6: Assassins From Shanaar - Part Twelve
The two travelers stood up, and the tall man spoke to the crowd as they put their cloaks back on. “We've no quarrel with you good people. Evidently drink has caused some to mistake accents, and in the morning we’ll all laugh at this. But for now my brother and I will travel on. It seems no one here knows of our distant family, so we’ll find someone who does. Good night to you all.”
They walked to the front door and out into the night. They hadn’t made it far down the street, though, when the door reopened and a crowd of men stepped out to follow. Seeing that the travelers were going on foot, and not on horseback, confirmed what the innkeeper had said. There were few present who were qualified to confirm the story of the accents, but Feld’s word was good enough for them. The two assassins looked behind them nervously and spoke hurriedly to each other as they quickly walked toward the edge of town.
“Couldn’t you disguise your voice better?” asked the tall spy.
“Me? You did most of the talking in there and look at the good it did us,” responded the short man with a hiss.
“Never mind, that crowd is growing. Quick, let’s cut through this forest.” The two men left the path and slipped into the thicket of trees that lined the road. Seeing this, the crowd of townspeople began running after them and entered the trees shortly behind. At this the assassins gave up any pretenses and began to flee through the trees. There were too many to stand and fight, so flight was their only option. It was no use, however, for the townsfolk knew the woods far better than the strangers did and so they made better time.