Triss glared at Reginald, who was completely ignoring her. “This is stupid.” She complained.

“So you have said. Repeatedly.” He answered. He sat with his back against the wall, cleaning under his claws.

Reginald hadn’t been as mad at her as she had expected him to be. His response to her stealing his wand had been shocking though.

He had put her in time out. Six feet above the ground. She had screamed at first, and he'd magically gagged her until she stopped.

She continued to glare at him, her arms folded and legs crossed. "Have you decided how long you're leaving me up here yet? It's been at least an hour now."

Reginald didn't even look up from cleaning his claws. "As I said before, you can come down when you've learned your lesson. And it's only been twenty seven minutes."

"What lesson!" She snapped. She paused and took a deep, calming breath. "What. Lesson?" She said, gritting her teeth.

"That you are not in your world."

"I know I'm not in my world!" She said with exasperation. "People on my world don't float like this, it's kind of a giveaway!"

"No." He stood and looked at her. "You don't. You expect this world and it's people to conform to your rules. Your ethical and social standards. Your sense of justice and fairness."

He paused. She glared at him, but didn't argue. He nodded and continued. "It's not going to happen. This world has its own ethics and morals. You don't have to agree with them. But you do have to live with them." He pointed at the broken body on the cobblestones. "This is what this world is like. Sometimes, people die. Justice is swift, and often brutal." He grinned suddenly, his razor sharp teeth gleaming. "And effective. Very few criminals reoffend."

"That's terrible." Triss said. "You can't just kill people like that!"

Reginald sighed. "Yes, Triss. I can." He sat back down against the wall. "That is the point. I can, and you need to understand that. This isn't your world."

The street was silent but for the harsh scraping noise of claw upon claw as Reginald continued to clean under each one. Eventually, Triss broke the silence. "I don't have to like it." She said angrily.

Reginald nodded without looking up. "You don't. And I am willing to, where possible, make some concessions. Such as having you leave the area before I kill someone." He turned a hard look on her. "I will expect you to listen to me. If I tell you to leave, leave. If I must kill someone I will kill them. If you must voice your concerns, you will do them later, not in the moment. There may be times where I need you to obey without question for your safety or my own. I expect obedience."

After a moment's thought, Triss nodded. "Fine. I'll do my best. As long as you can agree to not just blindly kill everyone."

"I don't blindly kill people. And I am capable of mercy, as you know." He indicated Derrel, who was laying on the ground, bleeding and unconscious but alive.

"That barely counts. You nearly killed him. I stopped you."

"I caused exactly as much damage to him as I wanted to. The spell was cast before you foolishly grabbed my wand." He stood and walked over to the soldier. He jabbed the man with his wand, and Derrel instantly woke up. Reginald pulled back his hood, then knelt beside the soldier, looking him directly in the eyes. Derrel was wide eyed with panic, but didn't struggle. "I think you'll find he's quite agreeable now." Reginald said.

"I think he would have been 'agreeable' when you crushed his friend to death." Triss said bitterly.

"Never hurts to be sure."

"I think it definitely hurt him!" Triss snapped.

Reginald sighed. "Are we going to need to stay up there?"

"No." She replied sullenly.

"Good." Reginald replied. He pointed his wand at her, and she descended back to the ground. "Now." He continued, looking at Derrel. "We're going to talk a walk. I think I'd like to speak to your captain.

The mercenaries were camped against the edge of the city wall opposite the forest. Two dozen rough canvas tents were erected sporadically on the trampled grass, encircling one large tent. All four sides of the central tent were tied back, and Triss could see several men standing around a table inside. Reginald walked confidently towards the main tent, pushing Derrel in front of him. They made it halfway through the small camp before anyone in the tent even noticed their approach.

"Hold there." One of them said, stepping out of the tent and raising a hand in the air. "Derrel, what is going on here? Who are these people?"

"Attackers! Fight!" Derrel suddenly screamed, diving into the tent and hiding behind the table.

The man put his arm down, and took a step forward towards Reginald. Then he bowed slightly. "Sir. I am Captain Thrend, commander of the Bloody Hand mercenary group." He straightend, then continued. "May I ask your name and business with my... associate?"

Reginald smiled. He bowed slightly. "Well met, Captain Thrend. I am Reginald Draxinius, first hand of Percival Arcanus, Lord of Thalonia."

Thrends eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he schooled his face almost instantly. "I see. I wasn't aware Thalonia had a ruler. My apologies for our intrusion on your Lord's land." He bowed again, slightly deeper this time, then straightend before continuing. "We are in the employ of one Master Grostel, owner of a shipping enterprise. A cart of supplies purchased here in Thalonia has gone missing, and we believe the culprits to be in the area."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Reginald raised a scaly eyebrow. "You believe subjects of my Lord to be responsible?"

