“Plenty of work?” Saeth considered the man’s offer with a smirk. “A sword worth buying, even a dagger worth buying–which I suspect may be more than what was wanted–would be foolish to sign up on such a vague contract.”
Maruc dropped the man. “There are methods that I am aware of that can loosen any tongue. I pity your short term future. You don’t have a long term one. Master dwarf, he’s all yours. I’m off to calm down, he’s not worth my time, you are right.”
Maruc didn’t like what this man had brought out in him. He’d never become this truly angry. He knew he was on the edge. If the man made one comment, one more snide remark he would seriously regret it.
Feldard glanced back towards the priest at his rant and snorted at the unaffected men. “Halavist, when you’ve had your fill of talking to these two sacks of wasted flesh, let me know so I can dump their corpses in the pit they were digging for the woman.”
He takes out a whet stone and begins taking the nicks out his blade from their last encounter with the Veiled Society. He grins over towards the bound men, “This stain here, is from your associates guarding the mining slaves further down the tunnel. You sure you wish to meet their same fate so soon?”
The man’s eyes widened at the sight of fresh blood on the dwarf’s axe. He did not want to die on this day, but he had no choice. Violations of the code of secrecy within the Veiled Society were dealt with most severely. Hopefully, the dwarf was bluffing. His instincts told him these were a group of do-gooders that would bring him to the authorities. Better to be sent to prison than to be labelled a snitch and wind up hacked to bits in some foresaken alley.
“You people don’t understand. If I betray the Society, I’m as good as dead anyway.” And with that, the man determined to stay silent.
Nicolai stood in the shadows behind the two men. “Personally, I doubt we’ll get much from these two. So I suggest we leave them here, or just bury them in the hole they were digging. Or, we could let the Iron Ring know where they are. I’m sure they could make use of a couple of fit men like these. Sounds quite fitting, murderers being sold to slavers.”
At the mention of the Iron Ring, the formerly hooded man raised his eyebrow, but he had resolved himself to his fate. He was not going to tell these people anything, no matter what they said or did.
Miklos was shocked, but looking into Nicolai’s eyes he realised his words lacked conviction. Miklos was more concerned with Maruc. He seemed quite upset with the situation. The young Mage put his arm around the shaking cleric. “Calm down old boy, he’s not worth your anger.”
“Come, let me take you up the rope ladder,” he guided the cleric toward the access. “We will see what has happened up there. We need to orient ourselves at street level any way.”
Miklos led the way up into the house ushering the cleric with him. They found themselves in the small room that Nicolai had previously visited. An open door led out into a kitchen. Near the trap door was a length of blood-stained hemp rope. Inside the kitchen, signs of violence — a dagger and bloodstains on the floor, broken dishes and furniture, a spilled wineskin and torn clothing.