A Bastard's Birthright - Chapter Thirty
Olic stood on the prow of the ship, scanning the waters around the Tide as he puffed contentedly on a cigarette. Most soldiers hated the graveyard shift, but he had always preferred it. Something about the peace and quiet, the cool night air and the simple pleasure of smoking in silence. No complaints this time of night, not about Calris and Ban getting into fights, or Badger raiding the larder, or Viper and Sparrow creeping out the other squads. It was bliss.
Also, few forces, aside from the marines themselves, had the expertise or courage to launch attacks by night, so they were generally uneventful. With a sigh, he ashed out his cigarette, flicked the butt into the ocean, and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. Unfortunately, tonight would not be uneventful.
He whirled, drawing his sword and sweeping it in a wide arc, feeling the shock reverberate up his arm as it met steel in the night. Before him, an assailant wearing a Guild cloak let out a strangled cry of surprise as they staggered backwards under the force of the blow. Olic pressed forward, swinging again and again to keep his foe off balance, his aggression rewarded as the assassin fell backwards, tripping on a length of coiled rope. Their recovery was fast though, and Olic growled as they rolled deftly to their feet and sidestepped into an empty section of the deck as their cowl fell back to expose a shock of distinctive white hair.
“Elizabeth. I’m afraid I didn’t get the chance to properly introduce myself last time. Sergeant Nicholas Olic, squad leader of the lads you trounced back at the Keep.”
Elizabeth straightened up and smiled, rapidly regaining her composure after being forced from her feet. Olic noticed she looked different from before. Admittedly, he’d been put out of commission relatively early on, but he remembered her well enough. She looked haggard now, like she was trying just a little too hard to inject the swagger into her walk that used to be instinctive.
“They fought reasonably well,” she said through a smile that looked far more tired than she realised. “Though not well enough. And if I recall, I trounced you too, Sergeant.”
Olic chuckled and hefted his sword. “They have potential, but they’re just kids. You won’t beat me with the same tricks again.”
Elizabeth reached inside her cloak for one of her magic trinkets, but Olic was faster, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Elizabeth cursed as she went back on the defensive beneath a flurry of thrusts.
Olic had to admit she was good. Real good. Fast reflexes, excellent technical skills and instinct, but he doubted she had ever fought someone on her level before and she didn’t know how to handle him. She was too focussed on his sword and neglected everything else around her. Which made it easy for Olic to force her back towards the hatch.
He brought his sword down in a heavy overhand strike, and as she lifted her weapon to parry it, he delivered a heavy kick to her midriff, knocking her into the hole. Her sword clattered uselessly to the deck as she scrambled, arresting her fall when her hands found the rim of the deck. She called for mercy as she dangled, helpless, while Olic stood over her.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you.”
“I just came to talk.”
“Not a good reason.”
It was almost a good reason, though. Especially after what Calris and Ban had reported from the warehouse. He was tempted to question her about this Barbarus character, but if she knew nothing, he would just be feeding more information to her in the event she somehow weaselled her way out.
“Fine!” she spat, eyes fixed on his blade. “I spared your men.”
That made Olic pause. He knew she was dangerous; even as they fought, she was adapting to his fighting style. Round two was going to be a lot tougher if it came to that. But she had a point. She could have easily killed the others, but she didn’t, and that was worth something.
“I’ll help you up, but your hands stay outside the cloak. Try anything and I raise the alarm. Then run you through. Or I’ll do it the other way around. We’ll see how I’m feeling.”
“That’s fair,” she replied, taking Olic’s hand and allowing herself to be pulled up on deck.
Olic kept his sword pointed at her gut as he hauled her up. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”
Elizabeth tried unsuccessfully to pull free of Olic’s grip, but realised she wouldn’t win a contest of strength and gestured to a nearby crate so she could sit.
“I’ve come to ask for the artefact,” she said as she settled herself, looking at Olic expectantly.
“Huh. That’s a novel approach. But I think you would have been better off trying another assault, especially now we know what it does.”
“You unlocked it? What does it do?”
