‘That kid got away,’ the ranger muttered softly, trying to hold in her anger. She looked around the basement, hoping to find clues, tracks, just something. Only to be met with barrels.

  ‘That one-armed, one-eyed bastard. Is he playing games? Does he think I do this for fun?’ The words shifted from rough to soft. She let her frustration spill out, rapidly firing arrows into the barrels. Once upstairs in the bar, she struck bottles off the rack with her bow. Her eyes remained emotionless the whole time, only her lip betraying that she could still feel anything at all.

  ’First holding the two down so the others could find him. Then they fail, of course they do. Thrirski wanders off, and Ranzulf doesn’t care; he only wants to find a worthy fight.’

  She kicked a chair, her breath heavy. ‘They sent the wrong person for this. We needed—’ Her voice caught. ’I needed …’

  She took a deep breath. ′Maybe... he can be resurrected as well.′

  Something slipped from her pocket during the outburst. A small piece of paper, fluttering. She picked it up. If she had any left a tear would come down. If she could feel sadness again, than this was it and she felt it. Deep within her body, she knew what was wrong and what was right.

  A drawing of her, younger. Eyes still bright. A smile she hadn’t worn in years. She turned the paper around. A message she had read hundreds of times, yet it still carried its weight: For my beloved, Kelvanya. How long before last she had seen her husband.

  She folded it carefully and tucked it deep into her cloak, exhaling slowly. She leaned against the bar. What purpose did anger have? There was still a mission that needed to be done. She thought about it. With that, Patriono’s words dawned on her.′Can everything still be brought back? What if… what if when everything returns, I can’t bring myself back?′

  She went behind the bar, trying to look for a bottle. ′Will he forgive me, after he knows what I’ve done?′ There was no drink, but there was something else she found. A small picture of Patriono and a girl, the same girl from the portrait.

  ′Is this something I can really reclaim, no matter what I do? Maybe Albaras is right. Maybe we’re doomed to wander forever. Maybe we must choose who we are, not wait to become who we were. What have I done…′ She grabbed her own portrait. ′My husband… will I ever look at you again? Or will I be cast into a place you don’t belong, after everything I’ve done?′

  She put the Patriono portrait away but kept staring at her own.

  Outside, the sound of metal ringing echoed, guards. She recognized the sound. Lightly armored, just the town militia. An older man stepped forward. ‘Only one chance.’ He said. ’Come with us. Face trial for the mutilation of Patriono. Face the punishment you gave him.’

  Kelvanya stepped outside. ‘I suppose… you’re right,’ she said, putting the portrait back where it came from.

  The captain approached, shackles in one hand, a sword pointed low but ready in the other. Kelvanya inhaled once, deep, steady. Then she extended her wrists forward, accepting the bit of alone time to clear her head. The thoughts have already begun: What will the others do? What will Hartmar do when I force him to act?

  As Kelvanya was escorted away. Stood a bagger up. A smile crept up. It is finally time. The pieces are all moving.Let’s see what you’ll do now, almighty Heiron, our lord, our so-called salvation. A whistle, soft like a lullaby, slipped out, and a horse crept from the darkness. Its silver hair on its brown body made it fit for a king’s horse. The beggar climbed onto it, even with only one arm to use, still gripping his cane. Boy, sorry to have used you. Haste needs to be made and action needs to be taken. You will set everything forth. That needs to be exploited for the better.

  Hartmar laughed to himself. I will be the first one over the finish line. Not Heiron, and certainly not the Red Smile.

  Rederick awaited Albaras’s return with information on Kian In the meantime, he was bandaging himself with the ribbons from his armor. With those ribbons, he made an eyepatch for his horse after pulling the arrow from its eye. It was lucky he had the shield ready; without it, those arrows would have hit vital spots instead of just muscle.

  Albaras came back, his purple cloth a clear beacon announcing his arrival. ‘Where is Kian?’ Rederick asked. ‘Did you get here without him?’ Rederick was about ready to get his sword. ’You—.’ Rederick wanted to continue. Albaras, however, had other plans than listening to Rederick’s thoughts spoken aloud. ’I wat.’ He dared Rederick. ’I know where he is. I want you to come with me to bring him back. And then you will return to the lodges with him. Take what is mine, for I will not be coming back. Ever.’

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Rederick couldn’t say anything about that. It was as if he was sincere with what he said. The way he talked to the ranger… did he really have a heart? How could he? His brutality was hard to forget after having it beaten into you. Rederick mounted his horse and another thought dawned on him. He hasn’t been the same since Dukedom. ’Albaras… are you alright?’ Albaras clutched his hands around the reins of his horse as it turned around. He turned his horse to lead the way. ’Nothing more you want to say, Ribbon Knight? Deserter of the Gurrund family? A man who tries to act noble with simple tricks? Or is this it show at the end some nicety to protect yourself.’

