Elise heard pounding footsteps to her right, so she pulled Athala to the left, getting around a corner into a hallway before she started hearing alarmed shouts. Someone called out for a pail of water, and Elise hoped they got one before the fire did too much damage. But that was not their concern right then.
Ermolt was.
The pair ran down the hallway deeper into the Keep. Either there were no guards or patrols posted inside the Keep, or they were all rushing towards the front gate, and Elise didn’t want to question their good luck. They ran along the hallway, ignoring the doors on either side until they found an open space.
On the right was a vaulted room. It looked like the main hall, with some tables and chairs set about, though no one was present at the moment. A staircase at the back of the room seemed to lead up to the second floor, but their attention was caught by a side door that looked to lead into stairs downwards. There were the grunts and yells of combat, and they both recognized a bellowing laugh as Ermolt.
“He’s trying to escape during the distraction!” Athala said.
“Let’s get down there and help him.” Elise rushed the stairs, leading Athala into what she assumed was the Keep’s dungeon. “And then get out of here while we still can.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ermolt took a deep breath as he stood over the downed Overseer. It had been a hard-won fight, but only because he had started unarmed against a sword-wielding foe. Once he’d gotten a good grip on the man’s wrist, the rest had come naturally. The guard was now a bruised heap on the ground, gasping for breath, more exhausted than injured.
“Well then.” Ermolt began to count, pointing at the bruised and beaten Overseers that leaned against the walls of the stone basement to the keep. “...And that makes ten.” He turned to the Guard Captain who stood with his arms crossed by the stairs. “I believe that fulfills the conditions of our bet. Your ten best, beaten with my bare hands. I trust you’ll keep your word, then?”
“I suppose I have to.” The man shrugged. “I don’t intend to leave ten guards down here, and you’ve demonstrated well enough that even that wouldn’t be enough to hold you.”
“Commander Hartmut, you can’t be serious!” one of the guards cried, though he still clutched his ribs from the beating Ermolt had given him. “Merylle will have your hide if you let him go.”
“She’d have my hide no matter what I do,” the Guard Captain shot back. “Either I have the entire guild down here standing guard over one prisoner, and she’ll get me for leaving the whole keep unguarded, or I leave a reasonable guard down here and she gets me anyway when he escapes.” He cast his gaze around the beaten-down guards. “So either I can keep my word and let him go, or I can go back on it now and you all get to go for a second round with this monster on his way out.”
None of the guards seemed thrilled with the idea of taking Ermolt on again. Ermolt suppressed the grin that haunted his lips.
“That said,” Hartmut held up a hand as Ermolt began to leave. “It’s clear we have a lot to learn about fighting, and you are more than capable of teaching us. Might I trouble you for even just one lesson?”
“I don’t know,” Ermolt ran a hand through his thick black hair. He was having fun, but he did have other obligations. Ermolt hemmed and hawed. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was obviously after dark by now. But Elise and Athala would think he were just out drinking, right? “Alright. Just one lesson. It should be a fairer trade for facing your boss’s wrath on my account.”
“Alright. What can you show me, then?” Hartmut asked, stepping into the improvised arena they’d designated for the fights.
“Well, before I can teach you anything, I have to see what you already know.” Ermolt brought his hands up and shifted into a fighting stance. “How about a quick spar so I can understand where you’re coming from? Hand-to-hand, so I don’t have to hurt you so bad to get the sword away from you, eh?”
“Seems fair,” the commander said, looking around at his guards, none of whom had succeeded in holding their weapon for the entire fight. He unhooked his sword belt and tossed it aside.
“Now,” Ermolt said as he beckoned Hartmut towards him. “You come at me, and show me what you have.”
The commander charged forward, bringing his gauntleted fist up as he closed the distance. Ermolt tilted his shoulder back to let the blow glance off his chest, using the impact to gauge Hartmut’s physical strength. Ermolt found it to be a respectable strike, but a far cry from anything that would cause him any real harm. Ermolt turned his shoulder back, twisting his body and throwing his strength behind his hand. The commander turned to catch the blow on his shoulder, but the strength of the open-handed strike almost threw the man from his feet. As it was it sent him staggering back, although Hartmut was able to catch himself before he fell over.
