THEY passed the waystone marking the border between the Suderfeld and the Cordral. Ctenka should have felt elated leaving the foreign land behind but he still gripped his reins tightly, anxiety eating away at him. How could he feel any relief when he was travelling with murderers and rapers?
There were seven of them, each dishevelled, all still manacled at the hands. Ermund had seen fit to leave behind the chain that bound them all together and so far the threat of what would happen if they ran seemed to be working. Still, they made Ctenka nervous. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded a bit if any of them made a break for it and fled into the desert. He would have been glad to see the back of them. As it was, Ermund seemed determined to take them all the way back to Dunrun, and there was nothing Ctenka could say to change his mind.
Two of the men were the roughest individuals Ctenka had ever laid eyes on. They both had shaved heads, thick stubble sprouting from thicker chins. Their dark, squinting eyes roved everywhere, always searching for their next chance to escape. Or maybe to kill.
Behind them walked a thin weaselly article with no teeth. He twitched with every step, grumbling to himself like a crazed lunatic. Ctenka only caught the odd word of profanity, and did his best not to listen.
Then there was a young lad with a sorry expression. He was about Ctenka’s age and it was difficult to see what a boy so innocent looking could have done to end up in this company. Ctenka reckoned you could never tell about some people.
At the back of the row walked a man whose face was hidden behind a great brush of hair and beard. He kept his eyes to the ground, and from the thick set of his shoulders Ctenka guessed he was a fighting man, or at least used to be. Something about him spoke danger and Ctenka knew instinctively to keep an eye on this one even more than the others.
For his part Ermund didn’t seem to care. They were all his prisoners now, each one a prize to be taken back to Dunrun.
‘It’s a fine day, my friend.’
Ctenka looked down to see one of the prisoners strolling beside him as though he were out taking a breath of air on a sunny day. But for the manacles binding his hands he could have been an ordinary traveller.
‘A fine day indeed,’ Ctenka replied, unable to stop himself answering the friendly greeting out of politeness.
‘I’ve never been this far north before,’ the prisoner continued. ‘Your homeland is a place of rare beauty.’
Ctenka found it hard to drag his gaze away from the man’s dazzling white teeth, a rarity in the Suderfeld from what he’d seen. When finally he glanced about him at the barrenness of their surroundings Ctenka wondered if the man was having a lark.
‘Rare beauty?’ he answered. ‘That is clearly a matter of opinion.’
‘Aye,’ said the man. ‘You should see my wife. She’s a rare beauty too.’ He gave a wink at which Ctenka almost guffawed.
‘That bad?’
‘Trust me, my friend. You wouldn’t even ride her into battle.’
That time Ctenka did laugh.
‘I am Daffyd,’ the man continued. ‘I would offer to shake your hand, but obviously…’ He vainly tried to raise his manacled wrists.
‘Ctenka Sunatra. And those will have to stay on.’
Daffyd shrugged. ‘Of course they will. It’s clear that you’re no fool.’
‘And it’s clear that you’re a good judge. So tell me, how does a man with such impeccable powers of discernment end up in chains?’
‘Ah, that is a question. And one I would love to answer. But would you believe me if I told you? After all, I am a criminal. I could tell you my tale of bad luck. Or perhaps of a miscarriage of justice. Or shall we just dispense with the ruse and say I am in my current predicament because I got caught.’
Ctenka was starting to like this man. His company on the road made a sharp difference to that of Ermund. Perhaps he had at last found someone who would make the journey less dull.
Before they could continue the conversation, Ermund pulled up his horse.
‘We’ll rest here,’ he announced. ‘Take some water, see to your feet. It’s a long road ahead, so if any of you are thinking of having a whinge, save it for later when you’re really feeling the strain.’
As the prisoners passed around a water skin, Ermund nudged his horse beside Ctenka’s.
‘Made yourself a new friend?’ he said.
Ctenka could hardly deny it. ‘We were just talking. No harm in that.’
‘These men were on their way to trial. Gunby had them in chains for a reason. Be careful who you take a shine to.’
‘What harm can they do? They’re still in chains.’
‘Just watch yourself.’ With that, Ermund nudged his horse back up the road.
When they were done with resting, the group continued their journey east. As they made their way along the road, Ermund’s words of warning echoed in Ctenka’s head and he made a point of avoiding further conversation with anyone. Instead he kept a diligent eye on the prisoners, determined to do his duty and not let Ermund down.
They’d covered a lot of ground by the time night drew in. Ctenka was surprised that none of the prisoners had collapsed under the heat. But then he guessed they were a hardy bunch, and a march in the sun was far from the worst they’d experienced.
Ermund had Ctenka build a fire while he stood vigilantly watching the prisoners. Gunby had given them a little dried fruit and meat for their journey, almost enough to see them to Dunrun, but they’d have to find somewhere to resupply before long.
Ctenka sat Castiel and Lena at the opposite side of the fire to the prisoners, but he needn’t have worried. With Ermund’s imposing eye watching them, not one of the manacled men seemed to pay the children any mind.
