The Bastard, page 15
It was a decent fit. The man I’d just blinded and beaten was about the same size as me.
Nodding my approval, I encouraged Sir George to return to his spot, then took the Blackcoat’s place next to the wall.
“How about that?” I muttered to the rat dragon. “I have joined the Blackcoats. Who would have thought?”
Then I settled in to wait, thankful that today wasn’t one of those days where the drizzle was heavy.
I only had to wait a few minutes. Less than a handful, actually, and I couldn’t help but think what that might say about Durstan’s stamina where it mattered.
Nevertheless, the huge man soon appeared at the doorway, his expression unreadable. For all I knew, he could have been feeling content after his efforts in the brothel. Or he could have been disappointed. Not that it mattered to me. All that mattered was that when he stepped into the daylight and glanced in my direction, I had plenty of time to react.
From his perspective, the first thing he saw was the black coat I was wearing. I looked just enough like his friend to give myself the element of surprise.
It was all I needed. I grinned at Durstan and swung my club hard at the man’s face, smashing it into the bridge of his nose with all my strength.
To give credit where it’s due, Durstan proved to be much tougher than his friend. He staggered backward and swore in surprise, then gathered himself and charged at me with a roar like a bull.
I snapped a second one of Meghan’s discs, and had the satisfaction of hearing Durstan bellow in rage. I hit him more times than I really had to, smashing my club against his shoulders and back, and only going for the head when I saw him start to blink as if his sight was returning.
I had to hit him twice more, but in the end the result was the same.
Durstan lay face down in the mud just as his companion had done.
I could have plunged one of my daggers into his heart or slit his throat and watched him bleed out. But I’d made that mistake with Bryce and didn’t intend to make it again. And besides, I wanted him to know it was me before he died.
Which meant I had to move him to somewhere less visible. Trouble was, he was a monster. Much too large and too heavy for me to shift by myself.
Fortunately, Garath had wandered out of the tavern to join me.
He looked down at Durstan on the ground with an expression of loathing, his usually jovial expression nowhere to be seen. He then looked at me and gave me a nod.
“Good,” he said. “This bastard cost me everything.”
“You get his shoulders,” I said. “I’ll get his legs.”
My friend did as I asked, and in moments, we had the huge man up on Garath’s cart. Without a word, the swordsmith took the driver’s seat and goaded his horse into motion, while I used the rope we’d left in the cart to bind and gag Durstan tightly enough that he could never escape.
35
As Garath picked his way through the city streets, I went through Durstan’s belongings and came away with his coin pouch, an assortment of knives, a sword, and another satchel like Bryce’s.
Durstan’s satchel wasn’t anywhere near as full as Bryce’s had been, but when combined with the coin in his pouch, it still made for a decent score. I found myself wondering about that once again. I was able to survive all right with what I earned picking pockets, and if I needed anything else, I could simply steal it outright. But the schemes Rolf and his men were involved in were another matter entirely. They were the very definition of lucrative, resulting in a river of coin flowing to Rolf, and presumably to the King beyond them.
I couldn’t help but think that if I could get my hands on that sort of coin, I could do a lot. Maybe, I thought, once I was done with this revenge I was after, I would set my mind to figuring out some of those schemes for myself.
Before we reached our destination, Durstan started to wake.
It wasn’t a sudden change. He didn’t go from asleep to wide awake in an instant. Instead, he first started to move about in his sleep, as if caught in a bad dream. Then he began making noises through the gag in his mouth and turning his head back and forth, his brow creasing in a thunderous frown.
But he didn’t seem to be able to climb all the way back to consciousness by himself.
Finally, Garath halted his horse in an out-of-the-way spot next to the inner city wall beside the river, but a long way from any of the bridges, and nowhere near the dock.
I’d chosen this spot deliberately. The water ran deep here, but not swiftly. And the banks had been reinforced years ago with old brickwork that still held.
Garath could park his cart right next to the water without any difficulty.
The blacksmith set the brake, then clambered back over to me and Durstan in the back.
“He’s still out?” he asked.
“Mostly,” I said.
The smith looked uncertain. “What do we do? Wait for him to wake proper? Or finish him off before he ever does?”
“I want him to know who killed him,” I replied grimly.
Garath was generally easy-going, a friendly chap who worked hard and played straight. By the look of him, he didn’t seem the type to be a killer. Yet he didn’t flinch at my words. Just nodded and left it to me to decide what to do.
I slapped the semiconscious Durstan hard across the side of his face.
He flinched and muttered into his gag, but otherwise, his condition didn’t change.
So I slapped him again. And again, harder each time. The third time made the difference. His eyes flickered open, and he gave a snort of distinct irritation.
I slapped him again, just for the hell of it. “Come on,” I snarled. “I haven’t got all day!”
Despite my words, I pretty much did have all day. I wasn’t expected anywhere and didn’t have any firm plans for the evening.