Ermolt moved forward, following the retreating Overseer and rotating his body again, throwing his other arm forward with the same force as the first. Still off-balance from the first palm strike, Hartmut lost his feet and landed hard on his back after the second.
“Twist with the blow,” Ermolt said as the commander scrambled back to his feet. “Whether it’s yours or theirs. It gives power to your strike, and stops theirs from landing square like that.”
Hartmut nodded as he got back to his feet, and charged in again. He threw his body into the strike this time, as Ermolt had done. The barbarian brought his other hand up and around, catching the incoming fist and directing it down and to the side. He followed up on the deflection by closing his huge hand around the Overseer’s wrist. Ermolt yanked down on the trapped arm, and brought his free hand up to strike Hartmut in the opposite shoulder, drawing him in and down, while at the same time turning him around. Ermolt stepped away, letting go of the Overseer’s wrist as the main flailed his way to the ground.
“Good power behind that,” Ermolt said as Hartmut stood again. “But you need to control it. There’s a middle ground to be found between putting your whole body behind it and not leaving yourself open if they dodge.”
“Are we actually going to spar, or are you just going to throw me around all day?” Hartmut said, panting. He laughed breathlessly as he said it, but there was an edge of frustration in his voice.
“I’ll give you an honest spar when you come at me like you mean it,” Ermolt said in a firm tone. The Overseer caught his breath and Ermolt readied his stance.
Hartmut attacked again, this time with intent behind his eyes. Ermolt brought his hands up defensively, and caught the first blow with his forearm. Like before, he directed the blow away easily. But Hartmut followed up quickly, and Ermolt began to get a sense for the fighting style the Overseers employed as the second blow came in quick after the first.
Their way of fighting suited their lifestyle. As they sparred, Hartmut focused on quick attacks and continuous aggression, which would pay off against a foe that didn’t see him coming. Never giving a foe enough time to stop and think denies them the ability to effectively form a defense or call for help.
But, as Ermolt shifted his head aside, letting the second blow glance off his shoulder, he decided to make it clear that such tactics were terribly poor for dealing with anyone who was already ready for a fight.
The barbarian shifted his stance, bringing his hand up quickly at Hartmut’s face in a palm strike. The Overseer sidestepped the strike, weaving to Ermolt’s left. The commander didn’t let up on his assault as he rotated around to his side, driving one fist into Ermolt’s stomach and then the other into his lower ribs. Ermolt tensed his muscles, absorbing the attacks as best as he could.
He whirled to follow Hartmut as the man kept circling in an attempt to get behind him. Ermolt brought his arm down to protect his side as the commander kept hammering blows into the hardened muscles around Ermolt’s ribs, and the Overseer switched target, aiming instead for the side of his now-unprotected head.
Ermolt leaned away from the Overseer’s attack, using the movement to shift
his weight and bring his leg up for a kick. His massive booted foot landed on the inside of Hartmut’s knee, causing it to buckle. The Overseer lost his balance and began to fall, flailing for a moment before he managed to grab a hold of Ermolt’s arm, seeking to pull him down as well. Hartmut’s weight alone would not have been enough to drag him down, but with his leg still raised from the kick, it unbalanced Ermolt enough that the grab was successful in bringing him down.
He landed as gracefully as possible, but being exceptionally tall meant that going all the way to the ground was a long way to fall. Hartmut managed to let go of Ermolt and roll away as soon as it was clear the barbarian was coming down, so he was unable to land on top of his opponent. Ermolt hit the ground with one arm extended to spread out the impact, grunting at the sharp pain of the hard stone floor. Hartmut got up onto his knees and moved towards Ermolt, seeking to resume the continuous assault that his fighting style seemed to engender. But Ermolt’s unarmed training included a lot of grappling, and his size gave him a large advantage in that arena.
