Sergun's Mission Read online

  ‘I’m sure you do, but remember in our lands morality is different to yours. If you find yourself involved with an officer don’t have relationships with others at the same time. It can get…confusing.’

  ‘I understand jealousy and we’ll be careful. Thanks for your advice; you’re both a great warrior and a giver of advice. You’ve a good heart in your body and not a dark rock.’

  It rained and all wore waterproofs. The smell of fresh water was good but progress was slowed. They passed human remains of those who’d died with their hands bound behind their backs. Sergun was further north than before and he hadn’t been as isolated from a main body of army for so long, yet their casualties were light, and they were only three days from the City of Dreams. The decision for so few of them to travel as a group was working well so far. Additional troops and supply problems would have arisen. Two men were sent with Jersa and Joluna as escorts. As they rode north they moved further away from Tharne, towards the City of Dreams and closer to the edge of the Raiders’ hunting grounds. If fortune was on their side their ride to the place would be trouble free.

  11. Jehran

  They rode from the town as fast as their horses would carry them. It was dusk and the best time to flee a crime, into the approaching darkness and the woods. If men dared to follow them at night they would have torches and it would be easy to spot them. If they brought hunting dogs then their horses would outrun them but they had seen no such creatures and their current crime wasn’t so serious.

  Jehran was a man in his mid-thirties, strongly built with black hair over his ears and a short dark beard. He wore brown leggings and good leather boots. Under his sheepskin coat, he wore a crème shirt. From his belt hung a long dull sword. No farmer carried such a sword and no wealthy person wore such tawdry clothes. There were a variety of professions and trades such a man might be; bodyguard, tough trader, thief, robber, and outlaw. Jehran had been them all and the final three was his way for the last year. Legal living grew tiresome and the pay wasn’t good. Before those professions, he was an officer in the Tharne military and few gave him orders. He’d had enough of taking orders from lesser men and as an outlaw, he was his own boss. Taking orders from a military genius was an honour. Taking them from a rich tradesman who saw every scruffy man as a robber made him depressed. When he was a soldier thief were despised. Now he was one he knew it as a decision many men and women were given little choice but to make.

  In the woods, they guided their horses off the track and covered their way. They were fortunate the trees were not packed too tightly. The lead man was older than the man following and alert and careful.

  Carhir looked at the older man. ‘Can we have a fire tonight?’

  ‘No, it’s not cold enough yet.’

  ‘I want a maid in my bed within two days. Agreed?’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Jehran sat on a fallen tree and rested his head on his hands. Always just surviving. Never enough money to stop thieving for longer than a few days. There were tall trees. Good protection from the rain. Another night in the forests. He too, longed for a soft bed with a soft, warm body to welcome him but had learnt patience and timing. They took it in turns to watch but Jehran caught Carhir asleep on his second watch and held his dagger to his throat. Carhir dismissed his threat as he knew Jehran needed his company. They left before daybreak.

  It was safer to live in the woods but it meant hunting and trading. There were people to rob in the forests but they normally carried little. They couldn’t afford to make enemies everywhere. Jehran preferred to stay in a warm place. With someone bringing his food to him and maybe finding a maid to play with. Finding a good man to be his partner was difficult and Carhir had only worked with him for twenty days. Two successful robberies and it was early days for them yet. Cahir was ten years his junior and well built. His eyes were blue, his nose was large and his hair was brown and lank. He carried a sword and was dressed in brown leggings and a black shirt covered in animal hide.

  They moved south for two days, stopping at an inn and taking on food before finding a new small town. They carried money from their last robbery, enough to keep them in drink and food for three or four days before they would have to rob someone again. Such was the life Jehran led. It kept him alert, looking for opportunities. The inn was pleasant, warm after the cold nights and he’d taken the chance to bathe. There were two maids working and the younger one was slim and pretty which was just his type.

  He sat with his back to the wall facing the doorway and rear entrance. It was after lunch and not busy, he preferred it this way. Amongst crowds, it was easier for someone to watch him. The smell of smoke and meat cooking made him feel hungrier. The man behind the bar was old, tired and taciturn. Out of the two maids, it was the younger one he eyed. Cahir disappeared and Jehran took his chance. He stared at the young girl wiping tables and when she finished she turned and looked at him. He stared at her like a hunter with his prey but smiled nicely. She was thinner than he liked but old enough with long black hair, a cute face and striking blue eyes.

  ‘I’m Jehran,’ the handsome man said, smiling at the pretty maid.

  The maid looked at him and smiled shyly back.

  ‘What’s your name, my sweet angel?’

  The maid giggled, cocked her head to one side, smiled and continued wiping the next empty table.

  ‘Come now, don’t be shy.’

  ‘His full name is Jehran the despoiler.’

  The girl looked confused and scared.

  Jehran hissed. ‘Not nice.’

  Carhir was drunk and Jehran hated that. Carhir thought everything was a joke when inebriated and grew a louder mouth than when sober. Jehran had warned him about getting inebriated like this before. Carhir’s drunkenness showed a lack of respect. The maid was scared away and now would no longer look in his direction. Drunken talk would be the death of one or both of them. Jehran wasn’t ready to die. He was looking forward to the company of the young maid, even if just her sweet words and pretty face. It was good to talk and hear a young girl’s sweet voice than a man’s once in a while. The young maid moved away and stopped flirting with Jehran.

