“We don’t want any trouble,” the teenaged ollie called to the mounted soldiers, her eyes bright with fear. “Just let us be.”

“You know we can’t do that,” one of the infenti twins told her.

“I know you can,” she said, an edge of pleading her voice. “Just keep riding. Please. If you got here twenty minutes later, you wouldn’t have even seen us. We would’ve disappeared into the forest.”

Dordor the scarred ollie dismounted from his oversized horse. “But we did see you, girl,”

“You!” the teenaged boy said, his lip curling.

Dordor scowled and rolled his massive shoulders.

“Of everyone here, a fellow olifarn should help us. Look at them!” The boy gestured behind himself. “They’re just babies.”

I looked closer. Huh. The shorter ones, the ones I’d initially thought were teenagers, were very young kids. And the smallest were ... toddlers? Except over four feet tall. Which meant that yeah, the ones a few inches taller than me weren’t adults, they were adolescents.

“They can be kids in Ryetown,” the infenti twin said, leaning forward to scratch one of his mount’s horns.

“Their parents are--“ The ollie girl swallowed. “Are elsewhere. We’re bringing them to their parents. They just want to see their families again.”

“Their parents are where, exactly?” Dordor demanded. “We need to collect them too.”

“Like we’re going to tell you that,” the boy said.

“Don’t make me hurt you, pup.”

The boy gripped his staff tighter. “I-I’d like to see you try. Traitor to your race. They’re kids! They’re only kids, they just want to--“

“What did you call me?” Dordor rumbled, drawing his sword.

“All he said was that they want their families!” the girl broke in. “Please. Just leave us be. The forest is right there, all we ask is--”

“All of you servants!” one of the white-skinned twins barked at us. “Gather outside the wagon! You’re walking from here.”

“They’re going to use our wagon to lock up those ollie kids,” the old crachen explained, as we climbed down from the roof. “To bring them to Ryetown.”

“Without their moms,” Erdinand muttered.

I didn’t say anything. I just stayed near the other servants, trying to keep a tight rein on my temper. I didn’t know this world, but I knew that separating kids from their families made me want to draw blood. If there wasn’t some kind of immediate dangers like a, a hurricane or an avalanche or something, then rounding up kids--rounding up adults, for that matter--crossed the line.

Still, I couldn’t do much against all these soldiers, and maybe this would resolve itself somehow. I didn’t see how, but maybe.

“You’re coming with us,” the infenti told the ollies.

The girl put her hand on the boy’s arm, to shut him up, and said, “We can’t. We--we promised we’d bring them to their parents.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh yes they do,” Dordor growled. “They can disobey and I’ll cut them down where they stand.”

Erdinand edged forward for a better view, but I didn’t join him. I moved sideways, instead, toward the fancy wagont. I wasn’t sure why. Putting more space around myself in case everything went to shit, maybe. Or just because I needed to move, to keep myself from doing anything stupid. The numbers hadn’t changed. I couldn’t fight that many soldiers, including two elites. Hell I probably couldn’t beat any three of the regular soldiers even without the elites--and this wasn’t like that scuffle the other night. They were serious this time. Plus, they were mounted, all of them but Dordor.

“What is the delay?” Miss Kathina demanded, from the front of her wagon. “We’ve dallied enough, Lieutenant Jikap, we’re due at Ryetown tomorrow.”

When I glanced at her, I caught a shimmer in the air again. Not a smooth, unmoving dome. The shimmer seemed to stretch and warp like a huge amoeba. Lord Usim stood behind her, with Big Sid a step farther back, in the shadow of the wagon door. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like she was talking to him, or to that other kid, the whipping boy, farther inside.

At a gesture from the white-skinned infenti, two riders started toward the ollie children.

“Get in that wagon or we’ll make you,” one of the riders snarled. “Move your asses. Move, move!”

The ollie children huddled closer together, and a few started crying. The teenaged boy raised his tree-trunk staff and stepped between the riders and the kids. “You’re scaring them.”

“If you were smarter,” Dordor said, “we’d be scaring you.”

“What would your mother say? Bullying children. Is that how you--“

Dordor stomped forward. “Get in the fucking wagon or I will end you.”

“J-just let them go,” the boy said, his voice shaking. “Let them go and I’ll come with you.”

“We both will,” girl said.

“Does this look like a fucking negotiation?” Dordor demanded.

“No,” the boy said. “It looks like a grown olifarn kidnapping children, working like a dog for his masters, licking their boots to--“

Dordor’s sword flashed and the boy dropped his quarterstaff.

