A Game of Ice and Shadows: 5

How the fuck many are there? Hank wondered. It hadn’t been a day after the first group of fucks tried to kill him that another one came out, looking for him. He hadn’t used his guns—didn’t have ammunition to waste. They even had a wagon. But Hank didn’t run. They also had horses, and he bet that wagon had supplies—that he was gonna need.

But they never seemed to have run into a warrior adept before. Hank moved through one’s defense, punching him in the chest and shattering it, before he dodged another blow, crushing his throat.

The problem was, he didn’t really wanna kill them… but they were leaving him no choice.

And the cart had the horses he’d sent off from the first group tied to it.

These are the ones the first group were part of… Which meant that if he killed them all…

They might not get a message back to their friends. Not for a while.

Hank didn’t like killing, not really. Beyond the fact that, according to Old Jake, it left a scar on your soul, killing someone, as opposed to knocking them around, tended to have pissed off relatives showing up. But…

But they weren’t backing off. They’d seen what he did, and they weren’t backing off. He went into the motions, kicking and fighting, the path of the warrior guiding him. A warning screamed through his senses, and Hank jerked his head back just in time for an arrow to go zipping through the space where it had been. He grabbed one of the assholes trying to kill him and spun him around just in time for another arrow to go right into his back. Hank dropped the screaming man and with most of his close fanclub dead, unslung his rifle.

The guy on the horse laughed, lining up his bow to get a shot—and Hank sent one round into his head.

Hank checked everyone. Dead.

Himself, a few scratches. The cart…

He could sense someone in it. Hank moved forward, rifle slung, but ready to fight and…

Half a dozen women, bound, naked, looked up at him. One screamed at his toothy expression.

“Hey, hey!” Hank said, holding his hands up. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Chummers.” Please let them understand me… This might not be a metaplane, but maybe that…

“Are you a monster?” one of the younger—holy shit, a kid—girls said.

“Uh, no,” Hank said, quickly throwing up a hand to block off seeing way  too much in the way of naked people who clearly didn’t want to be looked at. “I’m an Orc.”

“O-orc?”

“Not from around here. Can you tell me, who were the assholes I killed?”

“They are the horse lords. We were given to them as tribute by our last owners,” the oldest said. “That we can be used…”

“Huh. Don’t feel so bad about killing ‘em. Okay, you’re free.”

The girls set up a clamor. “No! If they take us, they will burn us. Better to stay here! Tell them that we didn’t…” The girl’s voice trailed off as the oldest, a chick who looked about 16, glared at her.

“We saw one man slaughter six horse lords in as many minutes. Do you think they will let slaves live to tell that tale?”

“But he’s a monster! Surely they would understand that it was no man who—“

“Hey, I’m here, and don’t sound like you’re humanis.”

“Ho-man-is?”  the younger girl said.

“Never mind,” Hank muttered. “Right, nearest place we can go where they can’t follow?”

“We are slaves but…”

“My father is a merchant of Braavos. I had…” The oldest girl’s voice faded. “Accepted I would never be found once the pirates took me from my ship, but… if we can get to Braavos. He would protect us—and reward you.”

“Right,” Hank said. “You know how to get there?”

“I know how to get to Volantis and we can hire a ship… the cart included treasure.”

“They will re-enslave us in Volantis,” another girl said.

“No. Maybe not. If they enslaved everyone who came to hire a ship, none would come.”

“Great. Better than wandering around here,” Hank said. “You gotta name?”

“Varice Greenstar.”

“Right.” Hank paused. “Can you all ride?”

“Most of us.”

“Okay, I’m gonna cut you all loose, then get clothes, if they don’t have any for you, take ‘em off the bodies. We’ve got… enough horses…”

“The warhorses will not allow us to mount them…”

“Fine, the four horses on the wagon team.” Hank nodded. “Hurry up, grab what we need, and we leave the wagon.”

“But why?” The little girl said, as Hank cut their bonds, trying to ignore the fact that you really didn’t want to look away when you were using a knife.

Lot of bruises. Lot of bruises in particular places.

Yeah. Definitely not regretting killing ‘em.

“Because we’re gonna stay off the easy paths Varice here is gonna guide… you can guide us, right?”

“My father educated me… I know much of the lay of the region,” Varice nodded.

“Right.  They know horses, they like horses, they’ll be faster than us and a wagon leaves a really easy trail.” Hell, I can see it.  The wheels had left two parallel lines of crushed grass. “It may take ‘em a while to notice their lost people. Hopefully long enough for us to get out of here.” He clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s go!”

Ten minutes later, the girls had gotten the horses free from the wagon, and they had finished with the food, water and a few heavy bags. Hank started off, leading one of the horses, with the little kids riding behind two of the older girls, the last two riding their horses by themselves.

Hank didn’t.

I wonder if they realize I have no damn idea how to ride a horse? He thought.

“So, how far is Volantis.”

“A week, if we are lucky.”

“Yeah…” Hank looked around. “Don’t count on being lucky.”

The girl giggled. “Are there many like you where you come from?”

“More than you’d think,” he said. “But none of us count on luck.”

“Why not?” Varice asked. “After all, it was very lucky for us that you came.”

“Hold on that until we get you to your dad.”

“If they capture us again, they will kill us,” Varice shrugged. “Before I knew they would punish the rest if I resisted, but now… I can choose my own ending. So, I am still lucky.”

“Okay,” Hank said as he kept up with the horse. “I guess this world has optimists as well. You’d like my girlfriend…”

“Is that your consort?” 

“Sure, why not…” Hank’s voice faded as they left the cart and the dead lying around it.

Soon, there was no sound save for the croaking scavenger birds who landed for an unexpected feast.