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Crisis in Freeport: Part 12b – The Council’s Decree
Two more crossbow bolts thudded into Beldin. One of them lodged in his armor. The other struck him in the upper arm.
“You’ll have to do better than that!” shouted Beldin. He whirled, looking for the assassins.
He didn’t have to look for long. Three feminine forms, one swathed in black, one in dark brown, and the third in dark blue, all converged on him simultaneously. All of their faces were masked.
Beldin recognized one of the assassins. “Jesswin!”
The lead assassin who had fired the crossbow bolt at Sebastian made a feint with her knife, goading Beldin into making a mistake. “Close. We are all Jesswin.”
Marilise Maeorgan screamed for her coach. Other council members reached for weapons.
Her two companions struck simultaneously. Beldin was only able to block one with his shield as the other stabbed him in the arm.
Beldin made the woman flanking his left pay for the attack. He thwacked her hard with his shield, knocking her into the crowd. The orc mob engulfed her. Her flailing hand disappeared in a sea of green fists.
The second assassin back flipped past Beldin. She was making her way towards Emric.
The dwarf turned to stop the threat. He swung his axe, sweeping the woman’s legs out from under her as she stabbed at a stunned Emric. The blade swept past the boy, inches from his face.
Thralen took advantage of the momentary distraction and fired a pistol at point blank range into the woman before she could rise. She twitched once and lay still.
A cold blade pierced Beldin’s ribs. He whirled, face to face with the first assassin.
Her eyes looked familiar.
As blood leaked out of his armor, Beldin felt his strength fading. He grabbed her ponytail and pulled. Her mask fell away…
“Countess D’Ambrose?” he said, shocked. Beldin released her.
The Countess fell backwards, wheezing and pale. With her mask removed, he could see she was ill.
“The geas…” she slid to the ground. “Mentire forced us…”
Beldin leaned on his axe, wheezing. “You could have fooled me.”
“The boy would…” she turned her head as the council members loomed over her. “…be dead already…went after you…instead.”
“Mentire is dead! Who hired him to do this?” demanded Marilise.
“Arias,” she said, her eyes unfocused. “He’s got my girls…at Salon du Masque.”
Beldin pulled out a handful of potions. He forced the first down Sebastian’s throat.
“Get up,” he said.
The poison wore off quickly. “Where are we going?” Sebastian asked, still groggy from the effects of blue whinnis.
“We’re visiting a brothel.”
Two more crossbow bolts thudded into Beldin. One of them lodged in his armor. The other struck him in the upper arm.
“You’ll have to do better than that!” shouted Beldin. He whirled, looking for the assassins.
He didn’t have to look for long. Three feminine forms, one swathed in black, one in dark brown, and the third in dark blue, all converged on him simultaneously. All of their faces were masked.
Beldin recognized one of the assassins. “Jesswin!”
The lead assassin who had fired the crossbow bolt at Sebastian made a feint with her knife, goading Beldin into making a mistake. “Close. We are all Jesswin.”
Marilise Maeorgan screamed for her coach. Other council members reached for weapons.
Her two companions struck simultaneously. Beldin was only able to block one with his shield as the other stabbed him in the arm.
Beldin made the woman flanking his left pay for the attack. He thwacked her hard with his shield, knocking her into the crowd. The orc mob engulfed her. Her flailing hand disappeared in a sea of green fists.
The second assassin back flipped past Beldin. She was making her way towards Emric.
The dwarf turned to stop the threat. He swung his axe, sweeping the woman’s legs out from under her as she stabbed at a stunned Emric. The blade swept past the boy, inches from his face.
Thralen took advantage of the momentary distraction and fired a pistol at point blank range into the woman before she could rise. She twitched once and lay still.
A cold blade pierced Beldin’s ribs. He whirled, face to face with the first assassin.
Her eyes looked familiar.
As blood leaked out of his armor, Beldin felt his strength fading. He grabbed her ponytail and pulled. Her mask fell away…
“Countess D’Ambrose?” he said, shocked. Beldin released her.
The Countess fell backwards, wheezing and pale. With her mask removed, he could see she was ill.
“The geas…” she slid to the ground. “Mentire forced us…”
Beldin leaned on his axe, wheezing. “You could have fooled me.”
“The boy would…” she turned her head as the council members loomed over her. “…be dead already…went after you…instead.”
“Mentire is dead! Who hired him to do this?” demanded Marilise.
“Arias,” she said, her eyes unfocused. “He’s got my girls…at Salon du Masque.”
Beldin pulled out a handful of potions. He forced the first down Sebastian’s throat.
“Get up,” he said.
The poison wore off quickly. “Where are we going?” Sebastian asked, still groggy from the effects of blue whinnis.
“We’re visiting a brothel.”