Escape to the Sea (Tangled Hearts #1)

Chapter 9 Benny’s Dozen

Tomlyn

I still feel terrible about letting us wander around the woods for two days. Maybe that’s why I told him my name back at the campsite. And maybe that’s why I’m deciding now to follow him as he tears through the woods, following after the pieces of broken branches that Mithrai left behind.

“Come on! Use those long legs and keep up !” he hisses at me.

Well, perhaps I don’t feel that terrible. He’s been such a pain in my ass.

We make our way up a slight hill and catch the first glimpse of chimney smoke from the cabin.

Ephraim picks up the pace, and it takes everything in me not to physically drag him backwards. There are at least three, maybe four sets of footprints in the path leading over this next hill. Who knows how many idiots Benny has on our tail?

Ephraim does not have the same sense of self-preservation that I do.

“This is such a bad idea,” I say. “We don’t know the numbers, we don’t know the terrain, we don’t know who we’re fighting. It’s poor planning to run in there with no information.”

“Every second we waste is another second that we could be sneaking in, taking what we need, and sneaking back out,” he snaps back, continuing to trudge, gripping his quarterstaff tighter.

“And more seconds that you’ll be alive , M’lord.”

Ephraim starts to reply, but we both hear the crash of a body through the bushes. I pull him back behind a tree, holding a finger to my lips. Ephraim nods, impatient, looking around me to see who’s coming.

Walking out of the brush is Mithrai, his white hair a tangle of branches and leaves as he stalks out. He’s joined by a half-elven woman, who’s covered head to toe in leathers, with daggers in her boots and a wicked longsword strapped to her back. I’ve fought her before. She’s got a mean left hook and nearly knocked one of my teeth out in the pits. Kona.

Fuck me running.

“Okay, change of plans. It’s time to go,” I whisper, and start to turn around.

“What? No! We’re right here. The cabin is right there!” He stabs the air sharply in the direction of the two elves.

“Yeah, but that was before I saw who was guarding it.”

He is half a foot shorter than me, but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest, his shoulders squaring as he gets in my face. “Is this your game?” he hisses. “You said you would help me and now you’re pulling away? I cannot believe you!”

“Listen, I’m here for you, but we want to do this right. You’re not going to be able to take these guys down like you did those chumps the first day. They’re part of Benny’s Dozen. His best fighters, casters, muscle. I don’t even want to fight them.”

“It’s only two, not twelve—”

“Thirteen,” I correct. “Like a baker’s—”

“I get it, yes!” he huffs. “There’s only two of them, there’s two of us. Those are as straight odds as we can get.”

“E, listen,” I start, but he cuts me off again.

“No. I have been listening, and waiting, and stopping for two days now. I have had enough. I’m going, and you can either join me or not. I’ll take the shapeshifter, you take the one with the bow, or I’ll take them both myself.”

Before I can stop him, he rises in one quick move and darts towards them.

Stupid, idiot noble. He’s like an impatient puppy. Fuck!

As he charges out of hiding, both Kona and Mithrai turn on him. Kona immediately strings her bow.

Periti’s balls. I’m really starting to regret not bringing my jagerstocks with me.

Ephraim surprises them with his ferocity, charging into them head on.

I cannot believe this. I cannot believe that after all of this mucking about in the godsforsaken woods, he’s still going to end up kidnapped. Or worse. And I’m going to be run out of town like a mongrel with his tail between his legs. What a nightmare.

I draw my shortsword as I walk out of our hiding place, moving toward Kona before she can attack E, slicing her down her back. She starts to cry out, but my hand is already there, wrapping around her mouth and using the surprise to drag her back into the bushes.

Kona thanks me for not running her through by biting into my hand. I bite down hard on my lip to keep from swearing and punch hard into her lowest left rib, snapping it under the pressure. It’ll hurt to breathe, let alone shout, with that injury.

She stiffens in my touch and I force her arm up until it’s fit to break. She still fights like a devil though, slamming her booted foot backwards, aiming for my soft bits. I dodge backwards instinctively and she pulls out of my hold, whirling to face me. Before she can catch her breath, I use all my strength to slam a punch into her face.

She staggers back and I pounce, crossing with my left hand to send her stumbling into the dirt, eyes rolled back in her head.

I bend over, winded, looking up as Ephraim cracks his staff into Mithrai’s temple, laying him out cold. He’s nursing a slight cut across his cheek, probably from the druid’s sharpened nails. He wipes the blood away and tosses his staff back into the sling at his back. He gives me a look I’d expect from one of my sisters; cold, haughty, and most of all, petty.