  ‘I told you never to repeat it to anyone.’ Jehran hissed.

  Carhir put his arm around Jehran’s shoulder and said loudly. ‘Don’t moan like this. It was a joke!’

  Carhir walked to the pretty maid, sat beside her and sang. Jehran seethed with anger. Few men would dare insult him like that. Cahir knew he could not respond in front of others. What he committed long ago in the war was no crime. It sounded rotten in a quiet bar. He survived now on his fighting skills and deception. It was his fortune unlike many criminals to look young and handsome. No scars on his face, visible marks or burns. No broken or missing teeth. There were scars on his body from combat but few women were repulsed by them. He grew a beard sometimes and other times shaved his face, same as he kept his hair long and then cut it and changed his clothes. He avoided trouble and fights in public places, not wanting to draw unwanted attention. He longed to have a rich, pretty lady fall in love with him and settle down, be loyal to her and raise a family. It wasn’t going to happen. It was the fantasy of nearly every attractive sane maid and waitress he met to fall in love with a rich gentleman, not a criminal. His prospects were limited.

  In the tavern, he continued to sit with his back to the wall, and no longer desired company. He carried a few coins and three knives in addition to his rough looking sword. Another woman entered the tavern and sat in the far corner. She wore a long dark cloak and he could only see part of her face but she looked good and young. He remembered her from earlier in the day in the village square. He watched her attempt to take an item from a rich man’s coat pocket and shook his head and looked to her right. The militia was nearby and she curtly nodded and disappeared. The austere clothing and his foul mood destroyed any chance of making a good impression upon her and he sat silently fuming. She was a thief and he didn’t want his last coins taken from
him. He wanted her to approach him and it would make Cahir jealous that he too could attract a woman. But the lady did not look at him again. He could not bear to look at his companion’s progress with the young maid. He felt like shouting out his partner was infected with a transmittable disease but knew it was best not to cause a scene. There wasn’t anything to make them stay in the village beyond one night.

  ‘Jehran!’ A voice shouted out.

  Jehran grimaced and slowly turned. After a few drinks of alcohol, the man turned into a loud fool. Why couldn’t he turn into a quiet person when drunk, or why couldn’t he be funny and speak in a normal voice?

  ‘There you are! I thought you’d run off and left me!’ Carhir said, stumbling over to Jehran and falling onto the bench beside him

  The first time the man got drunk, Jehran hoped it wasn’t a habit. He was assured it wasn’t but he was a liar. Jehran didn’t mind lying. Those who risked their lives because of carelessness were unacceptable. He had plans for a big robbery and now he was going to have to find someone else to help him. Carhir could no longer be trusted and a solution was required. He helped his drunken compatriot up the stairs slowly and carefully to their room. Another town he couldn’t go back to. Another pretty woman he’d never be able to get close to. He helped him into the room and closed the door. He turned and put his hand over his partner’s mouth and smiled as he stabbed him in his chest. It was practise that meant he missed his ribs and went straight into his heart. Fun and laughter had its place but the fool was too loud and stupid. He made their lives more dangerous than they were all ready. He was happy to have removed a danger to his life. He felt no guilt but slight regret as he was going to have to work alone until he found someone decent to work with. That was going to be difficult, and he would have to travel through many towns before they would stop searching for him after this murder. This action wasn’t planned and he carried no disguise. He made sure none of Carhir’s blood was on his tunic and held him until he felt no sign of life. He let him carefully rest on the floor, not wanting anyone to come to the room wondering about a loud fall. He regretted his anger. Knew he should have waited until they were in the forests before doing this. Perhaps giving him one more warning? Too late now.

  He had no way of removing the corpse. It should be easy, don’t panic, act normal and just go early the next day and not come back. The maid would not check the room until lunch and by then he would be in the next town. Keep moving.

  He gathered his possessions and checked through his pockets for anything useful but apart from a few coins, there wasn’t anything. He spent all he stole on food, alcohol, and women. Jehran’s ambition was beyond surviving for the next two or three days. Lack of ambition and thought for others were Carhir’s downfall. He thought about putting the corpse in bed but it would only make a mess of the sheets and be harder to clean for the maid. He checked his face in the mirror for blood or anything that might make someone look at him strangely. He stroked his hair and wished for better luck in the next towns. Avoid drunks at all costs. Not to give away his past so easily. He sat on the bed wondering what the future would bring him. There was a knock at the door which surprised him. There was no use pretending he wasn’t there.

  12 Escape!

  ‘Who is it?’

  If it was the maid he would say his partner was sleeping.

  ‘Quick there’s trouble,’ said a female voice.

  ‘What? Who is it?’

  ‘Shut up and open the door before it’s too late!’

  He thought about jumping but opened the door with a knife in his other hand. It was the cloaked woman thief from downstairs.

  ‘There are men looking for you below. I thought I’d warn you.’

  He looked past her.

