Rhys’s display of vicious imperial decisiveness had made him hero of the hour in the castle. I was one of two people aware that after he strode boldly from the hall, he had promptly vomited. I found him sitting in his bathroom, back against the wall, taking deep labored breaths as Eleanor softly petted his hair.

Tears silently fell down his face. He seemed tragically practiced at making no sound. He looked at me one time and meekly smiled, still crying, before turning his head down and hiding it in his crossed arms. I looked at Eleanor, she just shook her head.

I sat down next to Rhys. We spent a good portion of the night not saying anything. My silence wasn’t shock or remorse, simply quiet empathy as my mind continued thinking about the case.

In fact, the life that was taken under my hand meant very little to me. I worried that I was more annoyed at losing a potential lead than how ready I was to end them. I thought of the last execution I had witnessed. The one eyed soldier hanging from the tree. They broke the rules, they paid the price.

I had cried for the innocent, lamented the unfortunate, but I had an untouchable coldness for the guilty. Looking over at Rhys shaken to his core, I wondered if that made him a better person than I was.

At some point, Eleanor helped Rhys up and towards the shower. I took it as my queue to leave. I stood in the hallway and looked down at my own outfit. It was a mess in a way I hadn’t been in months. The activities of the night had me uncomfortably warm and I was thankful when a breeze rolled through a window chilling me. I leaned out the window and took in the night, letting the sticky heat be sapped out of me.

I heard a door behind me. Eleanor was quietly closing it behind her. I turned, half leaning against the window sill.

“Shouldn’t you be in there?” I asked.

She shook her head, “No, he appreciates us being there for him, but he needs some time alone not performing.”

“His anguish is an act?”

“No, the lie is that he’s alright at all.”

“Ah,” was my half-hearted reply. I didn’t know what to say. It felt like another moment where Rhys was a stranger to me.

“How are you?” Eleanor had an inquisitive look. I don’t know if she was looking for dishonesty in my response or simply studying me in one of the first intense experiences we’d shared.

It was a simple question that I didn’t have any real answer for. That was a lie, I had an answer, “I’m alright, a little tired.”

“You are alright, aren’t you,” it was a stated fact, there was no demanded response, “Thank god. I love his bleeding heart, but I don’t want to babysit two of you.”

Her callousness was greatly reassuring, I felt less alone, “I take it you’re not too broken up.”

“I was the one that told him it had to be done. Now that it is, we deal with the results.”

“And the suspected fallout?”

She sighed, “Overwhelming success. The Sovereign will retell the story to every person she meets, Barbra will tell a version where she made the call, but otherwise positive.

“And Kael?” He had made an impression on me tonight.

“Inconsequential,” she replied flippantly, “But he’ll repeat whatever Barbra asks of him publicly.”

“Not the closest couple?”

“Strategic marriage or at least it was a hundred years ago. It makes me laugh that permanent personal agreements are used to service political situations that change violently and regularly. They were brought together for a piece of territory that has since swapped hands six times. At this point I think it’s the awkwardness of a public break up that keeps them together.”

“Look at you, hopeless romantic wishing for marriages out of love,” I teased with a smile.

“And tonight I advocated to take a life out of political convenience. I may hate the game, but I’ll play it to the best of my ability,” she replied with a grim determination.

There was a question I had been chewing on, but was never brave enough to ask. After the brutality and honesty of the night, it felt small enough to risk, “What is the future for you and Rhys?”

She gave a small ‘heh’ that caused her shoulders to rise and fall, “If you ask him, everything works out, we don’t have to sneak around the court, and we get to be blissfully in love for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there a ‘how’ in his version?”

She shook her head, “No, because the reality is we’ll get to play pretend until some political crisis forces his mother's hand and it’s politically advantageous to promise his hand to someone.”

It was a sobering thought. I tried to imagine Rhys being forced to marry someone on command. I knew exactly the smile he’d wear.

The next day was uneventful as well as the day after that. A week passed with the castle still in a state of recovery from the shock. I had taken the lead on the investigation. Rhys was publicly humble and gracious to every person who asked to shake his hand and thank him personally, but privately he was struggling.

