"I don't know," Savaran took a slurpping bite from his recently purchased apple. "Maybe it's just me, but Shon seems nicer than last time I was here." His snack was a little overripe. But not quite to the point of rotting. The fact that he even found a stall with such a prize amazed him.

"This is nicer?" While they walked, Traven hopped on one foot, attempting to dig some horseshit out of the sole of his boot with a stick. The street was lined with dilapidated stands and vendors hawking all sorts of wares from hastily constructed venues. The place smelled awful to the prince's nose.

Daria shrugged. "It's definitely improved a notch. Not much. But a little."

Flies buzzed around one vendor selling meat. Another peddler sighed as a pack of emaciated and mangy dogs sat begging for a scrap from loaves of his bread. They waited, tongues hanging out, hoping he'd turn away for a second to deal with a customer and allow them to swipe a prize.

Hoods draped over their heads, none of the three newcomers dared show their faces clearly. Someone might recognize them, and they all assumed word had spread this far about the king killers on the loose.

As they were, they looked like a band of thieves stalking prey. But, to be honest, they fit right in.

"Call me skeptical," Traven said. He finished clearing off as much of the feces as he could before giving up. "But I don't think our horses will be there when we head back to the stable to pick them up."

"You can trust Old Kelb," Bennie made an attempt at reassuring him. However, the way he kept his eyes moving at all times, combined with a hand on the hilt of his dagger, spoke to the amount of distrust even Bennie had for those inhabiting this city. "He won't stiff us. He's the only stable in town where you can count on your horse not being sold for meat the second you step out that door."

"Horse is good eating," Savaran replied. He finished off the entire apple; even the core. "Nice and lean. Tender with a hint of sweetness."

Traven offered up his assessment of the comment. "A good horse is too valuable to eat."

"Sometimes you don't have a choice. When the supply lines are cut, and the enemy is threating to encircle you? Got to make sure your men have meat to fill their bellies and get them ready for battle."

"Old horses don't have any use other than meat," Daria said. "Better to eat them than let die and go to waste. Too many people starving across the continent to worry about sensibilities. Besides, more people are willing to eat a horse than their dogs."

"Or their cats," Bennie said.

Smiling, Savaran couldn't quite put his finger on why he found the conversation intriguing. Only that he did. "You ever try catching a cat that didn't want to be caught, Bennie?" he said. "Damn near impossible. Got to shoot the sucker. Dogs are dumb. Loyal, but dumb. They'll come walking right up to you for a nice scratch as you're holding the meat cleaver in the other hand, ready to do them in. Nothing that the prince would understand. Until we went on the run? He was fed only the finest foods."

"You're telling me since you've been on the run, the boy ain't eaten horse or dog?"

"Oh, he has." Savaran smiled. "He just didn't know it. I didn't want him gagging. Meat's meat when you don't know what it is." He gave Traven a wink. "That night we met up with Daria was some of the finest."

Traven bowed his head a little lower. "Could have told me," he complained. "When you're hungry, it don't matter much. Long as it tastes good."

Savaran laughed. "Maybe someday I'll take you to Ful. Where they take prisoners on the battlefield only so they can cook them up later to celebrate their victories. I've got friends there. Well, more like casual acquaintances. Maybe I can arrange for you to attend one of their feasts?"

That thought made Traven's stomach turn. "Savages," he spat.

"Savages or not, they've kicked the asses of all who've even thought about possibly invading their lands." Realizing he'd gotten sidetracked, Savaran decided to refocus. "So where we headed, Bennie? Ain't seen that bird of yours lately."

"Head towards the center of town," Bennie replied. "We're set up in the underground. Couple ways to get in, but, any time we bring in new recruits we've got to take them in through The Manor. The main entrance. Lenore's got a roost up on top. Probably already there. No one gets to know all the secret ways in until they are trusted. If I try to sneak you in those backways? Karis will know something's up."

"So what are the odds that we get to waltz right on in?"

