Despite her reservations, Linara did her best. She took her eleven students - Sal and Felden’s ten men - and taught them whatever she could, as fast they could learn it. For Sal, this was an entirely different set of lessons than what they had done on the road. How a small group can coordinate to take out a larger enemy force. Identifying and eliminating the greatest threats. Seeing signs of stress and weakness in your allies and what to do about it. These were methods of the Hatharen people, not the palace guard in Olentor. There was no prince to defend, since she highly doubted Felden was going to be exposing himself to danger in the same way. She would make six of them participate in a mock situation at the time, leaving the others to take the role of opponents, or simply observe.

“Why six?” Sal asked at one point. “Wouldn’t two groups of five be better? One would be left out, but that would be better than five being left out, right?”

“Humans like five. Hatharen like six. It’s how I learned, even though I was a seventh.”

The girl gave her a confused look, but did not ask further.

Sal and Linara’s schedule focused entirely around teaching the group. They woke up, ate, and went down to the basement room to find the ten men waiting there. Linara alternated between making them fight, having discussions of ideas, and mock scenarios, until a break was called for lunch. After two hours of rest, they would regroup and start over until another break was called for dinner.

Linara smiled and praised progress whenever she could, but inside her she felt guilt. Her instruction was inadequate, both for the money she was being paid and the expectations of the men. All of them were good people who wanted to help Felden change the city to benefit the entire region. They wanted to be prepared to stand against the threat of an invasion from the larger nations to the south, but Linara could not help them with that. “I’m not a rank and file foot soldier. Where I come from we don’t have ranks of any kind. We just know how to fight for our own survival.” She repeated those words at least once a day.

Despite Linara’s stress, Sal seemed to be having a wonderful time, both in and out of the training sessions. Using her unique talents on the older men brought looks of joy to the girl’s face, and whenever one of them beat her she internalized her mistakes immediately. The dynamic of the mock duels between her and the men quickly took on a standard form. Sal fought defensively, either waiting for an opening or a repeated attack she could react to. The men needed to overwhelm her and defeat her before that happened. The patience of the older fighters only gave Sal more time to study their movement and habits, forcing them to be more inventive.

During lunch and dinner, as well as the free time afterward, Linara would see Sal spending time with one of the manor’s servants. A young-looking, tall boy around her age. He seemed to be part of the kitchen staff, as some days during breakfast he’d stop by and give Sal some extra food - usually a pastry or a bowl of fruit.

“I see you are making friends here.” Linara remarked one night after they returned to their rooms. Sal’s face immediately turned red, and she looked away. “Don’t worry about it that much. As long as you know we are leaving soon, and that you can’t take him with us.”

The followup statement pushed her over the edge. Sal seemed to shake, trying to contain embarrassment. “I’m-I’m just, um, we just kissed a few times.” She said, waving her hands anxiously. “N-nothing more than that. Just fun, nothing s-serious!”

“You can come back here, when you are done with your training.”

Sal’s mouth opened, then closed. She sat down on the couch, hands on her knees. “M-maybe.” She said, quietly.

On the first day of the third week, only nine men were waiting for Linara in the basement.

“Where’s Denham?”

The second youngest of the group, a farmer-turned-mercenary from the western region, was missing.

“He joined some of his men on patrol last night.” Velent answered. The two youngest had become friends of sorts.

Linara focused on him, unblinking. “Did he come back?” The young man pushed his lips together, shaking his head. “Then go find out. Now.” He immediately ran out of the room. Linara had a bad feeling about this. Celkeish might be large, but an ongoing power struggle could only stay cold for so long before one side made a move. While Felden had Linara training his forces, his opponents would not simply wait.

She led a short discussion, gaining a bit of information about the state of the city, when Velent returned, flustered. “Neither Denham nor his men returned last night.”

Linara swore. “Gisli, Jakop, Velent. Gather your twelve best men. Henrick, you are in charge of the rest. Defend the manor.”

Henrick instantly saluted. It was an Olentor-style salute, out of place here, but she didn’t correct him. The three she had named stepped forward. “Are we going on the offensive?” Gisli asked.

“We’re going to find our stray. That may or may not mean going on the offensive. In the meantime we can’t overlook the possibility of Felden’s political opponents mounting an attack while we are out. That’s why I only want a small force.” There were other reasons, of course. She didn’t trust herself to be able to properly command a larger group, especially in a city. Things could easily get out of hand. “Sal, you’re coming with me.”

