370 days until the Arkon Shield falls

The entire infiltration force was in the corridor. Tara must have summoned all the scouts waiting on the roof to help clear the second floor.

At the moment, most of them were gathered at the far end of the corridor, and I assumed they had been tasked with keeping watch on the stairs in case any drunken stragglers wandered up from the party below.

I spotted Kenny and my familiar amongst the scouts. Seeing me, Ash rose from his hand and back to my own. “It’s good to have you back, too,” I murmured in response to the familiar’s pulsed greeting as I stowed her back into my pocket.

Looking up, I saw Tara striding towards me.

“What news?” I asked in a low voice.

“We have cleared all the rooms,” she replied, spitting in disgust and making no effort to be quiet. “None of the fools in them deserved to be called soldiers. Barely a handful sensed our presence before they died.”

I nodded. “Small favors. We should be thankful.”

Tara made a face but said nothing.

I hesitated. “Did you find many slaves?”

“Too many,” Tara said, her lips turning down. “Mostly women. We’ve gathered them all in one room and tasked a pair of scouts to watch over them.” She glanced at me. “How did it go in there?”

“Better than I hoped,” I replied and explained what we had learned from William.

Tara frowned. “Arenson is a rebel? Why would Gorkin allow someone like that to remain a councilor?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. We’ll have to ask him when we find him. William will lead us to him.”

Tara pursed her lips. “So you believe the boy?”

I turned to face her. “If you’re asking if I think he was lying—” I shook my head—“he wasn’t. I’m sure of it.”

Tara held my gaze for a moment. “Okay, if you’re certain. But you know what this means?”

I nodded. “We are going to be here longer than we expected.”

Tara shook her head. “More than that, Jamie. If we’re going to run around town looking for rebels, we’ve got to deal with the thugs downstairs first.”

My eyes narrowed. “What are you suggesting?”

“We have to take them out,” she said. “There is no other option. There are too many of them for us to guard or leave unattended.” She paused. “On the bright side, after seeing the quality of the gang members up here, I don’t foresee any problems dealing with those below.”

“There must be at least fifty thugs below,” I said sharply.

“More,” Tara said succinctly. “But most, if not all, are drunk or unconscious. Their numbers will count for little.”

I stared at her. “We will have to do it without raising the alarm. If even a single—”

“I know all that,” Tara interrupted, her voice cold. “But it needs to be done.”

I hesitated. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to cleanse the village of the gang as much as Tara did. Still attacking a room full of thugs, drunk or not, was risky. I scrutinized her face.

Tara’s earlier fury had not dissipated, but she appeared to have her emotions in check, and when it came down to it, I trusted her judgment on military matters. “Very well. Let’s do it.”

✽✽✽

I made my way alone down the stairs.

Shuffling awkwardly, I did my best to conceal my limp. Hopefully, if any gang members noticed, they would chalk it down to drunkenness or an old injury. The hood of my cloak was pulled forward to conceal my face, and its long sleeves had been left to hang loose to hide my curled fists. I’d left my staff behind, too. For what we planned, I wouldn’t need it.

The party below was still going full tilt, and the noise hadn’t abated. Given how much had happened, it was hard to credit that we’d been in the village for less than an hour.

I paused on the last step. Remaining within the shadows darkening the staircase, I scanned the chamber. It had been configured as a tavern and was packed. On the south side of the building and opposite me was the front door. A bar countertop ran the length of the right side of the room, and to my left, a small door led to the kitchen. The rest of the dining area was taken up by a score of round wooden tables, and of course, the thugs seated at them.

The gang members were in various states of undress. Some were shirtless, others in only their boxers, one idiot was even naked, but only a few were in full armor.

Stupid, drunk, and overconfident, I thought in satisfaction. But despite their lack of armor, every gang member was armed, including the naked one.

No one had noticed me yet. Too intent on their revelry, the seven dozen thugs in the room had attention only for their own drinks.

Killing the gang members on the floor above had gone off without a hitch, but they’d been isolated and contained in separate rooms. The thugs in the tavern were another matter entirely. Still, we had a plan and, by my reckoning, a decent chance of making it work.

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Leaving the safety of the stairs, I slid along the wall towards the bar. If anyone thought to analyze me, the game would be up, and then we’d be forced to move to our backup plan. But there was no reason for any of the thugs to do that. To all appearances, I was just another gang member. If an overly dressed one, I thought wryly.

Tara stepped into the room a moment later. Her head was bowed, and her face was artfully concealed by her hair. I saw one of the thugs—a captain by the look of him—look up and ogle her. I snorted in amusement. Even though Tara blended in more thoroughly than me, she was attracting more attention.

The captain rose from his chair—intent on what I wasn’t sure—but before he could take more than a step in Tara’s direction, another drunk stumbled into him, setting off a boisterous exchange.

From across the room, Tara and I exchanged a quick glance. “You better hurry,” I mouthed. She nodded and discreetly waved the others down before sliding along the left wall to place herself on the opposite side of the tavern.

One by one, an entire scout squad descended into the room. Despite the suddenness of their appearance, no one seemed to notice the exodus from the second floor. After the ten scouts had dispersed into the room, a final figure strode down the stairs.