  Rederick began looking away. No, not this time. Not anymore. He had brought a child into a world full of horror. Now that the child was gone, he finally cared. What care had he ever given the boy? ′Albaras, don’t act high and mighty. You can kill me. I think you can kill anything in your path. But how is it that a monster is hired to kill monsters? An animal to hunt animals? What made you so special that you received whatever gift you have? Turning it now into a game. As if the world is just something you can play with. You laugh when you start killing. When you needed to kill a fellow hunter, you took it personally, did you enjoy what you did? That laugh made me want to wait. Only when you were down did I step in. That playful beast inside you… how can you enjoy such brutality?’

  Albaras started with a chuckle, which grew into laughter. That bounce. That sensation. ’You’re doing it again, you absolute—’ Before Rederick could say another word, Albaras turned toward him. ’A gift some call it. Others would call it a curse. But what difference does it make in the end.’

  Rederick wanted to say more, but what more could be said. That man is insane to stand in his belief. He thought he was deserving, but what had he done to deserve that… power, if you could even call it that?

  On a distant hill away from the village stood the orange-eyed man and the gigantic woman.They looked over at the village. ’Are we really going to stay up here until Hartmar rides out, Ranzolf?’ The woman made sure to get his attention by adding his name.

  Ranzolf turned his head, looking disappointed at the question. ’Tyrilda. What is with your impatience? Aren’t you eager for them to come out so we can fight them, capture the kid, and bring him to our lord for the rewards we’ve waited so long for?’ Tyrilda moved her foot shyly. ’But how long will that take? What if they travel the other way around? What if they want to claim the reward for themselves?’ Ranzolf smirked, almost flabbergasted that Tyrilda, for once, had a thought in her head that wasn’t about violence. If they could finish this… oh, what a party it would be, with all the members free to kill. The Red Smile, Tyrilda, Hartmar, maybe even Sventerlo or Frugin. How much fun that would be. For now, he lived in disappointment and pushed through the need. It doesn’t matter who takes the child to the lord. Or why not hasten things and use the village as the battlefield? Why not? Ranzolf started laughing at the thought. This can finally not be disappointing. This could be fun. ’You’re absolutely right, Tyrilda. They want to take the kid for themselves. Why not use the village as our battlefield?’ Ranzolf said with a hint of glee. The civilians who stood in the way would just be a bonus. The town’s guard will try to stop us. We’ll have just a few appetizers before the main dish.

  Tyrilda’s smile went almost as wide as her face. ’Finally. A good battle.’ She said excitedly. ’But what about the civilians? Wouldn’t they get caught?’ She tilted her head a little.

  Ranzolf only gave a small, disgusting smile, his orange eyes almost glowing with excitement as he mounted his horse. ’We will have to believe that they are wise enough to stay inside while we battle.’ Ranzolf said. Tyrilda started thinking about what would happen. She didn’t reach an answer, however, before giving up and just thinking about the fight, shrugging the thought off. She also mounted up, her horse almost twice the size of a normal one, built so it would not succumb under Tyrilda’s weight. Just as they were ready to move into town, a beast stood beside them. A creature that looked like a bear and a cheetah in one. Its head and legs had the shape of a cheetah but with the thickness of a bear, while its body was the other way around. It looked like a shaved bear with a cheetah’s skin, making it seem almost like an athlete wearing only minimal armor on vital spots to stay as flexible as possible. Most of its armor was chainmail for this reason, so it could bend with the body. Having a special made staff with a moonblade axe at both ends to cut off people heads with just a stab.‘What are you two up to? Shouldn’t we all wait for the others?’

  Ranzolf took the lead, hoping Tyrilda wouldn’t let anything slip about the fun that would soon commence. ’Grummulde, we are just going to check on Hartmar and how he is handling the boy.’ Grummulde growled as if in thought. ’I will keep watching here and inform the others if they arrive. The lord made it quite clear what would happen. Do not ruin it.’ Grummulde made sure they felt the threat. They might be stronger than him, but they don’t hide their tricks well. Ranzolf and Tyrilda made their way towards the village. Tyrilda laughed as they went. With Ranzolf put his arms in the air as if praying. ’Let it begin!’

  Grummulde stood leaning against his double-moon-shaped axe staff. He sniffed the air. ‘Blood will flow.’ As he said it, a smile spread across his face. ‘What a perfect duo to stir up the crowd.’ He closed his eyes and let his nose do the work, sensing what was about to happen.