The brief exchange between them was short but effective, ending just before it could raise the suspicions of the guards outside the room.
With a silent nod to each other, Leon and Liam lowered their visors, hiding their faces once again, and shifted aside without a word. They blended into the shadowy corner of the room, their presence masked by their stoic silence.
From his hiding place, Brandon cautiously poked his head out from the corner. He cleared his throat, calling out through the partially open door with a muffled voice speaking in Uriah.
"Sir, I can't understand this... Feru language," he groaned, his voice purposely sounding clueless. "This golden chick is chirping like she's trying to ask you something!"
Outside, Knight Kantadar had just cracked open a barrel of wine, savoring a few sips when he heard the voice from inside. His brow furrowed, and he glanced toward the house in confusion. Smacking his lips and wiping his mouth, he set the wine barrel aside. With a deep sigh, he grabbed his halberd and axe and motioned for his servants to follow him as he marched back inside.
Impatience seeping into his voice, the knight barked at the blonde girl standing in the corner, "Girl! What now? What do you want?" His words, spoken in Feru, were sharp and brimming with frustration.
Olivia, the girl in question, caught her breath. She had prepared herself for this moment, but facing the grizzled knight and his looming servants made her heart race. With a final deep inhale, she squared her shoulders and walked forward, meeting the knight's gaze.
Kantadar, taken aback by her sudden approach, instinctively stepped back, raising his halberd in defense. His two servants, mirroring his movements, lowered their spears, pointing them directly at Olivia, their eyes wide with caution.
Leon, standing at the side, raised an eyebrow at the absurdity of the scene. Six fully armed men surrounding a lone girl, and for what? A standoff that looked both comical and tense. He exchanged a subtle glance with Liam, giving him a discreet nudge with his elbow. Both men knew they needed to play along. Without a word, they unsheathed their swords, joining in the pretense of guarding against Olivia. They still hadn't revealed their true identities, and it was vital to maintain appearances.
The tension in the room was palpable, swords and spears gleaming in the flickering light as everyone stood still, waiting for what would happen next. Despite the gravity of the situation, the absurdity of it all wasn't lost on anyone.
Olivia, ignoring the cold blades now pointed her way, bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat with frustration. She hated what she was about to say, but she had no choice. She had to play her part.
"I... I've decided to agree to your leader's request," she finally said, her voice steady but laced with a reluctant tremor. "But I have conditions."
Even though it was a lie, just saying those words made her feel sick. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
"My father," she continued through gritted teeth, closing her eyes as if to steel herself. "When he wakes up, you must release him."
The knight, Kantadar, let out a bark of laughter. The sound was harsh and dripping with condescension. He glanced at his men, shaking his head.
"Is that what you're worried about?" he sneered. "Girl, if you had just played nice earlier, we wouldn't be having this conversation. The Baron doesn't care about your father. He wants you."
He gave her a leering smile, confident now that the girl had finally cracked. To him, it was only a matter of time before she surrendered completely, like any woman would when her weakness was exposed.
"Still," he shrugged, "I'm not the one who makes the final decision here. That's up to the Baron." With a lazy wave of his halberd, he gestured toward Leon and the others. "One of you, go tell the Baron the girl's agreed to warm his bed."
Though Olivia couldn't understand the exact words spoken in the Feru language, the smugness in the knight's tone told her everything she needed to know. Her stomach churned as she glared at the ground, feeling the weight of his contempt.
Before anyone could move, she cut in sharply. "Wait." Her voice was louder now, filled with a defiance that startled even herself. "You think I'll just wait here for your leader to come? You think I'll do that here?" Her eyes flashed with fury as she took a step forward, her posture bold.
Kantadar blinked, his sneer faltering for a moment before he scoffed.
"Ah, what now?" He raised an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Such a troublesome girl. You want privacy? What, should we build you a new house to meet the Baron in? We have rooms upstairs. Just pick one." His tone was mocking, clearly impatient with the entire situation.
