The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 117
“Is he alive?” The barman waved a skinny arm at a nearby patron. “Check him, Juan.” To Never he growled. “You wait there.”
A dark-bearded man rushed to the drunk, eyes narrowed. Muttering swelled – an unpleasant music indeed. A few men held weapons – mostly scythes or knives drawn from beneath tan robes with multi-coloured stripes. If he was feeling ungenerous, Never had to admit that the Marlosi fondness for colour sometimes cast them as somewhat child-like.
Irrational of him to think so, and there was certainly little child-like about their expressions. Or the steel they held.
“He breathes yet,” Never said. He moved toward the door and the barman stepped over to intercept. Never shook his head, pulling his cloak open to reveal a row of knives.
“Gum’s alive,” Juan announced.
“Fine,” the barman said. “Out with you then. Don’t want no trouble makers here anyway.”
“A pleasure.” Never strode from the common room and into the wind. The yellow glow from Petana’s windows didn’t penetrate too far into the night, and the dirt beneath his feet soon turned blue then black with shadow. Candlelight winked in about half of the homes he passed; the thatched rooves were unkempt hair touched with starlight, resting on squat heads thrusting up from the earth. The poetry of a village.
He was a fool for letting his temper get the better of him. At least none had died.
But Gum was still to pay for his belligerence.
He passed no-one on the street, pausing once to wrestle his cloak from a strong gust, then slowed at the edge of the village. A stand of trees encircled the southern end of Petana, beyond which lay the dark road that hopefully led to the coastline, but no lone house...unless...there, right against the trees.
A shack rather than a house, he decided upon reaching it. The roof was a nest of thatching; the door ajar. Never knelt in the entryway and removed the blue-stone from his pack. He rubbed it in his palms until warmth spread, a blue glow rising. “Wonderful.” He stood, took a breath and slipped inside.
The shack reeked of old sweat and rotten food – even holding his breath it was a slap to the face. He sighed, switching to shallow breathing as he stepped over crumpled shirts on squeaking floorboards. The bed was a mound of...unpleasantness and the table featured a half-eaten meal on a broken plate. The pale-blue glow set congealed fat to glistening.
Nothing yet.
A second room looked to be a hasty addition, and held a tall, locked cupboard. Never set the blue-stone down and removed his lock picks from a vest pocket then set to work. The lock soon clicked.
Inside lay a shining breastplate and helm inlaid with the charging stallion insignia of the Marlosa Empire. So the slob had a respectable past. How far he had fallen. Next, Never lifted a heavy dagger in an ornate sheath worked with a Hero’s Seal. He gave a soft whistle. The weapon would have personally been awarded to Gum by the Empress. Before she was driven from her city anyway. Never removed the blade. Beautiful condition. He took the dagger itself but replaced the sheath with a shake of the head. Whatever the drunk had done to earn such an honour, he deserved its memory at least.
Especially when times for the Marlosi were destined to become harder still.
“Now for the stash of coin,” Never murmured. Surely there was one somewhere. Moving back into the first room, he placed the blue-stone on the table and stepped over to the bed. If only he had a nice pair of gloves. He lifted the mattress, pushing it against the wall.
A small pouch lay in the centre of the floor, its drawstring tied.
He smiled. “There you are.”
Light flickered and he spun, Gum’s knife in hand. A dark figure stood in the doorway, stars and the faint glow from the village behind, waiting just beyond the reach of his glowing stone. “What are you doing?” A woman’s voice.
Never chuckled. “Robbing the owner of this house, of course.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I am.” He bent without taking his eye from the figure and retrieved the pouch, untying it with one hand and emptying most of the coins into an inner pocket in his cloak. He grinned. “See?” Then he dropped the pouch back into position, which gave a sad clink.
“Put that back.”
“My dear, I could never do that.”
She shifted, reaching behind her back. The thin outline of an arrow appeared against the starlight. The creak of a bowstring followed.
“Last chance.”
He kept his hands raised and moved slowly toward his blue-stone, collecting his pack. The archer’s silhouette tracked him. “And now I have to leave. Since the hospitality of Petana is so lacking, I have to find a nice ditch to spend the night in.”
“I can thread your eye from here.” Her voice was hard but she sounded young.
He took a step closer. “You’re not a murderer, girl.”
“It’s not murder if I kill a thief. It’s a service.” She paused. “And I’m not a girl.”
“Very well, ‘young lady’, perhaps? Let’s say twenty summers or so?” He took another step and raised the stone. Her arrow was knocked and the bow at half-draw. Pale hands held the weapon – not a local then, and not with those green eyes either. And her cloak was green too. The woman from the inn? Beneath her cloak she wore a light blue tunic with no insignia, rank or sword. Not a Vadiya soldier either – how they hated everyone not knowing exactly their rank and family.
“Stop moving.”
He paused. What was that accent in her command? “Do people mistake you for the invaders?”
“How do you know I’m not Vadiyem?”
“Because your accent isn’t right for Vadiya.” Never shrugged. “In any event, I have to leave. People are following me and they’ll catch up sooner or later.” One more step and the arrow was inches from his chest. “Could you please move aside?”
“No. I’m keeping you here.”
“Not providing a service anymore?” He softened his voice. “Come now, we both know that if you were going to kill me, you’d have done it instead of announcing yourself.”
She drew the string to full stretch. “Sure about that?”
“Are you sure I care either way?”
She frowned.
Never put gentle pressure on the arrow, moving the bow aside. She let him, though her jaw was locked. Her expression wavered between frustration and curiosity. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Killing in cold blood cuts both ways. Let me pass, you’re not ready.”
“Damn you.” She finally stepped aside.
“Thank you.” Never slipped out of the shack and into the trees.
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A Note from Ashley
Hi! I hope you enjoyed The Bone Mask Trilogy and thanks for reading.
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Ashley
About Ashley
Ashley is a poet, novelist and teacher living in Australia. Aside from reading and writing, he loves volleyball, Studio Ghibli and Magnum PI, easily one of the greatest television shows ever made.
You can find him online at Twitter or on his fiction blog, City of Masks and at ashleycapes for poetry. As if that’s not enough, you can also sign up to his newsletter for free books, competitions, giveaways and sneak peeks of forthcoming titles!
Also by Ashley Capes
The Fairy Wren
A Whisper of Leaves
Crossings
Somnus and the March Hare
Book of Never
1. The Amber Isle
2. A Forest of Eyes
3. River God
4. The Peaks of Autumn
5. Imperial Towers (forthcoming)
The Bone War Trilogy
Forthcoming 2018
Ashley Capes, The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set)
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