Witch Bane (19 page)

After she’d gone, Deborah turned to
Gracelin, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper. “We have only a
short time to bring this to a close before the rest of the Council
learns of Carrance’s death and our rogue warlock’s part in it, and
then in turn, our own. It serves our interest to remain in the area
until he is slain. Stay close to Shade, should she need assistance.
I will remain with the Guard and scour the forest.”

“
Have you heard from Graves?” Gracelin
asked.

Deborah shook her head, feeling her cheeks
warm. “I feel the Lord has somehow managed to slip his leash. For
all his supposed effort, Emerald still remains lost and Elizabeth
is yet alive and free to cause chaos. Were he trying, I’ve no doubt
he would have found them by now. The bastard confounds me, and
plays at politics, but I do not have time for his petty rebellion.
Should you see him, be sure to bring the dog to heel. We could use
his arm in the fight to come.”

Gracelin grinned, a semblance of her natural
color returning to her face. “I will.” She reached out and took
Deborah’s hand in hers. Gracelin gave it a gentle squeeze and
pulled away, their hands parting with slow reluctance. “This will
be over soon.”

Deborah nodded, unwilling to voice her fear.
They said their farewells, and the Green Witch left to follow
Shade. Deborah turned to the soldiers.

“
Fan out and find the abomination.
Whoever brings me the murderer’s head will find the reward to be
beyond their greatest imagining.”

The soldiers raised a raucous roar and
stormed into the trees. Deborah followed after, wishing she shared
their foolish enthusiasm.

Twenty-Two

Beyond the door was another tunnel, the
gloom somewhat lifted by a dim, flickering light at the end.
Sebastian moved toward it, controlling his every footstep to remain
silent. He thought to summon the shadows to conceal his presence,
but decided against it. Too weary from the trials of the past few
days, he felt it best to reserve what energy he had left should he
be forced into a confrontation. Not wanting to fight, he simply
wanted to find Jonas or the fat man and learn of the resistance
group’s whereabouts so that he might find his father. Fortunately,
killing Jonas would hardly sap his strength, at all. He grinned at
the thought.

He slowed even further as he heard an almost
rhythmic shuffling noise coming from ahead. The sound steady, but
not seeming to draw any closer, Sebastian continued on, He hugged
the inside wall on the side the glow emanated from and inched
forward. After what seemed an eternity, he came upon the edge of
the tunnel, a room of uncertain size extending off to the left of
it, nothing but a stone wall in front, some fifty feet ahead.

Sebastian crept to the corner and took a
surreptitious glance into the room. His heart fluttered at the
unexpected sight, and he darted back behind the wall. He waited a
moment to let his pulse settle, and then glanced around once more
to be certain of what he’d seen.

Against the far wall, there were four metal
cages, with thick, steel bars running from floor to ceiling, set
side by side. Inside each was a griffin. The beasts shuffled from
foot to foot within the confined spaces, each turned so that their
heads faced the wall. Their wings were pinned to their sides,
unable to extend because of the bars of their cages. Makeshift
muzzles were tied about their beaks, the steady huff of their
breath loud in the confined space. A humid, foul stench hovered in
the air, mixed with the sour scent of excrement.

With nothing living in the room save for the
beasts, Sebastian slipped around the corner without worrying about
being quiet. He knew the griffins would scent him soon enough, but
with them silenced and locked inside the cages he wasn’t worried
they’d give him away or do any harm. Their shuffles increased as he
moved behind them, but the creatures gave no sign beyond that they
had even noticed him. Sebastian smiled. He needed no further
complications.

Once in the room, the true scope of it
amazed him. On the opposite side of the griffin pens was an immense
storage area. Weapons hung from large, iron nails hammered at every
hand span into the stone walls: an assortment of axes, spears,
maces, and swords of all kinds. Piled on the floor below were
jumbled masses of leathered suits of armor, all dyed the crimson of
the Red Guard. Like the weapons, the armored suits were in various
states of repair, some appearing unused and others as though they’d
been through a war or two, most appearing somewhere in between.