Blood sprayed from his neck, from the slash across his throat, and he collapsed into a lifeless heap on the trampled grass. The suddenness of it shocked me. Horrified me. The children screamed and wept, and the girl blinked, trying to keep tears from her eyes as she raised her bracer-wrapped forearms in shaky defense.

Stolen story; please report.

“Stop!” Lord Usim’s squeaky voice cried. “Stop this now!”

“Stay your hand!” one of the infenti twins boomed.

Dordor paused, then looked over his shoulder at the white-skinned infenti on his horse. And, beyond him, to the fancy wagon where Lord Usim now stood in front of Miss Kathina, his eyes wide in horror.

“W-why did you do that?” Lord Usim stammered. “You--you didn’t need to do that.”

“To disobey us,” the infenti twin told him, “is to disobey your mother, and all of Six Coves.”

“But, he ... he killed him.”

“To disobey us, my lord,” the infenti repeated, “is to disobey your mother. And the penalty for that is death.” He turned back to the crowd of kids. “Now get in the wagon, if you would be so kind, before someone else dies.”

“Please, my lord,” the teenaged ollie girl begged Usim. “Let us go. Please. They’re only children. Look at them.”

“Get in the wagon,” the other infenti said.

“I don’t need to kill you to make you wish you were dead,” Dordor snarled.

“Don’t,” Lord Usim said, more weakly. “Don’t ...”

The girl kept her bracers high, even if they were trembling. “I--I can’t--I don’t know--I can’t ...”

“Step away from those children!” a new voice piped up.

A familiar voice.

Erdinand’s voice.

Then he pushed from the crowd of servants and said, “You heard his lordship! Don’t touch them.” One of the soldiers raised her shield to slam him and he blurted, “Or will you ignore Lord Usim’s orders?”

The soldier paused, glancing toward the infenti twins.

“We obey his mother, the commander, not him,” the infenti said. “Get out of our way, servant.”

“I obey Lord Usim,” Erdinand said, and looked desperately toward the fancy wagon. “I obey you, my lord, so tell me--“

At a sign from the infenti, the soldier smashed Erd with a shield. The impact sounded terrible, but his carapace didn’t break. He just fell to the ground, limp and groaning.

“Rabid crachin,” Dordor grunted.

“Him you can kill,” one of the twins told Dordor. “A jumped-up waldo servant trying to tell us what to do.”

That was enough to push Big Sid into motion. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded, stepping in front of Lord Usim. “You heard his lordship! And that stupid shell-head was only trying to obey his orders--which is more than I can say for you.”

“What do you possibly imagine you’re doing, Bellsyd?” Miss Kathina said, her expression cold.

Big Sid marched forward, through the sparking magical shield, toward where Erdinand lay moaning in a heap. “His lordship is in charge!” she told the bone-white infenti. “How dare you disobey him?”

“I, um ...” Lord Usim started. “I don’t--“

“His lordship is my charge,” Miss Kathina said.

“Surely this ... this oversized oaf can’t simply murder his lordship’s servants!” Big Sid told her, gesturing to Dordor.

“Whyever would you think that, Bellsyd?” Miss Kathina asked her. “Pray continue, Sergeant Dordor. End this unpleasant incident with maximum speed.”

“With pleasure,” he said, and raised his sword above Erdinand.

I called a hatchet into my right hand and took a step forward, but nobody noticed because Big Sid stepped forward, too, putting herself between Dordor and Erdinand.

“Don’t you touch him,” she snarled up at Dordor. “You big wet sack of sloppy fucks.”

He smiled down at her--a hungry, violent smile--but she didn’t seem to notice. She probably weighed ninety pounds and he must’ve weighed four hundred. It would’ve looked comic if it weren’t so deadly.

“My lord!” Big Sid called, past Dordor to the wagon. “Please.”

“Yes, please my lord,” the ollie teenager echoed, gazing pleadingly at Lord Usim.

“I, um ...” Usim chewed his lower lip. “Can we not--“

“Apparently we’ve treated our servants far too softly,” Miss Kathina interrupted. “Observe what happens, my lord, when we do not guide them with a firm hand. Of course a soldier of Six Coves can dispose of a Waldhill servant--or any Waldhill resident--at their sold discretion.” She sighed. “I’m quite sorry, Bellsyd, but Sergeant Dordor?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Please dispose of both these servants--and then escort the young people into the wagon.”