Ermolt accepted the Overseer’s first punch to his gut, the strike doing little damage to the tensed abdominal muscles. As the second strike came down, he caught the fist with his hand. With a not-so-gentle tug he redirected the momentum and twisted with the motion. Hartmut was sent, unbalanced, over Ermolt’s shoulder. Ermolt spun with the motion and he wrapped one arm around the Overseer’s waist. The Guard Captain slammed shoulder-first into the stone floor.
The Overseer got his hands under him faster than Ermolt anticipated. The man was trying to protect himself against another slam and lift himself up. It opened him up, however. Ermolt brought the side of his hand down in a vicious chop to the man’s overextended lower back. Hartmut grunted in pain but used his positioning to push upwards in an attempt to throw Ermolt away. Ermolt only laughed. His pure brawn could prevent anyone but another barbarian from escaping a grapple. He hooked his hand around Hartmut’s knee as the Overseer tried to stand, yanking his leg out from under him. Unprepared, Hartmut unbalanced and tipped over backward. He slammed into the stone floor again with a grunt.
Ermolt followed the retreating Overseer, pouncing on top of him. He planted his knee on the man’s chest, positioning his leg so that it pinned one of his arms, and reached over with his far hand to hold the other arm to the floor as well. Hartmut tried to thrash his arm loose.
It was a failed effort.
Frustration crossed the Overseer’s face and he instead tried to kick free. But Ermolt’s superior strength and weight pinned him completely. Ermolt laughed with triumph as the Overseer gave up, sagging to the ground and panting for breath.
“So did you learn something from this experience?” Ermolt asked with a grin, trying to keep himself from breathing heavily.
“Yeah, don’t wrestle with anyone twice your size,” Hartmut grunted, his breath short from Ermolt’s weight on his chest.
“A good start,” Ermolt said. He leaned away from the man and started to get to his feet.
A battle cry from the stairwell stopped him.
He looked up sharply as Elise burst into the room, Athala right behind her. Ermolt felt a surge of pride in seeing both of them, but also confusion. How had they known to find him here?
Elise charged the nearest guard and brought her mace across his chest, knocking the unsuspecting woman to the ground. The Overseer yelped, raising her hands defensively. Ermolt could see the woman’s reaction time was slowed. She wasn’t just surprised—she was also still recovering from her fight with Ermolt not too long ago.
“Stop!” Ermolt yelled, causing Athala to freeze mid-spell. “Elise! Wait! Stop!”
The Conscript looked up at him. Her arm was still raised as if to bring her mace down on the downed guard, but she paused in her attack. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but her lips were drawn in a thin line of anger.
“Stand down!” Hartmut gasped from the ground. His arm twitched as he tried to wave his own men back and away from the intruders, but he was still pinned under Ermolt. It was unnecessary, however. While a few of the Overseers had started to ready themselves for a fight, it was very reluctantly as many were still bruised and battered as well.
“We came to rescue you!” Athala said, her voice cracking.
“Thank you.” Ermolt said. He finally stood up, letting Hartmut free. “But I have it under control.”
“We heard you were attacked in a bar,” Elise said, backing away from the guards to take up a defensive position between Athala and the rest of the room. “It didn’t sound like you had things under control there.”
“Yes, they had me outgunned there, but I was able to cut a deal here.” Ermolt offered Hartmut a hand, helping him up. The Guard Captain flashed him a weak smile in thanks. “See, if I could beat all the guards in a fight, they said they would let me go.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Elise said, shaking her head. “Why would they just let you go?”
“He beat my ten best guards,” Hartmut said with a huff. “That proved to me that I couldn’t hold him here. If I don’t let him go, he is more than capable of breaking out and taking my men down on the way out.”
“It seems like sound logic,” Athala said.
“That’s what I thought.” Ermolt grinned and brushed a bit of dirt from his pant leg. “So, while I appreciate the rescue, everything is under control.” He gestured towards the stairs. “Shall we, then?”
