The soggy leaves had embedded themselves seamlessly into the muddy ground bringing an array of golds and reds from an initially bland surface. As Ethelston carefully placed one foot in front of the other, he knew the sound he was making would be difficult to hear from a distance.
Twisting around a corner, he prepared himself for the gleaming sharp blade to be pressed against his throat. As the cold steel laid onto his skin, he felt a shiver down his body. It had been a while since he had that tingling sensation.
The blade lowered quickly once the Duke of Ravenscourt had been identified. Aryya stood tall, surrounded by ten of her men, hidden behind some buildings not far from the Dancing Partridge Inn. The same inn where Ethelston had met Bianca and a couple of Black Knife Syndicate thugs.
Since his encounter, he had examined the place closely. It was renowned for its select clientele. Syndicate thugs and known associates. Jarendrud's investigation into the Syndicate had raised a not so surprising pattern. No attacks were reported near the Inn, and no Syndicate members had families around this location. The evidence suggested a hole in activity in and around the inn, which indicated that everything was coordinated from here.
Arminell had taken command of the city guard, dispersing riots throughout the city, it was now up to Ethelston to take control of whoever was in charge of the Syndicate and destroy any chance of an organised counter-attack.
As he approached, Aryya's smile broadened, her dark eyes gleamed, yet Ethelston was unsure if it was because of his arrival, or soon, her blood lust would be sated. "Just in time, two swords."
Ethelston chuckled at the pet name she had given him over the years. Aryya knew his name was Ethelston, and they had been through hell together several times, yet the same name she gave him in the Sea of Sorrows where they encountered the Manticore, was the same name she called him now.
"Report?" Ethelston asked as her head turned back around to the target ahead.
"Sentries, at least six. Very well hidden and can likely call upon soldiers from the tavern as soon as they spot us. Getting there quietly will be almost impossible." responded Aryya with a tinge of excitement in her voice.
"Almost?" replied Ethelston.
Aryya turned and smiled before giving the nod to a couple of her henchmen, instantly they turned around and slank away, quieter than Ethelston entered. "My men will take care of it, but we must be prepared to fight anyway."
Ethelston straightened his leather armour, before rubbing his beard enthusiastically. He watched as Aryya's men masterfully scaled up a couple of buildings like ants, before reaching for a dagger and jumping into the balcony. As their blades glistened briefly before being thrust down, it wasn't until they reappeared with a darkened substance on the edge that Ethelston knew they had reached their target.
Aryya remained still, watching cautiously for any sign of unexpected movement. As the two knife bearing mercenaries climbed from beyond the balcony, all eyes were on them as they moved silently and quickly towards their next targets.
"It worries me how good your men are!" Ethelston commented.
Without looking at the Duke, Aryya grinned widely. "These men are my reputation, and they know that failure is extremely costly. I take pride in us being the best mercenary outfit known to man, a pride that no one will dare put in jeopardy."
After a couple more minutes, a small metallic object reflected the sun's rays towards them. As the light hit Aryya in the face, she raised her hand and moved from behind their hiding place. Placing her recurve bow firmly within her hand, she prepared three arrows in the other and shuffled cautiously forward towards the tavern.
Her men followed without formation. Their chaos was evident, but their ferocity complimented it equally as their various exotic weapons were drawn and raring to be used.
Their disappointment equalled that ferocity as no opposition awaited them at the tavern. Positioning themselves around the outside of the building, Aryya's smile broadened knowing her men had performed admirably as expected.
"Have your men stand guard, " Ethelston instructed, "then follow me."
Reaching for his swords behind his back, the swish of metal against leather was quickly followed by the creaking of the tavern door as Ethelston entered. With Aryya raising her hand in a fist, her men stood ready as she followed closely behind.
"Bianca!" Ethelston called. Stepping carefully into the tavern.
Instantly all the patrons reached for their weapons and stood briskly to their feet. The scraping of chairs, the fumbling of weapons, the desperation to become prepared seemed to give Ethelston a small adrenaline rush, and goosebumps blossomed all over his body.
