dunno if they'd still let us go, but...

'Hey,' Manfred said as the men began to choose bottles from the shelf and uncork them, 'where are we with searching this place? Who went?'

'Nizzi,' said one of the men.

'Where is he? Is the place empty? Report.'

'He's not back yet,' said the guard, and the room went quiet and everyone looked at one another for a moment.

'All right,' said Manfred. 'Somebody go up and find him. You, Kefthedes. And take care.'

Kefthedes was one of the larger men. He nodded and went out to the hall. Gallo, the man whose leg she'd cut into, was being helped to stand by one of the other men, who helped him limp out to the kitchen.

Two men upstairs, one man down with a leg wound, one man with a shoulder wound, Five thought. Nine fully healthy, I think? Plus the kid, what's he doing here anyway? Still too many, and me with my hands tied.

Five glanced down at Owyn Durberry on the floor, as two men looped the rope around his ankles. Pity that one seems a bit of a lummock.

'What's your poison,' said Manfred.

'I'm all right, thanks,' Five said. 'Just some water.'

'No no no. Have a drink with us. Come on.'

'Water, please,' Five said stolidly.

'Look, handsome,' Manfred said, 'we're gonna have a drink, and I advise you do too, because come the end of the night, my boys could get frisky, and you could be glad of not remembering the next day what happened.'

'That how it is,' Five said, feeling cold.

'Now now,' Manfred said, 'nothing too awful. We're not monsters. But a drink or two makes everyone a bit more willing.'

'Not me,' said Five. 'Nothing against men, but I don't go for them.'

'Sounds like a challenge,' one of them said, the tall, good-looking bloke with the wooden box slung over his shoulder.

'All right, let's drop it for now,' said Manfred, raising a pacifying hand. 'The night is young.'

'If you'll drop it for good,' Five said, 'I'd appreciate that.'

'Maybe,' Manfred said. 'Come, sit by me, girl.'

Five was marched over and sat down next to Manfred on a long couch.

This was bloody weird.

The two men who'd helped Gallo to the kitchen came back in. Manfred poured himself a goblet of dark wine. He poured a smaller one and held it up to Five's lips.

'Drink,' he said.

'That an order.'

'Yes. This is a '94 Mancennes, you idiot. I'm spoiling you.'

She opened her mouth and he poured it in. She sucked on it and swallowed. She could taste it through the blood in her mouth.

'I'd have said '90,' she said. 'The '94 was bigger. Bit faded, that.'

He looked at her and laughed, and it turned into a cough and he clutched his wounded shoulder.

'Well, look at you,' he said. 'Are you bullshitting me?'

'I used to be an army cook,' she said. 'The baron likes his wine.'

'He does,' Manfred said. 'Eh, Fenelon, how are you getting on there?'

'Almost there,' said one of the men from the floor. 'We just need to-'

And he gasped and doubled up as the mercenary's knee connected with his groin.

The other man started to reach for his own knife when the mercenary's foot flew up and booted him in the face. He fell over. The men started to flock over to the mercenary, who was already getting up. They soon dragged him down again, but the hall had emptied.

'Paul!' the mercenary shouted, 'go! Run!'

Manfred grabbed Five by her bonds and held her in place, but she saw Paul Beckhulder, whose path to the door had suddenly been cleared by the descent of the other men about the mercenary, break into a flat run for the hall. A guard reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his coat and another tried to block him, but Paul Beckhulder swerved and shrugged off his coat, and shoved them, and yanked open the door and ran out to the hall.

'For fuck's sake!' Manfred bellowed. 'Get after him! Hold that idiot down and get out there!'

Two men ran after him, but the remaining seven were occupied in holding down and beating the shit out of the flailing mercenary.

Five found it hard to watch. He'd already taken a beating, but he'd pulled a neat little sham in getting them off their guard enough for him to distract them from the bookman. The mercenary was bigger than any of them, and strong, but his face was getting bloodier and bloodier. Then Five saw a knife flash in one of the guard's hands.

'Don't cut him!' Manfred ordered. 'He's a witness! We kill him, the bounty is less!'

'You're bounty hunters?' Five was disgusted.

'Of course we are,' Manfred said, 'what did you think? Leave him, tie him up and two more of you, get out there and find the damn bookman.'

'Never met a bounty hunter,' Five said. 'Thought you belonged to that dead bloke's family.'

'We don't belong to them,' Manfred said. 'We have a contract with them. That's why we haven't just killed you all and strung the bookman up. So count yourself lucky.'

'Oh yeah,' said Five. 'I come to spend the night in a bothy, I get mistaken for some tart, and when I try to stop you from taking me prisoner, I get the shit kicked out of me. How blessed am I.'

'Don't annoy me, girl,' Manfred growled, flexing his bad arm. 'You've already annoyed me. Don't do it any more.'

He strode out to the hall.

*

Paul Beckhulder was lying on his stomach in the wet dirt beneath the hedge. He could hear the men moving through the undergrowth, and he saw the light from the lamps they carried.

His teeth chattered and he clamped a hand over his own mouth.

One of the lights seemed to be moving his way. As quietly as he could, he slithered backwards out of the hedge, ignoring the branches that scraped at his back, and ran, bent double, across the field towards the low wall. He climbed awkwardly over the wall and headed down the road. After a moment, he saw ahead in the rainy darkness a shadow, silhouetted against the moonlit cloud. He stopped and crouched, and the shadow grew nearer.

Then a voice said 'Paul?'

It was Solveig. His heart leaped and he ran over to her, motioning for her to get down.

'What are you doing,' she said, concerned. She was holding in one hand a half-eaten apple. 'Why are you out here? What's happening?'

'Bounty hunters,' he said breathlessly.

'What? Bounty hunters?'

'They have tracked us from the south. Their leader is a man called Manfred Rosso. Durberry knows him. They want to arrest me for the murder of the boy who attacked you.'

'What is this?'

'Solveig,' he said, grasping her hands, 'please, listen to me.'

'Tell me what happened,' she said. 'You've been to the bothy? Is Freya there?'

'I do not know. We arrived to find the only person there was a young woman from Hargest. We were talking to her when some men arrived. Owyn knew their leader, but the leader said he'd come to take me down south to face trial for that boy in the inn, and when Owyn intervened, they beat him. He did his best, but there were too many. I cannot go, Solveig. I will be executed. There will be no mercy for a bookman accused of murder.'

Solveig peered into the darkness. He turned and looked, and he could see the dim lights still moving, and hear the cries of the men.

'How many of them are there?'

'I don't know, maybe twelve, thirteen,' he said, 'though the young woman has badly wounded one. They beat her, too. Two are searching the bothy, even now. If Freya is there, they will find her.'

He looked around.

'But where is your horse?' he said, dismayed.

'It threw a shoe,' she said. 'I had to kill it.'

'But how are we going to get away?' he said, panic rising in him.

Solveig stood still for a long moment.

Why are you not hurrying, he thought, why are you not protecting me, as we swore to protect one another?

She stared into the darkness, looking at the dim lights moving, and in the moonlight he could see her wet and dirty face, the dried blood on her forehead, her short-cropped hair. She looked tired, but alert.

*

This day and night, she thought, I have crippled a man's hand.

I have had to kill my horse.

I have let a man debase me, in return for a plate of food.

I have fallen so far.

Let's see how far down this goes.

*

She looked at him, and there was a chill in her eyes that worried him.

She tossed the apple aside.

'Sorry, bookman,' she said.

He opened his mouth to ask what for, and she struck him on the head with the hilt of her knife.