Warwielder - Book 1 of The Evernoth Odyssey

Chapter 8 - Number One Rule

Marschal had been sliced and stabbed in the past but never deep enough or in the right place for it to kill him. So he was surprised when he was still conscious enough to feel a nicking pain stinging his left ear rather than a sharp point impaling his skull. Just as he opened his eyes, Marschal's body became victim to Walton's falling weight, forcing a groan from an impact to the chest. It wasn't until the bandit's head fell over Marschal's shoulder did he notice a dagger protruding from the back of Walton's head. He glanced at the dagger, wondering where it came from.

That was when he saw Kollo standing a few steps back with an arm outstretched: the arm that threw the dagger.

"Papa?"

Both Kollo and Marschal turned to see the boy slowly rousing from his sleep with gradually opening eyes. When they were halfway open, he noticed and recognized the dead body draping over Marschal's scrawny form.

"Go back to sleep," said Kollo. "There's nothing-"

At the sound of shuffling feet, Kollo whipped around to face the rest of his men approaching the commotion. They were staring back and forth between Walton's dead body and their leader's wary posture, as though he were preparing himself for a fight. Kollo's eyes reminded Marschal of a cornered animal assessing the three remaining bandits arrayed before him. Those same eyes then shifted to Walton's corpse. Then to the pathetically frail body pinned beneath it.

That was when they both locked gazes for a moment with Marschal struggling to decipher the thoughts in the bandit's head. In that brief silence, Marschal caught the emotional landscape of Kollo's face suddenly switch from a frightened uncertainty, to a cold scathing glare before finally falling flat and expressionless.

The bandit calmly strode towards Marschal with what seemed to be a relaxed gait. Marschal instinctively inched himself back away from him, or at least tried to. He could only move so far with a literal dead weight pressing his own body into the forest earth. When Kollo stopped in front of Marschal and loomed over him, Marschal slightly flinched when the bandit bent down to grab the back of Walton's collar. In a single motion, Kollo heaved up the corpse and relieved Marschal of the heavy weight. Marschal was straightening himself up when the bandit dragged the body unceremoniously through the cold dirt. When Kollo stopped before his crew, he half-heartedly threw the body at them which landed with a dead thud beneath their gaze. It wasn't until they were able to tear their eyes away from their lifeless comrade did they finally notice their leader's hard eyes boring into them.

"What's the number one rule?" Despite the softness of his voice, it still managed to be carried across the forest air.

His men remained silent.

"I said," It almost seemed as if he were baring his fangs as he addressed his pack, "What's the number one rule? Boys?"

One of his men answered with a meek whisper. "Don't kill the money."

"What? I can't hear you. Speak up."

He answered louder. "Don't kill the money."

"Good." Kollo nodded before facing another one of his subordinates.

"D-don't kill the money," replied the second bandit.

Kollo nodded and turned to his last man.

"Don't kill the money."

"Good!" The bandits jumped at the stabbing word from Kollo. "I'm glad we're on the same page!" He interrupted himself with hocked up phlegm and spit which streamed through his teeth. It was probably no accident that it landed near the dead body beneath them. Kollo turned back to his men after sniffing and wiping his face. "What? You're awake now! We might as well get a move on! Hurry up! Go, go, go!"