At the far end of the room were a number of
the wooden transports used by the Guard. Broken down into their
elemental pieces, it was hard for Sebastian to determine the exact
number, but the stacks of reinforced wood easily stood as tall as
he, and likely taller. Beside them sat the steel pins that held the
beds together, as well as the reins and tackle equipment that
lashed it to the beasts for hauling.

Sebastian recognized more common
supplies—rope, grapples, strips of leather, whetstones, waterskins,
dried food—as he moved about the room, each stored away in a
reasonable semblance of order. There was no question the resistance
had been foraging a long time to gather the stores they’d hidden
away. It was clear by what they had that Elizabeth intended to take
the fight to the witches at one point, exactly as she had said.
There was far too much of the Guard’s equipment stashed in the room
to think there was no plan behind its use.

He worked his way to the back of the room,
where another tunnel led away from the store room. Also dim, but
with a light in the distance, Sebastian went into it with caution.
Nothing sounding ahead, he moved along with relative confidence.
The tunnels carrying distant sounds through their lengths, he felt
he would hear the men coming long before they came upon him. As
they weren’t expecting anyone inside their sanctuary, Sebastian had
no expectation they would bother to hide the noise of their
passage. He needed only to be certain to remain quiet, and he would
have no problem avoiding anyone he did not wish to encounter.

With no idea as to how far the catacombs
extended, his only concern was that he might get lost before he
could find one of the resistance men to show him the way out. That
would be an embarrassing end to his adventure.

Thinking of the look on his father’s face
were that to happen, he edged to the end of the tunnel with a grin
upon his face, and peeked around it. Another large room lay beyond,
packed tight with rows of wooden cots. At the end of each were
small, wooden chests without locks, making it obvious the room was
used as a barracks off sorts. At the far end was a closed door. The
cots were bare as though they hadn’t been used in some time.

Sebastian started into the room, to
examine the chests, when he heard something thump against the door,
a sliver of light spilling through the edges as it cracked open. He
darted behind the wall as the hinges squealed, and he heard a
muttered complaint. The door slammed shut right after. A soft glow
cast long shadows into the tunnel, the light shifting back and
forth a moment before it settled, a metallic
clunk
sounding when it did. The rough voice
grumbled again and Sebastian recognized it once more.

He peered around the corner and spied Jonas
standing beside a small lantern set upon the stone floor. Over his
shoulder he lugged the sack the fat man had carried earlier, the
telltale red greaves jutting out from the opening. Jonas’s faced
was contorted in annoyance, his lips pulled down to form a ‘U’. The
lantern left behind, the old man walked down the center of the
barracks, grumbling the entire way, his eyes on the ground. He was
headed for the storeroom.

Sebastian shifted his sword to his left hand
and readied himself behind the cover of the wall. He could hear
Jonas drawing closer, leadened steps stomping hard against the
stone floor. As soon as his face was visible, Sebastian lashed out,
his fist crashing into Jonas’s nose.

There was a sharp crack and Jonas let out a
pained grunt. The bag slipped from his shoulders and he stumbled
over it as he fell backward. He landed hard on the stone ground, a
spray of blood erupting from his broken nose. Jonas’s eyes swam in
their sockets as Sebastian smiled, moving in to straddle the man,
the point of his sword pressed against Jonas’s neck.

“
Remain quiet or whatever sound you
make will be your last,” Sebastian told him in a whisper, his
finger to his lips.

Jonas blinked a couple of times, and his
eyes at last came to focus on Sebastian. He swallowed against the
point of the sword and gave the barest of nods.

Sebastian’s grin grew wider. “You’ve caused
me a lot of grief, Jonas, but if you cooperate, you might just live
to be a thorn in someone else’s side. Understand?”

Again he nodded shallow. A slick sheen of
sweat glistened across his forehead.

“
Where are your friends?”

“
In the dining hall, on the other side
of the caverns.” His words were wet sputters, the blood from his
nose running down the back of his throat.

“
Good. Now tell me where Elizabeth is
camped.”

