Dwarfslayer

47

They had spent the night in the capital city of the Middle Territories, Ripton, and had awaken to tides of conversation over breakfast. Everyone talked excitedly of what Damon had only picked up on as some kind of event.

After a few minutes of wondering, he inquired.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and all conversation halted.

“You haven’t heard?” a man said.

Damon glanced at Catherine, but she only stared back, curious. He looked at the man again. “No, I got into town last night.”

“You haven’t heard about the execution?”

Damon shook his head. “Who's getting executed?” he said, stuffing a chunk of bread in his mouth.

The man shrugged. “Some dwarf merchant, I heard.”

Damon drew in a sudden breath, and his semi-chewed food flew into his throat. He went into a coughing fit.

He stood, still hacking away dearly afraid for his life. Catherine was screaming his name, but he couldn’t hear through the sound of the blood pumping in his ears.

The man beside him jumped up, and punched Damon in the stomach. The mush flew from Damon’s mouth, and across the room. Damon fell against the table, drawing in gracious, unhindered breaths.

“You okay, mate?” the man asked. “You know the guy or something?”

Damon closed his eyes, composed himself, and sat back on the bench. He didn't answer the man's question, only turned to Catherine and said, “We’re going to that execution.”