“Name?” The sword that pointed at him was finer than Otto’s, and larger too. The edges still bore the bloodstains left by the dead James. The wretch’s body had lain on the ground for a long time, and his head had been used as a toy for the dogs. Later, they gave them the body as well. They ate what they could, and the rest was thrown into the sea.

  “Yon.”

  “What did you do to end up in prison, Yon?” Rex spoke calmly, much like Ben, though he looked far more menacing.

  “They killed my wife and child, and I killed their murderer.” Yon was honest.

  “I would’ve done the same. You didn’t deserve prison.”

  “They didn’t see the bodies of those he killed. They only saw his and didn’t believe me.”

  “And where were their bodies?”

  Did he have to relive it all again? The memory flashed before his eyes, the moment when he threw the first shovelful of dirt onto his wife’s chest. He had placed Bryon in her lap so they could depart together. Only at the end did he cover their faces. It was fortunate that it rained to mask his tears. But still, the tears came. His only witness was the dead Bast.

  “All right, you don’t have to answer. Losing a child is bad enough.” Rex seemed understanding. Yon didn’t expect him to remember any of this later. “But that doesn’t save you. I can’t know if you’re lying to me or not.” Rex gnawed on a bone like a dog, only he had hands. Every time he spoke, he lifted his head toward Yon. “What did you do before prison, Yon?”

  “I was a woodcutter when hired; if not, I tended the gardens—mine and the village’s. I dug, plowed...”

  “Uh-huh. And why do you think they wanted to kill you? You’re just a peasant.”

  He knew the reason, but he wasn’t going to tell Rex. That would be as good as signing his own death sentence.

  “I think it was by chance. But I got my revenge.”

  “I’d have done the same.” Rex pointed at him with the gnawed bone. He tried to act kindly, though it didn’t suit him at all.

  “Do you still harbor hatred, Yon?”

  “Not for the killer. But for the one who ordered it, yes.”

  “And who do you think that was?”

  He believed it was the king or someone close to him. But he didn’t say that. Fiona and Bryon weren’t their target, of that he was sure. But they suffered. And they least deserved it.

  “Let me deal with that when the time comes, Commander.”

  Yon lowered his head, hoping he hadn’t angered him.

  “Don’t call me ‘sir.’” Rex changed his tone and stood up. “I’m your commander, not a lord or sir.”

  Someone shouted behind him, another responded, and the sounds of weapons clashing followed, then laughter.

  “I’ll test your fighting skills soon enough. But let’s continue. You?”

  “Renald Voris, sir. I betrayed the king.”

  “I like it when people are direct. Which king? The old one or the new one?”

  “The new one, sir.”

  “Strange. Usually, that gets your head chopped off, not sent to Thorn.” Rex still appeared calm. The stone he sat on seemed comfortable and made him slightly taller than them, something that would otherwise be difficult. “What did you do, Renald?”

  Renald hesitated. Yon prayed he would choose his words wisely. He had seen what Bast did to that James. His blood was still at their feet.

  “I didn’t recognize Garrick’s authority.”

  “Bold.” Rex still didn’t seem angry. “Bold to admit it. And now? Would you serve him?”

  “Am I serving him? If so, take my head right here.” The old man, Renald, lowered his head.

  “Stand up, soldier.” Rex shouted. “You’re not serving him, but he’s on our side. If I hear this while any of his men are nearby, I won’t just take your head. I’ll make you regret ever opening your filthy mouth.” Rex softened his tone again. “What were you before?”

  “A knight in the Blacktor guard.”

  “I see.” Rex smiled again and sat back on the large stone. “Yes, it makes sense. You were a loyal dog to King Roland, and after his son took the throne, you got angry. Well, Roland is also in Thorn. He’s influenced you somehow.”

  “I haven’t seen the king there, Commander.”

  “He’s not a king. Say it. Who is the king, Renald?”

  “Garrick, Commander.” Renald said it so smoothly and lightly, as if he had just renounced all his previous words.

  “Good. You’re a quick learner. Garrick is king, and we are his friends. Make sure those are always your answers. As for what you think, you can keep that to yourself.”

  “You!” Rex pointed to the next. The remaining four, Yon didn’t know well.

  “Edgar. Edgar Flint.”

  “Flint, huh? I knew a Flint, but he wasn’t related to you. You’re ugly.”

  Edgar remained silent.

  “Speak, Edgar. Why are you in Thorn?”

  “I had more than one wife.”

  Bast’s laughter was expected.

  “You’re ugly, Edgar. Don’t lie to me.”

  “It’s true. Their lord caught me.”

  “So, the lord had two wives, and you took them?”

  “No, he had two sisters. Those were the two sisters.”

  “And what were you that made two sisters like you?”

