Vendurro rode up alongside me, helm and lamellar reflecting very little with the sun still only peering over the highest rooftops. He started to say hello, yawned loudly enough to draw a dirty look from Mulldoos over his shoulder ahead of us, and took a big bite out of a hardboiled egg. Bits of crumbly yolk caught in the tuft of beard on his chin, then fell down his armor and onto the saddle. He brushed them off and grunted, seemingly more bothered by the spilled food than the likelihood of spilled blood that awaited us… ahead somewhere.
I leaned in close and said, “Has the captain said where we’re going?”
Vendurro offered me an egg, thankfully not the one he’d bitten. I was about to decline and then realized I hadn’t eaten anything yet to break fast. Even so early, and with the possibility of death and destruction closer with each step my horse took, I was still hungry. I took the egg and Vendurro replied, quietly so as not to draw anyone’s ire, especially Mulldoos’s, “Don’t have to ride with Cap too long before figuring out he’s not one to let loose the wheres and whatnots until he’s good and ready, and I’m guessing he’s neither just now, as I ain’t heard a thing. You could ask one of the lieutenants just there, but I figure you’re in no hurry to get cuffed in the ear, which is an altogether real strong likelihood, which is probably why you asked me, ain’t it?”
I nodded and took a bite of the egg-it had a grain or two of salt still pressed into the white on the outside, but was otherwise as plain and generally tasteless as a boiled egg could be. Still, it would quiet my stomach for a bit. “Did he say anything about what he…” I looked around at the other Syldoon riding around me-I certainly didn’t want to get punched in the stomach, ear, or anywhere else Mulldoos might decide on. I was about to attempt to rephrase the question when a soldier on my other side who I didn’t recognize said, “I’d snap your lips shut, scribe. Unless of course you wanted them so swollen they don’t open real good on their own.” I thought he was issuing the threat from his corner, but he tilted his head to the front, where Braylar, Hewspear, Mulldoos and the two Memoridons rode in a tight group. I’d been so busy thinking how to pose the question I hadn’t seen Soffjian or Skeelana ride up.
Yes, silence did seem to be a good choice, especially when I realized I was the only one even whispering.
Soffjian had mentioned abstaining from any fight, but she still had on her scale cuirass, where Skeelana wore nothing more protective than a half cloak over her sashed jacket. I noticed that both of them were behaving a little strangely. While everyone else looked straight ahead, or occasionally toward a noise coming from one of the darkened buildings or side streets, the Memoridons’ heads were in constant motion, though very deliberate, as they very slowly turned in nearly every conceivable direction. Not as if they suspected a threat, or in response to any particular sound, but as if they were trying to make sure they saw everything everywhere and took it all in. It was unnatural, and I noticed Vendurro watching them as well, and when he glanced at me, he shrugged his shoulders. “Plaguing queerest company you’ll ever hope to ride with, scribbler.”
I couldn’t argue that point.
However, my question about our destination was soon answered. Braylar led us down a cross street, Bulwark, and it was narrower than Broadbeef. Several houses down, a figure stepped out from an alleyway, and I immediately tensed up and almost reached for my crossbow, but no one else seemed remotely alarmed. Once we got closer, it was obvious it was another Syldoon, and two more emerged behind him.
Braylar dismounted and handed the soldier his reins, and Mulldoos and Hewspear climbed down as well, pulling their crossbows and quivers from their horses. I followed their lead right after Vendurro did, and the three soldiers took turns leading the horses into the alley. I hadn’t even noticed the entrance at first, as a wagon blocked it from view from the north, and a large number of crates accomplished the same feat on just the other side of Bulwark in front of the opposite alley, preventing anyone from immediately seeing that either in the gloom.
All the Syldoon spanned their crossbows, and half of them walked into the alley as well, disappearing into the shadows, while most of the remainder moved off into the opposite alley. Clearly, we were intending an ambush of some kind. Assuming he was correct and there was someone to ambush.
Braylar summoned Vendurro over, and having nowhere else to go and following the advice to stick close to the sergeant, I jogged after, careful to keep the crossbow pointed toward the ground, but not directly at my feet. I’d nearly discharged the weapon accidentally more times than I could count, so if it ever happened, hitting my own foot was preferable to shooting a Syldoon or Memoridon, which would result in a great deal more pain for me.
The captain was having a low conversation with his two lieutenants and remaining sergeant, the mail drape still obscuring most of his face, which was no less disconcerting out here in the open as it had been in the confines of the stable. I overheard Hewspear ask, “Do you expect them to come down Broadbeef Lane, Captain?”
Braylar nodded, his mail tinkling ever so slightly. “I do, though I can’t be entirely certain they won’t approach down Furl Street. In the very crooked and maddening layout of Alespell, it also leads to the Grieving Dog, though at an angle to Broadbeef, intersecting just east of the inn. But all… indications are they come down Broadbeef.” He turned toward Vendurro and pointed toward the alley where the horses had been led. “You made sure that actually leads somewhere, yes?” Vendurro nodded. “Good. I hope not to have use of them, but should we need to retreat, it proves awfully difficult in a dead end.”
He led us to the other alley, opposite the mounts. While I had no wish to fight at all, as I was clearly only marginally better than inept, and would only be more of a danger to our company if I attempted to do so from horseback, I had misgivings about leaving my horse, even in another alley. It tolerated me, and it was far faster than I would be running if it came time to flee.
Braylar stopped just inside the entrance to the alley. Mulldoos was a little further in, and when a rat darted out from behind a barrel, he stepped on its back, breaking it with a crunch, ending its life with nary a squeak. If it had brethren, they were smart enough to stay put. I moved next to Braylar, but not so close that I crowded him. “I don’t presume to know much about combat-”
“Truly? You carry yourself like a puissant champion of a thousand battles.”
“But why have you chosen to dismount and fight on foot? If we have to fight, that is.”
His hand drifted to his left side, fingers idly tapping the haft of Blood-sounder. Even with his face and scowl hidden by the aventail, there was no disguising the irritation in his voice. “We will have to fight. Make no mistake. It is more… absolute now. And as to the how of it, perhaps you failed to notice, but the chief virtue of a horse is speed and mobility. Neither of which you can put to any use in these narrow and crowded avenues, especially once the denizens start milling about. We would only get in each other’s way here, unless we headed to the thoroughfare, by the central plaza. But then, hiding twenty horses is awfully challenging, yes? Which makes setting an ambush decidedly difficult. Now be silent. Idle chatter also proves an impediment to surprise. Beyond which, it is incredibly annoying.”