Tuaba’al swung off his horse into the long grass, lit a shal-colored afaribyb and lifted it to his lips. The smoke floated up, where it joined the massive column of smoke billowing up from the burned ruins of the frontier village. He shook his head, tied the halter to a scrub tree branch, and started walking towards the town.
He fished a pouch out of his longcoat pocket and opened it, sliding out two small blades as he walked. The grass dropped away into a well-used path, running from a small well back to the town. Tuaba’al walked up it. Burned and bloodied corpses lined the sides, some with arrows still lodged in them. He stopped and closed the eyes of an infant.
A man stood at the head of the path, scanning the other horizon. Tuaba’al walked up behind him, cushioning his steps in the grass. The toe on his boot hit a rock with a loud click, and the lookout whirled around, reaching for his sword. Tuaba’al flicked one of the knifes out and hit him in the neck. The man dropped, and he stepped over him without breaking step.
Kippidast was by now a burned out village. The bodies of the townspeople had all been dragged out, and the wealth of the town was piled in the square. Tuaba’al slowed as he walked in, staring straight ahead into the fire. A man sat on the pile, hair matted and dressed in trousers, mail, and a shal serape. A sword lay over his knees, and he stared into the dirt. Tuba’al slowly reached for his own.
“Melqart! Twenty talents on your head.”
The man looked up, and a dark smile creased his face.
“You have a minute to leave. Starting now.”
Tuaba’al didn’t move. A minute passed. Melqart shifted his head.
A yell echoed form a side street, and a man rushed him. Tuaba’al took him before he was even five paces closer. Diversion. Wasn’t out of Melqart’s pattern, and-
Seeing pain washed over him and he hissed and staggered back. Melqart pulled his sword out of his wound and swung again. Tuaba’al threw himself sideways and landed on the ground with a crunch. White hot pain hit him again, and he heard a sickening crunch from his hand. He staggered back to his feet and swayed, grabbing for his sword with his good hand. Melqart lunged again and Tuaba’al turned again. The blade swished along his side, but didn’t hit. Good, and-
Tuaba’al’s scabbard and sword plunged to the ground. Shit, shit. He stared at Melqart. The bandit grinned like a madman, and began waving the sword at him. Tuaba’al glanced away for a second, and saw the body of the fallen man. He scrambled towards it, Melqart walking after him whistling. His foot plunged into a hole and he fell. Eldamnit. The body was close. He turned over and scrambled towards it, Melqart’s shadow looming over him. His hand closed on a packet and he tore it open, revealing a sleeve of poison darts. He snatched one, as Melqart swung overhand at him, and Tuaba’al stabbed up with closed eyes.
Nothing. He opened his eyes. Melqart had fallen, the dart lodged in his stomach. Tuaba’al grinned, and sank backwards in relief. He could do a lot with twenty talents, and the serape looked nice. He reached over and started to pull it off the bandit’s neck.