Chương 107: Chapter 2.44: Doth Thou Think Me Jesting?

"Come on, slowpoke," whispered Caliga while twirling the hefty bronze dagger around her fingers. Favius jumped the last rungs of the ladder and touched the grip of his iron blade. Caliga followed right after him, yet not before the two cultivators simply jumped off the roof. He looked at Sirrana, but the assassin only made a shooing gesture.

"Hunt. We'll serve as backup." He shared a look with Caliga and they jogged towards the gardens. They're really sending us at an enemy agent. This world is insane. Yet internally he was giddy. This feels like a kid's game. But we do have real knives. And there's a real enemy out there. Favius grabbed Caliga's arm and could see the frown on her face, but he leaned in.

"Follow me. Sirrana hasn't trained you on stealth yet." He pointed along the gardens.

"If we follow the contours of the hedges and flank him, he has no chance to see us." Caliga paused in the shadow of a well-groomed bush.

"Maybe we ought to go via the edge of the grove." She pointed into the sky.

"All-Father will illuminate him for us, while we'll be invisible in the shade." Favius clicked his tongue and squeezed his sister's arm.

"Good suggestion." And so they hurried off. Favius kept brushing the iron handle of the dagger like a talisman as the fast-paced running pumped adrenaline through his blood. The moonlight reflected gently off the polished bronze of Caliga's blade as they reached the first big hedge of the gardens. Favius held up a fist.

"Let's observe for a moment. If I understood them correctly, we should see him from here." Caliga looked over her shoulder.

"You sure they are following us? I haven't heard anything," she whispered. Favius sniffed.

"Sirrana could be standing right in front of you and you wouldn't know it. And Brutus, well, he's not nearly as stealthy. But with that bow, as long as he's within a few hundred steps, he can kill anyone in an instant." They observed with squinted eyes and Favius rotated his eyeballs in the pattern Sirrana had taught him for seeing better at night. Caliga sniffed in frustration.

"Let's…" She began, but Favius put his hand on her shoulder.

"No, I…" He narrowed his eyes and repeated the rotation, studying the very edge of the grove, the closest point to the estate. There it was again: movement in the moonlight at the forest's edge. He extended a finger.

"There. Can you see it?"

"No. Wait…" She gasped, putting her unarmed hand over her mouth.

"I think so!" But Favius was already moving.

"Come on, he can't get away," he whispered. Following the outer edge of the garden hedges, they hurried towards the man, making use of protruding bushes and beds of roses and other flowers to remain concealed despite the bright moonlight. Finally, they reached the very edge of the gardens and, behind a set of lupines that were flickering with night butterflies, they again conferred. Favius was staring straight ahead.

"There's a man," he whispered after pulling Caliga's head close to his mouth, unwilling to take his eyes off the target.

"Brown robes. He is young, but an adult." Caliga's breath somehow felt loud, all too loud in the tense darkness, but she nodded.

"Where is he looking?" Favius let out a slow, controlled breath.

"He's been staring at the estate the entire time. Haven't seen him looking to the sides once."

"So you think we can cross?" She pointed to the hundred meters of open ground that the sheep the groundkeepers kept on the estate maintained in perfectly even shortness. Favius swallowed.

"Yes, but don't sprint. If he looks, he looks. But if we make loud noises…" He nodded and, at a fast, deliberate pace that felt painfully slow, they crossed the moonlit grass towards the darkness of the forested grove. Favius's heart hammered until he let go of a breath of pneuma to calm his body and sharpen his senses. The man stood as a contrasted outline against the moonlit fog. Favius considered the situation as they were about to reach the far side. He's obviously not living in the estate.

If he was an enemy agent trying to make use of the chaos, he would never have left in the first place. So he must be a servant trying to sneak in. So does he have a specific target or does he just want to exploit the opportunity? He shook his head and grabbed Caliga before she could step onto the leaf-strewn forest floor.

"No, we stay in the grass. The shadows are enough." He gestured at the black outlines that divided the moonlit grass from the edge of the forest. Next he took a deep breath of the cool night air, restoring his pneuma reserves, and Caliga followed his example. In the distance, low banks of fog in the lowland near the Loran River were vaguely glowing with reflected moonlight. Favius saw Caliga absentmindedly shifting her fingers, running her thumb over her blade, testing its sharpness. He turned to her.

"All right, the way we are doing this—" She gasped.

"Look! He's moving." Favius saw the man shuffling towards the house in a crouch. What's that moron doing? It's slow and… He sniffed.

