– maybe warning Eneko was the best thing to do. It might get the guild back on their side if nothing else, and that might be the best way to avoid being executed. Even Bakar wouldn’t go openly against the guild. But they had to get to Eneko without being arrested, obviously. Warning Eneko and Bakar about this was the good thing. That didn’t make it the easy thing.
There was a clink behind them, the sound of something being wound and the scrape of steel on leather.
“I’d suggest giving yourselves up,” Egimont said in the cultured drawl that always made Vocho want to hit him.
How in hells had he…? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Egimont stood in the dark doorway that led inside the tavern, that a rattle at the little gate at the rear of the courtyard suggested he wasn’t alone and that someone was definitely winding something up. A gun on closer inspection, one of the new revolving jobs that held ten shots. Something a sword wasn’t much use against in most circumstances. Vocho really needed to get the hang of guns.
Egimont stepped forward, and he at least wasn’t using a gun, though one was at his waist. A duellist at heart, always too fond of sticking to the rules. Something which might give Vocho an advantage. He flipped a quick glance at the papers and then to Kacha. A flicker of her eyelid – agreement.
“Hands off weapons would be a nice start. I see you’ve even got the papers with you. Good. Saves time,” Egimont said. “I’d quite like my sword back too, Kacha, if it’s all the same.” There was something about his voice that wasn’t quite right, some hitch to it when he spoke her name, an odd, almost quizzical look to his eyes.
Dom grinned knowingly at the use of Kacha’s real name, and Vocho had a split second to think. All the time he knew who we were. He knew but said nothing, didn’t turn us in. Who is he?
Two men came to flank Egimont as another three came through the back gate, guns wound and ready. Kacha spared them a sneer and slid the scabbard from her waist. “You can stick it up with your ring,” she said.
Vocho tensed, ready for it even though he didn’t know what it would be. Trouble with Kacha was it was impossible to tell.
She hefted the scabbard, and she and Egimont stared at each other for a long moment that seemed stretched to breaking before he inclined his head in an if-you-please manner and held out his spare hand for it. Vocho wasn’t surprised to see a scrap of blood-marked paper tucked into his glove.
Kacha bounced the blade in one hand, threw it at Egimont – he knew her well enough to flinch back – and grabbed for the hilt as it went, neatly pulling it from the scabbard, which despite Egimont’s efforts bounced off his shoulder.
Vocho had moved as soon as Kacha threw. He leaped up, grabbed for the overhanging trellis and, using his momentum, swung at Egimont. Eggy, already off balance, caught a solid boot on one shoulder, which twisted him round and sent him crashing into one of his men.
Dom seemed to have moved fast too. Vocho could already hear his apologies as he used his sword on the men by the gate, but at least he hadn’t stabbed himself. A shot pinged off the wall by Vocho’s ear. Egimont’s second flank man brought his gun to bear on Vocho, but he was too slow – a smack in the mouth made him stagger back into another group of Egimont’s men. Who didn’t look too happy about it.
Vocho took two great steps back out of the door and around to the side, out of their line of sight. Kacha had swept up the papers and shoved them inside her shirt, and Cospel was giving her a leg up over the wall – always the plan if they needed to get something away. Even when Vocho had grown bigger than her, she could still outrun him. He didn’t plan to be long following her either.
Dom was swatting men with his sword, then ran one through the shoulder – accidentally by the looks of it – with a cry of “Sorry!” and turned towards Vocho, before his eyebrows pretty much went through his hairline and he dived to one side. A bullet cracked from the doorway by Vocho and smacked into the back wall