  “The lord’s stableman.”

  This time even Renald laughed.

  “Quite funny, huh, Renald?” Rex looked at him.

  Renald realized and stopped.

  “Next?”

  “Taryn, Commander. Taryn Black.”

  “Black? Are you related to…?”

  “As far as I know, no. But my surname is common. Especially around these parts.”

  “I understand. But the Black lineage originates from the king, from his ancestors. Who knows where some cousin of the kings spread his seed in the past? I digress.” Rex pulled out another chicken wing from his pocket, blew on it, and continued, “So, why were you in Thorn, Taryn?”

  “They accused me of counterfeiting coins. The black ones.”

  “And was it true?”

  Taryn raised his head and answered, “Yes.”

  “How convincing were they?”

  “I got to the point where I had the most land around Blacktor and was speaking for the hand of the daughter of one of the king’s brothers.”

  “I remember that,” Renald interjected, “The treasurer exposed you.”

  Taryn turned to Renald, surprised.

  “Actually, yes. The treasurer caught me. And they took everything. At least they left me alive.”

  “I heard about that too, but I thought it was just stories. Interesting. So, you’ve seen what it’s like to be rich.” Rex threw the last of his gnawed chicken wings at their feet and stood up, already drawing his sword. “But can you fight, Taryn? Or do you use your hands only for deceit?”

  “When I was a lord, I had men to fight for me. I mostly roamed the forests in the eastern part and hunted. If shooting with a crossbow and bow counts as fighting, then yes. I can fight.”

  “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve scoundrels like you. You?” He pointed to the fifth and continued without waiting. “Ah, a woman. I love women, but not seeing them fight. Your name?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Sara, Commander.”

  She had black hair, not very long, but tied in a small ponytail. She looked tall, though not as tall as him. As he studied her, she continued, “My brother and I were supposed to kill a knight. Well, we failed.”

  “Who is your brother?”

  Sara turned and pointed to the floating, dismembered body in the water.

  “James, Commander. The one you killed a little while ago.”

  Rex swallowed. Surprise flashed across his face, but he quickly composed himself.

  “You must hate me, don’t you? Well, what’s done is done.”

  “It’s pure luck we weren’t killed when we were caught. Then it was pure luck we survived Thorn. Maybe we were meant to die.”

  “Wise words. But you’re alive. That’s what matters.”

  Yon tried to see her face. It was stone-cold. He wouldn’t have lasted in her place.

  “What weapons are you good with, dear?” Rex suddenly spoke kindly.

  “I’ve handled a sword, but I’m quicker with daggers. I rarely shot with a bow, but James was better with it. I also liked fighting with a yatagan, but it’s a bit heavy for me. The axe is also heavy for me.”

  Rex whistled.

  “Wow. You’re quite the catch, unlike the previous four. If what you’re saying is true, I might have found a diamond.” Then he seemed to remember her brother and looked at the sea. “Well, I’m sorry about him. He must have been as good as you. Now I’d rather kill this one—” He pointed to Edgar. “He seems the most useless. But what’s done is done.”

  Rex gestured to Sara, and she stepped back. Everyone else stood still. Only the last one, the sixth, stepped forward. Rex had called him himself. He had light blond hair that fell around his face and pale mustaches.

  “Kelvin Finn, Commander,” he quickly introduced himself.

  “What were you in Thorn for, Kelvin?”

  “I was a trader in the eastern part. Born in Solis and traveled between cities.”

  “And?”

  “Honestly?”

  “I want you to be more honest than ever.”

  “I organized a group that would attack other traders at night, take their most valuable goods, and then I would sell them.”

  “And eventually, you stole from the wrong person.”

  “Yes, from a trader of King Ajax.”

  “Ajax? The name sounds familiar.”

  “A fat, short king. Once a great warrior, but the last time I saw him, he was lying on whores all day, eating.”

  “And apparently, he had traders.”

  “Yes. It turned out that his people were doing the same thing I had decided to do. But word got out about me, not about him.” The blond man gestured a lot as he spoke. “And he killed all my people and sent me to Thorn. Supposedly for a short while, but it’s been two years now.”

  “You survived there for two years?”

  “I don’t draw much attention.”

  “Have you ever been in these lands, Kelvin?”

  “No. It’s my first time. I’d only heard that it’s not like other places here.”

  “Not like the others in a good or bad way?”

  “In a bad way, Commander. They said there were thefts, murders, and no tolerance for anyone. And Ajax often talked about Black of Blacktor. When he came to the traders, he scared everyone by saying he’d send them here to have their things chopped off.”

  Rex laughed as expected.

  “Well, he’s right about the murders. But we only kill those who deserve it. Just as he did with your people.”

  “Can you fight, Kelvin?”

