Since Never by Christopher Percy

Author:Christopher Percy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, grimdark, splatterpunk, enemies, blood, The Black Company, action and adventure, action, mystery, adventure, anti-hero, monsters, thief, devil, friendship
Publisher: Christopher Percy
Published: 2019-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

Escape

Porland’s eyes were but pinpricks of light as he stepped back into the dark alley. Watchmen hurried past, oblivious to him, their hastily bound armour clanging and rattling and jingling like a giants jewellery on a scrawny child and he watched their passing with unblinking interest.

His breathing was quick and loud. A give away any other night but tonight the city watch had problems. Big problems.

Slowly he made his way to the neck of the alley and turned his head first to the left and then to the right. Happy he could move undetected he took a step out from the alley and hurried across the street.

Porland had made it all the way from Apple Street to Walled District. He was tired with the panic and the exertion of the flight but he’d made it, Lawskin too.

They took back ways, secret ways, to Kane’s bakery, checking over the shoulder at every opportunity, fearing the Turned that had moments earlier come smashing through the walls of the Old Quarter. It’d killed a lot of watchmen. It was terrible and Porland couldn’t help but think about it.

They moved quickly to the rear of the bakery but, before rapping a code on the door, Porland cocked an ear to the night. “Do you hear it?” he hissed and Lawskin looked frightened and confused and didn’t know what to say.

It was quiet in this new part of the city as residents were unaware of the terrible thing that had broken into Old Quarter.

Porland strained harder to make any sound out. “I can hear it,” he finally admitted, for when he stood still and held his breath and focused hard on nothing, faint sounds, cries, carried on the still city air and he shivered with fear. “It’s like the wail a child would make. It turns my guts.”

“I feel sick,” said Lawskin rubbing his own.

Porland tapped twice then once then twice more and the reinforced bakery door swung open immediately. “Make way,” he blustered, pushing the hunchbacked doorkeeper aside. “We’ve got to see Mister Kane.”

They took some steps down into a network of narrow corridors, torch lit and reeking with the suffocating stench of pitch and flame. “We’ve got to see Mister Kane,” Porland repeated and all the time he demanded to see Maver Kane he and Lawskin were being led by those higher up in Kane’s administration; cowled men with quick lithe bodies and jittery, spidery movements. These were thieves that had proven their skill and were valued members of Kane’s brotherhood. Porland and Lawskin had yet to prove their worth.

“What is it, Porland? Have you found where the Blade is?” asked one of them. He was a hooded man with a big nose and he held a lamp up head height that blinded Porland whenever he half-turned to make conversation.

“No, but we have a more immediate problem,” Porland replied, blinking rapidly.

Buck toothed Millet appeared from nowhere. He had a cruel shaped hatchet looped through his belt and another fixed to a baldric around his shoulders.

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