“Frederick.”

“Yes, Tullund?”

“I thought you said those other mercenaries wouldn’t be rejoining the war.”

“I underestimated their numbers.”

The old watchtower was occupied by more of the mercenaries, and Tullund’s group had come across the tracks of the fleeing group while approaching the structure. They stood on a nearby hill, observing Frederick’s old base. Nenhal stood nearby, while the rest of the Hatharen and the mercenaries were on the slope behind them.

“Lily and the rest of your team are still in there? Captured?”

“Likely.”

Tullund frowned. He had promised to protect Lily, then sent her away, despite her protests. He pushed the guilt aside, and stepped back below the top of the hill. “Alright. Twenty one of us, some twenty or more of them. Less than they had before, and some of the ones that ran from us might be wounded. They’re in a defensible position, and we’re out here. Nenhal, Frederick, any plans?”

The mercenary clicked his tongue and shrugged. Nenhal stayed silent, looking over the group. “Can we lure them out at all? Or sneak in some way?”

“Have to wait for night, see how they handle that. It is a watchtower, so they’re probably watching, if they haven’t seen us already. Though, we could try to trick them into letting a few of us inside.”

“How would you do that?” Frederick asked.

“We surrender.” Tullund said. “We say that we’ll do anything to free Lily. She’s not a fighter, we can make up a claim as to who she is. Someone important. It doesn’t matter what she would have told them, since anyone important would try to hide their identity. There’s plenty of reason to pretend someone isn’t a valuable prisoner, but little reason to pretend they are one if they aren’t. We can be desperate to get her back, and they have a good chance of believing us.”

“If I knew I had an important prisoner, I wouldn’t want to give her up.” Frederick said.

“Yeah. But, you’re a hardened mercenary. Would you give up some outside help to free your employer? Especially if your outside help was rare?”

He blinked, looking at Tullund, then at Nenhal. She stared back at the two of them. “I don’t understand the plan.”

Tullund walked next to Frederick, holding the rope wrapped around Nenhal’s wrists. She led the other eight Hatharen, all of them tied to her, similarly bound. Tullund had also tied their ankles together, loosely, letting them hobble along with the group as they all approached the tower.

“That’s close enough!” A voice yelled. Tullund looked at the stone structure, scanning the tall, thin windows, but couldn’t make out anyone.

“We want to negotiate!” Frederick shouted back.

There was a moment of silence, and the heavy gate at the bottom of the tower opened. A lone man stepped out, and it closed behind him. Confidently, he strode over to the group, axe in hand.

“This is not going to work.” Frederick whispered.

“Just do your best.”

The man stopped before he got too close, just near enough to talk without needing to yell. “What is there to negotiate?”

“You have our keeper.” Frederick said. “Girl, doesn’t know how to fight. Our employer needs her back. We’ll trade for her.”

“She told us she was a cook.”

“You seen any cooking gear in there?” Frederick asked. “Girl couldn’t even soak hardtack.”

The mercenary frowned, rubbing his chin. “What do you have to trade?”

“Long-ears.” Frederick said, gesturing to Tullund, who pulled Nenhal forward. She struggled for a moment, and he hit her, hard, across the face.

“Weren’t they fighting with you before?”

“Their people exiled them. Just strays we picked up. Would have sold them off when we were done with them anyway. Gullible idiots will believe anything we tell them. I’m sure the empire would love a few of them to study. Give us our people, and you can have them. I need my keeper, and I don’t want to leave my men behind.”

“Never seen a long-ear. Heard stories about them. Heard that Ettsgras has one. Wouldn’t they be upset you lost yours?”

“We have no business with Ettsgras. Helping them would end the war faster.”

Letting out a laugh, the mercenary smiled. “One of those employers, eh? Makes sense you’ve got a keeper.” He whistled, and the gate opened, ten men stepping out. “Two of you come with us and get your people. Rest of you wait out here. No funny business.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Frederick nodded, gesturing to Tullund again. The two walked forward, pulling the Hatharen behind them. The rest of the mercenaries, on both sides, watched, tense, as they made their way over.

The negotiator, standing almost as tall as Nenhal, slapped his hand on Frederick’s shoulder, causing the shorter man to stagger. “Come on, get inside, collect your people. Your friends out here try anything, and we’ll kill you. You try anything, and I’ll crush your skull.” Frederick nodded.

They were all escorted inside, Tullund occasionally glaring at Nenhal, who snarled at him a few times, but didn’t struggle. Too much struggling might reveal the small knife that she held between her wrists. Several of the other Hatharen had similar tools. Only a few of Frederick’s mercenaries carried knives small and thin enough to be concealed that way, so they made do with what they could.

Once the gate was closed behind them, the large man called one of the others over and ordered him to take the new prisoners. Tullund handed the rope over, stepping away from Nenhal, who now turned her angry gaze on her new tender. “Just hit her if she starts giving you trouble. They heal fast so you don’t worry about being rough.” He suggested, and the man grinned.

“This way, you two. You can meet your keeper.”

They followed the man into a second room, where Lily and five mercenaries were chained to the wall.

