They entered Elia's house, where the air was thick with tension. The small space was crowded, with families huddled together, their voices low but urgent as they discussed the uncertain future. The flickering light from a few scattered candles cast long, wavering shadows on the walls, adding to the unease that permeated the room.
"Looks like we have a party in here," Thornton remarked, his deep voice cutting through the hushed conversations. His presence immediately shifted the room's focus to their arrival, the tension now tinged with a flicker of hope.
"You guys made it just in time," Elia replied, stepping forward. She was trying to keep her tone light, but the strain in her voice was evident. "We were just talking about you."
Thabis, always the calm one, moved to the center of the room, his face set in a serious expression. "I've got good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?"
The villagers exchanged glances, their anxiety palpable. Finally, one of the younger girls, her face pale with worry, spoke up. "Let's start with the positive, I guess."
Thabis nodded. "The good news is that we managed to get the bartender on our side. With his help, we should be able to gather a large enough crowd to overthrow Lord Hammond."
Gasps rippled through the room. The very idea of overthrowing the tyrant lord was both thrilling and terrifying. Mothers clutched their children closer, while the men exchanged uneasy looks.
"But," Thabis continued, his voice dropping lower, "the bad news is that some of us might not make it. We'll likely have to engage in combat with his soldiers. However, I promise you, if you keep your wits about you and stay focused, no harm should come to you."
As Thabis finished speaking, the mood in the room darkened. The villagers had initially agreed to flee the village, not to overthrow their lord. The thought of a violent confrontation—of possibly losing loved ones—was too much for some to bear.
Thornton, sensing the unease, decided to speak up, his tone confident and almost cavalier. "If it's against your simple village guards, I should have no problem slaughtering them by the hundreds."
Thabis turned to look at Thornton, a slight frown on his face. He understood Thornton's intent, but the remark didn't help ease the villagers' fears. It wasn't just about winning; it was about survival, and bravado wouldn't protect them from the lord's well-trained soldiers.
"I suggest you all head home and stay low," Thabis advised, his voice steady and reassuring. "The lord has likely already heard of our plans. Tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day."
The group began to disperse, the weight of the situation settling heavily on their shoulders. Each family retreated to their homes, their minds racing with thoughts of what was to come. As the last of the villagers left, Thabis found a comfortable chair and sank into it, the exhaustion of the past few days catching up with him.
He glanced at Thornton, who was still standing near the door, his large frame taking up most of the space. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired. We're going to need all the energy we can get for tomorrow."
Thornton grunted in agreement, his usual bravado dimmed by the seriousness of the situation. He would have preferred a bed, but he knew better than to complain. This was a poor family, and comfort was a luxury they couldn't afford. Finding a spot on the floor in a corner of the room, Thornton lay down, closing his eyes. Despite the grim circumstances, a small part of him was eager for the battle to come.
As Thabis tried to settle into the chair, his mind wandered to the events of the past few days. The village had been under Lord Hammond's oppressive rule for years, but it was only recently that the resistance had started to gain momentum. The villagers were tired—tired of the taxes that left them with barely enough to survive, tired of the soldiers who treated them like livestock, and tired of living in fear. Thabis knew that this rebellion was their only chance, but he couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the edges of his mind. What if they failed? What if, by trying to fight back, they only made things worse?
Morning came too quickly. The first rays of sunlight pierced through the small window, falling directly on Thabis's face. He groaned, stiff and sore from sleeping in the chair. Stretching, he tried to work out the kinks in his muscles. The pain and discomfort from the night's poor sleep faded slightly as he prepared himself for the day ahead.
He walked over to Thornton, who was still asleep on the floor, his large body sprawled out as if he hadn't a care in the world. Thabis gave him a light kick. "Wake up, we've got work to do."
Before Thabis could finish his sentence, Thornton's hand shot out, grabbing Thabis's leg and pulling him to the ground with surprising speed. "Don't ever do that again, twig, unless you want to get snapped," Thornton said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the moment.
Thabis, more annoyed than hurt, pulled himself up. There was no point in arguing with Thornton—he was too stubborn, and besides, there were more important things to worry about.
The two men left the house, stepping into the morning light. The village was eerily quiet. The streets, usually bustling with early morning activity, were almost deserted. Only a few stray dogs wandered the dusty roads, sniffing around for scraps. The silence was unnerving, a clear sign that word had already spread about their plans.
They made their way to the tavern, the only place in the village where any sort of gathering was still taking place. As they approached, Thabis could hear the low murmur of voices from within. When they entered, the sight that greeted them was both encouraging and worrying. The tavern was packed with men—some young and eager, others older and weary, their faces lined with years of hardship. Even a village guard had joined the group, his expression grim.
"Thabis, I gathered everyone who was interested in your plan," the bartender said as they entered. "The word must have already reached Lord Hammond, so expect some commotion."