The girl, who had stepped towards the group staying behind, turned to Linara, eyes wide. “Really?”

“You are my squire, are you not?”

Her face broke into a smile. “Yes ma’am!”

Half an hour later, the group marched out the manor gate. It was not an orderly procession, but it wasn’t a complete mess. While Linara had no experience or interest in parade ground drills, she immediately felt how much of a difference it would make for them to have exited in perfect ranks. At the very least everyone but her and Sal had matching uniforms, giving a decent semblance of unity and order.

Denham’s patrol had vanished near the southern tip of Felden’s part of the city. Not exactly on the border of the zone controlled by his opponents, but close enough to it. She led the party through the wider streets southward. They had not even gotten close to where the patrol was last seen when Linara saw the first sign of trouble.

A horse-drawn carriage rattled down the cobblestones towards them, in the exact center of the road. The easiest way to let it pass would be for her party to split down the middle, but Linara stepped to the side, waving those behind her to follow. As the cart passed, the horses broke free, the wooden wagon itself catching fire.

If it had been in the middle of them, it would have been utter chaos. As it was, the fire resulted in only minor chaos. Some of the men moved to grab the horses, others turned to try to stop the carriage from rolling further down the street, while others turned to look for the cause of the fire. Linara turned to the nearest alley just in time to see two men point crossbows at her.

Her knife hit one of the men in the chest, and he stumbled backwards, firing his weapon uselessly upwards. “Crossbows in the alleys!” She shouted, lifting her spear. Most of Felden’s men had bucklers, which were immediately raised, but she saw several of them get hit. Leaving the command to the captains, Linara rushed into the alley as the second man fired. His bolt failed to puncture her armor, and she ran her spear through his stomach. The assailants were unarmored, but behind the first two were more. Linara took down another with a stab to the neck as Sal appeared beside her, her sword singing a rattling song as she delivered a powerful slash to the fourth man’s shoulder, cutting deep into his flesh.

With the alley cleared, the two returned to the main street. The skirmish was already over. Apparently it had only been a small attack. Linara frowned. These were assassins, not soldiers. They weren’t expecting to deal with even the relatively small force that Linara had brought with her. Of the five of Felden’s men that were hit, two had died - one immediately from a bolt to the eye, and the other shortly after as he bled out from a shot to the stomach. Two of the other three were too wounded to keep fighting. Linara had Gisli assign the final wounded man and two others to carry them back.

“Jakop, Gisli.” She called the older knight and the soldier forward as the remaining men formed up, staying alert. They did not continue their advance yet.

“Ma’am?”

“Thoughts on the point of this attack? Twelve of them against forty one of us.”

“If they split us with the wagon and had more confusion, they would have been able to pick off several and run.” Gisli supplied. “Regroup for another attack with better odds later.”

“They could have prepared this before knowing our numbers, and gone with it anyway to stall us.”

“They did thin our numbers and they did stall us, but they lost more than we did. Alright, let’s keep going. Stay alert for more ambushes.”

It was hard to get a grasp on what her opponent was thinking, since she didn’t know who the enemy leader was. Felden’s vague mentions of a criminal organization that hired assassins didn’t give her much to go on. “Sal, are you alright?”

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“I’m fine, why?” The girl had wiped the dead man’s blood off her face, but it still stained her clothes and armor.

“Was that the first time you killed someone?”

“Yes. I’ll think about it later. Have to focus now.”

“Good girl.” Linara patted her on the head.

The group reached the so-called border without running into any more ambushes. Linara wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The southernmost district had no distinct line separating it, Gisli just pointed at yet another regular looking intersection of two streets and said that they had arrived.

“So, what now?” The soldier asked.

Linara frowned. There was no enemy in front of her. No direct fighting. She had someone to protect, but didn’t know where they were. “Do these people have a headquarters?”

The man stared at her. “Is your plan to just…walk up to them?”

“And start making demands. Yes. Best case, they get intimidated and just hand Denham over. Worst case he’s already dead. Most likely scenario is they use him as a hostage to force us to leave. We can bargain there, gain information to exploit them.”

Gisli rubbed his bearded chin, then nodded. “Arran.” He said, turning his men. One stepped forward - a tall, lanky-looking young boy whose armor looked both too wide and too short for his frame. “Ideas, lad?”

The youth looked first at Gisli, then at Linara, then back to his captain. “Usedtah beah place bydah wesside.” He spoke slowly but slid between words, combining them in very improper ways. “Yearsago, dunno if’t’ll be thessame place. Couldah moved.”