Thrend shook his head. "No, there have been several carts taken from a number of areas. The cart in question was definitely attacked in Thalonia, so that is why we are searching here."

"What progress have you made?"

"We have located the location of the ambush, and three scouts are attempting to follow the trail of the perpetrators. It is, I'm afraid, quite difficult. Whoever is ambushing the carts has done an excellent job covering their trail. I am confident we will track them down though."

Reginald nodded. "I wish you the best in your endeavors. Lord Percival would not be pleased to find bandits in his kingdom."

"We will do our best to rid your kingdom of this scourge. Now, might I enquire again, what business do you have with Derrel?" Thrend glared over at the man who was still cowering behind the table.

"I'm afraid he and another of your men were bothering this young woman." He indicated Triss. "My apprentice, Triss." Thrend's face went white when Reginald said the word 'apprentice'.

"Um. Yes. Well." Thrend stammered. "Derrel and... probably Tuan. Bothering you say?" He frowned. "Where is Tuan?" He said, his voice growing cold.

"Dealt with." Reginald said flatly.

"I see. Would you mind giving me a moment to talk to Derrel?"

"Certainly." Reginald bowed slightly to Thrend, then turned and walked out of the camp. He stopped suddenly just past the last tent, and Triss almost ran into him.

They stood outside the camp for a couple of minutes, watching Thrend quietly talking to Derrel. "I have a few questions." Triss stated.

"Then ask." Reginald replied, not taking his eyes off Thrend.

"At first you hid from the soldiers, then you marched right up to their camp. Why? And why didn't they attack when Derrel said to?" Part of her also wanted to ask where he had disappeared to earlier, and why he didn’t protect her sooner. The rest of her was too bitter to care.

"I didn't know the size or composition of their forces. Or even what type of soldiers they were. They may have been bandits. If that were the case, I may have needed Percival's help to dispense with them. And they didn't attack because their commander isn't a fool. He obviously could tell I wasn't someone to take lightly." He paused for a moment. "In this world, mercenary forces are well regulated. No one would claim to be a mercenary captain without the proper authorization from the mercenaries guild. Not if they valued their lives."

A sudden sound drew Triss's attention. She looked over and saw Derrel on his knees in the tent, Thrend's sword stabbed through his chest. Thrend pulled the sword out, and Derrel collapsed to the ground. Two other men grabbed the body and began dragging it away.

"As I said before. This world is not the same as yours." Reginald said.

In that moment, watching the Derrel’s bloody and lifeless corpse being hauled away, Triss made a promise to herself. No matter what she had to do, no matter what sacrifices she had to make, she would get back home.

**********

Yorun watched through the spyglass with deep satisfaction. Watching someone die, even from a distance was always so immensely satisfying. Better to be the cause, of course. Better when you could hear them cry and beg, so full of desperate hope. To watch that hope and light fade from their eyes. Watching their warm blood flow into the earth. He shuddered with pleasure just thinking about it.

"So, uh, what's the plan now?" A gravelly voice interrupted his thoughts, and a spike of hot rage shot through him. He didn't show it of course. Ice was better than fire. Cold anger more terrifying than hot. He carefully put the spyglass away, folding it down and tucking it into a pouch at his waist. Every motion deliberate. Calculated. He turned.

The speaker was a short, squat creature with rough grey mottled skin. It’s face was only vaguely humanoid, and it had tall pointed ears and sharp tusks. It looked like the result of a torrid affair between a hairless rabbit, and a rock. Yorun didn’t know which of the hundred or so aptly named ‘rocklings’ this was, though he guessed it must be one of their leaders if it had the nerve to interrupt him. A few examples early on had kept annoying behaviour to a minimum, but Yorun wondered if it might be time for a reminder.

“Um, Master?” It asked.

“Why are you speaking to me? Where is Eric?”

“Sorry Master.” The rockling croaked. “Eric has not returned from the scouts.”

Yorun stifled a sigh. Control. “Bring me two of the bereaved.” The rockling rushed away to gather the creatures. Yorun smiled. He liked the bereaved. They were only semi-intelligent creatures, hardly smarter than a dog. But they were aggressive and violent, and they obeyed him. As did all the creatures in his army of misfits and rejects.

He smiled when the rockling brought the tall, four legged animals to him. Each one stood nearly as tall as him, with smooth black fur, long elegant necks, and a open, circular maw. Rows and rows of needle-like teeth lined the inside of their mouths. Yorun knew the spikes ran all the way down their throat. Any prey unlucky enough to be bitten would need to tear the captured limb off, or else be inexorably drawn down that toothy gullet.

