Chapter 6: The Hellion

Overconfidence and bloodlust make us sloppy. We charge pell-mell into the Weald, and before we've realized what we're doing we've let the darkness and confusion split us up into a bunch of small groups rather than one big one. I lose track of Guy and Florent, and pretty soon it's just me and one other guy wondering where the hell everyone else is.

"Think we should turn back?" I ask. "We ain't finding 'em again in this mess."

"Yeah," says the other guy – ugly son of a bitch by the name of Jean. "This is hopeless."

"Hopeless for you!" comes a voice I don't recognize.

We draw steel and turn to see the glaive-woman running at us out of the gloom. She swings at Jean, who barely ducks in time. He darts back to me, and the three of us size one another up.

The glaive-woman's screaming is the real threat – I know firsthand it's like being slugged – but if we make sure not to stay too close to one another she won't be able to knock us both for a loop at once. And if one of us gets behind her, we can probably win this. I wink at Jean, who starts circling around her to the left. I go right.

"You're a real fuckin' hellion, woman," I taunt, trying to goad her into charging too soon. "I'm impressed."

"Come closer," she calls back, "and I'll show you just how much of a hellion I can be."

"You'd like that, hey?" Jean cuts in with a harsh laugh. "Having the both of us real close."

"Forget him," says I. "Killer like you, you'd make a great bandit. I'm sure the others'd let you into the crew, no questions asked. Just put the axe down and we can talk it over."

"You really think I'm that stupid?" she asks.

I'm actually thinking I only need to keep her talking for a few more seconds when Jean suddenly rushes her – maybe he thought he saw an opening. But he's still too early, and she sees him coming. Idiot! She whirls and hacks him a blow that opens up his stomach, then takes his head off on the back-stroke. As he crumples to the dirt, she turns back to me.

"He didn't last long," she says with a sneer. "Will you?"

Career as a bandit, you see some shit. See enough of it, you know when to cut your losses and run. I say nothing, but turn and flee into the bushes.

"Coward!" I hear her roar after me, but I don't take the bait.

For another few minutes, maybe longer, I blunder through the Weald. As soon as I'm sure I'm away from the Hellion, I slow down and move as quietly as I can. I don't wanna get caught alone out here, especially without a torch. After a couple of minutes, I hear yelling ahead of me, and make my way over.

After about another half minute, I emerge into a clearing. I can make out four other people, all lit up by a still-guttering torch that's fallen to the ground.

One of them is Blondie – probably she's the one dropped the torch. Another is one of our boys, who's twisted one of her arms behind her back, and got his other arm round her neck. The third is Florent – he's lost his hood in the fighting, and I can recognize his mug from here. He's busy trying to get his pants off, I assume so him and his friend can have a bit of fun before they cut her throat and make their way back to the carriage. He'd probably get away with it too, except the fourth person is the Hellion, eyes blazing hate as she sneaks up behind him out of the darkness. She must have heard the noise too.

"Hey, Blondie," Florent taunts, struggling with the buckle. "Have you ever been fucked befo-"

"Florent," I yell, "Behind you!"

Florent looks up at me, startled, before looking behind him like I wanted. By that time, it's too late.

"KREEE-YAAAAAH!"

The Hellion slashes sideways with the glaive and catches Florent right in the face. His skull splits open like a piece of fruit. The guy holding Blondie cries out in horror, and the moment of distraction is enough for her to slip out of his grasp. In one fluid motion, she pulls a hidden knife from her coat and pushes it up under his chin.

"Shit," I whisper to myself.

They turn to face me, and I realize I'm alone, two on one. The Hellion's face, spattered with Florent's blood and lit from below by the fallen torch, is like something outta my worst dreams – eyes hidden in darkness, only a disembodied nose and mouth stained red, and twisted to a leer of contempt. She must've recognized me.

"Back for another lesson?" she taunts.

I may have liked Florent well enough, but he got himself killed and that's his lookout. I'm not getting dead trying to avenge him. So I just snarl at her, and turn and run again. This time, I don't stop for anything.

Five or ten minutes later, I manage to find my way back to the road. Rodin, Clairwil, and a couple of the others are picking through the wreckage of the carriage. They look pissed off.

"You find them?" asks Clairwil.

"We got separated. Jean, Florent, and at least one other guy are all dead. I found them in a clearing," I lie. "They must have got the drop on them while we were split up. Figured no point stayin' around to get killed. Anyone else make it back?"

"Fuck!" yells Rodin, ignoring my question. He's having a tantrum, pounding the metal side of the overturned carriage. I look at Clairwil and point my thumb at Rodin.

"What's with him?"

Clairwil looks grim as he answers. "Carriage had plenty of food, plenty of bandages and medicine, and no gold or valuables at all. One of those two must have nicked anything worth taking when they crawled out. All these boys dead, and we got nothing to show for it."

"Fuck!" yells Rodin again. I shake my head in disbelief.

"Fuck," I agree.