“Show us the way, lad.”

Nodding, he raised a long arm and pointed. “Thaway.” He said before taking the lead, quickly moving down the street.

“He’s a good kid.” Gisli commented. Linara nodded, but had her own doubts. The boy looked younger than Sal. Too young to be out here, risking his life, but mercenaries started young in the independent lands. Sal was years late to find a mentor.

Arran led them to a large warehouse, fortified by a tall wooden fence. As they approached, a man on the outside pulled aside a plank and vanished inside.

“I don’t like the idea of pushing into that gap blind. Is there another entrance?”

“Back hassa gap.” Arran said. “Can slipin, if ya small. I usedtah sneak an’ listen when iwassa kid.”

Linara frowned. The top of the youth’s head came up to her shoulder. “How small?” She asked. Arran looked past Linara, to Sal. “Right.” Linara said. She didn’t want to send Sal in, alone, but the girl was, in this culture, an adult. Just as much a professional as anyone else here. “Sal, you’re going to sneak in, find out if they are waiting for us to come through the gate or hiding deeper within. Arran can show you the way in, and the rest of us will stay here, in case they are watching. Get going.”

When Linara had first addressed her, a smile bloomed across the girl’s face, but she quickly became serious upon recognizing Linara’s tone. Nodding sharply, the two left, vanishing back into the surrounding houses to approach without being seen. Linara turned to stare at the front gate. It was mostly disguised, with no obvious door, but the dirt below clearly showed where people came in and out. The place must have started out hidden but as the group gained more power, they stopped caring.

While she waited, Linara sent several guards to get closer to the wall, carefully advancing with shields raised. There was no response. Frowning, she called them back and considered her next move. Waiting was stressful. She wanted to be the one doing something. Moving forward herself, drawing the attention of the assembled men, she knocked on the disguised door.

After a moment, it opened up, revealing a grinning Sal. “Nobody outside.” She said,

“I told you to come back from the back.”

The girl shrugged. “Someone knocked on the door, so I figured I’d open it.”

With a sigh, Linara stepped inside the compound. The warehouse behind the wall looked like an ordinary wooden structure without windows, and a large barn-style door in the front. Walking forward, Linara banged on it with her fist as two thirds of her forces entered. She had instructed Gisli to keep his men outside.

There was no response from the door this time. Linara slammed it again. “My name is Linara. I’m here for Denham and his men. Bring them out.”

This time, there was a response. The two halves of the massive door slowly slid open, revealing a dark entrance. Black curtains hung close to the entrance, limiting what the light from outside illuminated. A single man stood there, bald-headed and wearing a simple gray robe. He smiled at her. “You’ve brought a lot of men.”

As soon as he finished speaking, chaos erupted. A swarm of people ran out from the curtains. Plain-clothed, they might have been servants, or random people from the city collected for this purpose. They appeared unarmed, and many were crying or screaming as they ran at Linara and Felden’s city guards.

The leading runner tried to veer around her, and Linara swept his legs, dropping him to the ground. In the time it took her to do that, many of them had run past her. She was sure the scene behind her was messy. Would the guards see foes, or bystanders? Likely a mix of both. Linara tripped another, but then one ran directly at her, a knife materializing in the woman’s hand. Her face was twisted in a scream, but unlike the fear and panic of the others, she looked desperate, frantic, and wild. Bloodthirsty. Knocking the attacker’s knife hand away with her spear, Linara grabbed the woman with her other hand and forcefully shoved her into the dirt.

There were screams behind her, but in front of her she saw more people emerging from behind the curtain. Ten men wearing metal armor, complete with full-face helmets pushed their way through as the man in the robe stood there, smiling, a lone figure of stillness amid the chaos.

Immediately, Sal was by her side. Linara didn’t have time to check on the girl before charging forward, swinging her spear at two of the armored men. More than twenty of the men behind her were likely still dealing with the initial mass of people. She could easily buy some time for them.

Parrying a sword swing from one of her attackers, she kicked him in his armored knee. The blow did little more than force him back, but it gave her a second to deal with the other. She managed to block his attack just in time, catching his sword with the haft of her spear and pushing it to the side. He stumbled forward, his attack overzealous, not expecting her to respond so fast. Taking one hand off her weapon, she drew her knife and slammed it into the eye-slit of his helmet.

The man she kicked approached her again, more cautiously, his stance wide. In the corner of her eye, Linara saw Sal spinning in one of Grathen’s dance-like moves, sliding in close to her opponent and replicating the quick, heavy strike he had used, her sword somehow finding a gap in the man’s armor around his neck.

