“Spirits take me, you’re ugly,” said the soldier with a jeering laugh.
Ethan turned in his seat and looked up at the guard. The foul stench of the man’s breath combined with his body odor caused him to grimace.
“Where are you two coming from?” he demanded.
“Santfaliso,” Markus replied.
“What was your business there?”
“Guarding a fat merchant’s cargo.”
The soldier regarded Ethan and snorted. “This one doesn’t look like he’d make much of a guard.”
“He’s my son,” Markus explained. “And he’s tougher than he looks.”
“Your son is he? We’ll see about that. Show me your papers.”
Ethan fought to keep his hand from shaking as he reached inside his pocket and held up the papers his friend had provided. Markus handed over his also.
The soldier ran his eyes over them. “Says here you’re from Ralmaria.”
Markus nodded.
“A long way to go just to guard a merchant’s wares.”
Before Markus could respond, the door burst open and a third soldier hurried inside. He handed over a folded parchment, then whispered into his comrade’s ear.
“I think you two should come with me,” the first soldier told them sharply. His hand slipped to the hilt of his sword.
Markus gave Ethan an almost imperceptible nod. “Of course. Whatever you say.”
As both he and Markus rose from their seats, Ethan’s eyes located a gap beneath the first soldier’s armpit where the breastplate of his armor was connected to the back. Here, a thin shirt was all that protected him.
Markus rounded the table and the two other soldiers moved toward him. “Now!” he shouted.
Reacting instantly, Ethan drew his blade and plunged it deep into the first soldier’s ribs. He could feel the steel scraping across bone as it sunk in. By now, in a blaze of movement, Markus had already whipped out his own dagger and slashed it across the exposed throat of his nearest opponent. The remaining soldier’s eyes shot wide as he fumbled frantically to draw his sword. But panic was making him far too clumsy and slow. Pausing only to flash the man a sinister grin, Markus jammed the dagger up through the bottom of his chin and into his brain. He was dead even before he crumbled to the floor.
Ethan jerked his dagger free from the first soldier, then shoved him onto the table with all his strength. Blood was pouring from the gaping wound in his side. His face was contorted with pain and fear. But there was also a pleading expression in his eyes that made Ethan pause for a split second.
The glint of steel was a blur as Markus came in and finished the man off.
“You can’t hesitate,” he scolded, pointing to the soldier’s outstretched arm. In his hand was a knife ready to plunge into Ethan’s back.
Ethan stared, unable to speak. It was a lesson he’d had drummed into him during Airborne training, and one he should never have forgotten. But though he had killed before, he had never done it this way. Up until now his battles had always been at a distance. This was so…personal.
The screaming and shouting from the other customers around them snapped him back into the moment. People were racing from the tavern and into the streets. In seconds they were alone.
Markus unbuckled a scabbard from one of the dead soldiers and tossed it to Ethan. “Put this on,” he ordered. It was small – only twice the length of a dagger – yet solid and heavy.
While Ethan did as instructed, Markus picked up the paper the first soldier had been given and read it carefully. A deep frown formed on his face. “It would seem word has spread faster than I imagined. We need to find Jonas and Kat and get the hell out of here.”
Having completed the attachment, Ethan drew the sword from its scabbard. It felt awkward and ill-balanced in his hand.
“Just swing it hard,” instructed Markus. “If we get out of this, I’ll teach you how to use it properly.”
At that moment Ethan was dearly missing his M-1 carbine. Hell, a .45 would do.
Markus approached the door and pushed it open just wide enough to peer out. He spat a curse.
“Three more are headed this way,” he said grimly. “And this time they’ll be ready for us.”
“So what do we do?”
Markus gave a pessimistic chuckle. “We fight. What else can we do?” He crouched down against the wall next to the door and gestured for Ethan to do the same on the other side. “We’ll take them as they come in.