The Grim Company

Survivors





Sasha wanted to scream.

It had been a week since they’d fled Farrowgate and taken refuge aboard The Caress. She had spent almost every waking hour of the last seven days alternating between seasickness and an insatiable, terrifying craving for more of that blessed silvery powder to shove up her nose. She would have killed anyone on board the small caravel for even a single line of the stuff. In fact, she would have killed at least one of them just for being so unaware of how close he was to pushing her over the edge.

Right on cue, Cole swaggered up to her. He had a big grin on his face. ‘We’ve just received a message from the White Lady,’ he said. ‘This is it, Sash. No more waiting. The army is on its way.’

Sasha sighed with relief. First they had needed to await a response from Thelassa after Brianna had sent a message indicating Magebane had been recovered. Then another message had been sent to a contact in Dorminia and they had needed to wait for his response. Finally, they had required confirmation that the army was on the move. At last, it seemed, things were in place – and not before time. She felt as though she was going crazy.

‘Friends and allies,’ said Brianna loudly, drawing the attention of everyone aboard the vessel. ‘The time has come to push ahead with our plans.’

The two Highlanders rose from where they had been lounging against the central mast. Jerek shot Sasha an angry look. She scowled back. The man hated her, she knew, and the feeling was mutual. The dark-skinned Shamaathan joined them from where he had been talking with the equally strange pale-skinned woman at the helm. The two of them made an extreme contrast.

Still, neither unsettled her quite as much as the scabrous, leering face of Cole’s new friend. She had caught the convict looking at her more than once. The hunger in his glittering stare had reminded her of things long buried in the past. The girl in her wanted to run away from him.

She wouldn’t run. Men like Three-Finger and Jerek the Wolf thrived on signs of weakness. It had come as no surprise that the two seemed to get on well. What was more disappointing was that Brodar Kayne also shared in the apparent camaraderie the three had struck up. Despite herself, she was growing fond of the battered old warrior and his kindly blue eyes.

Brianna squinted at the assembled group. The noon sun was hot and growing hotter by the day. Spring had finally given way to summer. ‘We will wait until night falls,’ said the White Lady’s adviser. ‘Then we shall sail west along Deadman’s Channel under the cover of darkness. If necessary, I will blanket the ship in magic to disguise our passing. Davarus Cole will disembark near Dorminia. The rest of us will continue on and join up with our forces at the specified point.’

Brodar Kayne scratched at his jaw. He had finally got around to shaving, and he looked a good deal better for it. ‘Who’s in charge of this army, if you don’t mind me asking?’

Brianna frowned. She was a plain-looking woman, tall and thin and dressed in unremarkable blue robes. Still, Sasha had seen what she could do when she had chased off the Watchmen on the other side of the channel. No one had died in the spectacular magical assault – and she suspected that had been Brianna’s intent. It had been a display of restraint that was a complete contrast to the brutal Tyrant of Dorminia. As the days passed, Sasha had found herself starting to admire the woman.

‘Each of the three mercenary companies is led by its own general,’ replied Brianna, in response to the old barbarian’s question. ‘However, General Zahn has overall command of the army. He is a peerless warrior and a fine tactician.’

The dark-skinned assassin spoke. ‘General Zahn can be volatile,’ he warned in his soft, sibilant voice. Apparently he had somehow escaped the noose back in his homeland. The near-death experience had clearly left an indelible mark on the man.

Some scars never heal, she thought. We can cover them up and tell ourselves we’re fine, but the wounds are there for the world to see. She needed some more moon dust. She needed it so badly she could feel her palms sweating.

‘Sumnian mercenary generals achieve their positions entirely through prowess in battle,’ the assassin was saying now. ‘Any man who is part of a company is free to challenge for the leadership position. All he has to do is defeat the current general in a fight to the death. General Zahn has not been challenged in a very long time…’ He let the last sentence trail off ominously.

‘He likes to fight with no armour,’ Cole added. ‘And he’s huge. Bigger than anyone I’ve ever seen.’

Three-Finger scowled. ‘He threatened to f*ck me up the arse.’