“Easily done,” he said.

“Your mother is easily done, you fuckeyed mastodo--“ Big Sid started.

Dordor smacked her with a backhand, flinging her to the side before taking a execution’s stance over Erdinand.

Well, damn. So much for reaching Ryetown without any hassles. Just one day away, but I wasn’t going to keep losing friends.

“Hey, Dodo!” I called, strolling closer. “Is there room for one more?”

Everyone turned toward me. There were a couple of the murmured confused words about ‘the cook,’ but at least Dordor recognized me. He said, “You? Idiot human. What’re you going to do with that axe? Make kindling”

“Out of your tusks,” I said, then turned to appeal toward the fancy wagon. “How about this? If I can beat Sergeant Dordor, you let us all walk?”

“You can’t beat him,” one of the infenti said.

“You can’t scratch me,” Dordor said.

“So there’s no risk!” I said, then appealed to Lord Usim. “How about it, your, uh, lordship?”

“Nonsense,” Miss Kathina said. “Remove this--“

“I can take you,” I told Dordor. “One on one.”

“May I teach this human a fatal lesson?” he asked Miss Kathina.

“So long as you hurry things along! We’ve wasted too much time already.”

I stepped back, weighing my hatchet in my hand. In fact, I stepped so far back that I almost stepped on Erdinand. Which was entirely intentional. He’d stopped groaning but still seemed dazed. So then I did step on him. At least, I gave him a little kick in the head and, while the soldiers jeered me, I murmured, “Get ready to whistle the horses away.”

“Uh,” he said, which I hoped meant he understood. God knew he spent enough time training those horses to respond to his commands.

Then I called to Dordor, “Come at me, big fella.”

“Even pretending to fight a worm like you is insulting. As if we’re equals.”

“That’s not insulting,” I told him. “Saying ‘your mother wanted to name you ‘Donald’ but she mumbled because of all the dicks in her mouth’ is insulting.’

My plan, of course, was to piss him off so much that he’d get sloppy. Hell, he already completely underestimated me. The two things together might give me a nice edge.

Except to my surprise he didn’t bellow and charge me.

Instead, he spread his arms wide. “Strike me, human. With all your strength. One hit, right to my chest, I won’t block, I won’t dodge. Maybe you can break my skin. Maybe you can draw even blood.”

The other soldiers heckled me from horseback: “Try to scratch him, boy! You can’t even reach his neck. Watch out your toy axe doesn’t break!”

Dordor just stood there, his arms spread, and I started to worry. I knew he was playing mind-games, just like I was, but goddamn. He genuinely didn’t seem worried. His self-confidence was so complete that I started to worry I’d gotten in way over my head.

INTUIT: Olifarn, Level Eight.

He was only two levels higher than I was. And I’d beaten enemies with more of a gap than that many times. Still, when he turned his head away and closed his eyes, completely unworried about my attack, I felt a wriggling worm of doubt.

“Come, human!” he bellowed. “Strike. Hard as you can! Put all your feeble strength into it.”

So I whispered to Erdinand, “Get ready to whistle.”

Then I kicked off my shoes and curled my toes into the ground. Okay. Here goes nothing. I took a breath, then sprinted at Dordor, holding one of my oversized hatchets in a two-handed grip. I meant to strike silently, but putting every ounce of power into a single chop made me yell, “Yaaaah!”

My swing was good.

My swing was better than good. I swung from my hips and threw myself forward. I poured all my weight and fear into that one blow.

And I buried the head of my hatchet deep into his chest. I chopped through armor and ribs and buried my blade in his heart.

He opened his eyes and turned to look down at me. Then he looked at his chest.

Then I pulled my hatchet free and blood spurted everywhere, half-coating me, and Dordor fell dead at my feet.

Just ... dead.

* * *

“Well, that was unexpected.” I said, wiping blood from my face with my sleeve then hissing: “Whistle, Erd, now! Whistle them away!”

The soldiers stared in disbelief for a moment before one of them threw a spear at me. It came fast and straight but my webtouch had twanged at the guy’s motion, before he even released the spear. And yeah, the spear came fast, but it wasn’t faster than the leg of a monster spider, and I’d trained on those.

I knocked it from the air with my hatchet and Erdinand whistled.

He whistled like that one kid you knew in elementary school who had some kind of whistling superpower, where you never understood how they achieved that much volume. His whistle cut through the day, and the horses bolted. With the soldiers still in their saddles.