FOREVER KNIGHTS: #7 King of Assassins

Blue Lark, Dread Hideout

SAVAGE JAXSON

Savage entered Winter Haven. Eyes inadvertently finding Dimurah working behind the counter. And there she is. The view never grew old.

Wait. His head lifted as his nostrils flared to take in a vile odor. Cimmerii.

He continued his stroll to the counter. Icy blue gaze flicking over the room. He angled his body against the counter to turn and take in the room’s full view. Tipping his head, he sniffed and caught the direction of the acrid scent. What are you?

Following the stink, Savage strode along the counter, men scraping their chairs away from it, to make him a path between. He trekked to the far end of the counter. Where shadows were deeper. As he drew close, he saw a man there. His eyes flashed gold. Catching the mottled darkness on the man’s face. Firoque.

Leaning against it directly next to the stranger, Savage faced the man without a word. You made a mistake coming here. His steady gaze conveyed the message.

“What?” The stranger asked. Lifting the tankard to his lips.

Savage cocked his head slowly. You know what.

“No!” Dimurah shouted. “Savage! Not in here. Not tonight!”

It is what it is. Savage barely spared her a glance over his shoulder.

“He’s not doing anything.” She leaned over the counter to grab Savage’s arm.

You don’t know what he is.

“I don’t know why you bother.” The other barmaid, Adrea, murmured to her. “Nothing you do ever stops him.”

That’s not true. I’d kill a lot more were it not for her…

“Savage Jack.” Belline purred. Materializing next to him. Stroking his forearm lovingly. “I’ve far more pleasant pastimes for you to engage in, I implore you…” Belline tossed blonde curls.

If Murah can’t stop me, you certainly won’t.

His blue eyes cut into her. “Piss. Off.”

Before I kill you too.

The man Savage stared at shifted uncomfortably. First one way, then the other.

One…Two…Three.

The stranger drew a small hatchet from his waist band and brandished it over his head.

Perfect.

There was a universal gasp throughout the alehouse. All knew what was to come.

Savage caught his wrist and stepped under his arm. Moving next to him as he brought the hatchet inward and down. So, the man’s own blade pierced down the center of his stomach.

He squealed in objection. Flailing and trying to fight.

Savage stepped back in-front of him. Jerking out the hatchet, he swung it once and it gouged deeply in the man’s neck. He gurgled choking on his own fluids. Savage had to weave the handle back and forth to tug it free. The second strike lopped off the man’s head. It thudded dully to the floor.

Dimurah shouted in protest.

I know.

Belline shrieked hysterically and retreated. Dragging her skirt through the splatter of blood coating the floor.

It’ll be fine. Calm down.

Dimurah stomped her foot. “His coin was as good as any! Why do you do that! He didn’t do anything!”

He would’ve.

“He had a weapon.” Savage turned and strolled back to his original vantage point. Looking around the room for any other threats.

“You goaded him into using it.”

“I did nothing.”

I didn’t have to. He came to cause harm.

She swore in frustration and slammed her fists down on the counter next to him.

His eyes kicked to her impassively before focusing on the surroundings in the tavern. He even sent a glance upward at the high struts in the vaulted ceiling. There are no more.

He turned and gave Dimurah the attention she so desperately wanted while railing at him.

He lifted a tankard to his lips. Impervious to the usual sounds of her fury. What was its purpose here?