drops out and lands before Buka. A trail of blood oozes its way across the tabletop from the severed hand.
“We have kept out part of the bargain,” Jiron says.
Nodding, Buka replies, “So it would seem.”
“Now, tell us where the owner of the necklace can be found,” demands Jiron.
“Calm down, young man,” Buka tells him. “I always keep my word. Can’t rise to a position such as I have if you don’t.” He nods to two of the other slavers there with him and they take the hand and leave. Once the two men have left the room and the door once again is closed, Buka gives them a look and starts to laugh.
Startled by the unexpected reaction, Jiron asks, “What’s so funny?”
Bringing his laughter under control, Buka says, “The knowledge of where your friend is will do you no good.”
“Why is that?” James asks.
“For one thing,” replies Buka, “you can’t get to him even if you know where he is.”
“Where is he?” demands Jiron.
“Five days ago, he and several other slaves were taken to Ith-Zirul.” He pauses a moment to see what affect his words are having. When neither of them reacts to the name, he shakes his head and chuckles.
“Why is that so funny?” asks Jiron.
“Because,” he says with a grin, “none who go there ever come out.”
“Where can we find it?” Jiron asks.
“Ah,” Baku says as he holds up a hand, “I only agreed to tell you where you could find your friend, and I have.”
“But we need to know!” demands Jiron.
Baku’s face darkens as all signs of amusement leave him. “Our bargain is concluded,” he states, tone getting an edge to it. “I suggest you leave now.”
James can see the storm building behind Jiron’s eyes. Laying a hand on his arm, he says, “We should go.” When Jiron hesitates, he adds, “At least we know the name of the place. Trust me, we’ll find it.”
With a slight nod, he allows James to lead him to the door. Never once taking his eyes from Buka, he hears the door open behind him. “Come on,” James tells him. Passing out into the hallway, his eyes continue to bore into those of Buka until James closes the door.
“Some day, he and I will meet again,” prophesizes Jiron. “And when we do, only one of us will walk away.”
“Should that day come I wish you all the luck,” says James. “Right now though, we have to get back to the others.”
Jiron nods and together they hustle back out the way they came in. Once out of the building they head across the courtyard to the gate. Jiron is internally fuming over what Buka told them, rather what he didn’t tell them. They have a name of where he is, but not where the place is located.
All of a sudden from up ahead of them, they hear the creak that signals the opening of the gate. Jiron comes to a stop when he sees the two slavers from the Wallowing Swine passing through.
“You!” one of the slavers exclaims when he recognizes them. Drawing his sword, he advances upon Jiron and James. “You shall die for what you did this evening.”
“Never again will the music of Kir be heard in this world,” the other yells as he, too, draws his sword.
Jiron gives them a grin and draws forth both knives. “If it’s a fight you want, I’ll oblige you,” he says. With that he again moves forward, wanting nothing more than to vent the anger and frustration Buka instilled within him on these two.
As Jiron moves toward the two men, James removes one of his remaining slugs from his belt in the event Jiron should need his help. Just before Jiron reaches them, James catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his gaze in the direction of the movement, he suddenly realizes there are men within the darkness on the far side of the lanterns. Then, he hears a voice speak a command, one that he’s heard dozens of times before in battle with the Empire.
Just as the twang of a dozen crossbows breaks the stillness of the courtyard, he creates a barrier. A fraction of a second later, the flight of bolts strikes the barrier and ricochets off. That’s when he realizes he unconsciously made the barrier large enough to encompass not only himself and Jiron, but the two slavers as well.
Jiron, oblivious to what is transpiring around them, is only concerned with the two slavers. For their part, all they want is to kill the men who took the hand of one they held in awe.
As one slaver thrusts at Jiron, the other brings his sword at an angle to slice into Jiron’s side. Deflecting the thrust to the side with one knife, he brings the other in to catch the oncoming blade on the knife’s crossguard. Thrusting the sword upward, he moves inside the man’s guard and knees him in the stomach. Knocked backward by the blow, the slaver staggers two feet before regaining his balance.
Turning his attention to the other slaver, Jiron knows he only has a moment before the man he kneed returns to the fight. He strikes out at the first slaver’s head with a knife which causes him to bring his sword up to block the blow, then comes in with the other and opens a three inch cut along his side.
Now bleeding, the slaver gives an inarticulate cry and brings his sword in for a thrust at Jiron’s midsection. Dancing to the side, Jiron deflects the attack and brings his other knife in for a blow to the man’s neck. Unable to avoid the blow, the slaver cries out as the blade rips into his the left side of his neck, practically severing his head from his torso. Falling to the ground, the slaver flops around a second before becoming still.
Just then, the other slaver rejoins the fight and strikes at him with an overhand hack which he barely sidesteps in time. Backing up, Jiron readies another attack when he finally takes notice of the barrier. Glancing outside of it, he sees over two dozen slavers ringing them, about half having crossbows. “Don’t worry about them,” he hears James say. “Finish this guy then we’ll deal with the others.” Jiron gives him a nod and advances on the remaining slaver.
With his partner lying on the ground dead, the second slaver cries out as he launches into a series of blows designed to bully his way through Jiron’s defenses. But Jiron has seen many such attacks before, and by others more skilled than the man before him. Moving his knives quickly and deftly, he deflects the blows and waits for the opening he’s sure will appear.
He begins to deflect the man’s sword in a pattern he’s used many times to create an opening. Each time the sword comes at him, he deflects it in such a way that the man becomes slightly more unbalanced. Until finally, the opening appears and Jiron strikes out with a barely seen attack and sinks his blade in the man’s chest.
Stepping backward, Jiron watches as the man looks in confusion at the hilt sticking out of his chest. Then his sword falls from his fingers as he drops to his knees and topples over. Moving forward, Jiron reclaims his knife and wipes both blades off on the man’s clothes. Standing up again, he looks around once more at the ring of slavers surrounding them.
“What now?” he asks James. He can see the bolts lying on the ground on the other side of the barrier from the futile attempt to attack them.
With the threat from the two slavers within the barrier nullified, James turns toward those on the outside. “We’re leaving,” he tells them. To Jiron he says, “Follow me.”
Jiron nods and replies, “Lead on.”
Altering his course, James no longer moves toward the gates, rather he heads to the back wall of the slaver compound. One slaver gets in their way and threatens them with his sword. Before the edge of the barrier reaches the man, James says, “Move.”
The slaver either doesn’t understand or ignores the command for he advances forward. Raising his sword to strike, he’s suddenly struck by the barrier before he can complete the maneuver. The unexpected blow knocks him off balance and he hits the ground as James and Jiron continue on by.
“Look,” Jiron says as he points to the door leading into the building wherein Buka met them. The Guildmaster stands there in the doorway and glares at them as they move closer.
“I see him,” replies James. When he draws closer, James says to Buka, “We’re leaving. Anyone you send after us will die.”
“You aren’t going to get away with this,” the Guildmaster states, the implied threat quite apparent.
“Better men than you have tried to kill us,” Jiron tells him, “yet here we are.”
Buka didn’t get to be Guildmaster by being stupid or acting foolishly. Having seen the bolts being deflected by the barrier and the subsequent knocking aside of the slaver, he knows there’s nothing he can do to prevent them
