In Soboií


The Dog grinned menacingly. ‘We’ll fight our way out or be captured, simple.’

‘Then we’ll miss our boat to the north.’

‘Angus-Molt isn’t the only one sailing north. Now come with me so we can some sleep this night. But first we’ll have to kill those thugs from the inn following us.’

They turned into a dimly lit alley that was strewn with garbage, drew their swords and waited.

The four that had followed them into the inn entered the alley with weapons drawn, ready to fight. The dim light was just enough to make out one anothers shape and the chances of being overheard in the ruckus of Soboií were extremely small.

‘Keep one of them alive,’ the Dog growled softly. ‘We might learn something.’

The debris and poor visibility made their footing very unsure so neither party could rush the other. They both carefully moved towards each other, ready to strike out.

The Dog had drawn his normal blade, Mintor noticed, and understood that the alley didn’t leave him enough room to swing the deadly battle iron hanging on his back.

Quite suddenly Mintor jumped forward stabbing one of his opponents straight through the throat. Blood gushed out as the man went down to his knees, gurgling.

Immedeiately the fight was joined. Blades clashed and flashed, grunts and curses could be heard as men tried to find sure footing and balance among the debris.

Slipping on something wet, the Dog received a cut in his arm, but that left an opening in his opponents defense for his blade to inspect some guts.

Mintor was bleeding from a cut in his brow, but his adversary was staggering and bleeding from multiple wounds.

With a swift and completely unexpected move Mintor sliced his blade through the man’s neck, the head fell sideways and blood geysered from the body as it toppled over.

The Dog faced the sole member of the thugs who was slowly retreating. In the blink of an eye one of te long double barreled pistols was in his free hand. Both hammers cracked as they were cocked.

‘Who sent you after us. Tell and you may live.’

‘Kah-Ahm, the wolfman. We were to bring you to him alive.’



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