He tightened the grip on his faussar before continuing.
“...but my dear friend entrusted me with something, and I’ve dedicated my life to protecting it. Isn’t that reason enough?”
The words burned Wyatt’s heart like a blazing fire.
“I’ll kill you...I’m going to kill you, Gaius Beldarus!”
“I can’t allow that, Sir Wyatt.”
The next clash would decide everything. The air between them grew even more charged. Both sides were prepared to kill.
But it was neither Gaius nor Wyatt who broke the tension—instead, a kobold burst through the brush. Breathless and frantic, the kobold ran up to Gaius, shouting:
“It’s awful...! They’re... They’re heading for the village!”
＊
Kobolds were fast, but were not suited to running long distances. Under these dire circumstances, however, the kobolds that had joined Gaius had pushed themselves to run as fast as they could until they reached the village; no sooner did they arrive in the village plaza than they collapsed, gasping desperately for breath.
“There are...about ten humans...on their way...to the village...!” one kobold struggled to announce to Sashalia and the village elder.
Sashalia turned to the elder and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Please, take the others and hide in the forest!”
“And what do you plan on doing?”
“I’ll buy you all some time. Sir Gaius will be here soon.”
“Don’t be a fool!” he cried. “There are too many of them! That great big oaf might be able to handle himself, but they’ll kill you!”
Sashalia drew herself up to her full height—which was only a little taller than the elder. “I’ll have you know that I was a knight, thank you very much. I even graduated with the second highest honors in my class. I’m more than capable of holding them off long enough for you all to hide.”
She was only bluffing. Sashalia knew full well that her high marks had been purely academic, and that her greatest weakness was her lack of combat prowess. Even with the training she’d recently undergone, the half-elf still only had the physical strength of a twelve-year-old human.
“The forest is still dangerous, of course, but it’s still better than staying here. Please, elder, your people need you right now.”
“...All right, already,” he grumbled in response. “Don’t go getting yourself killed, young lady.”
“Don’t worry! I was the best of Sir Gaius’s aides!”
The elder saw clear through her facade, but merely patted one of the hands she’d rested on his shoulders. Sashalia smiled warmly back at him.
I sound like an idiot. “His best aide”? That won’t do me any good in a fight, and he knows it.
Even though they had superior numbers, the adventurers were so divided they could not take advantage of this. On top of that, those ten adventurers had split into two even smaller groups. Naturally, Sashalia and the kobolds that had returned to the village had no way of knowing this, and unfortunately what should have been an advantage now worked against them.
But, most of all, Sashalia blamed herself for being unable to offer Gaius an alternate strategy. If she had, maybe they would have been able to mount a counterattack—or so she told herself.
“Hey, ye got me too!” Emon appeared between the two of them, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders.
Sashalia sighed. “Don’t go getting all confident just because you managed to beat me once.”
“Ah, I’ll be better’n ye in no time! Ye’d need to be a lot bigger and a lot bustier to stop me!”
“Excuse you?! Don’t make me knock your lights out again!” Sashalia drove a fist into Emon’s stomach, making him double over.
“Crivvens! Ye’re like my sister...ye both got wicked tempers...”
The village elder shook his head as he walked away. “You started it, boy.”
And with that, Sashalia and Emon—still hunched over on the ground—were left to hold off the invading humans.
＊
Eight adventurers reached the village. One walked ahead of the rest—he appeared to be the leader. His massive frame was clad in metal armor, and he gripped a heavy-looking mace in one large hand.
Trailing just behind him was another man wearing lighter gear. He pointed ahead of the leader and seemed to be explaining something to him, as though leading the group to their destination, despite the fact that he could not seem to keep ahead of the larger man’s impatient stride. He somewhat resembled a hunter.
Sashalia watched their approach from under the cover of one of the kobolds’ pit-like homes. In the next home over, Emon lay in wait as well. She flashed him a hand sign telling him to wait then turned to the forest to her left. The kobolds had fled in that direction, but she could still see a few of the children and older villagers trailing behind.
I’ve got to make sure those adventurers don’t follow them, no matter what... Sashalia took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady her nerves.
The adventurers had drawn close enough by now that their conversation was audible. She could hear one knightly adventurer clad in chainmail say to their leader, “It looks like they’ve evacuated, Hubert.”
“Damn it...and I was gonna tell Wyatt we got attacked by the mutts when we got here. If we don’t kill a few, my cover story won’t fly.” The man called Hubert scratched his neck, visibly irritated. He then turned to the man who looked like a hunter and said, “Hey, Cyril. You know your way around the forest. Take two of these guys and go find us some dogs to kill. The rest of you, search this place for some magic beast parts—claws, fangs, any stuff we can sell. But if you see something that looks like a liver, be sure you take it. Could be from a bugbear.”
Cyril nodded. With two others following behind him, he set off in the direction the kobolds had fled.