could change your skin.’
‘Neither did I,’ said Kjellrunn. She released the bloodied Envoy and stared at one hand, a look of sickened worry on her stony face. Her granite skin shimmered a moment before returning to its normal colour. Marozvolk emerged from the violence to stand beside them.
‘Kjellrunn,’ said the former Vigilant in quiet awe. ‘It takes years to learn how to do that.’
But Kjellrunn paid no attention. She gestured at a cobble by her foot, which she wrenched out of the road by arcane force. Then cobble shot over Kimi’s shoulder, barely missing her ear.
‘You nearly took my head off!’ Kimi shouted before turning to follow Kjellrunn’s furious gaze. The cobble had dented the sergeant’s chest plate and knocked him back a step, but he was still within arm’s reach. Kimi raised her sword but staggered backwards as the soldier slammed her in the face with the butt of the maul. Kimi fell into Kjellrunn and they both sprawled across the Envoy in a heap of limbs.
‘Get off of me!’ complained the Envoy, through a bloody and ruined mouth. Kimi stamped on the man’s face as she regained her feet. Marozvolk parried the sergeant’s next strike, stepping aside and looking for an opening. His armour was scored and dented, but the man showed no sign of giving in.
‘The Envoy has fallen!’ shouted the sergeant, then stepped in closer and swung his maul in a wide arc. Kimi sidestepped the blow and swiped at the sergeant’s knees but the armoured man was surprisingly nimble. Her sword missed its mark and the sergeant replied with a strike at Kimi’s head. The princess folded at the waist to avoid the maul and Marozvolk charged into the man, catching him in the midriff and knocking him down. There was a frenzied scrabble as Marozvolk grasped the sergeant’s maul at each end and pressed down on the man’s throat. He pushed and punched and clawed at Marozvolk but her skin shimmered and turned to stone, weathering his frenzied and desperate attacks. Long seconds passed before the sergeant stopped moving. His arms went slack, his legs stopped kicking, and a dreadful silence descended on the street.
Kimi offered Marozvolk a hand, helping the former Vigilant to her feet.
‘I thought he was going to kill you, your highness,’ said Marozvolk, breathing hard, suddenly formal.
‘I thought the same thing. Thanks for saving me.’
All around were bodies of soldiers. Tief was finishing off the ones who still drew breath, while Sundra attended to the dead and wounded novices.
‘So much for going ahead and scouting to make sure things are safe,’ said Kimi as Romola rounded a corner and looked at the scene of carnage.
‘What have you done?’ said the pirate captain quietly.
The rest of the day was spent disposing of the dead soldiers in the bay. Marozvolk hauled another corpse from the back of the wagon. The novices watched from their position on the ship. They stared down with pale faces, too shocked to speak. They were six less in number now, just seventeen souls. Mistress Kamalov had retired to her cabin, refusing to speak to anyone.
Tief helped Romola and her crew loot the soldier’s bodies, setting aside the coin and stripping the armour. ‘How long before the Empire notices they’re missing?’ he asked quietly.
‘I count eighteen bodies,’ said Kimi.
‘There’s usually ten men to a section,’ said Marozvolk, ‘and three sections to a troop.’
Tief swore under his breath and Romola pressed a hand to her forehead. ‘So there’s another twelve soldiers out there?’ said Tief.
‘We don’t know that,’ said Marozvolk. ‘They might have been under full strength. The other section might be in the next town.’
‘We keep three crew on watch at all times,’ Romola said to her crew. ‘As soon as we sight Imperial soldiers I’m casting off, and I don’t care who’s still ashore.’ She flashed an angry look at Kimi. ‘Where is Steiner?’
Kimi shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen him. I was scouting ahead. That was what we agreed.’ She eyed the captain with a sour look. ‘Who let Mistress Kamalov off the ship with all of those children?’
‘I was overseeing the resupply,’ countered Romola, squaring up to the princess. ‘I can’t be everywhere at once.’
‘You didn’t notice two score of children and an old woman sneaking off your ship?’ said Kimi, taking a step closer. ‘Are you blind?’
‘This isn’t helping,’ said Marozvolk quietly. ‘We dispose of the bodies, we get the supplies, we cast off. You two can blame each other all day long once we’re at sea.’
Kjellrunn sat on a coil of rope at the back of the ship, hunched and folded in on herself, one hand resting against her brow. Time and again she had tried to clear her mind of the street battle, tried not to remember the dull echo of weapons on armour or the shrill calls of the dying. Every noise from the docks sounded threatening to her. Every raucous voice belonged to a Solmindre soldier. She snuck a look over the side of the ship, holding her breath until she was sure they were safe.
The corner of the stern and the coil of rope were a poor substitute for her cabin, but she had no wish to be close to Mistress Kamalov. Kjellrunn didn’t know what was worse, the way the old woman cursed under her breath or the moments she gave in to silent weeping for the dead children. Kjellrunn nested down on the rope once more and blinked away the memories of the carnage. Six children beaten and bloody on the streets of Virag. Beaten until they stopped moving and breathing. Beaten for bearing the ‘taint’ of witchsign and the misfortune to run across an Envoy with the sight.
‘Frøya save us,’ whispered Kjellrunn as a chill wind whipped across the deck, bringing spots of rain with it. The crew of the Watcher’s Wait went about their tasks under a pall of surly silence, keen to sail away under the cover of night. The glee of ransacking Vladibogdan had subsided and the men and women shared sidelong glances, muttering bitterness when they spoke at all. They wore their weapons openly and all humour had been cast aside. Romola directed the resupply of the ship’s stores and not one of them shirked under her stern gaze. Mistress Kamalov appeared on deck and scowled at the grey sky and the promise of rain as if it were a personal affront. She spoke with Sundra and Tief for a moment.
‘They can’t wait to be rid of us,’ said Tief, indicating the pirates. ‘We’re bad luck. We’re worse than bad luck.’
Kjellrunn couldn’t hear Mistress Kamalov’s response, but moments later the old Vigilant was hobbling across the quarterdeck and up the steps. She approached the stern of the ship as if she hadn’t seen her pupil then leaned against the rail a dozen feet from where Kjellrunn sat.
‘It is quite a thing to hide in plain sight,’ said Mistress Kamalov, staring out to sea. Kjellrunn shrugged, too tired to argue, but there could be no question that hiding was what she was doing.
‘Sometimes it’s good to hide,’ continued Mistress Kamalov. ‘Sometimes hiding is necessary but sometimes hiding costs people their lives.’
Kjellrunn flinched at the last word and felt the heat of anger in her cheeks.
‘This isn’t about me sitting in the corner of the ship, is it?’
‘I always said you were a smart girl.’ Mistress Kamalov looked out to the city of Virag and curled her lip. ‘This entire city smells like rotting fish heads and wet dung, but I doubt the cities of Shanisrond will be any better.’
Kjellrunn released a breath of relief, glad for the change of subject, glad that the old woman hadn’t taken her to task for failing to protect the children. She was more than capable of doing that for herself.