The Innkeeper

Chapter 5

Two men entered the kitchen, one with a club and the other with a sword. All Samuel had was his knife. Still, the swordsman looked at his companion in doubt. Probably expecting him to be the way Striker had left him, he thought. Well, he may be caught by surprise but he wouldn't go down easily. With the events of the night before he had been half-expecting to be targeted as a witness in whatever they had against the Ranger.

He held his knife in front of him and went on offense. "What do you want?"

This brought his attackers to their senses and they tried to surround him. He noted how they were careful not to inflict any killing wounds, and in fact barely fought back, as if waiting him out. They wanted him alive but weren't good enough fighters to trust themselves with their weapons. He could use this to his advantage since he wasn't trained in hand-to-hand combat.

He lashed out with the knife, alternating between the two men until he managed to land a deep thrust into the swordsman's arm, causing blood to gush out the wound. The man dropped his sword and cried out in anguish, trying to stop the flow.

The other attacker used this distraction to grab Samuel and pinned his arms behind his back.

"Where be the maps?" a voice hissed in his ear. He was getting tired of being in this position and having a horrible accent threaten him.

"What maps?" Samuel asked. His arms were twisted uncomfortably. "I don't know what you're talking about. I know nothing of any maps."

"Ye know what I means. The maps. The dang Ranger had 'em. So where they be?"

"I told you, I don't know," Samuel said. It was useless to tell him this, it was obvious the man thought he was lying. He wasn't sure what else to say, though. 

The swordsman ripped the sleeve off of Samuel's shirt and used it to tie around his arm as a makeshift bandage. He finished with the help of his partner in crime, then let out a hollow laugh. "Yer cozy with 'im. You's in it together. Ye know where 'e hides 'em."

So much for washing his shirt back to a pristine condition. Samuel sighed. "No, I don't. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Aye, ye do. I bet ye just as cozy with 'im as 'e was wi' yer wife. Seen 'im a lot, she 'ad," said the man holding him tight. His voice was smug in Samuel's ear.

The over-the-top country accent was grating on Samuel's nerves and he tried to break away. His strength was failing him, though, as it never really returned to full strength from the herbs. Then the word registered and rage filled his blood enough to let him keep struggling for dominance over these men.

Striker knew about the misgivings he had concerning the interactions between his wife and the Ranger. Striker knew he had an adverse reaction to the herbal mixture. It was him who had warned him of what could happen in this moment of weakness. The blacksmith must have given him away, being in league with the bandits. How could his best friend betray him like this? 

His body failed him even with the rage coursing through his veins. He was simply too weak to fight back. He went limp in defeat. He would have to find another way.

The sound of a horse galloping and then stopping outside carried through the walls. His attackers glanced at each other in alarm. They began pulling Samuel out the back door, effectively becoming his kidnappers. He just didn't have the energy to fight anymore. Even his spark to survive all men carried with them to war was dying. He said goodbye to his inn as he was dragged along, trying to at least slow them down by planting his heels in the floor as best he could.

The Ranger slipped through the door they were headed for their exit and blocked their escape. His eyes flicked over the situation taking it in. He raised his bow, arrow nocked as he immediately sensed the danger.