The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [178]
“Are you—what the fuck are you doing?!” His concern that she had been shot or stabbed by the routed gunners turned into incredulity at her foolishness—she was reloading her pistols from pouches at her belt, as if such a thing were at all acceptable in the midst of battle. “Get up, you fucking cow!”
“You want me doin what I do best.” Mo winked at him, then raised a pistol in each hand and aimed past him. “Fire. Fire.”
Her pistols blazed and two of the charging pikemen fell, tangling up the legs of their fellows. Manuel had no more time to reprimand her, the others almost upon him. The heads of the pikes were bobbing at him, and he pictured himself as Sebastian, pincushioned with shafts. Then he cleared his throat and hoisted his sword—this time his last words would amount to more than a string of fucks and a squeal.
“I challenge you to single combat!” Manuel shouted at the knight, hoping he was an Imperial, or at least bilingual—the soldier didn’t have time to repeat his challenge in Spanish. “Let God hear that I challenge you, in the name of honor!”
They were almost upon Manuel, the knight’s conical visor reflecting the dawn sun as the pikes jutted out from behind him like the fan of a charging peacock.
“Let God hear that I am ready to die, and fear not death!” Manuel’s voice broke. “God forgive those who martyr me!”
“Halt,” the knight said, to Manuel’s tremendous surprise and relief. He came to a stop, as did the pikemen. Manuel heard Mo reloading behind him but over the shoulders of the looming landsknechte he saw the arquebusiers were all engaged in the same act. “Thinking highly of yourself, cow-toucher? Martyr you? Honor you? I’m going to cut you in half, you piece of shit.”
The knight came forward, a noble out to earn his name or some such asshole, and Manuel smiled a wry, ugly smile. “Hiding behind that shell, hiding behind those gunners, hiding behind this wall?! You fucking bastard! I’d rather be a cowherd than a coward!”
The knight was only a few paces away and then, like dogs who have growled enough, they went at each other. The knight seemed almost to fall forward on top of Manuel, the sword he held in both hands coming around fast, and Manuel deftly hopped forward and jabbed his own sword into the slit of the man’s visor. He put both shoulders into the stab and the point of his hand-and-a-half ground through the knight’s left eye socket and killed him instantly. There was an awkward pause as the knight toppled over, and then the ten standing landsknechte all brought their pikes to bear on Manuel.
“Fuck,” said the artist.
“Fire. Fire.” The reports deafened Manuel, and so he did not hear Monique repeat the word twice more. The pikemen fell back, nearly half their number gunned down in an instant, but now it was the arquebusiers’ turn to push forward, their rows restored, their weapons reloaded, their vengeance at hand.
“Saint fuckin Crybaby an’ his ol’ pal Saint Cuntlick,” said Monique. “Did our fuckin all, eh?”
“What!?” said Manuel, swaying from his ruined equilibrium. “What?!”
“Never mind,” Monique said sadly, putting her arm around Manuel as the arquebusiers raised their weapons. “Never mind.”
XXXVII
Death and the Maiden
Awa focused on the circle before her, and then the ring of blood started to bubble and the edges of the page in the center began to brown and blacken. The circle she had drawn around herself was bubbling as well, and soon the page caught and the muddy alcove under the tipped cart filled with acrid, yellow smoke. He was coming.
His shade swirled inside the ring of burning blood, its shape as nebulous as those of the dead spirits congregating over the battlefield, but there could be no doubt that it was him. Awa was trembling, suspecting just how much worse what he threatened was compared to the mundane deaths going on all around her. He could not leave the circle so long as it was unbroken, and she focused on that to calm herself.
“Decided to trade in that last page?” The black specter looped over and under itself, its eye holes sliding around its head to stay