Linara’s second opponent proved more difficult than the first, not leaving himself open, instead taking up her time by threatening but not committing to an attack. He was stalling her. Ten more of the armored men emerged from the curtain behind him. Linara swallowed, but a yell sounded behind her. Quickly, she ducked to the side, and Jakop charged in, bullrushing Linara’s cautious opponent. Velent followed, taking up position beside his mentor. Linara still didn’t look back towards the entrance, instead finding another armored foe to square off against.

This one she swiped across the legs, dropping him onto his back, and rammed the point of her spear through his neck, putting her full weight behind it, piercing his armor. Another stepped forward, and she bashed his helmet with the butt of her spear, forcing him to stumble into one of his comrades. The two of them bounced off each other, falling into a heap. Armored though they were, they were not overly experienced, especially when fighting together. She dispatched the two before they could rise to their feet, and moved on to the next. Jakop and Velent held their own, slowly dispatching their foes, and Sal dropped her second, proving that her weapon could, with some care, be used against armor.

By the time the fight was over, Linara had dispatched six foes, finally taking the time to look back at the wall surrounding the warehouse. Bodies littered the ground, most of them plainly-clothed civilians, but a few wearing the colors of Felden’s soldiers. Daggers and hand-axes were visible near some of the corpses. Assassins hidden in the crowd. She didn’t know how many were allowed to pass.

Looking back at the warehouse, the man in the robe was nowhere to be seen. “Sal!” She called out, and the girl approached her, smiling wide before she stumbled, falling against Linara. Catching her apprentice, Linara found her hands wet with blood. “Sal! Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” The girl giggled.

Blood was slowly soaking the girl’s metal-studded shirt. Linara found the source - a stab wound near the bottom of her rib cage. She could feel her own body grow cold. A Hatharen wouldn’t be at any risk from this, but humans were more fragile. How fragile? In the castle, the procedure if someone was wounded was to take them to someone with experience and not mess anything up by doing it herself.

“Jakop!” She yelled, and the knight immediately appeared by her side. “Does anyone know medicine? Anything? She’s bleeding.” They had helped the other wounded, back in the alley. Someone knew something. Linara’s brain swam. She had dealt with people being hurt, people dying, before. Hatharen dying around her. Humans suffering from injuries. This was different. This was Sal. Years of experience did nothing to calm her down. Jakop said something, and turned away, yelling someone’s name. Linara couldn’t hear him.

“Oh.” Sal said, looking up at Linara. “Is it bad?”

“I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t feel bad. I got two of them. Just the way you said.”

“I know. You got them.” Linara said.

Someone appeared next to her, taking Sal from her arms. Linara didn’t put up any resistance, instead watching as the man pulled Sal’s reinforced shirt off. There was a lot of blood. It was wrong for them to be seeing her bare chest like this. Sal looked even smaller as the man placed her on the ground, examining the wound.

“She’ll be fine.” He said.

Her mind froze, the rush of thoughts coming to a sudden stop. “She will?” Linara asked.

“We have to stop the bleeding but that’s all it is. She, and several of the others, need to be taken somewhere safe.”

“Get it done.” Linara said, standing up. She wanted to go with Sal, to make sure the girl would be safe. Not to abandon her. However, her job was to find Denham and his men. The missing guards. Taking a deep breath, Linara turned to Jakop. “How many do we have that can fight? Not counting those outside.”

“Ten.” The old knight said. “Six dead, eight heavily wounded, counting the girl. We’ll need some of Gisli’s men to take them out of here.”

“Good. Make it happen. Send Velent with them. The-“

The young man immediately spoke up. “Why?”

Linara gave him a sharp look. Not quite a glare, but she looked at him with her entire focus. He immediately seemed to shrink in on himself. “You are one of the leaders. If we are sending so many back, with an escort, they will need a leader to keep them organized, to make them feel safe. This is important. Be on the lookout for more ambushes on the way back.”

“Yes ma’am.” He said, turning and leaving.

“And find someone to come and take a look at these people.” She yelled after him. Not all of the mob that had run out of the warehouse was dead. Whoever they were, she didn’t want to leave them there, but her own job was more important, as much as she hated it. She wanted to help everyone. Turning to Jakop and the last six guards, she pointed at the entrance to the warehouse, still covered in curtains. “Main goal is to find Denham and his patrol. He should be inside somewhere. Second goal is to find the bald man in the robe.”