Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (65 page)

“What’d ya find?” he asked when they
reunited.

“I counted twelve at the fire, two
watch’in
, as you figured,” she
replied and then asked, “And you?”

“The same, ready te head back?” he said,
gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder.

“There
are
some lights flicker’in from a league or so down the road. Let’s go
check them out, we don’t need any surprise company
show’in
up when we didn’t invite them,”
Elizabeth said, to convince Bushwhacker to exceed their orders.

“Yer right, it’ll only delay us a little,
I’m
fer
it,” he said, climbing
into his saddle, then he looked down at Elizabeth and with a smirk
he added, “What yer wait’
in fer
, a
boost?” He waited for her to mount up and then they walked their
horses in the direction of the flickering light.

They found another camp, but this one did
not have the wagons and mules of a merchant train. There were ten
guards and they looked like they were the escorts for one man. The
man they guarded was dressed in the fine clothes of the
aristocracy.

“What is this then?” Bushwhacker asked from
his prone position next to Elizabeth. They had left their horses
behind a hill and both of them were looking down on the camp from
the hilltop. They had approached the top of the hill in a crouch to
keep from being silhouetted by the moon’s light.

“He must be someone of importance, he rates
ten guards. I’ve seen rich merchants with fewer than that,”
Elizabeth replied thoughtfully.

“We’ll have
te
tell Razor about them. They’re too close
te
the merchant, they might ride te his aid,”
the bandit reasoned.

“I’m curious about this man, why don’t ya
wait here while I take a closer look?” Elizabeth suggested.

“Don’t stir them up,” Bushwhacker
cautioned.

“I’ll be as silent as a summer breeze,” she
replied, then slipped back off the crest of the hill.

When Elizabeth drew close to one of their
sentries she concentrated and listened in on his surface thoughts.
When she learned enough she sneaked back to the horses and told
Bushwhacker what she had learned. “I heard two of the sentries
discussing their employer. He’s one of the Usurper’s
kesera
Marshals, sent to collect the taxes from
the local collectors. He’s on his way to Chasser to deliver the
round he has
collected
during the
past month.”

“This pompous looking animal is a tax
collector for the Usurper?” Bushwhacker asked incredulously.

“Yes, even worse he’s the overseer of the
local tax collectors,” Elizabeth explained.

“Wait,” Bushwhacker said, “Ten guards are a
lot, but not enough
te
protect
someone transport’in that much round.
They’d have brought an army, after
all,
they know this is bandit territory,” Bushwacker
reasoned.

Elizabeth knew Bushwhacker’s argument was
correct, but she also knew that the tax collector was down there
with ten guards and the round metal. Elizabeth considered the
facts; they had brought enough guards to fight off a solo highway
robber, but not a large group of bandits. It was as if they knew
they would not be attacked by the Riond bandits. Then something
clicked in Elizabeth’s mind, it was the only thing that made sense
of the facts, and she spoke immediately, “Wernok is in with the
Usurper!” she exclaimed, turning to look in Bushwhacker’s eyes,
“That’s why they know a bandit group won’t attack and that’s why
they don’t need an army of protection.”

Bushwhacker pondered her claim for a moment
“He can’t be, at any time he could have betrayed us and brought the
Usurper down on us all.”

“Right, whenever, it’s just that the time
hasn’t been right. He’s been expanding the band by absorbing
smaller bandit groups. When he has most of them ready he’ll turn us
all in for his pay,” Elizabeth exclaimed, with fire in her
voice.

Doubt was creeping into Bushwhacker’s voice.
“What makes ya think this is true?”

“All the scouts report
te
him, right?” she asked.

The big man nodded.

“Would they have missed a group this close
to the merchant?” she inquired.

“No, they’re too close,” Bushwhacker
admitted.