The assassin rubbed at his neck. ‘The general is a man of strange humour. But he is a formidable leader. Do as he says and do not question him.’

‘It is my hope that Salazar’s death forestalls the fighting before either side takes many losses,’ said Brianna. ‘I am Dorminian myself. I do not wish to see my people killed in a war to remove a tyrant they hold no love for.’

‘Fear not, Lady Brianna,’ Cole said, unnecessarily loudly given everyone else was only a few feet away. ‘I made a vow long ago.’ He paused for a couple of seconds to look them each in eye. ‘And when Davarus Cole says he will do something, you can consider it done. Salazar will die.’ With a flourish, he unsheathed Magebane from his belt and brandished it in the air. It caught the sun and glinted prettily, much to his evident satisfaction.

Sasha groaned inwardly. Jerek wasn’t quite so circumspect. ‘I’m sick of seeing that f*cking thing,’ he growled. ‘Put it away. Better yet, use it to shave your chin. You look like a cunt.’

Much as she disliked the bastard, Sasha had to agree with Jerek. ‘You’re going to be surrounded by a great many men at the militia camp,’ she said. ‘Some of them might recognize you. You should get rid of the beard. Cut your hair, too. I’ll help.’

Cole looked as if he was about to protest until Brianna spoke up. ‘Yes, a new appearance. A more rugged look. As befits a man of action,’ she added with a small smile.

That seemed to do the trick. Cole looked thoughtful and then nodded.

‘You must avoid suspicion until you are inside the city,’ Brianna continued. ‘Our contact will take care of the rest.’

Sasha had wanted to send word to Garrett and the other Shards, but Brianna was insistent that their messenger spend as little time in Dorminia as possible. The White Lady had shown her hand when her agents tried to assassinate Salazar the last time, and the tyrant would be on the alert for more of the strange pale women. If the messenger was somehow apprehended, their plot to kill the Magelord would fall apart.

Something occurred to her. ‘Where’s Isaac?’ she asked. The manservant had been remarkably quiet ever since The Caress had liberated them from the chasing soldiers. For some reason Cole had taken an instant dislike to him.

‘Over here,’ came the manservant’s muffled voice. He was hunkered down next to a pile of crates, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. ‘I was just composing a little something. An ode to heroes, you might say.’

Sasha frowned. ‘Is that a lute?’

Isaac glanced at the small wooden instrument beside him. ‘Why, yes it is. I can hardly believe it survived our adventures.’

Brianna looked impressed. ‘The lute is one of my mistress’s favourites. Do you play it well?’

‘Passably well,’ the manservant replied modestly. ‘I still have much to learn.’

Brodar Kayne shook his head and gave them all a rueful grin. ‘Knowing young Isaac, I reckon that means he’s skilled enough to make stone weep. Is there anything you can’t do, lad?’

The manservant shrugged, a slightly wistful expression on his face. ‘I strive to learn a little about everything. Still, there are a great many things of which I am ignorant.’

‘Such is life,’ the old barbarian replied sagely. ‘You’re a handy man to travel alongside, Isaac. Saved our skins more than once, I reckon.’

Jerek nodded. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘You did all right.’ From a sociopath like him, Sasha thought, that was about the highest praise anyone could expect.

Cole seemed to be growing increasingly agitated. ‘Yes, well, we had our own adventures, didn’t we, Three-Finger?’

The ugly convict shrugged. ‘Sure. If you count being imprisoned in one shithole after another and almost drowning as adventures.’

‘What about the great escape? Don’t you remember how I rescued Soeman?’

‘Yeah, but he died anyway. That flying Augmentor put a bolt in his scrawny head.’

‘And I made him pay for it,’ Cole responded grimly.

‘It was me that did for him.’

Cole’s face darkened. ‘And how many Watchmen did you kill? Let’s see.’ He raised a hand and began counting on his fingers. ‘One. Two. Is that it? Funny, I can’t seem to recall any more. There must have been at least a dozen in the boat I blasted from the water—’

‘I’m sure your heroics are worthy of many a tale,’ Brianna cut in politely. ‘But your greatest deed of all lies before you. We sail at sunset.’