Jonas’s eyes narrowed and he breathed out
hard, crimson bubbles forming at his nose. “I—”

“
As much as I want to put my blade to
you for what you did back in Deliton, I have no issues with the
witch, and I intend your people no harm. I only wish to find my
father who was headed to your camp.” He leaned in closer, giving
the point of his sword the slightest emphasis. “Lead me there and
you walk away with all your limbs still attached.”

The man didn’t hesitate. “I’m yours.”

Sebastian stared at him a moment and then
nodded, stepping to the side to allow the man to get to his feet.
Jonas got up slow, his hands out to show he intended nothing
rash.

“
You’ve seen me fight, Jonas, and you
know what I’m capable of.” He reached out and tapped the healed
scar on the man’s arm where Sebastian had cut him. “Stay true to
your word,” Sebastian told him, feeling the need to reinforce the
man’s compliance.

“
I understand, boy, no need to
bluster.”

Sebastian poked the point of his sword
toward Jonas and motioned toward the tunnel with his eyes. Jonas
flinched to avoid it and started forward. He’d felt its bite and it
was clear he wanted nothing more to do with it.

They moved slowly through the corridor,
Sebastian listening ahead to see if Jonas had been lying about the
location of his companions. He heard only the sounds of the caged
griffins, the restless scuff of their paws on the stone floor.

Staying close behind Jonas, once they’d
reached the pens, Sebastian whispered, “What’s with all the Red
Guard equipment?”

Jonas glanced over his shoulder and
shrugged. “I don’t know. The witch has been collecting it for
years, but she hasn’t shared her plans with me. I’m just an errand
boy.”

“
Is that why you tried to burn us out,
so your master would pay more attention?” Sebastian pressed his
sword against Jonas’s spine.

The man stiffened, but didn’t stop walking.
He nodded. “I figured if you thought the Red Guard had tried to
roust you, you might be more willing to take the fight to them. The
witch would have looked favorably on the man who recruited you. I
wasn’t trying to hurt you or your pa.”

“
Only your friends, right?”

He shrugged. “That wasn’t my aim either, but
we’re fighting a war. Men die every day.”

Sebastian shook his head and swallowed a
laugh. Jonas had shown his true colors; he was a mercenary at
heart. While that might not be a respectable trait for a soldier,
or a trait you wanted in a man you had to trust, his lack of
loyalty to anyone but himself was exactly what Sebastian was
counting on. There was no betrayal in Jonas’s world, only
individual arrangements that kept him alive a little longer.
Sebastian could be certain he would be compliant for as long as no
opportunity arose to offer him a better option.

There would be problems once they reached
the resistance camp, the threat of Elizabeth likely to eclipse his
own in Jonas’s estimation. Until then, though, the man was bought
and paid for as long as he thought death would be his reward for
changing sides.

That suited Sebastian fine. He only needed a
guide to the camp. If Jonas gave him cause to kill him then, it
would only be fate signaling it was the right thing to do.
Sebastian chuckled low in his throat and patted Jonas on the
shoulder.

“
Lead on, my faithful
companion.”

Twenty-Three

Free of the false wall, Jonas leading the
way, and out into the woods once more, Sebastian settled in behind
the resistance man. He gave him just enough room to be sure he
wouldn’t be caught off guard should he rebel, yet stayed close
enough to put him down. As Sebastian presumed, Jonas did nothing to
put himself at risk. He remained silent as they slipped from the
caverns and away from his companions, never once even bothering to
glance back. All of Jonas’s movements were exaggerated and obvious;
he made no move that could be seen as aggressive, even keeping his
hands to his sides and in plain view.

Tired and battered, Sebastian found he had a
hard time keeping his focus on the man. Without the threat of
danger or betrayal, there was nothing to spark the adrenaline in
his system to keep him on task. He found himself drifting, his
thoughts wandering through his memories of the Red Witch and his
first meeting with Elizabeth, and especially the orgy at the
resistance camp. Though he suspected what the witch intended,
Sebastian little more than a puppet in her machinations, he
couldn’t help but imagine himself within the circle of women, all
there to please him. For all its collective attachment and
expectation, it was an alluring thought; one he had a hard time
dismissing.