She made quick work of the men as they slept, pushing a thin blade down into the tops of their heads. Only two of them spasmed when she did her work, but their seizures were not so loud as to wake the rest. It was a pity that she could not do more, but there were five yet that she might still have a bit of fun with.
Aile retraced her steps now, making for the galley. She could not be sure, but she doubted she would find all five awaiting her there. There had been no alarm, though, so perhaps there was no one guarding the yard proper.
The hall was shorter this time, but there was light spilling from an open door midway down and sound to tell her there were elves as well. She heard two voices as she came near the edge of the doorway. A third spoke, but only occasionally and, then, with some authority. Were she forced to guess, she would place them as the seniors among the night guard.
There was a door just next to the galley. A small larder. She pushed at it but it was locked. An inconvenience to be sure. The elves would be hard-pressed to fight her in the narrow passage.
She peered around the edge of the doorway. The three around the tables were muscular and generally well-equipped. Moreso than she’d expected. She pulled one of the daggers at her back and crouched near the larder door. Aile took a breath. She tapped the hilt against the door and waited.
The galley conversation died out instantly. A pair of names were called. When there was no reply, she heard instead the scraping of a chair against the floor and then footsteps. The other two went back to their conversation.
The guard made the door and took a half-step into the hall. He was dark-haired and tan, well-muscled. It would not matter. He did not look down and so he did not see Aile as she launched herself forward, dragging the dagger along the front of his legs just below the knee. He wore no armor there and the fabric provided no shielding as the blade passed with little effort through the joint. He crumpled behind her and she spun, plunging the dagger into the base of his skull, turning his pained scream into an awkward whine.
She pulled the blade and made ready for the others, having heard the chairs shift as the dead elf screamed. She waited, but there was no sound. Damn it all, the voice of authority from before was proving smarter than she would appreciate. But she could just hear uneven breathing. The other was not handling things so well.
“Everyone! Intruder!” The junior guard. His voice cracked. “Come quick! Intruder!”
The other made no noise. She neither heard him move save for the occasional soft scuff of shoe on stone. He was slowly finding an advantageous position. He would not come. The corpse at the door would prove too awkward to navigate. Aile did not know if the galley had another door and she began to wonder about it. It would do the senior guard little good by himself and the bulk of his retinue was no longer a concern.
“Maybe it’s gone.” The junior guard spoke again.
“Neh, no footsteps.”
“Maybe we just didn’t hear.”
The senior guard ignored him. Aile was becoming bored of this stalemate. These two would die, that was a necessity, but this was taking longer than she had hoped. If there was no other way free of the galley, the returning guards could prove a bit of a problem.
Aile stood and moved silently to the center of the doorway.
“A goddamn Drow. Sisters fuckin’ be.” The senior guard licked his lips.
“Wha— what d’we do?”
“We kill it.”
The senior guard pulled his sword and the junior, watching him intently, did the same and looked at Aile. She slid a hand down her thigh and pulled a thin throwing dagger free.
“Ah, sorry boy. She’s gonna kill ya.” The senior guard stared at Aile intently and she felt a tingle in her groin. He understood well. Perhaps her hopes were not so foolish.
“What’re you… there’s two of us. We jus’ gotta—”
Aile flung the knife and it lodged in the space between his eye and nose. As soon as she moved to loose the knife, the senior guard charged around the table. He was smart, kept his sword low. So many pulled them over head, hoping to slash down at her. His sword crossed the dagger and she slipped to the far side of him, slashing at his back, putting a gash in his stiff leather armor. He turned, filling the doorway and slashed at her again. His partner had fallen backward into a shelf making a mess of Aile’s path of retreat, but he had politely knocked some fruits to the floor. Aile took one and heated it, flinging it at the charging guard. The clementine’s flesh split across his forearm, protecting his face for the most part. The liquid inside hissed as it sprayed across him and he screamed. Aile followed the fruit, leaping onto the table. Her dagger bit through the flesh of his wrist, nearly severing it. The elf screamed as he impacted the ground, tearing the rest of his hand from his arm as the instinct to brace his fall made the worst of the wound.
He scrambled to at least point to face her. Aile stood on the table, another clementine in hand. The skin of the fruit was roiling holding back the scaling liquid inside. She tossed it gently at his legs and the fruit exploded the moment it hit.
“Fuckin’ bitch! Dirty dirt skin whore!”
The scream was enough to make Aile shiver,
