a moment he’d avoided torture. Oh well. At least it was something he was good at.
All it took was ten minutes. He left Tobias holding his intestines in his hands.
“You’re right, Thren may kill you,” Torgar said as he mounted his horse. “But you really should have talked.”
He rode back to the main street and then hurried east, the clomp of his horse’s feet on the dirt a soothing pattern. The directions were simple, the safehouse plain and poorly guarded. From what Tobias had told him, Thren didn’t have any men to spare on his glorious night. Torgar snorted. Well, he’d play his part in tarnishing that old bastard’s glory. So far the smoke seemed focused on Connington’s. Hopefully his own master’s place had survived intact.
The house appeared the same as any other, with a small door in the front center, no windows, and a slanted roof of wood and clay. Torgar rode a few more houses down, dismounted, and then tied his horse’s reins to the handle of a door. The mercenary captain drew his sword, kissed the blade, and ran. He slammed into the door at full speed, throwing his shoulder into it. The wood cracked and splintered.
“Shit!” Torgar heard a man shout from within. Knowing he had little time, he flung his weight against it again. The door burst open, revealing two men of the Spider Guild standing with their daggers drawn. Madelyn lay slumped in the corner, unmoving. Another woman lay beside her. Torgar desperately hoped neither were dead. He had no intention of falling on his sword, but by the gods, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days fleeing from Laurie Keenan, either.
“Come on, then!” Torgar roared, swinging his sword in a wildly exaggerated arc. “Let’s have a fight, eh?”
One of the Spiders fell for the bait, lunging inward when Torgar should have been vulnerable. Instead a meaty fist crushed his face, his movement anticipated. When he collapsed, the longsword pierced through his shoulder and tore free, severing bone and spilling his blood across the floor. The remaining man glanced at Madelyn, clearing thinking to use her as a hostage. Torgar never gave him the time. He rushed the thief, not at all afraid of his small dagger. He had range, skill, and sheer brute strength.
Accepting a stab to the shoulder, Torgar returned the favor. His sword punched through the Spider’s chest and out his back, pinning him to the wall. The mercenary captain grabbed the man’s head with his hands, headbutted him, and then twisted violently. When he yanked his sword free, the man fell to the ground dead.
“Gyah,” Torgar said, yanking the dagger out of his shoulder and examining it. The side was serrated, and sure enough, he’d felt it. “Mean little prick,” he said, tossing the dagger back atop the body. Taking in a deep breath, he turned and lifted Madelyn’s body.
She was breathing.
“Must be my lucky night,” Torgar said. He stole a long kiss from Madelyn, then exited the home. He untied his reins, slung Madelyn over his shoulders, and then mounted his horse. Sighing, he dismounted and retrieved the other unconscious lady. She looked highborn, so he figured Laurie could puzzle out who she was. No matter what, Torgar felt confident he was ruining Thren’s plans, and that alone made it worthwhile. The stranger on his shoulder, and Madelyn curled in his lap like a child, Torgar snapped the reins and rode back toward Keenan’s wagons, hoping to catch up before they gained too much distance between them and Veldaren.
“Happy fucking Kensgold, Thren,” Torgar said as he rode out the city gates and into the night air.
“Hope you had as much fun tonight as I have.”
29
Thren had seen the smoke rising as he and Kayla returned from watching the Kensgold to ensure its disbandment. By the time they reached the city, there was no questioning its source. The Connington estate was on fire.
“What would have made the damn fools start so early?” Thren wondered, his voice carrying a hard edge. “Leon isn’t anywhere near the city!”
“Perhaps they encountered more resistance than we did at Maynard’s?” Kayla asked.
Thren shook his head.
“Whatever the reason, we need to hurry to the Gemcroft estate. If Connington’s is already burning, there’s little we can do there. Damn it! I had such wonderful plans to make him pay for Will’s death. At the very least, I need Maynard to die tonight.”
They ran side by side, both panting from the exertion. When he reached