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Back in The Fortune of War I found Ordesky skulking in the cellar. He said that counting stock helped him steady his nerves. He’d been hiding behind stacked ale barrels only I was nice enough to pretend I didn’t notice his cowardice. “Finished counting? You coming up with me?”
Solemnly he nodded and followed.
Sheriff Bannin had been summoned and Bent and Smidgen carried The Green Man round from the south gate of the city wall.
Hunger sure had hit him hard and he was badly injured. There was a hole in the main trunk of his body, deep and splintered and oozing gold coloured sap that was as sticky as glue if you got any on your hands or clothes. His tangle of branches lay always about, limp, unresponsive, occasionally twitchy, but because of his unravelled state he couldn’t fit inside the tavern.
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Not long after the Witch broke free from Smidgen. It had discarded its damaged and dented hat and was hiding somewhere in The Fortune of War. It was badly injured, maybe a day away from death, but still capable of causing some grief.
Smidgen fitted when the Witch crawled out from his mouth. It was a globular thing of surprising speed and was gone before any of us could react. A cool glass of water and an all too brief sit down and Smidgen’s fit was a thing of bad memory for he was back up and ready to kill it all over again. Once we found it. I was confident it would still be in the Fortune. The old tavern was full of darkened nooks and shadowy crannies.
“Whatever happens stay close to Bent. Damn thing could be anywhere. Look out for each other,” I said to them both. “And don’t eat it again.” That one aimed at Smidg’.
“I won’t,” replied Smidgen.
We had a look all over the tavern but couldn’t find Hat, Witch or whatever it was. It would be skulking in a forgotten corner somewhere, like an old fat spider, resting, healing, and waiting. Watching.
“Keep looking,” I told them both whilst checking under a cot. Mouse shit and cat hair was all I saw.
Suddenly it dropped down on a strand of silvery light and I hit it with my head as I stood back up.
“What the...” I started to say when the Witch uttered an incantation and we three, Bent, Smidgen and I, felt the force of its magic. I threw up my hands to cover my face and when I next looked the Witch was gone. Reddish brown muck covered the floor; sidled up the walls and splattered across the ceiling and where it touched our boots it fixed us solidly to the spot. The Witch travelled down through the tavern unimpeded by that which it trailed and we were powerless to stop it.
“It’s making for the door. Don’t let it out. Don’t let it escape,” Bent protested but, like me and Smidgen, was stuck fast to the floor too.
I jumped on the spot, never moved an inch forward. “What is this?”
“Blood,” said Bent.
Smidgen roared with frustration, and thrashed and rocked and beat against the walls so that his anger could be heard streets away. With great power he managed to loosen a leg until, matched against his immense strength, the congealed blood weakened and it finally popped free. He worked on the other leg and grabbed it with both hands and pulled and coerced it until it too came free.
“Stop it getting out,” Bent raged and Smidgen bounded down the stairs. Unhindered by the blood he moved quickly.
The muck was dissipating, its sticky properties weakening and finally I too broke free and I hared after Smidgen, screaming, “don’t eat it.”
The Witch was moving fast for a wounded thing and was on the ground floor in seconds. It hobbled across to the door, was less than three feet away from it when I reached the top of the stairs. The door swung open and Captain Tankready filled the opening.
“Don’t let it out,” I managed to say, hammering down the stairs at a reckless pace.
Smidgen dived forward to grab the Witch but missed it and I realised there was no way I could reach it in time. It would escape. A swish of polished metal later and the Captain had the Witch pinned to the floor with his sword.
Sheriff Bannin and the Neveren Captain arrived with a handful of city watchmen. The watchmen constituted soldiers in these dark days.
Tankready had been given a mishmash of armour scavenged from dead watchmen’s lockers. The man was used to grander attire but carried it off well and looked quite menacing.
I acknowledged him with a grunt.
“It took me weeks to fight my way out of MarTaiburn the Turned and all I get from you is a grunt.”
I grunted again, just to annoy.
Bent joined us from the sticky blood upstairs. He pulled the Witch off of the sword tip and I watched as he started pulling it apart with his clean hands. Its screams filled the air as he killed it.
“Turned killing Turned?” Tankready sounded almost disgusted.
“Don’t you start,” I said. I’d decided there and then to really annoy him. “Bent has been more help than a Neveren.” By the gods I was fickle. One second Bent killed all the Neverens and I hated him, the next he saved us from the Tracker and I liked him.
“Bent? Charming name I’m sure and most befitting too.” The old Captain looked him up and down suspiciously whilst Bent, oblivious to the criticism, continued ripping the Witch apart.
“With the Witch killed we’ve just got to kill the Turned in the tower, and the Golem.” Smidgen picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself down.
“Let me guess, you’re called Fat, am I right? Or is it Ugly?”
Bent had Tankready held around the throat and thrown against a wall quicker than I could blink. I was tempted, for long seconds to let him snap the others neck but even Tankready could have a role to play in securing the city. I called Bent off.
Reluctantly he let the old Captain fall to the floor.
“It’s the Golem. It’s four streets away from The Eagle and the Rose. Despite having no head someone or something is directing it towards the bell tower and my every instinct is telling me we have to stop it.” Bannin was busting with fear as usual and stepped over the Captain to be closer to me. Like my mere proximity could allay.
“Yes Bannin, muster a force of men. See if there is some way we can block off the Golem’s route, or slow it down or stop it altogether. It won’t be so dangerous now it hasn’t got Hat.” As I finished speaking I looked across to the Witch, or rather, the glowing red pool of pulp that had once been it. Bent was good at unravelling life, literally. “Bent, get on the roof, see if there’s anything else you can do for The Green Man. Get him up and fighting fit. We’ll need all the help we can get if we’re going to kill every bad Turned in Never.”
“You mentioned evacuating the quarters?” Ordesky, timid as a mouse, broached the subject. I knew the thought of killing every bad Turned in Never would worry him and it was about all he could do to remain cogent and standing upright.
I ignored him. “Smidgen, get our horses ready. We’ll take a quarter each. Best start with rescuing the warrens.” Had I sounded desperate? I bloody felt it. Good old Flendin logic, that and self-preservation. Never warrens were the best in the land and a life without them didn’t seem worth living so we’d save them first. “I’ll take Walled district,” I said as that was where the ladies lived and traded. What a hero I was.
“What about me?” Captain Tankready cawed from his position on the floor. He was still rubbing at his throat. I guessed Bent must really have hurt him. “Have you got a task for a Captain of the Neverens, thief man?”
“Yes, shut up and keep out of the way.”