The package had been delivered. That was all that mattered. Beaten and bloody though he was, he knew that as a fact. The job was done. Now he needed to get back.
The job was supposed to be easy. Pick up the package, travel to a grove to elm trees near Nen Harn, and leave the package in a knothole in the north facing tree. Siegweard could not fathom why his employer would pay so much for such an easy task. But it was not for Sieg to question the ways of the wealthy and powerful.
Sieg was surprised when the job offer came. He did not know the true identity of his employer, the job offer her some through a middle man finding Sieg at the Pony one evening But the job was simple and the pay was good Sieg could hardly say no.
The package was at a dead drop near the Prancing Pony stables Sieg was directed to an out of the way area near the stables and retrieved the small, wrapped package from an otherwise empty barrel. From there made his way into the Chetwood, following a specific set of directions until he reached the grove near Nen Harn.
The trouble came when he was about a mile from the dead drop location. He was met by five men, brigands for all Sieg knew, armed with knives and clubs. Unfortunately, Sieg had never learned to back away from a fight. His gloves were thick, with metal lining the glove exterior. They were designed to allow him not only to deal damage in unarmed combat, but to deflect and sometimes even catch blades as they were swung.
He was superficially cut several times as he aggressively attacked his assailants. Unfortunately for Sieg there were five of them and only one of him. And they knew how to fight far better than most of the street toughs Sieg was accustomed to fighting.
The fight was over in a minute. No words were spoken. It was as if all the men knew their role for this bloody play. Sieg disarmed the two with knives straight away, intercepting a swing with his heavy gloves and knocking the knife out of the other hands with a precise strike. He broke the nose of two of his attackers and the arm of another. He shattered the knee cap of a fourth kick a vicious kick, causing to drop the cudgel with which he was armed. All the while Siegweard took injuries. A cut to the face and arm. Blows to his head and body. He was in rough shape by the time he squared off with the fifth brigand, who was the largest of the five.
The fifth brigand was ugly to the point they Sieg hazily wondered if he had orc blood. The two circled each other warily. The orc-man pulled a long and nasty looking dagger from a sheath. Sieg did not hesitate, but struck with a low kick to the man’s knee. His kick, lightning fast, connected with the orc-man’s kneecap but did not appear to cause any injury or pain.
The orc-man slashed across the body, leaving a deep gash in the leather across Sieg’s chest. Blood began to seep from the gash, and Sieg knows he was wounded even before he felt the pain.
In a blur he hailed a flurry of blows upon the orc-man’s head, followed by a mighty uppercut that sent the man flying backwards. He laid unconscious on the ground. With his assailants dispatched Sieg retreated quickly. After trudging through the forest for a mile he found the grove. His chest still bleeding and his mind growing fuzzy, he deposited the package into the dead drop.
Thr job was done. Now it was time to get back to Bree. There was a house he had to get to. He stumbled forward, crashing through the words blithely. No attempt at stealth or silence was made. Sieg simply put one foot in front of the other, hoping against hope he’d soon find the road that would lead him home.
That was three days ago. The chat wound was, fortunately, not deep and Sieg was able to wash it. He even found some of the herbs Ethel had shown him to assist in the healing process. There were not enough to treat all his wounds, but he did get the chewed up paste in the worst of them. He had been following the road ever since he found it. Was that one or two days ago? He couldn’t remember. He hid when he saw others on the road so as not to attract attention. He just needed an inn, he thought, a place to sleep.
If only he could get to her house…
