Lair of Killers Read Free Page A

crowd. There was fear in his eyes but also deep concern as he glanced at the serving girl.
    “Please don’t hurt her. I’ll get you what you want.”
    The toughs let him through at a nod from Jerrod.
    “Here,” the man said as came out from behind the bar, carrying a strong box, a wooden construction with a lock on the outside. He put it on the counter in front of Jerrod. “This is all we got. Please, take it and go.”
    Jerrod hefted it, feeling its weight. It seemed like a good haul, and he could tell the man was sincere.
    “That’s it, huh? Nothing more? You know what happens if you hold out on me.”
    The man shook his head. “No, nothing more. Please leave us be.” He flicked his eyes to the girl, who had recovered from the initial shock. She breathed tiny gasps of air, still and numb.
    Jerrod grunted and nodded to the toughs. They hefted some bags and spread out among the crowd, forcing them to dig into their pockets and give up whatever coin or objects of value they had.
    “I think you all got some more to hand out,” he said and eyed the girl again. “Go on and give it up. We ain’t leaving until you do.”
    The toughs did their jobs well. They grabbed a decent amount, for many of the people there had some small bits of jewelry and a fair amount of coin. Jerrod hefted the strong box, tucking it under his left arm, leaving his right hand free to deal out punishment with the brass knuckles if need be.
    He breathed through his hood, the eye slits affording a narrow view of the proceedings. They collected a nice stash, three full bags in fact, and that was a grand start to the night, one they would repeat soon.
    “Let’s move it out, boys!”
    They filed out, keeping a strict eye on any potential heroes that might’ve tried to stop them, but no one moved. Jerrod had provided sufficient incentive to behave. He was almost disappointed that no one fought back. Maybe the next job would be more exciting.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Journal 1340
     
    We sail on the morrow! I say “we” only as an affectation because in actuality another Guild member goes in my place. I am consoled by the fact Lawson is a good man. There are many that believe otherwise perhaps. He is a young man, but his heart remains true to The Guild. What he lacks in experience he makes up in gusto for justice and shall represent us well.
     
    We must show to those that mean to harm us that death is the only response with which we may answer. Violence is the only real power in this world. It pains me to admit it, and I would rather there was another way, but I see no other route to take. Believe it not if you will, but violence has solved more issues in history than any other one force. Death is the ultimate equalizer to which all men are judged in the end.
     
    I wish it were not so. But my wishes carry little weight when pressed against reality. Men will die. Perhaps many of them. Some families will be destroyed, perhaps many. There will be heartache and pain and misery. Will it be worth it? Our journey must happen. It is happening. I wonder on the worth more and more because our business is in fact only business. I am not so blind by duty to my job to be under any other supposition that The Guild is more than that. It provides jobs; it gives money to those that would not have it, but would it be better to dissolve the whole thing before committing us to this course?
     
    Lurenz has killed men. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men and women have died by his hand. If the stories are to be believed, he is a despicable human being, and his life should be taken for the good of all. True, it is now only our vessels that his fleet targets, but what of it? Is it not only right we defend ourselves? It would be madness to believe otherwise.
     
    I believe assistance from the king is impossible. I have sent letters, and they remain unrequited. No other agency of the crown feels it is up to them to intercede on our behalf. Or is there some other reason those