The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) by Garrett Robinson (elon musk reading list TXT) 📕

the battle when we do not know who is on which side, much less which side is the right one? And what if the wrong side wins? Do you think we will be safe here in Huzen?”

“Very well,” said Mag. “But where do we go?”

“We need not worry about the direction yet,” I said. “This foe approaches from within, and so we must get ourselves without.”

We ran back inside and fetched Dryleaf from the room. He took my arm and followed us down the stairs.

“What is it?” he said as we went. “Who is attacking?”

“We do not know,” I said. “Dorsean soldiers are fighting each other in the streets. We have to leave the town.”

His bushy brows drew together. “Dorsean soldiers …?” he said slowly.

“We have no more answers than that,” I said. Mag threw open the inn’s door, and we stepped out into the street. “And I would rather discover them from a place of safety, than in the midst of—”

“You! Halt!”

Two soldiers stood before us. The fighting had moved closer to the inn now. The guards who challenged us stood over a man’s gutted body. He was wearing the same uniform as them. Now they raised their swords, approaching step by step.

“Go back inside. Now!”

Mag’s spear came up, her voice toneless again. “That is not going to happen.”

One of them, a bulky man with a scraggly beard, snarled at her. “We are servants of the true king, and you will obey our commands.” He rolled his shoulder, the tip of his blade moving in a lazy circle. “Unless you are traitors, in league with the pretender?”

True king? Pretender? What was going on here?

The second guard had stepped to the side, and I was very aware of how close her sword was to Dryleaf. I nudged the old man behind me. Oku bristled and growled at the woman. But while I hesitated, trying to determine the right course of action, Mag had no such hesitation. She pounced on the bearded man. For a terrible moment, I feared she would kill him, but she only struck him down with the butt of her spear. He fell, stunned but not quite senseless, and Mag kicked his sword far out of reach.

The woman put up a better fight, managing to trade two blows with Mag. But then the spontoon’s tip came around, and Mag slammed the flat of it into the woman’s temple with a crushing blow. She fell to the mud of the street, poleaxed. Her limp body now lay in the pool of blood from the guard they had killed right before we arrived.

“What in the dark below is this?” I said.

“No time to find out,” said Mag. “The horses.”

All the stablehands had fled, so we fetched our mounts and rode hard for the west gate. Though we avoided the fighting where we could, sometimes we had to gallop straight through the battle. It was a horrible reminder of Northwood. I kept a tight hand on the reins of Dryleaf’s horse. He clung to the saddle, bent over his mount’s neck to make himself as small a target as possible. I wondered how terrifying this must be for him, hearing only clashing blades and death screams.

The western gate was closed. Four Dorsean guards stood before it, with halberds held forwards in warning. I thought I recognized them from when we had come into the town hours ago.

“Halt!” cried one who seemed braver than the rest. At least her hands were not shaking. “No one is leaving the town!”

“We only wish to escape the fighting!” I called back as we reined in our horses before them. “We are simple travelers. This battle has nothing to do with us.”

“No one is leaving,” she repeated, and her voice was grim. “By order of the mayor.”

I sighed and looked at Mag. “Do you wish to …”

“I do not wish to, but I will,” she said, and she dismounted.

The soldiers, bless them, stepped towards us, for they saw a clear threat in Mag’s stance. But when they thrust their halberds at her, the space where she had stood was suddenly empty. She darted between their stabs and ducked beneath their slashes. Though they were well trained, Mag’s grace made them look clumsy and foolish. Oku edged forwards, though he seemed reluctant to join her in the fight.

“Kip, Oku,” I said. “She does not need us.”

Oku sat.

Mag’s spear lashed out three times, and one by one, the guards fell. She did not slash or pierce them but knocked them senseless with the butt or the flat of the blade.

Soon only the guard who had challenged us remained, and now her hands did shake. She took two steps back, and now she was up against the town wall.

“No one is permitted to leave!” she cried, voice trembling and eyes wide.

Mag’s brow furrowed, as it might have at a growling puppy. Then she knocked the woman’s halberd out of her grip and caught both her wrists in one hand. Pushing her up against the gate, she held the haft of the spontoon across her throat.

“Now then,” said Mag. “Suppose you tell us what under the sky is going on.”

The girl gritted her teeth and tried to free her hands, but she could no more move than she could have taken flight. I saw the moment the spark went out of her. Her shoulders sagged, and a held breath escaped her in a sigh.

“No one knows,” said the woman. “Not for certain.”

“Suppose you tell us what you suspect, or what you have heard,” said Dryleaf. “That might be just as useful.”

“And if I do not?” she said, glaring at Mag.

“I will not kill you,” said Mag easily. “But I will have to give you the same headache I gave your companions, and we will leave the town regardless. I would rather not do that. We are no evil folk, but merely confused, and likely more so than you are.”

“That hardly seems possible,” snorted the woman.

She had stopped struggling against