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Fire and Lightning
22. Give Them The Jump

22. Give Them The Jump

They crept their way down the street Sagar had indicated. The skycaptain whispered as they walked: “Now listen: They’re armed, of course, but I only saw swords—and none of them drawn at that. No bows or crossbows. They look completely off guard to me—it doesn’t seem like Sirra has put up much of a resistance to this invasion, or if it did then it’s clearly been crushed. So I don’t think they’ll be expecting us at all. This’ll be like harpooning a skywhale on a clear day. Now, woman, don’t go using those pistols of yours, as they’ll alert others to what we’re doing--”

“Well, obviously, said Elrann, rolling her eyes. “Do you think I was born yesterday, pirateman? I’ll use my whip.”

“Good,” said Sagar, ignoring her jibes for once. “I’ve got my swords. Scumsucker, you’ve got your poison blade and…whatever else you’re carrying. Princess and old timer, you can stay in the back, but you’ve got your lightning and your healing abilities if things go south—they shouldn’t, though.”

“What about me?” said Ryn.

The pirate glanced sidelong at him. “What about you, pup?”

“I can fight too. Cid has been teaching me.”

“You just try to stay out of the way and to not get hurt.”

Ryn’s irritation boiled over. “But I don’t want to stay out of the way.” He heard himself saying it like a petulant child, but he couldn’t help it. “I want to fight.”

“Rrrr,” said Sagar under his breath. “Fine, pup. I suppose we could use one more up front, seeing as there’s five of them. You’ve got your fire, I suppose, but we only want to use that in an emergency. Alright then; use that sword you took from the soldiers back near Nont. You think you can handle being up front after last time?”

“Yes,” Ryn said defiantly, trying not to pay attention to the memory of being impaled that flashed in his mind. If something went really wrong, Cid could always heal him like last time. Although he wasn’t in a hurry to go through the experience of almost dying again.

“But that’s still only four of you up front,” said Nuthea, “when there are five soldiers. You’re still one short. And you are only going to render them unconscious. You’re not going to kill them.”

“What?!” Said Sagar. He practically squeaked it, so loud that Cid said “Shhh!” and they froze in their tracks for a moment.

They waited to hear if anyone had taken notice….

Only the silence of the high-walled alley they were creeping down. Ryn exhaled relief.

“What?” Sagar said again, more quietly this time as they resumed walking. “You can’t be serious, princess…”

“I am,” said Nuthea. “No unnecessary deaths. It is not the Way of the One. We kill only in self-defence, if we really have to.”

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“That’s completely stupid,” said Sagar. “Idon’t need to go along with your Oneist nonsense. There’s no way we’re only going to knock them out. We’ve got a much better chance of stealing their armour if we kill them first.”

“Captain Sagar, may I remind you that you are my escort on this mission?.”

“So what?”

“So, if you don’t carry out my wishes, it may affect the amount and nature of your reward when you successfully deliver me to my people.”

A muscle in Sagar’s jaw twitched. “Rrrrrrrrrrr.” That was a big one,. “Fine. We’ll aim to knock them out. But it’s not a precise art. If I accidentally kill one or two of them in the process, I can’t be held responsible.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Nuthea, with a flutter of her eyelids.

“What’s the best way to knock someone out?” Ryn asked, testing the weight of the Imperial sword in his hand and suddenly having flashbacks to the last time he had fought an Imperial soldier. His mouth had gone dry and he needed to pee.

Sagar looked at him.

“What? I’ve never done it before.”

“You just hit them really hard in the head. With the hilt of your sword or something. If we get this right, we’ll be ambushing them from behind, so you should have plenty of time to aim. Easy pickings.”

“What about their helmets?

“What about their helmets? Hit them hard enough, you should be able to knock them out through their helmets. Or if you really want you can get them off first, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Ryn wasn’t sure Sagar was intending to acquiesce to Nuthea’s request at all. His palms were clammy. He gripped the sword tighter. “Alright. But like Nuthea said, there’s still only four of us going in close, and five of them.”

“Oh, stop worrying, boy,” said Vish all of a sudden. “You are making this very tedious. You probably won’t need to do anything at all.”

They arrived at the end of the street where it met the one they hoped the patrol they had spotted was now walking down.

“Here,” said Sagar. “Get low.”

Ryn and the others crouched with their backs against the nearest building, keeping themselves from view. The stone was cold against his back even through his cloak. There wasn’t much light to see by here. He could hear Nuthea shivering slightly next to him. On his other side, Vish’s silhouette crouched perfectly still, like a cat waiting to pounce.

Sagar crept to the building’s corner and very slowly peeked his head round.

No sooner had he done so than he pulled it straight back again.

“Perfect,” he whispered with a wolfish grin. “They’re coming this way, just like we hoped. Didn’t see me. We wait here until they’ve gone past this turning, then jump them from behind. Got it?”

Ryn nodded his assent with the others. They shuffled along the wall a little deeper into their own street to make sure they were as hidden as possible, keeping to the many available shadows.

The secret scrape of two more swords being slid quietly from their sheaths. Elrann rummaged in her overall and uncoiled her whip.

They waited.

And waited.

Just the dimness of the street.

Ryn suddenly became very interested in one particular cobblestone, and tried not to pay attention to his imaginations of the violence about to take place.

The soldiers’ footsteps came into earshot from round the corner, growing louder along with their conversation.

“…has to be the single easiest invasion the Empire has ever carried out.”

“I know. But we were starting from a pretty strong place to begin with. Imfis is a vassal state after all, and they don’t have much in the way of an army.”

“Yeah, but I mean, even so, these people barely put up any resistance at all. Just a few boys and men with death wishes. The rest of them basically rolled over and surrendered.”

The soldiers came into view now, all five of them in black plate armour, and…

…turned into the street that Ryn and his companions were waiting in.