6: Assassins From Shanaar - Part Thirteen
Brookhollow folk were gentle by nature, but when aroused they would stand up to anything. The commotion caught the attention of others in the village, and the innkeeper had raised the general alarm that spies were present. Soon more men were on the chase, and some had circled around to the north to enter the wood from the far side and meet the fleeing men in the middle.
Running hard, the short man said, “Curse your plan! Look at us, hunted like dogs. I say we stand and fight. Let’s give them a taste of our business and see if they have the stomach for it!”
The tall man responded witheringly, “Stand and fight? Fight two dozen men? We can’t handle that many, and more are probably on the way. It wouldn’t be so bad if we were killed in the process. Get a few back as we go down, I say, but we can’t take the chance. If we aren’t killed, we risk our mission being found out. Or at least raising an alarm through this whole region. Won’t Velákk be pleased when that happens.”
Huffing and puffing as he ran, the short man responded, “Capture us? Simple farmers don’t know about interrogation. They’ll fight us, is all. I say we show a little blood and see if they back down.”
“Maybe they don’t know about interrogation, but Velákk does, or have you forgotten? I’m telling you, word is going to get back to him that we raised the alarm. No matter what happens now, our life is worth nothing. Even if we accomplish our mission, he told us to keep it quiet. We’re worse than dead already.”