When Perrilin moves adjacent to their table, James and Jiron get to their feet. James gives Perrilin a greeting and holds out his right hand.
“Get off me you idiot!” the slaver yells and pushes Reilin away.
Stumbling backward, Reilin hits the edge of a table with his leg and crashes into a man and woman.
Perrilin stops and takes James’ hand to shake it with a glance over to where Reilin is now laying across the two people’s laps. Then from behind him, Scar jumps up and grabs him around the chest just as James grips his hand hard and stretches his arm across the table.
Jiron produces a hatchet from out of his cloak that acquired earlier for just this moment and raises it high. Bringing it down hard, he severs the hand from the arm.
Perrilin cries out as blood spurts forth from the bloody stump and the room becomes still from shock.
Then a woman screams and the room bursts into action. Scar lets go of Perrilin who falls to the floor clutching the bleeding stump and moaning in pain. He knocks the slaver whom Reilin spilt ale on to the floor as he clears a way for Jiron and James to make their escape. They make it halfway to the door before three men move to block the exit.
Cries and shouts erupt as the people surge forward toward them.
Leading the way, Scar pulls forth his double swords and begins striking out at the men barring his way. One man manages to draw forth his sword but Scar batters it aside and plunges the point of his sword into the man’s shoulder.
Then Jiron is there beside him and the other two men are quickly thrust aside. With the way to the door clear, he yells, “Come on!” With the other two behind him, he bolts for the door. Before he can reach it, another man, rather large and angry, moves to block his escape.
Barely slowing even a little, Jiron strikes the man with the pommel of his knife just before Scar hits him with his shoulder and knocks him out of the way. Moving out into the street, they race into the night. Behind them, they hear another woman scream as she swoons into unconsciousness and just happens to fall into the men rushing after them.
Aleya’s body hits the first man who was trying to catch them, which knocks him into the second one and suddenly the doorway is jammed with bodies writhing on the floor. By the time they are able to untangle themselves, their prey has disappeared into the night.
Splitting into search parties, the men begin combing the streets to find the two who did this to Kir. The most beloved and skilled bard they have ever had the pleasure to experience. Blood is on their minds, and if they should come across the men who did this, there is little confusion as to what they will do.
Back in the Wallowing Swine, Reilin, who by this time has become miraculously sober again, shouts for all to hear, “We have to get him to a healer!”
Three men come and pick up the moaning and blood soaked Perrilin. Then Reilin shouts again, “This way!” and begins leading them out the back door. He and the three men who are carrying Perrilin race out the back and into the courtyard there. Several of those who were there to see Perrilin perform follow them out.
Then, racing across the courtyard, they leave through the courtyard’s gate and enter the street. Turning right and away from the tavern, Reilin leads Potbelly, Stig and Shorty who are carrying Perrilin, as well as the crowd following them, quickly down the street.
Ducking into a side alley, James puts the severed hand into an empty pouch and ties it shut. Then the sound of running feet comes and they plaster themselves against the alley wall. Holding still, they wait for the group of men to race past before returning to the street.
“Scar,” Jiron says, “Go after the others and make sure they make it to the rendezvous.”
He gives him a nod then runs back down the road to the tavern. “Now,” begins Jiron as he points to the blood soaked pouch, “let’s get rid of that and get out of here.” He then turns down the street in the direction leading to the slaver’s compound. Breaking into a run, they race along the street all the while keeping eyes and ears alert for anyone in the vicinity.
“The whole city will be searching for us before long,” James says. Forced to hide in the shadows as two guards make their way down the street, they wait and watch as the men come forward. By the way they’re just walking along, it’s unlikely they have yet to learn about the events at the Wallowing Swine. Whether they have or haven’t, he and Jiron aren’t likely to run the risk that they have.
After the two guards turn the corner and disappear, they return to the street. “It’s not far from here,” announces Jiron. And sure enough, the gate to the slaver compound appears before them shortly. It’s closed and stationed out in front of it are two slaver guards.
Jiron brings them to a halt before the guards at the gate have seen them. “If they don’t let us in,” he says to James in a whisper, “we’re going in anyway.”
“What about your promise to Azku?” he asks. “If we should do anything to hurt or destroy this place or its people, you will be breaking your word.”
Jiron looks at him and replies, “If he breaks his word, then what I agreed to is no longer binding.”
James gives him a look like he still thinks it should. “Whether someone else keeps their word or not, doesn’t affect your own honor. Only your choices. You swore to leave Baku as you find him, and you should.”
An argumentative look crosses Jiron’s face as he stares back at him, “We’ll see.” Moving out from the shadows, he heads toward the gate with James right behind.
The guards are quick to notice them coming in their direction. They stay where they are and make no movement or gesture as they arrive. “Come back in the morning,” one says when Jiron comes to a stop several feet away.
“We have a package for Buka,” Jiron says.
“What kind of package?” asks the second guard.
“The kind that I’ll have to kill you if I tell you,” replies James.
The first guard whispers something to the second who nods and turns back to them. “You two match the description of two we were to keep an eye out for.” He looks them up and down, taking in the blood staining both their clothes. Then he nods to the first guard.
Removing a ring of keys, the first guard moves to the gate and unlocks it. Pulling it open, he says, “Was told to tell you to meet him in the same place as you had before.”
James gives them a nod, “Thanks.”
Without a word, the second guard waves them on through.
Passing through the gate, James and Jiron enter the slaver courtyard as the gate swings closed behind them. The sound of the turning of the lock tells them the guards have locked it again. Lanterns are hung at intervals around the courtyard, filling it with abundant light. From one of the buildings nearby the cry of a slave is heard.
Something about this just doesn’t feel right to Jiron. Maybe it’s the events of the night that has him rattled, whatever the reason he has a hand resting on one of his knives. “Be on your guard,” he whispers to James.
“Think he’ll try something?” James asks.
“I don’t know,” he replies. As they cross the courtyard, he realizes the place is deserted. For this time of night there should be someone out on one errand or another. A noise from the darkness causes him to stop in the middle of the courtyard and peer in that direction.
“What?” asks James.
“I don’t know,” he replies. When the noise doesn’t repeat itself, he says, “May just be my imagination.” Resuming their trek across the courtyard, they come to the building wherein they met Buka the night before.
As they are expected, Jiron makes no attempt at stealth and opens the door. Entering the hallway, he passes through it to the door separating the two halves of the building. At the next door, he opens it and continues into the next hallway. Moving down, he comes to the door wherein Buka had been the last time. This time however, he knocks upon the door.
“Come in,” is heard from the other side. Opening the door, they find Buka sitting at the table with three other men there with him. One of the men they recognize as having been a guest at the Wallowing Swine this evening. The other two slavers they saw there, the ones James was sure had to be the ones Buka sent to observe the taking of the hand, are not.
“You have it?” Buka asks.
James removes the blood soaked pouch and tosses it onto the table in front of the slaver Guildmaster. Buka nods to the man sitting to his right who then takes the pouch and opens it. Upending it over the table, the hand
