Torlan slept comfortably, the Arler down bedding conforming to his broad shoulders. The room at the inn in Larwein had not been light on his pouch - but it wasn't like he would get much comfort in the near future.
After setting his father free, he had held a fake funeral for him. He'd also held a tearful real one for the fallen comrades in arms they had lost against Ithral, and worse, against their own people. Burning their bodies had been hard on him and his soldiers but he was hoping that their sacrifice would lead to peace more readily than had they fallen at the Breach.
Torlan could not wait to share all these secrets with the people in his command. Responsibility would have to be taken and they would lose a lot of trust in him, but he felt he owed them an explanation.
Chalise had been quiet the past few days and he was hoping to never hear from her again. Obviously, he knew she was his direct superior and would be in contact sooner rather than later.
He startled awake when he heard a noise next to him, a creaking floorboard.
In the dark, filling his vision, sat a muscular, human shape. Torlan instantly recognized the headhunter. She had pulled the small stool to the foot of his bed and placed Moon Cleaver on the covers. The blade reached from beyond his toes to his chest.
"Ye better keep your mouth shut, bruiser", she said quietly, "If ye wanna live. I ain't here for ye. Tell me ye know where them midgets went. Yer little theatre with the flyin' cow might've fooled yer lot, but I know what it looks like when one of them bucks and runs wild. Killed more than a few of their riders, after all. Panics them somethin' fierce."
He sat up slowly, all too aware of the oddly dim steel near his stomach. "I am not sure what you mean", he said, cold sweat covering his hands.
"Then lemme make this clear as can be", she leaned in, whispering neutrally, "If you don't give me somethin' to go on, I will off ye. Then I will chop up them tied up lovers downstairs. Then I'll start goin' door to door until not a single soul's left in this hole. Ye killed my only reason for livin', y'all gotta pay for that somehow."
"There are a great many soldiers in this `hole`. You will not get far."
He shifted to get away from her, the covers slipping lower on his body. With cold terror he realized that Moon Cleaver was dripping. Drops of a cold, dark liquid hit his naked abdomen.
"Are there? Ye've a good few more bodies to burn, I reckon.", she sat back, giving her blade a motherly look, "I've kept'er keen. Ith had the strength for the crush. I need the cut. How proper she looks, fitted all blue."
He was dead either way. In his mind, there was no question about it. If he stayed silent, this woman would make good on her threat. Could he weigh three lives against the four oct souls of Larwein? Three lives that might mean thousands saved down the line on both sides of a major war? Would she even keep her word?
"Time's wastin'", she said, impatiently.
"Even if I could tell you what you want to know, I cannot trust you to leave Larwein untouched if I give you the information you seek. You must see how this is not a winnable choice for me."
"Oh, no. Ye can trust me to leave this stain on a map as quick as my legs will go. They've go' a two-day head start and I won't've no patience to sit 'n slice up town if ye tell me where they went. But, also trust me to know the lay o' the land. If I don't find'em where you say they are, I'll be back here in no time at all."
Helmond's son swallowed heavily, his mouth dry. The people of Larwein had done nothing wrong. They were as far removed from the fighting and intrigue as could be. They had cooperated. They had children, even newborns. Just today, he'd eaten dinner with a family who had invited him to stay. Could he kill his people to preserve a human, a quasi-traitor and a dragon? If the people here were soldiers, he would not have qualms. But this…?
Moon Cleaver moved in the dark, now grazing his neck. He became acutely aware of the sensation of having a body. No amount of training could have prepared him for this. "What'll it be, boy?"
A few moments later, Kel Ortis stepped out of the inn and took in the village's main square. The two templarii of the night watch were draped decoratively in its center, their white uniforms taking on a sickly shade of indigo. "Bloody amateurs", Kel thought. She had struck them down without them even having a chance to pause their idle conversation. Auxilia was tough work if they met you head on, but cattle for the slaughter once they relaxed. They were an army made for honorable combat, not for dirty work.
Dragging warm indigo across her fur clad back, she sheathed Moon Cleaver. With a glint of appreciation in her eye, she exited the village, turning north east, toward the mountains.