“So you know Wolfwood well?” I asked, pushing the beef floating in my stew with my spoon. After our encounter with the guards, Lionel led us straight to the Bleeding Stallion, an inn near the center of town. I hadn’t been prepared for quite how graphic the small painting on the inn’s sign was. It depicted a beautiful white stallion, strong and proud, being gutted by a spear. Humans seemed to have a strange obsession with violence and gore.

“I’ve spent some time here,” Lionel said, soaking a slice of very dense bread in his stew. “Usually I escort merchants into Goblin territory, or vice versa. It pays well enough.”

“And um,” I said slowly, “what exactly…are we doing here?”

“I have some contacts here,” Lionel explained. “Right now, if we just marched on Corpus Immortus, we’d get slaughtered. We’re going in blind. I need information and I need some time to plan.”

—

Like many inns, the ground floor of the Bleeding Mare was a tavern, crowded with townsfolk drinking, eating, and being humans, for all that entailed. The top two floors of the building were the rooms. Our room was a small but tidy thing on the top floor. It had one absolutely massive bed, a chest, and a small washbasin.

After we’d eaten dinner, Lionel shoved us into the room, told us not to go anywhere, and left. He’d even locked the door behind him. As I picked the lock, Ripper complained.

“My first time in human lands and I’m imprisoned in a room? Ridiculous!” she said, stamping around the room angrily.

The door lock popped open and I got up, dusted myself off, and walked out of the room. Ripper continued to complain for a few seconds, then she thought better of it and followed me out. I locked the door behind us and realized that we had no human money.

“Unfortunately, we won’t be able to do anything we want, but we can at least talk to the locals.”

We wandered back downstairs into the tavern, which was a bit less packed now that the dinner crowd had left. The only open seats were at the bar, so Ripper and I deftly scaled the tall stools and took our seats.

To our surprise, Durinel slammed two mugs of beer as big as our heads in front of us. Then, he leaned forward on the bar and asked, “So, you two, out for a drink?”

“Hello, mister, we don’t have any money,” Ripper said. “Lionel didn’t give us any.”

“Ah, it’s on the house then,” Durinel said with a wave of his hand. Ripper grabbed her drink and began to sip from the humongous tankard in front of her. She had to kneel on her stool and crane her neck to do it, but she looked quite happy. Durinel chuckled and handed us straws, which we happily took.

“So, you two,” he said, “what was it? Ripper and Quick?” We nodded. “Did Lionel lock you in your room?” We nodded again and Durinel sighed. “I must apologize for my friend, he has a tendency to do that. Trust issues, I’m afraid.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered. “What’s the worst we could do?”

“A smart pair like you? Not much, but it’s not you he’s worried about.” Durinel paused and glanced around the bar before leaning in closer. “It took a year of coaxing for me to get him to have a proper conversation. A year!”

“He’s been kicking around here long, then?” I asked. Durinel nodded.

“A few years now. Spends some time here, is gone for months, then shows back up. But when he’s here, he buys supplies, helps out around town, and most importantly, he’s helped fend off a couple of bandit and monster attacks.

“And now that we’ve got more to defend against, it isn’t a bad idea to have him around. How long are you folks sticking around anyway?”

I shrugged. “We’re on a sort of guided tour,” I explained. “Besides, the civil war complicates some things.”

“Aye, right you are about that,” Durinel said, chuckling. “It’s led to some big changes around here, I can tell you that for sure.”

I pulled out a small notebook and pencil I kept in my cloak. I flipped it open to a clean page and asked, “Would you mind telling me about that?” Durinel stared at me a bit suspiciously, so I said, “Travel journals are very popular where I’m from, I always wanted to try my hand at one.” I forced a small blush and cute expression to really sell it. Durinel seemed to buy it.

“Well, tonight you can see some of the changes for yourself,” he said carefully. “There’s going to be an execution in the town square.”

“Who’s getting killed?” Ripper asked. She had completely drained her beer and punctuated her question with a small burp.

“The former lord baron of Wolfwood,” Durinel said. “He’ll be the one in the fancy robes.”

“Ah,” Ripper said.

“To tell you the truth,” Durinel said, “most of us never saw hide nor hair of him until it was tax time. Then, he’d bring in his knights and go around picking our pockets.”

“Barons don’t have knights, those were just his levy soldiers,” Lionel said, sliding onto a stool next to me. I flinched so hard I nearly spilled my drink and Ripper just straight fell off her stool. She hit the ground with a thunk and a squeal. Lionel glanced at her with an eyebrow raised but didn’t say anything.

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“Hoy, Lionel,” Durinel said, sliding him a beer. Lionel reached for it, but Durinel held it just out of reach. “I heard you locked these two ladies in their room. That’s not the behavior of a gentleman.”

“I’m not a gentleman,” Lionel said flatly. “But yes, I did. That one,” Lionel said, pointing to me, “is a locksmith. I needed to know if she could pay her post.”

“What!?” I asked, incredulously.

“If you can’t pick your way out of an inn door, we’re going to run into some problems down the line,” Lionel said.

