Blood For Wages

9: A Confession

"And here was me thinking that that bitch was ugly enough in life," Lenix Allaway said, looking down distastefully at the remains of Faith's face.

"Funny, I'd have thought that she'd be on an equal footing with many of the women you've bedded, brother," Gil said. "Even now."

Fergus came over and tipped his big bearded head on one side. Looked down at the Faith's caved in head, the dried blood that had leaked out her ears and pooled in the dirt, the smashed in nose with the white bone and pale pink cartilage peaking out; a colour that ought never to see the light of day.

"Probably better looking than many of 'em, truth be told," he said.

Lenix shoved his twin brother in the chest, while Fergus snorted in amusement.

"Still think you could have let us give the prisoner a sound kickin', McCrae," the big, bald man grunted. "Only fair."

"I know what a kicking can lead to," she replied. "Let's just get him to fucking Castle Dreymark and be done with it."

Fia looked around the company. They were all harsh, rugged bastards who'd been hammered hard on the anvil of life. They'd seen, and probably done, plenty worse. Even the god-talker, Cleric Vass, looked more weary than shocked. Only Lorna Forbes looked properly disturbed. Her sad face was drawn, her brown eyes fixed on the dead woman's mutilated features.

"Anyone fancy stripping her down to see what she has of value?" Fia asked, mounting her brumby.

"I believe tying a steak to one's pecker and running through a pack of hungry dogs holds more appeal," Darach Lees said, twirling his moustache.

"That can still be arranged, Lees," Fia said. "It was your watch Faith was killed on."

"I told you, I was gone for no more than a few moments, while I took care of some personal business," Lees said acidly.

Hunter snorted mockingly through a cloud of foul cigar smoke and Lees shot the sunken-eyed woman a venomous glance.

"A few moments while you take a shit is all that this son of a bitch needs," Fia said. She pointed at Gunn, whose face was covered in flecks of dried blood and who had a bruise under one eye from Fergus' headbutt. His gaze moved from one member of the company to the next.

"Faith doubted his reputation and now she's lying there with a face like a smashed crab," Fia continued. "There's a subtle lesson there. Now, shut up and mount up."

"What about the departed?" Cleric Vass asked, motioning towards Faith's body. "Surely, we should do the good thing and bury her?"

"Ain't no time, Vass," Fia said. "And I don't know how you'd gauge 'good' out here. Besides, if there's anyone following us, it might give them pause."

"Or, it might tell them that their leader is alive and well," Lorna Forbes said in a small voice.

"Maybe," Fia said. "Either way Faith stays above ground. Let any beast desperate enough come and pick at her bones if they will. And Hunter?"

Hunter looked up at Fia.

"Faith's made herself useful one last time," Fia said. "She's gifted you a new horse."

Fia led the procession of eight remaining riders over the grassland and towards the hills to the north of them. These hills were the commonly recognised border that separated the tribelands of Arifold, in which they now rode, and Kynthwaite on the western side of them. At a point a day or so south of the Foldwood, these hills banked east in a sudden sweeping arm and rose into steep tors, between which a labyrinthine series of gullies and passes wound their way.