I kept him up to date on the aftermath of the night and what I had found out. The assassin was an out of work ranch hand, she had a string of poaching charges, but had apparently been out of official attention until this event.

I had interviewed all the band members, many of the servants, and a few of the guests. They had nothing of use to add. All knew nothing of the woman or her possible motives.

The weapon itself was easy to find during the clean up, it lay in an instrument case in the rafters, which explained how she had smuggled it in. A mistake that I was sure the guard captain was yelling at his men for.

Rhys had been attentive, but useless every time I briefed him. He would soak up the information and dutifully ask a follow up question or two without offering anything of substance.

It was during a breakfast that he, Elanor, and I were sharing that he finally said anything of significance.

“There’s a heartlessness required in ruling that I don’t think I’m capable of.”

Eleanor and I both looked at each other for a moment, mentally deciding the angle to take. I had apprehension over Rhys since learning his family name, but after watching his anguish, I respected him. Of everyone I had met, he seemed the most emotionally attached to doing the right thing. His heart truly was in the right place, it seemed the world around him that was wrong.

“Then quit,” Eleanor said with a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth, “I mean if you can’t do it, then don’t. Just stop now and quit.”

I looked at her aghast. I couldn’t think of any way to follow up to her remark. All the supporting and cheering I was mentally preparing crumbled in the face of her glib remark.

Rhys stood up looking at her, eyes fierce for a moment, before leaning down and kissing her forehead, “You get me, thank you.”

Eleanor looked over at my shocked expression, “The best way to beat his self-pity is telling him he isn’t capable. A momentary burst of spite tends to help.”

I turned to Rhys, “So, you’re alright?”

“I’m not, but I’m ready to put my next foot forward. What is our next step?” He asked.

I thought about his comment. I had been spinning my wheels on that very topic. “So we have an increased number of conspiracies to commit violent crime that always gets caught, until the other night, assuming it’s related,” I started giving a rundown, buying some time to think, “We have a useless investigator, increased executions, a poacher turned assassin, a bunch of useless anonymous notes…”

I paused

“Yeah, the notes that have the same information as the case. There’s nothing extra in them that we didn’t have in the reports,” Rhys finished for me, perplexed at my pause.

“There is a difference between the notes and the reports.”

“What?”

“The when,” I said beaming, “The notes came before, the reports after.”

“That’s… how it works? There’s always a report after the case,” Rhys couldn’t see

“But there shouldn’t always be an anonymous note that has all the information. Sometimes people get discovered, sure, but from a farmhand turned bombmaker to a barmaid hoarding poison, they let slip their entire plan to someone who neatly writes it out and sends it in? Each event makes sense alone, some information slips out, but all together it doesn’t make sense. The only reason someone knew all the information is they were helping plan it.”

“So, they go through the trouble of organizing all these violent acts, but then stop them right before they happen? Why?”

I pondered, “It has to do something with blood tithes. It’s what brought their plan to our attention. I bet they’re losing control of their system. Just like with the attack, they recruit people and turn them in, but more people start taking up the cause than are needed. They still have to be stopped which means more executions. Which means they go over their required blood tithes.”

“It’s a good theory, but where do we start? The tax office? They’ve been investigated repeatedly and there hasn’t been a hint of anything.”

I started to smile, “No, no we get ourselves recruited.”

Rhys was a miserable drunk. The dirt and the grease of low quality taverns did not suit him. He was constantly running a hand through his hair and then looking disgusted and at the way it felt. Worse still, once he truly started getting sloshed he’d try to pronounce large words as if to prove he was still in charge of his faculties.

I, on the other hand, felt a little too comfortable.

It had been weeks of slumming it and complaining just loudly enough for people to hear. New to the city, out of work, and pissed off at the current regime. It was an easy story to sell and one that many people at the bar were happy to drink to. The last step was disguising Rhys. While we suspected that no one in this part of the city would recognize him, it wasn’t something we were willing to bet our lives on. Rhys had darkened his hair with an ugly dye and faked a scar with makeup. It wouldn’t trick anyone who knew him well, but he no longer matched his own description of a fresh faced blond.

