BAR
Chapter Five
It was light. She was in a bed. The bed was comfortable; very much so. She tried to remember the last time she'd felt so easy; it was difficult.
There was the knock at the door, and she snapped into full wakefulness.
"Who is it?"
"Guhla, the innkeeper. I have your breakfast."
"One moment." Sonja crossed the room and drew back the bolt, though she did not open the door.
"Wait," she commanded; then got back into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
"You may come in, now."
Guhla entered, bearing a tray. If he deduced from the boots and armour scattered on the floor that Sonja was naked under the blankets, he made no sign of it. Instead, he placed the tray on a table by the bed. Sonja looked at it and saw new bread, honey, cold chicken, and some sort of herbal drink.
"Is there anything else you require?" Guhla asked her.
"A bath."
"It will be ready when you have broken your fast. Will you require attendance?"
"I think I can wash myself, thank-you."
Guhla bowed and withdrew; and Sonja directed her attention to the tray. The drink was warm, and tasted strongly of mint. It was refreshing.
An hour later, Sonja was standing by an ancient oak growing by itself to the south of the village. She heard footsteps approaching, but didn't bother to turn round.
"This is about a mile, wouldn't you say?" she asked.
"As near as makes no matter," Bar replied. Sonja turned to face him. He was dressed as he had been on their first meeting.
"And have you come to pronounce my doom?"
"Not yet. I have given the matter much thought, however; and have decided to show you something. Please come with me."
He turned and started walking towards the east. Sonja followed.
"Where are your dogs?"
"I have left them kennelled. They will pine, but they would be a distraction today."
"A distraction from what?"
"You shall see."
They walked in silence. The country they passed through was arid scrubland; though after two hours or so it started to become greener, and a wood became visible in the distance. Another hour; and they were walking through the trees. Still neither said a word.
After another league or so, Sonja caught her breath. From a tree ahead of her, a man was hanging. His wrists were firmly lashed to a low branch; his feet dangling at the level of her waist. He'd been severely beaten, but was alive.
Bar, however, ignored him, gesturing instead to the terrain beyond.
"This is Nyla's river. I named it. It's not much of a river at the moment, as you can see. It has taken to drying up in the summer; I know not why. Nevertheless, it is dear to me."
"Is that why you give people a good view of it?"
Bar turned, and seemed to notice the man in the tree for the first time. "Ah; this is Malik. You've met before."
"I don't remember him. Was he at the inn two nights ago?"
"He was – where he used a stool in a most unfortunate manner. Unfortunate for him."
"I see."
"I promised you retribution, did I not? Now you shall see that I'm a man of my word."
For the first time, Sonja noticed a dark green blanket at the foot of the tree. Bar reached under it and pulled out a small crossbow and bundle of quarrels. He loaded the bow and stood in front of the man Malik. He raised his arm.
Malik saw, and began to jerk uselessly, like a marionette. His swollen lips tried to form some words. "No, Lord…" he moaned.
Bar pulled the trigger, and a steel-headed bolt buried itself in Malik's thigh. He screamed.
Calmly, Bar reloaded. "I am Bar," he told Malik. "I rule here. My word is the law and the whole of the law. You have displeased me." Here he shot a second bolt into Malik's shoulder. "You took it upon yourself to interfere in an affair of mine. For that you must pay a penalty; and there is only one penalty I recognise. Pain."
He loaded a third bolt into the crossbow. Malik was reduced to a stream of whimpering sobs. Bar took aim again.
"May I?" Sonja asked.
Bar looked surprised. "What? Yes, of course. Your pardon, that was remiss of me. He did injury against you; you have the right to return the favour." He handed the crossbow to Sonja with a slight bow, then courteously stood aside.
Sonja aimed and loosed. The bolt thudded into Malik's heart. He twitched once, then the life passed from him.
"Strange," Bar said. "A single shot satisfies you?"
"I take no pleasure in unnecessary suffering."
"Surely you are not squeamish? No, you killed Ganak without hesitation."
"With one blow. Malik wronged me, but the debt is now paid; in full measure and with advantage. What now?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You could've strung Malik up anywhere; but you brought me here. Also, that blanket conceals I know not what else."
"You are perceptive." Bar reached under the blanket again, this time producing the sword he'd used earlier.
"Does your head still trouble you?"
"No."
"Good. Are you in need of food, drink, rest?"
"Again, no. Why are you so concerned?"
"Look under the blanket."
Sonja did so. Underneath was her own sword. She buckled it round her waist.
"So;" Bar told her. "You are in fighting fettle. As am I. Which means," he continued, drawing his blade and casting the scabbard aside, "that this will be a fair fight."
"I see."
"Indeed. It is time I fulfilled the terms of your oath."