The Blade Itself

“They say she’s not right in the head,” the thin one was whispering at the young one, trying to scare him, “they say she’s killed a hundred men, or more. If you’re a good looking fella, she cuts your fruits off while you’re still alive,” he grabbed hold of his crotch, “and eats them in front of you!”

“Ah, stop your mouth,” said the big one, “she won’t be coming near us.” He pointed over to where the fires were sparser, his voice dropping to a whisper. “She’ll be going to him, if she comes this way at all.”

“Well, I hope she doesn’t,” said the young one, “live and let live, say I.”

The thin man frowned. “And what about all the good men she’s killed? And women and children too? Shouldn’t they have been let live?” Ferro’s teeth ground together. She’d never killed children, that she could think of.

“Well, it’s a shame for them, of course. I’m not saying she shouldn’t be caught.” The young soldier glanced around nervously. “Just maybe not by us.”

The big man let go a laugh at that, but the thin one didn’t look amused. “You a coward?”

“No!” said the young man, angrily, “but I got a wife and a family depending on me, and I could do without being killed out here, that’s all.” He grinned. “We’re expecting another child. Hoping for a son this time.”

The big man nodded. “My son’s nearly grown now. They get old so quick.”

Talk of children, and families, and hopes only made the fury in Ferro’s chest squeeze harder. Why should they be allowed a life, when she had nothing? When them and their kind had taken everything from her? She slid the curved knife out of its sheath.

“What are you doing, Ferro?” hissed Yulwei.

The young man looked round. “Did you hear something?”

The big one laughed. “I think I heard you shit yourself.” The thin one chuckled to himself, the young man smiled, embarrassed. Ferro crept right up behind him. She was just a foot or two away, brightly lit by the fire, but none of the soldiers even glanced at her. She raised the knife.

“Ferro!” shouted Yulwei. The young man sprang to his feet, he peered out across the dark plain, squinting, brow furrowed. He looked Ferro right in the face, but his eyes were focused far behind her. She could smell his breath. The blade of the knife glittered an inch or less from his stubbly throat.

Now. Now was the time. She could kill him quickly, and take the other two as well before the alarm was raised. She knew she could do it. They were unprepared, and she was ready. Now was the time.

But her hand didn’t move.

“What’s got up your arse?” asked the big soldier. “There’s nothing out there.”

“Could’ve sworn I heard something,” said the young man, still looking right in her face.

“Wait!” shouted the thin one, jumping to his feet and pointing. “There she is! Right in front of you!” Ferro froze for an instant, staring at him, then he and the big man started to laugh. The young soldier looked sheepish, turned around and sat down.

“I thought I heard something, that’s all.”

“There’s no one out there,” said the big man. Ferro began to back slowly away. She felt sick, her mouth full of sour spit, her head thumping. She pushed the knife back into its sheath, turned and stumbled off with Yulwei following silently behind.

When the light of the fires and the sound of the talking had faded into the distance she stopped and dropped down on the hard ground. A cold wind blew up across the barren plain. It blew stinging dust in her face, but she hardly noticed. The hate and the fury were gone, for the time being, but they had left a hole, and she had nothing else to fill it with. She felt empty and cold and sick and alone. She hugged herself, rocking slowly back and forth, and closed her eyes. But the darkness held no comfort.

Then she felt the old man’s hand press onto her shoulder.

Now normally she would have twisted away, thrown him off, killed him if she could. But the strength was all gone. She looked up, blinking. “There’s nothing left of me. What am I?” She pressed one hand on her chest, but she barely felt it. “I have nothing inside.”

“Well. It’s strange that you should say that.” Yulwei smiled up at the starry sky. “I was just starting to think there might be something in there worth saving.”

The King’s Justice

As soon as he reached the Square of Marshals, Jezal realised there was something wrong. It was never half this busy for a meeting of the Open Council. He glanced over the knots of finely dressed people as he hurried by, slightly late and out of breath from his long training session: voices were hushed, faces tense and expectant.