"Depends on who's on duty today. If it's Balon or Kon, well, they both know you. So we'd have to wait until at least the guards change. Unless you want to make a public announcement that you've come."

"Balon and Kon, huh? I remember those two. Used to have a real beef with Mav and that gal Shelle he hung out with. They always found her way of talking to animals sort of unnatural. Whatever happened to them?"

"Don't know," Bennie said. "Lost track of them after the gnolls got routed for good."

"I heard they headed north," Daria added.

"You mean to the elven lands?"

"Not that far north." Daria provided some clarification. "Just to the mountains. Those two were good, but they weren't foolish enough to trod upon elven soil."

Savaran once more wrangled the conversation back to more important matters. "OK, so we go to this place you call 'The Manor', and hopefully no one is there that recognizes mine or the prince's gorgeous mugs. Then what?"

"Well?" Bennie rubbed his chin. "Once we're in, that's the hard part out of the way. Karis is going to want to meet you and approve you, so he'll come to us."

"I love it when they serve themselves up on a platter. How many goons will he have with him?"

"Maybe eight? And the guards, no matter who they are, will confiscate your weapons. But that's OK." Bennie pulled a paper mache ball from his pocket.

"That what I think it is?"

"One of my special noxious smoke bombs. Just make sure to cover your mouth and nose before it goes off."

"So you're going to set that sucker off, and, while they're gagging, we'll take them out." Savaran had to admit, "That's a good plan, Bennie."

"Thanks, Savaran."

"I don't like it," Daria griped. "Too smooth. Karis isn't going to get taken by surprise that easily. The man's ultra paranoid. And way too careful."

Savaran considered her concern. "But Bennie's a lapdog. Remember? He'd never suspect Bennie would betray him."

Daria shook her head in disapproval. "Pretty sure Karis didn't take over this whole city by not being his usual, careful and overly paranoid self. I don't like the thought of going in unarmed. That'd be like walking into a hornet's nest without even so much as a fly swatter."

"Well, I don't know how else we're going to get close enough to Karis."

"Got my bow." Daria pattad her back. "All I need to know is when he'll pop his little head out of his hole."

If the idea of sitting in a sniper's nest sounded appealing, Bennie was quick to cast cold water on it. "Rarely. Going in is the best way to get to him. Otherwise we could be waiting a while. And the longer we wait around here? The worse it will be for us. Especially since my entire crew is dead."

"Not everyone." Savaran slapped Bennie on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him. "You're still among the living."

"Well, we were due to be back in town in another four days. They don't show up by then and Karis will start asking questions."

"And how are you going to justify returning early?"

"Bringing you guys in. While the rest of the gang is packing up camp and preparing to ride home."

Savaran made a considerate look upon hearing the explanation. "Plausible."

"Dicey," Daria griped. "Lots of ways this can go wrong."

"We're the Inglorious Fucking Brotherhood," Savaran reminded her. "We always come out on top."

"Oh, boy." She facepalmed at the statement. "You're really starting to get annoying with all this rah rah bullshit. You know that?"

Bennie held them up as the building they sought came into view. A square three story stack of lumber painted the ugliest shade of puke green. Right on the corner of the city's two main streets.

"That the place?" Savaran asked.

"That's it," Bennie confirmed. "And we're in luck. None of your old war pals on duty. This'll be easy." Bennie straightened his hat, sucked in a deep breath, and continued making his way towards the building with a growing sense of confidence.

"Not my choice of color," Savaran chuckled.

"Nor Karis's either. Former owner's decision. Just like at the gate, follow my lead."

At the door stood three men. Two were brutes—hired muscle good for nothing but breaking noses and cracking skulls. The third was a gangly fellow whose persona oozed thief and murderer.

"Hey there, Jero," Bennie greeted the smaller of the three. The scoundrel. "Got some new recruits I think Karis is going to love." He chucked a finger at each of those he'd brought with him. Still with their faces mostly covered.

"You're back a few days early," Jero questioned. "Saw Lenore head for her roost on the roof about an hour ago. So figured you'd be tailing behind."