‘Maybe we can spend a few hours ashore,’ Isaac suggested. ‘This region was once home to the Fade. I believe some ruins still exist nearby. I would like to study them.’

‘I could do with a break from the ship,’ Sasha added hopefully. They had docked only once in the last week. Brianna had wanted them ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

The wizard frowned. ‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Captain, we’ll anchor for the afternoon.’ The pale lady at the wheel raised a hand in acknowledgment and then began to guide the craft towards the shore.

Brodar Kayne flexed his legs. ‘I could do with a stretch,’ he said. ‘Put some life back into these limbs.’ He turned to Isaac. ‘I’ve a mind to hear that song you’re working on, once it’s finished.’

The manservant smiled and nodded. Cole scowled nearby. Sasha shared his annoyance, though for entirely different reasons. She wiped her sweaty palms on her trousers and rubbed at her nose. The blackness was there, clawing at the edge of her consciousness, but she wouldn’t let it in.

She caught Three-Finger eyeing her and scowled back at him. He licked his lips and turned away, and she couldn’t quite stop the shudder that passed through her.



The land was unsettled and surprisingly barren this far north of Thelassa. While still technically within the domain of the City of Towers, the poor quality of the soil and the proximity of the ancient Fade ruins nearby stopped anyone from settling the area.

The sun was a red circle in the sky, bathing them in a fiery glow that was unseasonably hot even for early summer. Sasha finished cutting off the last of Cole’s hair and watched the dark brown locks tumble to the grass. He was sitting on a barrel, staring anxiously ahead as if expecting her to slit his scalp open at any moment. She had been sorely tempted, but self-control had won out. Just.

‘Done,’ she said, blowing the last few strands of hair from the blade in her hand. Cole jumped up from the barrel and turned to her, an anxious expression on his face. ‘You look better,’ she said, and surprisingly she meant it.

Cole ran a hand over his shorn scalp. He drew Magebane from his belt and held it up before him, admiring his reflection in the flawless steel. ‘Good job, Sash,’ he said with a grin. ‘I wonder if Garrett and the others will recognize me.’

She crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare. ‘You’ll be lucky if he welcomes you back at all,’ she said. ‘You hurt him, Cole. He loves you like a son. He only did what he thinks is best for you.’

Cole’s grin faded. He stared down at the ground. ‘I know. I’ve been meaning to apologize. Maybe… maybe I was wrong.’

Sasha’s mouth almost dropped open. She had known Cole since they were both children. She could count the number of times he had uttered those words on one hand and still have fingers to spare.

‘Maybe you have learned something after all,’ she said.

Cole nodded. ‘I’ve been through a lot,’ he replied. ‘But I’ve come through it all a better man…’ His voice trailed off and he frowned as Isaac suddenly ambled back into camp.

The manservant had been investigating the ruins a half-mile to the east, making sketches and writing notes. Sasha had gone with him, and had spent a few minutes staring at the ancient relics before heading back to the others. It wasn’t that the remnants of the Fade civilization were boring – on the contrary, what remained of the twisting, alien architecture was wondrous to behold – but there had been an oppressive feel about the place. It seemed to prod and pull at the darkness inside her so that she couldn’t bear to remain there for long.

‘Many of the structures still stand,’ said Isaac happily. ‘It puts modern engineering to shame. The Fade were so advanced they made even Shadowport’s best craftsmen and architects look like children playing with model bricks.’

Brianna glanced across from where she was conversing with the captain of The Caress. ‘You possess an unusually keen interest in ancient history,’ she remarked. ‘It is my understanding the Fade departed this land at the dawn of the Golden Age.’

Isaac nodded. ‘Two thousand years, give or take, and yet their influence is still felt. That tells us much, doesn’t it?’

Sasha knew little about the Fade other than what was common knowledge. They were said to dwell thousands of miles to the west, across the Endless Ocean. Even before the Godswar the voyage had been a monumental undertaking. When the Lord of the Deep perished and the Azure Sea became the Broken Sea, the task grew harder still. Ships from each of the Trine city-states had attempted to cross the Endless Ocean to the Fadelands in decades gone by, and most had never returned. Those that did had admitted defeat – for even if a ship successfully navigated the vast expanse of water, some strange magic made it impossible to dock.