  ‘Get out of the window if you want to stay free.’

  He recognised the woman from earlier in the day when they exchanged glances in the town square, but didn’t expect to see her again. Was this a bluff, if so why would she choose him when she knew he must be cautious? If anyone was below looking for him then being found with a dead body would be the death of him if he was caught. Out of her sight, he pocketed the knife and watched as she pushed into the room and went straight to the window, opened it and climbed outside onto the roof. She moved smoothly like a skilled thief. He locked the door behind him and followed her. It was dark outside but not cold. He climbed out, thinking about sleeping outside again and carefully followed her figure across the roof. He saw the shadow of the buildings opposite but concentrated on his footing. She moved like a cat.

  He tried to match her, nearly lost his balance close to the edge and his heart raced. She walked around the edge of the next roof and let herself down. She didn’t scream which he took as a good sign and followed her, hoping she had moved out of the way.

  He landed and was surprised to find a knife to his throat and remained silent and still.

  ‘I’m helping you. I expect your help in return. Treat me like a fool and I’ll cut your throat.’

  Very carefully he nodded in agreement.

  The knife was withdrawn and they moved in the darkness towards the stables. They retrieved his and their spare horse. He thought about killing her but did not enjoy killing women and she only wanted to impress upon him that she wasn’t a wench. He admired her strength and courage. If she wanted him dead she could have finished him in the darkness. She might well have saved his life.

  The horses recognised him and were calm. They led them outside quietly. From a distance, they heard shouting and moved fast. She mounted the horse like an experienced rider and they rode into the dark night. He didn’t know her name and hoped this was no trick.

  They rode for many hours until they decided to let the horse’s rest. The last house they had seen was several hours ago and the forest was deeper. They sat on the horses in near silence, and listened carefully. Apart from the horse’s breathing, it was quiet. ‘I thank you. What’s your name?’

  ‘Sarish.’ She said

  ‘I’m Jehran.

  ‘Let’s find somewhere suitable to rest.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  They led the horses on foot through the moonlit woods. They were not on any obvious path and there was a view over an open patch of forest back from where they arrived from. They wouldn’t be able to light a fire but the nights were not so cold in the south at this time of year and rarely reached freezing. They tied the horses and sat on the dry ground. The light wasn’t enough to show her face in any detail.

  ‘Why did you help me?’ He asked.

  ‘You helped me earlier without reason. That’s a good sign. What will your friend do now you’re gone?’

  ‘He will survive.’ Jehran said looking into her eyes briefly.

  ‘Do you always stab so badly your victims live?’

  ‘He was drunk.’

  ‘I saved you because you helped me in the square earlier. You had no reason to. We can part now or work together. But I need to know why you killed him. I’m not going to sleep knowing you murdered your friend back there.’

  Admitting he killed Carhir to another wasn’t what he intended. ‘Why should I tell you the truth?’

  ‘I want to know who I would ride beside.’

  ‘In return, you will tell me about yourself?’

  She nodded faintly.

  ‘I hadn’t known him for long. He was no friend of mine. We worked together for only three times and when drunk he became loud and said things which could get us into trouble. He told me he wouldn’t do it again but he did. So I shut him up for good.’

  She smiled slightly. ‘It’s a good reason. No one likes a loose mouth.’

  Jehran waited patiently. Was she going to play a trick on him now?

  ‘I too have killed. I’m a thief and a murderer. Working alone is fine for me but there are jobs which I need a companion for.’

  ‘Not common outcomes for a young woman.’ Jehran stated.

  ‘I was trained for it from a young age. It’s a se
cret profession. I’ve said enough.’

  ‘Where did you first kill and who?’

  ‘Long ago in the City of Dreams when I was young I poisoned a criminal who threatened a guild. His name would mean nothing to you.’

  A poisoner! Great Jehran thought. I stab and thrust and she poisons. Nice combination! ‘We’ve no quarrel with one another. I thank you for saving me. Let’s discuss further our plans tomorrow. A man and woman together will fool many people to believe our intentions are respectable.’

  ‘Agreed and I wish to know more about you. Your bearing shows me confidence and I don’t believe it’s an act.’

  Jehran lay with his coat under him. He waited for Sarish to move but either she had greater patience than he or held no bad intentions and he eventually, fell asleep. He owned nothing worth stealing apart from his sword, but no woman would carry such a weapon. He wondered if this potential partnership would blossom or be another failure.

  In the early morning meagre light, he awoke and saw she was gone but had left the horse. Unsure if she was hunting or attending to her toilet he sat up, stretched and wondered what the day might bring. The forest was still and peaceful. He felt rested and hoped she was going to be a good companion and not let him down. They would be both testing one another in various ways. They were going to be risking their lives together. On experience, he guessed they would work together for a few robberies before going their separate ways. She moved well at night and was no maid. If she wanted to harm him she could have while he slept. She appeared more promising than Cahir. If she wanted a reward for his capture she wouldn’t have helped him escape last night.

  She was out hunting and bought back two fat brown birds. He prepared a fire and plucked while she cleaned them. They tasted rich and it was a good start to the day.

  ‘That’s a good hunting skill you have.’