Chapter 9

Bertran smiled and said, “If you two are done arguing like an old married couple, can we get down to business?” He was trying not to laugh at them.

Brena looked at him, then Andrew, then back at Bertran. Franks was leaning on the door jamb, grinning. Randel was standing back from the door, just far enough to be out of reach should either lunge at them. “What?” she snapped. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not interrupt when a woman is about to give her man a good thrashing?” He nodded negatively, still trying to not laugh at Brena. “Well then, you missed a crucial life lesson. After the fight comes the makeup sex.” Now she was angry and building a solid head of steam. Andrew knew she would send at least one or two to see the Lady quite soon. “I am horny and need a good screwing. You have gone and interrupted my getting my cherry re-popped and a solid pounding to rearrange my insides.” She gave no warning; Randel and Franks suddenly had a dagger sticking out of their chests. Franks fell to his knees, attempting to pull the blade free. When he pulled it, his eyes went wide as the blade finished slicing his heart open. Franks fell forward, driving the blade deeper. He was dead in seconds. Randel looked down, the hilt the only part that could be seen. He pulled it loose, and blood sprayed from his chest. He fell to the side, joining his friend in the afterlife.

Bertran had frozen as soon as Brena had thrown the blades. He was sure she was aiming at him. “Now, you can let us go, and we will leave you alive to care for those that haven’t bled out yet, or we can kill you too.” She said this calmly and coldly. Bertran stepped back several yards. He motioned for them to go. He knew to piss off an armed woman could be extremely dangerous but deadly he had not fully considered.

Andrew kept an eye on him as they left the mill. When they were near the wood line, Bertran rushed inside to check on the others. “Are any still alive, Andy?” asked Brena. “Two should be; at least, they will live.” “You really are reluctant to kill today,” she said.

Andrew walked silently, looking for where he had crossed the river earlier. Just before they could step down to the water, an arrow sprouted from Brena’s right calf. She fell with a startled scream. Andrew was just able to catch her before she fell off the shallow ledge into the river. He pulled her to the tree line and looked to see Bertran holding a bow with another arrow ready to fire.

“Ok, that does it. That son of a bitch dies,” whispered Andrew. “Can you get the arrow out alone,” he asked. Brena nodded; she could. “When I return, you can simultaneously heal my arm and your leg.” He stepped out of the cover, watching Bertran. He could see the arrow coming as it was released. He dove to the ground just before the arrow arrived, avoiding another hole in his body. Scrambling to his feet, he took off at a dead sprint towards the kidnapper. Bertran had managed to pull and nock another arrow just as Andrew made contact. Andrew and Bertran tumbled to the ground from the impact, and Bertran was stunned. Andrew wanted to scream from hitting his damaged arm, but he held it in and proceeded to pound Bertran’s head into the rocky ground.

Seeing his enemy stunned and nearly out cold, Andrew drew his uninjured arm back, then slammed an open palm strike upwards into Bertran’s nose, driving the bones and cartilage up into his brain, killing him instantly. Andrew rolled off of the corpse, chest heaving for breath while trying to sit up. He looked at the mill and saw Hara awake again, watching him warily. He frowned and said, “Well, come on, I haven’t got all day.” He was on his knees and had his sword drawn now.

Hara frowned and remained silent. She pulled her top off and stood there, just staring at him. Andrew cringed at what he saw. Besides the damage he had done to her, she had a brand over her left breast. It was an owner’s slave mark. He could also see scars from repeated lashing with a cane or whip. She was the property of one of these men. When she finally spoke, it was a voice of resignation. “I killed them, putting them out of their misery and mine. That,” she pointed at Bertran, “was my master.” She took several steps towards the body, stopping next to it. Without warning, she drove the heel of her left foot down into the head of the dead man. “I am free of you, you bastard,” she snarled. She looked at Andrew, not looking happy. “You are my master now.”

Andrew took a moment to digest this little announcement. He blinked several times, trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t own slaves; I kill slavers.” “Well, you own me now,” Hara said. “You won me in fair combat, just like he did.” Andrew was flummoxed. He didn’t know what to do right then. “Get your clothes on, woman. We are a mess, and Brena can help us and herself.” He started back towards where he had left Brena, only to see her limping towards him. She saw Hara following Andrew and became angry.

“Why is she still alive?” Brena demanded.

Andrew stopped and waited for Brena to come to him. Her injured leg slowed her movement. Brena got the message, “Sorry, the pain is getting to me.” She studied Hara but didn’t see the slaver’s brand under the dress. Andrew turned to her and said, “Remove the top, Hara, show her.” Hara did not argue, nor did she resist the order. When she had the shirt in hand, Brena gasped at the brand over her breast. “Brena, I know this is asking a lot of you. Can you remove the brand while healing all of us?”

Brena looked at Hara, “I can heal you and remove the brand. Is that what you want?” she asked the kidnapper.

Hara fell to her knees, starting to cry. “Please. They took me from my home five years ago. I have always wanted to go back, but with the slave brand, I couldn’t.” She looked at Andrew, her eyes begging him, “Please,” she whispered.

“How old are you,” Brena asked.

Hara looked back at Brena, “I was twelve when they took me. I am around seventeen now.” She paused, thinking. “They kept me after killing my first Master rather than pass me on to another that was to take me north. Bertran said he wouldn’t send me to the lizards in the north. I was too pretty and a good piece of ass, as he put it, to be sent away to them to be eaten.”

