food was good—better than what was served on most other days—and he wondered why Ansen didn't have Kora cooking every day. Perhaps the woman had work elsewhere or a family that needed tending to. It was unfortunate that he knew so little about these people.
He finished quickly and the warmth of the food filled him as he mounted the stairs to his room. A cool bath would certainly help him to forget the scent that seemed to trail him through the building.
As he reached for the latch to his door, he paused, narrowed his eyes, and tried to determine what precisely was wrong.
The latch was all the warning he needed, of course. It had been pulled to the other side of the wood and not returned, which meant the door was open. He hadn't opened it so someone else was in the room waiting for him.
Skharr took a deep breath and paused at the threshold. No lamps or candles burned inside and he needed to allow his vision to adjust for the darkness he would likely encounter when he entered.
By now, they would surely know he was outside. The stairs needed attention and creaked faintly with every step and the sound was multiplied when it came to a man of his size.
Without giving them too much warning, he barreled into the door with his shoulder. The hinges snapped and gave way as he rushed through it.
The heavy wood catapulted into a figure hidden behind it. Unable to stop himself in time, the warrior tripped over him and the man groaned in pain when the full weight of both barbarian and wood landed heavily on him.
Skharr reacted to the faint suggestion of movement to his side and rolled away. A glint of steel reflected some of the moonlight that filtered in through the windows. He rolled again, this time into the hallway that was thankfully bathed in the soft light of a handful of candles.
The two assassins followed him out. Both were dressed in light armor, and while the one who had been pinned under the door did look a little the worse for wear, he chose not to give the intruder the opportunity to recover.
"A little gentle exercise it is, then. Have at it, you mangy toad-fucking goblin spawn." He laughed and rolled his shoulders as both men advanced on him. Their daggers flicked forward, one aimed at his unarmored chest and the other at his gut.
He took a step back and swayed out of the sweep of their strikes. The one who stood to his left checked his motion, maintained his balance, and withdrew while his comrade stumbled forward. He’d put a little too much power into the thrust and couldn’t stop until his victim hammered his fist into his jaw.
The blow was delivered with sufficient force to make him stagger into a nearby wall. It shuddered on impact, and the barbarian grasped the man by the shoulder and twisted him sharply. He drove his opponent’s head into one of the nearby doors before he dragged him to the railing that allowed the folk upstairs to look down into the common room. Not many had noticed the sounds of fighting from above thanks to a group that had broken out in song on the ground floor.
A second later, the second man lunged forward to try to help his comrade—or perhaps to take advantage of Skharr's distraction. The attempt was futile. The barbarian jerked around and powered his elbow behind the man's ear with enough strength to launch him over the railing. The assassin plummeted to land on one of the tables that was being cleaned by the staff below.
Plates and mugs inevitably shattered, followed by shouts from the patrons who realized what had happened. He ignored them all and slid his arm around the other man's neck. He started to resist but the warrior simply squeezed tighter as he pulled him around.
Ansen approached the table and tilted his head to look at his large guest, who stood over what was undoubtedly his newest victim.
"Is there a problem, Skharr?" the innkeeper asked as he continued to struggle with one of the assassins.
"Uninvited godsbedammed troll-ass vermin in my room," he answered and thumped the second assassin's head on the railing.
"Well, send the other one down. We'll dispose of the both of them."
"Are you sure it won't be any trouble?"
"As long as you pay for the table, no."
He nodded, lifted the man, and hurled him over the railing to where, thankfully, his