‘The legends state that the Fade are immortal,’ Brianna said. ‘They do not age and die as we do. I suppose they are like Magelords in that regard.’

Isaac shook his head. ‘Even Magelords were born human. The Fade are different. What use would they have for the gods, or gold, or man’s obsession with, er, procreation? Time means nothing to them. No wonder they departed across the sea when humanity rose to power.’

‘Departed, or fled?’ asked Brianna, an eyebrow raised.

Isaac smiled his bland smile. But there was something else there, Sasha thought, something she had never seen before. It seemed almost… mocking. ‘The Fade would not flee from humans. No more than we would flee a rat infestation. We are shackled by the constraints of our own mortality. Take those constraints away and what might a person become? Anything and everything, given enough time. Can you imagine a race of such beings?’

‘Magic is a potent thing,’ Brianna replied. ‘Even the Fade must respect its power.’

Isaac went quiet for a time. When he spoke again that odd edge in his voice was gone. ‘I guess that’s true. Still, there isn’t much magic around any more – and legends say the Fade possess formidable powers of their own.’

There was movement over where the two Highlanders, Three-Finger and the Shamaathan sat. As far as Sasha could tell the four men had been trying to out-grimace one another. She expected Jerek was winning, but this new dark-skinned southern challenger would give him a run for his money.

‘I reckon it’s time for a song,’ said Brodar Kayne. ‘It’s been a long while since I heard something to stir my old bones.’

‘I can’t promise to do that,’ Isaac replied. ‘But I would be honoured to play. Where’s my lute?’

Cole seemed to shuffle a few steps to the side. He had a guilty look on his face. Sasha felt a sneaking suspicion take hold. ‘Cole, you brought the lute over from the boat. Where did you put it?’

‘Over there,’ Cole replied, pointing at the bundle of clothes, food and other items they had taken with them to shore.

Isaac walked across to the pile of provisions. ‘It was a struggle to think of a fitting name,’ he said. ‘In the end, I decided upon “An Ode to the Survivors”.’

‘The survivors?’ said Brodar Kayne, one eyebrow raised.

Isaac bent down to retrieve his lute. ‘Well, it seems to me that every one of you has suffered much to be here. I mean, you’ve all faced terrible things and lived to tell the tale. It’s quite inspiring really— What’s this?’ The manservant’s eyes widened in horror. ‘My lute… Two of the strings are broken! And it’s full of water!’

Cole cleared his throat. ‘It fell into the channel while I was unloading it from the boat.’ Everyone turned to stare at him. He seemed to wilt beneath their scrutiny. ‘What? It was an accident.’

Brodar Kayne shook his head slowly. Jerek turned away and spat. Brianna gave him a disapproving frown. The dark-skinned southerner raised his eyes towards the sky. Isaac stared at his ruined instrument. A ripple of anger threatened to shatter the permanent mask of insipidness that was his face.

‘You did it on purpose!’ Sasha accused Cole. ‘I can’t believe you. Just when I thought you might be starting to change.’

‘But it was an accident! I promise you, it slipped out of my grasp—’

‘Ah, stow it, kid.’ It was Three-Finger. ‘Accident or not, you’re a f*ck-up. That’s the truth of the matter. We all had a good laugh at you playing the hero aboard the Redemption, did you know that?’ He leaned forwards and his scabrous face twisted into a sneer. ‘Why don’t you tell the girl there how you really feel about her? You’ve got more chance of getting your dick wet with the White Lady. I reckon the girl’s legs are closed up tight. Just like her pretty little ass.’

Brianna’s expression became ugly and Brodar Kayne’s eyes narrowed on the convict. Sasha felt her heart begin to hammer. Three-Finger looked at Jerek, obviously expecting some support from the brooding Highlander. The Wolf’s face was impassive.

Cole stepped towards Three-Finger. There was hurt in his eyes, but his face was beginning to redden with anger. ‘I won’t let you speak about Sash like that.’

