"Hey uh, Savaran, old buddy?  How about loosening these ropes?" Bennie's complaints accompanied his struggle against the knots holding his wrists to the horn of his mount's saddle.  Still hobbled from Daria's arrow, since removed, to its ass, the horse plodded along.  His falcon, Lenore, stood stoic watch on the ball of rope securing his hands.

"I'm dumb," Savaran said. "But not stupid, Bennie."

"I agree with Daria," Traven eyed their captive with the utmost suspicion.  "If you ask me—"

"Don't think I did.  You good for nothing little twat."

"Hey," Daria shot back at the former general.  "Leave the boy alone.  Just because he's actually got the brains to know this idea of yours is stupid as fucking a leprotic whore is no reason to take your frustration out on him."

Savaran's eyebrow raised.  "Did you just stand up for Traven?"

"I did," she smiled.

"Thanks." Traven nodded in response.

"Don't mention it." Daria returned the same acknowledgement to the former prince and added a wink.  "Savaran must have left his brains back on the road somewhere."

Distressed and annoyed no one was on his side, Savaran growled out his defense, "Why are you acting like this is some stupid idea?" 

"Because it is?" Traven's accusation was blunt.

"Second that," Daria threw in.

"Look," as his mount strode down the road and jostled him, Savaran sought to explain himself. "If we go into Shon through the front door, we might as well just invite every piece of filth in that city to take a shot at us.  Traven's right.  Shon is Karis's element.  We'd never even make it to him."

"I can tell you right now, Bennie's going to double-cross us the very first chance he gets.  And I know something about double-crosses."

"No I won't." Their prisoner protested, but the way he continued to fiddle with his restraints wasn't missed by the rest of the party.

"Yes you will," said the ex-prince, reinforcing his and Daria's fears.  Also growing more and more perturbed with, what he saw as, Savaran's lack of clear thinking.

"I'm well aware of what Bennie will do," Savaran said, agreeing.  "But it's risk versus reward.  I'll risk having to cut Bennie's throat when he betrays us for the reward of getting Karis to talk and clear our names."

Head bowed in defeat, Savaran's former and once again associate gave up on trying to free his hands. "Why's everyone assuming I'm such a dick?"

"Because, Bennie, you are one."  Then Savaran said, "If I were you, I'd quit while you're behind and shut the fuck up."

"You really think he knows another way in?" Daria asked.

Savaran directed a straightforward question to Bennie.  "You do know a way in, right? Tell me now if you don't, because I'll kill you for not being of any use to us. Either now or when we find out you've lied."

That caused the cutthroat to perk up.  "Of course I do.  Several!"

Nodding, Savaran allowed a sense of smugness to wash over him.  "See?  Told you he was useful."

Traven shook his head.  "I feel like we're close.  I mean, really close to getting our lives back."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, I think—" The sight of a disheveled crowd shambling at a noticeably slow pace down the road towards them caused Savaran's thought to pause in mid-sentence.  "What do we have here?" 

In all, there were about twenty men and women, with a smattering of children amongst the gathering.  Each wasn't exactly dressed to impress, possessing an assortment of clothes barely better than rags.   And most noticeably, not a bit of supplies for a journey among them. Reining in their party, Savaran awaited their approach.

Leaning across his saddle, he greeted them.  "Howdy there."  He flicked a two-fingered salute out from his forehead as they came within a few feet.  "What brings you out here this day, fine citizens?"

"We ain't got nothing left," a man at the fore, about thirty or so years of age, spoke up.  "Ain't nothing for you to steal from us too."

"My good sir," Savaran said with a hitch in his voice, taken aback at the accusation. "I assure you, we have no intention of stealing anything from you."

"Well..." Daria smirked her response.

"My associate jokes."  He cast her a you'd-better-keep-your-yap-quiet type look and returned to addressing the crowd.  "I am sensing by your response that you've already met bandits upon this road?"