We had started in nicer taverns, but savvy bartenders were quick to turn us out. Our rabble rousing didn’t win us any friends among the employed and the comfortable.

Down here though where it seemed odd jobs were the only job, we were greeted like kings. We had money and complaints, we were the two most popular people in the bar. I tried to be just showy enough to get attention, but not so much as to arouse suspicion.

I didn’t know what these shadow recruiters were looking for.

“Grammaticalization!”

It probably wasn’t that. I sighed looking over at Rhys, he had just been talking about his “excellent sentence structure” in a slow slurred way and had gotten stuck on that word. Now he was repeating it, confirming he could say it.

“Grammaticalization,” he repeated half looking past me.

“I know buddy, you’re doing great,” I said sighing again.

“The empire sucks!” he almost yelled. I took that as the queue that our undercover work was done for the night. I called over the bartender and argued about the number of drinks we ordered before paying the correct amount. Pulling Rhys off his stool I made my way towards the door.

“Looks like your friend had a good night,” a voice behind me cooed out.

I half turned expecting casual mocking, but while the speaker looked in excellent spirits, the man behind him was large and frowning in a way that implied thoughts of violence.

Was I too cavalier with the money? I had paid for a man’s drink to hear the story of how he lost his job. I had hoped the generosity would’ve gotten some useful information, but it may have just earned some more hostile attention.

“Yeah, but he’ll pay for it tomorrow,” I said with a smile. I had one arm around Rhys, but the other was hidden behind me. The blade was secreted away, but accessible. I briefly wondered if Rhys would take offense if I used him as a projectile.

“He seemed to want to engage in some pretty dangerous talk in the middle of the city,” I tried not to seem eager at his response. Looking at the ruddy smaller man, I had a faint memory of him in another bar.

“He’s had too much, he doesn’t mean anything by it,” I said, trying to play the situation cautiously. In reality, someone shouldn’t jump at the chance for sedition, but I also didn’t want to play too hard to get.

“That’s too bad, I always respect hearing an honest opinion.”

“They do say there’s nothing more honest than a drunk’s rambling, but this is a bit too public for a true philosophical discussion,” I chided myself mentally. My own urge to show off was not making me sound like an out-of-work farmer.

“We have a more private place, if you’re interested,” the offer felt suspicious, but considering my goal was suspicious, maybe it was the perfect fit.

The walk was a slog, not just due to the filthy backstreets, but from lugging along Rhys. He seemed keen to the ruse, but not sensible enough to find the manageable level of useless drunk. At least I hoped he was overplaying it. I didn’t like my chances if things went sideways and I had to find a way to carry him and fight off two guys.

Finally we ended up at another bar. I was confused until the bartender gave them a noticeable nod on their way in. There was a comfortable air here of people sharing a secret. I would’ve felt in the dark, but I suspected I already knew. Our guides pulled us over to a corner table.

“Not a fan of our leech overlords?” The ruddy man asked with a grin, “My apologies, I’m Belgie and this is Tyke.

Even now seated I was looking up at “Tyke.”

“Edith,” I lied casually, not the first guy to get my fake name in a bar, “And this is Ben,” We had agreed on cover identities weeks ago, but now I worried about Rhys’s acting abilities.

“Question stands, Edith,” for the first time there was some edge in his tone.

I made a show of mulling over my answer, but I had been practicing for this moment since I first had the idea, “Only people who are are those getting something from them. Do I look like I’ve been gifted anything?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Belgie gave a little chuckle, “Nah, nah, but you've been slinging some serious coin the past couple nights. Those bar bills do tend to add up.”

It was a danger of the cover I had suspected. Out-of-towner meant no tab, but hard to be obvious drunks without a drink. I had a lie prepared, but knew it’d be worth more if he had to dig it out, “family inheritance, what can I say, I’m a lucky gal.” The truth made an excellent outrageous cover.

“Cute, but I suspect more nefarious procurement.”

“A serious accusation,” I leveled back. Rhys tried to join in with a darkened expression which did not seem to mesh well with his drunkenness.

