The mud had mostly dried up, but now that it was nearing midnight a lot of it was replaced with animal dung and nightsoil. Being a small town, Tophton had neither cobblestone roads, nor workers to clean the streets. Ulfnar had mostly gotten used to the foul odor that was ever-present in the town. Teorton had its own set of smells that he had grown to not notice.

  ‘What are we doing here?’ Lina asked. ‘Why don’t we just run?’

  They had been over this a hundred times already. Lina thought it would be safe enough for them to just leave. Ulfnar didn’t agree. Lady Larella’s assassins were still out there, and the fact that they hadn’t struck yet meant that Tylenna’s group offered him at least some protection against that.

  “We already had this conversation,” he said. “It’s not safe out there.”

  ‘You just like Lady Tylenna. Admit it. You’re in love with her!’

  He wasn’t in love with her. She was just a warm body when he needed one. And she was interesting besides. He was more curious at how things were going to turn out. That was why they hadn’t left yet.

  Well, that and the idea that assassins were out to get him for not killing her.

  ‘Fine. Don’t admit it.’

  He ignored her comment. Lina was just jealous of the attention Tylenna was getting from him. It didn’t make sense. She had wholeheartedly accepted Lina for who she was. She even talked to the doll knowing that Lina wouldn’t answer her directly.

  Ulfnar was in a love triangle between a woman and a doll.

  He made his way into a tavern known as the Gull’s Wing. He had become a regular here. It was exactly the type of tavern he liked. It was noisy, rowdy, and there were plenty of people who were willing to part with their hard-earned coin.

  Even this late in the night, it was still full. He was early for the meeting, so he found a spot at the bar top and ordered an ale. One of the best parts of the town of Tophton was that their primary export was beer. Over a dozen breweries dotted the landscape. Most of their product made its way to the large taverns and alehouses of Tambryne City, but there was always enough left over for the residents here.

  And unlike the ales at Brigadoon’s Arms back in Teorton, the ale here was good. He didn’t know if it was because of the water, the quality of the ingredients, or the skills of the brewmasters. Honestly, he didn’t care. He was just glad.

  A drunk guy with a tattoo of a barrel and a crate on his arm hopped on the stool next to Ulfnar. He was already drunk. His hands were roughly calloused, and his darkly tanned skin bore the wrinkles and damage of someone whose career had them working outside most days.

  “D’ya know how hard it is on my back these days?” he asked. Ulfnar had no idea what the guy was talking about. But he saw nothing unusual about a drunk guy chatting with another patron by starting in the middle of the conversation.

  “How hard what is?”

  ‘Don’t talk to him.’ Lina warned.

  The drunk guy looked at Ulfnar strangely. He reached his hand over his mouth and belched loudly into it before wafting its scent into his nose. He grinned, showing a mouthful of missing teeth.

  “Carr’ing the load. I’m about broken now. What am I going to do for work once my back lets out?”

  Ulfnar shook his head. He had no idea what the drunk was talking about, but he thought it best to not antagonize the man by asking what the hell he was talking about.

  “It’s a sorry state we get put in, these days,” Ulfnar answered.

  “’Tis ‘ndeed.”

  “Hey! Falraff!” a voice shouted. From behind him another patron grabbed both Ulfnar and the drunk by the shoulders and leaned forward to put his head between them. Like the man already at the bar, this one stunk and was much too deep in his cups. “Who’s yer friend?”

  The drunk man who Ulfnar assumed was Falraff started swaying. He grabbed hard onto the bar to stop himself from toppling onto the floor.

  “Th’s is…” Falraff trailed off. “Dunno.”

  The second drunk laughed loudly. “We’ll call him Bulbous on ‘count of his nose!”

  “Yeah! Th’s is Bu’bus!”

  Ulfnar realized he needed to get away from these two. It was almost time for the meeting, and he couldn’t let these two men stop him from getting to the back rooms.

  “Making strange friends again heavyfoot?” A voice called out. Ulfnar turned to see the massive Arden had arrived with Lady Tylenna. She had a sour look on her face. She was clearly displeased with him. But why? Ulfnar hadn’t done anything!

  “Sorry, fellas, but I gotta go,” Ulfnar said, trying to stand.