  “No. I shot a crossbow once and learned quickly. At the end of the evening, I robbed all the boys. We were aiming at a tied-up pig. The one who hit it lost. The boys killed it quickly. But then the Solis guards found out we had a crossbow and took it from us.”

  “And the pig?”

  “The pig?”

  “Did you eat it, or did the guards take it?”

  “How is that important?”

  Rex waved his hand and laughed. He raised his hand, and two boys, young and clean-shaven, rushed over as if they had been waiting for the signal for a long time.

  Rex’s boys laid out two cloths on the ground and spread them out. Yon saw at least three swords, one crossbow, many daggers scattered across the cloths, a mace, an ax, and a bow. All neatly wrapped and secured with another small, sturdy piece of fabric sewn onto the large cloth.

  “There’s one bow and one crossbow,” Rex pointed out. “You’ll have to work it out. Seems like some of you favor the crossbow. Well, one of you will take the bow. But first,” Rex stepped in front of them and blocked their path. “I’ll see what each of you can do. And that won’t happen with a bow. So each of you pick something for men.” He winked at Sara after his last words. She probably didn’t notice.

  Yon chose the sword. So did Renald. In the older warrior’s hand, the weapon looked like it truly belonged. As he examined and swung it, it seemed to have found its rightful place.

  But not for Yon. It was only the third time in his life that he held a sword, and the weapon felt a bit heavy. He pretended to be able to hold it steadily.

  Taryn, the former lord, also chose a sword. He justified it by saying he had fought demonstratively a few times.

  Sara picked two daggers, and Kelvin did the same.

  “And you?” Rex looked at Edgar.

  “I can manage without.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Grab some steel, or you’ll see it up close.”

  Rex’s tone had grown harsher.

  Edgar bent down and took a small dagger. It looked more like a bread knife than a weapon for killing.

  Rex saw it but didn’t object. Instead, he called him directly.

  “You and you!”

  One of the chosen was Edgar.

  Yon looked around to make sure the next was indeed him. But there was no mistake. Rex was now pointing at him.

  “Face each other.”

  Yon quickly took his place. He tightened his grip on the sword’s hilt. His wrist already burned. He could lift it a few times, but his arm would surely tire after that.

  He knew Edgar from Thorn. His cell was near his, and they had exchanged a few words when going in or out. But they weren’t exactly friends.

  Edgar looked at him with malice. There was no sympathy in his eyes. And that wasn’t the goal, but it seemed Yon was the only one who didn’t understand that. Edgar held the short blade as if reluctantly. He was looking more at Yon.

  “Well, fight, you dogs,” Rex urged. “Just don’t kill each other. As weak as you are, you’re all I’ve got. I doubt Ben will give me men for a new group.”

  Yon stayed in place. He wanted to see something in Edgar’s eyes—some sign of what he was about to do. They had to make it look convincing, avoid injury, and please Rex. The latter would likely be difficult.

  But there was nothing. Edgar moved toward him. Yon assumed a stance that looked combative in his mind, but it clearly didn’t to the others. He heard the quiet laughter of someone in the group but couldn’t tell who it was.

  Edgar swung once, then again, and when Yon easily deflected the small dagger in his hands, Edgar seemed to grow frustrated. He threw the blade away, rolled up his sleeves, and lunged at Yon’s legs.

  They must have looked ridiculous from the side, or at least he did.

  He dropped his sword. Even if he had held onto it, there was nothing he could do now. Not only had he lost his sword, but he was already on the ground. Edgar turned on top of him and landed the first blow to his face.

  Yon thought to tell him to stop but realized how pathetic that would make him look.

  As Edgar pummeled him, his image seemed to change. It wasn’t Edgar beating him anymore; it was Bast. Bast, alive again. The man who killed Fiona and Bryon. But now he was looking at him with his crushed skull. How does one survive something like that?

  Another blow. There was no more pain. Only anger.

  Edgar was short and stocky, but Yon was bigger. He used that to roll them over. It happened easily.

  Someone muttered something from the side, but neither of them heard it.

  Whether it was Bast or Edgar didn’t matter anymore. Yon was the one delivering the blows now. Punch after punch after punch.

  But Bast’s face didn’t change.

  “You died quicker last time, dog,” Yon shouted.

  He turned and saw a rock. Not as large as the one he used to kill Fiona and Bryon’s murderer, but it would work.

  He lifted it over his head and heard someone shout.

  Then everything went black.

  He dreamed of them.

  Fiona thanked him, and Bryon called him “Daddy.” He was almost sure those were his first words. He had been late to speak, but now he was. How sweet it was to hear him say it.

  Fiona was pleading with him. Begging him not to leave. But he had no intention of going anywhere. He wanted to stay there with them.