Thabis looked around the room, his heart lifting slightly at the sight of so many willing to fight. About a hundred men were crammed into the small tavern, each one of them prepared to risk everything for a chance at freedom.
"Let me start by saying thank you all for coming," Thabis began, his voice carrying over the crowd. "You're putting yourselves at great risk, but I can promise you it'll be worth it. Today, you have the chance to break free from the shackles placed upon you by greedy men."
The room erupted in cheers, the men's enthusiasm infectious. They were tired of their desolate lives, tired of living under the thumb of a tyrant. For the first time in years, they had hope.
"Settle down, settle down," Thabis urged, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. "Let's talk strategy. We can't just storm his manor. From what I've observed, he has around eighty well-armed men. They'd mow us down the second we approach."
A murmur of concern rippled through the crowd. Thabis wasn't known for his leadership skills—Sabas was the true strategist among them—but his experience in infiltration gave him a unique perspective. He knew how to read a situation, how to find the weaknesses in seemingly impenetrable defenses.
"Now, I know there's a rat among us," Thabis continued, his eyes scanning the room. "It would be naive to think the lord would let us run amok without a spy."
Heads turned toward the guard, suspicion brewing in the crowd. The atmosphere grew tense, the men uneasy at the thought of a traitor in their midst.
"No, that would be too easy," Thabis said, shaking his head. "Let's disband and meet back here in two hours. By then, I'll have figured out who the rat is."
As the men began to leave, Thabis slipped out the back, climbing onto the roof of a nearby house. From his vantage point, he could watch the men as they filed out of the tavern. He was paying close attention to their behavior—only a rat could catch a rat. A fat man exited the building, looking noticeably nervous. His eyes darted around as if searching for someone. This subtle motion wouldn't alarm most, but Thabis saw right through him.
He motioned to Thornton, who had been watching from a distance, to follow the man. "Don't be stupid, and don't get caught. The only reason I'm not going is that I need to finalize the plan with the others."
Thabis reentered the tavern, where some of the men still lingered, their faces drawn with worry. "Tell the others to come back," he said, addressing the bartender. "I've found the culprit. It's the fat guy with the egg-shaped head."
The bartender's eyes widened in surprise. "Mr. Henderson? No way it could be him. His brother was killed by the lord."
Thabis sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Think for a second. That would be your last choice, right? But this is a game of chess. You must always be able to read your opponent."
The crowd was still in shock, struggling to reconcile the idea that a man who had lost his brother would work with his murderer. It didn't make sense, and yet, Thabis was certain.
"We never know," Thabis continued, trying to drive the point home. "Maybe he wanted his brother dead. We humans are greedy and jealous by nature. As soon as we don't have something, we wish the worst on those who do."
As some of the men returned, they were met with murmurs of disbelief and anger. But after a few moments, they began to see the truth in Thabis's words. Not everything was as black and white as it seemed.
Thornton, meanwhile, was tailing Mr. Henderson with the precision of a seasoned hunter. He stayed far enough back to avoid detection but close enough to keep the man in his sights. When the fat man turned into an alley, Thornton picked up his pace, silently climbing onto the roof of a nearby house. From his vantage point, he watched as Henderson met with a guard, his eyes glinting with greed as he handed over information.
"You're sure this will work?" the guard asked, his tone skeptical.
"Of course," Henderson replied, his voice a low hiss. "These fools are too desperate to think straight. Just be ready when I send word."
The guard nodded, handing Henderson a small purse filled with coins. "Make sure to meet up with them in two hours, and come to me to confirm everyone's presence. I have my men on standby."
Thornton's eyes narrowed. So that's how it is, he thought. Silently, he slipped away, taking a different path back to the tavern to avoid being seen. As he approached, he could hear Thabis and the others discussing their plan for the day.
"I have something that might help you," Thornton said, his voice smug as he entered the tavern. The conversation died down, all eyes turning to him.
"What is it?" Thabis asked, sensing that Thornton had uncovered something important.
Thornton grinned, enjoying the moment. "The fat guy was the rat. He sold us out for a purse of gold. He's supposed to make sure we meet up in two hours so the guards can take care of the rest."
Curses erupted among the men, their fury palpable. The realization that their freedom—their families' futures—was only worth a measly purse of gold was almost too much to bear.
Thabis quickly took charge, his mind racing as he adjusted the plan. "This is good. Here's what we'll do: we'll gather our weapons here in the tavern. As soon as he leaves to confirm our location, we'll arm ourselves and prepare an encirclement."
Thornton laughed, his earlier tension replaced with excitement. "As long as I get to kill something, the plan seems all good to me."
Thabis nodded, adding to his original strategy. "I know some of the men are on the fence. Try to convince them to wait for the troops to come—they'll only block their exit." He knew that if the plan was executed smoothly, the fall of Lord Hammond was inevitable.