“What the hell is this?” Tullund snapped, turning to the man, who instantly hit him in the face, knocking him to the floor.

“You two idiots really just walked in here.” The big man laughed. Frederick stayed calm, looking at the prisoners. Tullund shifted his gaze from his attacker to Lily. Her wrists bloody wrists were chained above her head, the dark red of dried blood running down her arms. The others were in a similar state, all of them barely conscious. “How stupid can you get? You think we’d just give up important prisoners?”

Frederick let out a yell and turned on the man. His opponent reacted fast, throwing a punch at Frederick’s head. The shorter man easily blocked the attack with his forearm, and landed a kick on his opponent’s kneecap. There was a sickening crunch as the man toppled. Frederick was already spinning to meet another one of the guards. Tullund knew he was an expert in unarmed combat, but had never seen him fight for real. There was no equivalent of training swords for Frederick, he could only attack less vulnerable areas. While Tullund pulled a knife from his boot and dispatched the big man, Frederick drove his open palm into the face of another attack, sending the woman reeling back, blood flying.

There was suddenly shouting from the other room. Tullund got to his feet just in time to meet a mercenary swinging at him with a sword. He caught it on his dagger, feeling the impact of the blow up his arm. Unlike Frederick, he was not trained to fight at this kind of disadvantage. Luckily, his partner had finished with the female mercenary, and turned to help Tullund.

A punch to the back of the head dropped the second guard, and Frederick ran to the door, pulling it open. Tullund saw the chaos beyond as the Hatharen fought, taking their would-be captors by surprise. Turning, he moved towards the prisoners.

Lily’s chains were kept in place by a simple latch, with no lock. She simply couldn’t reach up to undo the latch. Tullund opened it, carefully lowering her hands. “Lily, can you hear me?”

“It hurts.”

“I know. I’m here now. I’m sorry. I have to free the others. Stay put.” Gently helping her sit on the floor, he moved to the others. Three of them he managed to get onto the floor without incident, but one fell limply into his arms, the man in a far worse state than the others, a massive bruise on one side of his face. Tullund placed him down as gently as he could before returning to Lily. He heard more sounds from the other room. Apparently the Hatharen had opened the door, letting the rest of the team inside. “Lily, I’m here.”

“The woman has the key.” She muttered. Tullund retrieved it from the woman’s corpse and opened Lily’s manacles, revealing her wrists. The blood wasn’t from her own struggling, the wounds were inflicted with a knife.

“I’ll find bandages.” He said, “I have to help the others first.”

After freeing the other prisoners, he stepped out into the main room. Bodies littered the floor, but none of them were the Hatharen. He saw two of them leaning against a wall, one with a massive cut down his shoulder, the other holding an arm that was clearly broken. Nenhal suddenly appeared before him, a bloody hole where her left eye should have been. She smiled at him.

“We got them all. None of them got away this time.”

“That was fast.” He said. “We need medical supplies.”

“Over here.” Frederick called. “One of the wagons we stole had some, so we put them all in the storeroom.”

“Help me out, then.”

Frederick and Nenhal assisted him in grabbing bandages, but upon returning he learned that the Hatharen had no idea how to use them. Frederick called one of his mercenaries over to assist instead. “They need water.” Tullund said. “We need to get out of here, though. We’ll have to carry them out. Grab some blankets as well.”

“We can do that.” Nenhal said.

The four wounded mercenaries were easily lifted up by the Hatharen, and Nenhal gently picked up Lily. The group left the tower, finding the first place to camp that they could. When they found a good spot, they set up makeshift beds for the wounded. Lily called Tullund over, refusing to lay down, instead sitting upright.

He crouched down next to her, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, bursting into tears. He didn’t know what to do aside from hug her, patting her back.

The next day, they moved further away from the tower, finding another spot to camp. With food and water, the five were able to walk. The third day they started moving north, again carefully crossing the ridges near the roads. With the size of the group Tullund was even more worried about being spotted, and twice they waited for travelers to pass by before exposing themselves.

“Not a lot of people moving around.”

“After the second caravan we hit, people got spooked.” Frederick said. “We didn’t attack any of the commoners, but they’re afraid all the same.”

Tullund nodded, and had them keep moving.

They passed through the woods without issue, far to the east of the two camps he had used to strike from with the Hatharen. Tullund was entirely unnerved as, over the days of travel, Nenhal’s eye grew back, looking like nothing had ever happened to it when they reached the meeting point for Rella’s group. They waited a day before Tullund had them start checking the camps, finding the mercenary captain at her second spot.

Apparently, the northern group had very little trouble, but also very little success. After two raids, the imperials had simply stopped sending supplies by the northern roads. Tullund figured this was the reason for the larger groups moving through his area.

“We’re going to end this part of the plan, then.” He announced, all of them standing outside the partially-built village. The mercenaries had taken to calling it stinktown, as an acidic stench permeated the area around the well. None of them were brave enough to try bringing any water up from it. “We make our way north, wait things out in the independent lands - take a good break, find real beds, have some baths - and then come back.”

There were nods and even a few cheers at this plan. Tullund still had plenty of ways to cause trouble for Celngi.