“A serious compliment,” Belgie gave a wink, “Don’t get me twisted, I like to lean more freedom fighter than cutpurse, but we both earn the same title of criminal.”

“Freedom fighter?” I let my actual curiosity into my act.

He nodded solemnly, “Tyke and I are members of an organization that specializes in making the right kind of trouble.”

I mumbled an unimpressed “hmm.”

“We’re always looking for recruits,” he seemed hopeful

“And you just pick up drunks who complain? Sounds like an unimpressive organization,” I ridiculed, trying to put him on the defensive.

He took the bait, “Did you hear about the attack at the feast?”

He was bragging now. His brazenness made me annoyed at the amount of effort I had put into being subtle and devious, “I heard something of it.”

‘Something of it,’ didn’t seem to be enough for Belgie and he began to talk at length about it and many things. From “bribing guards” and “impressive number of true patriots,” I didn’t even need to ask any questions. Apparently this rung of society felt no need to hide their contempt. I thought of the officer in charge of sedition. Not like they had a great adversary to avoid. The conversation flowed for a little over an hour. It ended with a follow-up to be “judged” at a later date. We were told to come back in a couple days.

In the end, we had a name: The hero’s conclave.

The next day had me looking out the inn’s window, curious if there was someone watching us. Staying at the castle would’ve been tactically foolish and an annoying walk down to the slums everyday. So, I combined my favorite parts of being clever and lazy and set us up in a small inn that didn’t ask many questions.

“We have a name, a place, and a date. Do we have a plan?” Rhys asked. He looked like a wreck, even sleep hadn’t removed the bags from under his eyes. He had spent the last couple weeks complaining about the noise from the street and I had spent the same time complaining about his snoring.

“Infiltrate the organization, discover the leader, and destroy the group?” I offered.

“Seems more like a goal than a plan,” he ruminated.

“You are more than welcome to offer up a suggestion,” I shot back.

“I got us that meeting last night. Seems like I’ve done my part,” I’d make the mistake of letting him know that his unsolicited yelling seemed to have been useful. He had been insufferable about it.

I sat silently. There were too many unknowns and while the group had been cocky up till now. It would be easy for them to disperse and put us back to square one. That left out heavy handed approaches. This could be our only chance. I suspected whoever was brought to judge us would be in charge.

“I think we play along. We go to the meeting, find out who’s behind everything, and from there we can come back with support.”

“So we infiltrate, discover, and destroy?” Rhys asked mockingly.

“I would’ve brought Eleanor if I knew you’d be such an obnoxious lightweight,” I shot back.

Rhys got a sudden serious look, “That’s what your plan is missing.”

“Eleanor?”

“Yeah, if something goes wrong at the meeting, who knows where we are? No one. If we fail this ‘judgment’ there is no one to follow up. We’re just two agents that went missing.”

I mulled it over, it was solid reasoning, but I wasn’t happy about the idea of marching back to the castle right after we had made contact. I tried to weigh what was more risky, getting caught getting backup or getting caught without backup.

“I don’t think we make it to the castle and back without someone noticing.”

“We don’t, but if you spend the day carousing and complaining about your ‘obnoxious lightweight friend’ spending the day in bed. I should be able to get there and back. Think you can spend the day drinking and getting into enough trouble to be noticed?”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

I helped with the note that Rhys would put in Eleanor’s hands. The faster he could get in and out the better chance we had. From there I did a pub crawl with a purpose, every place we had been hitting for weeks I made an appearance.

I did a flagon with some file clerks, shots with some sheep shearers and even got in a brawl with a butcher. All the while, I complained about “Ben.” A few people offered to fill my companion slot, but I made sure to turn up the obnoxiousness the second they offered to put them off the idea rather quickly.

I was rather impressed with myself and drunk by the end of the day. Stumbling back to the inn, Rhys laughed at me.

“I’d ask how the day went, but it looks pretty obvious.”

“I am a- an? expert plan follower!” I announced excitedly

“Made sure to mention me?”

“Yup,” I started stripping off my clothes in the other room and proudly declared, “Everyone knows how much of a little bitch you are.”