Perhaps, when Garath and I were done with Durstan, I would make my way back to Meghan’s place. To celebrate, in a way. And perhaps see if the enchantress could spare any more of her blindness discs.
I slapped Durstan one more time, and that was enough. He came back to himself all the way, and glared at me and Garath. It took him a moment to realize he was bound, but when he did, he started to struggle and curse at us through the gag.
I let him waste his strength against my knots for a while, but that strength was truly prodigious. I began to fear he might be strong enough to escape. So I took one of my daggers, one I kept coated with Meghan’s bee venom poison, and dangled it above his left eye.
“Stop that,” I said.
He didn’t believe I would do anything. He kept struggling, so I took the dagger and poked a hole not in his eye, but through his muscular shoulder.
The bee venom did its job, and Durstan screamed into his gag. He stared at me in abject horror, as if the pain was far out of proportion for what it should have been with just a small wound. He writhed as if in the most hellish torment imaginable, and I smiled as I held the bloody blade above his eye once again and repeated my message.
Eventually, he calmed himself down. The glare he delivered to me then was one of pure hate, and I was more than pleased to know that he would not get the opportunity to enact whatever revenge of his own he was planning.
He made a muffled sequence of grunts that I chose to interpret as a question.
I smiled at him. “What was on my blade? Poison, of course. But don’t worry, this one isn’t fatal. It’s designed to cause pain.”
Somehow, he managed to stay in control of himself. He grunted through his gag once again.
“Sorry, you’re a bit hard to understand,” I said, smiling sweetly. “Try again.”
He did so, growling in anger, and this time I decided to answer. “You want to know what I want?” I asked, and he nodded.
I let my smile grow broader. “Everything,” I said. “But in particular, I want you to know who it is that has killed you.”
I let the words sink in for a moment, and then Durstan began struggling against his bonds once again.
He threw his weight against them, trying to knock me off balance, trying to surprise me enough to buy himself some time. But I was sitting on the edge of the cart, completely at ease, and the only thing his thrashing about accomplished was giving me the excuse to stab him again.
I did so, this time choosing a spot on his leg, in the meat of his thigh.
Once again, Durstan screamed into his gag, the sound coming out muffled.
“Is that really how you want to go out?” I asked him. “Screaming like a little girl?”
The bee venom was potent. It took some time for Durstan to stop screaming and calm himself down once again.
“Good,” I said. “It seems that even a block of wood like yourself is able to learn. Now, I’m not going to take off your gag, but you’re going to answer me anyway. Do you know who I am?” I asked. “Either nod or shake your head.”
The man nodded, and I could see the fear in his eyes. He was telling the truth. He knew who I was.
“And do you know why I’m doing this to you?”
A little less sure this time, but he nodded again.
“Yes, that’s right. I’m doing this to you because you did it to me. You, Bryce, Rolf. You left me to hang. And for that, you have to die.”
It was as if my words broke him. He nodded again, and much of the tension left his body as he did.
I smiled again. “You might like to know it was me who killed your friend a few days ago. Interestingly, he put up more of a fight than you did. But that means, once you’re gone, there’s only one left. And I already know what I’m going to do to him.”
This time, Durstan didn’t even bother to try to respond. He just clenched his eyes shut and squeezed a single tear out the side.
I was done. I’d said all I wanted to say. I knew that this monstrous man would go to his death understanding what I wanted him to know.
I looked across to Garath, who was staring down at Durstan with a thoughtful expression.
“Is there anything you would like to say?” I asked him.
I didn’t doubt his resolve. Over the past few days, I’d learned the depth of the hatred Garath had for this man.
He nodded and addressed his next words to Durstan.
“You cost me and mine everything,” Garath said. “This won’t change that. But know that it might make me feel a bit better about it all.
With that, he spat a great, wet gob of spit at the Blackcoat, who flinched as it caught him square in the face.
Then Garath looked to me. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” he said.
I was happy enough to comply.
Together, we got down from the cart and grabbed the ropes at Durstan’s feet, both of us working together to drag him off the cart.
He landed with a thump on the perpetually damp earth.
As if that was a signal, Durstan began struggling again, perhaps understanding that this was his last chance, and these were his last moments.
I didn’t bother to stab him again, having already put my dagger away. Instead, with Garath’s help, we rolled him off the bank and into the water.
He went in with barely a splash and began to sink right away. But his efforts to keep himself afloat worked. He bucked and twisted about near the surface, and even managed to keep his head free of the water.
For a little while, anyway.
Then the weight of his black coat and boots dragged him under, and it wasn’t long after that when he vanished from view into the muddy depths.
Garath and I stood at the edge and waited until the bubbles stopped rising.
“And that’s two,” I murmured.
Garath looked at me. “What if they find him?” he asked.
“It wouldn’t matter if they did. Someone like Durstan, there are hundreds of people who want to kill him. I’m already dead as far as Rolf knows. And you? I doubt you’d ever be a suspect.”
