"I have come from Jacintha," Pagonel answered. "My road is west."
"He's got Ru blood in him," said one of the men who had finished with the dead merchant.
"Yeah, he's got the stink of Ru all about him," agreed a second, and all three moved to join their companion, who was holding the stolen silk. Two even fanned out a bit, somewhat hemming the mystic.
"You know what we do to Ru in Behren, eh? " remarked one of the bloody knife-wielders, and he brandished his blade threateningly.
Pagonel kept a proper amount of attention on the blustering man, but he noticed the arrival of his three companions, then, wandering into the oasis area down the eastern road. They nodded and bowed to every soldier they passed, trying to be diplomatic, even submissive, but in truth doing nothing more than drawing attention to themselves.
They made their way quickly past the various groups of soldiers, walking swiftly, but then Paroud noticed Pagonel, the soldiers moving in closer, and he stopped short, all three gawking in the mystic's direction.
"I desire no trouble, friends," Pagonel said quietly. "I have come from the southland, following rumors of turmoil. My masters wish to help, if they may, in healing Behren's wounds."
"Wounds?" asked the soldier with the silk. He looked to his friends and they all laughed. "All that is wounded are the coffers of the imposter Chezru! They have been torn asunder, their gems and jewels spilling out."
"Spilling out to our waiting hands!" another added.
"You march to Jacintha?" Pagonel asked.
"You ask too many questions," one of the men retorted. "Who is your master?"
"Yes, tell us where we must send your headless body," another added.
The two men who had fanned out to each side moved in closer then, brandishing their knives dangerously close to the seemingly unarmed mystic.
Pagonel glanced to the side, to see another group of soldiers closing fast on his three traveling companions. Those three noticed it as well.
Paroud broke left, screaming as he ran back toward the east. He would have been captured almost immediately, and likely gutted, but then Moripi-cus pointed at Pagonel, and shouted, "Jhesta Tu!"
Every soldier in the area froze in place, and all eyes turned toward Pagonel.
The mystic felt the soldiers at his sides move in a bit closer, felt them tense up, as if preparing to strike.
He moved first, snapping his hands up suddenly, smashing the back of his fists into their faces. The man directly before him struck out hard with his knife, a slash aimed for Pagonel's face.
But the mystic was far below the strike as the blade cut past, having dropped into a sudden low crouch.
Pagonel punched across with his right hand, smashing the inside of the soldier's right knee and buckling his leg out. A quick reversal had Pagonel's elbow smashing the inside of the man's left knee, similarly widening his stance, and then the mystic brought his hand back to center and turned his arm to the vertical and delivered the coup de grace by punching straight up between the stunned man's widespread legs.
He lifted the soldier right off the ground with the weight of the blow, and given its location, all fight went out of the soldier. The man sucked in his breath, clutched at his groin, and slowly tumbled down to the side.
Pagonel wasn't watching, though. As soon as he delivered the crippling blow, the mystic brought his hand back in close and leaped a sideways somersault to the right, landing lightly on his feet in perfect balance and coming up suddenly and ferociously before the knife-wielding soldier.
He led with his forearm as he rose, pushing aside the man's feeble attempt to stab at him, then driving his arm across the man's face, knocking him backward.
As Pagonel retracted, the soldier was still stumbling, his head still up from the blow, offering a fine opening at his throat.
Pagonel's stiffened left hand took that opening, though the mystic held back enough so that he did not actually kill the man.
The soldier gasped and fell away and Pagonel swung back the other way to meet the charge of the third.
More to dodge it than to meet it, actually, for the mystic fell suddenly again, spinning as he dropped and swinging one foot out wide to trip up the advancing soldier.
Up came Pagonel as the man flailed and stumbled in a turning descent. The mystic's fists hit him, left, right, left, on the chest as he went down, and Pagonel leaped away.