“No, I don’t think you will,” Merylle said. Ermolt and Hartmut groaned in unison. The Overseer stood about halfway up the stairwell. She looked down at those collected, her hands resting on the hilt on either hip. “In fact, you’re going nowhere.”
Chapter Nineteen
The woman finished descending the stairs, each step punctuated with the sway of a hip. Elise was unable to look away. She was wearing a pair of shin-high black boots, tight black slacks, and a flowing black shirt that was long to her mid thigh but had high slits along the sides. Her shoulder-length black hair bounced with each step, the curls soft and fluid.
The woman’s hands were resting on her weapons, but Elise knew it would be impossible to draw the swords in such a way. It didn’t make her any less deadly looking, though. There was a coiled tension in every fiber of that deep olive skin that screamed of danger.
This had to be Merylle Callac, leader of the Overseers.
Elise swallowed hard and her throat clicked dry. She placed a hand to Athala’s shoulder, drawing the wizard behind her person protectively.
“Ah, I see now you’re concerned about controlling your pet wizard,” Merylle said, a thread of rage coming through her tone. Even so, the voice was intoxicating. Melodic and warm. Merylle sneered at her, lips drawing away from her teeth. “If only you had showed such restraint on your way in.”
“We did what we had to in order to save our friend,” Elise said, drawing her shoulders back in an attempt to draw herself up to full height. The Overseer loomed over her by at least three rhen. “If you weren’t equipped to deal with a wizard, perhaps you would have done well to leave us alone.”
“A man is dead,” Merylle snapped. The words drew a hiss from Athala. “A good and innocent man burned to death on my doorstep. And you want to put that on me?”
“He was working for the Overseers,” Elise said, speaking quickly to stop Athala or Ermolt from butting in. She shifted her mace in her grip ever so slightly. Merylle’s eyes were drawn to the movement. “It seems unlikely that he was good or innocent.”
Merylle glared at Elise, her sneer turning more to a snarl. Elise glared right back. She focused on the tiny lines next to the Overseer’s warm brown eyes as she didn’t trust what the other woman would see in her glare. For a long moment, they each waited for the other to strike first. There was a tension in the room, with men and women shifting behind her uncomfortably. Elise was glad it wasn’t just her.
“Up to my office,” Merylle said at last. “All four of you.” One hand came off her hip to gesture, and she
included the man Ermolt had been pinning to the floor when she pointed at Elise, Ermolt, and Athala.
“You don’t command us,” Elise said. “We have made it clear that there’s nothing you can do to stop us. You couldn’t stop us from coming in, and you’d need all your guards in here to keep Ermolt from walking out. What makes you think you could make us do anything?”
“This might surprise you, but not all of my forces are here.” Merylle leaned against the wall casually. She crossed her arms over her body, across her belly instead of her chest. Her hands were still near her weapons, and in a much better position. But the posture oozed confidence instead of threat. “If I put the call out that we are under attack, everyone in the District knows their livelihood depends on us. You may have no qualms about killing my guards, but I think you will be a little more reluctant if you face the common folk who live here. Every man, woman, and child trying to protect their way of life. They would be your undoing.”
Elise recoiled at the thought but kept her face neutral. “You refuse the idea that the death of one of your guards is your fault when you provoked us. But you expect me to believe you would throw women and children at us?” Elise took a step forward, motioning with her shield arm. “You would order them to their deaths without hesitation?”
The woman paused in thought for a moment. “You know, perhaps I’m wrong about you, Conscript.” The word was spat out, as if it burned Merylle’s tongue. “Perhaps you would be willing to slaughter innocents. They don’t worship your particular god, so who cares about them, right?” Merylle gestured over Elise’s shoulder with her chin. “But I can tell your companions would rather not. Their faces betray your bluff.”
“Not one of us wants to kill innocent folks,” Elise admitted. She tried to stand taller to block more of the woman’s view of Athala. “But we also have a duty, and I would rather injure every person in this District than risk failing.”
Bargain Page 12