“Cozy,” Jerico said as Bellok led him toward the nearest of the homes.

“This is no time for joking,” Bellok said, glaring. “If you value your life, you will listen and respond in an appropriate manner. Griff, Adam, you two guard the door.”

“What if he tries something funny?” one of them asked. Whether it was Griff or Adam, Jerico hadn’t a clue. Now that he was free of the net, the two looked like brothers, if not twins. Only the scars across their faces and arms failed to match.

“I may not care for Ashhur, but I know how his warriors behave. Don’t worry. Inside, paladin.”

Jerico stepped inside, Bellok following. The house was dim, lit only by the open window. A fire burned in the fireplace, the smoke drifting up a small chimney. In one corner was a bed, and lying atop it was a young woman buried up to her neck in blankets. A man sat beside her on a stool, his grey hair tied in a ponytail. There was something familiar about him, his hardened face lurking in some recent memory…

“Kaide,” Jerico said, remembering that man’s face peering down at him, ordering the rest of the men to take him. “You’re their leader?”

The man stood, tearing his attention from the woman. His eyes were red, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Forgive me for our first meeting,” he said. “But you have no choice in this matter, and neither do I. Sandra is dying. I need you to save her.”

Jerico approached the bed, making sure he kept his movements calm. Two long dirks hung exposed from Kaide’s belt, their edges wickedly sharp. Jerico still wore his platemail, but unarmed, he’d be at a serious disadvantage if this Kaide knew at all how to wield those blades. Given his reputation, Jerico had a feeling he did. Trying to put such things out of his mind, he turned his attention to Sandra. Her skin was pale, her forehead beaded with sweat. Her hair was also grey, almost silver. No doubt if the color returned to her face, and her small lips smiled, she’d be beautiful. Removing his gauntlets, he set them on the floor.