Feledias who, even as he had the thought, stepped through a gap the soldiers made, walking between it with Commander Malex beside him to stand two dozen feet away from Cutter, studying him with a grin on his face. “Ah, brother,” he said, giving his head a shake. “You are nothing if not predictable. You see, Commander Malex here, he thought that you would run, that I should reinforce the outside of the village, but I knew better. There is, for one, the fact that you have never run from a fight in your life, but that is not the only reason, is it? After all…” He paused, his grin widening. “You were alone when you ran. Which meant that you left those fools who follow you here.” He shrugged. “Perhaps you might have left the others—it wouldn’t be the first time. But I knew you would not leave the boy. Otherwise, you would have done so long before now. No, I knew you would come back and here you are. Here we are.”
Cutter sighed. “Well. Let’s get it done.”
Feledias laughed. “Come now, brother mine. It has been so long since we have talked, and now you want to so quickly skip the pleasantries? No, no,” he said, shaking his head, “that I cannot allow. And besides, do you not wonder where your friends are, those companions who have so foolishly aligned their stars with your own?”
Cutter said nothing. His brother would gloat, would make sure to enjoy this moment no matter what he did, but he found no reason to make it easier for him.
“Escaped,” Feledias said. “Fled toward the forest.” He smiled at Cutter as if they were sharing a secret. “Was that your idea, I wonder? Yes, yes, I suspect it was.” He shrugged. “It makes no difference, of course. Once we are done here, my men will hunt them down where they have fled like dogs in the streets, and they, like you, will suffer for their crimes.”
“And the villagers?” Cutter asked, shifting his shoulder and wincing as a fresh wave of pain ran through his arm. “They have committed no crime.”
“Perhaps not,” Feledias admitted, “but we both know that makes no difference. They cannot be allowed to spread the truth of what happened here, can they? After all”—he grinned again—“I am the nice brother, the kind one, the one known for his compassion. It would not do for the kingdom at large to believe that I am as bad as you, would it? No, that would not do at all.”
“And so you will kill a village of innocents to protect your own reputation.”
“Oh, brother of mine,” Feledias said, snarling, “I would do far more than that. Far more.” He took a slow, deep breath as if to calm himself and the madness which had suddenly flashed in his eyes was hidden once more. “Now, then,” he said matter-of-factly, “best we be about it. I will make you suffer for taking her from me, brother, for spoiling a thing that was fine, and then I will make your friends suffer as well, your friends who have fled and left you alone.”
“Sir, watch out!” Malex leapt forward, grabbing Feledias by the shoulder and jerking him back just as an arrow flew through the space where he had been standing only an instant before.
“No,” a voice called, “Not quite as fled as you seem to think.”
They all turned and Cutter was as surprised as Feledias and the rest to see Maeve standing at the opening of one of the alleyways, along with Priest and, he saw with heavy regret, the boy, Matt.
Feledias’s expression twisted with surprise, but it vanished a moment later as he calmed himself. “So the dogs have returned to their master after all.”
“You know us dogs,” Maeve said dryly, “stupid, sure, but loyal.”
“I see, and yet…” Feledias paused, glancing around them. “It seems that one of you is missing. Where is the mage, I wonder?” Cutter noticed the way Maeve’s expression hardened at that, and his brother could not have missed it either. He let out a laugh. “Ah, but it seems poor Chall did not make it out with the rest of you. Well, that is regretful, but I would not mourn for him. No doubt his death was a quick one. The rest of you, I’m afraid, will not be quite so fortunate.”
“Ah shucks,” Maeve said, “and here I was hoping we could all sit around, have a good chat, talk our differences out over some tea, maybe.”
Cutter knew Maeve was brave, few braver, yet he could not help wondering why she did not seem afraid in the face of nearly two dozen soldiers, and it seemed by the way his smile slowly faded that his brother was wondering much the same. “You are a good shot, old man,” Feledias said, looking at Priest, “but even you are not good enough to take out so many of us, and I doubt that quiver of yours carries enough arrows to get the job done even if you were. You were foolish to come back, for just the three of you can make no difference, no difference except to die, of course.”
It was Maeve’s turn to grin at that. “Just the three of us?” she asked. “I don’t remember ever saying that.”
And as if her words were a signal, people began to materialize out of the shadows behind her. Men and women of the village, wielding kitchen knives, broken-off chair