“You are an idiot,” I mutter quickly, leaning down and grabbing rope from the aether. I cut the rope in half and toss him half the length, motioning to Mithrai.

He quickly ties the elf’s hands with a nifty looking sailor’s knot, and I truss Kona up like an overgrown warpfang spider. She won’t be causing any trouble for at least a few minutes.

“I’m not an idiot. We subdued them both easily, and now we can retrieve my belongings and leave.”

“This was two of them. And you’re bleeding .”

Ephraim wipes the blood away again as he rises. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, E. For fuck’s sake, can you listen to me?”

“If I hadn’t listened to you from the start, I could have been with my men back in Vinitore by now. Listening to you is something I can no longer afford. Especially since I’m beginning to think you’re stalling to buy your friends more time.”

I take a step back, the flush of anger hot and staggering. “You really think these guys are my friends?”

“Oh, no honor among thieves today?” he says over his shoulder. “It’s done now, anyway. If there are any others, I’m sure that when these two don’t finish their patrol, they’ll come looking for them. So, are you coming or not?”

I could wander back into the woods, steal whatever cart or horse I find, and trace my way back to a main road. But Ephraim’s mind is made up. Even if I do leave, he’ll march in there without me.

Persistent. Stubborn. Are all surface nobles like this? “I’m coming, E.”

His golden eyes soften for a moment, and he gives me the barest smile before he turns back and starts on the path to the cabin.

~*~

Unfortunately, I am right. I hate being right sometimes. I don’t know how Sylf pulls it off all the time.

I can hear the laughter of two or three people in the clearing ahead of us. How many people did Benny put on our scent?

Ephraim doesn’t stop; he storms into the clearing and puts his foot into the chest of the first person he sees. It’s another bruiser, Finneas, who was cutting firewood near the east end of the camp. The force of the kick sends Finneas backwards over the tree stump, landing on his butt, legs in the air.

Well. This is certainly one way to get everyone’s attention. Plan T is nothing compared to this. I’d call it Plan E. And, like with Sylf, it’s probably going to end with a lot of people dead.

“What happened to the element of surprise?” I say, starting towards him, shortsword drawn.

Before I make it two more paces, I clock another half-elf. Ling is here, strapped down to hell in her full leathers. She pulls out a bow, leaning back to line up a shot.

Out of the corner of my eye to my right, Sinclair, a lanky, half-naked human, lazily rolls up from his cross-legged position on the porch.

Three in the clearing, two more in the bushes. There are almost never this many of the Dozen in one place; each of them has their own gang they lord over. These aren’t bad odds. These are ‘we’re not making it out of here alive’ odds. Ephraim is definitely going to lose more than a finger.

I let a pretty face and a nice body walk me straight into Benny’s web.

There’s no time now; he’s already started this fight. Finneas gets back to his feet, but the bow is more of a threat, so I move quickly to cut an arrow out of the air, sending it off track as I move towards Ling.

I call on my own magic, sprinting to join her on the other side of the clearing. I don’t like putting Finneas behind me, but there’s no choice. An arrow to your leg will put you on the ground. One to the chest or head could kill. So I have to put her down before more of them show up.

Ling’s a fast fighter; I move into her space as she arcs towards my throat with a dagger. I dodge back but she presses the offensive, sending me dancing backwards. I find my footing and tuck under her next swing, crossing with another hit that blows the air out of her and forces her to crumple in front of me. That’s one nice thing about the extra muscle I’ve put on lately— when I do connect I get at least a few seconds of breathing room as they work up the nerve to hit me again.

A sharp cry of pain breaks my concentration. Ephraim is evading the slow heavy swings of Finneas’ axe while getting in small sharp blows with his quarterstaff to throw him off balance. I’m honestly impressed. He’s better than he has any right to be for a little lordling.

Ling finally gets up off the ground and I grab her arm, yanking it forwards and wrapping it into a complicated hold, attempting to force the air from her lungs.

“Go to sleep,” I mutter.

She socks me in the jaw for my effort, forcing my teeth to click together. I don’t dare let go, instead switching to a sleeper hold until she falls limp in my arms.