"Fuck it. If he's moving towards the house, he's not going to scatter into the woods. Follow me." They continued at a fast but silent pace along the edge of the woods, in the shadows of the edge of the woods, and soon reached the point where the man had been waiting. Favius took a deep sniff of the air. Is this alcohol? He shook his head. No time to investigate. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

He gestured at Caliga and they fanned out, ten meters between them. All right. They closed in from behind the man, whose head was swiveling from one side of the estate to the other. Yet unlike Sirrana had taught him, he was utterly unconcerned with what was to his sides. Never mind paying attention to what was behind him, like the two young cultivators closing in on him. Favius kept his hand close to his side as his sandals grew wet in the dewy grass. If I don't draw my dagger…

Not sure if he'll prioritize me or Caliga, but we might have more options. He used a final breath of pneuma to wash away all worries. This will be fine. My tutors are watching. They were less than ten meters from the man when Caliga suddenly raised her voice.

"Halt, ye vile fiend," she proclaimed loudly and brandished her dagger. Favius froze alongside the man. Both of them spun around and looked at the girl whose confident pose wilted instantly. Favius was the first to speak.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed in a low voice.

"What?" murmured the man, his flabbergasted expression clearly visible in the moonlight. Caliga's eyes flicked to Favius before refocusing on the man.

"You are caught, scoundrel. Cease your dastardly plot and surrender to justice." Favius winced. Oh my God. She's treating this like one of Brutus's embellished stories. He cleared his throat and attempted to speak in a deeper, serious voice.

"You better come with us if you know what's good for you. You're caught. We know everything." The man's head flicked between the two children and Favius inclined his head slightly to the side, not giving up on his attempt to mean-mug the man. Internally, his thoughts were racing. Fuck. We thought so much about how to reach him, but not about what we would do then. Well, he's off balance, so we best use that.

"Who are…" he began. Then he straightened.

"Ye… Ye 'ren't guards!"

"No need to call the guards to deal with a cur like you," continued Caliga and elegantly extended her bronze blade. Favius tilted his head to the side.

"Stop speaking like you're in a play," he hissed, not taking his eyes off the man.

"But how else am I supposed to—""Ye'r the young 'ristocrats," the man spat out with utter incredulity.

"Yes," said Favius, attempting to put a menacing growl into his voice.

"Indeed," proclaimed Caliga, again flourishing her blade. The man snorted and began laughing. This isn't going well. Caliga took a step back, looking uncertainly at Favius, who couldn't help it. He began laughing too. The man froze in an instant.

"Ye… Ye think thi' funny?" he questioned, and Favius tilted his head to the side.

"Kind of is," he ventured, though internally he was screaming. What the fuck am I doing here? This has gone off the rails.

"Why were you sneaking into the house? Speak," demanded Caliga, earning another side glare from Favius.

"Aye, aye. Dat's none of ya business." He lowered his voice menacingly and produced a butcher's cleaver in turn. Caliga and Favius took a step back at the dull glint of the bloody and pitted bronze blade.

"Everything 'as workin' out nicely," the man began, anger brewing in his voice.

"And then ye two fuckin' kids stumble across me and make fun of me!" His voice rose up far too loud to not be heard during the night, but Favius swallowed. For all my training and cultivation, this is nothing like the fight at the party against Carydras. That was an unarmed duel. This… He studied the man. He's a tall, muscular man with a fucking cleaver. Fuck. What was Brutus thinking? Forget that. What was I thinking? He murmured out loud, and the man continued taking a step forward.

"Aristocrats. I oughtta slit your throats before I scram." But Favius saw the point of Caliga's dagger shivering and noted that his own knuckles were white on the handle of his own weapon. This isn't real. Brutus is still there. The man took another step closer, now only five meters from either of them. He can rush us at this distance. Favius's eyes flicked to the side to Caliga. Maybe if we attack together? Take him by surprise? The man's ranting continued.

"Everythin' I've fucking been through. Dis is how id's…" Favius saw Caliga in the moonlight, terrified and frozen with indecision. He swallowed. Favius didn't really have to make the decision. He drew his dagger, fell into a combat stance, and sneered at the man.

"Then come at me, cur," he spat. The man paused for a moment, raising his cleaver to shoulder height.

"Ya. Ya challenging me, kiddo?" He sniffed with the arrogance only an adult could muster against an uppity child.

"I oughtta slaughter both of ya and enjoy it." But he made a sharp gesture with the cleaver, and Favius flinched despite his resolution.