But Olivia stood her ground, her defiance unwavering despite the armed men surrounding her. She was playing a dangerous game, but it was the only one she had left.
Olivia's breath caught in her throat as her resolve wavered. Her gaze flickered to the ground, unwilling to meet the knight's eyes. She clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening painfully around the hilt of her sword. The shame and humiliation swelled in her chest, but she forced herself to speak, her voice low and strained.
"Take me to see your master," she muttered, her words laced with bitterness. "At least... don't make me say these despicable things in front of my father."
The knight with the halberd scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. "Pretentious," he sneered, watching the girl struggle to contain her anger. He could see the fire in her eyes, the tightness in her grip. For a moment, he worried she might snap, that her rage would drive her to take her own life right then and there. That would be a disaster.
The Baron had taken a particular interest in her, and Kantadar knew the consequences of delivering her dead. He wouldn't risk that.
"Fine," he relented with a casual wave of his hand. "But if you're willing to compromise, drop the sword. I won't let you get anywhere near the Baron with a weapon in hand." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
Olivia hesitated, her mind racing. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Her plan was slipping from her control, but she couldn't let them see that. With a calculated frown, she furrowed her brow and forced an expression of reluctant compliance. She needed to buy time, to keep the ruse going.
She let out a frustrated sigh, tossing the sword aside with a feigned air of resignation. The blade hit the floor with a metallic clang, sliding across the stone floor until it stopped near Leon's feet.
Leon, ever the quick thinker, understood the signal immediately. Without missing a beat, he tensed, lifting his own sword and pointing it towards Olivia, as if to guard against her. Then, with a careful motion, he picked up her discarded weapon, pretending to confiscate it for safekeeping.
The knight, oblivious to the subtle exchange, chuckled smugly. "Now that's more like it," he said, the arrogance clear in his tone. He felt more confident now that Olivia was unarmed, certain she no longer posed a threat.
But Kantadar wasn't one to take chances. His suspicion lingered, and he wasn't about to let her out of his sight just yet. Stepping closer, he raised his axe, pressing the cold blade against Olivia's neck. The sharpness of the metal bit into her skin, though not enough to cut; just enough to remind her who held the power.
"That's not enough," he growled, his eyes narrowing. "I want her hands tied. Go find me a rope and bind her wrists." He barked the order at the servants and mercenaries standing nearby.
Olivia's pulse quickened. She could feel the blade at her throat, the danger pressing in around her. Panic began to bubble inside her chest, but she fought to keep her expression steady. She couldn't understand what the knight had said in Uriah, but the sudden shift in tension was clear. What was happening? She glanced desperately at Leon and Liam, hoping for a clue, but neither of them moved.
Fortunately, Brandon was quick to act. He had been standing nearby, watching the scene unfold with a calculating eye. Hearing the knight's order, he scanned the room and spotted a coil of rope near a pile of sacks. Without hesitation, he darted over, grabbing the rope before the other attendants could react.
Olivia's heart pounded as she watched Brandon approach, the rope in his hands. She didn't dare look too closely at him, didn't want to give anything away, but she knew he was on her side. She just needed to hold on a little longer.
The knight raised an eyebrow at her. "What's the matter, girl?" he taunted. "Do you really think I'm going to let you near the Baron without precautions? You might be unarmed, but who knows what tricks you have up your sleeve. You're strong; too strong. Maybe you've learned hand-to-hand combat. I'm not taking any chances."
Olivia forced herself to remain calm, even as she felt Brandon move behind her, slipping the rope around her wrists. She let out a low growl of frustration, clenching her fists tightly as he began to tie the knots.
"Coward," she spat through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing with anger.
The knight laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. "Coward?" he repeated with amusement. "I'm just being smart, girl. I'm not about to send a wild, untamed beast to my lord's bed without a leash."
As the knight's laughter echoed through the room, Brandon worked quickly, binding Olivia's wrists with the rope. His hands moved deftly, but there was a subtle gentleness in his touch, a silent promise that this wasn't over.
