I heard him move across the room. A few moments later, the lantern bloomed and I blinked and covered my eyes. When I adjusted to the brightness I saw Braylar pull on a boot, his weapon belts already buckled around his waist.
I sat up and put my feet on the floor. “It’s not yet dawn. Why must we-”
“They’re coming. We don’t have much time.”
I pulled my tunic and trousers on. “Who? Who’s coming?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, pulling on the other boot as he hopped to maintain his balance, adding, “I wish I had time to shit.”
“If you don’t know who it is, how do you know we need to go? I don’t-”
“Violence is coming, Arki, coming fast. I don’t mean to be here when it arrives.”
My mouth was desert dry and my head felt like it had been run over by an ox and a heavy wagon behind. I wanted dearly to use the chamber pot, but he clearly wasn’t in a mood to tolerate any delays. I got dressed as quickly as I could and threw my satchel over my shoulder.
“Good, then-” He stopped to cock his head, listening.
I listened as well. There it was. A creak. And another. And then muffled voices coming from the downstairs common room.
Braylar said, with much bitterness, “A room without a window. You deserve to be caught and hung.”
“But, but you said you didn’t know. Didn’t you? You don’t know they’re here for us, or who they are even, isn’t that right?”
He ignored me, circling one last time like a bear staked to a post, waiting for the dogs to descend, and then he shoved me roughly back toward the bed. “They’ll be here in a moment. It’s likely they’d sooner kill us as not. And I won’t be taken alive. I’ll take out as many as I can, and then-”
“But why? Even… even if they are here for you, why not surrender? So long as you live, there’s a chance to-”
“To what? Escape? Be rescued?” He laughed. “You’ve read too many romances, Arki. I doubt they’ll take me prisoner, but if they do, it will only be to hang me on the morrow. That’s the good scenario.”
“The good? To be hung? What’s the bad?”
“They ask questions. Questions lead to more questions, none of which I’ll answer truthfully. That will lead to torture. Then I’ll answer very truthfully. All men do in time. So, I kill as many as I can before they cut me down. And then they’ll turn on you-”
He broke off and listened. I heard it, too. The stairs were creaking. Men were ascending.
“Surrender if you like. However, I wouldn’t advise it. Torture is very unpleasant.” He pulled his dagger out, spun it, and held it out to me hilt first. “I suggest you slit your throat first. Cleaner.” He nodded. “Quicker.”
I refused the dagger and held my satchel to my chest. “They could be anyone. They, they might not be here to kill us, or arrest us. And I’ve done nothing wrong! They-”
He snatched his dagger back. “We all make choices.” And then he moved to the left side of the door so it wouldn’t hit him when it swung in, his flail and buckler at the ready.
There was more creaking, the floorboards now. Whoever they were, they were close, coming down the hall, almost to our door. I clutched my satchel and wondered for a brief instant if I should have taken the dagger, before reminding myself that I was innocent. I just hoped whoever it was cared about such things.
We waited. I looked at the door, sure someone was right in front of it, equally sure I’d be the first thing anyone saw if they broke through. But I couldn’t move. My body didn’t respond, even as my mind screamed danger was on the other side of the door. And then I heard another creak, and almost emptied my bloated bladder. This creak was followed by another, and another still, as whoever had been in front of our door moved further down the hallway.
I looked at Braylar, and there was confusion in his eyes, and for the briefest moment, I thought doubt as well. I don’t remember doing it, but I’d begun holding my breath at some point, because I exhaled then, and felt faint.
A few more moments went by, in which I heard nothing at all, and then there was a horrendous crack, the splintering of wood down the hall. And then chaos erupted. Shouting, a man screaming, ordering someone else to surrender peacefully, more shouting, all of it running together, several voices at once, made incoherent.
I sat against the wall as the source of the commotion made its way back down the hall again. From the sounds of it, men fought other men, some shouting that an injustice was being done, others shouting for silence. There were collisions, the prisoners no doubt struggling against their captors as they were ushered past us, slamming into walls and doors as they went.
Braylar waited until he was certain danger had moved down the stairs, and then he cracked his door, just enough to look out and gauge the situation.
I whispered, “Who is it? Who did they apprehend?”
He tilted his head and opened the door an inch or two more. “I don’t know.”
“What’s happening?”
He didn’t respond, but opened our door entirely and stepped out into the hall. Poking my head out, I saw Braylar wasn’t alone. In fact, I’m sure there wasn’t a sleeping soul left under the roof. Most had come out of their rooms, but there were a few peering out from behind doors. That seemed prudent.
Braylar was standing alongside a wagon driver, leaning out over the railing. I walked over quickly and stood behind him. The common room below was a flurry of activity. Those who had slept on the floor between the benches were being pressed out of the way at spearpoint, pushed toward the walls to make room for the prisoners who were being escorted down the stairs. A few grumbled complaints, but that ended the moment the spears got too close. Reluctantly or not, everyone moved back, leaving a clear path to the door.
Hobbins was on the floor below, looking none too happy. I glanced down the rail and saw the Hornmen (all save Lunter) in their nightclothes as well, though a few had grabbed their swords. The same held true for the Syldoon as well, Mulldoos and Hewspear on our level, and Vendurro and Glesswik below-underdressed but hands on weapons. It struck me that, other than the men conducting this raid, Braylar and I were the only other people in the inn who were fully dressed. I wasn’t sure if anyone would notice, but my regret at leaving the room was growing by the moment.
The men who had woken everyone were dressed plainly and without indication of their position or rank. They wore blackened mail over dark gambesons, but no surcoats, livery, or badges. At a glance it was impossible to determine anything about them besides the fact they were abducting two very frightened-looking patrons whose faces I dimly recalled from the crowd the night before. There were at least ten soldiers, most armed with short spears and round shields, but some had swords drawn, and there was a man at the foot of the stairs with his sword still in the scabbard. He had brown-and-gray hair receding sharply above his temples, and he appeared to be the only man not doing anything. I supposed that made him the leader.
Red Scolin looked remarkably alert as he called down over the railing, “There are Hornmen under this roof. Unhand those men and explain yourselves. Now.” Despite the fact that he had no armor and his small group was badly outnumbered by the soldiers below, he issued this command as if there wasn’t any chance it would be ignored.
The leader looked up. “Ahh, yes. Thought you might still be here.” He unrolled a scroll and handed it to another soldier who started up the stairs with it. “Baronial writ. We are to apprehend these men and deliver them urgently.”
Red Scolin replied, “Maybe you didn’t notice, but this is an inn. Full of travelers. And subject to the laws of the road. Our jurisdiction, none other. Any arresting needs to be done here, we’re the ones doing it, and if not us, then the city watch.” The soldier handed Red Scolin the scroll.
The leader below said, “Peruse at your leisure. You’ll find it a binding document. We have authority in matters of sedition, from now going forward. On the road or off. In an inn or not. Your jurisdiction has been superseded.”