Behind her the door was pulled back by the owner. A few quiet words, then louder threats.
Hellian saw Banaschar's gaze flick past her – he had a good view of what was going on out front – and then he bolted back in his chair, eyes widening – as shrieks erupted from the mob, followed by the sounds of panicked flight.
Scowling, Hellian twisted round in her chair.
The proprietor was gone, and in the man's place stood a demon, its back to them, big enough to fill the entire doorway. A thrashing victim was in its huge hands and, as the sergeant watched, the demon tore off the screaming man's head, leaned through the doorway and threw it after the fleeing citizens. Then it flung the headless corpse in the same direction.
A strange blurring, and a sweet, spicy scent drifted back into the tavern, and then the demon was gone, in its place the old Dal Honese, brushing clean his hands, then the front of his grimy tunic. He turned about and walked back to the table.
Another smile beneath skewed eyes. 'Finest ale, then, a pitcher, coming right up!'
Hellian swung back round in her chair. Her gaze flicked over to the other customer at the back wall. A woman, a whore. The sergeant grunted, then called to her, 'You! Get much business?'
A snort in reply, then, 'Who cares?'
'Well, you got a point there, you do.'
'Both of you be quiet!' Banaschar shouted, his voice sounding halfstrangled. 'That was a Kenryll'ah demon!'
'He's not so bad,' said the whore, 'once you get to know 'im.'
From behind the bar came the sound of crashing crockery, then a curse.
****
In clumps, in bands, in ragged troops, the crowds began reappearing along the Centre Docks harbourfront. More weapons among them now, and here and there bows. Torches flared in the dark, and voices rose, delivering commands.
Leaning against the prow of the Silanda – moored just behind the longboat the Red Blades had used – Koryk watched the proceedings on the front street for a time, then he turned about and made his way back down to the mid deck.
'Sergeant Balm.'
'What?'
'We could be in for some trouble soon.'
'Typical,' Balm hissed, rising to begin pacing. 'Fid vanishes. Gesler vanishes. Leaving just me, and I ain't got no whistle, do I?
Deadsmell, get up'n'over, talk to Fist Keneb. See what they want us to do about it.'
The corporal shrugged, then made his way to the boarding ladder.
Tarr was climbing into his armour. 'Sergeant,' he said, 'we got Fid's crate of munitions below-'
'Hood's balls, you're right! Cuttle, get down there. Sharpers and burners, all you can lay hands on. Throatslitter – what are you doing there?'
'Was thinking of sneaking into that crowd,' the man said from the rail, where he'd thrown one leg over and was about to climb down into the murky water. 'It doesn't sound right, does it? There's ringleaders up there – Claws, maybe, and you know how I like killing those. I could make things more confused, like they should be-'
'You'll get torn to pieces, you idiot. No, you stay here, we're undermanned enough as it is.'
Koryk crouched down near Tarr and Smiles. 'Fid keeps doing this, doesn't he?'
'Relax,' Tarr said. 'If need be, me and Gesler's heavies will hold the jetty.'
'You're looking forward to that!' Smiles accused.
'Why not? Since when did the Wickans deserve all this hate? That mob's hungry for the Fourteenth, fine, why disappoint them?'
''Cause we was ordered to stay aboard here,' Smiles said.
'Easier holding the jetty than letting the bastards jump down onto this deck.'
'They'd jump right back off,' Koryk predicted, 'once they see those heads.'
'I'm itching for a fight, Koryk.'
'Fine, Tarr, you go up and get yourself ready. Me, Smiles and Cuttle will be right behind you, with a few dozen sharpers.'
Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas joined them. The man was strapping on a round-shield. 'I will flank you, Corporal Tarr,' he said. 'I have found a cutlass and I have some skill with that weapon.'
'Appreciate the company,' Tarr said, then looked over to where Shortnose, Flashwit, Uru Hela and Mayfly were donning armour. 'Six in all, front line. Let them try and get past us.'
Cuttle reappeared, dragging a crate.
'Pass 'em out, sapper,' Balm ordered. 'Then we all go up top and give that mob a wave over.'
Koryk loaded his crossbow, then pounded Tarr on the shoulder. 'Let's go take a look. I'm in the mood to kill someone, too.'