The Jack of Souls (Multi-award winner!)

Chapter 10b - Fist Over Fingers

Caris stalked down the unfinished servant passage between the inn's largest bunkrooms, armor clanking dully. The passages were narrow, made for smaller maids than she, and certainly not for a big one in armor. She turned sideways to get through some places, and even so bumped the panels of bare wattle, knocking out chunks of rough plaster.

She had found no sign of Harric in these passages, however, and none of the servants had seen him in the public spaces, though they said the place was crawling with squires on the hunt for him. Dreading the worst, she'd finally asked a pot boy which room had been taken by Sir Bannus, and ended up here. Bannus was on the other side of the wall to her right. Was Harric?

The immortal spoke on the other side of the wall, a low rumble that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Another voice followed, but too faint to identify.

Where are you, Harric?

A familiar roar of confusion rose behind her eyes. It had been growing since she left Harric, and now it began to reach a dangerous pitch. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing felt choked and crowded.

Not now. Not here....

She sank to her knees and leaned against the left wall of the passage. Squeezing her eyes shut, she slipped her fingers under her helm, into her ears. The sound of her own breath grew loud in her private darkness. She let the rhythmic rush of it calm her, like the crash of waves on the beach below her father's castle, which had hushed her to sleep as a child. Breathe. Breathe. The roaring receded. When her heart slowed to a manageable rate, she opened her eyes, and dropped her hands. She felt a small twinge of hope at the knowledge she was getting better at stilling the roar this way. Two months ago when I first came here, I would have balled up and moaned on the floor.

She climbed to her feet, careful not to bump the right-hand wall. The immortal's voice rumbled again, laughing, this time. It sent more needles up her spine. She ground her teeth in frustration. Even if Harric was in there, what in the Black Moon would you do about it? Anything? She snorted. Why are you even looking for him? You should be on the road by now, on your own, and gone. You should walk out of here right now, mount up, and ride.

She stalked forward to find the first exit and leave. As she balled her hands into fists, Harric's rings bit into her finger, and her guts flipped with unfamiliar emotions. She stopped in her tracks. The roaring returned behind her eyes.

Gods leave me! Where in the Black Moon is he?!

The wall before her exploded, and Harric flew through it in a shower of shattered wood and plaster. He slammed the opposite wall, rebounded, and crumpled at her feet, limp as a dish rag. If she'd been two paces farther along the passage, she'd have been clobbered. Harric too had been lucky, in a way, for if he'd hit one of the posts between panels of wattle, he'd have been crushed by the impact; instead, he'd hit square in the center of a panel that tore free from the posts and flew with him into the passage.

In the darkness beyond the new hole, a shadowy colossus loomed alone.

A chill confusion rose and swallowed her. Part of her knew that as a woman in armor she was an abomination to Sir Bannus and the Old Ways. She knew Bannus was probably mad with blood lust. She knew he was probably drunk and unpredictable. But all of that was lost in blind panic for Harric. While dust still swirled in the passage, she scooped him in her arms and ran.

Deep laughter followed. "Sir Cobalt! Well met. Take the bastard and hang him. I will sleep and dream." She heard no more, for she blundered through the passage until she found an exit and burst into the stable yard. She staggered to one side in sudden darkness, caromed off the stone wall of the inn, then stopped and laid Harric in the dust. She tore off her helmet and laid her ear to his chest, terrified at what she might find.

His heartbeat was loud and strong. Tears of relief welled in her eyes, yet even as she wept she cursed the unfamiliar emotions.

What's wrong with you? Get hold of yourself!

A guest door from the inn opened, not ten paces away. For a terrifying moment Caris feared it was Sir Bannus, but it was only a trio of squires. They swaggered into the yard, wearing silk evening clothes and light swords, and the expressions of eager hunters. When they saw Caris stooped over Harric, they halted, then came to her.

"You found him!" one said.

"If you thtand him up, Thir," said another, "and I'll bash him a new thmile." The speaker grinned, displaying toothless gums as he polished a rock the size of an apple on his tunic.

"I have the right to cut his balls off," said the third. This one Caris recognized as the Sapphire's squire, whose lance she'd broken. She stood, and he halted short, confusion on his brow as the torchlight illumined her face. Before he could draw his sword, her mailed fist crashed into the side of his head and he fell like a stone. More blows followed, but Caris barely remembered them.

She woke from a blur of fury to find herself on her knees, straddling a motionless body. She'd been balled over it, rocking back and forth. She had no idea how long she'd been there, only that her arms were tired from blows, and the face of the squire beneath her was so crushed and disfigured it nearly made her vomit. Three others lay senseless beside her. One was Harric.

What in the Black Moon is wrong with me?

Trembling, she stood and surveyed the bodies around her. She had to get Harric to Mother Ganner. He always called her his "true mother." Mother Ganner would hide him and get him on his feet and out the door in the darkness. The kitchens, she thought. It isn't far. I can leave him with Mother Ganner, and depart without any more delay.

She dragged the squires to the deepest shadows against the inn, then hoisted Harric to her shoulder. He was surprisingly light, even with a pack on, so she bore him quickly along the back of the lodge to the kitchens.

The yard was empty. It seemed there had been no witnesses, and darkness was deepening, which would completely cloak her escape, once she left Harric in good hands.

The door to the kitchen was open. She looked up and down the yard to be sure she wasn't spotted, then mounted the stone step and entered.

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