King of the Seditious

Lord Danbury, the man that had been raiding the Princess of Nightway’s realm to feed MidGale City, and inconveniencing The Nauvree in the process, looked up at the man who hadn’t blinked during the interchange.

Savage sat quietly watching them. Not reacting, though clearly close enough to hear.

He was young. Blonde hair twisted into braids near his face with wood beads strung in them.

Kill beads. Each engraved with a kill he was proud of.

He wore a sleeveless black leather tunic with gold embroidering down the center and black hide pants tucked into dusty boots. As Danbury looked at him, he leaned his head back, making the beads click together, as he peered haughtily down at Danbury.

“What do you want?” Danbury called.

Seeing they’d drive no further, he dropped from the tree and landed smoothly in the road. Step half feral as he strode to the carriage with a smirk.

“Are you trying to get killed, Boy?”

“Oh, I’m no Boy.” He stepped before Danbury with a grin.

And I don’t appreciate being called one.

Barker, his primary attendant, sucked in a whoosh of air behind Danbury and lunged to the far side of the carriage.

Good. He knows me.

“What?” Danbury tossed him a skeptical look.

“That’s the King of Assassins!”

“Who?”

“The King of the Assassins.”

“Oh?” Danbury ran a hand through black hair, tousling it. “Have you come to kill me, Boy?”

Why would I do that when you can proceed to bundle up and hand over goods as often as you traverse this country. That’d be foolish.

“Not right yet.” Savage slapped the window ledge of the carriage door. When he did there was a flood from the trees. Men in light armor, carrying weapons and shouting like wild beasts rampaged toward Danbury’s carriages. Dirtied, scarred men. Men who looked unstable.

“Who are they?” Danbury snarled, eying the mass surging from the trees.

My men.

“They’re my assassins. They’ve come to help you on your travel.”

“Help me?” Danbury looked at him. “Are you escorting us into MidGale?” He asked in confusion. “Did King Ocnomad send you?”

Far from.

“No.” Savage flashed that vibrant grin again. “Quite the opposite actually. But we are going to lighten your load.”

Already the assassins yanked bags from the tops of the vehicles. Tossing laden burlap sacks down lines of men to vanish into the trees. A well-coordinated operation.

“Stop your seditious men!”

“Seditious?” Savage laughed coldly. “From what I hear, he leaned in the window. Invading Danbury’s personal space. “You’re the one that’s seditious.” He clucked in his cheek. “Betraying a queen and her daughter to steal these goods.”

Danbury looked at him askance. “If such a thing were true, how would you know?”

“I know everything that happens in these lands.” Savage leaned over to give three solid smacks to Danbury’s cheek. Reddening it.

Danbury blinked at him in shock. Mouth agape. “Who are you?”

“Savage Jack.” He stepped back to dip in a mocking bow. “At your disservice, My Lord.” He gave a cheeky grin. Blue eyes flashing in the afternoon light. “It’s nice to collaborate, isn’t it? Appreciate you rounding up all this to feed my men.” He nodded.

“You’re going to pay!”

It’s never happened yet.

“If you should go crying to anyone about this here little ‘lightening’ we did to your carriages…I’d be obliged to assist you further in future…On…Every…one…of your trips home.”

I’m going to anyway. Tell who you wish.

But I will kill you.

Danbury huffed in his carriage helpless to do anything. Trembling so hard his chair shook. Hands fisting.

Swing at me.

Savage quirked a brow but when the man had nothing further to say, Savage lifted his chin and puckered in a mocking kiss. “Safe travels.”

“Bastard!” Danbury shrieked from inside the carriage.

Amongst other things, yes. Savage rotated on his heel and strode down the dirt road inspecting his nails and whistling cheerfully as his men vanished into the trees with all the Nightway goods and a portion of Danbury’s personal property.

Winters Haven, Blue Lark Guild in Dread HIdeout

“It’s been a busy night.” Adrea commented. Wiping the counter with a rag. “You’ve been back here all night. Your feet and back have to be aching.” She nodded toward Dimurah.

“It means good coin to exchange for ale, wine and meat to keep us going.” Dimurah responded. Sliding a gruff looking man, a brimming tankard.

“Joe’s well into his cups again.” Adrea tossed her dark head toward him leaning against the wall near the counter.

Joe was Dimurah’s hired man. He was young. Barely older than her. A brawny lad that carried in casks of ale and dealt with issues arising in the alehouse.

Adrea was right. He was clearly intoxicated. His steps an awkward stumble.

“I don’t appreciate when he does that.”

“I know.” Adrea was tight lipped. “He’s coming back here for another refill.”

Joe was. He slapped the corner of the counter in rapid concession. Sliding around it. “Dimurah! Joe wants ’nother dram.” He held his cup aloft with a toothy grin.

“You’ve had quite enough.” She pushed his shoulder to move him from her path.

“Dimurah! I work fer me coin and I want a drink tonight!”

“Joe, you’re supposed to be helping clean up later.” She tossed over her shoulder as she squeezed around him. “You’re already not in much state for it. How bouts you start drinking some water?”

“Dimurah!” He grabbed her upper arm. “How’s bout ye serve me like ye do these others!” He pleaded humorously.

“These others aren’t supposed to be working for me tonight!” She jerked her arm loose and rounded the counter in the direction of a table she served.

“But Dimurah,” He objected. Laughingly, swatting her rear. “I far more fun than they be!”

There were a few gasps and a hush fell through Winter’s Haven.

“What’ve you done, Joe?” Adrea whispered fearfully.

Dimurah grimaced but continued serving as though nothing had happened. Peering from under lowered lids.

“Don’t worry, Dimurah.” Joe whispered. “He didn’t see. He’s not here.” He gestured. “He’s out in the Trader’s Market.”

“Fool!” Another man said. “He knows everything that happens here!”

“Joe!” Belline stared at him wide-eyed. Voice disbelieving.

“Drinks!” Dimurah lifted her tankard and five men at the counter echoed her cheer. Lifting theirs in return.

Dimurah and Belline were soon answering raucous cheers for more guzzling.

The fearful moment forgotten.

“Joe!” His bark cut the evening air like a knife. Bringing everyone to a stop.

Where is he?

Joe froze where he stood. Staring at the wooden floor.

There you are.

He thinks if he doesn’t move, I won’t spot him. Savage noted boredly. Having seen it many times before.

“Savage Jack.” Dimurah greeted. Rounding the counter to greet him.

Don’t bother.

“Do not.” He lifted a staying finger.

“Savage Jack…” She persisted. Weaving through the others to reach him. Putting a hand to his chest. “Savage Jack. Please…” She leaned into him, trying to break his gaze, but his focus was over her head. Fixated on the man near the counter. “Don’t.” She pleaded.

But Savage’s gaze had locked on his target.