With her wrists tied and the knight's arrogance filling the air, Olivia closed her eyes, swallowing the bitter taste of her own helplessness. But deep inside, a quiet resolve burned. This game wasn't over, not yet.
Using the cover of Olivia's body, Brandon worked quickly and discreetly. His hands moved with practiced skill as he tied a hidden slipknot at the end of the rope, ensuring that the knight couldn't see his movements from the angle he stood. With a subtle poke to Olivia's palm, he passed her the loose end of the knot, signaling her to pull when the moment was right.
Olivia's fingers curled around the end of the rope, understanding immediately. She folded her hands together, hiding the slipknot within her palms, masking the lifeline Brandon had just handed her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, offering a faint, nearly imperceptible nod of thanks.
Leon, standing just off to the side, caught the exchange. Relief washed over him. The plan, despite the mounting tension, was holding together.
"Is that enough for you? Or would you like to tie my feet as well?" Olivia's voice dripped with contempt as she opened her eyes, locking her gaze with the knight's. Her lips twisted into a cold, mocking smile.
The knight threw his head back and laughed, clearly amused by her defiance. "Hahaha, no need for that," he chuckled, lifting the axe blade from her neck with a grin. "Let's go." He waved a hand toward his servants, motioning for them to take hold of Olivia by the arms.
He turned his attention to the three mercenaries standing nearby, his eyes settling on one in particular. "You," he ordered, pointing a gloved finger, "stay here and keep an eye on the old man." The unconscious blacksmith lay slumped in the corner of the room, oblivious to the dangerous game unfolding around him.
Liam, unable to understand the knight's command in Uriah, looked to Brandon for a clue. His eyes, hidden behind the mask, searched for some indication of what was happening. He needed to know how to play his part.
"What are you staring at?" Brandon barked, pushing Liam's shoulder roughly, playing up his role. "Haven't you had enough of gawking at the blonde? The master told you to stay, so stay!" He gestured toward the old blacksmith, shouting with mock authority.
Liam's gaze followed Brandon's subtle signal; he noticed the slight movement of Brandon's finger tapping the ground near the blacksmith. The message was clear. Liam quickly nodded, responding with an exaggerated, guttural grunt: "Ang ang!" the only bit of the Uriah language he had managed to learn.
The knight, satisfied with the exchange, moved on without a second thought. Liam was left behind to guard the blacksmith while the others, surrounding Olivia, escorted her out of the house.
Leon, walking just behind Olivia, gripped her sword in one hand while resting the tip of his dagger lightly against her shoulder with the other. The cold steel was more for show than threat, but it added to the illusion that they were all still playing their roles. His nerves were on edge, but there was a hint of relief stirring inside him. Things hadn't gone exactly as planned, but somehow, they were managing to pull this off.
More surprising, the knight hadn't left anyone behind to guard the blacksmith. That was an unexpected stroke of luck. It meant they wouldn't need to devise an excuse to return later and free the hostage. With the blacksmith unguarded, Liam could act without interference.
Now, only one final target remained.
Liam watched from the doorway as the group disappeared around the corner of the street. His sharp eyes scanned the area, making sure there were no other knights lingering in the shadows. Satisfied that no one had stayed behind, he gave it a few more moments, ensuring the coast was clear. No one was coming back.
Once he was certain they were alone, Liam quickly spun around and darted back into the house. His boots thudded softly against the floor as he hurried over to the unconscious blacksmith. He crouched down, carefully lifting the man's strong, heavy upper body. At first, Liam thought he'd carry the blacksmith out, but then his gaze fell on a large sack lying on the floor beneath him.
A plan formed in his mind. It wasn't the most elegant solution, but it would work.
"I'm sorry about this," he muttered under his breath, knowing the blacksmith couldn't hear him.
With swift precision, Liam hoisted the old man into the sack, folding his body inside as gently as he could. Once secured, he slung the sack over his shoulder, grunting slightly at the weight. The blacksmith was no small man, but Liam was strong, and adrenaline was surging through his veins.
Now it was just a matter of getting him out; without anyone noticing.
