“You left me alive?” Torgar asked, struggling to his feet, his free hand clutching his face. “Big mistake, you bastard. I’ll make you pay.”

He felt warm blood spilling across his fingers and mouth. A huge gash bled across the bridge of his nose, and he wondered if he’d pass out before the night was done. Cursing, he cut a large portion of his shirt and pressed it to the wound. It hurt like blazes, but it was the best he could do for now. Sword held high, he rushed into the mansion.

The hallway was mostly dark, with only small oil lanterns burning at the various intersections. He had no clue who this assassin targeted, but Torgar knew who paid his wages, and therefore belonged at the top of the list to protect. Hooking a right, he headed for Laurie and Madelyn’s room. He tried shouting for help, but it hurt his nose too much. His eyes watered, hampering his already blurred vision. Several times he rammed into a wall, adding more bruises to his aching body. All throughout, he heard cries from the guards. Most were tracking positions, calling out all clears. But every few moments, they let out frightened shouts, if not death screams.

Reaching Laurie’s room, he felt hope at seeing the door closed. He kicked it open and barged in, only to have something hard and blunt strike the back of his head. Torgar dropped to his stomach, and he vomited uncontrollably.

“Damn it,” Torgar said, glaring at Laurie standing to the side of the door, dagger in hand. His wife sat on the bed, also holding a blade.

“I thought you were the intruder,” Laurie said, offering his hand. Torgar ignored it, instead using the wall to brace himself as he stood.

“You’re an idiot, Laurie. Why the hilt?”

“I wanted you alive for questioning.”

Torgar looked back to the hallway, listening for sounds of battle.