Grim Company 02 - Sword Of The North by Luke Scull

middle of the path. Kayne had seen some big bastards in the last few months – none bigger than the monstrous Sumnian general who had led the assault on Dorminia – but he reckoned the stranger that regarded them on the road just then could match any of them for sheer strength. Huge muscles rippled below green skin, ham-sized fists clutching a spiked club big enough to make even Kayne’s greatsword look like some noble fop’s fencing steel. The odd humanoid looked even more savage than the hill-men, what with his jutting jaw and two tusks protruding above his upper lip, but Kayne noted a keen mind at work behind those amber eyes.
    ‘You heading north?’ Kayne said casually. The stranger made a sound halfway between a growl and a moan.
    ‘He asked you a question.’ Jerek took a step forward, axes raised.
    The stranger’s yellow eyes narrowed dangerously but eventually he nodded. Then he glanced at the sack resting on the ground nearby. There was something round and bulky within.
    ‘Mind telling us what’s in the sack?’ Kayne asked.
    The stranger made another moaning sound. He shifted the massive club in his hands, giving it a threatening shake. Scraps of flesh clung to the iron spikes studding the wood. One scrap shook loose, a piece of scalp with oily hair still attached.
    ‘He doesn’t have a tongue,’ Brick piped up suddenly. ‘That’s why he moans. He can’t speak.’
    Kayne looked from Brick to the big green warrior. ‘Those savages attack you too?’
    The stranger nodded again and a made a series of movements with his left hand, ending with a clenched fist.
    Brick turned to Kayne. ‘He says he had no choice but to kill them. The hill-men thought he was a demon.’
    ‘How’d you know that?’
    ‘The Bandit King cuts the tongue from any man who dares speak against him. Raff and Slater taught me the mute language.’
    Kayne turned back to the stranger. ‘You got a horse?’
    The stranger shook his head, gestured towards the hills and drew a thick thumb across his throat.
    ‘So they killed your mount. Now you’re forced to go it on foot.’ Kayne pointed at the sack. ‘Must be heavy work, hauling that thing around.’
    That got a suspicious look, but eventually the stranger nodded.
    Kayne looked from Brick to Jerek. The boy seemed intrigued. Jerek shook his head grimly and shot him a look the older man knew well.
    Kayne hesitated. ‘We could travel together,’ he said eventually, knowing what he was letting himself in for. ‘Until we’re out of the Badlands. Ain’t much further now.’
    Right on cue, Jerek heaved a disgusted sigh. ‘Fucking knew this would happen,’ he rasped. ‘Not even a quarter of the way to the Fangs and already we’re collecting orphan bandits and green bastards like some kind of travelling circus. Might as well go back to Dorminia, find us a one-legged whore, maybe a troupe of midgets. Fuck’s sake.’
    ‘Calm, Wolf,’ Kayne whispered to his friend. ‘We could use the help if any more of those savages try their luck. And I’ve got a mind to know what’s in that sack.’
    ‘I’ll tell you what’s in the sack,’ Jerek grated. ‘A chopped-up corpse or some other shit we’re better off not knowing about. Always is.’
    ‘Could be that you’re right. But let’s give him a chance.’
    Jerek spat. ‘Bastard stinks worse than those hill-men. Make sure he keeps out of my way.’ Having released some anger, the Wolf turned his back on them and stalked over to his horse.
    Kayne walked up to the green-skinned warrior. ‘My name’s Kayne. The lad here is Brick. My comrade over there is Jerek. Don’t mind him, he takes a while to warm to new faces. What’s your name, friend?’
    The stranger replied with a series of groans that sounded like a cross between a cow dying and a bear taking a shit.
    Kayne listened politely. Then he looked questioningly at Brick, who shrugged and shook his head.
    ‘Er, well met then.’ He stuck out a hand towards the stranger, who