"I'm here for Bianca!" Ethelston called out, prompting the sizeable breasted tavern owner to step from behind her counter.
"Who'd have thought I would inadvertently pour a drink for the Duke of Ravenscourt. I remember you handsome; however, this time, I won't stop my men from gutting you." Bianca responded with a hint of frustration.
"Who would have thought that the Blade of the Black Knife Syndicate poured me a drink." a grin plastered itself begrudgingly on Ethelston's face, knowing that, initially, he had been so close to the woman that ordered so many horrific murders throughout Ravenscourt. If he had known then, it would have been ended decisively.
"So we're both surprised!" she responded with a hint of malice, "state your business before I order your death."
"I've come here to negotiate for your surrender."
There was a rumbustious roar of laughter that erupted from the patrons within the tavern, something which only seemed to make Ethelston, unnervingly, echo.
"You're vastly outnumbered, and the Syndicate does not negotiate. Since you're here, we can discuss the various ways I will kill you." Bianca responded.
Ethelston's laughter grew louder, which seemed to irritate Bianca and the patrons. "Oh you silly woman, you can only kill me once."
Aryya's chuckle grew with Ethelston's sarcasm.
Ethelston continued, "I'm standing here with the second-best archer I know, who could quickly kill three of your men before you give the order to attack."
Aryya's chuckle disappeared as her head cocked towards Ethelston, "What do you mean second best?"
"Yeah, sorry, uh, we'll talk later, " Ethelston apologised before turning towards Bianca once more, "Have your men throughout the city stand down, come peacefully with me and I promise there will be no executions or tortures. How about that for negotiations?"
Bianca's face scrunched up in anger, "You try my patience, Duke!"
"And you try my limited mercy, " Ethelston retorted, "look, how about we make this interesting. Your best man, against me, winner takes all!"
Bianca's mouth seemed to twist into a smile at Ethelston's arrogant offer, "when my man wins, Lord Millendahl will be placed back in his seat of power."
As Ethelston swang around to the exit, he nodded in agreement. "My uncle will return to his position on my defeat."
Aryya quickly placed her hand on his shoulder, "What are you doing? This is a massive risk!"
"And who can beat me?" Ethelston responded, his cocky smile plastered all over his face.
Frowning Aryya gripped his shoulder tighter, "what about the man at Harversbrook?"
"He cheated," Ethelston recalled.
"How can you cheat in a fight with no rules? And the man at Stervenhorse?"
Ethelston stopped and turned towards his compatriot, "That wasn't a man, that was a beast! A giant, in fact, gods, knows what he was! Look, I know what I'm doing, today the fight ends, one way or another."
***
At one side of the street, Aryya's men stood like wolves preparing for their prey, their hands held their weapons tightly, and all eyes were focused on their counterparts on the opposite side of the street. There was no doubt that they were itching for a fight, blood was about to be spilt, and whether it be either by their own hands or by Ethelston's, their thirst would be sated.
Bianca's men stood opposite like a ragtag bunch of ruffians, but they outnumbered Aryya's men two to one. If this had come down to war on the streets, there was no telling who would win on the narrow streets of Ravenscourt.
As Aryya unstrapped Ethelston's armour around his chest, the back of her hand carefully brushed the tense muscles that littered his physique. She had always enjoyed how toned his body was and how, when he sweated, his skin seemed to glow. She still found it amusing how his impressive statuesque body was generally hidden behind his choice of clothing.
Aryya knew that Ethelston's fame and glory came as a result of intense training as well as natural talent. It would take someone monstrous to fight him out.
And then his opponent appeared.
Even before the sea of Black Knife Syndicate partisans parted, the vast, chiselled frame of his opponent could be seen pushing his way through. He stood head and shoulders above all others, and his head seemed the size of a rock as it grinned at his vastly smaller opponent.
The sighed that escaped Aryya's lips were echoed by Ethelston's curse as he looked up towards the tower of a man who thumped his way into the centre of the temporary arena.
"Behold!" Bianca called "The Punisher!"