  The standing drunk with his arm around Ulfnar shoved him back into the stool. “Y’can’t go just yet, Bulb’s. You haven’t bought your round of drunks yet.”

  Before Ulfnar could react, Arden had grabbed the drunk by his breeches and pulled him forcefully away. The drunk stumbled backwards a few steps but managed to catch his balance before he fell.

  “Hey!” he slurred before raising his fists, ready to fight.

  “Sorry, friend, but I need this one,” Arden said before reaching into Ulfnar’s purse and pulling out two gold coins. “But my friend here has agreed to keep you in your cups until these run out!” He dropped the two coins on the bar top.

  The two drunks cheered as Arden pulled Ulfnar out of the stool, half dragging him through the bar and into the back room. It was dirty and smelled like days old smoke. A pair of cooks were standing over a roaring fire stirring a large pot. They barely gave either of them a look.

  “Just wait until we build that bridge in Graslan!” one of the drunks shouted as Arden dragged Ulfnar away. He was very confused at what had just happened. Graslan was a city in eastern Tambryne, but why would a drunk in Tophton care about that?

  “What was that, Arden?” Ulfnar asked, annoyed that he took the coins from his purse. “Who were those guys?”

  “Porter guilders,” Tylenna answered. “Just be glad we got you away from them before they got all riled up and realized you were a noble. Your face is too pretty to get scuffed up with a broken nose.”

  “I’ll have you know that I’m good in a brawl!” Ulfnar retorted. He didn’t want to admit that he was extremely happy to hear Tylenna call him pretty. He’d been called pretty many times but hearing it from her made his heart sing.

  ‘Told you you’re in love with her!’ Lina said. He was not!

  He knew about the Porter’s Guild from his lessons in the palace. They were an organized group of workers who hauled cargo across land. They frequently had interactions with the Captain’s Guild—the organization who ran sea vessels all over Laryndor.

  The Porter’s Guild and the Captain's Guild had an uneasy partnership. The Captain’s Guild wanted to write the Porters out as much as possible to increase their profits, while the Porters had the opposite motive in mind.

  Tylenna led them through the kitchen and into an unused storage room. In the back corner, she pulled a latch that Ulfnar couldn’t see and a door sprung open. Without waiting for the door to complete its motion, she ushered him and Arden inside.

  The secret passage on the other side of the door smelled like wet earth and mildew. It took them down a flight of stairs that ended in an earthen basement. It was dimly lit with a few candles. Almost a dozen men were inside seated on barrels and crates.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He only recognized four of them. Three were regular visitors to the apartments they had taken in the city: Harnfist and Furis, who were among the men who rescued him, and a serving girl named Finona who worked at the tavern. The biggest surprise was the presence of Baron Shendalle. He was one of the few nobles who had agreed to join their cause. He held lands in the south of Tambryne near Cape Bryne.

  When they met with him, he said he was willing to donate funds to their cause but wanted to keep a low profile. Coming to Tophton to participate in a secret meeting gave Ulfnar the impression that the baron’s participation in this rebellion was going to be increasing beyond financing.

  The Baron was an extremely tall and thin man. He wore his clothes baggy so as not to appear as gaunt as he was. It made Ulfnar wonder if he was wasting away under his fine clothes.

  “You’re late,” he said.

  Tylenna shrugged. “Apologies, baron. We had a little trouble with the Porter’s Guild upstairs.”

  The baron shook his head and turned to Finona. “I told you those Porter’s Guilders were going to be a problem. We might have to do something about them.” He ran a thumb across his neck, indicating exactly what he meant.

  “They have every right to be here,” Finona protested. “They’re hardworking men being exploited by the system!”

  Tylenna held up a hand before this meeting devolved into a fight between the two. Finona held the common belief among the working class that the Porter’s Guild was being exploited by the wealthier Captain’s Guild, who were trying to drive them out of business.

  “Can we focus here?”

  She sat down on a crate and gestured to Ulfnar to do the same. The only two crates left were partially open and extremely uncomfortable to sit on. But he supposed it was better than standing.

  “Thank you for coming baron. I know it’s risky to be seen here.”

  The baron smiled graciously, held up both hands, and nodded his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, Lady Tylenna, but it was a small risk, since I have business in Tambryne City, so I was already on my way.”