“And I got the letter to Eleanor. Will you be ready for tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, yeah, because unlike you, not a little bitch!” I threw on a new shirt that was much less sticky than the previous one.

“Going to be an all night thing, isn’t it?”

I returned to the room and rested my hand on Rhys’s shoulder looking him deep in the eye, “I’m gonna level with you. Yes, yes it is.”

The next morning was a sledgehammer of light. The window had a thin shade over it, but it barely stopped the visual assault. I covered my eyes with my arm, but the smell of fresh bread and rosemary made me lift my head. Rhys sat at the little table in the room. A loaf already cut rested in the middle and a little dish of olive oil.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, standing up and bringing me a plate with a piece of bread.

I took stock, some soreness, but other than my annoyance at the sun’s persistent urge to exist, I felt functional, “Solid enough, yourself?”

He gave a chuckle, “Impressed that you’re up so early. I just got back with the bread. I was going to let you sleep in a bit.”

“I feel we already covered my astounding physiological abilities last night,” I took the bread and started munching on it, “Hope I wasn’t too obnoxious.”

“Certainly loud, but if the plan works I’ll accept some hearing loss.”

The food was refreshing, but there was a nervous edge that neither of us could shake throughout the day. We were taking a big risk. We argued about every detail. Should we bring weapons? Was it more convincing if we specifically hated one race of mythics more than another? How quickly should we try to leave after we learn the leader’s identity?

We fought over bunches of hypothetical scenarios, but the only thing we could agree on was we had no idea what we were in store for. The only fact was we were going to be under constant surveillance the second we stepped into that bar. We made a quick list of code words to at least get a general idea across without blowing our cover.

Night fell unceremoniously around us and we made our final preparations. I slipped a knife into my boot to Rhys’s frown. It was a compromise and as was trademark of such a decision, neither of us were happy with it.

Walking through the streets, I shuddered a little bit. This was just a fact finding mission. Everything would be alright, just had to go in, say we hated the right things, and then walk out.

The bar was empty when we walked in. Just the bartender was behind the counter. He nodded to us and I nodded back with no idea if that was the right sign or if it was just a standard greeting.

Belgie appeared from a back room. He had a nervous kind of skitter to him, Tyke was close behind visibly armed.

“Oh, thank goodness, you made it!” Belgie said with a forced energy.

“We did…” I said, taking stock of the situation, “Why do I feel like I brought a bottle of wine to an intervention?”

Belgie gave an awkward smile, “No, no, everything is alright. Just got word, that we shouldn’t have been recruiting now. Had a bit of an argument to get you in. The leader needs some more time, so you’ll have to wait here.”

“Just sit around up here until he shows up?” Rhys asked. His nervous look was less obvious than Belgie’s, but I was worried about what mine looked like.

“No, no, just downstairs,” He offered the room behind him which I assumed had a staircase in it.

We could easily run now. There was nothing blocking the door, I saw Rhys eye the path as well. This was our only opportunity though.

“Of course,” I said quickly. We followed him into the backroom that had a bunch of kitchen equipment and a basement staircase that looked well worn.

Tyke took up the rear and I felt my discomfort increase. At the bottom of the stairs was a heavy door that Belgie knocked on in a very specific sequence.

As the door opened, cool air hit us. I saw Rhys shiver slightly as he crossed the threshold. Inside there were more men and women, the numbers were quickly turning less and less in our favor if something went wrong. Many were armed and looked at us with a mixture of contempt and curiosity.

The hallway had a bunch of doors, but Belgie brought us to the door at the very end. Inside the room was what appeared to be a jail complete with a bed in it.

“I can’t say I’m thrilled with the accommodations,” I tried to joke.

“Increased security process. It’s just temporary until your judgment and then when you’re a member you’ll be free.”

Or we’ll be dead, I wanted to answer, but I didn’t want to give anyone any ideas. That was always a risk of this plan. We were willingly walking into the wolf’s den. Belgie opened the gate and offered it to us as if it was a suite. I walked in with Rhys following. As soon as we were in the bars closed with a loud crunch and Belgie locked the door. He and Tyke left the room, but after seeing so many people down here, I assumed someone would be listening.