"Crew's breaking up camp. Bringing in the haul. Picked up these three on the road looking for work. Told them Karis is always searching for scum willing to do just about anything and smart enough to not ask questions."

Jero looked them over, spotting the swords each of them carried immediately. As well as Savaran's temporary bow. "You know the rules, Bennie. No weapons for newcomers."

"Yeah, right. All right, you guys, hand me those swords and anything else you've got. At least until the boss approves you to be carrying them."

Savaran stripped off his bow and sword, starting to hand them to Jero when he paused. "You'd better take good care of these," he warned as though they meant something more special to him than they did. Realizing that to just turn them over would be out of character for a mercenary who supposedly made a living by killing.

"Don't see nothing special about them," Jero replied as he reached out to take them. For a moment, Savaran feigned like he didn't plan on letting go, the two of them both standing there holding on to the sword and bow.

Jero tugged, and Savaran held fast.

"That sword," Bennie ad libbed, "was bathed in the blood from the first man he ever killed." Bennie mock reassured Savaran using a false name. "It's ok, Deveron. I give you my word it'll be safe."

"You'd better," Savaran snarled. "That blade is life sworn to me."

"Life sworn?" Jero asked, abruptly removing his hand from the weapon. "He's Eranian?"

"Aye," Bennie continued to weave the false tale. "A follower of the Old Ways. A believer that the blood of the first enemy you kill in battle contains their very soul. And power."

Jero looked nervous upon hearing the confirmation. "All of them?" he asked. "They're all Eranian?"

"Yes."

"I see." Jero retreated. "I'm sorry," he addressed Savaran, but who was known to him as Deveron. "I meant no disrespect."

Savaran drew the weapon back to him. "Your simple mind could not comprehend our ways and the truths of battle. Or why they are." Savaran knew the ways of the Eranians. He'd spent time with them, and he tried to channel what he'd learned of their mannerisms into a convincing performance.

It seemed to be working, and Jero was perplexed as to how to proceed.

Taking the weapon of an Eranian warrior would be an affront that could lead to a duel to the death. But he also couldn't allow them to proceed unless they were unarmed. The only person who could request to hold an Eranian's weapon was one who had fought with them and proved themselves in battle.

Savaran twisted towards Bennie. "You may hold it. I grant you permission, honorable warrior."

Without missing a beat, Bennie accepted. All while Jero gave a quizzical look that spoke to his deeper thoughts of, 'Honorable warrior? Is he really talking about Bennie?'

"It would be my honor," Bennie said. "To hold and keep your most precious weapons safe."

In silence, Savaran turned over his sword with a reverence befitting a true Eranian. His acting must have been good, because none of the goons at the door questioned it. And they looked like they were itching to fight someone.

Daria and Traven followed suit, picking up on a silent cue to follow his lead. It was a sight to watch Bennie fumble to hold all the steel he was now burdened with. But he managed. Clumsily, but managed.

"You two," Jero said to the brutes. "Keep watch. I will go and find Karis and let him know Bennie is back. Don't let anyone else in. Got that? Not until I get back. Tell them we're closed until the afternoon."

"Yes, boss," they replied in a deep toned unison.

Jero went inside and on ahead.

Bennie motioned that the other members of the Inglorious Brotherhood should enter as well.

Once inside, and once Jero was well ahead of them down the hall, Bennie began distributing the weapons back to their rightful owners. "Told you to follow my lead," Bennie snapped with a voice that told of his annoyance at the play acting that had gone on.

"Improvisation," Savaran smiled, re-securing his sword to his waist. "Always have to be thinking on your feet. Didn't want them searching Daria and finding that bow of hers. Needed a way to keep their hands off us."

Daria cracked her knuckles. "I'd have broken their fingers if they would have laid one hand on me."

She was serious.

And Savaran was well aware of it. "Exactly why I did what I did. Not too many people would dare to touch an Eranian or their weapons. Lead the way, Bennie."

And with that said, Bennie pushed to the front to do just that. "Follow me."