  He paused, taking a drink of wine from a glass he had placed between his feet. “Now how can I help?”

  Tylenna leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees. She stared intently at the baron for a moment. If Ulfnar didn’t already know how much she trusted him, he would have thought she was trying to decide if she did.

  “We need your help getting someone inside.”

  The baron’s brow furrowed. “Inside? You mean at court?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “We want to send someone to the Spires.”

  The Baron chuckled, took another deep drink of his wine before wiping his lips with his sleeve. “Who? They already know all of you.”

  Tylenna smiled and shot a glance towards Ulfnar. “Not all of us.”

  “Him?” the baron asked, pointing a finger at Ulfnar.

  ‘This is a bad idea,’ Lina said.

  She was right, it was a bad idea. “Not me! Lady Larella knows exactly who I am! I’d have a knife in my neck in an instant!”

  There was no way they could get him into the Spires. Lady Larella would out him immediately, and if they didn’t take his head, he’d probably be assassinated within a week.

  “Hmmm,” the baron said, considering. “We could disguise him. Maybe darken up his skin with some oil. He’s got a generic enough face to go unnoticed. He could be my new representative at court.”

  “No!” Ulfnar said. “It’s too risky.”

  “Once we get the skin oil on you and you grow a beard, they won’t know the difference. With enough oil, they might think you’re Of the Spires yourself!”

  He still thought it was an unnecessary risk to his life, and he didn’t like the idea of placing some sort of oil on his skin to darken it. He was pale as a ghost. How much oil would they have to put on him? As he understood it, those who were Of the Spires, those related to the royal family were as dark as he was white.

  “Ok, assuming this works. What then?” he asked. He was annoyed that they were dropping this on him now. Why hadn’t Tylenna asked? He wasn’t a revolutionary, and when he came of age, he’d sworn an oath to his father that he wouldn’t get involved in the politics of another kingdom.

  Not that the oath was binding. Many of the Camulani nobility had broken that oath over the generations. Most recently, his great grandfather who started a war with the elves of Wickshire.

  “Sow chaos,” Tylenna said. “Live in court and cuddle up to Larella. Try to generate sympathy for our cause. We will take care of the rest.”

  “And if I get recognized?”

  “Run,” the baron said.

  Before Ulfnar could say anything, a heavy-set man thumped his way down the stairs. Arden and Harnfist reached for their swords and moved to stand in front of Lady Tylenna. Ulfnar stood, reaching for the daggers under his sleeves.

  The group relaxed when it was only Byng, the bartender. He glanced around the room at the assembled group, each with their hands on a weapon and chuckled.

  “There’re some shady people hanging about upstairs. Probably best that you wrap it up here.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stomped his way back up the stairs. The group around Tylenna let go of their weapons, but didn’t relax otherwise. They knew danger was afoot.

  “I’ll be in touch,” the baron said. He stood and made his way up the stairs. Finona and Furis followed him. Ulfnar expected that they would be providing him security while he was in town.

  Tylenna and the others waited a few minutes and then followed. This time, instead of leaving through the front door, Byng led them out the back door, which opened into a small, dirty alley. It backed up to a long brick building that was the back side of The Weary Traveler, which was one of the town’s two inns. It was the poorer of the two, and chances were that Baron Shendalle was staying at the wealthier one closer to the edge of town.

  “We best split up,” Tylenna said. “I will go with Ulfnar. We’ll meet you two back at the house.”

  Arden started to protest, but Tylenna silenced him with a look. He shook his head while Harnfist pulled him along down the alley. She and Ulfnar watched them go before she took his arm and began walking in the other direction out of the alley.

  “My, but you’re a strong fellow,” she said, squeezing his bicep. It was an unnecessary comment, as she had seen him naked on several occasions. She knew how strong he was. Unless she was making a suggestion for what they’d be doing once they returned to the house.

  ‘She loves you too!’ Lina cackled.

  Lina was definitely jealous. He didn’t understand why. Lina wasn’t even real. He knew that. Lina knew that. She was a complete figment of his imagination. Which meant that he was jealous of his own relationship with Lady Tylenna. It didn’t make sense. Was Lina just an intuition buried deep inside Ulfnar’s mind that was warning him not to get involved with her?