There was a thunderous cheer as the Syndicate's man raised his arms. The stamping of feet seemed to shake the ground in a way that Ethelston had never felt before. Despite the Syndicate being the enemy, he admired their zeal and their passion.
"Your woman?" asked Aryya, distracting Ethelston from his opponent, "what would she say at this foolhardy quest?"
A wide smile gleamed onto his face as the thoughts of Erdudvyl's voice filled his mind. It had been some time since they had last spoken, but he could hear the smooth and friendly tones that escaped her lips.
"She would first complain about how primitive humans are before moaning about the stupid risks I'm taking. She would then proceed to support me in a way that I've never experienced before." his voice sparked as he spoke of her.
Aryya chuckled before thumping Ethelston's chest, "She sounds like the type of woman you've always needed. Today though, you have me! Keeping moving, tire him out, then strike hard and true." she instructed.
Turning to his opponent, Ethelston raised his arms wide causing the Desert Vipers to roar in competition with their foes, and as he spun around to embrace the cheers, a fist hit him squarely in the jaw.
He staggered around like a drunk man, struggling to gain any foothold on the floor. The world around him spun, and the ground felt like it was turning into liquid. As he looked up to see Aryya, he realised that he had no idea where she was now standing.
The Punisher hit like a hammer.
Stumbling to the floor, Ethelston looked up to find the Punisher was already standing over him and placing his head between his arms. The grip became tighter, like an anaconda trapping its prey, causing Ethelston's breathing to become shallow and rugged.
It didn't take long for his vision to start blurring as he desperately clawed at the arms the size of tree stumps wrapped around his neck, and for the first time that he could remember, he felt something in himself he had never felt before. Remorse.
How could he be so stupid to risk all of Ravenscourt over one brawl? His decision did not affect just him, but everyone in his charge. Returning his uncle to the Dukedom would be a death warrant that so many didn't deserve. If he failed, it would not be just his reputation on the line, but his conscience; something until this moment he never thought existed.
Just before his vision turned black, he could feel a wave of anger rise inside of him. With all his might he twisted sideways and swang his arm violently backwards. As a connection to the Punisher's groin was established, Ethelston thrust his elbow up into his opponent's jaw, causing a nauseating cracking sound.
Wiggling away from the grip, he allowed his vision to return before wiping his mouth gradually. The back of his hand was red and sticky, the metallic taste of blood seemed to fill him with rage, and as he spat a large glob of blood infused phlegm to the ground, he looked up and smiled as his huge opponent was nursing his twisted and now deformed jaw.
Ethelston wasn't sure if his anger derived from the cheap hit the Punisher had inflicted on him or if it was his stupidity had endangered so much so quickly. It didn't matter why, because he was going to make sure this fight ended quickly.
Sprinting towards his opponent, he walloped him on his jaw before instantly inflicting multiple hits directly on the vulnerable part of his opponent's body. With each hit, the roars of the crowd died down, and as his opponent collapsed on the floor, Ethelston's unbridled rage caused him to continue hitting him violently.
It wasn't until Aryya, and some other Desert Vipers pulled him away from the huge, almost lifeless man that he realised what he was doing. Growling ferociously, he turned towards Bianca and pointed at her.
His face was plastered in his blood, but his hands were caked in the Punisher's.
"Submit, or you're next," Ethelston demanded.
Bianca had turned to her men, and while some were ready to fight, others were visibly demoralised by their champion's near-death experience and by how easily the renowned fighter known as the Manticore Hunter had obliterated him.
With the Desert Vipers ready to pounce, the Syndicate soldiers lowered their weapons on Bianca's instructions.
As the sound of metal clanging on the ground and his breathing rapidly heaving in excitement, Ethelston looked around at his defeated foe before turning towards the blood-soaked man laying on the floor struggling for every gasp of air.
Rarely did he let his rage take hold as it gave way to another part of Ethelston that was unpredictable and dangerous. He had won today, and he had defeated the Blade of the Black Knife Syndicate, but he could have as easily lost Ravenscourt and himself.
As a ruler of a Dukedom, he had to be more responsible for his actions; otherwise, he could end up losing more than he bargained for.