The sun was well on its way to midday, but the chill of expectation hovered in the air around the table.
Alfrenzo sat facing Dallast in a small open courtyard behind the warehouse. Between them sat a bottle of wine. The mercenaries -- Throne, Kaela, Druce, Reeve, Gregor, and Gilt -- huddled in various positions around them, acting indifferent but observing every motion with careful scrutiny.
Dallast stiffly raised his cup, still narrowing his eyes. "I must say, Alfrenzo, your shipments arrived this day... sooner than I anticipated."
Alfrenzo poured himself a drink and swirled it slowly. "I prefer to operate with efficiency, Dallast. The market rewards speed."
"The market does not reward trickery," Dallast fired back by slamming his cup down. His eyes rekindled with something more than irritation. "Do you think me some kind of fool? You think I would just deliver the mana stones without checking them first for my clients?"
Alfrenzo's smile never faltered. "I wouldn't imagine you would."
"Then explain," Dallast snarled, rising from his benched seat. "Why some of those stones were . . . fake."
Alfrenzo took a leisurely sip of wine before setting the goblet down as if he were in no hurry. "Maybe you should ask your handlers. Maybe you were had."
Dallast clenched his fist. "You are playing a very dangerous game, you senile old man." He gestured to the guards. "Take him. Alive."
Before the guards could even draw, the mercenaries erupted into action.
Kaela managed to shoot one guard in the leg with an arrow before he could raise his sword, and the guard screamed as he fell to the floor. Druce stepped forward, parrying two strikes easily, elbowing a third man in the head and knocking him out. Gregor let out a war cry as he smashed his enormous axe into the nearest table, disarming two men with the strike.
Reeva muttered something under her breath, and a sprout of water shot out of her ring, forming a whip that lashed three of Dallast's men back. Throne was calm. He was centered. He manipulated the sword with brutal efficiency, as it flickered like silver lightning. Gilt was silent as usual, although he simply appeared behind two enemies and dropped them with perfectly placed blows at the neck.
One mercenary took a spear to the side — Druce, grimacing as the blood seeped from the gash. He did not go down, however, only brought the hilt in his hand crashing home into the temple of the man that speared him before staggering back toward cover.
In less than two minutes, Dallast's small entourage was either unconscious or writhing in pain on the ground.
Dallast looked wildly about, panic filling his face. His shaking eyes landed on Alfrenzo, who sat there calmly sharpening a dagger on the crate like he had all the time in the world.
"You... you do not know what you have done," Dallast hissed. "You're dead. Robert Maynard won't--"
"Robert Maynard?" Alfrenzo interrupted. "The noble with the ruined land who has a very powerful friend in the capital? That Robert Maynard?"
Dallast nodded, with his fear and a last-ditch hope clashing meanwhile that it would have the desired effect.
But all Alfrenzo did was smile.
A loud thud announced Throne's arrival as he took a step forward and clouted Dallast over the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. The merchant dropped like a sack of flour.
By midday, the city knights were in the office of the warehouse, hearing the story from Alfrenzo, with six professional mercenaries validating it.
"He attacked you?" asked one of the knights, unsure.
"I have no reason to lie," said Alfrenzo coolly. "Dallast tried to cheat me on the deal, I wouldn't have it, and he went off the deep end. If not for my guards, I'd be sold off to the highest bidder already."
The knight looked over at Dallast, still restrained and unconscious, before sighing. "We will take him in. As long as your mercenaries can make witness statements, it will be an easy judgment".
"I'll have them set," Alfrenzo said stepping aside. "But one thing to let you know - he mentioned a name. Robert Maynard. Said he was a very powerful man, and...well, vengeful."
The knight paused for a moment, concern fleeting. "That name sounds familiar...but that's ok. We'll take precautions."
_____
Meanwhile, Hunter was following his quarry in the dimming light of dusk.
With the transaction complete, he had been able to move through the merchant districts like a ghost, listening to exchanges and deciphering clues. His investigation took him inward to the noble district — where the houses of the elite were hidden behind imposing walls and guarded gates.
Hunter could not take the obvious rout; every enforcer of these elite people was familiar with their faces and a stranger always raises a flag. He needed to watch from a distance, so he carefully studied patterns, guards, carriages, occasionally making out Maynard himself — dignified and level-headed, but bordering on paranoid.
Hunter narrowed his eyes and thought out loud, "Got you."
But even as he was absorbing his surroundings, disturbance was erupting in another location.
_____
A patrol consisting of city knights was escorting the unconscious Dallast down a trade route near the lower district when whistling arrows pierced the air. One found its mark in the captain's shoulder. He did not scream. Instead the captain dove to protect a child, shielding her with his own body as the screech of arrows continued. The escort guards raised their shields, but they did not have a chance against the number of cloaked figures that emerged from the fog, fast and silent. The knights fought with courage, forming a small tight circle in the chaos, however it was simply too late. After a couple of minutes the attackers overran their efforts.
One of them, a cloaked elf unsheathed a dagger and sliced through the bindings of Dallast, pulling the merchant away and who had only just started to understand what was happening, but the merchant was alive.
Suddenly, just as quickly as they had descended upon the knights, the attackers disappeared back into the shadows.
The saviours left behind nothing more than a single piece of evidence - a noble insignia dropped in the dirt.
When the reinforcement patrols arrived on scene, a bloodied and defeated scene awaited them. The knights had suffered deep cuts and wounds, but were alive, except for the captain who still held the insignia out with trembling hands.
"Tell... tell the commander... he came for him. Someone of importance wants him free."
Deep in the woods, beneath a tangle of branches and heavy fog, the cloaked elves came to a stop as they arrived at a clearing.
Dallast tried to push himself up but was quickly forced back down. "Where... where are we...?"
One of the elves, tall and with auburn hair, pulled down his hood.
Faren.
"Bind him. Secure the perimeter," Faren said. "Master Luenor will be here shortly."
While the elves set to work, the firelight glimmered off their blades and Dallast felt the fear in his eyes return tenfold.
This was not a rescue.
This was a delivery.