These Old Bones

20-2

In the space of seconds, the dozen raiders had reduced to two. The city guards and Garuth had proven themselves capable and they had a small victory to their names. The last two raiders broke off and attempted to run, only for one to receive an arrow to the back and the other to find the point of Notch bursting through his chest.

"Good work. Don't get sloppy." Brorzjav looked at the injured raiders upon the ground, writhing in their own blood, clutching their guts back into their bodies, clinging to the remains of their arm, or gurgling in silent rage. He pointed at them with Notch. "Finish these off. No prisoners. Garuth, with me."

Leaving the guards to put the injured raiders out of their misery, Brorzjav led Garuth to the leader of the raiders. He had managed to stand and rip the arrow from his shoulder, but he stumbled and tripped as he attempted to move away to the south. Brorzjav reached him and kicked a leg out from under him, causing the leader to crash to the ground, landing on his injured shoulder with a howl.

Brorzjav knelt beside him and turned him onto his back. The man's face had elaborate markings painted on his face, giving him a look of a black skull upon gaunt, pink flesh. Brorzjav grabbed the man's jaw, squeezing, and turned the leader's head from side-to-side, examining the face paint.

"This ... this is wrong." The leader grunted, trying to twist his head from Brorzjav's grip. Brorzjav threw the man's head back to the ground. "You weren't supposed to fight."

"Why weren't we supposed to fight?" Brorzjav tugged at his beard braid. He'd need to get that re-tied, he thought.

"It was agreed!" The leader tried to shuffle backwards as the other guards caught up with Brorzjav and Garuth.

"Agreed by who? Not me. I didn't agree to anything." Brorzjav allowed the man to push himself up against a nearby wall of a building.

"By our bosses. Your boss and mine. We get the plunder and passage through the city." The leader grimaced, clutching at his shoulder, then let his hand drop to the side.

"Which boss? I don't have a boss. Do you mean his boss?" He used the point of Notch to indicate Garuth, stood beside him. The other guards formed a circle about them. "What's the name of this boss in the city?"

With a flash, the raider leader's hand pulled out a knife from behind him and aimed it at his own throat. Brorzjav's hand moved as fast. Faster, even surprising Brorzjav himself. He caught the blade with his off-hand and held the knife less than an inch from the pulsing vein in the leader's neck. Brorzjav would be stronger, even if the leader were not injured. He pulled the blade back, turned it and plunged it into the leader's shoulder, adding another hole to the one made by the arrow. The leader roared in pain as Brorzjav pulled out the knife, tossing it aside.

"The name of this boss?" Brorzjav didn't raise his voice. The leader glared at the old man, closing his mouth tight. Brorzjav pressed his thumb into the arrow wound, digging into the shoulder and the leader screamed. "The name!"

"Antanuth! Arbiter Antanuth!" The leader fought for breath, rasping and coughing.

"Know him?" Brorzjav stood, turning to Garuth.

"Yes. I ... he's one of the seven arbiters. They run the city for the Prince. Why?" Garuth allowed his anger to flood out of him. Betrayed, the young soldier now understood fury. He bent and grabbed the leader by his leather breast plate, shaking him. "You're lying! Why would Antanuth agree to this? Why?"

"I think you're best asking this Antanuth himself." Brorzjav pulled Garuth away from the raider leader. He nodded at the other guards as he held Garuth at bay. "Tie that bastard up. Tight!"