CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Prisoner
NEITHER gate nor sentinel guarded the rock formation around Maiden’s Keep. Columns of stone flanked a crystalline waterfall where the portcullis should be. Closer inspection revealed a gentle curtain of water incapable of repelling invaders. At times, Kin could see through it.
“Rickson, stay with the horses.”
Rickson nodded and gripped his staff, which made Kin nervous. He expected an argument. The boy must sense something. Maiden’s Keep was a quiet place. No one ever came to greet him when he visited. A month ago, he followed the trail around the cliff to the dry gate and entered to find several women going about their daily activities—reading, mending clothing, cooking, or meditating. Despite the quietude, an aura of happiness and energy normally pervaded the atmosphere.
“I’ll go first,” Bear said. He gripped his axe and stepped through the waterfall.
Rickson laughed.
Kin shook his head. “I guess we’re getting wet.”
“Bear has never been here, apparently.”
“And you have?”
“All the time. They like to mother me and I like to eat.”
Kin nodded and followed Bear through the waterfall.
“It’s dark,” Bear said.
The cavern was large. Although Kin wasn’t surprised to find it empty, his unease grew.
“Hello!” Bear called.
No one answered. Kin slid his sword free, moving around the room, checking the corners and poking at the ashes in the hearth.
“I don’t like this, Kin. Did Captain Raien’s troopers come here or is the Reaper feasting in the tunnels?”
Kin examined the ground, finding large boot prints with a familiar tread pattern. Fleet armor was heavy. He wasn’t surprised to find evidence of troopers. He didn’t see blood, which was a good sign, although they had probably not come to Maiden’s Keep to kill.
With Bear’s help, he explored the tunnels for an hour before coming to a fortified door he built years ago. The safe room was never closed. Apparently, the women of Maiden’s Keep decided to shelter from the attentions of their recent visitors. He saw more boot prints, but no marks on the door. He rubbed the back of his neck, moved away from the door, and tried to think.
“Move away from the door. There’s a peephole. They could be watching us,” Kin said.
“Good. Maybe they’ll let us in.”
Kin shook his head. “The door must have been open when Raien’s troopers came, because they would have forced it otherwise. I see boot prints leading to the door. They wouldn’t come this far and just turned around.”
“Are they still in there?” Bear asked. “Maybe the women learned their lesson and started locking the door after the men left.”
“That is one possibility.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like the other possibility. God damn these troopers. I thought the Fleet was supposed to protect people, not rape and kill.” Bear gripped his axe tightly, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes for a moment.
“We don’t know what they did. Things could have been a lot worse at Gold Village. Remember, a pair of AWOL troopers returned to Gold Village in search of young women. They could have come here as well.”
“But they high-tailed it back to Crater Town after the Reaper came,” Bear said.
Kin nodded. “I’m going to open the door. Stay alert, and don’t tell Rickson what we find.”
“He isn’t stupid.”
“Then we’ll lie to him. These women were like mothers and sisters to him. Whatever we find, he doesn’t need to know the details.” Kin approached the door from the side, avoiding the peephole, and worked the secret latch.
The lock clicked. He pushed. The heavy timbers of the door swung inward. Firelight flooded into the passage, but no sound. Eventually, he heard something, possibly a woman’s sobbing, but it sounded muffled.
Kin looked Bear in the eyes and held up three fingers. Then he closed his fist before lifting one, two, and three fingers.
They rushed through the doorway. A rifle boomed, blasting bits of rock from the wall where they would have been had they stopped inside the door.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” Bear yelled as he rushed forward with his axe held high.
Kin charged the trooper, scanning the room as he moved, spotting a second man in half armor. His attacker hastily put on his helmet and breastplate, but didn’t have time to fully equip the FSPAA unit. Kin sliced off the man’s hand and shoved him backward as the weapon fell.
Bear ran at the other one but wasn’t going to make it. His opponent aimed a rifle. Kin pivoted on the balls of his feet, drew his pistol, and fired three times. Two bullets hit the man in the chest and the third hit him between the eyes.
Kin returned his attention to the man he had slashed, kicking him in the gut. As soon as his foot came back, he kicked again. His foot slammed into the helmet and flung the man against the wall. Kin’s victim stumbled and fell, holding the stump of his wrist as it gushed blood.
“Grab hold of this one. Tie up his wound if you can,” Kin said, holding his pistol in one hand and his sword in the other.
Bear grunted and forced the one-handed trooper onto his stomach. He pulled both arms behind the man’s back and began tying a tourniquet above the amputated wrist. When the bleeding stopped, Bear tied the arms together.
“Good work, Bear,” Kin said without looking at the man. He focused his attention on twenty women of various ages sitting at a long table, gagged and bound with rope.
“Untie them,” Bear said.
Kin shook his head. He approached a corridor on the far side of the room, unable to see into it from where he was. Instinct warned him another trooper lurked just out of sight, waiting for Kin or Bear to move into view. No trooper he knew would hide without a reason. A Fleet soldier would be waiting for a kill shot.
“Damn it, Kin,” Bear said. He stood and moved quickly toward the table. A bullet grazed his head. He flung up his hand to hold the wound and turned to face the new threat but didn’t move out of the kill zone.
“Get down!” Kin ran forward, kicked Bear’s legs from under him, and faced the danger. A young man, his body dark with Fleet tattoos, stood, aiming a rifle.
Kin dropped and rolled, coming to his feet close to his attacker, firing his pistol one-handed as he moved, sword ready in the other hand.
The trooper fired. A stream of hot bullets flashed past Kin’s head.
Should have aimed for my chest.
Time hadn’t slowed, but in battle, he saw things that shouldn’t be possible. His senses grasped information greedily. He saw the muzzle flash and the air behind the bullets, even as they passed him. His pistol pumped rounds into the young man not much older than Rickson.
Bear grunted and yelled. Kin backed out of the doorway, then turned to see the one-handed trooper on his feet, arms still tied behind him. He had just kicked Bear in the back and was stomping on him.
Kin raised his pistol but dashed forward, holstering as he moved. He held the sword in both hands now, but chose to jump high and kick hard, just as the trooper turned to face him. Kin’s foot drove into the man’s chest and flattened him.
He stood over his only living victim. “You wouldn’t be that stupid if you understood who I was.” The words escaped before he could think and he regretted them immediately. The violent work of close combat overworked his adrenal glands, subverting his judgment.
“Piss off! I was on Hellsbreach!”
Kin laughed. Everyone claimed to be on Hellsbreach. From Captain Zelig to this grunt, they all craved glory from a campaign that was anything but glorious.
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