“Then Wernok knew, but he didn’t warn us
because he didn’t want us attacking them. Razor may be in on it
too, Wernok had te put someone in charge who knew not to bother the
tax collector,
otherwise,
we might
stumble onto them by accident and attack his master's round
collector,” Elizabeth explained. She failed to mention that she
also knew both Wernok and Razor had identical mind shields, proving
that both worked for the same person.

“Ya may be
jump’in
te
conclusions,”
Bushwhacker warned.

“We can test my theory, let’s tell Razor
about the Tax Marshal and then see if he decides to attack or if he
still wants to go after the Belorn merchants,” she advocated.

“All right we'll try it your way, but if he
goes for the tax collector we pretend we never had this little
conversation. Let’s get back and see what unfolds,” he said,
finishing the conversation.

They rode into the bandit camp and found
Razor waiting impatiently before the low coals of the fire. He
stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the red glow of the
coals reflected off his eyes giving him an inhuman look.

“Why are you late?” were his words of
greeting.

“We spotted another party and went to check
them out. They have ten fighters and they’re too close
te
the merchant
fer
my comfort,” Bushwhacker
said
before Elizabeth could speak.

“They are no problem, we go as planned,”
Razor commanded.

“You didn’t even ask how close they were,”
Elizabeth said, stepping forward into the light of the coals.

Razor turned slowly to face Elizabeth as he
said, “We will take the merchant so quickly that they will not even
know anything is amiss.”

“We scouted the second party,” Elizabeth
started to say, but Razor interrupted, “On who’s orders?”

“On our own initiative,” she responded.

“That was foolish, you could have alerted
them to our presence,” Razor rebuked.

“Regardless, we scouted them and found a Tax
Marshal traveling with the round squeezed from the populace of this
entire area, and he’s only guarded by ten men,” Elizabeth
explained.

“How could you learn all that from a quick
scout of their camp?” Razor scoffed.

“I overheard two of the sentries discussing
their employer,” Elizabeth exaggerated.

“Can you confirm?” Razor demanded of
Bushwhacker.

“No, I waited while Poison did the close
scout,” he explained.

“As I thought, our newest member comes with
an unsubstantiated and ridiculous claim, we take the merchant as
planned,” he said, ending the discussion.

Bushwhacker shrugged when Elizabeth looked
to check his reaction.

Razor stepped forward, placing himself next
to Elizabeth, and then leaned down to adjust a branch in the fire.
As he stood he twisted his hidden right hand dropping a dagger out
of his wrist sheath into his waiting palm.

Because of his mind shield Elizabeth could
not read his intention to commit murder, but at that
moment,
she happened to be reading Bushwhacker
in an attempt to see his opinion of Razor.

Bushwhacker saw the knife drop into his
hand, but was too far away to do anything and too slow to
call out
warning.

But Elizabeth saw the picture of the knife
in his mind and tried to twist her body away from the speeding
point of death.

Razor was mildly surprised when his target
tried to move, but he
was too
practiced
a killer to miss so easy a target once his hand
was in motion. His blade took her
in
the side, just missing the kidney for which he had
been aiming.

Elizabeth spun to the ground; her twisting
attempt to avoid the blade saved her from an even worse wound. She
landed on the ground and then rolled to get further away from the
murdering lieutenant.

Razor knew he had struck a mortal wound from
the feel of the knife entering her body. He felt no need to hurry
the final blow, so he walked forward slowly savoring his kill. This
was what he lived for, the terror of his victim, the feel of the
knife sliding into the soft flesh, the light of understanding when
the victim realized their inevitable demise and his ultimate power
and the fading of that light when their life seeped from their
body.

Razor lived for death.

Elizabeth was in great pain and furious with
herself for letting her guard down, but her Kirnath training came
to her aid again and she calmed immediately. Watching through the
eyes of Bushwhacker who stood in mute surprise at the sudden
attack, she saw Razor approaching slowly. Quickly she concentrated
her powers and began to heal the vicious knife wound in her side.
She only needed a few moments of complete concentration to finish
her labor.

Razor stopped to look down at her still
body, preparing for the bliss of her death which unknowingly gave
her the time she needed.