‘Or what?’ the convict scoffed. ‘Come on, kid. We all know you’re delusional. I’d stick you like a pig. With or without your little dagger.’

‘Enough.’ It was Brianna. She faced Three-Finger imperiously. Despite her plain appearance, there was a tangible aura of power about the wizard that wiped the sneer from the man’s face. ‘I will tolerate no discord among us. And I will especially not brook any insult to my mistress. Do so again and you will regret it.’

Three-Finger scowled and looked down at the dirt. Cole stared at him for a moment or two. Then he turned and walked over to the edge of the water, his back to them.

Sasha watched him go. Kayne and the Shamaathan had looked as if they would rise and restrain Cole and Three-Finger if necessary. Now they were settling back down, grim expressions on their faces.

Jerek met her eyes for a second. His gaze was unreadable, but she did not doubt he had enjoyed her humiliation. She gave him an angry glare, then turned and followed after Cole.



‘I thought he was my friend.’

Sasha shook her head and bit her lower lip. The craving had returned, stronger than before, but she tried to ignore it. ‘Men like Three-Finger don’t have friends. He used you.’

Cole stared out across the water. He was handsome now that his stupid beard was gone and his hair had been shaved down to stubble; more rugged-looking. His recently healed nose was slightly crooked, but that only added to the effect. ‘It was an accident, you know,’ he said.

‘I don’t think it matters much now,’ she replied. ‘Though you owe Isaac an apology. And a new lute.’

The young Shard sighed and then nodded.

‘What’s your problem with Isaac, anyway? You disliked him from the moment you set eyes on him.’

Cole frowned. ‘I don’t trust him.’

‘Jealousy doesn’t suit you.’

‘I’m not jealous!’ he replied, a little too quickly. They stood there in silence for a time, watching the water lapping against the rocks. The sun was already on the way down. Within an hour they would be sailing west, skirting Dorminia and joining up with the army further along the coast. All except Cole, who would disembark and head for the militia camp, pretending to be a straggler from one of the smaller towns. Once the fighting started he would seek out his contact and be smuggled into the Obelisk.

‘Are you ready to do this?’ she asked quietly. ‘Are you prepared to kill Salazar?’

Cole squared his shoulders. ‘I was born—’

‘None of your bullshit, Cole. This is serious. If you fail, Salazar could destroy us all. The whole army.’

‘I’ve had training,’ he said. ‘The Darkson taught me everything he knew. Besides, Salazar’s magic can’t touch me. Not while I wield Magebane.’

She glanced across at him. He had a determined look on his face. She hesitated, and then placed a hand on his arm. ‘Thanks for watching out for me back there.’

He looked at her hand. His grey eyes rose to meet her own. ‘I won’t let anyone harm you, Sash.’

She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t really have much choice in the matter. I’m about to go to war.’

Cole looked troubled. ‘I know. Just… try and keep yourself safe. I’m not sure what I would do if anything happened to you.’

She wanted to roll her eyes at him – but, for some reason, she couldn’t. ‘I’ll try not to die,’ she said instead.

‘I missed you,’ Cole added, and this time his words really threw her. ‘I thought I would never see you again.’

She stared at her feet, embarrassment warring with the sudden urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. ‘You were only gone a month. Although it feels like a lot longer—What are you doing?’

Cole was leaning towards her, his lips brushing against her own. In sudden panic she threw her head back, bringing a hand around to slap him full in the face. The sound seemed to reverberate like a rockfall. He raised a palm to his cheek and stared at her with eyes full of hurt.

‘I thought—’ he began, but she cut him off with a snarl.

‘You thought you would lure me over here, get me feeling sorry for you? Is that it? Did you plan all of this?’

‘What? No, Sash, of course not—’

‘You’ll never change, will you?’ She stared at him, fury seething within her. The darkness suddenly seemed to expand, filling her head, throbbing with the need to escape and consume everything in its path. ‘You’re an a*shole, Cole,’ she spat. ‘Your father would be ashamed of you. And so would Garrett.’

She spun around and stormed off back to the others, leaving him standing alone, mouth agape.

As it turned out, they were the last words she would utter to him before he departed their grim company for the militia training camp near Dorminia.