Olic scrutinised the woman carefully. He had always been a good read of people, and his gut was telling him she was being honest, but how could that be right?
“All that effort, and you don’t even know what it does?”
“I had my orders, same as you, right? You don’t question the Guild Master.”
“Why does he want it?”
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably on her seat. “With all due courtesy, I’m not telling you shit.”
“I can understand that, I suppose. But…” Olic hesitated. She was keeping her mouth shut. He should probably do the same. But what would she do if she actually knew what the Key did? He thought about how the captain had handled a similar situation and decided.
“Miss Elizabeth, the Key, as we call it, opens a gateway to a place inhabited by seven foot tall monsters. A couple dozen almost wiped out the company.”
Elizabeth’s face went slack as she digested the information.
“That is… hard to believe.”
“Take it or leave it, but it’s the truth. I know I shouldn’t expect much from a member of the Guild, but if you have any decency at all, you won’t let the Guild Master gain such a weapon. You know what he’s done in the past.”
“Look, he doesn’t want it, alright?” she said quickly. “It’s just a job for some mage.”
So, she knew about Politis. Ferez was going to jump for joy when he learned of a material witness to his peer’s treachery. But she didn’t need to know that he knew, so he kept on about the Guild Master instead.
“And you’re sure he won’t keep it for himself when he finds out what it is?”
“Well, I won’t tell him, and I doubt you’ll get the opportunity. No offence.”
“Uh huh. And you’re sure he doesn’t already know?”
Olic said it offhand, stalling while he figured out his next question, but it seemed to have an effect on Elizabeth. The blank face returned, but imperfectly. He saw her eye twitch slightly and her brows furrowed, and she turned her head slightly, as though listening to someone whispering in her ear.
“Did I touch a nerve?”
“What? No, it’s nothing. Look, just hand over the Key, please? I would like to avoid another confrontation if I can.”
“Afraid you’ll lose again?”
“I’m afraid we won’t lose.”
Olic narrowed his eyes and sub-consciously tightened his grip on the sword. “Who is ‘we’?”
Elizabeth shifted on her seat and scratched absently at an arm. “I… I don’t really know. I haven’t worked with them before, but the Master trusts them,” she said, screwing up her face in disgust. “There’s something, off, about them, though. I’m worried what will happen if they have to get violent.”
“That’s so sweet, Miss, I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t. Not about you or the meatheads anyway. It’s the people here I fear for.”
This took Olic by surprise. He hesitantly let go of her arm and settled down on his own crate. “Why would you care about them?”
Elizabeth’s eyes flashed defiance. “I don’t hurt innocents. Everyone I’ve ever done in deserved it. Or could defend themselves, at least. Or, could have defended themselves if they saw me coming, which most of them didn’t. What was I saying?”
“Innocents.”
“Right, innocents. I don’t hurt them. And I’d like to avoid catching them in the middle here.”
“I can put your mind at ease there, at least. The Key isn’t here.”
“Shit, where is it?”
Olic crossed his arms over his chest. “With all due courtesy, I’m not telling you shit.”
Elizabeth gave a dry chuckle and stood to leave.
“In the jungle, then. Shit,” she said, pausing a moment and sucking her teeth. “The cute, short one. He with it?”
“I’ve never heard anyone call him cute, but if you mean Ban, then yes, he’s with the Key.”
“That’s a bugger and a half,” she said, turning towards the deck guard. “Also, manners are both rare and attractive in a man like him,” she called over her shoulder.
Olic sighed and followed her to the railing. There was no accounting for taste with some people.
“Do you honestly think I can let you walk away?”
“If you don’t want Ban to end up dead, you will,” she replied, glaring at him before climbing over the side and disappearing from view.
“If you kill him, I kill you,” he called after her.
“Fill your boots, old man,” she called back.
He didn’t hear a splash, but when he looked over the side, she was nowhere to be seen. He called her a smartass under his breath as he lit another cigarette and strode over to the captain’s cabin.
“Erwell!” he shouted as he banged on the door. “We’ve got a problem.”