“Just another Saturday night, huh?” It was our code to keep the plan. Rhys just nodded and swallowed hard.

We took turns on the bed. Though neither of us could sleep, the act of trying passed the time. I didn’t feel comfortable trying to have a full conversation, I didn’t trust myself not to give away something.

It felt like hours in the cage. A couple times someone came in and asked if we were alright and offered water. Everyone who came in seemed on high alert. I was curious if their skittishness would be useful or dangerous when the judgment actually started.

I was curious if I was going to have to start scratching days on the walls. I don’t know what purpose it’d serve, but it’s what people did in books. I guessed that scratching against rock at least killed time. Just as I was eyeing different loose rocks to try with, the door opened again and Belgie and Tyke came back in, each had a black bag.

I guessed what came next, but felt no better when Belgie confirmed my suspicions. As they put the sack over my head, I felt irritated at the roughness of the cloth. Despite myself I almost laughed that I was more offended with the material of the bag rather than the fact I was now blind and being guided by I had to assume Tyke’s grip.

It was a slow walk. I tried to go with the flow, but it was still a stumble trying to blindly navigate through the unknown hallways. They did their best to keep us moving correctly, but I heard Rhys grunt as he bumped into a wall. Belgie apologized and we kept moving forward.

As we crossed through a door, I could tell the room was much bigger. Each step I took echoed as if off cavernous walls. After a few more steps, Tyke spoke for the first time, “Kneel.” It was a deep gruff voice.

I knelt and felt the rock underneath me as I steadied myself. I kept a hand near where I had secreted away the knife. My boot’s uncomfortable secret fold doing its job of hiding my only weapon. It felt unlikely to be useful, but knowing I could reach it gave me a sense of comfort.

The sound of more people entering the room filled my senses. The slight echo made my count impossible as each step reverberated multiple times. I settled on the number: many. Still they were far away as if they were covering the edges of the room.

I could hear their murmuring, but I couldn’t make out anything they were saying. The sack over my head added a slight muffling sound.

Another door opened and everyone fell silent. I tried in vain to look through the fabric of the mask, but nothing was visible through the rough threads. A single set of footsteps echoed, each one piercing the air before bouncing off the walls.

“Brothers, sisters, heroes!” The voice called out, I heard the soft intake of a gasp next to me. I craned my neck inside the sack as if it’d make me hear better, “We are meant to lay low. A mighty blow was struck. This was done ahead of the timetable though, it has made us vulnerable to discovery!”

I understood the gasp.

Kael Trask was the one speaking. He was leading the group. Leading didn’t feel like the right terminology, manipulating and exploiting. He found disenfranchised people and pushed them towards crimes he could execute them for.

This was the worst case scenario. There was no way the second these hoods were off Kael wouldn’t recognize us. Rhys’s newly dark hair wouldn’t buy more than a couple seconds to the man he had repeatedly shared a meal with. Worse still, Kael had these people in a murderous frenzy of righteousness. My thoughts raced looking for anything to grip onto.

“Now is not the time to bring in new people. We must close ourselves off from the corruption and dangers of this world. Still, our cause is noble and many will flock to us. I will be gracious to their zeal and judge them worthy or not for our cause!”

There was a cheer from many voices. My hand was firmly on the knife hilt. The second the hood was removed, I would come out swinging. Maybe through surprise I could get Rhys and I out of here.

“Bring them forward!” Kael’s voice boomed.

We raised up and I kept the knife as hidden as I could in my sleeve. Without being able to see I felt incredibly conspicuous, but no one stopped me. There were no calls and shouts as I approached whatever was ahead of me.

And then there was.

From behind us someone was shouting, “They’ve found us! The Imperials are upstairs!”

“Fools! You brought spies into our home! Kill them! We must disappear!”

It was too early for Eleanor to come to our rescue. I had seen the note that Rhys had written. Still, I would take advantage of the confusion as I ripped off the hood and registered Tyke next to me. I swung the knife wildly. It slammed into his chest until my fist was against him. He didn’t respond as he hadn’t seen the knife and seemed stunned with how much my small fist hurt.