Now completely healed, Elizabeth suddenly
rolled away and up to her feet, a knife appearing in her hand. She
wanted to blast the sick killer who stood before her, but she could
not afford to reveal her powers to the rest of the men. She calmed
herself and Hetark’s voice echoed in her memory as she went over
the instructions he had given her about a knife fight. Then
memories of Poison’s battles flowed through her mind, brought up at
her command.

Razor did not attack when he saw her get up
and take a defensive stance; he waited for the wound to do its
work. He could see a wet stain
on
her side, blood from the wound.

Soon she will be too weak to stand, she
will stagger and her vision will cloud and then I will take
her,
he thought.

But Elizabeth stood strong, waiting.

The other men had begun to stir, getting up
and seeing the two combatants facing each other from six feet
apart.

“What’s go’in on?” one bandit asked.

“Tell them what’s happening, Razor,”
Elizabeth said in a confident tone.

“She endangered you all by exceeding her
commands and scouting another camp, near enough to our target to
alert them, now she’s paying the price of disobedience,” Razor
explained, then moved forward, his knife ready.

Elizabeth could not read his moves, so she
relied on her instruction and memories learned from Hetark and
Poison.

Razor lunged and Elizabeth cut at his arm,
dancing away from the thrust.

“What would you all say if I told you where
you could find a lot of the round taken from your countrymen around
these parts? Taken by the Usurper’s tax collectors and given to the
Tax Marshal,” Elizabeth asked the watching men.

“She lies, there is no Marshal here, he
wouldn’t travel without protection,” Razor countered and then
suddenly threw his dagger at Elizabeth while pulling another from
his thigh sheath. He knew he had to silence her quickly.

Elizabeth dodged and launched three daggers
in return in rapid succession. Razor somersaulted, spun and twisted
to avoid the projectiles. Bandits dodged and ducked, scrambling for
cover.

Elizabeth took that brief moment to get in
another comment, “I scouted their camp, but Razor didn’t want to
tell any of you. I wonder why? He didn’t want me to tell you
either, so he is trying to silence me. Could it be because he knew
about the Tax Marshal even before I told him? Perhaps he is in
allegiance with the Usurper,” she accused.

“She lies, you all know me, she is the
stranger here,” Razor countered, and then launched an attack,
slashing and stabbing, driving Elizabeth back toward a group of
bushes.

“Yes, you all know this man… and is Razor a
man you trust? Is he a patriot of Autrany? Or is he a
cold-blooded
killer who cares for nothing but
himself?” Elizabeth asked.

When she heard some men beginning to grumble
she knew she had hit the right nerve, they were coming over to her
side.

Razor heard it also, and said, “Any man who
sides with this traitor will die on my blade, tonight!” he
threatened.

It was the wrong thing to say, Bushwhacker
called out, “I’ll not put up with yer threats, ya boot lick’in
scum! I was out there with Poison; the Marshal is there, just like
she says!”

Razor felt control of the men slipping away,
so he prepared to finish Poison in his next attack.

Elizabeth knew she had the men on her side,
now she had to finish Razor before he finished her, so she prepared
a plan swiftly and put it into action.

Razor saw his opponent clutch her side and
stagger slightly.

At last,
he thought,
the wound is
taking
effect
.

He watched and saw the opening he needed,
the way in was on her wounded side where she could not parry his
blow. Feinting right he shifted his feet and came in at the
unprotected wounded flank of his opponent.

As Razor anticipated, she did not make the
parry
;
instead,
she made a limber step to the side so that his
thrust only grazed her lightly. The blade barely sliced through her
leather and into the skin. At the same
time,
he felt a thump on his chest as his momentum made
him continue past her position.

He staggered and then turned to face his
elusive opponent knowing he needed to finish her soon. His vision
began to cloud and he staggered a step, he figured he was more
tired than he anticipated. He felt pain and looked down to see a
dagger hilt projecting out of his chest.