The Attack

Zayde stiffened, his mind racing to work out how an enemy could have managed to get the drop on him with a squad of his own men right behind him. As his sidearms were stripped away and he was grabbed by the shoulders then rushed to a concealed corner of the courtyard, only one possibility existed.

He was being betrayed by his own men.

He knew without looking who would be holding the sword. Lieutenant Scrimshaw, one of those who had chafed under his leadership since he had taken over as Captain. Though he had always stopped just short of outright insubordination or any discipline worthy offense, Zayde had long debated if he was going to have to dismiss the man from the guard.

Zayde even thought that things had improved in recent months. It was clear now that any improvement in Scrimshaw's temperament was due to the anticipation of his impending treachery.

"I thought you were supposed to be clever, Captain Mountcastle?" one of the guards smirked, deliberately using Zayde's old name. "Not so smart now, are you?"

Another spat. "You turn up, act like we're not good enough… What was it you always said in training about 'being aware of your surroundings?' Well, you didn't see this coming did you?"

Zayne didn't reply but had to admit, they were right. He cursed himself for not realizing that today's squad was filled with men more loyal to Scrimshaw. As House Angelus' own guards held open the gates and a cohort of strange soldiers entered the courtyard, it was clear that this attack had been carefully coordinated.

Assault from without, betrayal from within…

While the first two guards grinned at Zayde's discomfort, a third just glared. Leaning in close, he growled, "You aren't one of us. Never were, never will be!" The man looked like he was itching for an excuse to kill Zayde himself.

"Now, now boys", Scrimshaw gently admonished, sword still held firmly against Zayde's spine. "The Captain was just doing what he thought was the best. And if he really does know what's best… he'll stay quiet until this is over."

Scrimshaw leaned in close and spoke quietly into Zayde's ear.

"I know you never liked me, Captain, and well… I guess maybe you were right. You just waited too long to get rid of me.

"Let that be what you learn from this experience, Captain… You can't trust anyone in this world. You can't trust anything except this… If you so much as think of moving, the last thing you'll ever see is this blade erupting from your chest. So stay quiet, stay still, and let those men in their fancy uniforms get what they came for. No one needs to get hurt."

Despite the threat, Zayde relaxed slightly. He had been bracing, ready to make a move as soon as the other soldiers were out of earshot, even with the sword at his back. But the words gave him pause. This raid might just be a smash-and-grab, and Scrimshaw didn't sound like he was planning on killing anyone so long as Zayde cooperated. Fighting back wouldn't just be risky for himself, it might put others unnecessarily at risk, too.

Scrimshaw could sense his change in posture.

"That's right, let's keep things nice and diplomatic… That's how you like to handle conflict, anyway, right? I'm doing you a favor. These men were gonna get their way one way or another. At least this way they don't have to fight their way in." A stream of servants and workers burst from the front doors, moving across the courtyard as fast as they dared, with many a nervous look back at the armed men behind them.

"See!" mocked Scrimshaw, "They're even letting the bloody skaa out safe! You were never gonna win this one, Cap', and at least this way you don't have to get yourself heroically killed over nothing."

Just then, a body came crashing through one of the third floor windows and smashed into the ground below.

Zayde reacted instantly, twisting to grab the side blade from the guard to his left. As expected, Scrimshaw thrust forward in response to the movement, but the distraction of the falling body had slowed his reaction enough that Zayde was able to twist way from most of the attack, leaving him with a slice across his hip rather than a stab through his guts. With his free hand, he elbowed Scrimshaw in the back as he continued to spin, sending the man sprawling forward off balance from his own momentum.

Scrimshaw crashed into the guard to the right, both falling to the ground, while Zayde brought his knife up to block a sword swing from the guard on the left with his own stolen blade. A quick kick to the knee sent the man buckling, his descending chin meeting Zayde's rising palm in a blow that lifted the man off his feet. Zayde spun on his heel and stamped hard on Scrimshaw's head as he tried to disentangle himself from the soldier he had fallen into, smashing their foreheads together in a dizzying blow.

The fight was over in seconds.

He would have loved to have taken a moment to finish off Scrimshaw and his traitorous friends, but they were neutralized for now, and protecting his family was his first priority. If the attackers were throwing people out of windows, who knew what else they might be doing, despite Scrimshaw's assurances that no one would be hurt. Every second might be the difference between life and death.

Zayde ran for the front doors, hurling his knife into the throat of the enemy guard that moved forward to confront him and snatching the sword from the man's limp hand without breaking stride.

As he fought his way up through the keep, he passed many fallen House Angelus guards. It looked like not every guard had been in on the betrayal, and those that had fought back against the attackers had been cut down. The attack had been too sudden and too strong.

Fortunately, the enemy were still working to secure the keep, with most of the forces spreading out across the floors to check rooms and guard prisoners, only a few stragglers left to guard the stairwell. Zayde managed to reach the top floor with little resistance.

Bursting into Lord Angelus's study, Zayde discovered to his horror that he was moments too late. Lord Angelus was impaled of the sword of one of the attackers, Reela was unmoving on the floor, and enemy soldiers were rifling through the wall safe.

They turned at the sound of Zayde's entrance, and suddenly he found his sword torn from his grasp and embedded in the wall behind him. Coinshot! Zayde rolled out of the way just in time to dodge a handful of clips shot in his direction, kicked over a table and ducked behind it as cover from the second, the wood splintering from the impact.

A coinshot… he was thankfully metal free, his sword being all he regularly carried, with a dueling cane as backup. But both had been stripped from him, and he hadn't had a chance to replace his cane… was there one nearby he could grab?

"We have what we were sent to acquire,"an imperious noble voice growled, "Take care of him, and then clean up your mess here."

Zayde couldn't see from his cover the man speaking, but caught a glimpse of a figure leaping from the windows. That must be the coinshot fleeing with whatever was stolen. Maybe if he could recover his sword he could still…

Before he could get any further, the table he was ducked behind shattered in two from a single blow, and Zayde found himself hoisted in the air by his neck. A man held him aloft by one hand, inspecting him.

Only a Pewterarm could have such strength. Hazekillers trained to fight these Thugs, but you really wanted either range, surprise, or a four-to-one advantage of numbers to take on a Thug who knew what they were doing…

And Zayde was short on all three.

Still, he tried to twist in the man's grip. In his free hand, the Thug held the sword he'd used to kill Lord Angelus.

Before Zayde could free himself, the thug clubbed him with the hilt, and everything went black.