Acwellen ignored him and shared rude jokes with his men. Padric lay on the floor, numb and uncaring. He had failed. Had he succeeded his world would have still been darker. Maybe he would have gone home and seen his family. Found some days of solace before the wickedness that plagued these lands reached their doorstep. But even that fleeting chance could not eclipse his desire to see every man in this room dead by his hand. He should have fought back. Death was certain, but maybe he could have run Drefan through before they brought him down. That would have been something.

The doors to the hall opened and Seon returned, his face nervous. Padric craned his head to look upon the figure that followed and his guts churned. The heavy bronze boots thudded across the hall as he approached, the battle axe propped casually over a shoulder and that damned unmistakable helm, forged in the likeness of a boar, was cradled in the hook of his arm. Kederic saw the goblin and began screaming, cursing Acwellen’s name, kicking at the floor, trying to rise but was held fast by the spear tips of his traitorous warriors.

The goblin paused when he reached the center of the hall, half the height of the men who all shrunk slightly away from him. Even Banan took a step back.

The goblin pointed to Kederic. “This him?”

Acwellen nodded, trying to hide his apprehension. Kederic did not cower. Heedless of the spears he pushed himself to his knees and looked at the goblin in the eye.

“Be gone from here, filth! Or my loyal men will see your head mounted on a spike come daybreak.”

“Oh, I think we will be away long before then, as we have just one question for you.” Torcan Swinehelm placed the blade of his axe under the Thegn’s chin and leaned in close. “Tell me, Kederic Winetongue. Where is your wife?”

The Thegn craned his head away from the bite of the blade, face full of loathing and did not answer.

“Where?” Torcan coaxed, pressing the axe upward until a thick pool of crimson welled upon the blade.

Kederic grit his teeth through the pain. “Dead.”

Torcan laughed. “No, no. That she is very much alive, I know for certain. Where you have hidden her, this I will have from you.” The goblin ground the blade deeper and Kederic’s eyes ran with fury and pain, but he said no more. “Very well,” Torcan looked at Acwellen. “The Thegn is to come with me, so we may…talk more. You have your fort, mortal. But remember, this ends not our bargain.”

Acwellen nodded and Padric saw sweat running freely beneath his beard. “What of these two?”

Torcan did not bother to glance at Padric and Slouch Hat. “Kill them.”