hanging down as if I were too scared or weak to do anything else. Wasn’t far from the truth, but I could move my wrists a little. With luck, maybe I could slide a hand free. No clue what I’d do after that, but every mile walked started with a step.
“What’s taking them so long?” Fieso said after an hour. He jumped to his feet. “How hard is it to count out some coins and put them in a chest?”
I guess he’d never tried to count to five thousand before.
The driver didn’t seem as concerned. “They gotta find guards to leave with all that money. Baseeri thieves’ll just rob it if they get the chance.”
That was a surprise. With their dark hair, I’d assumed they were Baseeri.
“Hey,” Fieso called to the gate soldiers. The same woman as before looked up. “When’s he getting here?”
She shrugged.
“I hate these people.”
The sun was halfway to the horizon when a carriage rolled up.
“About time,” Fieso muttered. The driver yawned and stayed on the bench.
The carriage door opened and an armored man stepped out. Not the usual silver chain armor the soldiers in Geveg wore though. This was dark and looked heavier. Next, a woman appeared.
Vyand.
“You got my money?” Fieso called, his hands on his hips.
“Your money?” she said, a cat’s grin on her face. A second man in armor left the carriage. The two men on the driver’s bench climbed down as well. The woman soldier from the gate walked over, followed by the man she’d spoken to earlier.
I had a feeling nobody in that carriage worked for the magistrate, and my guts said the two soldiers at the gate were working for Vyand. Bribes paid better than bureaucrats.
Fieso dropped his arms and tensed. The driver must have realized something was up, because he got off the bench. Vyand strolled toward them, her armored bodyguards in her wake.
“I have their money.” She pulled a pouch off her belt and tossed it to the woman soldier. She caught it in one hand and nodded once. “My thanks again.”
“Always a pleasure.”
Fieso’s hands clenched. “You trying to cheat me?”
“You stole my property and accuse me of cheating you ?” Vyand tsked. “I’ll take my Shifter now.”
“I want my money first.”
“Sorry, it’s my money.”
Fieso dived at her, a knife suddenly in his hand. He sank it up to the hilt in her side and she cried out, fingers pressed against her stomach. Blood seeped through the cloth.
The driver drew his sword as Vyand’s men drew theirs. All except…
One of the armored men dropped to a knee, placing one hand over Vyand’s wound and the other on her forehead. His eyes narrowed, his cheek twitched, then the color returned to her cheeks. He pressed his bloody hand against his armor.
His blue armor. Pynvium blue.
SEVEN
S aints and sinners, a healer-soldier in pynvium armor! This is what the Duke was doing with his Healers? Training them to kill?
It was awful. It was…I shuddered. Terrifying. How could you kill soldiers who could heal their own wounds and push the injuries into their armor? They’d be unstoppable.
Fieso and the driver were clearly the better fighters, but it didn’t seem to matter. Fieso’s knife slipped between the armor plates, drew blood, and had to have pierced organs, but the healer-soldiers just pushed the pain into the pynvium and kept fighting. They neither dodged nor danced, weren’t light on their feet like Fieso. They didn’t have to be.
The other men helped Vyand to her feet. She was pale but steady. All three stood back and watched the healer-soldiers, as did a few of the gate soldiers. Why were they fighting for Vyand? She couldn’t have hired them. The Duke would never give weapons like that to anyone. Was he helping Vyand? But why? Wasn’t paying her enough?
The driver screamed and went down. The healer-soldier ran him through, then smiled like he’d enjoyed doing it.
No one could stand against the Duke with an army like this. No one.
I wiggled my wrists
“What’s taking them so long?” Fieso said after an hour. He jumped to his feet. “How hard is it to count out some coins and put them in a chest?”
I guess he’d never tried to count to five thousand before.
The driver didn’t seem as concerned. “They gotta find guards to leave with all that money. Baseeri thieves’ll just rob it if they get the chance.”
That was a surprise. With their dark hair, I’d assumed they were Baseeri.
“Hey,” Fieso called to the gate soldiers. The same woman as before looked up. “When’s he getting here?”
She shrugged.
“I hate these people.”
The sun was halfway to the horizon when a carriage rolled up.
“About time,” Fieso muttered. The driver yawned and stayed on the bench.
The carriage door opened and an armored man stepped out. Not the usual silver chain armor the soldiers in Geveg wore though. This was dark and looked heavier. Next, a woman appeared.
Vyand.
“You got my money?” Fieso called, his hands on his hips.
“Your money?” she said, a cat’s grin on her face. A second man in armor left the carriage. The two men on the driver’s bench climbed down as well. The woman soldier from the gate walked over, followed by the man she’d spoken to earlier.
I had a feeling nobody in that carriage worked for the magistrate, and my guts said the two soldiers at the gate were working for Vyand. Bribes paid better than bureaucrats.
Fieso dropped his arms and tensed. The driver must have realized something was up, because he got off the bench. Vyand strolled toward them, her armored bodyguards in her wake.
“I have their money.” She pulled a pouch off her belt and tossed it to the woman soldier. She caught it in one hand and nodded once. “My thanks again.”
“Always a pleasure.”
Fieso’s hands clenched. “You trying to cheat me?”
“You stole my property and accuse me of cheating you ?” Vyand tsked. “I’ll take my Shifter now.”
“I want my money first.”
“Sorry, it’s my money.”
Fieso dived at her, a knife suddenly in his hand. He sank it up to the hilt in her side and she cried out, fingers pressed against her stomach. Blood seeped through the cloth.
The driver drew his sword as Vyand’s men drew theirs. All except…
One of the armored men dropped to a knee, placing one hand over Vyand’s wound and the other on her forehead. His eyes narrowed, his cheek twitched, then the color returned to her cheeks. He pressed his bloody hand against his armor.
His blue armor. Pynvium blue.
SEVEN
S aints and sinners, a healer-soldier in pynvium armor! This is what the Duke was doing with his Healers? Training them to kill?
It was awful. It was…I shuddered. Terrifying. How could you kill soldiers who could heal their own wounds and push the injuries into their armor? They’d be unstoppable.
Fieso and the driver were clearly the better fighters, but it didn’t seem to matter. Fieso’s knife slipped between the armor plates, drew blood, and had to have pierced organs, but the healer-soldiers just pushed the pain into the pynvium and kept fighting. They neither dodged nor danced, weren’t light on their feet like Fieso. They didn’t have to be.
The other men helped Vyand to her feet. She was pale but steady. All three stood back and watched the healer-soldiers, as did a few of the gate soldiers. Why were they fighting for Vyand? She couldn’t have hired them. The Duke would never give weapons like that to anyone. Was he helping Vyand? But why? Wasn’t paying her enough?
The driver screamed and went down. The healer-soldier ran him through, then smiled like he’d enjoyed doing it.
No one could stand against the Duke with an army like this. No one.
I wiggled my wrists
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