  He ignored both comments.

  They turned the corner out of the alley. It was dark and empty of people. All the windows were dark except for the tavern and the inn. Ulfnar walked carefully. Something was putting him on edge. He had the unnerving sensation that they were being watched. His hands worked their way up to his forearms, where he found comfort in the daggers hidden there.

  “What’s wrong?” Tylenna asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. He didn’t want to put her on edge.

  He chalked it down to nerves. The encounter with the Porters had upset him, and then the comment about shady people hanging out in the bar amplified that sensation. That was all. Everything was fine. They had both taken strolls down these very streets many times, at all hours of the night. There was no reason to expect anything tonight.

  Steel suddenly flashed as two men with swords jumped out from an alley. He shoved Tylenna away as the daggers flew into his hands. He deflected both their attacks and received only a small cut in return.

  He stood between both of them and Tylenna. He didn’t recognize the one on the left. He was a man so ordinary looking that he would vanish in a crowd of two. The other one, he knew well. It was a muscular man of ordinary height, with a single distinguishing feature: an eyepatch.

  It was Patch, and he’d come to kill them!

  The men changed. Ulfnar ducked under their swords and stepped forward inside the left man’s guard. He sliced at his sword arm and drove the other dagger into his belly. Both attacks scraped against the man’s chainmail. They must have hurt, but didn’t cause any lasting damage.

  ‘Where’s Patch?’ Lina asked.

  He realized his former guard hadn’t followed up on his first attack. Ulfnar turned to see Patch heading towards Tylenna. She was on the ground, staring at her attacker in fear. Patch swung as Ulfnar leaped at him.

  Tylenna screamed as the sword struck flesh. It missed killing her by inches, and only because Ulfnar tackled him seconds before. Patch threw his arm back into Ulfnar’s face. He was dazed for a minute as the guard’s elbow made hard contact with his cheek.

  He pushed the pain out of his mind and rolled to his feet. Tylenna was still on the ground. This was bad. He needed Arden and Harnfist, but they were long gone by now. It had been a bad idea to split up. Ulfnar should have known better.

  ‘Behind you!’ Lina shouted.

  Ulfnar spun around just in time to see the other man’s sword plunging at his chest. He dodged to the left, and the sword just barely left a cut across his midsection. Without Lina’s warning, he would have been run through.

  His back was to the attacker. He couldn’t have seen him. How had Lina?

  He dismissed that thought. He could figure it out later. He spun around another sword strike, getting closer to the attacker, as close to his sword arm as he could. He wrapped that arm up with his right hand and drove a dagger deep into the man’s throat. Blood gushed from the wound as he collapsed.

  His dagger had gone so hard and deep into the neck that it lodged into one of the neckbones. He had to let it go. He didn’t have time to draw another. Patch had recovered from his attack and was swinging at Tylenna again.

  Without time, Ulfnar threw his dagger at Patch, hooked his foot under the dead man’s sword and kicked it up into the air. He grabbed it by the hilt and charged at Patch, blade first. Rage suddenly flooded through him. This man was responsible for imprisoning him for two years! It was far past time he got his revenge.

  Patch ducked under the flying dagger but couldn’t recover in time to block the new attack. His former guard stumbled backwards as Ulfnar drove the sword deep into his belly. Patch continued to move backwards as Ulfnar pressed his attack. They were only stopped by the wall of a house. He kept shoving, driving the sword as deep into the house as he could.

  Patch’s mouth moved as he gurgled, blood starting to drip from his lips. Ulfnar let go of the blade and stepped back, but the former guard remained standing, the sword skewering him the only reason he was held up.

  He turned back to Tylenna and helped her up. She could walk but was bleeding badly from a wound in her stomach. She needed a healer. He lifted her up and carried her down the alley.

  “You saved my life,” she said softly, putting her arms around his neck.

  “Did you recognize those men?” he asked.

  “Only Dillon—the one with the eyepatch. He serves Lady Larella. I don’t know the other man.”

  ‘That’s a dumb name. I like Patch better.’

  Ulfnar raced back to the house they rented. He prayed that Furis would be there. He had some healing magic that could keep her alive. He couldn’t help but look around as they ran. Even though the two assassins were dead, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.