Ephraim lands a set of punishing blows on Finneas, the last one to his chest. But he overcommits here, pressing his advantage. The bigger fighter makes him pay for it, hurling his axe downward. Ephraim manages to avoid losing an arm, but he gets hit with the shaft of the axe for his trouble. He fights to stay on his feet, and Finneas charges on. Ephraim barely pulls himself together, and in desperation blocks the next hit, performing a set of spins and strikes that lay Finneas out cold, dropping him into the leaves.

Ephraim bends over, trying to pull air back into his lungs. That’s when another figure picks up the noble and slams him down into the ground as if he was a sack of potatoes.

Fuck . Of course it’s Steffon.

Ephraim cries out in pain, struggling to get to his feet, using his staff as a crutch.

Steffon rips it out of his hands and tosses it across the field. “Sinclair, keep him down. McDanna’s mine!”

I do not want to fucking fight Steffon again. I also don’t want to fight both of these people at the same time.

But E’s met his match here. He gets up again just in time for Sinclair to reach him and slam his hand down in a quick pattern, once against both of E’s shoulders and then a fist into his solar plexus. Ephraim drops to one knee and then crumples. Sinclair gives a little laugh and places his foot on his back.

“Adam! Ida! Guess who we’ve got outside?” Steffon calls, looking too smug to be believed.

“I see him,” another figure says, walking out with a shorter dwarven woman with a warhammer on her shoulder.

So, let’s add this up.

One, Steffon. Six-foot-enough ugly behemoth with a chip on his shoulder.

Two, Sinclair. Smug ass monk who has his foot on my noble.

Three, Ida. Dwarven pain in my fucking ass.

Four, Adam. Big bruiser with a bigger, bruisier sword.

And it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the Dozen show up. Only a matter of time until Ling, Finneas, Mithrai, and Kona wake up. Four on one is now too many to count on one.

Fucking Ephraim. Fucking puppy.

“Any last words, McDanna? Gonna throw another cheap left hook at me like you did in the proving grounds? Not gonna be so easy this time.”

“So it’ll take four hits instead of two? Oh, I don’t know how I’ll manage.” My mouth runs away without any consent from me, as it normally does.

Steffon’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation. “We’ll see how hard you punch with no hands, eh?” he says, gesturing to Adam.

“His slow ass? Adam couldn’t beat his meat if he were fucking a butcher. He’s not gonna catch me.”

Adam’s face colors with rage. Oh yes. Good work, Tomlyn. Let’s get all of them pissed at me. That’ll make my death come faster at least.

Steffon pulls his coat off, dropping it to the side. “It doesn’t matter. Keep your hands, spider fucker. I need one good hit to drop you when it counts.”

“Oh, you can count now? I’m impressed. I thought you still needed all your fingers and toes to do that. Maybe one day you’ll be able to write your name too,” I crow, beckoning him forwards.

If I’m going to die here trying to save some noble’s neck, at least I’m going to entertain myself.

Steffon’s nostrils flare, but he doesn’t take the bait, not yet. “Don’t worry, McDanna. I’m not gonna kill you yet. I want to get you all softened up first. We’ll see how Finneas does with you.”

Oh no, he did wisen up. Finneas is a smart fighter that knows to tire me out. All Steffon will have to do is put me to bed.

But Finneas is already down. Steffon’s smug smirk doesn’t change when Finneas doesn’t respond, but he does start to look for him.

“Oh, Finneas is a little out of sorts at the moment,” I say. “He got downed by this little lord. Guess you guys are starting to lose your touch. Tell me, Steffon, who are you sending to fight your battles for you instead? The only person here I haven’t beaten is Ida and that’s only because she’s too short to get her stubby legs up and over the walls of the pit.”

“Fuck you, McDanna!” she shouts cheerfully.

“Oh, just you wait, darlin’, there’s a line,” I say, raising my shortsword to Steffon. “So, are you going to flirt all day? Or are you going to try and hit me?”

Steffon snarls and cracks his knuckles as he starts to stalk towards me. Well, can’t say I didn’t have a good run. I take a deep breath, preparing to block the first attack, when Steffon stops in mid-step, grasping at his neck.

As his fingers fiddle with it, I see an arrowhead, then bright red blood raining out in a sheet down his neck and into his leathers.

He staggers, and stumbles, and falls.

There’s one moment of silence before Ida screams in horror.

I follow the arrow’s path back up. Standing over Kona, preparing another arrow, is my karadin . My gal. In the flesh, her eyes glaring at Steffon’s form, then at me.

Oh, she’s never gonna let me hear the end of this one.