  “Yon,” he heard his name. But it didn’t sound like Fiona.

  Someone stood beside him, calling out.

  “Yon?”

  The second time startled him, and he woke up.

  They were gone. For the umpteenth time, they vanished as soon as he opened his eyes. Not that he wasn’t used to it.

  “Pale Eyes. That’s what we called him there.”

  Renald stood over him, like a giant. And the damn Sun was shining past his ear, as if it had found a way into Yon’s head.

  Yon turned his gaze. Edgar was still there. There wasn’t a scratch on his face.

  “What happened?”

  “You passed out again. How many times has that happened now?”

  Yon didn’t answer. His head hurt sharply.

  “Are you sick?” Rex called down to him. “I always get the weak ones.”

  “A wanderer in Thorn said he doesn’t have enough blood. And his eyes often turned pale. We saw that too, which is why we called him Pale Eyes. But he’s a good lad.”

  “Edgar?” Yon was starting to regain his senses.

  “Edgar gave you a good beating. You rolled him over but then passed out. Very, very bad.” Rex wasn’t pleased. Yon understood that. “I’ll figure out what to do with you. But you’re not a unique fighter, and you faint. Right now, you’re only good as bait for some predator at night.”

  “Next! The woman and the old man.”

  The woman was Sara, the sister of the deceased James, and the old man was what Rex called Renald. Perhaps rightly so.

  This would be interesting. Yon still sat on the ground. His head hurt enough to keep him down. Someone tossed him a flask of water, but he was more hungry than thirsty. It didn’t seem like they’d be eating anytime soon.

  And it was Sara who struck first. She was far quicker than Renald and wasn’t shy about using that to her advantage. Renald, on the other hand, showed that he wasn’t wielding a sword for the first time and gracefully dodged each of her attacks. It was as if speed and thought were clashing. So far, neither was winning.

  It was also interesting to see how Renald didn’t tire despite Sara’s relentless efforts. And from the sidelines, it was a pleasure to watch Sara fight. She was truly skilled. The two daggers had become extensions of her hands, and every moment she knew where to strike to give Renald trouble. But Renald didn’t hold back either. He even smiled. He smiled as he fought her.

  Their duel would likely have lasted a long time, but Rex managed to stop them.

  “Better, better. There’s some hope. Especially after the first two. That’s enough.”

  Sara didn’t look pleased. She stopped fighting but glared as if she had been fighting for her life’s meaning.

  As the third pair began, and the two archers, Taryn and Kelvin, prepared to measure their skill, Renald approached Yon.

  “That girl is a fury. She fought very well, but I’m not ready to be thrown away yet.”

  Yon didn’t answer him. Renald sat next to him.

  “Are the fainting spells still happening?”

  “They’ve never stopped my whole life. But now they’re starting to get in the way. While I was beating Edgar, I imagined he was the one who killed Fiona and Bryon.” Yon didn’t know why he was sharing this.

  “You didn’t beat him, Yon. You turned him over and passed out.”

  Yon looked at him for a moment. He wasn’t surprised. His mind had often played tricks on him. And often what it showed him later turned out to be something else entirely.

  And always, in those moments, he saw Fiona and Bryon. At least that made it worth it.

  The two archers in front of them were holding swords. They, like Yon, seemed never to have wielded such weapons or at least found it difficult. But the former Lord Taryn held himself with grace. He had one hand behind his back, his right foot extended forward, and with a slightly bent posture, he moved slowly in all directions when attacking and back when defending. And he did the latter much more easily. Kelvin, on the other hand, reminded him of himself. The sword barely stayed in his hand, and he frequently glanced at the bow lying on the cloth. When for the fourth or fifth time, Taryn managed to disarm him, Kelvin crouched low, grabbed the crossbow, quickly loaded it, and fired.

  He wasn’t aiming at Taryn. That was clear to everyone. Everyone except Taryn, who shouted, ducked, and charged toward him. But he stopped at Rex’s shout.

  “The bastard hit.”

  Something thudded behind them. Everyone turned to look.

  Rex was the first to reach it, bend down, and pick up the arrow. He lifted it like a hunting trophy and smiled broadly. He was pleased.

  And on the arrow, there wasn’t just one bird. Two swallows, side by side, were pierced as if someone had skewered them on purpose and was about to cook them for lunch.

  “Didn’t you say you’d only fired a crossbow once? And at a pig?”

  “Once, but I was accurate. That’s why my boys lost.”

  Rex laughed again. He whistled, and two dogs, medium in size, both black, quickly approached. Rex threw the arrow to the ground, and each dog took a bird.

  “Maybe some of you will be of use to me after all.” Rex moved away from the dogs. “But for others, I’ll have to think long and hard.”

  He was looking at him.