Brena looked at Andrew, and he stared back, “The Ice Spine again,” muttered Brena. She decided, “I will heal you after caring for my man here. So sit; it will be a while before I can get to you.” Hara lowered herself to the ground, kneeling, face looking down. Brena knew this was a submissive position slaves used. She would deal with that later. Andrew needed her attention right away. His arm was still bleeding slightly. He had started to get pale from the loss of blood. “Sit, Andy, you will be out cold when I finish with you; I may be too.” He lowered himself, dropping to the ground as his strength finally gave out. Brena laid her hands on his damaged arm and willed her healing energy to flow into him.

Hara had looked up enough to follow what was happening. She watched in fascinated horror as the wounds closed and healed on the man, then just as quickly appeared on the woman. She jerked back when Brena let out a loud groan of pain as all the wounds hit her at once. He had a mild concussion on top of the cuts. She thought her head wanted to fly off her shoulders. She had set herself down next to him so she wouldn’t be hurt when falling.

Brena could feel the cut on the arm healing rapidly as the skin drew closed and knit. Her head recovered less quickly, but the throbbing did let up. Her vision blurred for a few minutes but cleared as her talent repaired her. She could feel bruising on her back and ribs now. The fight had damaged him extensively, and she wondered how he managed to stay on his feet, much less awake. She looked at Hara, who had a look of terror on her face. “Don’t worry, girl, I’ll be fine in a while. This is my talent that manifested not too long ago.” She muttered, “Dammit, the hymen just grew back again.” She felt a few cuts and bruises of her own healing. Brena picked up Andrew’s water jug and took a large swig of the warm water. Now, she wished she had accepted the small chiller rod from Ledger. Cold water would taste perfect right now. Andrew started to stir while she drank. She held the mouth of the jug to his lips, and he drank. He nearly emptied the container before he stopped. He had needed to replace a lot of blood. He sat up slowly, looking around, then made Brena lay back. He placed his small pack under her head, and she closed her eyes.

Hara had remained where she had knelt before Brena had started. She looked up enough and asked, “Will she heal me? I have been hurt many times.”

“How have you been injured, Hara, “Andrew asked quietly. He was tired now. Sleep was calling, but he didn’t want to leave Brena unguarded longer than he had to.

“Master, I have had both arms and legs broken as punishment.” She stood and removed her top. She turned slowly around so Andrew could see the mass of whipping scars on her back, as well as the ones he had seen on her front. She removed her pants and underclothing, leaving her totally nude. He could see scars all over her legs, back, shoulders, arms, and what looked like a line of stitches up the back of her head. Andrew knew they wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. Brena would need at least a full day to recover from this damage. Hara turned and pointed at her lower abdomen. A line ran across where a baby would be if she were with a child. He could make out the stitch marks there as well. “What made that injury, Hara,” he said, pointing at the last.

Hara began to cry, “I became with child. He cut it out with the part the baby grew in. I can never have children. That is why he didn’t send me north.” Hara was back on her knees, remaining nude. She refused to look up at him now. Andrew wasn’t sure Brena could heal that level of damage. Hell, Hara was lucky to still be alive from all the damage she had taken in just a few years. Andrew looked over at the corpse of the man who had done this to the girl. He could see tears dripping from her as she knelt. The Lady needed to do something special with that monster.

Elsewhere.

The Judge of Souls looked at the little band that had arrived in her domain. ‘Oblivion is too good for all of you. I will send you to, hmmm. Ah, that will work. They would awaken in infant girl bodies, in the land of the serpent men, waiting their turn to be breeders, then food. Worse still, they would remember this life but cannot tell anybody or act on that knowledge. They would know as they repeated the same punishment, over and over, for each hurt they had laid upon that helpless girl. They would live for a long, long time.

Fairham’s Cove, Broken Sword Hotel.

Gareth watched as the city guard attempted to open the vault. They had a warrant from the palace judge, so he had to let them in. Nothing on the paper said he had to help them. The leader, Captain Trammel, turned on Gareth and slammed his fist into his face, knocking the old man to the floor. “Open the door, old man, or I will kill you and burn this place to the ground.” Gareth didn’t want to die right then, and having his life’s work destroyed that way would annoy him to no end.

“Oh, very well,” Gareth said. Trammel knew Gareth would have harsh words for him later, but he was just following his orders from the crown. Gareth stood and pulled the key from his pocket to open the door. He stopped when several of the guards fell to the floor, their heads spouting blood and brains. The tops of their skulls had been removed in an instant. Trammel looked around, searching for whatever it was that had killed several of his men. There was another blur; the rest fell, their heads wholly removed. Only Trammel remained. Gareth returned the key to his pocket.

“Aco, that’s enough,” Gareth said. He heard a motion behind him. Then the voice he didn’t want to hear spoke. “Oh, come now, Aco could never kill like this. I got to come out and play today.” It was Claw; she was loose and not controlled. It would be an evil thing for many folks should Aco not regain control soon. “Oh, don’t worry, old man. Aco is here, and I will go back to sleep once a message is sent to that idiot on the throne.” Aco/ Claw grabbed Trammel by the throat and slammed him into the wall, making a fair-sized dent in the plaster and wood wall. “Get this, little man, make sure the king understands as well. Leave my friends alone, or I will come for him. Make sure he fully understands; now be gone.” Aco vanished, taking the stunned guard with her. Gareth rubbed his throbbing jaw, ‘I’m glad she’s on our side,’ he whispered. He about jumped out of his skin when Claw whispered behind him, “For now, old man, only for now.”