Yorun rubbed their necks affectionately. “I have a job for you, my friends.” The bereaved shuffled their narrow clawed feet excitedly, and a malicious smile grew on Yorun’s face.

*********

“So, you’re just going to let them stay there and do whatever they want?” Triss asked. They were walking through town now, on their way back to the castle.

“Now that Captain Thrend understands the situation, he’ll be sure to rein his men in.” Reginald said. He wasn’t even bothering with the hood now. She supposed that after today, it didn’t matter. “I’m quite sure that we won’t have any issues.” he continued.

Triss wasn’t as sure, but she didn’t bother pointing that out. She didn’t need another lecture. She shouldered the leather pack she was wearing. It was a gift from the captain, meant to replace the canvas bag she had been carrying her purchases in.

The bloody bag she had been carrying her purchases in. She shuddered when she thought of it.

She hadn’t even noticed the blood splatter on the bag until Thrend had pointed it out. She was grateful for the new bag, and had thanked Thrend profusely, once she had finished screaming and thrashing and throwing the old bag.

The streets were much busier now that it was getting closer to evening. Most of the field workers and fishermen were home, and the streets were filled with a cacophony of sounds, sights and smells. She found it quite interesting how every few streets the smell of spices would change a little bit, as though each neighbourhood had their own secret blends, known only to them. None of the spices were exactly recognizable, but some seemed almost to remind her of earth spices. One neighbourhood smelled strongly of fish and liquorice. She was grateful when they finished passing through that one.

They didn’t even pause at the gate, but continued straight out, for about three steps.

A loud, mournful scream, filled the air. The hair on the back of Triss’s neck stood straight on end. Another wail came, a sound filled with pain and anguish, like a mother standing over a silent crib.

“Run!” Reginald hissed, grabbing Triss’s arm and dragging her forcefully back into the town. “Move! Move!” He snapped, pushing her into the town. She didn’t protest. She heard a loud groaning noise behind, and spun to see Reginald, wand out, forcing the gates shut. The second the latch was in place, he started running down the street. “Come on!” He yelled as he ran. He was incredibly fast, and only Triss’s longer legs kept her from losing him completely.

He stopped in front of Jonal’s shop. There were customers entering and leaving the store, and the whole square was quite busy. Reginald darted into the store, startling a poor woman who was carrying a stack of small white packages. She dropped them all on the floor, and Triss muttered a quick apology as she followed Reginald into the shop.

“Reginald! Good to see you!” Jonal exclaimed when he spotted the lizard rushing towards him. “Um, what seems to be the issue?” He paused in the middle of wrapping up an order for a short elderly woman.

“We need to talk. In private. Now.” Reginald gestured to a curtain that Triss assumed led to the back room. Jonal didn’t say a word, turning and walking to curtain. He opened it for Reginald, then followed him into the back room. The elderly lady protested angrily, and Triss muttered another apology before heading into the back room.

"What's going on Reginald?" Jonal said worriedly once the three of them were jammed into the small, cluttered storage room.

"There are bereaved outside the town." Reginald said in a low tone. "At least two, possibly more."

Jonal blinked, then chuckled nervously. "Bereaved? I didn't think you believed in folk stories Reginald."

"I don't."

"But bereaved aren't real!" Jonal said pleadingly. "Everyone knows they're just a myth!"

"Everyone knows that there's nothing beyond the forest too." Reginald replied tersely. "Bereaved are very real, but they shouldn't be anywhere near here. They should be in the Hordelands. If they are here that means someone brought them here. Which is a serious problem."

Jonal spent a moment processing Reginald's words before responding. "So, what are we going to do?"

"You're going to get the town elders to bring everyone inside the walls and shut the gates." Reginald pulled a small metal circle out of his tunic. "Show them this medallion. Have them compare it to the one in the lawbook. They won't argue once they see that." He looked at Triss. "You're staying here." When she began to protest he simply spoke over her. "I need to speak to Percival. I can make it past the bereaved and through the woods alone. I can't bring you safely. You will stay here." He said firmly. "Jonal?"

Jonal nodded, then turned to Triss and forced a smile back on his face. "Well, I guess you're coming for supper sooner than expected."

"I'll be back as soon as possible." Reginald said to Triss. "Stay inside the walls, no matter what happens. Listen to Jonal. Stay safe." He turned and rushed out through the curtain.

Triss turned to Jonal, who was staring at the medallion in his hand. "What in the world is a bereaved?" She demanded.