Liam, moving with practiced efficiency, quickly poked a few small holes into the sack for ventilation. Once satisfied, he hoisted the large bundle over his shoulder, the weight of the unconscious blacksmith pressing down on him. He stepped out of the house with a swagger, trying to emulate the casual arrogance of a kidnapper, like one of the many soldiers from the Kantadar ranks who would drag away unfortunate souls. But unlike them, his sack didn't contain a crying girl or a terrified victim, it held an unconscious old man, a precious part of their plan.
As Liam made his way toward the spot where their horse was hidden, he tried to move as inconspicuously as possible. But the village streets were narrow, and his timing unlucky. Just as he turned a corner into a shadowy alley, he came face to face with a group of Kantadar soldiers.
"Hey, brother!" one of the mercenary cavalrymen called out, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous smirk. "What beauty do you have in that sack? Trying to keep her hidden from the rest of us?" His tone was lewd, the kind of mocking camaraderie typical among soldiers who were used to stealing and pillaging.
Liam felt a surge of cold fury rise within him, but he swallowed it down, keeping his expression hidden behind the mask. He nodded curtly, masking his irritation with a grunt, responding with a simple "Ang ang" the only phrase in Uriah he'd mastered so far. The soldiers took it as confirmation and laughed among themselves, giving him a knowing look before moving aside to let him pass.
They didn't bother prying further. After all, in their brutal world, there were unspoken rules, even among marauders. A man's spoils were his own, and comrades typically respected those boundaries. Liam's appearance; a mercenary with a heavy sack slung over his shoulder, was enough to keep their curiosity at bay.
Relieved to be free of their gaze, Liam continued on his path, though his body remained taut with tension. Every step felt like a gamble, but luck was on his side as he made it to the small yard where the horse was tied. Quickly, he lifted the old blacksmith onto the horse's back, securing him before untying the reins.
Mounting the horse, Liam made sure to keep his movements calm and steady, guiding the horse at a leisurely pace through the village. His heart pounded in his chest as he passed more Kantadar soldiers on patrol. None of them gave him more than a passing glance. To them, he was just another mercenary, likely looking for a place to vent his violence on an unfortunate captive.
With each clop of the horse's hooves, Liam edged closer to freedom. As soon as he reached the outskirts of the village, leaving the oppressive weight of the watchful soldiers behind, he gave a quick flick of the reins. The horse surged forward, breaking into a gallop as they headed into the dense woods nearby. The trees blurred past, the wind whipping through Liam's hair as they raced toward safety.
Once he was deep enough into the woods, far from prying eyes, Liam slowed the horse. They reached a low, grassy slope, hidden from view. Here, he dismounted, carefully lowering the old blacksmith's sack to the ground. Liam hurried to unbutton the sack, his breath catching in his throat as he peered inside.
The old man was still breathing, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Liam let out a sigh of relief, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. Olivia's father was safe, for now.
But the mission was far from over. His companions were still in danger, trapped in the hands of the enemy. Liam couldn't afford to linger. Without wasting another second, he helped the old blacksmith hide behind a thick patch of grass near the slope, ensuring he was out of sight.
With a final glance to make sure the blacksmith was concealed, Liam remounted his horse and turned back toward the village. His heart pounded, but his focus was sharp. He would have to return quickly, but stealthily, to rescue Olivia and the others.
As the horse galloped through the thick woods, the sunlight filtering through the trees cast fleeting shadows over the path. Liam's mind raced as fast as the horse beneath him. Suddenly, a strange sound cut through the steady rhythm of hoofbeats, a sound that seemed to ripple through the air, like wind slicing against something massive.
Liam's head snapped up, his gaze darting sideways in confusion. What could it be? As he scanned the sky, his breath caught in his throat. Far in the distance, silhouetted against the horizon, was a massive object gliding across the sky. Its shadow loomed over the treetops, moving with an unnatural grace.
Liam's eyes widened in disbelief, his pulse quickening. What in the world was that? Whatever it was, it wasn't something ordinary.