As he crumpled to the ground I pulled his sword from its sheath.

“Victoria?” Kael’s voice was a shriek that seemed to reverberate the rough stone walls. We were in a cavern. Stained glass, backlit by flames, covered the walls almost making us feel like we were above ground.

Kael wore a mask with horns and was in a bright white robe with gold trim. Looking over at Rhys, he was struggling with a Belgie who was similarly robed, though he had no gold trim and was quite a bit dirtier.

Everyone around us wore the same thing and their shouting was deafening. Some charged toward us, some charged out the door we entered either to flee or deal with the announced imperials.

I lept towards Rhys to help, but he had thrown Belgie to the ground with enough force that his head did a little bounce from the ground. He didn’t get back up. Rhys reached down and grabbed the sword Belgie had at his side.

We turned back to Kael to find him gone, the door he had entered through was now thrown ajar. Sprinting towards his escape route was going to be a race if we made it before the manic horde. I threw my whole body into the dash. I was keenly aware of my newly acquired sword that bounced wildly with every step. Still, I couldn’t slow down. I would much rather deal with one sword accident than the ten swords that were moving with purpose.

We were in luck, the robes seemed to be slowing down our pursuers and I looked back as I crossed the threshold to see Rhys fly in and slam the door behind him. He started working on the handle.

“There’s no lock!” he yelled to me. I stood unsure what to do for a moment. Kael was ahead, but there was a murderous mob to deal with. Rhys pushed himself against the door as it rattled in its frame, “Go! Get Kael, I’ll hold them back.”

I looked at Rhys for a pained moment as the door almost pushed in for a second as they pounded on it. Then I turned and sprinted off. Rhys made a call, I had to respect his decision if he thought he could hold it.

It was a long hallway and I could see Kael off in the distance. His mask was long gone in his wild rush. Still, I really appreciated his ostentatious choice of dress for his congregation. Just like the mob, his robes had obviously hampered his sprint away. I bellowed as I ran. Kael staggered as he turned to look at me. I was gaining on him in an even more obvious way now.

Kael stopped. In his hand he held a sword of his own. I slowed to a jog to close the distance.

“You don’t understand. They’re worthless, but they can be traded for such better lives!” His words at dinner now held a new vicious light.

I didn’t care. His reasons, his rationale, all of it was second to the violence he was cultivating, the people he was pushing towards the end of their lives. Even if they took the final plunge on their own, that didn’t make him less complicit, “It’s over, Kael, just stop and end this.”

He took a step towards me and then lunged. My blade connected, blocking his swing towards my neck. Fear flowed through me and then was washed over by adrenaline. There was an obvious end to this. A coin flip that even now spun through the air.

I lashed out, my sword being fended off at every turn. Kael was no slouch. Even with a billowing robe, he was fast. His counter attack was fierce and I struggled to keep my footing as he went low, then high. A feint into a low slash caught my leg and I howled. I saw a smirk on his face as I scrambled back.

I sneered back at him and saw his eyes flash down to my opposite hand. The knife was still clutched there, but it was small and useless in the duel.

Or maybe not useless. I threw it at him. It had no real hope of doing any damage, but it distracted him enough to give me a half second more with my next swing. His blade still moved to block, but by the time it touched mine, the other part of my blade was embedded halfway through his neck.

The body crumpled in front of me and forced the realization of everything that had happened. I had little experience in these matters, but I had little doubt the ramifications this would have. There would be heroes and villains in this retelling. My friend was risking his life to hold back a horde trusting me to do exactly what I had just done.

I ran back towards Rhys. The wound on my leg pulsated with every stride. There was muffled shouting ahead. I got to the door to see Rhys leaning against it straining to hear. The pounding and banging from the otherside had been exchanged for shouts and bellows.

Even through the door I began to understand the picture, the imperial troops were inside and demanding everyone stand down. I thought about what had just transpired.

“Rhys, trade swords with me,” I hissed at him.

“What why?” He asked as I was already pushing my sword into his hand and taking his.

“Because you just heroically defeated the Governor’s husband.”