"Run into da forest and keep runnin'. Tell no one what 'appened 'ere. Nobody needs to get hurt." Favius saw Caliga shift about somehow in his peripheral vision, yet his eyes were glued onto the bloody cleaver. The man's features had grown indistinct. No. He bit his tongue. No! Deliberately, he unclenched his jaw and focused on the man's arm and face. Brutus told me about this overfocusing on the weapon. That's what gets beginners killed. The body tells you the truth.

"Run!" shouted the man at that unreasonable volume, making another sudden gesture. Caliga yelped, yet it sounded distant, but Favius prepared himself.

"I will not run. I'm a Cultivator and you are scum. Nothing but the son of a beaten bitch who—" The man let out a raw, animalistic sound from his throat and charged, his cleaver rising above his head. Favius was already moving to the side. Dodge and… He stepped sideways and prepared a slash at the man's gut. But suddenly the man's raw scream turned pained, and he fell to the ground beside Favius. He still completed the cut, though it caught on the man's robe. Did I get him? Did I?

He stepped forward, but this time a shrill girl's scream could be heard. Caliga ran forward, and before Favius could stop her, she began stomping on the hand holding the cleaver. One, two, three, four, five times in quick succession.

"You asshole! You motherfucker! Know your fucking place!" She punctuated each word with a stomp, and Favius stared at her. Yet he noted something strange. The guy, he isn't screaming despite… He looked down at the man's face. And there was Sirrana, fixing the man's torso to the ground with her legs. One arm had twisted his elbow and the other was holding his jaw in a vice grip. He swallowed and noted that Urania and Brutus were approaching from the forest.

"Girl," Sirrana ordered sharply, and Caliga stepped back. Favius swallowed as he saw what she left behind. The bloody footprints were entirely too visible in the moonlit grass. Caliga began shivering, and Urania gasped, running over to her sister. This… fucking hell. Favius noticed that he too was shivering, but Brutus stepped up to him.

"Well done, boy," the cultivator said in a jubilant tone. He brought up a wineskin and Favius accepted it, drinking deep swallows of the heady, dry liquid. He did not know how long he drank from it, but at some point Brutus took it away and separated Urania from the crying Caliga. Caliga in turn gulped down a large dose of wine. Sirrana got up from the man who lay unconscious, possibly choked out, on the ground.

"What? How?" he murmured, and Sirrana pointed to one of her empty dagger sheaths on her breastplate's rigging.

"I was right behind you. The moment he charged, the moment he put his weight onto his knee during that charge, I hit it with the dagger." She snorted.

"He never stood a chance. So tell me, boy." Favius swayed slightly and swallowed down the mixture of wine and bile.

"How does it feel to catch real prey?" He stammered, but Sirrana cleared her throat.

"No thinking. Answer." She was suddenly very close, her owl eye being all Favius could focus on.

"Exciting," he murmured, and the moment he said it, his thoughts crystallized.

"There was terror, but also when we hunted him in the end…" He stammered and a smile spread on his face alongside the warmth of the wine. Brutus was kneeling and holding both Urania and Caliga. Yet after less than a minute, his sister too began chuckling.

"This was amazing." Her voice was frail, almost glassy, but she kept repeating the sentence and grew ever more confident. Favius shook his head. I guess there really was never any danger here and they just decided to use this as an opportunity. To get us closer to our… He, weirdly enough, did not swallow, but only smiled. First blooding as warriors. Sirrana cleared her throat, but Favius raised two fingers.

"Oh, near the forest I thought I smelled…"

"Indeed," said Sirrana.

"There was a small, almost empty amphora of cheap wine." Favius furrowed his brow as they all assembled in a half circle on the dewy and foggy moonlit grass around the unconscious and still bleeding man. Distantly, the sound of clanging bronze could be heard, and Favius smiled and sniffed.

"Oh, now the guards are coming." Brutus and Sirrana chuckled.

"Their response time is pretty good, given the circumstances." Favius snorted at the statement and giggled, running a hand over his stomach.

"By the way, you got him," said Brutus, handing Favius the iron dagger whose first third was wet with blood. Favius stared at the implement and touched the sheath at his side.

"I lost it," he murmured. Brutus laughed.

"Indeed you did." Favius exhaled, and Sirrana kicked the unconscious man in the side.

"Let's drag him off to a basement so we can figure out what this was about. Ovinius Kestrello?" The Cultivator nodded.

"I'll talk to the guards. Children, go along with her. It's time to teach you something about interrogation."