I glanced nervously at Durinel but Lionel waved his hand dismissively. ”It’s not a crime to want to pick locks.”

“What locks do you think you’ll have this lass picking?” Durinel asked.

“Not sure yet,” Lionel said. “But considering we’re going into some…dicey territory…it’s always good to be prepared.”

“Everywhere’s dicey territory these days,” Durinel said. Lionel raised his mug in agreement and took a sip.

—

A thousand people gathered in the town square. They crowded a wooden platform that had four prisoners standing atop it. Each prisoner was dressed in fine clothes, and had a burlap sack over their head. Their clothes, which clearly signified them as nobility, were dirty, ripped, and torn. Six guards armed with swords, spears, and bows stood on the platform, guarding the prisoners.

A woman, dressed in simple farmer’s clothes with a crimson red cap, climbed onto the stage.

“That’s the new mayor,” Durinel whispered. I was sitting on his shoulders, with Ripper on Lionel’s. With this, we had a clear view over the crowd.

The mayor cleared her throat and a wave of hushed silence rolled over the crowd. She unfurled a long piece of paper and began to read.

“Lord Baron Kurti of the House Duran, Lord Baroness Relle of the House Duran, you stand accused of anti-revolutionary activities, including but not limited to the abuse, murder, and harassment of the common people of Wolfwood, the suppression of democratic free assembly and thought, and the unjust repression of the people’s freedoms. How do you plead?”

Two guards pulled the sacks off the man and woman to the left of the stage. Below the burlap, the couple’s faces were bruised and bloodied, but their eyes shone with a distinctive fury.

“You best kill me,” the Baron said, a ice-cold venom dripping from his words, “for when the Emperor regains control of this putrid backwater, I’ll ensure that he skins every single one of you alive if it’s the last thing I do.”

The Mayor backhanded him and the Baron stumbled, but he didn’t fall.

“You will hang for this!” the woman screamed.

One of the guards hit her on the back of her head with the butt of his sword. She fell to her knees. The mayor spat at her feet before continuing to read.

“The Revolutionary Court of the Common People has found you guilty on all counts. You are deemed too dangerous to be allowed to live. You have been sentenced to death, to be executed immediately.”

The Baroness tried to stand up, but the same soldier who’d hit her with his sword wasted no time in stabbing her in the neck. With a disgusting squelch, his blade protruded from the front of her neck. The Baroness gasped in surprise as a fountain of blood began to spout out of her. She grasped at her neck, trying to staunch the flow, but it was pointless. The soldier placed a boot on her back, pulled out the blade, and kicked her body to the floor. The crowd cheered.

I noticed that the Baron had begun to sob. A nauseous feeling began to well in my stomach. Another soldier pushed him to his knees, bent him over, and a third chopped his head off. The head rolled to the edge of the platform, where the Mayor kicked it into the crowd. A riotous roar rose from the crowd. My stomach churned.

The burlap sacks were pulled from the final two prisoners, revealing two young men, one no older than sixteen and the other no older than fourteen.

“The Baron and Baroness’ kids,” Durinel explained.

The Mayor began to read off of her paper again. She went into a spiel about how the court had decided to give the two of them a chance to live. All they had to do was renounce their parents, their titles, and the monarchy. Then, if they swore allegiance to the revolution, they would be given tasks for rehabilitation, and then freed.

“I would rather die,” the older boy snarled. He had his father’s eyes. The younger one nodded in agreement but with noticeably less conviction than his brother.

The mayor nodded. “Very well,” she said.

The two brother’s heads rolled. The crowd let out a triumphant cry. I turned away and gagged. The world began to spin and I hopped off of Durinel’s shoulders. He said something, but I didn’t hear him. I stumbled through the crowd, weaving my way under people, until I was out of the thick of it. Then, I rushed to a side alley and threw up.

“Grandmother,” I pleaded, my voice a sickly whisper, “why have you sent me to this land?”

Lionel found me in the alley, sometime after the crowds had dispersed. I hadn’t noticed the time passing.

“Your first execution?” he asked.

“Yes,” I muttered.

“Ripper seemed to take it fine.”

“She’s a guard, it’s part of her job to oversee executions. But they’re private things in Hauvsadt. And rare. Very rare.”

“There’ll be a lot more culture shocks before we’re done.”

“Did they at least deserve it?” I asked.

Lionel sighed and sat down next to me. “I am a knight of the Emperor, you know. I may not be the right person to ask.”

I leaned over and pressed a hand to his chest, just over his heart. I felt his heartbeat. It was slow, steady, and strong.

“I feel a heartbeat,” I said. “You may be a knight of the Emperor, but you are also a man. A man with a heart. So I ask you, did they deserve it?”

Lionel stood up, pulling me up with him. He scooped me up in his arms and slung me over his shoulder.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Put me down!”

“It’s late, Quick,” Lionel said. “Take this chance to rest.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I complained.

“You’ll just have to get used to that,” Lionel said. I couldn’t see his face, but I could have sworn he was smiling.