When they’d eaten, Ctenka walked off a little into the night to take a piss. As he got back to the fireside he felt his throat tighten at the sight of a prisoner sitting next to Castiel, but when he saw it was Daffyd who had decided to entertain the youngsters he let out a breath of relief.
‘What’s this?’ said the prisoner, pulling a coin from behind Castiel’s ear. Where he had been hiding it, Ctenka didn’t dare to wonder. Castiel merely stared at the coin blankly as Daffyd made it dance across his knuckles before it disappeared into his palm.
‘You’re a skilled charlatan,’ said Ctenka. ‘I think I’ve worked out why you’re in chains.’
‘Just a trick I used to keep my own children amused with,’ he said. There was a distant look to his eyes.
Ctenka felt a sudden ache of pity. ‘There’s every chance you’ll see them again.’
Daffyd stared into the fire, not giving an answer.
Ctenka didn’t want to intrude on the man’s sorrow, and felt it best to hold his peace. The night wore on in silence until finally Ermund came to him and said, ‘You’re the first watch.’
Ctenka wasn’t about to argue. The long ride meant they would soon be at Dunrun where an army of Shengens might be waiting, which was enough to make sleep difficult.
He sat there in the dark, watching the fire dwindle, thinking about what was to come. When they arrived back at Dunrun there would be a fight the likes of which he had only dreamed of, if there hadn’t been one already. Part of Ctenka wanted to be in time for the fight so he could gain glory with the rest of the militia. As he stared into that fire, he realised there was also a part of him that hoped it was already over. That the fort would be in ruins and the Iron Tusk’s army already gone.
The shame of that hit Ctenka like a bolt. He pulled his blanket around him, closing his eyes against the night, the chill and the shame.
When he opened his eyes again he realised he must have been more tired than he thought.
He was lying on his side. The fire had guttered to almost nothing. There was a noise, a throaty retch, as though something were choking to death off in the dark. It took him a moment to realise it was a man’s voice, and he scrambled to his feet, tearing his sword from its sheath.
Ermund was fighting in the shadows. Struggling with one of the prisoners. Ctenka could see the man was on top of him, trying to throttle the veteran with his manacled hands. The prisoner was a mass of beard and hair and there was blind fury in his face.
As Ctenka rushed forward two more prisoners leapt to their feet. Ctenka tried to block their escape but was sent sprawling into the dirt. He scrambled to his feet, looking for his sword in the darkness. By the time he found it both men had made a dash for the shadows. He shouted at the prisoners to stop, but they didn’t take his demands seriously, as they disappeared into the night.
Ermund continued to roll on the ground, struggling with the desperate prisoner. He grappled the man into the embers of the fire, but his attacker ignored the cinders that burned his ragged tunic and continued to fight.
Ctenka ran towards them, his sword held high, but he daren’t strike in case he hit his friend.
‘Kill him!’ Ermund shouted, desperately holding off the wild prisoner.
The thought of killing the innkeeper suddenly rushed back to Ctenka. That man’s body, dead and broken, was all he could see, haunting him with its grim memory.
He dropped his sword and grabbed the prisoner’s hair, dragging him off Ermund. The man twisted in his grip, lashing out and striking Ctenka in the nose with his elbow. Ctenka staggered back but managed to stay on his feet. It was a shit contribution to the fight but it gave Ermund enough of a chance to smash the prisoner in the face with his fist. The man staggered back, and luckily Ermund had the presence of mind to pick up Ctenka’s fallen sword.
The prisoner halted his attack in the face of the naked blade, but there was still hate in his eyes. He was breathing hard, teeth grinding, fists balled.
‘Go on then,’ the wild man said. ‘You tried to kill me once, why don’t you finish the job?’
Ermund paused, staying his hand. He stared at the man and Ctenka could see recognition dawning on his friend’s face.
‘No,’ said Ermund. ‘It can’t be you. Not you.’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Ctenka, willing Ermund to strike.
Neither man seemed to want to answer. The silence went on. Ctenka could see the other prisoners watching from the dark. The two children were standing now, holding each other in a tight embrace.
‘Well? Are you going to tell him who I am?’ said the prisoner.
‘This is…’ Ermund couldn’t find the words.
The prisoner had stopped seething now. His mouth twisted into a grin. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce your old friend?’
‘This is Josten Cade,’ Ermund said.
Ctenka was none the wiser, and neither man seemed to want to provide an explanation.
‘So are you going to kill me?’ Josten asked. ‘Or shall we just stand here, holding our dicks all night?’
Ermund lowered the sword. ‘Guess we should take a seat,’ he said to Josten. ‘And you can tell me what in the hell has happened to you.’
That was enough for both of them, and they sat by what remained of the fire like two old comrades.
Ctenka couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. ‘What the fuck is going on? This man just tried to kill you.’
Ermund looked up at him, seeming amused by the notion. ‘He was only returning the favour.’ He turned his attention back to Josten. ‘Now, what the hell are you doing here?’