20 – Ashke / Mosek – Out of the Mountain.
Standing in front of the
cart, Ashke begins, “We are from—”
“I’m not asking you.” The
dwarf with the iron-rings braided into his beard snaps the words like a whip.
He turns his glare to Mosek. “Tell your servant to keep quiet. Now. Where are
you from, and where are you going?”
Both Ashke and Mosek
freeze at the word ‘servant’.
Mosek steps forward
slowly, palms open. “We are traveling merchants from Two Forges School,
bringing trade goods to our sister school at Weaving River. The Grand Market is
closed, but they may have access to other markets.”
The senior guard walks
closer, slapping his truncheon into his palm. “Where are your Transit Papers?
All merchants need a Unified Guilds transit stamp. And we’ll be searching your
goods to make sure you aren’t smuggling weapons or contraband.”
Mosek keeps his voice
steady. “I’ve been a Bimkor trader longer than you’ve been alive. I have never
needed a stamp to travel or sell goods.”
The guard steps right
into his face. “You say Bimkor like it’s something to be proud of.”
He sneers. “We heard you joking as you approached. You like the smooth‑skins so much, maybe we’ll let a Silent Hammer shave you.” He slaps the truncheon into his hand again. “Or maybe I’ll just beat you here and confiscate your goods. I bet none of them have Guild stamps either. We’d be within our rights to take everything.”
He raises the truncheon.
Ashke moves first.
He catches the guard’s
wrist, twists it behind his back, and forces him down with practiced precision.
The other two guards lunge forward—
—both drop instantly as
blunt‑tipped arrows crack against the backs of their helmets.
Ashke wrenches the
truncheon free and pins the senior guard to the ground. Mosek grabs a trade
rope and binds his wrists.
Two camouflaged shadows slip down from the rocks above the tunnel mouth. They move fast, tying the unconscious guards before they can stir.
A familiar voice whispers, “Mosek… Blessings of Bruna, we found you.” Shaatka steps around the barricade and pulls him into a fierce hug.
Ashke gags the squirming
senior guard and drags him beside his unconscious partners. He looks up at the
second shadow and smiles softly.
“Red Shadow.” She nods once.
Ashke crouches beside the bound guard and speaks in accented Durask. “This is one of the Zhul‑durak you whisper about in fear. You were going to turn my friend over to Durn’s Silent Hammers. Thank Durn I don’t turn you over to her.”
Ana leans close to the captive’s face. Her voice is a low, dangerous purr. “Be thankful I don’t carry a blade. Your beard would make a lovely trophy.”
The guard’s eyes go wide
with terror.
Ana straightens and winks
at Ashke.
Together, the four of
them shove aside the barricade stones. With no time to waste, they slip onto
the Merchant’s Road and hurry down the mountain before more of the Legion of
Stone arrive.
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