The men stepped forward as Felmar held Harl in place, keeping pressure on the sword tip.
Rage seethed through Harl and he tensed, ready to rush Felmar. He knew he'd die soon after, but it was better than being made impotent by the sword. The first of the men grabbed Sonora's hands and held them down over her head as she tried to shake him off. A second knelt in front of her and fumbled to unbutton his britches, a smile on his lips.
Harl took a deep breath, ready to spring.
'You don't want to do that,' a voice said from the shadows at the edge of the tree line, making them all turn.
Gorman stepped into view. He had Harl's bow held in one hand while the other gripped four arrows, one between each finger. His stick lay by his feet and the sword was strapped to his back.
'All this trouble for the potion?' he said. 'It won't work, Felmar. It isn't a cure for the blacking disease.'
'You!' Felmar sneered. He kicked Harl aside and strode forward towards Gorman, his sword held up ready to strike the blind man down.
Gorman didn't hesitate, flicking the hand with the arrows up to the bow in one swift movement. An arrow bolted from the string with a twang, striking Felmar through the face and forcing his head to snap backwards as he toppled over.
The man pinning Sonora sprang up towards Gorman at the same time as the one kneeling between her legs. They rushed towards the old man, but Gorman was too fast. He cocked his head to one side and, with barely a twitch, loosed two arrows in rapid succession. Both men were struck simultaneously, arrows jutting from their chests. The next arrow was already resting on the bow and pointed at the last man before his friends had hit the floor. He stood frozen with fear as his comrades moaned in pain beside him.
'I didn't want no trouble mister, honest,' the man said looking around at his dying companions.
'I don't believe a word of your lies,' Gorman said, his voice firm but calm. 'Now run and join your companions on the bridge before I cut your manhood off. If you are a man at all.'
The man took flight into the woods, racing towards the path that wound down into the valley. When he was out of bow range he began calling out to his comrades for help.
Sweat coated Harl's palms. He cursed himself for being a fool. The man would return with the guards and the three of them would be picked off as murderers.
They had failed already.
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The Humanarium.
FantasyCould you kill your god to win your freedom? When humanity was defeated by the aliens there was no bloodshed. One alien was all it took to capture everyone who landed on their planet. A thousand foot tall and with superior technology, we stood no...
