The Truth of Things Unseen

Taliette Does As She Pleases

"Let me tell you a new story now," Gintas had said. "Once upon a time, there was a young man named Walder Gintas. He had a horse and a ship, but one by one they were both stolen from him, and so he had to walk. He walked for days and days across a great plain like an ocean, but when he reached the city he was bound for, the White City, he found it dark and full of monsters and the prize that should have been his had already been taken away."

"But luckily, that young man was clever. He had a brain in his head that saw things in a way other people couldn’t see, and so he thought for a very long time until he devised a plan to get back his rightful property."

"That young man spent years and years building an empire, building an army, learning everything he could about anything that could help him. He rediscovered the Ways, he forged certain capable individuals into tools. Instruments of the artist, if you like. He even made a pact with Luck himself."

"That was me, by the way," said Gintas, "in case that wasn’t clear."

"Very clear," Taliette had said with feigned disinterest.

"Most people find betrayal difficult, girl. Something inside of them gets all soft when they come to do it. I get the feeling you don’t have that problem."

She had raised an eyebrow at him. He understood her.

"The mother must not be harmed, do you understand? She was promised to me long ago and I will have her. The eldest son is key to the throne of Erin. We have already discussed what you must do there."

"Keep the daughter alive. I’ve always found young girls make good hostages if necessary. Everyone gets all mushy about them. You don’t need to cage her. She loves you, so she will come to you when I need her, but if you do your job right, I won’t need her."

"The younger son is an unnecessary complication. I will leave him in your care. The Father and all the servants are also surplus."

"Got it." Taliette had dashed off a mock salute.

"I hope you realise this will be an enormously expensive operation, perhaps the most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted. It’s not a joke."

Taliette had forced her face back into its customary cold expression, though inside she had been on fire.

"There is a game called Castles," he had said. "It is a game of sacrifice, played by gentlemen. Perhaps you know it? Your opponent's pieces are hidden from you. To see them, you must sacrifice something of your own. The more painful the sacrifice, the bigger the potential reward. I care about my men, do you understand? I do not relish this sacrifice."

She had frowned, trying to look serious. Never let them see.

"Killing is not easy, girl, you’ll learn this. People don’t want to die, they fight against it, they become desperate, they crawl away when you are not looking, they lie still so you think they’re already dead and you turn your back and they're gone."

She had kept her face ice cool and impassive, just as Mother had shown her. She had nothing to prove. She held her bow with light fingers, the deep brown wood soft in her hands. The black bodkin arrows, strapped in a quiver across her back, were all new and flawless.

She put on her best demure smile and wore it like a mask. The barest hint of a pout. "I think I’ll be fine."

Taliette crouched in the bushes, close to her first mousehole. She had her route planned out on a scrap of parchment that rested in her pocket, but she wouldn’t need it. She had learned every mousehole by heart.

There was a quiver of arrows here. She knew because she had hidden it this morning. She kicked aside a little soil, then dragged it out. She stuck six black arrows in the ground by her feet, then slung the rest of the quiver over her shoulder.

"It’s time now," whispered her heart. "Don’t mess this up. Give him a reason to run with you. Give him a reason to trust you with his life."

Hal was on the lawn, surrounded by a dozen men. They had caught Fen and Llandred, and the mother too. Brock lay on the lawn, Hal crouched by his side. One of the Laxxness men had the fat old cook’s arm twisted up behind her back. She had some sort of armour on, like she was trying to be a fighter or something.

Stupid old lady should know her place. She was going to die now.

The old gardener woman lay crumpled in the wildflower beds. The flowers were trampled flat around her. She had a nice big hole in her back, and Taliette was pretty sure she was dead. One down, quite a few left to go.

"Count them again," whispered her heart. "Be precise."

She tallied them. "Fifteen," she whispered.

She fitted an arrow and sighted without breaking cover. Lazily, she allowed her aim to travel up, past Llan, past Fen. Hal was there, too. She aimed into the group of mercenaries. It didn't matter who she hit first. Everyone was going to die. She was the executioner. She was the hand of God. She was judgement.

She remembered Hal's instructions, exhaled, softened her grip, and let the arrow soar.

It pierced one of the Laxxness men through the neck. His stupid eyes bulged, his hands slowly came up to his throat and found wood there.

It was just like killing the trapper. Heat rose up inside her. Glory spun about her head. She stifled a giggle. The man was still standing, a frown of puzzlement on his face. He was dead now. It was only a matter of moments before he realised it.

She stooped and fitted another arrow.

It took a moment for the rest of the group to react. They stood, frozen, drops of blood running down their faces, while the Laxxness man staggered around choking and holding himself.

It was enough time to draw, sight and send another arrow whistling across the lawn. This one stuck Pig right through his great barrel chest. He was an easy round target; perhaps she should have left him for later. He rolled down onto the grass, blood coming up and dribbling down his chin. Even from this distance, she could hear the gasping sounds of his breathing in the sudden silence.

Fifteen men, two down. That leaves thirteen to kill. Good odds, as long as they didn’t catch her.