"Aye.  A day ago.  Took everything but what we have here.  Horses.  Three carts of supplies.  Four covered wagons.  We were heading west, out to Havandale.  The king out there is giving land away.  Needs settlers.  Thought it'd be a good, fresh start for us."

"Heading west you say?"  Savaran sent a wary glance Bennie's way, while his prisoner cast his eyes even further downward, telling the former general everything he needed to know.  Bennie was the "spotter" for the group of bandits these folks had run in to.  And he was signaling ahead with Lenore when possible marks went by.  Part of Savaran wanted to let these people have their pound of flesh from him, but that wouldn't help them get into Shon, or to Karis.

"So," Daria chimed in, asking the man speaking for the group a very blunt question.  "You don't have anything? Not even a piece of gold among you?"

"Not a one."

She shook her head.  "I don't think we can help.  We aren't running a charity here."

"Daria!" Savaran gave her a scolding like a parent to a child.

"It's true.  The Inglorious Brotherhood doesn't work for free.  It's against our charter."

"We don't have a—"  Savaran's hand immediately went to his forehead to rub it.  "You know I hate—"

"Did you say the Inglorious Brotherhood?" The man speaking for the people asked.

"Indeed, I did." Daria beamed.  "Seems you've heard of us?"

The man nodded.  "I overheard someone talking about you a few days back.  Stopped at a place just outside of Last to resupply before heading on the final leg of our journey.  Guy had this flyer and—"

"Wait." Savaran leaned forward and eyed the man who cowered a bit and stopped rambling.  Then he sent a penetrating gaze in Daria's direction.  "We have flyers?"

With a shrug, Daria stared off down the road.  "I thought it would be good for promotion."  She then fumbled around in her pack and produced one, which she handed to the former general.

In bold letters was the name Savaran was torn between finding equally brilliant and disgusting.  But what really took the cake was that there were allusions to their identities.  And while maybe the nickname of "King Killer" and "Traven the Murderous" alone might not have been enough to tip someone off, the fact that they were alongside two sketches of them, poor sketches yes, but sketches none-the-less, was enough for someone with more than two active brain cells to connect the dots.

"Why did you do this?"  Crumpling up the flier, he shook it at Daria.  "Are you insane?"

"I prefer to think of myself as rather brilliant."  She beamed, full of herself.

"Everyone will know who we are once these get circulated!"  He then uncrumpled the notice and realized that there was no picture of her.  Only the nickname 'Lady R'.  "This is just great! We've got enough trouble and you—"

"Excuse me."  The man heading up the group of refugees cut in.  "I don't mean to interrupt your little argument.  But, we've discussed it and, if you're willing to help us and get our possessions back, we're willing to pay you."

Savaran had to blink himself out of his growing rage.  Focused on Daria, he had completely forgotten about these people and their plight.

Before he could say anything, Daria chimed in.  "How much?"

"Well, ma'am, we had about fifty gold pieces between us.  Maybe another two hundred silvers.  But the thieves got all of it.  You get it back, along with the rest of our stuff, and we'll pay you."

"Fifty percent."

The declaration by Daria drew gasps from the crowd, forcing Savaran to find his voice.  "Ten percent.  That's the standard finder's fee."

"Ten percent?  Now you're the one that's insane.  That's not even two gold for each of us.  And silver?  Well, I only deal in silver with friends."

"Look at these people!" Savaran decided it was time to flip the script on Daria. She'd controlled of this whole 'Inglorious Brotherhood' thing for far too long.  Puffing out his chest, he decided if Daria insisted on this charade, then he'd play along.  "You would decimate them financially?  The Inglorious Brotherhood was formed to help those most in need.  Fight injustice.  Right wrongs."  He was just vamping, stalling for time until what he said made enough sense to convince someone.  Maybe even himself.  "We will not violate our sworn oaths!"  Then he turned to the man and the crowd.  "Ten percent.  Say yes, and we have a deal."

Without hesitation, and before Daria could object, the man responded.  "Yes."