I took a deep breath, feeling at once satisfied and disappointed, and continued. “Although I doubt they’ll even find the body. Some of the fish in there will already have started to gnaw on his flesh. And if there’s a river serpent about, not even his boots will survive.”
It was good enough for Garath. He held out a hand, and I shook it, an acknowledgement of a job well done.
Then the man climbed back onto his cart. He offered me a ride, but I was going the other way.
Meghan’s cottage wasn’t too far a walk from where we were, and I felt the need for her company.
Although, when I thought about it, it wasn’t a celebration as much as the simple comfort of being with someone I cared deeply about.
The girls in the taverns were just as soft and warm, and just as willing to share a bed with me. But somehow, Meghan was special.
We split the coin from Durstan’s satchel and pouch, and each of us went our separate ways.
36
Meghan seemed to accept that I wasn’t a permanent part of her life, but was instead more transient, stopping in from time to time as my goals allowed. Once again, she maintained her younger form throughout my visit, and even shared some of her food with Sir George by choice.
Finally, the rat dragon’s presence had been accepted for real rather than merely tolerated.
As for what she had done with the coin I had given her, I couldn’t tell. There were no signs of it in her cottage. But I didn’t ask. What she did with the money was her business.
At the same time, I didn’t feel compelled to share my latest windfall. The coin I’d gained from Durstan would be enough to live on for some months, if I was careful. And if I was not–well, hopefully by then I would have figured out a way to earn more.
As was her pattern, Meghan didn’t try to persuade me to stay. It seemed she was content with the time I could spend with her and never asked if there were any other women in my life. If she had, I would have told her, but I would have also said that none could match her.
Instead, she gave me more of her enchanted discs, as well as a potion that she was particularly proud of.
“A single small sip will change your appearance so that not even those closest to you will know who you are. With this, you could appear on my doorstep, and I would chase you away, not recognizing you at all.
I was intrigued. The vial seemed to contain enough liquid for maybe three of those sips, if I was careful. “How long does it last?” I asked. “Is it consistent? If I take a second sip a week later, will I look like the same man I was with the first sip?”
“It will last several hours at least, and yes. The way it works, it uses your normal self as a base and shifts everything you are around that. Your hair will grow darker. Your eyes and skin tone as well. You will appear maybe a decade older than you are, and that’s just the start. Your features are regular, so this potion will keep them as such, but they won’t be your features.”
I was amazed, and tempted to try it right there, but Meghan dissuaded me. “Remember, it’s very precious. I don’t give this away to just any pretty young man who knocks on my door. And I can’t make more. The ingredients are seasonal and rare. I won’t be able to get more until the end of the summer.”
“Finish this thing you have with Rolf and come back to me,” she said. “Remember, there is more to you than revenge. More to life than getting back at those who seek to do harm.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said something like that, and once again I wondered if she meant something beyond general advice. But again, she showed no interest in following it up, and I left.
And then I was back in the city, planning to balance the scales between me and my primary foe.
37
Rolf, I had decided, wasn’t going to get off so easily.
Durstan and Bryce were no more than low-level muscle. They’d shown who they were when they stood in line to defile Anwen and had gleefully been willing to fight their way past me to do so.
That was enough to earn them their deaths, as defending the King’s chosen companion was apparently enough to earn me a date with the hangman.
But Rolf was different.
Rolf had painted himself as my friend and abused my trusting nature. When all was said and done, he was as much my friend as Sir George was a true dragon–less, in fact, because at least Sir George belonged to the same general family.
Rolf had hung his crimes and those of his men squarely around my neck, and sneered at me when I’d needed him most.
I could have finished Rolf off in the same way that I had taken out Durstan and Bryce. All I needed was enough time with him by himself. But even if that was possible, even if Rolf hadn’t taken to surrounding himself with his men in the time since Bryce’s death and Durstan’s disappearance, it still wouldn’t be enough.
For my vengeance to be complete, Rolf had to suffer. For it to mean something, he had to go through the same hell I had experienced.
He needed to spend time in a cell where I could visit him and gloat. And he needed to be hanged by the neck, in full view of the townsfolk, until his still-kicking corpse was cut down by the hangman’s men.
Only then would I be satisfied that my vengeance was true. Only then would I be free to begin my life anew, following rules of my own making rather than those of people like Rolf.
And even though I still visited Lady Emmeline every day except Sundays, I wasn’t proficient enough with my sword to best Rolf in an outright swordfight. Perhaps not yet.
Although, at Lady Emmeline’s, I was learning quite a lot, and it wasn’t all about sword-fighting. At one point, I left her home, having just experienced being tied up with my hands behind my back, bent over, and thrashed with the flat of her sword. If it had been anyone but her, I would have been terrified, but I trusted the elderly woman now, and while the playful beating reddened my bottom, it also aroused me more than I’d imagined.
