Davi was the first one to wake up to see Michael staring deadeyed at the door frame markings. He pushed himself up, realizing the scout wasn’t there.
Michael didn’t look at him, though he did finally blink. “I had to kill a man last night.”
Davi pushed himself up quickly, reaching for his sword. “Did someone slip into camp?”
“They were beating a Tusinian deserter in the barn. They asked me to heal him so they could have another go at beating him to death. I killed him instead.”
Davi nodded, his usual frown deepening. “Did the scouts do anything to you?”
Michael shook his head. “No, but I think we’ll need to do something about the other Penitents. They’re going to come after us.”
“You want to kill them?”
“I don’t want to. I think we should be ready to though.”
Davi nodded. “I’m with you.”
“Me too,” said Ollie without opening his eyes. “Even though you woke me up from an incredible dream about a bag of Maccas and a blowjob.”
Marcus, who was awake and munching on some nuts he’d packed leaned against the hallway wall with a curious look on his face. “Did the bag have a mouth, or was there someone else there?” He held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I’ll just assume the most fucked up option for the fun of it.” He looked at Michael. “I’m good to kill them by the way. In case I have to say it out loud.”
“I am as well,” said Pytor, sitting up slowly and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Were the rest of you up for a long time?” asked Davi.
“Yes, but I didn’t want to be the one to deal with Michael’s creepy stare,” said Marcus, flicking another nut into his mouth.
“You're a real pal,” said Michael dryly.
“I try,” replied Marcus.
There was a knock on the wall outside the house.
“Get geared up and ready. We need to get moving in ten,” yelled Thom.
They all sat hiding in the woods to the side of the main road. Michael and Davi had dragged a large rotted tree trunk into the middle of the road at the scouts’ orders, and they were hidden with their weapons at the ready. Bran had already scouted up the road and confirmed that the wagon was incoming, that meant that their information was good. There were ten guards, and four civilians. One of the guards was their equivalent of a sergeant, the orders were to attempt to take anyone of his rank prisoner if possible. The only other concern was one of the guards that appeared to be a mage. The rest were to be killed and the civilians tied up and left on the road. Michael had the distinct impression that only he and the other penitent takers gave a damn about if the civilians were killed or not.
The wagon came into view after about a half-hour. The guards were all armored like Stent knights, but they moved a little clumsily, as if they weren’t quite used to the weight of it. The sergeant was obvious, as he was the only one on a horse, and all the civilians were riding in the wagon. The Tusinians wore tan uniforms under their armor that poked through, and their pauldrons all had hand-painted patterns on them, mostly of alternating colored diamonds. The paint looked relatively fresh.
The sergeant moved ahead a bit to inspect the trunk in the road. He raised the visor for his helmet to get a better look, and his eyes widened.
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A bullet flew through the head of the sergeant's horse and it fell, landing on the man’s leg. He screamed as the weight of the beast shattered it.
The wagon came to a halt, and all of the guards moved forward toward their sergeant, drawing their swords and looking around for what had made the noise. One of them was dropped as two arrows pierced his armor.
The Penitents all charged at that moment and Michael quickly lost track of the others as they collided with the guards. Michael charged to ensure his Run Conqueror deed was active and slammed his shield into the nearest of the Tusinians. The guard stumbled, unused to the weight of his armor and fell onto his back. Michael moved to drive his sword into his throat, but was pushed back as a spear was thrust toward him. He dodged the first strike and batted away the second before cracking the spear with a sword strike on its shaft. Michael kicked him back, and at that moment the one he’d knocked down with his shield stood and struck out at him with his own blade. Michael caught the blow with his shield and slammed his gauntleted fist into the side of the man’s face. Once the guard was disoriented, Michael slashed at his gorget, managing to cut into it with sheer force, though he didn't get all the way through. The man clutched at his throat as he fell, blood spilling down the silver front of his armor.
Michael turned to face the other one, but realized he was dead too, a bullet hole clear in his faceplate. He saw Pyotr fighting a different guard and ran to help, kicking the back of the man’s knee and forcing him to the ground so Pyotr could drive his own sword through the man’s faceplate. They looked to see Davi finishing off his opponent of his own, and he saw one of the other Penitents being run through by a spear, and collapsing onto the ground.
The guard looked at them, and started to run back along the road, leaving his spear in the dying Penitent as he ran. Michael chased after him, still feeling light on his feet despite the fighting. He saw as he moved that the scouts were both moving to secure the sergeant, and there was at least one other dead Penitent on the ground, a spear wound in his neck. Ollie was muttering under his breath and lightning was arcing from his staff and smashing into a bubble-like shield that the other mage had summoned. As he pushed closer, Davi and Pyotr were circling around to the enemy’s rear.
Michael reached the fleeing guard and leapt onto him. They struggled on the ground, but Michael managed to get his sword to the man’s neck, but he hesitated. The man had been running away anyway. He didn’t have to do this. He leaned close to try and whisper to him to play dead, but the guard twisted around, drawing a thin pointy dagger and aiming it for Michael’s ribs. He struck true, but it seemed to glance off of something, stabbing into his side, but not deeply. Michael’s vision went red and he smashed a fist imbued with magicka into the man’s faceplate. He had cast the spell without a focus, but it held, and with his enemy stunned he stabbed him through the throat and killed him.
He pushed himself to his feet, and drew the needle-like dagger from his side, healing himself as he moved back toward the wagon where he could see even from a distance that Ollie was still struggling fighting with the enemy mage. As he healed, his senses sharpened thanks to his new deed and he realized that Arl, and another Penitent were securing the civilians. They were sobbing, and Arl appeared to have tackled one of them, a woman, to the ground.
Michael started running toward them, hearing the woman’s screams as Arl pushed himself onto her, tearing open her skirts. He tackled Arl off the woman, and jammed the needle-like dagger into his throat.
The other Penitent that had been holding his spear to keep the other civilians from interfering turned toward him and started to yell, but he went suddenly quiet as a bullet struck him in his chest. Michael quickly drove the dagger he'd taken through the bullet hole to hid the type of wound and nodded to the smoking barrel poking just out of the brush.
He looked at the woman and raised his hand, healing her. She flinched and moved toward the other civilians, terrified looks on their faces and Michael grimaced, but continued the healing until all of them were restored. He imagined how he looked, his hands and armor splashed in blood, a man who had just slaughtered the men that were protecting them.
Bran appeared from the other side of the wagon and looked at him. He turned around. “Four dead total, all guards taken care of. Civilians secured.” He patted Michael on the back, making him jump a bit.
“Good job running that last one down. I guess you had it in you after all. I’ll tie these four up, you go and heal the sergeant, we’ll need his leg working to get him where we need to go.” He didn’t question the deaths of the other Penitents. They were expendable to begin with and anything could happen in the heat of battle.
Michael nodded, and made his way back around, healing the others as he passed. Ollie had a burn on his shoulder, Davi and Pyotr some small cuts, and the remaining non taker Penitent a broken shoulder. Marcus emerged from the woods, his rifle slung back over his shoulder, and exchanged a look and a nod with Michael.