Towering over the other men in the tavern and resplendent in full plate mail, the armored figure clanked into the room. As one, all eyes turned upon him. Leaning against the bar, I readied myself. Everyone was almost in place, and it fell to me to kick things off.

Close combat was something I tried avoiding, but given the inebriated state of the thugs, I didn’t think I would have any problems dealing with them.

“What’s going on, Gorkin?” a thug shouted as a disguised-John pushed his way to the center of the room.

“Where are your playmates?” yelled another.

John remained silent, and more shouts followed.

“Take that damn thing off. It’s ridiculous!”

“Go away! You’re ruining the mood!”

“Are you done, boss? Can I have a turn?”

Laughter and catcalls followed each of the jibes. I stopped paying attention. It was time to act. Unclenching my fists, I summoned magic and coated my taloned hands with toxic skin. From across the room, I met Tara’s eyes. “Go,” I mouthed.

Tara nodded curtly, and in the same motion, she dashed forward and slipped a dagger into the heart of the thug standing in front of her.

Before the corpse could hit the floor, Tara flowed towards her next victim. Seeing their captain act, the waiting scouts moved against their own marks. Tara and the scouts had selected their initial targets with care, choosing those that were sober or possible leaders.

Satisfied that matters were proceeding according to plan, I slashed out at the thugs to my right and left. My taloned fingers, dripping with venom, ripped through cloth and leather to rake the skin beneath.

Twin screams ripped through the air.

I smiled grimly. I’d not tried to land mortal blows. While Tara and the scouts were tasked with killing silently and efficiently, my own role was to sow mayhem and chaos.

And I was off to a good start already.

Arms spread, I spun about on the heel of my right foot, catching one thug in the throat and another in the face. Both staggered back, wounds bubbling as the toxins tipping my talons got to work.

Cries of consternation and fear broke out across the room. Despite this, many of the thugs didn’t react. Some thought it a joke, others were too drunk, while yet others were still caught up by the spectacle of the armored giant marching across the room.

Leaving my first four victims choking and gasping, I lunged forward and punched my taloned right hand into a gang member with his back to me. My hand plunged all the way through, ripping out his heart.

Caught out by my success, I flailed and almost fell over. But I managed to catch myself on a nearby table before that happened. Ripping free my arm, I found another target to attack.

Then another.

And yet another, a cold smile pasted on my face all the while.

In my wake, I left dying and unconscious gang members, their mouths foaming, their limbs spasming, and their eyes dripping blood. The venom produced by toxic skin was not lethal. Still, against opponents, unarmored and already intoxicated, it worked quickly to incapacitate those my talons didn’t kill outright.

The thugs around me were slow to react. Even the more alert ones were still fumbling for their weapons. Most, though, were still ignorant of the carnage being wreaked in their midst, and I stole a moment to scan the room.

In the center of the room, John had drawn his enchanted battleaxe and was swinging it with abandon at the thugs crowding him. The blade cleaved through bone and muscle, spattering those nearby with blood and guts.

To the room’s left, Tara and the scouts had drawn together and were fighting as a unit. The second scout squad had descended the stairs too, but instead of advancing into the room, they picked off targets with their bows from afar.

Giselle and Lance stormed through the front entrance. Sealing the door behind them, they drew their enchanted weapons and waited, while outside the tavern itself, a pair of scouts ran around closing shutters.

The thugs finally caught on that something was amiss. Crying out in alarm, they attempted to rally.

“Beware!”

“We’re under attack!

“Rally in the square!”

“Summon the orcs!”

“Get the others!”

Gang members surged to their feet, many swaying and stumbling. There was no coordination or direction to the heaving mass, though. Some pushed towards the front door, others towards the stairs or the kitchen but most, drawn by John’s striking figure, converged on him.

But the Sierra lieutenant was fully armored and in little danger. Swinging his ice axe in glittering arcs, John held his own. Giselle and Lance’s warhammers of fire and lightning were doing an equally good job of repelling the thugs at the door while Tara and the scouts thinned the numbers of the gang members foolish enough to advance on them.

It was I who was in the greatest danger.

Finally, sensing the lone enemy amongst them and, foolishly believing me easy prey, the nearby thugs descended on me. Their faces were fixed in snarls, glee shone in their eyes, and drunken threats rolled off their tongues.

I was not caught unprepared.

As the bodies pressed close around me, I flared. Dragonfire roared out of my taloned hands and, with my arms spread, I turned a slow circle.

Startled gang members shrank back. But they were packed too closely. The eager flames leaped onto their bare faces, arms, and torsos.

Skin redden and burned, eye sockets emptied, and tortured screams rose above the hue and cry of drunken men. There was little chance anyone would hear them, though. The doors had been shut, and the windows sealed. What sounds emanated from the building would be mistaken for revelry.

As the dead and dying around me mounted, the thugs turned and attempted to flee, their faces stricken with terror. But there was nowhere to go. We had them trapped.

Some amongst the gang, realizing their straits, dropped to their knees and pleaded for their lives. I closed my ears to their cries. They had no right to mercy.

My eyes burning with cold fury, I advanced. I had no intention of stopping, not until every last thug in the room was dead.

They would be made to pay for their crimes.