5
Kayman and Kalen moved as swiftly and quietly as their legs would carry them, though the old wooden stairs leading into the common room creaked on more than one occasion. The warrior had the tiny metal box tucked under his arm; his free hand was clutching the hilt of the ancient sword buckled around his waist. There was no light to speak of from oil lamps or candles, and the brothers dared not light their own. The innkeeper had left Kalen just minutes ago; Kayman hoped the grimy old man wasn’t off turning them in to whoever lorded over Forrenwake now. There was still a small chance that his brother had been mistaken. Jame had seemed a friendly enough fellow, though it wouldn’t be the first time a man had turned on them without a moment’s notice.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and made their way through a short corridor into the common room when the warrior heard something whisk past him, just grazing his cheek. The object slammed into the wall behind him and crashed to the floor. The clank of metal against the wooden planks below told him that a knife had been thrown, and thankfully the owner had mostly missed.
“Get down, Kalen!” The words left the warrior’s lips before he had time to think. He heard his brother scrambling for cover and did the same. Thick curtains had been drawn over every window in the common room; it was dark as pitch. Kayman wasn’t even sure how the attacker had known where to throw the knife. Perhaps he had simply aimed in the general direction of the noise. Either way, the warrior did not want to allow for any more chances. He hit the ground and rolled. Something warm and wet trickled down his face, but he did his best to ignore the flow of blood, thinking it was nothing more than a scratch. Kayman collided with the leg of one of the inn’s thick tables and scrambled underneath for cover. He heard another knife whirl through the air and stick into the floor just to the left of where he was crouched.
“What have we done to deserve this?” Kayman asked. “We’re simply passing through. We mean no harm to anyone.”
The answer came in the form of a third knife, this time coming closer than ever to reaching its mark. Kayman reached out and seized its hilt, taking care not to touch the blade. He had seen daggers with poisoned tips more than once during his travels, although he supposed that if these blades had been treated, the first one would have done him in. It was still better to be careful. He briefly thought about hurling the knife in the general direction of the attacker, but changed his mind. At best, he would get in a lucky throw. At worst, he would accidentally hit Kalen. He would never forgive himself if he hurt his brother.
He was just about to sneak out from underneath the table when he heard a loud groan, followed by the sound of something—or someone—heavy hitting the floor.
“Kalen? Kalen! Are you there?”
A sliver of moonlight poured into the room through a nearby window. Kayman looked up from his hiding spot and saw a slender silhouette that could have only belonged to one person.
“I’m fine,” Kalen called. “He, on the other hand, is not.”
The warrior scrambled to his feet and made his way to the window. Their attacker was lying on the floor with a knife in his chest.
It was the innkeeper.
“I think we made him nervous,” Kalen said. “I’m guessing that he wasn’t taking any chances with us, either.”
“But why would he attack us without any help?” Kayman scratched his head.
“Probably because he’s already sent for help and wanted to keep us here. That would explain why the curtains were drawn. If we tried to escape, he would be able to use the darkness to his advantage and keep us here until help arrived. What did I tell you, Kayman? He had it in for us the moment he learned we had friends associated with the temple.”
