Disclaimer --- While I do wish that I had a hand in writing up the Tortallan universe, we all know that the ever-fabulous Tamora Pierce was its sole creator. So yeah, I don't own these characters. At all.

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Chapter 5
Attack

"I may have found the armory," Thom pointed out.

The two stumbled into a room filled with assorted weapons and shields. Instead of chiding Thom for declaring the obvious, the former Rogue stepped in and rummaged through a pile. He clucked his teeth in disapproval of the state that the room was in. "Weapons should never just be thrown aside like this. Disgraceful."

The demi-god followed George into the room, sidestepping all of the swords and shields. His interest was more glued towards the pendants hanging in disarray to the side. Thom plucked an ornate gold chain with a lone diamond in the middle. "At least the jeweler had some taste. But most of these pendants don't really have much protective magic in them."

Just then, the diamond gleamed in his hand. Thom dropped it in surprise, but picked it up afterwards. "I might be wrong."

"It happens from time to time, Thom," George replied, examining a set of daggers. After testing their edges, he reinforced himself with more daggers to his shirt and pants. Now if he could only find a decent sword from all the rubble...

There's a nice sharp blade underneath that shield of a wolf, a voice suggested to him. George quickly stood up and drew a dagger. Behind him, Thom turned, alarmed. "Is someone else in here?"

George and Thom heard meowing afterwards and looked down. Below them, a black cat was licking its paw. Really, no need to be so jumpy, do I look like I can leave mortal wounds on you?

The baron of Pirate's Swoop scowled. "You can't be—"

"It's you!" Thom was awed. He knelt down and scooped the cat up, careful not to cause it so much discomfort. It gave a small hiss of disapproval anyway, but finally settled on Thom's shoulder. Yes, clearly.

"You were immortal all along, huh?" George asked, realizing.

The black cat watched George, its purple eyes uncannily like the ones whose shoulder he was sitting on. Before it answered, however, it yawned and bade Thom to transfer him to the thief. Thom chuckled and complied.

You two have been creating a ruckus in here, The Cat replied, I was taking a nap.

"In an armory?" Thom smirked.

It didn't used to be an armory, he shot back. Baron, stop looking at me as if all cats can be raised from the dead. If you are that surprised that I was an immortal, then I overestimated your Sight.

George scratched its ear and the feline purred. "Well you gave me the fright, little one. It's not every day I get to see you walkin' around, after Alanna'd told me you lost your life to that Copper Isles princess."

The Cat stretched itself on the baron's shoulder, yawning again. We can catch up later, but for now, I've decided to tag along.

"Don't trust us to get things done correctly, Cat?" Thom asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm mortal, but I'm not that incompetent."

Don't get cocky, sorcerer.

Thom sighed. "And what are we calling you this time?"

Purple feline eyes turned to George. Alanna's husband grabbed the cat from his shoulder and placed him back on the ground. "I don't mind callin' you Faithful again, you know. For old time's sake."

The newly re-dubbed Faithful mewed with approval. Works just fine. Faithful pranced back towards where he was sitting before George and Thom found him. As I was saying, there's a nice sword underneath that shield. Are you going to pick it up or not?

George grinned and lifted an old scabbard. It tingled of the Gift somewhat, which left a bit of his hand numb. "This isn't for me, Faithful."

The cat beckoned George to put the sword beside him. Placing his paw on the sword, Faithful muttered a few words at it. Thom watched him with curiosity. When the magic was done, Alanna's old pet pushed the sword towards George again.

"What did you do to it?" Thom asked.

Nothing. I just told it to settle down.

The sword didn't feel uncomfortable the second time George lifted it. Satisfied that there was no strange magic trying to get out, he slid the sword in its scabbard and attached it to his side. "Mayhap now we won't be so easily ambushed later."

"You folk and your weapons," Thom made a face, "Give me a book or a scroll any day." After a slight pause to look over the room, he brushed the dust from his robe and stepped out of the armory, only to find himself staring straight at a large, wooden crossbow pointed towards him. "Oh."

"It would be best if you didn't move, Fire-Hair," the man with the weapon said, "Or it's one clean shot through your skull."

The former Rogue, hidden inside the room, quietly made his way besides Thom, just behind the steel door. He steadied his new sword beside him and bided his time. Thom felt a small tug on his sleeve and touched the hilt of a dagger being thrusted towards him. The sorcerer refrained from showing any emotion and closed his hand around the weapon. He gave his assailant a stony glare. "I suppose you find this fulfilling, ambushing an unarmed man?"

Thom's attacker chuckled. "Unarmed? The only people unarmed these days are hand-fighters or sorcerers. And seeing as you're just a little too brittle to be kickin' and punchin', I'm gonna guess sorcerer."

"Then you know I can easily set your crossbow on fire," Thom replied steadily. "If I were you, I'd put the bow down and I might be more lenient."

"You? Lenient? You can't expect to best me!"

"On the contrary, I can burn you down to the ground in your prime," Thom told him, smiling maliciously.

The man cursed the sorcerer, pulled on the bow and fired. Thom had closed his eyes and began to mutter under his breath, but was interrupted when he heard the arrow make contact with steel. Before he could see what had deflected the arrow, Thom was quickly reeled back by the quick pull from his friend, who had guessed when the man would strike. George growled orders to stay down at Alanna's brother, unsheathed two daggers, and headed towards the stranger.

It was a quick battle. The attacker had lost his temper after Thom's small declaration and was not nearly fast enough to fend off George's blows. George had not intended on killing the man, but he had fired at Thom to kill, and the baron of Pirate's Swoop was not forgiving when his wife's life was indirectly on the line. Oh, no, this one was not staying up for long.

Purple fire burst forth from behind George, hitting his opponent square in the chest. This force pushed the man from underneath the former Rogue, and Thom's attacker was slammed towards a wall, unmoving. George turned to Thom, who was paler than normal. He stood up, lightly panting. "You didn't let me kill him."

"No," Thom stood up.

"Why?"

"We don't want to incur a god's wrath because you killed his Chosen," the sorcerer argued. "And besides, I could have handled him."

George snorted. "That you could. But you forget you're mortal, and you're connected to Alanna. I'd rather you not do much more reckless things."

The baron approached the unconscious attacker. Satisfied that the stranger had no other hidden object besides his now-discarded bow, he picked up the weapon in question and unceremoniously threw it into the armory room. Faithful softly padded out, whining at the noise the former thief was making. George chuckled. "Was the fightin' boring you that you took another nap in there?"

I'm just a cat, Faithful responded haughtily. You and the sorcerer clearly didn't need any help.

"I told you I was competent," Thom muttered. He nudged the unconscious body with his foot. "What do we do with this guy?"

George looked around. To the right of the armory was a slightly open door, bags of grain sticking out from a table inside. The baron grinned. George bent down to grab the unconscious man by his feet and dragged him over to the storage room. After dumping him inside, he closed the door. "Thom, think you can lock this?"

The sorcerer chuckled. "I wondered why I liked you. Dishonorable as ever, I see."

"I'm improvisin'," George replied blandly. "Besides, he'll have more than enough to survive if all of us are stuck here for days on end."

Once Thom muttered the closing incantation, he nodded. "We should move along. At least that's one Chosen down. A handful more to go!"

"With luck, we'll encounter and render all of them unconscious," George suggested. He picked Faithful up and put him over his shoulder. "It's odd, Faithful. You're here and the voice inside my head disappears. You and Kyprioth aren't at odds with each other, are you?"

Cats and birds don't usually mix, Faithful purred. Though the Trickster is otherwise occupied.

The baron laughed.