She could feel her soul pulling at her. She didn’t fight it. Gintas’ desire pulsed through her, and it was her own. She fed on it. It consumed her and it completed her. She was the instrument and he was the artist. She could no longer tell which were her own thoughts and which were his. She was wild. She was going to kill everyone, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

"Archer," yelled Hal. "There, in the bushes."

The men split into three packs, one moving left, one right, the remainder staying with the hostages holding them out in front like shields.

"Come out now,” yelled Hal, “or we start killing people,"

In her hiding place, Taliette plucked another arrow and studied it. Here, in her hand, it was just a stick, some feathers, a little dagger point. In a man’s chest, it was the end of his story. It was the same arrow, all that mattered was where she decided to put it. This was ownership. The arrow meant she owned these men now. They were hers to play with.

"Kill the leader."

The two packs were flanking her, but she had time. She took aim at Hal. "Breathe out," he had said when she had first met him. "loosen your grip." She remembered lying next to him by the fire, fingers interlaced. She hesitated for just a fraction of a second.

With surprising speed, Hal ducked and rolled out of the way. The arrow smacked against the wall of the house and fell, broken, just a stick once more.

He made a chopping sign, and the Laxxness man pressed a long knife into the fat old cook's side, underneath the armpit. She stared around wildly, as though she were looking for someone, Her mouth worked as though she were trying to speak, then her eyes found the patch of wildflowers where Seskie lay. She took a deep breath, then relaxed into the blade. The Laxxness man pushed the dagger all the way home, twisted, wrenched it out, then tossed her body aside. He growled, deep in his throat, and Taliette heard it, even from across the garden.

Fen began screaming and kicking, trying to get to the dead old woman. She had been her nurse or something. Now, she was a corpse. Taliette didn’t care. The servants weren't on the list. They would have had to die today anyway. Hal had saved her a job.

One of Talisker's daggers whistled past her ear.

"Keep range," whispered her heart.

“You said they only had clubs.”

Her heart didn’t reply.

The mousehole was hidden behind bushes, close to the wall. Taliette slipped inside and crawled as quickly as she could, leaving her remaining arrows stuck in the grass. The dead sound inside the mousehole contrasted with the shouts and screams from the garden. She emerged behind the house, gulping real air once again. There was no one in sight, but she could hear the cries of the mercenaries at the front of the house. They must be combing the undergrowth for an archer. Idiots.

"Secure your exit. Keep your mobility."

She ran to the entrance of the next mousehole, also near the base of the wall. Two Laxxness men were combing the undergrowth where she had stood before. Tenisker ran up and joined them. They waved to her, she was one of them.

"Archer," yelled Tenisker. "Keep your eyes sharp."

It was a joke. She had drunk with The Vintland woman only the night before. Now, she was going to kill her. She had six arrows already planted in the lawn here. She sighted and took the two men one by one with two arrows, one after the other. Thock, thock. It was so easy. They didn't even know where to look.

"Pop, pop," she said.

Tenisker wheeled around as the third arrow pierced her through the breast. Her narrow fingers found the shaft. Her nails clawed at it, then she fell to her knees, gurgling, staring at Taliette. She looked confused. It was not a clean shot, through the lung, not through the heart, but it was good enough.

"Tidy up as you go," whispered her heart.

"Wha..?" Blood gurgled out of the Vintland woman's mouth. The two men were already dead.

Taliette drew another arrow and put it through Tenisker's other lung, leaving her choking. Definitely good enough. There was no wild thrill this time. It was just work, like cutting up food on a plate, except it was people. The Vintland woman was still kneeling, watching her with eyes that glittered. The woman’s mouth was working but no sound was coming out.

"What are you looking at?" she asked. “What are you trying to say?”

"Some people find betrayal difficult," whispered her heart. "I don’t think you have that problem. Keep count. How many left?"

"Eight," she whispered. "Easy."

She step, stepped back away from Talisker, around the house, bow half drawn and lowered. The lawn was covered in blood and bodies. Three more Laxxness men stood there, guarding Fen, Llandred and the mother. She shot them in the back without breaking stride. Fen and Llandred broke and ran towards the tower. The mother, Llaneth, Gintas had called her, noticed Taliette and flashed her a smile, as though she were actually helping them.

Idiots. Stupid fucking idiots.

One of the bodies on the lawn was still moving, crawling slowly towards the gate. It grunted and rolled over. It was Pig. Her arrow protruded from his chest, just wide of his heart. He half sat up and looked at her in confusion, blood and froth dripping from his mouth and running down his chin, his stupid brown Mercian eyes framing a question. She almost laughed at him. He still didn’t know what she had done to him. She drew and put an arrow through his mouth without letting him speak.

"What does a butcher feel for his animals? That’s how you feel. You are an artist. You are a God. You are Eternity. These men are wheat and you are the ever-living Flame. You consume them. You complete the Pattern, and the Pattern sings in you and through you."

An arrow flew past her ear and broke against the wall.

Jessamy was on the lawn, thirty feet away, surrounded by the bodies of Gintas men. Her bow was raised, another arrow already nocked. Taliette stepped to one side and the second arrow whistled past her chest. She sent an arrow back, but she rushed the shot, and the black arrow flew wide.

"She's here, behind the house!"

Taliette cursed. Five more men, including Hal, plus Jessamy. Six to kill and only one more mousehole left on the route.